Elohim
01-20-2007, 05:01 AM
Warning: Please be forewarned that you are about to read is undoubtedly flawed. I have a very limited understanding of Western philosophy in general, and I fully realize that what I present to you here is not complete (or probably correct) in any way, shape, or form. What I am about to present is merely a few thoughts that were inspired by a day of reading about Existentialism, Stoicism, and Buddhism, and the subsequent contemplation of what I was reading in relation to a particular paragraph. This was written for fun, and not intended to be taken as any sort of authority on the matter. Please take this into consideration if and when you take the time to read this.
Western philosophy has never been one of my major interests, mainly because I do not find the subject all that interesting, but I have found that I have been increasingly curious in regards to the various "isms" that people have compared to Buddhism in recent months. Out of these various philosophies and systems of thought, two have especially caught my attention—stoicism and existentialism. These more so than any others have elements that closely resemble ideas and concepts that are associated with Buddhism, and more specifically, Buddhist philosophy. They at least seem to share bits and pieces of what can be found within the Buddha's teachings.
Stoicism, for example, focuses on self-control, detachment, virtue, reason, and finding inner peace by mastering human passion and emotions. From this it is easy to see the resemblance, and why people new to Buddhism often mistake the two. When it comes to explanations of what existentialism focuses on, however, I have found that it is very difficult to find any consensus as it appears to vary from person to person. This is apparently a philosophy that is notoriously hard to pin down. Even so, I decided to do my best, and while I was researching existentialism in order to gain a better understanding of it, I came across this paragraph from The Existential Primer (http://www.tameri.com/csw/exist/exist.html):
Siddharta Gautama was appalled by suffering and chaos in the world. So much so, he left his wife and son to meditate on the meaning of everything. Unfortunately, he didn’t find answers among the gurus. There were no easy answers. In some ways, yes, Siddharta experienced an “existential” discovery: life is suffering.
But, Siddharta did not follow the existential notion of rebelling or fighting to establish a meaning. He did not openly challenge people and political leaders. Instead, he took a different approach:
When he met his first disciples at Benares after his enlightenment, the Buddha outlines his system, which was based on one essential fact: all existence was dukkha. It consisted entirely of suffering; life was wholly awry. Things come and go in meaningless flux. Nothing has permanent significance. Religion starts with the perception that something is wrong. […] The Buddha taught that is was possible to gain release from dukkha by living a life of compassion for all living beings, speaking and behaving gently, kindly and accurately, and refraining from anything like drugs or intoxicants that cloud the mind. - A History of God; Armstrong, p. 32
Unlike the existentialists, Siddharta is a stoic in nature: accept things as they are, don’t try to change them or control them. Curiously, this is rebellious in that it rejects social norms. Siddharta was rejecting the Hindu teachings of his time, much as Kierkegaard challenged the ritualized nature of Christianity. But, Siddharta was not an active rebel. He was, in many ways, teaching a passive resistance that the existentialists would reject.
In regards to this paragraph, I do not think that it is fair to say that the Buddha was not existential because he was stoic—simply accepting things as they were, not trying to change them, or control them. While it is difficult to put the goal of the Buddha’s path into words — as the limits of human language fail to express what is beyond conceptualization and conditions — it is not in any way stoic. The Buddha taught that the end of suffering was attainable, that Nibbana — the cessation of greed, hatred, and delusions — could be experienced here and now, provided that one put forth the right effort in the right direction (by following the Noble Eightfold Path).
The problem of suffering as seen in Buddhism is that when we suffer, we become bewildered as to why this is happening, and then we look for a way out—except we look in all the wrong places because we are confused about what suffering is, as well as what true happiness is. That is why the Buddha taught the Four Noble Truths (cattari ariya saccani), so that we are able to comprehend suffering, abandon its cause, realize its cessation, and develop the path to that cessation. The Buddha was very much trying to change things, or in his own words going against the stream of craving in the form of renunciation, but this change was internal rather than external.
Basically, the world of our experience is subject the universal laws of dependent co-arising (paticca-samuppada). Birth, aging, sickness, and death; we are all subject to these laws of conditionality—whatever has the nature of arising has the nature of ceasing, and that process is inherently stressful. The implications of dependent co-arising being that we have no real control over the unsatisfactory and impermanent nature of our existence, and this is evident by the fact that we cannot say, "Let my body be thus, Let my body not be thus. Let my feelings be thus. Let my feelings not be thus. Let my perceptions be thus. Let my perceptions not be thus. Let my mental process be thus. Let my mental process not be thus. Let my consciousness be thus. Let my consciousness not be thus."
This demonstrates, upon frequent contemplation, that there is no self (anatta) to be found within the conditional world of our experience. These things that we cling to as our own, these five phenomena that comprise our experience of the world which are called the five clinging aggregates (upadanakhandha), they arise from causes and conditions. When this is, that is. From the arising of this comes the arising of that. When this isn’t, that isn’t. From the cessation of this comes the cessation of that. What this boils down to is that whether we may wish to see this aspect of our existence or not, the fact that whatever is suffering and subject to change is not worth clinging to remains true. Here is where I think that Buddhism sheds the label of stoicism.
The Buddha taught that one could transcend the conditional world, that one could touch the unconditioned in an experience that was unable to be satisfactorily expressed in words. This is directly opposed to sheer acceptance. While ignorance (avijja) of the Four Noble Truths keeps us tied to this round of rebirths and suffering (samsara), the destruction of that ignorance frees us from this round of rebirths and suffering. The Noble Eightfold Path is itself the way to this experience—an experience free from suffering. The question comes down to what does this mean, and how is this possible. The answer is complex, but the Buddha begins by starting out with an observation—there is suffering and stress present in our lives, and what exactly is it that is suffering—birth, aging, death, sorrow, lamentation, pain, grief, despair, associating with the unloved, separation from the loved, and not getting what is wanted is suffering.
Once this suffering and stress is known, one should then inquire as to their cause. The origination of this suffering and stress, we are told, is craving—the craving that makes for further becoming — accompanied by passion and delight, relishing now here and now there — i.e. craving for sensual pleasure, for becoming, for non-becoming. The next question that we are encouraged to ask is, is there and end to the suffering and stress that is present in our lives. Fortunately, the answer that the Buddha gives us is yes. Nibbana, the remainderless fading and cessation, renunciation, relinquishment, release, and letting go of that very craving, is the end to this suffering and stress. Finally, we must ask what the way leading to this end of suffering and stress is. To this question the Buddha gives us the prescription for the cure to the dis-ease of suffering—The Noble Eightfold Path, which is divided into Right View, Right Resolve, Right Speech, Right Action, Right Livelihood, Right Effort, Right Mindfulness, and Right Concentration (SN 56.11 (http://www.accesstoinsight.org/tipitaka/sn/sn56/sn56.011.than.html)).
A complete overview of Buddhist philosophy, cosmology, et cetera would not be possible to explain in such a brief comparison as this would have to include such time consuming topics such as rebirth (punabhava), actions (kamma), results (vipaka), intentions (cetana), emptiness (sunnata), craving (tahna), clinging (upadana), suffering (dukkha), impermanence (anicca), not-self (anatta), et cetera, and what they mean in relation to suffering and the end of suffering; nevertheless, from just this short description I think that it is clear that the Buddha was not stoic in the sense that he taught one should be free from passion, unmoved by joy or grief, and not submissive to natural law, but that one should transcend the natural law (of conditionality) altogether. I think that out of the underlying concepts of existentialism, one of the main reasons why Buddhism should not be considered existential is that the Buddha taught that there are “universal” guidelines for most decisions.
There is a casual pattern to our intentions, actions, and the results of those actions. In essence, intentions equal actions equal results; and wholesome intentions equal wholesome actions equal wholesome results, while unwholesome intentions equal unwholesome actions equal unwholesome results. The Buddhist path takes one from learning how to develop wholesome or skillful intentions towards transcending intention and ending actions altogether. This is understood by the Buddha’s statements that, “Intention (cetana), I tell you, is kamma. Intending, one does kamma by way of body, speech, & intellect” (AN 6.63 (http://www.accesstoinsight.org/tipitaka/an/an06/an06.063.than.html)) and, “And what is kamma that is neither dark nor bright with neither dark nor bright result, leading to the ending of kamma? Right view, right resolve, right speech, right action, right livelihood, right effort, right mindfulness, right concentration. This is called kamma that is neither dark nor bright with neither dark nor bright result, leading to the ending of kamma” (AN 4.235 (http://www.accesstoinsight.org/tipitaka/an/an04/an04.235.than.html)).
In conclusion, while there are many reasons why the Buddha was neither stoic nor existential by definition, even though there are similarities between them, it would be unfair to say that the Buddha was not an active rebel, or that he was passive by any means. The Buddha actively rebelled against craving, against the natural flow of the conditional world itself. Instead of accepting this worldly existence as it was, he gave up everything that he was supposed to hold dear in order to discover a cure for what he discerned this existence truly was—suffering. In that search, he challenged everything from his assumptions and experiences, to that of his teachings and companions. He challenged everything until he was finally able to find a cure for this suffering, and then out of compassion, taught what he had discovered to the world. While the Buddha might not have openly challenged political leaders, he certainly did not accept things as they were—he changed them from within.
Western philosophy has never been one of my major interests, mainly because I do not find the subject all that interesting, but I have found that I have been increasingly curious in regards to the various "isms" that people have compared to Buddhism in recent months. Out of these various philosophies and systems of thought, two have especially caught my attention—stoicism and existentialism. These more so than any others have elements that closely resemble ideas and concepts that are associated with Buddhism, and more specifically, Buddhist philosophy. They at least seem to share bits and pieces of what can be found within the Buddha's teachings.
Stoicism, for example, focuses on self-control, detachment, virtue, reason, and finding inner peace by mastering human passion and emotions. From this it is easy to see the resemblance, and why people new to Buddhism often mistake the two. When it comes to explanations of what existentialism focuses on, however, I have found that it is very difficult to find any consensus as it appears to vary from person to person. This is apparently a philosophy that is notoriously hard to pin down. Even so, I decided to do my best, and while I was researching existentialism in order to gain a better understanding of it, I came across this paragraph from The Existential Primer (http://www.tameri.com/csw/exist/exist.html):
Siddharta Gautama was appalled by suffering and chaos in the world. So much so, he left his wife and son to meditate on the meaning of everything. Unfortunately, he didn’t find answers among the gurus. There were no easy answers. In some ways, yes, Siddharta experienced an “existential” discovery: life is suffering.
But, Siddharta did not follow the existential notion of rebelling or fighting to establish a meaning. He did not openly challenge people and political leaders. Instead, he took a different approach:
When he met his first disciples at Benares after his enlightenment, the Buddha outlines his system, which was based on one essential fact: all existence was dukkha. It consisted entirely of suffering; life was wholly awry. Things come and go in meaningless flux. Nothing has permanent significance. Religion starts with the perception that something is wrong. […] The Buddha taught that is was possible to gain release from dukkha by living a life of compassion for all living beings, speaking and behaving gently, kindly and accurately, and refraining from anything like drugs or intoxicants that cloud the mind. - A History of God; Armstrong, p. 32
Unlike the existentialists, Siddharta is a stoic in nature: accept things as they are, don’t try to change them or control them. Curiously, this is rebellious in that it rejects social norms. Siddharta was rejecting the Hindu teachings of his time, much as Kierkegaard challenged the ritualized nature of Christianity. But, Siddharta was not an active rebel. He was, in many ways, teaching a passive resistance that the existentialists would reject.
In regards to this paragraph, I do not think that it is fair to say that the Buddha was not existential because he was stoic—simply accepting things as they were, not trying to change them, or control them. While it is difficult to put the goal of the Buddha’s path into words — as the limits of human language fail to express what is beyond conceptualization and conditions — it is not in any way stoic. The Buddha taught that the end of suffering was attainable, that Nibbana — the cessation of greed, hatred, and delusions — could be experienced here and now, provided that one put forth the right effort in the right direction (by following the Noble Eightfold Path).
The problem of suffering as seen in Buddhism is that when we suffer, we become bewildered as to why this is happening, and then we look for a way out—except we look in all the wrong places because we are confused about what suffering is, as well as what true happiness is. That is why the Buddha taught the Four Noble Truths (cattari ariya saccani), so that we are able to comprehend suffering, abandon its cause, realize its cessation, and develop the path to that cessation. The Buddha was very much trying to change things, or in his own words going against the stream of craving in the form of renunciation, but this change was internal rather than external.
Basically, the world of our experience is subject the universal laws of dependent co-arising (paticca-samuppada). Birth, aging, sickness, and death; we are all subject to these laws of conditionality—whatever has the nature of arising has the nature of ceasing, and that process is inherently stressful. The implications of dependent co-arising being that we have no real control over the unsatisfactory and impermanent nature of our existence, and this is evident by the fact that we cannot say, "Let my body be thus, Let my body not be thus. Let my feelings be thus. Let my feelings not be thus. Let my perceptions be thus. Let my perceptions not be thus. Let my mental process be thus. Let my mental process not be thus. Let my consciousness be thus. Let my consciousness not be thus."
This demonstrates, upon frequent contemplation, that there is no self (anatta) to be found within the conditional world of our experience. These things that we cling to as our own, these five phenomena that comprise our experience of the world which are called the five clinging aggregates (upadanakhandha), they arise from causes and conditions. When this is, that is. From the arising of this comes the arising of that. When this isn’t, that isn’t. From the cessation of this comes the cessation of that. What this boils down to is that whether we may wish to see this aspect of our existence or not, the fact that whatever is suffering and subject to change is not worth clinging to remains true. Here is where I think that Buddhism sheds the label of stoicism.
The Buddha taught that one could transcend the conditional world, that one could touch the unconditioned in an experience that was unable to be satisfactorily expressed in words. This is directly opposed to sheer acceptance. While ignorance (avijja) of the Four Noble Truths keeps us tied to this round of rebirths and suffering (samsara), the destruction of that ignorance frees us from this round of rebirths and suffering. The Noble Eightfold Path is itself the way to this experience—an experience free from suffering. The question comes down to what does this mean, and how is this possible. The answer is complex, but the Buddha begins by starting out with an observation—there is suffering and stress present in our lives, and what exactly is it that is suffering—birth, aging, death, sorrow, lamentation, pain, grief, despair, associating with the unloved, separation from the loved, and not getting what is wanted is suffering.
Once this suffering and stress is known, one should then inquire as to their cause. The origination of this suffering and stress, we are told, is craving—the craving that makes for further becoming — accompanied by passion and delight, relishing now here and now there — i.e. craving for sensual pleasure, for becoming, for non-becoming. The next question that we are encouraged to ask is, is there and end to the suffering and stress that is present in our lives. Fortunately, the answer that the Buddha gives us is yes. Nibbana, the remainderless fading and cessation, renunciation, relinquishment, release, and letting go of that very craving, is the end to this suffering and stress. Finally, we must ask what the way leading to this end of suffering and stress is. To this question the Buddha gives us the prescription for the cure to the dis-ease of suffering—The Noble Eightfold Path, which is divided into Right View, Right Resolve, Right Speech, Right Action, Right Livelihood, Right Effort, Right Mindfulness, and Right Concentration (SN 56.11 (http://www.accesstoinsight.org/tipitaka/sn/sn56/sn56.011.than.html)).
A complete overview of Buddhist philosophy, cosmology, et cetera would not be possible to explain in such a brief comparison as this would have to include such time consuming topics such as rebirth (punabhava), actions (kamma), results (vipaka), intentions (cetana), emptiness (sunnata), craving (tahna), clinging (upadana), suffering (dukkha), impermanence (anicca), not-self (anatta), et cetera, and what they mean in relation to suffering and the end of suffering; nevertheless, from just this short description I think that it is clear that the Buddha was not stoic in the sense that he taught one should be free from passion, unmoved by joy or grief, and not submissive to natural law, but that one should transcend the natural law (of conditionality) altogether. I think that out of the underlying concepts of existentialism, one of the main reasons why Buddhism should not be considered existential is that the Buddha taught that there are “universal” guidelines for most decisions.
There is a casual pattern to our intentions, actions, and the results of those actions. In essence, intentions equal actions equal results; and wholesome intentions equal wholesome actions equal wholesome results, while unwholesome intentions equal unwholesome actions equal unwholesome results. The Buddhist path takes one from learning how to develop wholesome or skillful intentions towards transcending intention and ending actions altogether. This is understood by the Buddha’s statements that, “Intention (cetana), I tell you, is kamma. Intending, one does kamma by way of body, speech, & intellect” (AN 6.63 (http://www.accesstoinsight.org/tipitaka/an/an06/an06.063.than.html)) and, “And what is kamma that is neither dark nor bright with neither dark nor bright result, leading to the ending of kamma? Right view, right resolve, right speech, right action, right livelihood, right effort, right mindfulness, right concentration. This is called kamma that is neither dark nor bright with neither dark nor bright result, leading to the ending of kamma” (AN 4.235 (http://www.accesstoinsight.org/tipitaka/an/an04/an04.235.than.html)).
In conclusion, while there are many reasons why the Buddha was neither stoic nor existential by definition, even though there are similarities between them, it would be unfair to say that the Buddha was not an active rebel, or that he was passive by any means. The Buddha actively rebelled against craving, against the natural flow of the conditional world itself. Instead of accepting this worldly existence as it was, he gave up everything that he was supposed to hold dear in order to discover a cure for what he discerned this existence truly was—suffering. In that search, he challenged everything from his assumptions and experiences, to that of his teachings and companions. He challenged everything until he was finally able to find a cure for this suffering, and then out of compassion, taught what he had discovered to the world. While the Buddha might not have openly challenged political leaders, he certainly did not accept things as they were—he changed them from within.