Samsara, Nirvana, and Buddha Nature

by Dalai Lama

  4. While this peace is not the tranquility of nirvāṇa, it does give us the knowledge that relinquishing attachment at any level makes the mind more peaceful.

  Six Disadvantages of Cyclic Existence

  Not only is saṃsāra unsatisfactory in nature, it is also bereft of advantages. Nāgārjuna’s Letter to a Friend (Suhṛi-lekha) speaks of six disadvantages of saṃsāra:

  (1) There is no security or certainty. We may work hard for a certain goal, but unexpected hindrances block our attaining it. We may live in a pleasant environment and suddenly be forced to leave. Our situation can change dramatically in a short period of time. Our relatives and friends change from one life to the next; saṃsāra lacks consistency and predictability.

  (2) We are never satisfied with what we are, do, or have. We always want more and better of whatever we find desirable. No matter what we have accomplished or how much we excel, we never feel good enough about ourselves.

  (3) We die repeatedly, each time leaving behind everything and everyone we know. Everything we worked so hard for during our life cannot come with us to the next life. Death naturally follows birth, and when we die nothing from this life except our karmic seeds and mental habits accompany us.

  (4) We are reborn in cyclic existence repeatedly with all the problems and struggles that exist in each life. Our saṃsāra is beginningless, and unless we exert effort to attain liberation, it will be endless.

  (5) We repeatedly change status from superior to inferior and vice versa. In one life we may change social position, health, financial status, relationships, and so on. From one life to the next we may go from the deva realm to a hell realm to birth as a human or an animal.

  (6) We experience suffering alone; others cannot experience it for us no matter how much they love us. We are born alone and die alone. Our feelings are felt by ourselves alone. While we may be inseparable from certain people during our lives, at death separation is guaranteed.

  The Buddha did not point these disadvantages out so that we would become depressed. Rather, with compassion, he asked us to look closely at our experiences in cyclic existence and see them for what they are. Knowing that we have the potential to be free from them, he then described their causes, the path to counteract them, and the state of liberation.

  REFLECTION

  1. Contemplate each of the six disadvantages of cyclic existence, making examples of them from your life.

  2. Contemplate that they originate in ignorance and that it is possible to eliminate ignorance through cultivating the wisdom realizing the emptiness of inherent existence.

  3. Knowing you have the potential to attain nirvāṇa, generate a strong determination to be free from saṃsāra and attain liberation or full awakening.

  4. Use this firm and clear aspiration to inspire your Dharma practice and clarify your priorities in life.

  5. Observe that the eight worldly concerns become uninteresting when your sights are focused on higher aims such as the true freedom of nirvāṇa or full awakening.

  Eight Unsatisfactory Conditions

  In describing true duḥkha in his first teaching, the Buddha said (SN 56.11):

  Now this, monastics, is the ārya truth of duḥkha: (1) birth is duḥkha, (2) aging is duḥkha, (3) illness is duḥkha, (4) death is duḥkha, (5) union with what is displeasing is duḥkha, (6) separation from what is pleasing is duḥkha, (7) to not get what one wants is duḥkha, in brief (8) the five aggregates subject to clinging are duḥkha.

  It is not difficult to make examples of these eight in our lives, for they describe much of what we experience on a daily basis. For many people, being able to acknowledge the presence of these unsatisfactory conditions in their lives is a relief. They no longer feel “something is wrong with me,” but know that all ordinary beings have these experiences. They see these events as part of life, not as punishments or personal failures.

  At the beginning of our lives we are born. Coming out of the womb into a new environment is physically painful for the child as well as the mother. At the end of our lives we die, experiencing suffering mentally if not physically. Between these two are aging and illness, which are also undesirable experiences. On top of these, problems, which we don’t want, come uninvited. We exert great effort to have conditions that bring happiness, but our efforts are not always successful. Even when we do find good circumstances they change and we have to separate from what we like, or we are disappointed because they don’t bring the enduring happiness we expected. Clearly this situation is unsatisfactory. Our human potential must involve more than experiencing just this.

  Our five aggregates subject to clinging are in the nature of duḥkha. They are a container in which past karma ripens, and the body in particular is the basis for aging, sickness, and death. Clinging to our present aggregates, our mind generates more afflictions, which create more karma, which causes future rebirths as well as pain and dissatisfaction during those lives. For example, being angry at our present problems, we may steal, lie, or criticize others, creating the karma to have more misery in the future. Clinging to worldly success in this life habituates us with this mental state, setting the stage for it to increase in future lives. In short, the aggregates are the basis in which the three, six, and eight types of duḥkha run rampant. Contemplating this deeply leads to the arising of a clear and powerful intention to renounce the bondage of saṃsāra and seek freedom.

  Examining True Duḥkha via Ten Points

  In the Śrāvakabhūmi, Asaṅga speaks of the four attributes of true duḥkha by way of ten points. Points 1–5 pertain to impermanence, points 6–8 to duḥkha, point 9 to emptiness, and point 10 to selflessness.22

  1. To understand the impermanence of change — that is, coarse impermanence — we examine changes that are easy to observe: our bodies are born and die; our health, appearance, and physiques may change suddenly as a result of injury or illness. Everything in our environment — trees, buildings, cities — and all the objects we use — food, transportation, buildings, medicine, and clothing — likewise are consumed or destroyed. The fleeting character of our happy, suffering, and neutral feelings and the swiftness by which our thoughts change from one moment to the next are also examples of coarse change. The objects we see, hear, smell, taste, touch, and think about all change, as do the cognitive faculties that enable us to apprehend them. Meditating on this in depth leads us to understand that all conditioned things are unstable and unreliable and therefore cannot bring us true satisfaction.

  2. Reflecting on the impermanence of perishability leads to an inferential cognizer that knows subtle impermanence. Here we contemplate that the coarse change we see could not occur without imperceptibly subtle moment-to-moment change. Nothing can stop functioning things from changing. They need no cause other than their arising to bring their disintegration; perishing is in their very nature. We may think that a volcano erupts suddenly, when in fact the pressure inside it has been building imperceptibly for a long time. We see the sun rise and set, but it goes across the sky moment-by-moment. As Candrakīrti says:

  Just as consciousness is momentary, all [other] conditioned things have the same momentary nature as the mind, because nothing obstructs the perishing of all conditioned things as soon as they appear and because the impermanence [of things] depends only upon [their] arising.23

  The impermanence of perishability also points to the multiplicity of situations in which we sentient beings find ourselves and to the diversity of our physical beauty, intelligence, wealth, fame, lifespans, contentment, and so forth. The vastness of these alternatives are conditioned by the countless and complex virtuous and nonvirtuous karma we create, not by chance and not by the will of an external creator. By meditating on this, we develop the conviction that conditioned factors in one lifetime — specifically our physical, verbal, and mental actions — bring about our experiences in future lives.

  3. To understand the impermanence of separation, we reflect on the changeability of our pe
rsonal situation and the separation from desirable circumstances that we experience without choice. We are healthy and then fall ill, we have freedom and then fall under the control of others, we have a happy family life but then circumstances change and it evaporates.

  4. To reflect on the impermanence of the dharmatā or nature of things, we consider that while we may not be experiencing the impermanence of change or the impermanence of separation in this moment, we will in the future. There is no way to continue whatever good circumstances we presently have, for change is the nature of everything in saṃsāra.

  5. The impermanence of the present is the perishability and separation that we presently undergo. Contemplating this reinforces the above contemplations, for we see that perishability and separation are occurring in this very instant.

  These reflections on impermanence bring home the fact that every facet of our being and every aspect of our lives and our world is transitory and unstable. This leads to a sense of unease regarding life in cyclic existence. Contemplating the next three points — the three forms of duḥkha — will increase our discomfort with remaining in saṃsāra.

  6. The duḥkha of pain is called “the aspect of being undesirable” because painful physical and mental experiences are unwanted. Still, they keep coming, counter to our wish for happiness.

  7. The duḥkha of change is called “the aspect of fetters and bondage” because even when our bodies and minds experience pleasure, that pleasure leads to the fetter of craving, which in turn gives rise to the bondage of birth, aging, sickness, death, sorrow, lamentation, pain, grief, and despair.

  8. The pervasive duḥkha of conditioning is called “the factor of our welfare not being secure” because even though we may experience a neutral feeling now, our aggregates are under the control of afflictions and karma. They possess the potential to experience the first two types of duḥkha with the slightest change of circumstances.

  Understanding impermanence leads to understanding duḥkha. Birth in cyclic existence is unsatisfactory because it is permeated with unwanted change: aging, sickness, death, meeting with the disagreeable, separating from the desirable, and not getting what we want. Contemplating duḥkha on the basis of understanding subtle impermanence jars our complacency. A deep sense of vulnerability arises because happiness and suffering are entirely at the whim of afflictions and karma. In our ignorant state, we have so little control over these.

  9. The aspect of unobservability refers to not being able to observe or discern a real self that exists separate from the aggregates. Here we contemplate that there is no self over and above all the instances of each of the aggregates. For example, when we say “I see,” there is merely a visual object, the eye faculty, and an immediately preceding consciousness. Together they cause a visual consciousness that perceives the object. I and mine are mere names, mere figures of speech; the aggregates are not possessed by a real self. Nor can a person be found among the aggregates. There is no observable self that creates karma and experiences its results. There is no findable self that circles in saṃsāra or attains liberation. These conditioned aggregates are completely empty of a self.

  10. The aspect of a lack of independence refers to the aggregates not being under the control of a self. The aggregates are dependent arisings that lack self-determination; they lack a controlling self.

  The understandings of impermanence, duḥkha, emptiness, and selflessness evolve in that order. Subtle impermanence means the aggregates arise due to causes and conditions: specifically afflictions and karma. Those causes and conditions bring about the three types of duḥkha, which give rise to craving and thus renewed cyclic existence. Understanding the pervasive duḥkha of conditioning in particular leads us to examine the relationship between the aggregates and self, and therefore to understand emptiness and selflessness. As Dharmakīrti points out (PV 2:254cd):

  For this very reason, the [Buddha] taught duḥkha through impermanence, and selflessness through duḥkha.

  Why does true duḥkha receive so much attention? It would be so much more pleasant to think of light, love, and bliss. However, encouraging us to contemplate duḥkha is the best way for the Buddha to rouse us from our complacency so that we will take advantage of our amazing opportunity to practice the Dharma. Just as a person won’t seek freedom if he is unaware that he is imprisoned or if he thinks prison is a comfortable environment, we will not seek liberation from cyclic existence without a clear awareness of what it is and why it is unsatisfactory. Deeply meditating on the above topics will energize us to turn away from the prison of saṃsāra and pursue the path to nirvāṇa.

  REFLECTION

  1. Reflect on Asaṅga’s ten points, one by one, making examples of each in your life.

  2. Focus on the conclusion that everything in cyclic existence is transient, unsatisfactory in nature, empty, and selfless.

  3. Aspire to attain liberation.

  Our Human Value

  Reflecting on the above descriptions of true duḥkha by applying them to our own lives and by observing the experiences of others is crucial for making this teaching come alive. By doing that, a sincere aspiration to be free from saṃsāra and attain liberation or awakening will arise in our minds. Those aspirations are the fuel for our Dharma practice. As our understanding of duḥkha gradually increases, so will our faith in the Three Jewels as qualified guides.

  Slowly we awaken to the fact that money, social status, popularity, power, praise, and appreciation — while useful in this life — do not bring lasting happiness and instead bring more worries and difficulties. We begin to see that chasing them is like riding a roller-coaster or merry-go-round — it may temporarily seem thrilling, but at the end we are back where we started. Enduring peace still eludes us, and deep inside we still lack a stable sense of self-worth. No matter how much luxury surrounds us, how exciting our jobs are, how famous we are, or how many people love us, we still are not beyond aging, sickness, and death.

  In response to this predicament, in their confusion some people self-medicate with any number of addictions — drugs, alcohol, work, sex, digital games, TV, gambling, shopping, and so on — but those only serve as short-term distractions that bring more suffering. Other people think life is meaningless and consider ending their lives. This is very foolish, for we all have great potential — the potential to become fully awakened buddhas, the potential to experience reliable joy and fulfillment.

  When we analyze how suffering and happiness arise in our minds, we see that they come about from our actions, which are motivated by our disturbing emotions and distorted views. Without even considering past lives, we can see that the more subdued our minds are, the more peaceful and happy we are. Even if our external environment is tumultuous, with inner mental peace we can transform external difficulties into the path to awakening by practicing mind-training teachings. But when our minds are upset, agitated, or obscured, we are miserable even when the external environment is fantastic. This clearly shows that happiness and suffering are related to our mental attitudes. Therefore training our minds is worthwhile.

  By reflecting on duḥkha in this way, we become less infatuated with saṃsāra and turn our natural aspiration for well-being to nirvāṇa. Gyelsay Togme Zangpo’s poem The Thirty-Seven Practices of Bodhisattvas (9) sums it up:

  Like dew on the tip of a blade of grass,

  pleasures of the three worlds last only a while and then vanish.

  Aspire to the never-changing supreme state of liberation —

  this is the practice of bodhisattvas.

  In describing his own spiritual journey before attaining awakening, the Buddha said (MN 26.13):

  Before my awakening, while I was still only an unawakened bodhisatta, I too, being myself subject to birth, sought what was also subject to birth. Being myself subject to aging, sickness, death, sorrow, and defilement, I sought what was also subject to aging, sickness, death, sorrow, and defilement. Then I considered, thus: “Why, being myself subje
ct to birth, do I seek what is also subject to birth? Why, being myself subject to aging, sickness, death, sorrow, and defilement, do I seek what is also subject to aging, sickness, death, sorrow, and defilement? Suppose . . . I seek the unborn supreme security from bondage, nibbāna. Suppose . . . I seek the unaging, unailing, deathless, sorrowless, and undefiled supreme security from bondage, nibbāna.”

  While subject to the unsatisfactory circumstances of saṃsāra, we ignorant beings take refuge in people and things that are also subject to the vagaries of saṃsāra. What if we were to turn to the Three Jewels for refuge and seek nirvāṇa instead? Practitioners with this aspiration are not distracted by the appeal of saṃsāra’s pleasures, riches, power, and fame, and they easily stay focused on their spiritual aims. This leads to mental peace in this life as well as to liberation. Bodhisattvas expand on this aspiration for freedom to include all sentient beings and generate bodhicitta, the aspiration for full awakening.

  Lessening our attachment to saṃsāric pleasures does not mean having aversion toward our bodies, relationships, good food, praise, reputation, and other sense objects. These things, in and of themselves, are neither virtuous nor nonvirtuous; it is our craving for them that is the source of difficulties. The purpose of seeing the things of saṃsāra as unsatisfactory is to eliminate our craving for and clinging to them, because these emotions keep us bound in saṃsāra. To live in society, money and possessions are necessary. We can use them without attachment and share them with others to create merit. We human beings are social creatures and our lives depend on the kindness of others. We can appreciate the people in our lives and be compassionate toward them without being attached to them.