by Dalai Lama
Here are some tips to help you identify thoughts and afflictions. First check in with your body; our physical sensations often tell us a lot about what is happening in our minds. When our hearts are racing, our faces flush, and our stomachs tight, chances are anger — which is often based on fear — is present. When our palms are sweaty and our breaths short, we are usually agitated or nervous.
Also check in with the mood in your mind. When thoughts about desirable objects are swirling in your mind, attachment is manifest. When you can’t stand that someone else is better than you in a certain activity, that is jealousy. When you don’t feel like doing anything but lounge around, that is the laziness of procrastination. When you put yourself down, that is the laziness of discouragement.
Also observe your behavior patterns; they can tell you if an affliction has arisen in your mind. If you find yourself going to the refrigerator repeatedly even though you aren’t hungry, what affliction is present in your mind? If you continually check social media, what affliction is propelling this action? What are you really seeking when you engage in that behavior?
The next step is to differentiate constructive and neutral thoughts from afflictions. Some virtuous states of mind have “near enemies” — afflictions that are similar to them. Love and attachment are easily confused: both want another person to be happy. Love freely extends goodwill broadly to many people whereas attachment focuses on a small group of people and has expectations and strings attached. Righteous anger can be confused with compassion because they both seek to eliminate injustice and others’ suffering. However, compassion seeks the best outcome for all those concerned in a conflict whereas righteous anger wants to harm those whom we see as perpetrating harm.
Sometimes we must tease apart different facets of a mental state to identify an affliction. For example, a friend deliberately runs a red light when there are no extenuating circumstances. Some people become angry at the driver — the agent who did the action. Other people disagree with the action — heedlessly endangering others. The first is anger, the second is not. The more we can separate the person from his action, the more we can avoid anger at the person. This change in attitude enables us to have a reasonable discussion with him about the possible effects of running a red light.
Then reflect on the disadvantages of whatever affliction is plaguing you. That will give you determination to apply its counterforce.
When working to subdue our afflictions, it is best to choose the one that causes the biggest problems for us. Beginners in meditation often recognize that they have attachment to food, but that may not be the affliction that is most problematic for them. Anger may be a bigger problem because it interferes with our relationships at work and at home and fuels destructive behavior. Possessiveness regarding other people, lusting for sexual pleasure, or greed for money or social status may cause more difficulties in our lives and prompt more destructive karma than attachment to food. On the other hand, if you are overweight and in poor health and your doctor advises you to eat more healthily, attachment to food may be the affliction to work with first. If you work on the most problematic affliction at the outset of your practice, you’ll see the positive effects Dharma practice has on your life.
One of the connotations of the word dharma is to hold back or to prevent. In the case of the Buddhadharma, if we properly practice, it holds us back from saṃsāric duḥkha by subduing or destroying afflictions. The Dharma does this by providing the antidotes to these harmful mental factors. Everything taught in this book is meant to be a counterforce to the afflictions, their seeds, and latencies.
There are two types of counterforces. One is the all-encompassing counterforce that counteracts all afflictions. The other consists of counterforces that are specific to each affliction. The wisdom realizing emptiness is the all-encompassing counterforce that eradicates all afflictions. It directly opposes the ignorance grasping inherent existence, which is the root of afflictions. While ignorance grasps all phenomena, including the I, to exist inherently, the wisdom directly realizing emptiness apprehends the emptiness of inherent existence of all persons and phenomena. Because ignorance and wisdom are diametrically opposed in the way they apprehend phenomena and because ignorance is an erroneous consciousness, wisdom can overcome ignorance. When ignorance is uprooted, all the afflictions that depend on it also cease.
Other counterforces do not have the ability to eliminate ignorance but are applied to individual afflictions. Since cultivating the wisdom realizing emptiness requires much time, we must learn and apply these more limited antidotes in the meantime to prevent our afflictions from getting out of hand. Some antidotes to cultivate:
•To counteract attachment, craving, clinging, and greed, reflect on the impermanence of whatever person or object you are attached to. Contemplating the unattractive aspects of the person or object also works well.
•When you crave for existence in saṃsāra, contemplate the disadvantages of saṃsāra. This powerful antidote will redirect our aspiration to liberation.
•To pacify anger and vengeance, cultivate fortitude.
•To remedy hatred, hostility, resentment, and so forth, meditate on loving-kindness.
•To counteract conceit, contemplate the detailed divisions of phenomena, such as the eighteen elements, the twelve sources, and the twelve links of dependent origination. Seeing the enormity of what there is to understand, self-importance is deflated. In addition, by examining all the components of the self, attachment to a real self will diminish.
•To counteract arrogance, reflect on the kindness of others. Seeing that our abilities, talents, and knowledge are due to the kindness of others deflates puffed-up pride.
•To reverse jealousy, rejoice at others’ happiness, good qualities, good opportunities, and merit.
•To remedy anxiety and deluded doubt, observe the breath. Focus your attention on the gentle flow of your breath without allowing the mind to spin with fabricated, self-centered stories.
•When you are confused and cannot discern virtue from nonvirtue or what to practice from what to abandon on the path, study the sūtras and scriptures. They will provide excellent guidance.
•To lessen disturbing emotions in general, remember that they are not you; they are not who you are and are not embedded in the nature of your mind.
At the initial stages of practice, lessening our afflictions is difficult. They seem to arise out of nowhere because we are so habituated to them. Our counterforces are weak, and time and continuous effort are needed to strengthen the antidotes and to develop positive qualities. Being patient with ourselves and going ahead with a determined, optimistic attitude are important to train our minds in new mental habits.
The above counterforces are temporarily effective for the specific affliction they counteract. To gain proficiency in them we must practice them regularly, especially when we are not in the heat of an affliction. Having a regular daily meditation practice, where you can imagine applying these techniques to situations you may encounter or have already encountered, is very effective in this regard.
The antidotes must be applied skillfully so that we don’t go too far in the other direction. For example, the antidote to lust is reflecting on the foulness of the body. However, if done unskillfully, this could lead to hating our bodies or disparaging the person whose body we are attracted to. Similarly, if cultivated unskillfully, loving-kindness could lead to attachment.
While using these antidotes to temporarily reduce the force of coarse afflictions, we should also reflect on emptiness to cultivate the wisdom that will eliminate all afflictions forever. By combining single-pointed concentration with a correct understanding of emptiness, our wisdom will eventually become strong enough to uproot the afflictions and obscurations from the mind so that they never return.
REFLECTION
1. Which affliction is the strongest and most frequent in your mind?
2. Contemplate its disadvantages in this life and for your sp
iritual path.
3. What is the temporary antidote to that affliction? Remember situations when that affliction was strong and contemplate its antidote. See if the force of the affliction subsides even a little. When it does, rejoice.
I came across an interesting passage written by the Kadampa master Togme Zangpo that called the view of a personal identity “the spear of the buddhas.” This is unusual because afflictions are typically said to lack any redeeming qualities. Here Togme Zangpo described a skillful way of using the view of a personal identity as a weapon to destroy the duḥkha caused by the view of a personal identity. Initially as beginners with strong self-grasping, we think, “I want to be free from saṃsāra.” Although this aspiration is afflicted by the view of a personal identity, it motivates us to learn, think, and meditate on emptiness, which will eventually destroy the view of a personal identity. Here we see that for some people at a certain point in their practice, grasping at a truly existent self could spur them to practice.
A similar idea is found in a Pāli sūtra. Explaining the Dharma to a bhikṣuṇī, Ānanda said (AN 4.159):
It has been said, “Bhikkhunī, this body has come into being through craving, yet based on craving, craving can be abandoned.” With reference to what was this said? In this case, a monastic hears it said, “They say that a monastic named so-and-so, by the destruction of the pollutants, in this very life enters and dwells in the unpolluted liberation of mind, liberation by wisdom, having realized it for himself by direct knowledge.” He thinks, “Oh, when shall I too realize the unpolluted liberation of mind, liberation by wisdom?” Sometime later, based on that craving, he abandons craving. It is on account of this that it was said, “This body has come into being through craving, yet based on craving, craving can be abandoned.”
Characterized by this body, which is in the nature of duḥkha, saṃsāra comes about through craving, yet when a monastic hears that another monastic has attained liberation, he craves to attain this too. Motivated by this new craving, he practices well and attains nirvāṇa, the destruction of all craving. In the passage following this, Ānanda says the same regarding arrogance. Here a monastic hears that another monastic has attained nirvāṇa and his pride is wounded because the other monastic attained it first. Arrogance arises in him, and not wanting to be outshone, he is energized to prove that he can attain nirvāṇa as well. This motivation of arrogance instigates him to practice in such a way that all his arrogance is eradicated forever. Some teachers use a similar technique to energize lazy students on the debate ground. These are skillful ways to use afflictions to destroy afflictions.
When we first learn the Dharma, living without attachment seems impossible. We fear relinquishing attachment will turn us into uncaring, self-absorbed individuals. Thankfully, this is not the case. Some examples of how liberated beings respond to real human situations will give us a glimpse of what living with a transformed mind will be like.
Śāriputra, the Buddha’s foremost disciple in wisdom, commented to some monastic friends that he wondered if there were anything in the world whose change or loss would cause him sorrow, lamentation, pain, or despair. Examining himself, he did not see anything that would destabilize his emotional balance. Ānanda, the Buddha’s attendant, then asked him, “What would happen if our Teacher, the Buddha, were to undergo change and pass away? Wouldn’t that cause you pain?” Śāriputra responded with all sincerity (SN 21.2):
Friend, even if the Teacher himself were to undergo change and alteration, still sorrow, lamentation, pain, displeasure, and despair would not arise in me. However, it would occur to me, “The Teacher, so influential, so powerful and mighty, has passed away. If the Blessed One had lived for a long time, that would have been for the welfare and happiness of the multitude, out of compassion for the world, for the good, welfare, and happiness of devas and humans.”
Stunned with admiration, Ānanda responded that Śāriputra’s emotional balance and compassion even at the time of losing the most important person in his life were due to the depth of his Dharma practice:
It must be because I-making, mine-making, and the underlying tendency to arrogance have been thoroughly uprooted in the Venerable Sāriputta for a long time that even if the Teacher himself were to undergo change and alteration, still sorrow, lamentation, pain, displeasure, and despair would not arise in him.
Śāriputra’s equanimity in the face of his own personal loss was not due to repressing his emotions. The attainment of arhatship did not make him a cold person. He was certainly concerned and deeply moved by the prospect of the Buddha’s passing, but it was not out of self-interest, for he had forsaken all grasping to I and mine as well as relinquished the deeply rooted conceit thinking, “I exist.” He was moved because he saw the benefit of the Buddha’s presence in the world and the loss of his passing for all beings who need the Dharma. His sorrow was for others, not himself.
Interestingly, when Śāriputra heard that the Buddha would soon attain parinirvāṇa, he told the Tathāgata that he could not bear to witness the event and chose to attain parinirvāṇa himself before the Buddha.
Afflictions, Our Real Enemy
When we face difficulties in life, we tend to attribute their causes to external factors: a friend’s behavior, our employer’s speech, governmental policies, and so forth. The Buddha questioned our assumption that the chief cause of our problems lies outside of ourselves; he pointed us back to our own minds, asking us to examine our thoughts and emotions to see how they create both internal unhappiness as well as disharmony in our relationships and in society. The disadvantages of distorted conceptions and disturbing emotions extend beyond this lifetime, adversely influencing all our lives. Śāntideva likened afflictions to vicious enemies whom, in our confusion, we treat as friends (BCA 4.28–30, 32–34).
Enemies such as craving and hatred
are without arms, legs, and so on.
They are neither courageous nor wise.
How is it that they have enslaved me?
Dwelling in my mind, they ruin me;
at their pleasure, they cause me harm.
And yet I patiently endure them and do not get angry
at my tolerance with this shameful and improper situation.
If all devas and humans were my enemies,
even they would be unable to bring me to the fire of Avīci Hell.
When encountered, it consumes even the ashes of Mount Meru.
Afflictions, the mighty enemies, instantly throw me there.
All other enemies are incapable
of remaining for such a length of time
as can my afflictions, the enduring enemy
that has neither beginning nor end [if left unopposed].
While in cyclic existence, how can I be joyful and unafraid
if, in my heart, I readily prepare a place
for this incessant enemy of long duration,
the sole cause for the increase of all that harms me?
And how shall I ever have happiness
if, in a net of attachment within my mind,
there dwell the guardians of the prison of cyclic existence,
these afflictions that are my butchers and tormentors in hell?
The afflictions don’t have arms and legs; they cannot assault our bodies. Yet the harm they inflict on us is far worse than any external assailant or murderer. The worst thing other sentient beings can do is to take our lives, which indeed is horrible. But they cannot propel us into an unfortunate rebirth the way the afflictions can by motivating us to act nonvirtuously and to create the karma that propels us into rebirths of intense suffering.
Furthermore, harmful sentient beings will eventually die, while the afflictions have resided in our minds beginninglessly and will not depart of their own accord. They may even grow stronger. Seen this way, our patient acceptance of afflictions sabotages our own happiness. We will never have happiness as long as this enemy dwells cozily in our minds, constantly inflicting pain on u
s. We should be totally fed up with this situation and fight back. Śāntideva continues (BCA 4.39, 44, 46–48):
If even scars inflicted by meaningless enemies
are worn upon the body like ornaments,
then why is suffering a cause of harm to me
while impeccably striving to fulfill the great purpose?
It would be better for me to be burned,
to have my head cut off and be killed,
rather than ever bowing down
to those ever-present disturbing conceptions.
Deluded afflictions! When overcome by the eye of wisdom
and dispelled from my mind, where will you go?
Where will you dwell to be able to injure me again later?
Weak-minded, I have been reduced to making no effort.
If these afflictions do not exist within the objects, the cognitive faculties, between the two or elsewhere,
then where do they exist and how do they harm the world?
They are like an illusion — thus I should dispel the fear within my heart and strive resolutely for wisdom.
For no real reason, why should I suffer so much in hell?
Therefore, having thought about this well,
I should try to put these precepts into practice just as they have been explained.
If the doctor’s instructions are ignored,
how will a patient in need of a cure be healed by the medicine?
Proud of their combat, warriors wear their battle scars like medals. While combating this most insidious enemy, our afflictions, we must not shirk from any harm that may come about. We will never bow down to this enemy or accept defeat. For the benefit of all sentient beings, we will generate the wisdom realizing emptiness that will obliterate the afflictions such that they can never return.