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by Bhikkhu Bodhi
It may be a truism of psychology that the desire for happiness is
the most
fundamental human drive, but it is important to note that
this desire generally operates within the bounds set by another drive
just as deep and pervasive. This other drive is the need for security.
However insistent the raw itch for pleasure and gain may be, it is
usually held in check by a cautious concern for our personal safety.
We only feel at ease when we are sealed off from manifest danger,
comfortably at home with ourselves and with our world, snugly tucked
into familiar territory where everything seems friendly and
dependable.
When we come across the Buddha's teaching and begin to take that
teaching seriously, we often find that it provokes in us disturbing
waves of disquietude. This feeling arises from a clash a sensed
incompatibility between the picture of the world that we hold to
as the essential basis for our normal sense of security and the new
perspectives on existence opened up to us by the Dhamma. We may try to
shun the vistas that trouble us, we may pick and choose from the
Dhamma what we like; but to the extent that we are prepared to take
the teaching in earnest on its own terms rather than on ours
we may discover that the insights which the Buddha wants to impart to
us can be quite unsettling in their impact.
The first noble truth was never intended to be a comfortable truth;
indeed, it is the discomforting quality of this truth that makes it
noble. It tells us frankly that the routinely placid and predictable
surface of our everyday lives is extremely fragile a shared
delusion with which we lull ourselves and each other into a false
sense of security. Just beneath the surface, hidden from view,
turbulent currents are stirring which at any time can break the
surface calm. From the moment we are born we are sliding toward old
age and death, susceptible to various diseases and accidents that may
hasten our arrival at the appointed end. Driven by our desires we
wander from life to life across the sand dunes of samsara, elated by
our rises, shaken by our falls. The very stuff of our lives consists
of nothing more than a conglomeration of five "heaps" of
psychophysical processes, without any permanence or substance. Perhaps
the Buddha's most poignant statement on the human condition is his
image of a man being swept along by a mountain torrent: he grasps for
safety at the grasses along the banks only to find that they break off
just as he takes hold of them.
However, though the Buddha begins by drawing our attention to the
uncertainty that encompasses us even in the midst of comfort and
enjoyment, he by no means ends there. The discourse on suffering is
expounded, not to lead us to despair, but to awaken us from our
complacent slumbers and to set us moving in the direction where our
ultimate welfare can be found. Far from undercutting our need to feel
secure, the Buddha's teaching unfolds from that very same need,
turning it into a sustained inquiry into what genuine security
actually means.
Ordinarily, our benighted attempts to achieve security are governed
by a
myopic but imperious self-interest oriented around the standpoint
of self. We assume that we possess a solid core of individual being,
an inherently existent ego, and thus our varied plans and projects
take shape as so many maneuvers to ward off threats to the self and
promote its dominance in the overall scheme of things. The Buddha
turns this whole point of view on its head by pointing out that
anxiety is the dark twin of ego. He declares that all attempts to
secure the interests of the ego necessarily arise out of clinging, and
that the very act of clinging paves the way for our downfall when the
object to which we hold perishes, as it must by its very nature.
The Buddha maintains that the way to true security lies precisely
in the abolition of clinging. When all clinging has been uprooted,
when all notions of "I" and "mine" have lost their
obsessive sting, we will have no more fear, no more worry, no more
anxious concern. Touched by the fluctuations of worldly events the
mind remains stable, "sorrowless, stainless and secure" (Sn.
268).
While ultimate security lies only in the unconditioned, in Nibbana
"the supreme security from bondage" (anuttara yogakkhema),
as we wend our way through the rough terrain of our mundane lives we
have available a provisional source of security that will help us deal
effectively with the dangers and difficulties that beset us. This
provisional security lies in firmly committing ourselves to the Dhamma
as our source of solace and guidance, as our incomparable refuge. The
word "dhamma" itself means that which upholds and supports.
The Buddha's teaching is called the Dhamma because it upholds those
who live by it: it wards off the dangers to which we would be exposed
if we were to flout it, it sustains us in our endeavor for the final
good if we revere it and make it the foundation of our lives.
The Dhamma provides protection, not by any mystical blessing or
downpour of saving grace, but by indicating the sure and certain
guidelines that enable us to protect ourselves. Beneath the apparent
randomness of visible events there runs an invisible but indomitable
law which ensures that all goodness finds its due recompense. To act
counter to this law is to invite disaster. To act in harmony with it
is to tap its reserves of energy, to yoke them to one's spiritual
growth, and to make oneself a channel of help for others who likewise
roam in search of a refuge.
The essential counsel that the Buddha gives us to secure our
self-protection is to shun all evil, to practice the good, and to
purify our minds. By the pursuit of non-violence, honesty,
righteousness and truth we weave around ourselves an impenetrable net
of virtue that ensures our well being even in the midst of violence
and commotion. By cultivating the good we sow the seeds of wholesome
qualities that will come to maturity as we continue on our path
throughout the samsaric journey. And by purifying our minds of greed,
hatred and delusion by mindfulness and diligent effort we will find
for ourselves an island that no flood can overwhelm the island of
the Deathless.
| Source:©
1997 Thanissaro Bhikkhu. The author gives permission to
re-format and redistribute his work for use on computers and
computer networks, provided that you charge no fees for its
distribution or use. Otherwise, all rights reserved. |
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