The fourth Noble Truth is the highly pragmatic and creative response to our dukkha. Once we see that this path is true for us, we practice it. Once we touch the joy of freedom from dukkha, we cultivate and nourish this freedom, and this joy. When I think of my Dharma practice, I don’t think of the pianist practicing scales. I think of the doctor practicing medicine or the lawyer practicing law. Their practice is a vocation. And our yoga-Dharma practice can be our vocation. The word vocation originally meant “to put your voice forth” into the world. What a wonderful way to see our practice. To commit to this practice is to put forth our voice into the world, to truly declare our values and our volition regarding how we relate to life itself. This is what is meant by our practice being our life.
When we look into the four Noble Truths we see, as the Buddha said, that “whoever sees dukkha sees the making of dukkha, the ending of dukkha, and the path that leads to the end of dukkha. Whoever sees the making of dukkha sees dukkha, the end of dukkha, and the path. Whoever sees the ending of dukkha sees dukkha, the making of dukkha, and the path. Whoever sees the path that leads to the end of dukkha sees dukkha, the making of dukkha, and the ending of dukkha.”
When we look deep enough into any one of the truths, we see the other three. We need dukkha in order to see the path. If we turn away from our dukkha, we turn away from the very path that leads out from dukkha. The Buddha said that in the very moment when we know how our dukkha came to be, we are already on the path of release. Awareness and release are intimately connected. In this sense, it has been said, to take one step on the path is to complete the path. And we do this step by step, moment by moment, one breath at a time.
CHAPTER THREE
THE EIGHTFOLD PATHS
AS HE LAY DYING, the Buddha accepted yet one more student, Subhadda, who arrived at the Buddha’s side and asked him if the other teachers of renown within the vicinity were also fully enlightened. The Buddha replied that it was unimportant whether any of the teachers were fully enlightened. “The question is whether you want to liberate yourself,” replied the Buddha. “If you do,” he continued, “practice the Noble Eightfold Path. Wherever the Eightfold Path is practiced, joy, peace and insight are there.” From his first Dharma talk to this last, the Buddha offered the Noble Eightfold Path as the way out of dukkha.
Seven hundred years later, Patanjali, in wishing to create a coherent, systematic school and practice out of the variety of yoga teachings, and perhaps under the influence of Buddhism, which was a prominent force in India at the time, wrote the Yoga Sutra and codified one main practice as Ashtanga yoga (“eight-limbed yoga”). The other approach to yoga found in the Yoga Sutra is Kriya yoga, which involves the three practices of asceticism/discipline (tapas), study (svadhyaya), and devotion to the Lord (ishvara-pranidhana).
For conceptual and teaching purposes, the Buddha’s Eightfold Path is said to be a three-part training of shila (morality or ethics), samadhi (concentration or meditation) and prajna (wisdom). It should be noted that these three parts are not like a spiritual ladder where you start with moral and ethical conduct, so that you can develop the concentration and meditative skills that lead to, and unfold into, insight and wisdom. Rather they are like the legs of a three-legged stool, each equally required for the stool to serve its purpose.
Although it might also be argued that the Noble Eightfold Path begins, somewhat unexpectedly for many, with wisdom. One of my teachers compared the Path to an eight-lane superhighway. A skillful driver makes use of all the lanes, always keeping them in view and changing lanes when necessary. Also, in keeping with the premise that there is in fact nothing to attain, the transformative movement of this path is to start out and to return to right view. We need “relative right view”—that is to say, the awareness that there are people who have been able to transform their suffering as well as the ability to distinguish wholesome roots from unwholesome roots to even begin this journey—and having tread upon this path, we develop absolute right view, or the understanding that all views are wrong views. From the “viewpoint” of ultimate reality, right view is the absence of all views! While it may seem paradoxical, it is truly beautiful in its coherence!
Before we take a quick overview of the eight limbs of the noble path, let me say a word about the word that is usually translated as “right” as in “right view.” Samma (Sanskrit: samyak) means “same” or “equal” and by extension implies completeness, perfection, and wholeness. So samma is not “right” set in antithetical opposition to “wrong,” “bad,” or “evil.”
Another way to think of samma is as “skillful” or “that which is appropriate to the situation;” it implies that “this works” or “this is in harmony with reality.” If you want to get from Brooklyn to Manhattan, there may be many ways. Some may be more direct than others, but if they get you to where you want to go, they are “right.” However, if you want to go to Manhattan from Brooklyn, and you travel east—no matter what road you take, you will never get there. The roads to the east aren’t necessarily bad or evil roads (although some New Yorkers would argue with that assessment), but they are not the right roads to get you where you want to go.
Thus, we actually need at least a modicum of wisdom to even begin spiritual practice. Right view is the first limb because we need to see how things are. We need to be free from a concretized view of reality that merely bolsters our opinions and beliefs and really see how things are. right view, which is also called right understanding, means to have a deep understanding of the Four Noble Truths. Right view includes seeing how we suffer, how our life is out of kilter, and seeing that we can do something about it. Sometimes right view is referred to as the “Mother of all Buddhas,” as it is that which can free us from all narrow or constricted conceptual views.
The second limb, right thinking or right intention (sometimes also translated as right aim or right resolve), is the practice of examination—of our motives, our thoughts, our habits—and the resolve to move in the direction of less suffering and harm for ourselves and all beings. Right thinking arises from and is in accord with right view. Obviously, if you understand the root of your dukkha, you can generate the right intention to extricate yourself from it. If we have the view that we are truly independent monadic selves, then our thinking and our actions will follow from this, and since this view is not in sync with how reality is, we will cause ever more suffering to ourselves and to those around us. Right thinking reflects the understanding of interbeing. Right thinking is in accord with right view.
INTERLUDE
MINDFULNESS YOGA PRACTICES
There are four practices related to right thinking that we can apply to our yoga-asana practice:
Are You Sure? Misperceptions are a major root cause of dukkha. While practicing, we can ask ourselves if our perceptions are truly accurate, reflecting reality, or if in fact they are based upon misperception, opinion, and unskillful thinking. Is it truly a physical limitation that is keeping us from doing a particular asana, or is it a misperception of our ability? For instance, recently a student of mine, while moving into MARICHYASANA A (a posture that involves binding—clasping the hands behind the back) stopped at one of the modifications that doesn’t involve binding, which I teach to those with less range of motion. When I went over to assist her and helped her into the full posture, she laughed. She just did not know she could reach her hands together behind her back so she hadn’t even tried!
On the other hand, in almost every class I see students who seem too sure of themselves, contorting themselves into a barely approximate rendition of a posture, pushing and grasping, unaware that they can be putting themselves into a very precarious position—literally!
What Am I Doing? If we stop periodically to ask ourselves this, the question can become a bell of mindfulness, recalling us back to the present moment—the moment at hand. Often during practice, your mind will stray to thoughts about the past or the future—what your friend said last night, or where you are going to lunc
h after your yoga practice. You may be so caught in an idea about the posture that you are not aware of what it is that you are doing. We can also practice this awareness when we find ourselves pushing into a posture because we are not applying attention to the situation at hand. What am I doing? is the practice of releasing this kind of thinking and connecting to right thinking.
When I see students struggling in a posture and ask them simply, “What are you doing?” I am allowing them some space and time to reexamine just what they are doing and why. With this timeout, they often see that they haven’t been very mindful and have got themselves all caught up in their ideas, notions, expectations, and desires rather than paying attention to what is actually happening in their bodies.
Hello Habit Energy. Our way of acting in our world and how that is reflected in our yoga practice is based on our way of thinking, and our way of thinking is in large part based on our habit energies—the habitual patterns of conditioning that too often dictate how we relate to ourselves and the environment. Our habits are so tenacious they seem to stick to us, even when they make us suffer. Noticing them as they arise, simply acknowledging them and greeting them rather than feeling guilty about them, lessens their power over us. If we are perfectionists and see our hypercritical urge arising in our practice, then Hello Habit Energy can loosen the grip of our compulsiveness.
Often, I note to students that as they roll up from a FORWARD BEND IN A SPINAL ROLL, habitual tension in the shoulders may make them tense their arms and lift from the shoulders. I ask them to keep their eyes open so that they can see the tension in their arms as they stiffen like Boris Karloff in Frankenstein. They “let go,” and then a moment or two later, the arms stiffen again. They can get pretty frustrated by this at first. Hello Habit Energy is one way they can learn to accept that this is the way things are now. If they simply see this, the energy can weaken over time.
With this friendlier attitude to our habit energy, the very things about ourselves that we have been unaware of become our teachers. By not rejecting them but instead welcoming them as old friends, they lose some of their sting. They offer us the gift of awareness.
Bodhichitta. This is the deep aspiration to cultivate the understanding in us that inspires us to work for the liberation of all beings. It is the ultimate motivating force for our practice of mindful living. I make bodhichitta a practice of right thinking every morning. As I prepare for my first SUN SALUTATION, I offer the benefits of my practice to all beings, particularly those who do not have the good fortune and opportunity to practice.
Of course, it would be disingenuous to deny that people take up asana—all yoga practice, really—at first because they want the benefits of the practice. Whether those benefits include relaxation, flexibility, better overall health, deeper concentration, patience, stress management, or enlightenment, we first begin practice because we want some benefit. Over time, we see that it ultimately isn’t even possible to practice merely for oneself because we really “inter-are” with all beings. So with this practice, we can cultivate that insight and purposefully offer the fruits of our practice to all beings. With the integration of right view and right thinking, we can live fully in the present moment, nourishing the seeds of liberation and healing the wounds of suffering.
The next three limbs of the Eightfold Path relate to shila, or the moral practices that make up the five precepts, discussed later. The first of these three is right speech, traditionally said to involve not lying, slandering, gossiping, or indulging in any forms of verbal abuse. It also means, more proactively, the healing practice of silence. While the application of this practice as it relates to others should be apparent, that it also relates to our own internal chatter may not be so obvious. When practicing, pay attention to the voices in your head. They offer running commentaries on your practice like sports announcers for a baseball game. At times the inner chatter can seem like a veritable nightclub! How often are the words that run through your head critical and cutting, putting you down, harping on your inflexibility? Or perhaps it is just the opposite. Maybe your commentators are preening over how wonderful you do your headstand! It is still just idle chatter, and the practice of inner silence itself is the definition of yoga that Patanjali gives in his Yoga Sutra.
Right action is of course based upon right thinking or intention. Right action is simply that action that prevents or alleviates dukkha. Patanjali says that dukkha yet to arise must be ended. Right action is bodhichitta in full bloom.
Right livelihood is any way of life that is not involved in harming oneself or any others. This includes all pursuits we may partake in, including entertainment and other leisure activities. Our yoga asana practice itself must be practiced with this teaching in mind.
Right effort (also called right diligence) is in many ways at the core of the actual practice and is the first of the three components of samadhi (concentration). There are four supreme efforts the Buddha suggested we make:1. Not to let an unwholesome thought arise, which has not yet arisen.
2. Not to let an unwholesome thought continue, which has already arisen.
3. To make a wholesome thought arise, which has not yet arisen.
4. To make a wholesome thought continue, which has already arisen.
These practices are considered “supreme” because they are supremely difficult and also supremely beneficial. To practice these four efforts requires strong resolve or intention, as well as right view. If we practice in such a way as to cause our body and mind to suffer, if we grow distant from those we love, or if we use our practice to run away from our dukkha, we are not practicing right effort.
Allied with right effort is the heart of the Buddha’s teaching, right mindfulness. The Sanskrit word smriti and the Pali word sati that are translated as mindfulness mean “to remember” and “to be aware.” Our effort is to remember to remember! Through the practice of right mindfulness, we continually make ourselves intimate with how we relate to the various states of mind that arise and how we actually engage with the world from moment to moment. It means that you are mindful of all that arises—not just what you prefer to have arise—nonjudgmentally, wholeheartedly present to every aspect of your lived experience. A tall order indeed!—and one which we will examine in more detail in coming chapters.
The final aspect of the Eightfold Path is right samadhi (sama + dhi, “perfect /consummate vision”), which is most often translated as “right concentration” and sometimes as “right meditation.” This is the cultivation of a single-pointed mind that is centered and focused, calm and relaxed. There are two kinds of concentration—active and selective. Active concentration dwells upon whatever is happening in the present moment, even as whatever it is changes. It can be seen as a deepening of mindfulness, a carrying over of the meditative mindfulness into a state of absorption (another meaning of samadhi). With selective concentration, we choose one object and focus exclusively upon it. Concentration is the force that allows us to let go of all distractions and keep coming back to the object of attention.
The Buddha refers to the concentrative absorptions that were long practiced within the yoga tradition—four in the realm of form and four within the “formless realms”—supramundane realms beyond all perception of form. While these absorptions can be nourishing, promoting joy and ease, they are not the goals of our practice. One can all too easily get attached to these pleasant states. I have earlier mentioned how in his sojourn with his yoga teachers, the Buddha experienced the seventh and eighth levels of samadhi (also called the seventh and eighth jhana or dhyana), “the realm of nothingness” and “the realm of neither perception nor nonperception” and found that experiencing them still left him short of his goal of complete liberation.
So if it isn’t the goal of this practice, what is? Well, as we’ve seen, a certain right view is the necessary first step because without it, we would never develop the motivation to practice, instead remaining trapped in ignorance and delusion. Right concentration is placed here a
t the end of the Path because it depends on all the other seven. How can we hope to develop a concentrated mind if we do not live with right action, right effort, and right mindfulness, all of which are based upon the preliminary right view? With the fruition of right concentration, right view arises. This is why the Path is so often called “the path of return.”
However, when we come back to right view, it will be “absolute” Right view—the view from the vantage point of total liberation.
We begin with the right view that suffering and the possibility of the release from suffering exists. We begin with the understanding of the four Noble Truths. And in this practice of looking into the self we arrive at the truth of no separate self, no suffering and no extinction of suffering. As Dogen, the great Zen sage said, “To study the self is to forget the self. To forget the self is to be enlightened by (or intimate with) the ten thousand things.” Here the “ten thousand things” is simply shorthand for all that is.
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