Simply put, the Second Noble Truth states that our suffering is caused by our desires, our thirsts, our appetites and our attachments. We cling to whatever it is that we crave, to what gives us pleasure, and wish that it would go on forever, ignoring the reality that in fact nothing lasts forever, not romantic love (at least not as it is first experienced), not a new BMW 745i, not a steak dinner, not an episode of "Seinfeld." Everything ultimately slips away from us, even our own health, and our desire for it to be otherwise results in our suffering.
To put it another way, here's the secret to happiness: just recognize and appreciate the few brief moments of pleasure as they come, and don't try to hang on to them. Hanging on is like trying to hold water in your hands - the harder you squeeze, the more it slips between your fingers. Or to paraphrase Bucky Fuller, "Don't fight forces; just go with the flow." So just allow the pleasures to arise as they may, and don't try to make them last any longer than they naturally occur, and there it is - the secret of happiness. How about that? Not bad for an eccentric, sporadically updated blog, is it?
To look a little deeper, consider this interesting twist to the Siddharta story, as related by Red Pine:
The five ascetics - Ashvajit, Vashpa, Mahanaman, Bhadrika and Kaundinya - were all actually relatives of Shakyamuni. Kaundinya, for example, was his maternal uncle, and Ashajit was his cousin. All five had been odrered by King Suddhodana to accompany his headstrong son on his spiritual quest. But six years later, when Shakyamuni decided not to continue his austerities but to seek the Middle Way between asceticism and indulgence, they left him in disgust at the shore of the Nairanjana River below the caves they had shared at Pragbodhi. While the five ascetics proceeded to Varanasi, Shakyamuni waded across the river to Bodh Gaya, sat down beneath an ashvattha tree (Ficus religiosa, the Indian fig), and resolved not to rise again until he could put an end to suffering, which he did over the next several days to the benefit of all beings.
Not long after his enlightenment, the Buddha caught up with his former companions just outside Varanasi at a place called Deer Park, and proclaimed the Four Noble Truths. In that sermon, he traced suffering back to its cause: thirst (trishna), or more specifically, thirst for the existence or non-existence of some object or state to which we have become attached. Because all objects and states are subject to change, our thirst and its consequent attachment result in suffering. Thus, the Buddha's First Noble Truth was the truth of the existence of suffering, and the Second Noble Truth revealed the origin of suffering.
Every experience of which we are aware is transient and fraught with suffering. And every experience is fraught with suffering because we do not see things as they really are. All we see are what we love and hate and have deceived ourselves into believing exists or does not exist. In response to this, the Buddha asks us to see things as they really are. He does not ask us to cling to optimistic views of eternity or pessimistic views of annihilation, but simply to examine our experience. This is the first Noble Truth, the first statement of the way things really are. Because we are attached to what is impermanent, every experience is doomed to result in suffering. Thus, our suffering is a direct result of our attachment, which is the Second Noble Truth.
1 comment:
I do not know if this is how it works for anyone else, but for me the "harsh realities" and the "brutal simple elements" such as physicists, mathematicians and chemists find them and which give rise to the complexities which evolve on this earth...all these things that seem on the verge of chaos, yet have somehow brought some people to the insights you have recounted...all this seems to me, fleeting though I may be, to be poetic and of incredible beauty.
Its not that I won't mind perishing, I certainly will. And I rue each strength and vista that fades. But if we open our eyes instead of closing them and willing our dreams onto the rough substance of actual being, we might all be so much happier. In ourselves and in the freedom we would then give each other to be as they are.
No word for it. Though it is, to me, a kind of acceptance, it is a kind for which I don't know a proper word.
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