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(PDF) Thinking and Feeling: A Buddhist Perspective

(PDF) Thinking and Feeling: A Buddhist Perspective

Thinking and Feeling: A Buddhist Perspective
June 2011Sophia 50(2):253-263
DOI: 10.1007/s11841-011-0248-2
Authors:
Padmasiri de Silva
21.81Monash University (Australia)
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References (19)

Abstract
The work ‘Thinking and Feeling’ edited by Robert C. Solomon may be considered as a landmark in the history of the philosophy of the emotions. The work also has assembled together some of the best minds in the Anglo American Traditions. The central focus in this work is to mediate between the physiological arousal theories of emotions and the cognitive appraisal theories of emotions. My article is an attempt to mediate from my Asian background and in specific terms using the Buddhist perspectives on emotion studies, to find answers, a subject on which I have worked over several decades. The Buddha has discouraged people in attempting to find ultimate answers to the body- mind relationships, but use pragmatic and practical perspectives for a two way interactionism. Thus, in the Buddhist analysis the mental and the cognitive, as well as bodily and the physiological are recognised, thus giving room for a holistic understanding of emotions concepts. In fact, Buddhism expects the body, feelings, perceptions, interpretations, and evaluations as facets of emotion concepts. The second point is the domination of the metaphor of reasons as the charioteer in managing unruly emotions in the West. But Buddhism introduces the factor of ‘mindfulness’ as an important ally in the management of emotions. My personal work in therapy and counselling has helped me to explore new dimensions for managing emotions through mindfulness practice. KeywordsEmotions–Body mind relationships–Phisiological arousal theories–Cognative appraisal theories–Mindfulness

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          THINKING AND FEELING: THE WISE MANAGEMENT       
           OF EMOTIONS IN EARLY BUDDHISM


Prelude

During the last two decades there has been a significant revival in emotion studies due to new developments in neuroscience, biology, psychology and medicine. As a result of these developments, an important thesis emerged in cognitive science that understanding emotions is central to understanding intelligent systems. Thus it became necessary to locate emotions within the interacting systems of cognition, motivation and emotion. In our normal access to the sensory world, we see things as red, round, tall, dense and so on. We identify sensory stimuli as apples, trees, and rivers. But if our sensory stimulus is an unexpected and disturbing one- that something we see is a snake, the meaning of the sensory stimulus is strongly affective- fear. The difference between seeing red and “seeing fear” is important. In fact though conscious thoughts and conscious feelings appear to be similar, they are produced by different subsystems, and emotional feelings involve more subsystems than thought. It was one of the discoveries of the neurologist Joseph Ledoux, that the emotional meaning of a stimulus may be appraised by the brain, before the perceptual systems have fully processed the stimulus. Our emotions like that of fear of the snake occurs with tremendous speed that the appraisal we make- the snake is poisonous and it is a danger- occurs in a quick and automatic manner. This gives us some insight in to emotions like anger and lust, which may invade our thoughts and why it is “difficult to control our emotions”. 

Imagine walking in the woods. A crackling sound occurs. It goes straight to the amygdala through the thalamic pathways. The sound also goes from the thalamus to the cortex, which recognizes the sound to be a dry wig that snapped under the weight of your boot, or that of a rattlesnake shaking its tail. By the time the cortex has figured this out, the amygdala is already starting to defend against the snake (Ledoux, 1998,      )

This paper is concerned with the question why passions invade our thoughts and bodies and exploring Buddhist perspectives and methods for developing conscious control of these emotions. In his work, The Emotional Brain, Ledoux makes the following observation: 

…the struggle between thought and emotion may ultimately be resolved, not   simply by the dominance of the neocortical cognitions over the emotional system, but by a more harmonious integration of reason and passion in the brain, a development that will allow future humans to better know their true feelings and to use them more effectively in daily life (Ledoux, 1998, 20).

Many philosophers down the ages have raised the same question but given different answers. Spinoza the Spanish philosopher who spent a complete life devoted to the study of emotions observes: “The impotence of man to govern or restrain the emotions I call bondage, for a man who is under their control is not his own master, but is mastered by fortune, in whose power he is, so that he is often forced to follow the worse, although he sees the better before him” (Spinoza, 1963, 187). Ledoux gives an additional reason for the difficulty in managing emotions, which is of great interest from a Buddhist perspective. He says that the real predicament is that both our cognitions and emotions seem to operate unconsciously (Ledoux, 1998, 21). We can make sense of this process by referring to the analysis of subliminal propensities (anusaya) as found in the Buddhist discourses. In the discussion on anger as recorded in the book Destructive Emotions, the Dalai Lama observes: “In Buddhist psychology, there is an understanding that many of the emotions need not necessarily be manifest. In fact, the emotions themselves may be felt or experienced, but they are also present in the form of habitual propensities that remain unconscious, or dormant, until they are catalyzed” (Goleman, 2003, 141). These tendencies lie dormant and may be excited by suitable stimuli (pariyutthana) and because of their strong tenacity they provide the base for the emergence of greed, anger and conceit. 

The arousal of these tendencies is due to stimuli in the sensory field, thoughts or signals from the body. These stimuli generate pleasant, unpleasant feelings or neutral feelings. Pleasant feeling rouse subliminal tendency for lust and greed (raganusaya) and painful feelings rouse the subliminal tendencies for anger and hatred (patighanusaya). The arousal and persistence of this motivational cycle is also nourished by the roots of greed, hatred and delusion, which also make them unwholesome; morally wholesome states may have as their base generosity, compassion and wisdom. Feelings (vedana) also condition the emergence of three forms of craving: craving for sense gratification, craving for egoistic pursuits and the craving for self-annihilation (See, de Silva, 2000, 35-79). In Buddhist psychology, there is a close linkage of cognition, emotion and motivation.

“Yet, feeling by itself, in its primary state, is quite neutral when it registers the impact of an object as pleasant, unpleasant or indifferent. Only when emotional or volitional additions are admitted, will there arise a desire and love, aversion and hate, anxiety, fear and distorting views. Be that need not be so. These admixtures are not inseparable parts of the respective feelings. In fact, many of the weaker impressions we receive during the day stop at the mere registering of a very faint and brief feeling, without any further emotional reaction”(Nyanaponika, 1983, 2). Nyanaponika Maha Thero concludes that this the reason why the contemplation on feelings is a key factor in the path to liberation. By directing bare attention on feelings, they will be divested of their emotional components and of their egocentric reference.

Body and Mind as Theatres of Emotion

Our feelings may often be observed in relation to the body. As both the body and mind may be considered as theatres of emotion. If we loose touch with the body, there may be blockages of communication between the psyche and soma and thus leaving the way for conditions like alexythymia. As Joyce McDougall says in her work, Theatres of the Mind (McDougal, 1986, 177), Affects are one of the most privileged links between psyche and soma. Alexythymia is a condition where people loose contact with their emotions and also the skill of discriminating between different emotions. Sensations occur in the body at all times. They may be cold and heat, heaviness and lightness, pressure and vibration. They may take place as localized
bodily sensations like a localized pain in the foot, a lump in the throat and a general bodily condition like feeling tired or refreshed. If we show preferences or negative reactions they emerge as hedonic tones which may be painful, pleasurable or neutral.
If a person feels sleepy, tired, feverish or refreshed that would be a general bodily condition, which again may be associated with any of the hedonic tones. We may compare these with attitudinal feeling which are emotional (related to the body) like feeling distressed, depressed .The following passage from the discourses of the Buddha describe very well the attitudes of a person to his body. This passage refers to those who are under the spell of the craving for self-annihilation:

“those worthy recluses and brahmanas who lay down the cutting off, the destruction, the disappearance of the essential being, these, afraid of their own body, loathing their own body, simply keep running and circling round their own body” (MIII, 232-3). These attitudes towards the body are deeply emotional.

Once we make these finer distinctions in the way we speak about feelings, the next important point is that emotions have very significant physiological correlates in the body, and this is more true of emotions like anger, fear and sadness which are more closely linked to the physiology of the body and the neurology of the brain. Paul Griffiths who has written a well known work on the domination of the physiologically oriented emotions in humans or what he calls the “affect programme”, accepts that there are higher cognitive emotions like guilt, envy and jealousy which are not governed by affect programmes (Griffith,1997, 100). If we go to Buddhist texts it is quite clearly mentioned that “thoughts are translated in to sensations of the body” (sankappavitakka vedanasasamosaran, A IV 385).

What is important is to keep in mind that physiological arousal or bodily feeling is an important ingredient of emotions. In fact William James classic statement on the subject is worth quoting: “if we fancy some strong emotion, and then try to abstract from our consciousness of it all the feelings of its characteristic bodily symptoms, we find we have nothing left behind….and that a cold and neutral state of intellectual perception is all that remains” (James, 1984, 131). But as Gerald Myers (1987, 240) and Robert M.Gordon (1987, 92) have pointed out James appear to have been careless in formulating his theory or he may have thought that the sound of paradox (we cry because we are sad) is more effective in communicating his ideas. There are good examples that fit in to what is implied by James’s theory: for example the scared to death feeling we have when we suddenly miss a step in a long winding staircase. But to move from the position that the emotional quality of consciousness is caused by bodily feelings, to- our emotions are cause by bodily symptoms- is a long road indeed.

Emotions have a cold aspect and a hot aspect. The cold aspect consists of cognitive appraisals, how we see the world, the hot aspect is the arousal aspect. Desires and craving may take a cold aspect of cool calculation or a hot impulsive form. As the etymology of the word “emotion” embodies the notion of momentum, hot desires play a crucial role in the building- up of emotions. In Pali, there are three important terms for the mind: mano representing rational thinking, vinnana, sensory perception and citta thought under the influence of affects (Karunaratne, 1995, 2). Mind as citta is said to be throbbing, trembling and wavering and is compared to a fish that is taken out of water and placed on a dry land (Dh.V33). The mind is also described as fickle, flighty and wavering. The Middle Length Sayings gives a long list of sixteen states which excite and defile the mind. The term defilement (kilesa) brings out the moral and spiritual features of Buddhist psychological concepts. Covetousness, ill will, anger, enmity, revenge, contempt, jealousy, envy-avarice, deception, fraud, obstinacy, presumption, conceit, arrogance, vanity and indolence (MI, sutta 7).

When the mind is developed through the practice of the path of morality, concentration and wisdom, it is supposed to radiate its natural luster, which has been submerged by defilements. The liberated one is completely fee of these defilements and one may say has undergone a change of body chemistry. “An arahant experiences both physical and mental bliss (so kayasdukham pi cetasukham pi patisamvedeti) as all tensions (daratha), torments (santapa), and fevers (parilaha) have been completely eliminated for good” (L.de Silva, 1996, 6). What is important in this context is that, in the way bodily states and emotional experience have a close link the emergence of negative emotions, in the positive emotions associated with a liberated monk, we see again the link of physiology and emotions. It is said that in the liberated monk, the whole body is permeated with joy and bliss (Tgh, 274). 

In the final analysis, what Buddhism offers is a contemplative perspective on feeling, and the pleasurable, painful and neutral feelings are described as “impermanent, compounded, dependently arisen, liable to destruction, to evanescence, to fading away, to cessation”.






The Domination of a Metaphor

In the way that Ledoux calls for a harmonious relationship between reason and passion, western philosophy over the years saw the problem relating to the bondage of passions in terms one dominating metaphor first used by Plato: reason as the charioteer and passions as the unruly horses. Spinoza in fact develops a ratiocentric model where he attempts a geometry of passions, working out the thought components for each passion (Spinoza, 1963). David Hume turned the metaphor upside down saying that reason is and ought to be the slave of the passions. It is here that Buddhism replaces this dualism by replacing it with a three factor analysis: passions, reason and mindfulness. We often attempt to over-intellectualize our attempts to deal with the chaos of passions around our lives. It is our contention in this paper that the battle between our logical perceptions and emotions found in the western philosophical tradition might be taken to a more effective faculty- the practice of mindfulness. As Ajahn Sumedho says, “But the emotional nature is not rational. It’s a feeling nature, it is not going to go along with what is reasonable, logical, sensible” (Sumedho, 1998). He observes that if we have unkind feelings towards someone we develop metta towards the person, not being judgmental and having the patience to be with that feeling. 

 Paul Ekman in his recent book, Emotions Revealed (Ekman, 2003) presents a perspective that is very much open to the use of mindfulness practice during different stages of the emergence and expression of a negative emotion like anger. He says that if we develop the habit of being attentive or in Buddhist terminology develop mindfulness practice, we also develop the skill to observe ourselves during an emotional episode, ideally before more than a few seconds have passed. We can also recognize when we are emotional and consider whether our appraisal of the situation is justified and re-evaluate our appraisal. Most emotions involve judgments. In fact, the germinal state of what develops with great sped as an emotion is found in pleasurable, painful or neutral feelings (vedana). Then with the addition of thought, appraisals, desires and the excitement of our deeprooted tendencies towards attachment, aversion and conceit, including social and cultural filters, it would be clear that what appears as an emotion is a constructions. The important point is that we can “put our breaks” at any point on the development of this sequence from primary affect in to a full emotion. As we develop the skill of being attentive we are able to moderate our emotional behaviour, from facial expressions to speech and action. In fact one of the groundbreaking discoveries in brain science during recent times is the concept of the plasticity of the brain emerging out of the research of Richard Davidson. The pats of the brain like the frontal lobes, amygdale and the hypocampus are parts of the brain affected by emotional experiences but meditative experience is able to bring out positive changes in the brain (See, Goleman, 2002, 179-2004).

It is very encouraging to see that both in the area of scientific research and a number of therapeutic orientations in the west, there are clear indications of a journey beyond the Platonic metaphor of reason the charioteer and passions the unruly horses. These extensions to a therapy based on mindfulness practice may be seen in a number of apparently competing therapies. Jon Kabat-Zinn’s work on mindfulness meditation for pain control, both physical and emotional pain, has been a true breakthrough in the area of behavioural medicine: “Mindfulness allows us to see more clearly into the nature of our pain. Sometimes it helps us to cut through confusion, hurt feelings, and emotional turmoil caused perhaps by misperceptions or exaggerations and our desire that things be in a certain way” (Kabat-Zinn, 1990, 321). Also the focus on stimulus control, recognizing the “spark before the flame” before you attempt damage control, avoiding certain situations, de-conditioning, control of unwanted intrusive cognitions, modification of undesirable habits and such techniques of behaviour modification, using Buddhist resources have been tested over several years by Padmal de Silva  (Padmal de Silva, 1996, 217-31). The recent work, Mindfulness-Based Cognitive Therapy for Depression by Segal, Williams and Teesdale is another landmark in the development of Buddhist resources for therapy (Segal, Williams and Teasdale, 2002). Eric From’s posthumous publication, The Art of Listening and Mark Epstein’s Thought Without a Thinker present the therapeutic value of mindfulness from yet another direction. It is for these reasons that we mentioned that the western therapeutic traditions have gone far beyond Plato’s dominating metaphor of reason as the charioteer and the unruly horses as the passions.

However, there have been a few cracks and dents in the philosopher’s epistemological disdain for using therapeutic models for understanding emotions. John Cottingham in a recent study of reason and passion in the western philosophical tradition makes this observation: “It is only by giving up, in the first instance, our pretensions to rational control that we open the way for deeper, transformed, self-understanding”. He also says, “The first stage of this process of transformation is thus one of listening, rather than declaring, of waiting rather than controlling, of attending rather than commanding” (Cottingham, 1998        ). In making this statement, Cottingham is following the footsteps of one of the most insightful philosophers of our times, Iris Murdoch, who said, “I regard the (daily, hourly, minutely) attempted purification of consciousness as the central and fundamental arena of morality” (Murdoch, 1970). These reflections of Cottingham and Murdoch are important for developing a viable philosophical perspective in the west regarding the management of emotions. In fact, during recent times E.M.Adams a philosopher was baffled by Goleman’s attempt to integrate the concept of mindfulness practice to the concept of emotional intelligence (see, de Silva, 2002, 188-93).  In suspending the rational, analytic and dissecting mind for a while, we make room for listening with the right brain. In using the art of quiet listening to be aware of the emotional inroads of our own minds, we develop diminishing reactivity to raw sensory events, do not make automatic identifications with our reactions, develop openness, impartiality and flexibility (Epstein, 1995, 110-128). Lastly, the ground is prepared for “wise seeing”, a theme that we will pick up when we explore emotions in Buddhism, as a contemplative tradition.

It must be mentioned that the Buddha did use analytical, critical and even dialectical reasoning in his debates with philosophers. Also in the discourses to householders often he appealed to their reason but unless backed by a virtuous life and the practice of mindfulness, people will lack the stability, trust and confidence to deal with the chaos of their emotional lives. He also advocated the use of positive emotions as antidotes. In the Vitakkasanthana sutta (Discourse on the forms of thought, MI, Sutta 20), he mentions five methods for dealing with unwholesome thoughts which are best  used by the method of mindfulness or to some extent through the use of rational discourse. Unwholesome thoughts may be eliminated by using antidotes, looking at the peril of unwholesome thoughts, by a process of let go (asati amanasikara), by looking at the consequences and lastly by will power. In talking to the householders about understanding the consequences of anger the Buddha makes the following points: When a person is overwhelmed by anger and wrath he earns a bad reputation, loses his friends and his relations will shun him; anger clouds the mind and an angry person looses the skill to look at a issue in an impartial manner; after venting his anger on some one he may be scared of revenge and even be struck by remorse; once anger is aroused one is able to commit the worst of crimes; anger affects a person’s health and breakdown of family and leads to failure in his profession; patience, forgiveness and understanding are positive virtues.


Healing the Chasm Between Cognitive Theories 
and Arousal Theories of Emotion

Again if we make a glance through contemporary theories of emotion in philosophy and even psychology to some extent, they do not display the flexibility and the pragmatism found in the therapeutic traditions. The release of the recent book, Thinking and Feeling edited by Robert C.Solomon ( Solomon, 2004) brings the frontier lines of the above- mentioned debate up to date. John Deigh who has written the first chapter to this volume presents two conflicting programmes in psychology, one emerging from William James and the other from Sigmund Freud. He says, “Jame’s ideas are the sources of the view that one can fruitfully study emotions by studying the neurophysiological processes that occur with experience of them. He identified them with feelings.” (Deigh, 2004, 25).  He also says, “Though Freud often described emotions as flows of nervous energy, his view of them as transmitters of meaning and purpose was nonetheless implicit in his notion of an unconscious mind and the way he used this notion to make sense of feelings, behaviour, and physiological maladies that seems otherwise inexplicable” ( Deigh, 2004, 25). He concludes his paper by saying that “The main problem for the study of emotions is how to develop a theory that reconciles these two facts”.

If we make a quick glance through the different therapeutic approaches in the west mentioned above, that have integrated Buddhist techniques of mindfulness practice to their routine agenda and their writings, it is to be seen that the impending chasm between the rival programmes have been, to some extent healed. In fact, in the discussion that follows, we bring number of points, which may help us to develop a more flexible and holistic approach to bring the rival programmes together. This is of course a Buddhist perspective that we are developing, using resources in the discourses of the Buddha and Buddhist practice.

( 1) In the context of Buddhist theory and practice, there is a close linkage between the two questions, “What is an Emotion? ” and “How do we manage emotions?” It appears to be a strange point that Buddhist text do not have a word for emotions.  This puzzle receives the attention of the discussants in the dialogue on destructive emotions (Goleman, 2003, 158-159). It is mentioned in this discussion that it is difficult to find a Tibetan or Sanskrit word for “emotion”. Let us first look at the etymology of the term emotion. The term is derived from Latin, e+movere, which meant to move from place to place. It was also used for agitation, which meaning has been popularly associated with the word. As James Averill points out, the word passion was used for approximately two thousand years, and as the derivation from Greek pathos and Latin pati (to suffer) convey, emotions came to be associated with passivity (Averill, 1980, 380).  In ordinary discourse we speak of being “gripped” and “torn” by emotion. Not only is this experience of passivity an illusion, as Averill points out, if you realize that this passivity is an illusion, this helps us to widen the area of self-awareness and not abjure responsibility for the consequences of emotions. As we have pointed out in an early study elsewhere, the notion of intention, intentionality (aboutness), responsibility and the possibility of moral criticism clearly indicate that emotions cannot be reduced to passive feelings (de Silva, 1995). They also contain a great deal of complexity. If we locate emotions like jealousy, grief, pride and guilt in the setting of a narrative (see, Goldie, 2000, Nussbaum, 2002) their rich complexity is evident. In Buddhism, a ‘significant action’ on which praise or blame can be bestowed is an action done with an intention (cetana). Even if an action is done automatically and impulsively or on the contrary as deliberate action, both these facets contain ‘intentions’ and are subject to moral criticism. There are other important features like the appropriateness, consequences, the manner in which it is done and the grades and types of consciousness that generate the action. When we look at the profile of an emotion in Buddhism the importance this analysis with a focus on intention may be evident. (Averill, 1980, 380).

An emotion in the context of Buddhism is a construction, an interactive complex or a construct emerging within a causal network. The best way to understand this complex is to first look at the five aggregates (khanda), which go to make up what we conventionally refer to as a person. Bhikkhu Bodhi says that as a meditator’s mindfulness becomes sharper and clearer, “the meditator learns to distinguish the five aggregates: matter or physical form (rupa); feeling (vedana) the affective tone of experience, either pleasant, painful or neutral; perception (sanna), the factor responsible for noting, distinguishing and recognition; volitional (sankhara), the intentional aspect of mental activity; and consciousness (vinnana), the basic awareness operating through the senses “ (Bodhi,1999, 27). The meditator discerns the marks of impermanence, suffering and non-self as characteristics of the aggregates. Thus within the five aggregates we discern the three dimensions of the cognitive, affective and conative or volitional facets of human consciousness. Now it is necessary to see the role of vedana in the construction of an emotion like anger or fear. Nyanaponika Thera clearly says in a comprehensive study of the contemplation of feeling as found in the vedana-samyutta, “It should be first made clear that, in Buddhist psychology, ‘feeling’ (Pali:vedana) is the bare sensation noted as pleasant, unpleasant (painful) and neutral (indifferent). Hence it should not be confused with emotion which, though arising from the basic feeling, adds to it likes or dislikes of varying intensity, as well as other thought processes” (Nyanaponika, 1983, 7). In more detail, it may be said that emotions emerge as a joint product of perceptions, feelings, desires, beliefs, appraisals and physiological arousal. Cultural and social filters have an impact on the experience of emotions and most of the emotions are related to interpersonal interaction. Out of the five factors cited above under the aggregates, the concept of sankhara provides a framework for placing the operative factors together.

This point is well confirmed by Nyanaponika who says “The specific factors operative in emotion belong to the aggregate of formations (sankhara-kkhanda). Feeling is one of the four mental aggregates which arise, inseparably, in all states of consciousness; the other three are perception, mental formations, and consciousness” (Nyanaponika, 1983, 7).

It must be mentioned that the term emotion covers a very broad range of emotions and they are not all alike. Some of the conflicting theories of emotions are often cast on certain selected emotions. In general, it is necessary to use a very holistic concept of emotions and contextualise discussions about emotions. In the Buddhist analysis of emotions weightage to both cognitive factors and physiological arousal is given.

(2) There is another reason why Buddhism facilitates the development of a holistic theory of emotions. This is the Buddhist perspective on the mind-body relationship. (i) The Buddha discourages people to push to the utter logical limits and engage in metaphysical wrangles about the relationship between the mind and the body, as in context of this sort, the Buddha has left it as an undetermined question. (ii) But he uses a contextual approach to refer to he mind body relationship. In accepting a reciprocal relationship between the mind and body, the Buddha did not accept any dualism or monism. There is also no place for reductive theories like epiphenomenalism. The body-mind relationship is compared to two bundles of reeds, one supporting the other (S II, 114). (iii). In the context of meditation, the Buddha adopts an anti-ontologising perspective, and considers the terms, ‘mind’ and ‘body’ as designations. And thus the phenomenal nature of experience is seen. This is the experiential context. (iv) In certain contexts the body is considered as a trap that obstructs liberation and mindfulness of the body helps us to nip passions at the bud. (v) When the Buddha discourages extreme asceticism and its mattered hair and starvation, he is advocating mind-body health, composure and sensibility of the body.

Thus in accepting that there can be feedback mechanisms by which the body can affect the mind and the mind can affect the body, Buddhism is able to bridge the chasm between cognitive theories of emotions and arousal theories of emotions.
We have already cited the convergence of different (or even competing) therapeutic approaches which use mindfulness practice; the textual basis for a holistic concept of an emotion and lastly the Buddhist contextual approach to the mind-body issue.  The Buddha was also critical of strong attachment to fixed views and even compared the dhamma to a raft that is used for crossing a river. It is a perspective that helps practice. Lastly, the meditation practices as well as the practice of morality advocated by the Buddha helps the practitioner to deal with different components of negative emotions.  The following passage describes the dynamic setting for the emergence of emotions:

Thus it is Ananda, craving comes into being because of feeling, pursuit because of craving, gain because of pursuit, decision because of gain, desire and passion (chandaraga) because of decision, tenacity because of desire and passion, possession because of tenacity, avarice because of possession, watch and ward because of avarice, and many a bad and wicked state of things arising from keeping watch and ward over possessions” (Gradual Sayings, II, 58).

(3)  In the above section on “The domination of a Metaphor”, we have shown very clearly how at the level of the applications of therapy using mindfulness techniques, different therapeutic orientations have come together. They steer clear through the debate on cognitive and arousal theories of emotions.   If we look at the structure of the Buddhist charter for meditation, the satipatthana, the four foundations for mindfulness practice cover different facets that go to make an emotion: the body (kaya), feelings (vedana), states of the mind (citta) and the psycho-physical complex (dharma). In fact states of mind are complex states emerging out of feeling like fear, doubt, restlessness and apathy. The fourth section has number of entries like the five hindrances and the seven factors of enlightenment. But the most central is the inclusion of the attachment to the psychophysical complex or the idea of the self. The idea of the self plays a central role in the inter-play of emotions (see, de Silva, 1994, 297-317).

We shall conclude this section with the Buddha’s advice to the monks not to debate about the efficacy of competing methods but practice what comes naturally to a person. On a certain day, when the Buddha was at the Jeta Grove, Venerable Sariputta asked a question about three types of practitioners seeking liberation from suffering:  
(i) One whose faculty of faith (saddha) is developed ; (ii) one whose skill in the concentration on the body is developed; (iii) One whose faculty of insight was developed. Venerable Savittha tended to think that the first type of monk would reach the goal first, Venerable Kotthita backed the second type and Venerable Sariputta thought that the surest was the third. In my own attempt to make this issue intelligible, I thought it looked like some one asking me, who will get to the wining post first? The athlete who has lots of stamina, the one who has very good harmony of speed and movement and a third who has over the years collected the practical insights of doing the half mile. The following is the Buddha’s analysis:

i. It may be that the person who is released by faith is on the path to be an arahant, that the one who has testified to the truth with the body is a once-returner or a non-returner, and the one who has won view through insight is also a once returner or non-returner.
                     

ii.It may be that the person who has testified to the truth with the body is on the path to be an arahant, that the other two are once-returners or non-returners.

iii. It may again be that the person who has gained a view through insight is on the path to be an arahant, and the other two are once-returners or non-returners. 

(4) Lastly, the philosophy of William James has accepted the twin concepts of the importance of attention and will and this falls in line with the Buddha’s critique of theories of determinism and indeterminism. A recent reference to the importance of these concepts in James presents the point in a very effective manner: “Given James’s strong philosophical bent, it’s hardly surprising these twin concepts, attention and will, were of such tremendous importance to him. He was well aware, especially given his given his goal of placing psychology squarely within natural science, that thickets of controversy awaited any one willing to tackle the question of free will. But on the key point of the efficacy of attention, and its relation to will, James held fast to his belief- one he suspected could not be proved conclusively on scientific grounds, but to one which he clung tenaciously on ethical grounds—that the effort to focus attention is an active, primary causal force, and not solely the properties of a stimulus that acts on a passive brain (Schwartz and Begley, 2002, 326; Also see, James, 1992, 272, 278). In Psychology A Brief Course, James develops the point mentioned earlier, whole drama of voluntary life hinges on the amount of attention which rival motor ideas may receive (James, 1992).

In the light of all these points, Buddhism has resources to heal the chasm between cognitive theories and arousal theories of emotion.

                            PART II

Emotions in a Contemplative Tradition

In the first part of this paper, we have focused the attention of the readers on the claim that Buddhist meditation practice and theory have created a new perspective in looking at emotions and the wise management of emotions in the west. We have specially looked at the veritable revolution created in western therapeutic orientations by the integration of mindfulness practice and also directed attention on the interface between recent developments in cognitive science and neuroscience against the background of Buddhist philosophy of mind.

But there is an important issue that we need to raise regarding the difference between Buddhism as a contemplative tradition directed towards the liberation from suffering, and Buddhism as a form of therapy. In a sense, the Buddha was the physician par excellence and the fourfold noble truths offer analogies to the diagnosis and remedial action for a disease in medicine. But there have been words of caution, “we must be able to distinguish the two and know how and when to use each one” (Finister, 2004, 50). Coltart observes, “there are many more extensive and subtle ways in which they flow in and out of each other, and are mutually reinforcing and clarifying” (Coltart, 2004, 44). Mark Epstein’s piece of writing entitled, “Remembering, Repeating and Working Through” is an excellent product of the interaction between Buddhism and therapy (Epstein, 1995, 159-222).

One way of developing a new dialogue between Buddhism as a philosophy of liberation and Buddhism as a therapy is to develop interest in the diaries and notes of contemplatives – personal narratives reminiscent of William James’s Variety of Religious Experience. Keith Oatley and Maja Djikic have presented us a fascinating account of this work with a focus on emotions and identity (Oatley and Djikic, 2002, 97-116. It is remarkable that during one lifetime, James was able to enter the world of emotions, first through the sensations of the body and then through the variety of religious experience. They conclude the article by saying that the main hypothesis of James in this work is that “Identity is inescapably emotional. Each of us has a center, perhaps of anxiety, perhaps of anger, perhaps (as in James’s example of saintliness) of love of God or human kind” (Oatley and Djikic, 2002,113). The reason why the center is emotional is that emotions are our principal motivators. Emotion can also succeed each other as the plot of a story. Oatley and Djikic observes in the concluding section that though the ideas of saintliness discussed by James may be somewhat anachronistic, the question how people born with a high proclivity towards self-interest might be touched by the fate of others is a theme for our times. Our study of grief and compassion that follows is a contribution in this direction on emotions and identity.

The claim that emotions have an epistemic, cognitive and hermeneutic role in directing us to the truths of the human condition, like impermanence, suffering and non-self is an important point for reflection. There has been a misunderstanding that 
Buddhism advocates the “cutting off of the passions” and that there has been a detachment from the affective side of life. The need to open us to inner experience, our recurring thought patterns and our somatic expressions without denial, closure and repression takes a central place in Buddhism. In the first sermon, Setting the wheel in Motion, the Buddha is not asking us to get rid of suffering but to make it a subject for reflection and contemplation. It is an awakening to the truth and not a validation of the first noble truth that is necessary. By opening ourselves to our anger, fear and boredom, we transform them in to subjects for contemplation (dhammanupassana).

Emotions have important epistemic qualities in the Buddhist context. Emotions direct our attention to significant events in the outer world and it is possible to convert a challenging experience like loss of some one dear and near to us, into an experience of insight. Such insights help us to free from the entrapment of distorting cognitive structures (ditthi). Buddhist contemplative reflections help us to reduce the verbal –analytic activities of the left brain and develop the non-verbal, creative and holistic stances of the right brain.

We are in the process of narrating a story about grief with a Buddhist background. During recent times, the release of Martha Nussbaum’s work on emotions as “upheavals of thought” against the background of the immense grief triggered by her mother’s death, has brought the theme of grief to the center of philosophical reflections. She first directs our attention to the urgency and heat of emotions, their tendency to take over the personality, their connection with important attachments and the person’s sense of passivity before them and their adversarial reaction to rationality ( Nussbaum, 2001, 22). She also says that in spite of these features, emotions are suffused with intelligence and discernment, and emotions like grief can be a source of deep awareness and understanding. It is an excellent contribution to contemporary emotion studies. While we share these thoughts, we bring a new dimension for understanding the emotion of grief from the contemplative dimensions of Buddhism, the Buddhist meditative life and its social ethic. We also do not attempt to develop a theory of emotions as she does, in developing a theory of emotions as appraisals of value, as our perspective on a holistic conception of emotions has already been presented. We are also grateful to Robert C.Solomon for granting permission to refer to his recent paper on grief, to be released soon, by the Oxford University Press (Solomon, 2004). We have found his reference to the reflective quality of grief and its dedicatory quality, striking a kindred note with our own reflections on grief. But here again we follow our own intuitions. It is time that philosophers and psychologists looked more closely at emotion profiles, especially grief and sadness, covetousness and greed, boredom and slothfulness, restlessness and worry, jealousy and conceit. This is one way of diffusing the battle lines on theory.
 
                                               
  






                                            






















































Working with emotions

Working with emotions


Working with emotions


by Venerable Thubten Chodron on Jun 18, 2011 in Fear Anxiety and Other Emotions

People worldwide want to know how to work with their emotions—how to prevent being overwhelmed by painful ones and how to enrich the wholesome and loving ones. As a young person, I had no idea how to do this, and it was Buddhism’s perspective on this that first attracted me. So I will begin with my journey leading to the Buddha’s teachings, continue with the methods the Buddha recommended to work with emotions, and conclude with a few observations about the future of Buddhism.

I came to Buddhism rather unexpectedly, or so it may seem. As a child, I was curious about religion, and as a teenager, my mind teemed with spiritual questions: “Why am I alive? What is the purpose of life? What happens after death? Why do people fight and kill each other if they want to live in peace? What does it mean to love others?” Growing up in a reform Jewish family in a predominantly Christian suburb in the USA, I asked my teachers and the religious leaders around me. The answers that satisfied them nevertheless left me dry.

Studying history at university, I came to learn that almost every generation, for hundreds of years, wars were fought in Europe in the name of God. Disillusionment with organized religion overcame me, for wasn’t religion supposed to make people more peaceful and harmonious? In reaction, as a young person in the sixties, I took part in some of the social protests of the times, as well as turned to the various distractions offered to my generation.

I graduated Phi Beta Kappa from UCLA and, after working for a year, traveled in Europe, North Africa, the Middle East, and Asia. I wanted to learn about life through experiencing it instead of reading about it. After a year and a half, I had learned a lot, but still lacked understanding of the meaning of life. Nevertheless, feeling that the purpose of life must have to do with benefiting others, I returned to the USA, taught elementary school in Los Angeles, and pursued graduate studies in Education at USC.

One summer vacation, I saw a flyer about a meditation course taught by two Tibetan monks, Lama Thubten Yeshe and Zopa Rinpoche. One of the first things they said at the course was, "You don’t have to believe anything we say. You are intelligent people. Listen to the teachings; think about them logically; test them out in your own life experience. Use the teachings that help you in your life and leave those that don’t make sense on the back burner."

"Whew," I thought. "Now I’ll listen." If they had said they would tell us the Truth, I would have left. I liked Buddhism’s open-minded approach and began to listen and to practice the teachings. As I did, I was surprised to find that what the Buddha taught over twenty-five centuries ago in ancient India applied to my modern American life. I wanted to learn more.

During a retreat after the course, I realized that if I neglected this opportunity to learn the Dharma—the Buddha’s teachings—I would regret it at the end of my life, and dying with regret never appealed to me. Thus, instead of resuming my teaching post that autumn, I went to Kopan Monastery, Lama and Rinpoche’s monastery outside Kathmandu, Nepal. My parents were hardly thrilled about their daughter once again putting on a backpack to visit a third-world country. But for me, the spiritual urge was strong, and I had to follow it.

Once there I attended the teachings that the lamas gave in broken English to the variety of Western travelers passing through Nepal in the mid-seventies. In addition, I reflected on them, practiced them as best I could, and participated in the community life at Kopan. After some months, I decided I wanted to become a nun. Why? I wanted to focus my life on spiritual development and knew that to do this effectively, I needed to direct my energies. Living in vows provided that conducive lifestyle. In addition, as I reflected on the vows, I saw that I really didn’t want to do the things they proscribed. Thus the vows were a protection against acting upon my attachment, anger, and ignorance—emotions and attitudes that Buddhism sees as the origin of our suffering and unsatisfactory state. In addition, the vows helped me to clarify my ethical values and to live by them.

I requested Lama Yeshe for permission to ordain. He said yes, but asked me to wait. This waiting period, which lasted nearly a year and a half, was wise, for it helped me become clear about my motivation. I also had to face the questions and challenges posed by my family and friends, which strengthened my motivation. In the spring of 1977, in Dharamsala, India, I was ordained by Kyabje Ling Rinpoche, the senior tutor of His Holiness the Dalai Lama.
Our mind is the source of happiness and suffering

What attracted me to Buddhism? I was taken by its ideas, perspectives, views, and practices. In particular, the Buddha’s teachings on how to work with emotions—how to subdue disturbing emotions and enhance positive ones—provided both a logical framework and practical techniques with which I could work. What, then, is the Buddha’s perspective on emotions?


Each of us wants to be happy and to avoid suffering. Our mind—specifically its attitudes, views, and emotions—are the primary factors contributing to our experience of happiness and pain.

Each of us wants to be happy and to avoid suffering. From a Buddhist viewpoint, our mind—specifically its attitudes, views, and emotions—are the primary factors contributing to our experience of happiness and pain. This view flies in the face of our usual perception of things. For example, most of us instinctively feel that happiness is "out there" in an external person, place, or object. We think, "If I only lived in this house … had this career … married that person … moved to that place … bought this car, I’d be happy." We are taught to be good consumers—not just of possessions, but of people, ideas, spirituality, and everything else as well—in our search for happiness. However, no matter what we have or how much we have, we are perpetually dissatisfied.

Similarly, we feel that our problems have been thrust upon us from outside. "I have difficulties because my parents yelled at me, my boss is inconsistent, my children don’t listen to me, the government is corrupt, others are selfish." Thus we devise wonderful advice for others to follow and believe that if they only did what we suggested, not only would our problems cease, but also the world would be a better place. Unfortunately, when we tell other people how they should change so that we can be happy, they don’t appreciate our sagacious advice and instead tell us to mind our own business!

This innate world view that happiness and suffering come from external sources leads us to believe that if we could only make others and the world be what we wanted them to be, then we would be happy. Thus, we endeavor to rearrange the world and the people in it, gathering towards us those we consider happiness-producing and struggling to be free from those we think cause pain. Although we have tried to do this, no one has succeeded in making the external environment exactly what he or she wants it to be. Even in those occasional situations in which we are able to arrange external people and things to be what we want, they don’t remain that way for long. Or, they aren’t as good as we thought they would be and we are left feeling disappointed and disillusioned. In effect, the supposed path to happiness through external things and people is doomed from the start because no matter how powerful, wealthy, popular, or respected someone is, he or she is unable to control all external conditions.

This supposed path to happiness is also doomed because even if we could control external factors, we still would not be fulfilled and satisfied. Why? Because the source of true happiness lies in our mind and heart, not in possessions, others’ actions, praise, reputation, and so forth. But we must examine this for ourselves, so the Buddha asked us to observe our own experiences to see what causes happiness and what causes misery.

For example, we have all had the experience of waking up on the wrong side of the bed. Nothing in particular happened to cause us to be in a bad mood; we simply feel lousy. But, interestingly, just on those days we feel grumpy, we encounter so many uncooperative and rude people. Just on the day we want to be left alone, so many obnoxious people descend upon us! Suddenly, the way our spouse smiles appears sarcastic, and our colleague’s "Good morning" seems manipulative. Even our pet dog no longer seems to love us! When our boss remarks on our work, we take offense. When our friend reminds us to do something, we accuse him of being controlling. When someone turns in front of us on the road, it feels they are deliberately provoking us.

On the other hand, when we are in a good mood, even if our colleague gives us some negative criticism on a project, we can put it in perspective. When our professor asks us to redo a paper, we understand her reasons. When a friend tells us that he was offended by our words, we calmly explain ourselves and clear up the misunderstanding.

That our interpretations of events and responses to them change according to our mood says something important, doesn’t it? It indicates that we are not innocent people experiencing an objectively real external world. Rather, our moods, perspectives, and views play a role in our experiences. The environment and the people in it aren’t objective entities that exist from their own side as this or that. Instead, together with them, our mind co-creates our experiences. Thus, if we want to be happy and to avoid suffering, we need to subdue our unrealistic and non-beneficial emotions and perspectives and enhance our positive ones.
Working with emotions

Let’s look at some of the methods the Buddha prescribed to transform specific emotions. Reflection on impermanence and the unpleasant aspect of a person or thing counteracts attachment. Cultivating patience and love opposes anger, and wisdom demolishes ignorance. Thinking about a difficult topic or reflecting that all we know and have comes from others eliminates pride. Rejoicing prevents jealousy. Following the breath diminishes doubt. Contemplating our precious human life dispels depression, while meditating on compassion counteracts low self-esteem.
Reflection on impermanence and unpleasant aspects counteracts attachment

When our mind is under the influence of attachment, we cling to people, things, or circumstances, thinking that they have the power to bring us happiness. However, since these things are transient—their very nature is to change moment by moment—they are not safe objects to rely on for long-term happiness. When we remember that our possessions do not last forever and our money does not go on to the next life with us, then the false expectations we project upon them evaporate, and we are able to cultivate a healthy relationship with them. If we contemplate that we cannot always remain with our friends and relatives, we will appreciate them more while we are together and be more accepting of our eventual separation.

Contemplating the unpleasant aspect of things we are attached to also cuts false expectation and enables us to have a more balanced attitude towards them. For example, when we have a car, we will definitely have car trouble. Therefore, no benefit comes from getting too excited about having a new car, and no great catastrophe has occurred if we can’t get a car. If we have a relationship, we will undoubtedly have relationship problems. When we first fall in love, we believe that the other person will be everything we want. This skewed view sets us up for suffering when we realize that he or she isn’t. In fact, no one can be everything we want because we are not consistent in what we want! This simple process of being more realistic cuts attachment, enabling us to actually have more enjoyment.
Cultivating patience and love opposes anger

Having exaggerated certain negative aspects of a person, thing, idea, or place, we become angry and unable to bear it. We want either to harm what we think is causing our unhappiness or to escape from it. Patience is the ability to bear harm or suffering. With it, our mind is calm, and we have the mental clarity to figure out a reasonable solution to the difficulty. One way to cultivate patience is by seeing the disturbing circumstance as an opportunity to grow. In this way, instead of focusing on what we don’t like, we look inside and develop our resources and talents to be able to deal with it.

Seeing the situation from the other’s perspective also facilitates patience. We ask ourselves, "What are this person’s needs and concerns? How does she see the situation?" In addition, we can ask ourselves what our buttons are. Instead of blaming the other person for pushing our buttons, we can work to free ourselves from those buttons and sensitive points so that they cannot be pushed again.

Cultivating love—the wish for sentient beings, including ourselves, to have happiness and its causes—prevents as well as counteracts anger. We may wonder, "Why should we wish those who have harmed us to be happy? Shouldn’t they be punished for their wrongdoing?" People harm others because they are unhappy. If they were happy, they would not be doing whatever it is that we found objectionable, because people don’t hurt others when they are content. Instead of seeking punishment or retaliation for harms done to us, let’s wish others to be happy and thus free from whatever internal or external conditions precipitate their negative actions.

We cannot tell ourselves we must love someone; rather we must actively cultivate this emotion. For example, sitting quietly, we begin by thinking and then feeling, "May I be well and happy." We spread this thought and feeling to dear ones, then to strangers, and to people we find disagreeable, threatening, or disgusting, and say again and again to ourselves "May they be well and happy." Finally, we open our heart and wish happiness and its causes to all living beings everywhere.
Thinking about complex topics and recognizing our indebtedness to others eliminates pride

When we are proud, we cannot learn or develop new good qualities because we falsely believe we have attained all there is. When a Buddhist student becomes arrogant about his scholarship or practice, his teacher often instructs him to meditate on the twelve sources and eighteen elements. "What are those?" people ask. That’s the point—just hearing the names, let alone understanding their meaning, makes us realize we have a lot to learn and thus dispels arrogance.

When we are proud, we have a strong feeling of self, as if whatever qualities we are proud about are inherently ours. Reflecting that everything we know and have has come from others quickly dispels this arrogance. Any abilities due to genetics came from our ancestors; our knowledge came from our teachers. Even our artistic, musical, or athletic abilities would not have surfaced had it not been due to the kindness of parents and teachers who encouraged and taught us. Our socio-economic status is due to others who gave us money. Even if they gave it to us in the form of a paycheck, it was not ours to begin with. Our education came from others. Even our ability to tie our shoes came from those who taught us. Looking at our lives in this way, we are indebted to others’ kindness. We have much to be grateful for and nothing to be arrogant about.
Rejoicing dispels jealousy

The jealous mind cannot endure the happiness of others and wishes that happiness for ourselves. Although we want to be happy, jealousy itself is a painful emotion, and we are miserable when we are under its influence. Rejoicing, on the other hand, celebrates goodness. We always say, "May everyone be happy," so when someone is, we might as well rejoice in it, especially if we didn’t even have to make any effort to bring it about.

We may start by rejoicing in the happiness we already have, enabling us to realize that we are not completely bereft of joy even though we may not have what we want at the time. Then we focus on others’ goodness and happiness and rejoice in them. While this initially may seem uncomfortable due to the force of the jealousy, if we persist in recounting the goodness and happiness of others, our mind will, in time, become joyful. "Isn’t it wonderful that Susan excels in sports? How great that Peter was promoted and that Karen got a new car! Bill and Barbara have a caring relationship; I’m happy for them. Jane’s meditations are going well, and Sam has a lot of contact with his spiritual mentor. That’s great."

Thinking positive thoughts in this way automatically makes our mind happy. It shifts our perspective from focusing on what we don’t have to the richness in the world.
Following the breath diminishes doubt and anxiety

When our mind is turbulent, spinning in doubt or anxiously imagining worst-case scenarios, the Buddha recommended that we focus our attention on the breath. Sitting comfortably, we breathe normally and naturally. We place our attention either at the nostrils, feeling the touch of the breath on our upper lip and in the nostrils as it passes in and out, or at the belly, being aware of the rise and fall of our abdomen as we inhale and exhale. Should our attention shift to the doubts and anxious thoughts, we recognize this and then patiently but firmly bring our focus back to the breath. By doing this continuously, the runaway thoughts begin to calm down, and the mind becomes clear and calm.
Contemplating our precious human life dispels depression

Often we take our opportunities and fortune for granted and focus on what we lack instead. This is tantamount to ignoring all the delicious food in a large buffet and complaining, "There is no spaghetti." Instead of becoming depressed because we are ill, we can remember that we are also fortunate to have others who help us when we don’t feel well. Even if they don’t help us as much as we would like, they still are there for us, and we would be hard put if they weren’t. Something is always going well in our lives, and it’s important to remember those things that are.

In addition, we have human intelligence and the opportunity to encounter a spiritual path. This opportunity in itself is cause for great rejoicing. No matter if we are sick, lonely, imprisoned, or going through hard times financially, we still can take refuge in the Three Jewels—the Buddhas, Dharma, and Sangha. We can practice our spiritual tradition no matter where we are, who we’re with, or what the state of our physical body, for genuine spiritual practice does not depend on certain external implements or actions but involves redirecting our mind towards constructive emotions and realistic attitudes. Thus for as long as we are alive, we can be happy about what is going right in our lives and at the opportunities we have for spiritual practice. Even when it comes time to die, we can rejoice at a life well-spent and dedicate all the goodness we created for the benefit of all sentient beings.
Meditating on compassion and on our Buddha nature counteracts guilt and low self-esteem

When we suffer from guilt and low self-esteem, we put all attention on ourselves. There is little space in our mind for thoughts of others, and everything related to ourselves is overblown. Guilt is an inverted feeling of self-importance: "I’m the worst one in the world, unforgivable," or "I’m so powerful that I can make all these things go wrong." This is totally unrealistic!

Compassion is the wish for sentient beings, including ourselves, to be free of suffering and its causes. Meditating on it works in two ways. First, we think, "I am a sentient being, worthy of happiness and freedom from pain, just like everyone else. I have the Buddha nature—the underlying purity of mind—just as all living beings do. Therefore, I can wish myself to be happy and to be free of suffering, and I know that these are achievable goals because the basic nature of my mind and heart are pure. The clouds that cover them can be dispelled." Thinking in this way helps overcome depression.

In addition, spreading our love and compassion out to others alleviates the pain of the self-preoccupation lying behind guilt and low self-esteem. By taking the focus off of ourselves, compassion enables us to realize that everyone is in the same position. Thinking of others and reaching out to them pulls us out of the isolation of guilt and low self-esteem.
Wisdom demolishes ignorance

From a Buddhist perspective the ignorance misapprehending the nature of reality is the root of all other disturbing attitudes and negative emotions. To dispel it, we cultivate wisdom, which is of three types: the wisdoms of learning, thinking, and meditating. First we must learn from qualified teachers, either by listening to talks or reading books. Then we think about what we have learned, examining it thoroughly to test it logically and to make sure we have understood it properly. Finally, we integrate the meanings of the teachings into our lives through meditation and continuous practice.

For example, we listen to teachings on profound reality, the emptiness of inherent existence. We read about and study these concepts, and then discuss them with our friends as well as think about them ourselves. When our understanding is correct and refined, we then familiarize ourselves with emptiness in meditation, first by investigating the nature of reality and then by focusing single-pointedly on it. When we arise from meditation, we try to hold this newfound meaning in mind as we go about our daily life’s activities, so that this wisdom will be integrated into our mind and life.

Since all the other disturbing attitudes and negative emotions are rooted in the ignorance misapprehending reality, developing this wisdom is a general antidote to all of these. However, since cultivating the correct view is difficult, takes time, and requires effort, we practice the antidotes explained above, which are unique to each particular emotion. By pacifying these emotions even a little, our mind becomes clearer and more tranquil, which makes the development of wisdom easier. For this reason, we learn not only the specific methods to counteract each disturbing attitude, but also wisdom as the antidote to all of them.
Our responsibility

Subduing and transforming our mind is a process we alone must do. While we can pay someone to clean our house or fix our car, hiring someone to get rid of our negative emotions doesn’t work. I can’t ask you to sleep late so that I’ll feel refreshed or to eat so my hunger will go away. Just as we must sleep and eat ourselves to experience their benefits, we must practice ourselves in order to let go of our harmful emotions and to nourish our constructive ones.

The Buddha’s teachings explain many techniques for subduing our disturbing emotions and for cultivating positive ones. Just learning these techniques does not transform us. Reading a book with instructions on how to type does not give us the ability to sit down at a computer and type perfectly. We need to practice and train ourselves. In the same way, we must reflect on the techniques taught by the Buddha and then practice them consistently over a long period of time. The Tibetan word for meditation, gom, has the same root as the word meaning "to familiarize." Familiarization takes place with effort and over time. Similarly, we say we "practice the Dharma," meaning we train ourselves in certain attitudes and emotions over and over again. In short, there is no shortcut for transforming our mind.

However, since the disturbing attitudes and negative emotions are not the very nature of our mind and because they are based on misconceptions, they can be eliminated through cultivating realistic views and constructive emotions. Our mind and heart are a stable base for this transformation, and if we cultivate wisdom and compassion over time, they will increase infinitely. It is our responsibility, for our own as well as for others’ happiness, that we engage in the practice to do so.
Future prospects for Buddhism

Over a period of many centuries Buddhism spread throughout Asia. Now, with modern transportation and communication facilities, it is quickly coming to Western nations. Nevertheless, it faces many challenges both in Asia and in the West.

In Asia, Buddhism is widely accepted, but not widely practiced among its adherents. In some places people have neglected to learn the meaning of the ceremonies and rituals. In others the religious hierarchy could be re-invigorated by broadening educational opportunities for nuns and laypeople. Buddhist institutions need to be more engaged in helping society.

In the West, Buddhism risks becoming another consumer good, tailored in order to suit the tastes of the public. The Buddha’s teachings have always been a challenge to society and to our egos. We must be careful not to dilute their essential power in the name of spreading them to more people. In addition, we must abandon our hidden wishes for an "instant fix" and be prepared and happy to practice for a long time. His Holiness the Dalai Lama says that one of the biggest hindrances for Westerners is the expectation to gain realizations quickly and easily. This attitude makes some people give up practice when their fanciful ideas are not actualized.

While Buddhism has much to offer in Asia and the rest of the world, the extent to which it is able to do so depends on the quality of its practitioners and teachers. Thus we must try to improve our own learning and practice as well as support others who are doing so. As individuals and as Buddhist institutions, we must take personal responsibility, create and maintain harmony, and look out for the common good.

Related Posts:
Working in a jail
A Buddhist nun in high school
Reviews of “Working with Anger”
The Mind and Life III Conference: Emotions and health
The Mind and Life VIII conference: Destructive emotions
Ruminating
Building courage and compassion
Disappointment and delight—the eight worldly concerns



About Venerable Thubten ChodronVenerable Chodron emphasizes the practical application of Buddha’s teachings in our daily lives and is especially skilled at explaining them in ways easily understood and practiced by Westerners. She is well known for her warm, humorous, and lucid teachings. She was ordained as a Buddhist nun in 1977 by Kyabje Ling Rinpoche in Dharamsala, India, and in 1986 she received bhikshuni (full) ordination in Taiwan. Read her full bio.
View all posts by Venerable Thubten Chodron →

How to Work with Emotions - Lion's Roar

How to Work with Emotions - Lion's Roar

How to Work with Emotions
BY POLLY YOUNG-EISENDRATH, SHARON SALZBERG, JUDITH SIMMER-BROWN, JOHN TARRANT AND DZOGCHEN PONLOP RINPOCHE| APRIL 25, 2019


Sharon Salzberg, Judith Simmer-Brown, John Tarrant, and Dzogchen Ponlop Rinpoche discuss skillful and unskillful involvement with emotions, offering new perspectives on how to think about and engage with our emotional lives. Originally published in the Summer 2008 issue of Buddhadharma: The Practitioner’s Quarterly.
Woman with long hair surrounded by galaxy
Photos by Cecilia Lee.

Many of us were originally attracted to the dharma, perhaps initially to meditation, because we had problems with our emotions or emotional problems. After practicing Buddhism over time, however, some of us feel that we still have emotional difficulties—sudden outbursts, emotional withdrawal, or a critical judgment of our emotionality—that we hadn’t expected would continue after some skill in practice. A number of books have been written to address these issues. Among them are Harvey Aronson’s Buddhist Practice on Western Ground (Shambhala, 2004) and Dan Goleman’s Destructive Emotions (Bantam, 2004). Still, much confusion remains about the relationship between the dharma and our emotional lives.

In the past couple of decades, as we have studied human emotions through the lenses of neuroscience, psychology, and psychotherapy, we have clarified more fully how and why our emotions present special challenges in our relationships with others and ourselves. The early founders of psychoanalysis, especially Sigmund Freud and Carl Jung, witnessed the fact that emotional dynamics from our early lives shaped habit patterns in our minds and hearts with strong staying power. Freud dubbed this power a “repetition compulsion,” and Jung called it an “autonomous complex.” Both described how certain fundamental emotional patterns, when triggered in adults or children, can set the stage for an entire drama played out within or between people (with ready-made scripts).

Contemporary neuroscience now recognizes that the limbic brain (the mid-brain, between the frontal cortex and the brain stem) is the seat of fight-flight reactivity and many aspects of unconscious emotional memory. This part of our brain contains powerful motivators to perceive and to act, driving us to react in certain ways that may fall outside of our awareness until we have acted them out. For example, brain researcher Joseph LeDoux, in his book The Emotional Brain, explains that memories triggering the flight-fight response “are rigidly coupled to specific kinds of responses … wired so as to preempt the need for thinking about what to do.” In our families, close relationships, and work environments, this kind of triggering can cause impulsive discharges of emotional reactions or non-communicative walling off of our reactions. Neither of these is a mindful response. In the lively discussion that follows, the participants give clear and detailed examples of their own emotional development through applying the wisdom of the dharma. –Polly Young-Eisendrath

 

Buddhadharma: Many of us think of emotion as the most important part of life, the thing that makes us human. Whether it’s love or beauty or pleasure, much of life is a search for particular emotional experiences. When people hear about things like nonattachment and mindfulness, they may fear they’ll have to give up their emotional life. Yet they also want to be free from the painful grip of emotion. What happens to our emotional life when we fully take up the Buddhist path?

The Dzogchen Ponlop Rinpoche: I wouldn’t say that losing our emotions or thoughts is something we need to worry about. When we meditate, they’re still there. They don’t go away. We couldn’t lose them, even if we wanted to [laughter].

Sharon Salzberg: I’m reminded of something that Ajahn Chah, the Thai meditation master, said: “As you meditate, your mind will get quieter and quieter, like a still forest pool. Many wonderful and rare animals will come to drink at the pool, but you will be still. This is the happiness of the Buddha.”

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Can we find a place in the middle, where one is neither overcome by emotion nor repressing emotional states? That is a place of discovery, exploration, and enrichment.
—Sharon Salzberg
I love the image of the wonderful and rare animals. The stillness is not a constraint; it’s not holding down or repressing any experience. Everything still arrives, but what makes the difference is how all of those wonderful and rare animals are greeted.

I know that people have a fear that meditation will lead to a kind of barrenness. I hear it often. People think that if they were to practice meditation ardently and get proficient at it, everything would morph into a gray blob and they wouldn’t feel anything anymore. Of course, that’s not what it’s all about. Intention and motivation are what’s vital. Why do we act the way we do and how do we relate to those emotions? Are we subsumed by them? Are we overcome? Are we propelled into actions that we later regret? Do we try to hide emotions or do we denigrate ourselves for our emotions?

So can we find a place in the middle, where one is neither overcome by emotion, which often leads to negative actions and consequences, nor repressing and avoiding our emotional states? That place in the middle, which is mindfulness, is a place of discovery, exploration, and enrichment.

Buddhadharma: Would you say the full range of emotion, from rage to passion, is included? Do all the animals in the zoo arrive?

Sharon Salzberg: [Laughs] By practicing mindfulness, we are also changing the conditions that will affect what might arise. But I don’t think it would be realistic to say that we assume control over what will arise in our experience. Control per se would not even be desirable, because in the space of tremendous rage or passion we can be free nonetheless, and perhaps utilize the energy within those emotions for something more positive in our lives.

John Tarrant: Freedom is just freedom, and it’s either there or not. It doesn’t matter what you’re feeling. In the long arc of a practice, most people do find that they have less intense aversions and so forth. They have less of what you would call disturbing emotions. But it’s also true that when it comes to so-called disturbing emotions, we can ask, who is it disturbing and why is it disturbing? The disturbance is measured against a framework that is illusory. Your disturbing emotions have buddhanature—just as much as your nice calm ones do—and they may actually be more likely to lead to a deeper level of awakening than your nice calm ones.

Ponlop Rinpoche: When you enter the Buddhist path, the point is not to get rid of emotions or thoughts. The important thing is to be mindful of the emotions arising—whether they’re good or bad, or however you might choose to define them. As we progress along the path of meditation, as Sharon and John have expressed, the key point becomes developing a stillness in which we find freedom from the disturbing elements of emotions.

Buddhadharma: In evolutionary terms, biologists talk about emotions as necessary and adaptive, and many psychologists regard emotions as central to who we are. Yet emotions in Buddhism seem to be regarded as a problem. Why is that?

John Tarrant: It’s true that when people talk about emotion in the Buddhist context, usually they’re talking about something that creates a problem. But what’s wrong with emotion, anyway? An emotion is something that arises because we have a body, an incarnation, and in that realm everything is a little bit imperfect. We can’t get anything quite the way we want it to be, and emotion is the indicator of that. There’s also the lizard-brain level of emotions, a reflex. But having an emotion is different from having an emotional problem, which is usually caused by fighting with the emotion, not exploring or having curiosity about it.

Judith Simmer-Brown: It’s important to note that we’re looking at this question through the lens of a Western psychological word, which is something we often do as modern Buddhists. Yet until recently, there’s been very little work done in Western psychology on what emotions actually are.

What we call “emotion” is, at its heart, an energetic experience that doesn’t have to be painful.
—Judith Simmer-Brown
From a Buddhist perspective, emotions are experiences that are not just thoughts; they have some kind of color and texture, which we try to work with directly when they’re painful. There’s an enormous science in Buddhism devoted to recognizing the experience of emotion. This is quite different from Western psychology, which has tended to be heavily interpersonal and management-oriented. However, some psychologists are beginning to appreciate that we can work with the direct experience of our state of mind. That’s a very fruitful way to appreciate that what we call “emotion” is, at its heart, an energetic experience that doesn’t have to be painful.

Sharon Salzberg: Emotion is an element of relationship. It is how our awareness relates to an object—to a circumstance, a person, mortality, anything that presents itself internally or externally. As a manifestation of relationship, emotion can be quite distorted, based in ignorance, so we misconstrue what we’re actually encountering. On the other hand, it can be based in something more truthful and wise and clear, and therein lies the tremendous variety of emotions we experience.

Ponlop Rinpoche: When we look at the term “emotion” as it’s used in the West, it is problematic. I’ve talked with psychologists and psychotherapists about it, but I can’t find one definition of emotion in the Western context. For that matter, from a classical Buddhist point of view, there’s not really a separate topic we would call emotions. Emotions would appear to be part of the wider topic of kleshas, the mental states or experiences that cause torment or discomfort for body and mind and that make the mind unsettled. Kleshas are also said to be subtle and proliferating, a latent tendency, an affliction of the mind.

Emotions can be disturbing and destructive when not experienced with mindfulness and compassion. But if we are able to see clearly what the true nature of the experience is, emotions can have tremendously powerful wisdom and compassion.

Buddhadharma: According to many religions, and in the popular mind as well, there are good emotions and bad emotions. Does Buddhism make this distinction?

Judith Simmer-Brown: A lot of moral judgments are made about emotions. From my own study of abhidharma and from relating to my teachers, I find that there is a much more pragmatic approach toward emotions in the buddhadharma. Emotions have qualities that can lead us to create pain for ourselves and others. What we might label in the language of morality as “good” or “bad,” we would consider instead as more or less conducive to awakening or to compassionate relationship with the world. It is not so much about an external moral judgment of the kind we encounter so much in the West.

Emotions themselves become problematic for us because of what we do with them. They can develop into karmic thought patterns that cause greater pain for us or lead us into negative speech or harmful bodily actions. The activity of the emotions has the potential to cause greater confusion, turbulence, lack of clarity, and suffering—or not. Good and bad are clunky words to describe what the traditional teaching and our meditation experience tell us about emotion. The moral judgment doesn’t fit.

Sharon Salzberg: I agree. In Buddhism, we tend to think more in terms of what is skillful and unskillful. Skillful refers to those states that, when cultivated, lead to the end of suffering. Unskillful refers to those states that, when enhanced and nurtured, lead to more suffering.

That’s a powerful shift for people to make. Instead of falling into the old, conditioned habit of regarding anger or fear as bad, wrong, weak, or terrible—or considering ourselves bad, wrong, weak, or terrible people for having such emotions—we see them as states of suffering. This is a profound transition. It elicits the possibility of responding to ourselves, and to others in the grip of emotions, with compassion rather than rejection or hatred.

John Tarrant: Western psychology has made a partial contribution to our methods of working with emotions. Psychology intended to become a science, and everybody thought it would be. But it turned out that it wasn’t. In large part, it is a normative agent of the culture and the society, and that runs counter to the genuine practice of inquiry. Psychology takes the approach of fixing an emotional problem in order to make a person function again. That may be the goal of a society or a culture, but that is not necessarily the goal of a wisdom tradition. Anybody who has been in any tradition of depth has noticed that people who have what look like pathological emotions might be taking a positive step toward disassembling their old way of being, so that a new, greater possibility can come through. If you’re always fussing at and fixing your mind, you don’t get that journey.

There’s also a kind of voluptuousness about what’s given by the psyche, which at some level is what’s given us by the universe. We can take a housekeeping attitude toward the emotion or we can take the ride and see what discovery is happening. Not a thrill ride, but more a quest. The problem is not the emotion; the problem is being at war with the emotion or acting out the emotion.

Ponlop Rinpoche: I agree completely that how skillfully or unskillfully we work with emotions determines whether the experience of that emotion is what we call bad or good. It is not about emotions, but about how you experience them and handle them. Emotions often come to us as a surprise. When you experience the emotion without skillful means or wisdom, the emotion can be destructive.

In response, the Buddhist teachings present three basic ways of working with emotions. The first approach is mindfulness, which can prevent the destructiveness of the emotions and make them beneficial and useful. The second approach is to bring the emotions to the path of wisdom, by transforming them into something that helps bring benefit to ourselves and others. The third approach, the Vajrayana approach, is to look straight into the essence of the experience of emotion, where we will find tremendous energy and the power of awakening wisdom.

Judith Simmer-Brown: One of the things I’ve found most valuable about Buddhist practice and teaching has been discovering that we don’t really feel our emotions all that often. When there’s an emotional impulse that arises—and I’m talking particularly about the painful ones, the kleshas—we tend to either indulge in it, acting out some kind of catharsis or building an intense storyline around it, or we suppress and bury the emotion. We’re afraid of it. One of the tremendous benefits of Buddhist meditation for me has been to be able to sit with an emotion, to experience it, rather than to feel I have to do something with it immediately or get rid of it.

When we truly feel the intensity of the painful, obsessive, destructive emotions, we deepen our capacity to understand how painful habitual patterns work in our lives.
—Judith Simmer-Brown
One of the great contributions of meditation practice to Western society has been to point out the difference between a managerial approach and an experiential approach. It has brought so much more attention and richness to the description of what emotional life actually is.

Buddhadharma: Many people feel that inspiration and artistry come out of the richness of emotion. How does meditation practice affect the creative aspect of the emotions?

John Tarrant: Spiritual practice is either plumbing, in which case you’ve got a fixed goal and you’re tinkering with the pipes. Or it’s an art, in which case your goal is not predetermined, because you’re in a discovery process. All arts are like that. But while you’re on the journey, you don’t need to be messed up. I don’t think our wisdom tradition necessarily holds to the nineteenth-century idea of the messed-up genius. Although if you’re a messed-up genius, that’s fine too. It’s not wise to go around rejecting the material that life has given you, including the experiences that people think you shouldn’t have. On the surface, you might sometimes disturb others, but ultimately, if you are not disturbing to yourself, that will mean other people aren’t disturbing to you either. There will be much greater compassion, in fact I would say much greater empathy, because there’s not even the level of distance implied by the term compassion. You really are the other in some sense, and that’s the source of your creative imagination.

Ponlop Rinpoche: Emotions have very powerful creative energy. Many visual artists and poets are inspired by emotions. We create beautiful products from some of our emotions. So it’s good to see and appreciate the beauty of such emotions, even when they’re seemingly destructive, like strong passion or aggression. When you transform that into a piece of art, it becomes so beautiful. You not only find peace and creativity through such expression, but many other people also find peace and enjoyment through looking at your creation. Within the world of creativity, there’s a strong element of releasing your emotion or finding the wisdom of emotion, and we can find peace or relief through the artful expression of emotions.

Buddhadharma: What’s the difference between the feeling of relief from releasing one’s emotion creatively and finding relief by getting something off your chest?

Ponlop Rinpoche: The act of just releasing and expressing is very temporary. It gives brief relief and a sense of freedom, but the root of your emotions is still there. With meditation, one can get to the root of all the emotions and see the true wisdom within them.

Judith Simmer-Brown: Our tendency to act on emotions comes from the fact that we’re afraid to feel them. Mindfulness cultivates the ability to fully experience emotions. Like most of us, I’ve only ever learned things the hard way. I’ve learned that emotions are painful when I feel them, that kleshas are genuinely painful. But when we truly feel the intensity of the painful, obsessive, destructive emotions, we deepen our capacity to understand how painful habitual patterns work in our lives. We get to see how our acting out of anger has caused incredible pain for us and for many others. Being able to experience my anger fully, and feel the pain before I act, gives me the opportunity to let go, without repeating the habit of releasing the emotions in some kind of fit. The real relief is in letting go.

When we act on our anger, we are actually practicing anger, training in anger. We are deepening and reinforcing the patterns and tendencies by impulsively acting. With mindfulness, we can see the chain we’re caught in, and we can also see the purity at the root of the emotion. To see the alternative is a fantastic relief, not at all like the temporary relief of getting your emotion out.

John Tarrant: I don’t experience expressing emotion as relief. Paying attention is what leads to a transformation. Paying attention is actually the best form of love we have to bring to our lives. If we pay attention, we find freedom, rather than relief. Relief is erecting an alternative fantasy world to live in, until it breaks down too.

Ponlop Rinpoche: And it will [laughs].

John Tarrant: Freedom is freedom. Full stop. Freedom can be edgy and scary and surprising and wonderful and all that, but it’s freedom, which is ultimately a more loving and interesting thing than just unloading an emotion.

Buddhadharma: But it’s still freedom from something, isn’t it?

John Tarrant: I completely disagree. Vajrayana people talk about spaciousness. Shunyata is on your side, you might say.

Ponlop Rinpoche: Are you talking about what we call self-liberation?

John Tarrant: Yes, a little taste of it anyway. If you’re looking to release your emotion, you’re trying to make your universe and yourself small. You’re accepting a cheap prize, when something much larger might be available.

Buddhadharma: And the world is currently driven by…

Sharon Salzberg: Getting big prizes.

John Tarrant: You could have a genuine plastic toy!

Ponlop Rinpoche: Freedom made in China.

Buddhadharma: We’ve talked about trying to find relief through releasing emotions. What about feeling bad and guilty about our emotions, and keeping them bottled up for fear of the negative consequences? Isn’t that just as problematic?

Sharon Salzberg: As we’ve been talking, I’ve been recalling myself at eighteen, going to India to learn meditation with S.N. Goenka. I did an intensive ten-day retreat, then another one, and then another one, and somewhere in there I was experiencing tremendous anger, which I was very uncomfortable with. I was not very psychologically sophisticated. I knew I was very unhappy, but I really didn’t know the constituents of my internal world, so finding this anger shocked me. I marched up to Goenka at one point and, looking him in the eye, I said, “I never used to be an angry person before I started to meditate.” I laid the blame on him, exactly where I felt it belonged. When I got through the distress of facing this newly discovered wealth of anger, I found out that the actual freedom was in recognizing it without shame, without falling into it, without identifying with it. That’s what real kindness is. We can get caught in thinking that kindness means that we can only smile and acquiesce or be complacent and passive. We’re confusing action and motivation. We cultivate kindness as the basis of our intention, so that our motives are increasingly about connection rather than fear and alienation. To find what we feel is the best response in a particular situation demands mindfulness in a bigger context. Such larger mindfulness means it’s possible that we could come from a genuinely kind place and also have an intensity or fierceness in our actions if the context invites it.

Buddhadharma: So you would make a sharp distinction between mindfulness and hypervigilant management of emotion?

Sharon Salzberg: Yes, very much so.

Buddhadharma: Mindfulness allows for mistakes, does it not? One might end up expressing anger, as you did with Goenka, and some kind of discovery could result. If you’re in an intense relationship, like raising a teenager, you can’t go off and find a cushion every time an emotion arises. Trying hard to be skillful with every emotion at every moment…

John Tarrant: That would be the real mistake.

Buddhadharma: Often our strongest emotions come up with the people we’re closest to. If you’re raising children, for example, you have plenty of opportunities to see your emotional framework writ large, to see how often your emotions are a way to lay your worldview down on others.

John Tarrant: Yes, we seem to like to interfere with other people’s business. There’s an interesting way in which spiritual people, not just Buddhists, can be sneaky about their emotions, validating them by reprimanding other people, which is usually not a path to wisdom. Families make it hard to get away with that, and it seems you can’t raise a child without making an idiot of yourself. For that matter, you can’t love without making an idiot of yourself. It’s a perfect joining of things. It’s not a mistake.

Judith Simmer-Brown: I was in a Buddhist-Christian dialogue about ten years ago, and one of the longtime Trappist monks said with great pride that he couldn’t remember the last time he was angry. I muttered under my breath that he obviously didn’t have a family. If you create a bubble around yourself and think that having or expressing emotions is a problem, that’s a sad life. Our emotions carry our very best features, and as Ponlop Rinpoche was saying earlier, they are fundamentally wisdom. Chögyam Trungpa once said that emotions are like a game we started because we just enjoyed them so much, and then they got out of hand. We became afraid of them. But at bottom they are a vivid display of our fundamental wisdom and brilliance. We forget that we created them in the first place, because of all the extra baggage they carry.

It’s a blessing to be in situations that drive you crazy, because it helps you develop a deeper heart. Being a wife and mother has forced me to take greater responsibility for the games I started. These people in my life who push my buttons are my greatest teachers and dearest friends. I’m grateful that I can remember vividly the last time I was angry.

Ponlop Rinpoche: Not all monks are angry-free, by the way. In my experience, the Vajrayana masters are always angry [laughter]. Ever since Tilopa, they’ve been shouting. I’m just kidding, of course.

John Tarrant: The Vajrayana tradition and the koan tradition seem to me to have some similarities. You meet the surprise and wonder of life as it arises, finding out what instructions life has for you rather than what instructions you have for managing life.

Even in the moment when you experience the most destructive emotion, such as rage, if you can penetrate to its essence you find tremendous space and energy, luminosity.
—Ponlop Rinpoche
Buddhadharma: We’ve talked about mindfulness and attention to emotions. There is also an aspect of Buddhist practice that has to do with cultivating certain emotions. Is it necessary to practice mindfulness effectively before cultivating loving-kindness?

Ponlop Rinpoche: I’ve been teaching three steps in working with emotions, inspired by the Buddhist teachings. The first step is to have a mindful gap. Usually when we experience any emotions, we just embrace them and become that emotion. There’s no gap between you and the emotion. It’s very helpful to notice, “Oh! I am experiencing an emotion here.” It slows down the speed and gives you room.

Once you have this gap, you can see the emotion clearly. That’s the second step: seeing clearly. This allows you to see what kind of skillful means you might apply, what kind of wisdom might make the emotion useful and beneficial. The third step is letting go. You let go of your fear, your anger, your jealousy. You don’t need to keep them.

Sharon Salzberg: It is helpful to address whether it’s necessary to do mindfulness practice before cultivating positive emotions. I’ve seen so many people for whom the process is done in reverse. Mindfulness and loving-kindness are so clearly reciprocal and mutually supportive. There are many people whose mindfulness is challenged by a corrosive habit of self-judgment, criticism, and self-hatred. Therefore, it is quite hard to come to a space of being mindful of very difficult and challenging emotions. For people like that, which is many of us, loving-kindness or compassion practice actually creates the ground out of which they’re more able to do mindfulness genuinely.

Ponlop Rinpoche: That’s very true.

John Tarrant: In koan practice you find mindfulness practice at times, but also kindness. In the beginning, when somebody starts hanging out with a standard koan like, “The whole world is medicine. What is the self?” they will go through all the usual concentration phenomena, but then they might have some sort of transformation, which is prajna emerging. At the same time, they may also just find themselves kinder. It’s based on prajna, but sometimes the transformation can start happening in the darkness in a nonrational way. It’s a kind of creative move by the universe that happens when you expose yourself to it. What I like about koans is that they have an unpredictable nonlinear effect, like poems or music do.

The truth is that, as you keep going deeper into the meditation path, the categories—mindfulness, awareness, loving-kindness—just slide around. There are fewer boundary lines and categories. Your feet find a path, and the path rises to meet your feet.

Judith Simmer-Brown: These various elements are mutually supportive. The clear-seeing that Rinpoche was talking about gives us a kind of aha! experience that reveals the contrast between habitual patterns and a fresh emotional life, and that allows us to act with loving-kindness in our relations with others, rather than obsess about the people who have insulted us or attracted us, or whatever. Kindness and attention work so closely together it becomes hard to separate them.

John Tarrant: Yes. Loving-kindness is a practice, but at the same time if you really pay attention you might find, as I do with koan work, that kindness starts coming up from below. You suddenly find you have a loving attitude toward life. That happens because kindness is not something added to awareness. It’s fundamental to the nature of awareness.

Buddhadharma: That suggests that our traditional ideas about emotions being kind of gooey and awareness being dry in fact fall apart.

John Tarrant: The opposition between paying attention and cultivating loving-kindness ultimately falls away.

Judith Simmer-Brown: The distortion of our clear-seeing is part of the painfulness of emotion. We are removed from the direct experience of the way things are. The painful way we experience emotions and our distorted view of reality are completely intermingled.

Buddhadharma: So if you lose the distortion, you wouldn’t necessarily lose the intensity of emotion, but you would experience it differently?

Judith Simmer-Brown: The energy is completely different without the distortion. Practice helps you see just how much you are caught in your own little house of mirrors, how totally you distort your perspective in the midst of intense emotion.

Buddhadharma: How do we find the wisdom in emotion, as several of you have been hinting is possible?

Ponlop Rinpoche: From the Vajrayana point of view, it’s a little bit like what John said about koan practice. We work mostly from the prajna side of things, but at the same time we employ special skillful means to see the true energy of emotions. Even in the moment when you experience the most destructive emotion, such as rage, if you can penetrate to its essence you find tremendous space and energy, luminosity.

Many of the Vajrayana practices suggest that we not abandon the emotions but rather work with their pure energy. The pure energy will lead us to a complete state of awakening, because emotions are primordially free. The intensity of emotions has a quality of sudden awakening, right here within the very moment of samsaric experience. From the Vajrayana point of view, all the practices are directed toward seeing the essence of emotion rather than working with the conceptual or judgmental aspect of mind. We can go beyond that and see the power of the raw and naked state of emotions.

Buddhadharma: When a surge of emotion comes up, then, it always presents the possibility of awakening?

Ponlop Rinpoche: It’s already in the state of awakening. We just have to discover that. From the Mahayana perspective, we would think in terms of transforming, whereas in Vajrayana we don’t need to transform anything. In Mahayana, you work with emotions in a more conceptual way. In Vajrayana, you go straight to the naked state of the emotions, within which we find tremendous space, emptiness, clarity, luminosity, and vividness—what we call the clear light mind.

John Tarrant: I would say that koans are more on that Vajrayana side of things too.

Buddhadharma: Where you’re breaking down concepts utterly.

John Tarrant: Well, you recognize something that was already there that you hadn’t noticed.

Ponlop Rinpoche: Exactly.

Judith Simmer-Brown: Doesn’t the recognition also carry with it a kind of enjoyment?

John Tarrant: Yes, but I don’t know if at that point you would call it emotion. There’s delight, a large sense of life. It’s not a checked-out kind of bliss. It’s more appreciation and relish.

Ponlop Rinpoche: The naked and raw state of emotions has the quality of bliss and emptiness inseparable, which is beyond joy versus agony. It’s self-liberation, self-freeing. Emotions free themselves. We don’t need to free them.

Buddhadharma: We’re back to not being able to get rid of the emotions.

Judith Simmer-Brown: You don’t want to.

Ponlop Rinpoche: You don’t need to.

Judith Simmer-Brown: So there’s nothing to be done?

Ponlop Rinpoche: The problem is, you’re trying too hard. Just relax and enjoy the wild ride [laughter].

Buddhadharma: That’s sublime, but I know that some of us are also in need of a first-aid kit for those times when we have a volcanic upsurge of emotion and feel inadequate in the face of it. Are there one or two things we ought to remember at those moments to recall the clarity and creativity, the wisdom you’ve all been talking about?

Sharon Salzberg: I would say that one of the first things to do is to notice the add-ons. There’s the arising of the emotion, which is its own state, but on top of that we add a future, we add a certain kind of reaction, like shame or exaggeration. Or perhaps we add comparison, by holding ourselves up to an ideal we’re not attaining. We certainly add a sense of self—I’m such an angry person. We just add and add. So probably the first thing to try to do is to release some of those add-ons, so we can come back to the original experience. Then we can maybe let ourselves be with the basic emotion in as mindful a way as possible. That will open up a little space, and in that space, we see can options.

That reminds me of an article I saw in the New York Times about mindfulness in the classroom. One of the fifth graders was asked, “What is mindfulness?” And he said, “Mindfulness means not hitting someone in the mouth.” I thought that was a fantastic answer. It implies knowing what you’re feeling when you’re feeling it, not fifteen consequential actions later. It implies having a relationship to that feeling, so you’re not completely lost in it and identified with it. It implies being able to make some choices. Mindfulness is not hitting someone in the mouth. That’s my new working definition of mindfulness.

Ponlop Rinpoche: That’s a great koan.

Dealing with Emotions | SamyeLing.org

Dealing with Emotions | SamyeLing.org

Dealing with Emotions
By Lama Yeshe Losal Rinpoche

When you have identified your major problem, whatever the poison, whatever the problem is that is bothering you terribly, you should then sit there, relax, and call up this emotion in your meditation. Whether it is anger, jealousy, pride, envy, whatever, summon it here. Then introduce yourself to this being which has somehow caused so much chaos in your life for so long, and investigate this feeling of yours. How big is it? Is it oblong? Round? Black? White? What colour, what shape is it?

Look at the essence of this emotion that makes you suffer so much. You always think that the emotion is genuinely happening, but if that were the case, it should have a shape, a colour, a size. If you are bothered by something, there must be something there for you to be bothered by! How can anything bother you when you find nothing? If it were a solid entity, really existing in some part of your body, you could just remove it with an operation and thus solve all your problems. However, emotions have no such characteristics.

This is the time to do a really proper investigation through meditation. Hopefully you will come to the very strong conclusion that there isn't anything to worry about, because there is nothing to be found. You then discover that you are responsible for creating emotions that do not really exist, and that you yourself transform them into solid realities.

That's why our emotional states are so difficult to handle. Somehow we are able to build this solid image out of an emotion, and it bothers us all the time. It takes away our peace and destroys whatever we're doing. If I were to tell you there is nothing to bother you, you would certainly reply, Oh, this Lama Yeshe is saying so, but my feelings really bother me. This is why I'm asking you to do this investigation here, now, in your own meditation. There is no other way. When you yourself come to the conclusion that there is actually nothing there to bother you, then you should be relieved. It should comfort you to know that somehow you have been enslaved by feelings that do not really exist.

Doing this again and again is like dismantling the imagery you have built up all your life. Through meditation, you can dismantle this feeling that there is something bothering you all the time. But unless you do proper research, you won't be able to achieve it. You have to wholeheartedly involve and engage yourself in this investigation, so that you really find out for yourself. Whichever way you look, no matter how much time you invest, you find nothing at all, but if you still let your life be poisoned by this, you're really wrong, aren't you? If you can find nothing, then why should you be afraid?

For example, if you're very afraid, look at the essence of what you are afraid of. Does this fear manifest like a monster? Does it have many horns, or teeth? What is it you are really afraid of? And if you can't find anything, then think whether in childhood maybe someone frightened you. Maybe you built your own image on this and weren't able to get rid of it afterwards, although there isn't really anything to bother you now.

This type of meditation is called lhakthong in Tibetan, which means thorough investigation leading to insight. Learning to deal with our emotions, we gradually get used to the idea of the possibility of inner transformation. In the Tibetan tradition, we say that our mind is like a wild being. We have to tame this wild being. Usually, people think that everybody else is the problem and that they themselves are the perfect ones - that way they end up never finding any peace in their minds. The right approach is to tame our own wild being and then everything else falls nicely into place. This can only be achieved through meditation.

However, things are not going to change overnight. For some, it may take ten, twenty years or more. As Buddhists, we believe that this accumulation of habits may have taken many lifetimes. Those who do not believe in previous lives can still accept the fact that it has taken them twenty, thirty or forty years to assimilate their family lineage, culture, and tradition. We have so many habits, we cannot suddenly drop them altogether. That is why we should never get impatient. We should simply acknowledge that the task is difficult, but we should never give up.

 Reference: excerpt from 'Living Dharma' by Lama Yeshe Losal Rinpoche

Feminist Buddhism as Praxis: Women in Traditional Buddhism on JSTOR

Feminist Buddhism as Praxis: Women in Traditional Buddhism on JSTOR

Feminist Buddhism as Praxis: Women in Traditional Buddhism
Kawahashi Noriko and 川橋範子
Japanese Journal of Religious Studies
Vol. 30, No. 3/4, Feminism and Religion in Contemporary Japan (Fall, 2003), pp. 291-313 (23 pages)
Published By: Nanzan University
https://www.jstor.org/stable/30234052
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Abstract
This paper discusses a project the author has been engaged in since 1994 with women in the Japanese Buddhist community who are working across sectarian boundaries to recreate a Buddhism that goes beyond patriarchy. While the celibacy prized by many Buddhist orders that profess renunciation of secular married life has resulted in oppression of women, this paper points out that women face similar problems even in the laicized Shin school. The paper describes various perspectives that women of this project have adopted in their feminist critiques of Buddhism and their movement to remake Buddhism for today, and argues that the question of whether traditional Buddhist orders can overcome their predicament depends upon whether the men can open themselves to hear the women's voices of protest. The paper shows that this project can also contribute to a critique of the Eurocentric feminist version of Buddhism that informs the understanding of some European and American feminist scholars in this field.