The Three Marks of Existence in the Buddhist Faith: Part Two: Anatta

A few months ago, a couple of people were inquiring if there was anything in Buddhism that I didn't like, or disagreed with, something that I found a little bit unsettling, or that puzzled me at all. I remembered back to when I was required to write a journal for an Eastern Religions course and we were asked to write down our thoughts about what would be the easiest step on The Eightfold Path for us, and what would be the most difficult. I remember that I wrote down "Right Understanding" would be the hardest for me to follow, being that I didn't completely agree with all of the aspects of Buddhist metaphysics.

The part that I had trouble agreeing with wholeheartedly was the concept of "no-soul." What I am referring to, is called "Anatta." It is the second of the three marks of existence in Buddhism. It is essentially the belief in a lack of an eternal un-dying soul within our bodies, and it contradicts the idea that an ego or personality's existence is permanent. For those that grew up in Buddhism this might not be so difficult for them to grasp, however, I was raised by a very Catholic mother. So, when I think about a future in which I would not be reunited with my parents one day, it is rather depressing to say the least.

This week I have been mulling over many varying opinions about this idea, and I've also been reading about the different perspectives people have as to the nature of what a soul really "is" or "is not" in the first place. While I still haven't formed a solid conclusion about my personal opinion about this, and rightfully so: considering how important an end-of-life concept is to a person's faith and their outlook on life; I still want to share and give my interpretations of this idea of an impermanent identity and consciousness.

While all of us understand that technically the brain dies when biological death happens and when all neurological functions cease to be, most Americans- including myself, cling to the idea that after a person dies their soul and spirit continue to live on. But if the neurological connectors that help us to form thoughts, and to feel emotion are gone, how can a person's soul truly continue to exist after death?

Buddhists say that in order for something come into being in the first place, it must be ever-changing, and subsequently cease to exist. Though, if that were the case with my identity and personality, isn't it a little strange then that I am the same person that I was yesterday? Narada Thera writes, “Buddhists do agree with (Bertrand) Russell when he says 'there is obviously some reason in which I am the same person as I was yesterday, and, to take an even more obvious example if I simultaneously see a man and hear him speaking, there is some sense in which the 'I' that sees is the same as the 'I' that hears.'” Thus, I would infer that even though we are unable to locate the identity of a person and the location of their soul scientifically, it clearly exists in a very similar way every single day.

On the website of the author Greg Stone, which runs in accordance with a book he wrote dedicated to exploring the after-life, called Under the Tree, says of those holding the "no-soul" belief:

Those holding the “no soul” view argue a person is comprised only of the aggregates (skandhas): 1) material processes, 2) feeling, 3) perception, 4) mental formations, and 5) consciousness. In the “no soul” interpretation a being that transcends the aggregates does not exist. The aggregates are all that exist. All aspects of a person are impermanent and transitory: nothing survives the dissolution of aggregates upon body death.

However, various schools of Buddhism do not seem to interpret the five aggregates of a person's existence in exactly the same way. Also, if consciousness is one of the five aggregates and the Buddha recalled his former lives, then how could that be possible without a continuous stream of consciousness that was present throughout all of his former lives?

The Buddha taught students to cease identifying with the five aggregates. He taught you are not your physical body; not your mind; not your perceptions; not your feelings; not mental imprints. Those qualities are not self. He taught cessation of attachment to those aggregates. The purpose of the practice was to free oneself from attachment and identification with that which was not self, the aggregates. (Stone)

To me, it would be extremely difficult not to identify with the five aggregates. For if we are not our processes, feelings, perceptions, mental formations, and consciousness: then what are we? "Buddhism does not totally deny the existence of a personality in an empirical sense. It only attempts to show that it does not exist in an ultimate sense. The Buddhist philosophical term for an individual is santana, i.e., a flux or a continuity."(Thera) If that is the case, then there is a soul and a self in Buddhism that lies within an individual's body that is there inside of a mind everyday: most Buddhists just do not see it as being of the same consistency, everlastingly belonging to that individual, and existing beyond life.

As I mentioned before, the opinions about this from different Buddhists differ, just one of many Buddhist schools: Tibetan Buddhism, offers an intermediate state after death. I found this idea stated in a passage from the Tibetan Book of the Dead on the internet. I found this passage so interesting, because it got me thinking that if there is really no "I" in Buddhism then there could be no "you" either:

Since you [no longer] have a material body of flesh and blood, whatever may come—sounds, lights, or rays— are, all three, unable to harm you; you are incapable of dying. It is quite sufficient for you to know that these apparitions are your own thought-forms. Recognize this to be the bardo [the intermediate state after death].

Despite how much all of these opinions fascinate me, I don't think it is all that necessary for me to gain that much clarity about the fate of my soul just yet. -pretty cryptic, no? Being so young, I think with time and study, and personal contemplating, the answer to this question will eventually reveal itself. I think there is only so much a person can come to based on analysis, at some point your own emotions and your "gut" feelings take over. I feel that no person can really say that emotional decision about the after-life is wrong, because what is true in terms of belief for one person is completely relative to them.

Being the daughter of a Catholic mother, I grew up with the hopefulness in mind that one day I would be reunited with loved ones in a "heaven" of sorts. While that might seem lofty to some Buddhists, I think once you have been met with that idea and have had it in the back of your thoughts for a long period of time, meanwhile, observing death around you: it would be very hard for any person to let go of that kind of faith. When a person's faith is so personal, so emotional, and so complicated, I wonder how necessary it is to completely "decide" all things about it. Is it really necessary to follow one faith, or any faith at all, and wouldn't it be completely possible for someone to instead take parts from different faiths to make up their personal beliefs? Who is to say that you must impose any rules upon yourself to completely define your faith into a specific category? As someone that has found Buddhism very useful, and directly psychologically helpful to them; the thought of one's identity being so subject to future decay is supremely depressing, at best.

Sarah

Works Cited

"How the Major Religions View the Afterlife: Buddhism." Unexplained Stuff. Advameg Inc., 2008. Web. 28 Mar. 2013.

O'Brien, Barbara. "Skandha." About. About.com, 2013. Web. 27 Mar. 2013.

Stone, Greg. "The Buddhist Paradox." Visit Under the Tree. Pink Unicorn Publishing, 2013. Web. 27 Mar. 2013.

Thera, Narada. "Buddhism in a Nutshell." Buddhanet. Buddha Dharma Education Association, 1996-2012. Web. 27 Mar. 2013.

The Three Marks of Existence in the Buddhist Faith: Part One: Anicca

The word Anicca comes from the terms: "nicca," meaning permanence and infinite continuity, and the privative particle "A," implying an absence of. Therefore, "Anicca" means the impermanence. In the case of Buddhist studies, this term means a total and absolute acceptance of the fleeting nature of things. It is the idea that anything which comes into being must eventually go. To this concept, some argue that:

Everything that occurs in the world, perceived by us, is inherently subject to decay, as soon as it appears. The aspect of change, the aspect of impermanence is vividly shown by the simple fact that phenomena appear. As soon as a phenomenon manifests, we are duly informed about its impermanent nature as before it occurred, it had not manifested yet and then it is here before us. We can ascertain that it just appeared. Therefore a change took place, and as a matter of fact, in particular when a phenomenon appears. Then, this phenomenon will have a limited duration, and it will inevitably disappear. As soon as it appears, a natural law compels it to ultimately vanish. This is valid for all of them, without exception. (Dhammadana)

With the concept of Anicca, a person would have to accept the argument that everything we see as our permanent reality is not a permanent fixture as we have come to know it, but is actually just a conditional feature which depends on a series of changes to occur in order for it to exist in the universe at all. It must also, after going through a series of changes on its own, subsequently cease to exist alike everything else in the universe.

We cannot find anything that is permanent. Flowers decompose, but knowing this does not prevent us from loving flowers. In fact, we are able to love them more because we know how to treasure them while they are still alive. If we learn to look at a flower in a way that impermanence is revealed to us, when it dies, we will not suffer. Impermanence is more than an idea. It is a practice to help us touch reality. (Hanh)

It is my impression that the general purpose of becoming knowledgeable about Anicca and the other marks of existence in Buddhism (which I will later describe) is for us to comprehend the true nature of things.

A person's comprehension of the true nature of things is an essential element of Buddhism. It is also essential to how much Buddhist philosophy can directly relate to a individual's personal view of their current reality. This is because, it is said that by understanding the true nature of things, we are able to "..free ourselves from the need for certain experiences, attachment to self and to the illusion of permanence." - Ven. Dr. Karuna Dharma. This awakening to the illusion of permanence is not meant to make a follower of this idea feel cold to the experiences of life. It is meant to enhance their life by giving them the power of knowing that the lack of fortune they might have at the present time will not last forever, and the superb or miraculous circumstances one might be in right now, could go at any time.

But why then, should we attempt to have happiness if it will simply leave us soon or eventually with time? On that subject, the Buddha's perspective was paraphrased by the writer Thanissaro Bhikkhu as thus:

"His wisdom lay in realizing that the effort that goes into the production of happiness is worthwhile only if the processes of change can be skillfully managed to arrive at a happiness resistant to change. Otherwise, we're life-long prisoners in a forced-labor camp, compelled to keep on producing pleasurable experiences to assuage our hunger, and yet finding them so empty of any real essence that they can never leave us full."

I believe the point of knowing this real nature of things is to find a long-lasting happiness that is not fleeting. If we are utterly latched-onto something that is not going to last for a long period of time, then, when it does leave us it tears us. The intention of this idea of a non-permanent reality is not to prevent us from realizing something good when it comes or to prevent us from experiencing it. In contrast, this concept is there to reinvigorate a person with a more free form of joy: one which does not need much.

Are we then to love by holding back? No, because: "When we know that the person we love is impermanent, we will cherish our beloved all the more. Impermanence teaches us to respect and value every moment and all the precious things around us and inside of us.." - Thich Nhat Hanh

The Buddha taught with more of a "middle-way" in mind - that of not going to either extreme. He applied this to many of his teachings, including how a person in any age should interpret these profound marks of a something's existence.

Sarah

Works Cited

"Anicca: The Aspect of Impermanence." Dhammadana. Creative Commons, n.d. Web. 20 Mar. 2013.

Bhikkhu, Thanissaro. "All About Change." Access to Insight. N.p., 2004. Web. 20 Mar. 2013.

Dharma, Ven. Dr. Karuna. "Anitya." Buddhism Today. N.p.,  07 Jan. 2000. Web. 20 Mar. 2013.

Hanh, Thich Nhat. The Heart of the Buddha’s Teaching: Transforming Suffering into Peace, Joy, and Liberation. New York: Broadway Books, 1998. Print.

Buddhists of America.

Why do westerners take to Buddhism so much? This is something that I have wondered within the last year or so quite a bit. Before taking any religion course, I would have heard the term Buddhism and automatically associated it with monks in the far East Asia. I would have immediately pictured some brief visual image of a few monks gathering quietly in lengthy saffron robes, standing with their hands placed in a "Namaste" greeting sort of way. I initially saw the religion as something very far from me: something foreign, taking place in a land a tremendous distance from little me in The United States. I saw it as something that was cultural, and as a religion having nothing at all to do with The United States. However, I was very wrong about that.

I didn't know at the time about the spread of Buddhism to the West and how there are in fact many Buddhism temples and places of Buddhist study in these countries, and in particular: the U.S, nor was I aware of how there continues to be a massive growth of people practicing Buddhism where I live.

According to one world-renowned religious texts author, historically speaking "Wherever Asian Buddhists traveled, they carried Buddhism into their new surroundings. In the middle of the nineteenth century, Chinese workers migrated to California as the gold rush and railways opened up new opportunities." However, I am less interested in the geographical way in which Buddhism has spread to the West and much more interested in the reasons as to why westerners have come to attach themselves to these ideas so frequently.

I would speculate that the main reason would be the simple fact that they find meditation calming. Westerners find that meditation gives them solace and a little bit of relief from any, or from all of the massive amounts of stress which they sometimes accumulate throughout their work week. I see that factor as the most frequent reason for why a person's interest in Buddhism first transpires.

I have since found out that in addition to a westerner wholly becoming a Buddhist follower, many Americans and westerners belonging to other countries, have come to find that Buddhism attaches very well to any religious faith which they might already have. Even if that includes practicing Buddhist philosophy and the basic principles of Buddhism whilst adhering to a different religious faith concurrently, in accordance with Buddhist philosophy. To them it does not matter whether or not they are completely 100% Buddhist and only that, or not. Most people find the ideas are easy to "add-on" to other religious faiths, and in a nutshell: they feel that it does not contradict with those beliefs nor does it result in any personal confliction with their normal everyday life which they had before becoming involved with these ideas, but rather the Buddhist ideals compliment it very well.

Watch American Buddhism on the Rise on PBS. See more from Religion & Ethics NewsWeekly.

"Buddhism is often embraced by people in the West because they long for peace of mind in the midst of a chaotic materialistic life." - Mary Pat Fisher.

This includes people of many shapes and sizes, and countries. It also includes more recognizable faces, like the actor Richard Gere and Adam Yauch or "MCA" of Beastie Boys fame.

It doesn't matter their color or creed, or whether they are Tibetan or Indian, or a Virginian. In Buddhism, you can be completely Buddhist or only read and follow a few basic teachings and you will still be some form of a practicing Buddhist. Its accessibility means, you can be at any location in the world, belong to any school or no school and it does not really matter as the fundamentals do not change. Buddhism's flexibility allows you to think about it for yourself and gives you the room to maintain your own interpretation of it as you wish. It allows you the freedom to adapt it to your life's plan as you see fit, and that is a very interesting thing.

Sarah

Works Cited.

Fisher, Mary Pat. Living Religions. Upper Saddle River: Pearson/Prentice Hall, 2011. Print.

Meditation is more than sitting.

Part Two: An expansion on its theory and practice.

"What's encouraging about meditation is that even if we shut down, we can no longer shut down in ignorance. We see very clearly that we're closing off. That in itself begins to illuminate the darkness of ignorance." - Pema Chodron.

Meditation, in and of itself does not exclusively belong whatsoever to any particular religious faith and belong in the confines of that faith only. In a sense, it is actually a staunch rebellion of having to belong to anything. There is no snobbish Buddhists-only philosophical club that you are not allowed to trek anywhere near. The simple act of meditating is not exclusive to Buddhists at all, and there are no reins within which it should be restricted.

While you are meant to let go of your problems, rampant unpleasant emotions, and certain kinds of thoughts; the way in which you do so, your intent, the time that passes, the style in which you do it, the chosen focus, or lack of a focus, and the extent that you desire to take it, is all up to you. There are a lot of recommendations, but no rules. To quote Sakyong Mipham Rinpoche, "Meditation practice predates Buddhism and all of the world religions. It has lasted through the centuries because it is direct, potent, and effective."

Perhaps we associate meditation with spirituality because when we experience a moment of peacefully abiding, it seems so far-out. Our mind is no longer drifting, thinking about a million things. The sun comes up or a beautiful breeze comes along—and all of a sudden we feel the breeze and we are completely in tune. We think, "That's a very spiritual experience! It's a religious experience! At least worth a poem, or a letter home." Yet all that's happening is that for a moment we are in tune with our mind. Our mind is present and harmonious. Before, we were so busy and bewildered that we didn't even notice the breeze. Our mind couldn't even stay put long enough to watch the sun to come up, which takes two-and-a-half minutes. Now we can keep it in one place long enough to acknowledge and appreciate our surroundings. Now we are really here. In fact, this is ordinary. This is the not just the point of being Buddhist, it's the point of being human. (Rinpoche)

It is with that observation in mind, how I will begin my second meditation session today. Due to being very tired, I've had coffee first (a lot of it), put some cold water on my face and added a few gentle slaps to wake myself up, and due to an intensely painful athletic soreness in my back - today I will be meditating on the couch. Thus, I started my meditation session just after I typed that sentence. I turned all of the lights off and set my alarm for 30 minutes, I chose this time because I knew that my mind would drift a lot as it always does, and I really wanted to feel what I had felt last time.

With my computer asleep I began to try to meditate again, but this time I was at home, which is drastically different than being at a Buddhist temple. As I started to meditate, I really missed that strong scent of incense that I had once smelled sitting in Ekoji. So I thought about lighting a candle, remembering that I had just bought a few brand new ones from Target that might smell great, but then it suddenly hit me that I know myself all to well in that regard, meaning that I would end up over thinking that as well. I know for certain that within minutes of lighting that little scented candle I would then start to wonder why I wasn't smelling it enough, whether or not I should blow that one out and switch to another one, this distracting and irrelevant thought, that distracting and irrelevant thought, etcetera.

Subsequently, I was sitting half lotus-style on the couch with my eyes completely closed, initially thinking incessantly about remembering small details to later put in this post. I was wondering how much time had already past (most likely after only a few minutes), even peeking with one of my eyes at the clock at for a moment. However, I wanted to have this experience. I had already felt many of the benefits of meditation in full-force after just one time and I wanted to feel it again with a passion. I realized somewhat quickly that I would be there for a half an hour no matter what, so I might as well just relax. I was beginning to let go of all of my perpetual thinking about what exactly I was going to write about my experience, how I would phrase it, and what words I would choose. It was then that I began gradually falling deeper into my mind, with much less concern about the things going on in the outside busy world, without a care about minutes, or time.

In total, I most likely fell asleep at least twice, if not a few times more, with each time being a duration of about a couple seconds (as I live in an apartment building, staying asleep midday is highly unlikely) but most of the time I was completely aware. Thoroughly breaking with any true Buddhist posture, I decide to grab onto my cold toes to stay awake and attempted to repeatedly clutch them semi-tightly whilst meditating as a means of not drifting off again. I proceeded to pull my foot further onto my thigh to add more resistance, and leaned my head backward to create some tension in my neck. All of this I did because I thought it would keep me more awake.

I regained focus on the dark black underneath my eyelids that I had been watching while inside of my closed eyes, and returned to noticing the feeling of my breath moving slowly in and out of my stomach. I felt that the most helpful concept as I was sitting there, was to listen and to notice all of the miscellaneous sounds going on around me: the heater's fan-like noise, the crackling of the internet modem and other electronics, people in other apartments coming and going, the planes flying overhead.

After meditating, I cared so much less about the distractions: that of this entry being overdue, getting it in as soon as possible, that girlish-perfectionist personality type goal of my hair and skin being perfect, anything about transferring schools or my figure, anything at all about social media, the future, and even my worrying about cleaning up the room I'm in. I've noticed there is a clear correlation between the distractions one hears while meditating, and the personal struggles that occur within us, and the emotionally stirring distractions that we experience daily in life. I've noticed this, based on only two short periods of meditation so far, and by using myself as the experimentation. There is truly something about letting yourself get a little lost internally and consciously bringing yourself back, that gives you a more proficient awareness of your thoughts, and forces you to be centered.

In conclusion, the time that I have spent meditating has always gone by surprisingly fast. When you consider the length of the average commercial break, the amount of commercial breaks, and the time that you must spend having to wait in line for things in life: the spending of a short amount of time to re-ground yourself to the basic structure of living a good life is not so bad.

Sarah

Works Cited

"Meditation FAQ." Shambhala. Shambhala International, n.d. Web. 21 Feb. 2013.

"Pema Chodron quotes." ThinkExist. ThinkExist, n.d. Web. 21 Feb. 2013.

Meditation is more than sitting.

Part One.

When I was much younger, my initial impression of meditation was that it was essentially a weird thing to do for "hippies." I pictured what it looked like: a bunch of people sitting around a room in silence for a long period of time, and I thought it was a very bizarre, odd thing. I thought it was just something for monks or something that "oddball" sorts of people did, and those trying to be "hip." Since then, I have certainly matured a great deal to say the very least, and I have since come to the realization that meditation is nothing like that at all, not in the slightest, not remotely.

In a world religions course at my college, a former professor of mine showed us few small videos. Within each, was a variety of accounts as to how meditation is practiced in detail. Each one of those short videos of just a few-minutes in length, consisted of different people talking about meditation and its nearly incomprehensibly profound and deep effect on them, and the way it has magnificently affected their lives. Some of those persons were Buddhist, but many of them were not. It gave me a entirely different perspective on meditation: what it is, and why people do it. The benefits those people have described, of which, they have each singlehandedly derived from very the simple act of meditating are not found in sitting or in being quiet, but are found elsewhere. The true heartfelt intense benefits of meditating are found in the ability of a human being to quiet their mind for sustained moments in time, and the ability to suppress that relentless endless stream of troubling thoughts and powerful emotions momentarily. It is in that way that a person achieves what they are supposed to in their first meditation, or within the first several.

While I am not sure of the titles or the locations of those particular videos that I have previously mentioned, here are some others which might help you:

Watch Meditation on PBS. See more from Religion & Ethics NewsWeekly.

Before my first meditation at the Buddhist temple Ekoji, I was emotionally overpowered, feeling figuratively steamrolled into paper, over-worked, and on the brink of what might have been a miniature nervous breakdown. I was taking somewhere between 15 and 18 credits, very stressed out, and overwhelmed. I didn't think at all about any effect the meditation might have on me. I didn't think that I would feel it, I didn't think that I would feel anything. Instead of that happening, after a little more than 15 minutes of meditation (with my eyes closed while I was sitting normally with my feet on the floor in your average chair), I ended up feeling when exiting the temple that a heavy weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I felt so much relief, in a way that I have never felt happen in that short of a time period.

Sarah