Suffering is a part of life and not something we can avoid. It’s only when we relax into that sense of universal suffering that we can recognize compassion and turn toward it. Philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer is useful here in the sense that he sees all sentient beings as part of a wheel of suffering. Taking his cue from Buddhist, Christian and Hindu philosophy and religion, Schopenhauer maintained that we come into this world bound by suffering caused by endless desires, including the striving for survival. What distinguishes Schopenhauer from his contemporaries lies in how he did not try to mitigate or qualify that suffering by suggesting conditions through which humans can be spared of it, somehow. In other words, suffering does not only inflict the poor, the infirm, the sick, elderly, etc. Simply by virtue of having a body that is subject to the stirrings of hunger and thirst makes us prime candidates for a life of suffering. Thus, Schopenhauer does not present any illusion that humans can progress out of suffering, concluding that ultimately we are inclined to suffering because our bodies have many biological needs which put us on a ceaseless path of desire fulfillment. It’s only when we stop identifying with the sense of embodiment that gives rise to feelings, sensations, cravings, likes and dislikes, a false sense of an enduring self, etc. that we can emerge from the suffering of life and have a true understanding of its conditioned nature, which is subject to decay and endless struggle.
Schopenhauer
had a very clear-eyed awareness that life is suffering, but it’s not in vain.
In fact, Schopenhauer suggests that when a person honestly follows the path of
suffering, they will reach a point of no longer clinging to the phenomena as a
sense of security. In fact, it’s precisely in trusting the unfolding of
suffering that we can learn to let go of its individuality. We need to stop and
ponder this for a bit. People tend to attach to “my suffering”, or “my fortune
and lot”, to the point where we subsconsciously compare our fortunes with
others. Schopenhauer even suggests that one of the greatest pleasures in life
is schadenfreude. This is to say “I am so glad I don’t suffer the way that
person does”. But when we meditate deeply on it, we are all subject to similar
kinds of suffering in life, regardless of what paths or choices we make.
One of the
deepest forms of suffering is the way that we are ultimately not always in
control of the outcomes. Our decisions, even when well deliberated, are partially
made, in the sense that we don’t know in advance the outcome or all the
information that’s needed to understand all the consequences. In addition, even
the outcome itself is not within our control. As Buddhism indicates, we plant
seeds, but not all the seeds will ripen or prove to be meritorious. When looked
at from the perspective of previous lifetimes, we really aren’t in the know
about why things happen the way they do and when we do. Alan Watts has referred
to a basic trust that whatever decisions we have made in the past turn
out to contain the lessons we need to learn in life in order to become wiser.
This may be a bit glib—sometimes suffering does not yield clear lessons or
answers---but the central idea is that even our decisions are often based on
contingent information. In the absence of any “full picture” of what’s
happening or will happen to us, the only route we can go is that of trust,
without adopting a clinging view of the phenomena around us.
In today’s
world, we are often lulled into the comforting fantasy that certain choices
will guarantee us happiness. Having the “right job”, or meeting the “right
person” somehow makes us believe that we will be forever happy once we have
made the right decision, and doing so only requires a certain modicum of
education and intellect. The problem with this view is that there is no such
thing as a stable job, and even our closest relationships are subject to change
or unexpected turns. Trying to hold onto the comforting fantasy of “perfect”
decisions can lead to delusory notions of fixed identity, fate, destiny etc. But
even our own jobs are not who we are. I recently learned that the current role
I am taking on was subject to a budgetary decision by management. I was happy
to hear that my job wasn’t axed, but at the same time, it lead me to reflect:
as much as I would like to fancy that I have a value to an organization that I
have been in for over two decades, there really isn’t anything special about
“me” that could not be replaced by someone else, or perhaps even a machine or
artificial intelligence. Knowing this can make me feel either terribly insecure
and grasping, or simply humble: allowing myself to acknowledge that I am not in
control of what will happen to me. I don’t occupy such a privileged place in
the universe that I am somehow exempt from things like economic downturns, job
loss, illness, disability etc. All we can really do is pray for the best in
life and for good karma, but this is never guaranteed. By contemplating and
relaxing into the precarious nature of all things, I recognize there is nothing
to grasp in all of this, since nothing is guaranteed to be forever.
When, on
the other hand, we gently acknowledge the possibility that suffering is a
universal part of life that we all must undergo in some form or another, then
we will be less perfectionistic and more realistic about what happens to us in
this life. We can relax into the flow of experiences, knowing that even if we
can’t figure something out right away, there are possibilities to manage in the
world. But at the same time, we don’t
punish ourselves for being unhappy. Also, there is a certain wisdom in
recollecting that all paths involve some kind of unexpected challenge. Suffering
is in all places and all directions. But, as Schopenhauer suggests throughout
his writings, there is a hidden opportunity to transform through our suffering,
by no longer attaching to the forms in which suffering takes. These forms are
only surface phenomena. Underlying the surface of that phenomena is the nature
of life which everchanging, empty and devoid of any form. Schopenhauer took his
cues from Kant in suggesting this is the “thing in itself” or the “noumenal” as
distinguished from the phenomena, which is only one temporary expression of the
thing in itself. Buddhists might refer to it as the mind.
Let’s try
this experiment: think of one of the worst possible things that can happen to
you. Right now, I am thinking about the possibility of getting laid off and not
being able to find another employment. I imagine all the headaches I will have,
such as dwindling finances, bills to pay, creditors asking to collect, missed
payments, lack of financial stability, and even a dire state of abandonment or homelessness.
Now, you may begin to ask yourself, isn’t this reason to be alarmed? Is the
fact or the threat of homelessness not a way to motivate us to push ourselves
hard to look for that next job, rather than throwing our hands up in despair?
Isn’t fear—the fear of not having a home or place in life—not the “great
motivator”?
One of the
greatest myths we tell ourselves is that we cannot function without fear. This
message is so deeply ingrained within us that we surround ourselves with all
kinds of fears, including the fear of abandonment, rejection, poverty, lost
resources, shame, poor health, degradation etc. The fear keeps us on edge, and
even prevents us from sleeping at night, because this fear cannot ever be fully
abated. No matter how hard I push myself at work or try to get that extra hour
of time to “prove my worth” to the organization of my employment, none of this
is any guarantee that I won’t lose my job, even as I push closer to the finish
line of retirement. So the function of fear, more than anything, is to perpetuate
a sense of lacking, striving and trying to gain advantage in our situations. We
most especially fear ostracism; the frown on the face of the stranger who looks
at us and deems us as unacceptable. We internalize a low sense of self-worth
when others look down at us and see us as unemployable, unskilled, untalented,
etc. But is that fear useful?
Sometimes
fear can be effective, and we can use that emotion to push ourselves. Psychologists
such as Albert Ellis suggest that we need realistic feelings of shame, guilt or
sadness to motivate us to seek better conditions for ourselves. Fear, under
this view, has an appropriate and normative place among all the emotions, in
the sense that it can provide a needed “push” for us to clean the room we haven’t
cleaned in a long time, get the job we need to get, etc. However, I think Schopenhauer
wanted us to go deeper beyond the fear. We ask ourselves the question: is there
something that endures after the body has become degraded, starved or “cast off”
from society? Does some fundamental part of who we are “survive” the scolding gazes
and glances, declaring that we are a disgrace to society? Again, those who look
down upon us are equally caught in the wheel of continuous striving, and so
their scorn of us is a function of how they’ve been conditioned to fear
unwelcome experiences. So again—we need to ask ourselves, is there something
that lives beyond fear?
In order
to ask this question, we have to look closely at the nature of our being in
this world. The eyes that see, nose that smells, tongue that tastes, brain that
thinks: what allows these elements to come together, and what supports the
world that we are creating, moment to moment, with our senses? When the phenomena
are arising, what experiences those phenomena? The nature of awareness is one
way of attempting to answer this question. But let’s be careful not to get
confused here; we are not trying to seek an awareness that is separate from the
unfolding phenomena. Rather, we are doing something more subtle here, and
suggesting that there is some fundamental nature that supports every moment of
unfolding, and it’s inseparable from phenomena. We need not detach ourselves
from anything that is happening to us to look for this mind.
If, while
experiencing this present moment, I am aware that it’s just like a dream—a conglomerate
of interconnected elements—then I will become less and less attached to the
body that I take to be fundamentally real and “mine” forever. I can loosen
myself and become less defended, knowing that awareness is not limited to this
body. Even when people are shaming me and calling me the worst person in the
universe, what is the mind that experiences the totality of this moment? Is that
mind confined to some label that points to a singular “I”, or does it somehow
encapsulate that whole experience in the moment? Why would “I” think there is
only a single “I” in that experience? Or another way of putting it: if a big
wave crashes over a small wave, does the small wave get “defeated” by the big
wave? Does the small wave even “die”, for that matter? Think about it: a wave does
not really exist independently from the ocean, and is even one “form”, albeit
brief, in a total ocean. To attach to one wave is to make the mistake of
believing that our existence is defined by this one temporary shape that changes
every moment. Even seeing a “wave” and labelling it as such is a delusion of
the eye, which happens because we put together different elements of the experience
to make the standard shape that we then label as “wave”.
If we don’t
internalize the view that our bodies are nothing more than waves, we will end
up going in the opposite direction of solidifying the body into a discrete, solid
sense of self. We then make the mistake of believing that the mind resides within
the body. If this were the case, however, how could we possibly even see “outside”
the body, and why don’t we see “inside” the body if the mind somehow “resides”
there? By identifying less with the form in which our thoughts take and more
with the underlying awareness that allows thoughts to arise and disappear, we
become less stuck on thoughts of gain and loss. We will see that trying to gain
money, attention, compliments, praise, fame, security, etc. is not that much
different from a wave trying to protect itself against other waves. It’s simply
impossible for the wave to keep a fixed and secure shape and is, in fact,
continually changing with factors such as wind, movement, temperature, tidal
forces, etc.
The
problem is that most people don’t feel this way, and we even try to avoid this
realization. This is because we internalize the fear of something terrible happening
to us, by mothers, loved ones or others. Unless we are able to penetrate past
this fear, we will always be miserable because we are constantly waiting for
the proverbial shoe to drop. We don’t recognize that this is only a temporary
state of being that is bound to change to something else. We need to see that
this fear is not based on anything, and to see past this script of motherly concern
is the ultimate compassion we can give ourselves as well as the world. We need
to stop internalizing the idea that we are confined beings who are just this
body, with this fixed state of being. We are actually more than this. And
suffering is the illusion that comes from attachment to forms. Fear is not
necessary. It only exacerbates the sense of being trapped.
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