Empty Cup

Often times we hear people denouncing Eastern religions and spiritual teachings as being world-denying. Buddhism, being of Eastern origins, gets bundled into the same category of world-denying practices. I should like to add that these accusations often seem to originate from the Christian-based thinkers.

Obviously, Christianity itself could just as easily be accused of the ‘world denying’ propensities, seeing how eager Christian practitioners are to denounce the world, or as they call it, the valley of tears. Their teaching and practice is all about suffering and tolerating the unpleasantness of this world in order to earn the reward of life everlasting in Heaven (Heaven being, of course, the absolute denial and negation of this world.)

But here I want to ask the question what is meant by ‘world’ and what is meant by ‘denying it’?

For most religious practitioners, ‘world’ is synonymous with ‘creation’, and ‘world denial’ is synonymous with destruction. The truth of creation is the highest value and the highest goal in the minds of the ‘creationists’. Is there an equivalent to that in the Buddhist teaching?

Four Truths in the Buddhist Teaching

We as Buddhist practitioners are aware of four kinds of truths. These truths inhabit our practice, and are detectable at various times to variously trained practitioners.

The first kind of truth is the truth we tend to uphold while being in the state of sleep and dreaming some dreams. At that point, the content of our dreams appears to us as undeniable truth, something that is simply self-evident. We do not feel, at the time when we’re engulfed in dreams, that we have to stop and step back and reevaluate the truth of what’s unfolding before us in our dream.

However, when the conditions change, that is to say when we wake up, the simple truth that was so self-evident to us a moment ago, ceases to be the truth and turns out to be untrue. The states we were experiencing while dreaming did not continue to hold true when our conditions changed from sleeping to being awake. So that, for example, while I may have been unbearably embarrassed in my dream where I was under the impression that I have showed up at the office without wearing my pants nor my underwear, upon waking up I immediately realize the falsity of that fact and the foolishness of feeling embarrassed about something that never happened.

So we see that the first kind of truth is subject to conditions. At one point in time it appears to be holding true, but the next moment its truthfulness simply evaporates.

The second kind of truth that we can talk about in Buddhism is the truth of the optical or other apparitions, as they may occur to us while being awake. Thus a person could find himself wandering in the desert, not having any water to drink. At some point, that person may look toward the horizon and joyously discover that there is a little lake full of fresh water awaiting him. He may then rush toward that lake, hoping to quench his thirst. But sooner or later, the conditions will change for that person, and he will be forced to recognize the falsity of this, the second level truth. Such truth used to hold true for the time being and under certain conditions, but as soon as the conditions change, the truth evaporates. Therefore, the second kind of truth in Buddhism is also conditioned. It arises under certain conditions, and then it perishes when those conditions cease to be present.

The third kind of truth is the truth of the so-called normal waking living. This truth holds that there are space and time which possess certain attributes (i.e. up, down, left, right, west, east, south, north, before, now, after, etc.). Also, it holds that there are various objects that come into being, stay around for a while, and then vanish. All these objects are distinct and separate from each other.

What Buddhist practice reveals is that this third kind of truth is also completely conditioned. Same as the first two kinds of truth (i.e. the truth of dreams while being asleep and the truth of optical illusion while being under duress), the normal everyday truth of being born, growing up, aging, getting sick and dying is also applicable only under certain circumstances. Remove those circumstances and conditions, and the normal everyday truth evaporates in the same way that the truth contained in the dreams evaporates upon waking up.

The fourth kind of truth is the so-called absolute truth, that is, truth of the totality. Unlike the first three kinds of truths, this truth is unconditioned. It is unborn and unperishable. Regardless of how violently and abruptly the conditions and the circumstances may change, absolute truth cannot be affected.

What is being denied in Buddhism?

Buddhism negates and denies the unconditional validity of the first three kinds of truth (that is, the truth contained in dreams, the truth contained in optical and similar illusions, and the truth contained in everyday norms accepted by the consensus). Buddhism does not negate the validity of the absolute truth. But if anyone blindly believes that the first three kinds of truths contain immutable validity that is not affected by the changing conditions and circumstances, than such person is being delusional.

So is Buddhism denying the world? It would depend on the definition of the notion of ‘world’. If by world we mean the world of dreams, then yes, Buddhism is denying the unconditional validity of that world. Also, if by world we mean the world of optical illusions, then the answer is also positive. Same for the world of socially constructed norms, such as our regular daily world of sowing seeds and harvesting crops, chopping wood and carrying water. Buddhism does indeed deny the unconditional validity of that world. In other words, Buddhism claims that such worlds are only relative, being dependent on conditions and circumstances, and thus being at their whims.

What is not whimsical, according to the Buddhist teaching, is the undeniable validity of totality, of absolute truth. Buddhism does not deny nor negate this world. Buddhism only denies the world where the truth, even though appearing to be self-evident, cannot withstand protracted scrutiny.

Shunyata (often translated as emptiness) is at the heart of experiencing reality as it is. Anyone who’s been in the position to taste the unsurpassed flavor of freedom had actually been in intimate touch with shunyata at that moment. And that moment is, of course, timeless.

From the phenomenological perspective, that is, from the perspective of attempting to describe the indescribable experience of shunyata, one can only say that there is an unmistakable realization that all the everyday things and concepts are unreal. Everything that we cherish and everything that we feel brings meaning to our lives is perceived as false and irrelevant once we experience enlightenment by getting in touch with shunyata.

What then tends to be rather confusing to the innocent bystanders, who may become aware that someone in their community has experienced liberation, is why is it that liberation invariably brings love? Why is it that, once someone realizes how utterly futile all human hopes and dreams are, all that’s left for that person to feel is love? Why not feel hate instead of love, or feel anger, or cynicism, or any other arbitrary emotion?

The reason is very simple: love is the most immediate manifestation of intimacy. When a person experiences liberation, enlightenment, shunyata, what becomes immediately apparent is how intimate every apparition, every manifested as well as every unmanifested phenomenon is. All separation is gone, disappeared in the same way the night disappears with the light of dawn. And all that is left is absence of separation, absence of anxiety, absence of vexation. In other words, love.

The above description may be naive and simplistic, but it is nevertheless true.

To live a human life is to be engrossed in the ocean of theories. For example, right now you are engaged in this theory of reading someone’s blog post. Later on, you may be dealing with another theory, the one that states that you are drinking a cup of coffee. And so on.

The trouble is, we take all these theories for granted. We take any theoretical proposition, such as that the earth is flat, or that the earth is round, or that the light consists of waves of energy, or that it consists of a stream of particles, or both, or neither, etc., and then believe it to be the absolute truth. Despite the fact that most of us have been forewarned, either by our religious and spiritual teacher, or by our scientists, that the nature of the evidence is at best very suspect, we still continue to disregard these advices.

So why do theories keep surfacing? The mind incessantly weaves patterns of activities, which are very deeply based on our intentions, seated at the core of our consciousness. It is a gross mistake to take those patterns as representing something real, something substantial. Better to recognize them as theories.

This is why Socrates exclaimed that unexamined life is not worth living. Basically, as we go down our chosen path in life, it is our responsibility not to leave any stone unturned.

What is a Theory?

Yes, but what exactly is a theory? According to Karl Popper, one of the leading thinkers in the 20th century philosophy, a theory is a falsifiable hypothesis.

For example, Newton’s theoretical attempts at explaining how the reality works are valid theories, because they are falsifiable — there is a conceivable set of circumstances that could falsify his claims (this actually did happen with Einstein’s introduction of the Theory of Relativity, which completely falsifies Newton’s view of the universe).

On the other hand, Freud’s hypothesis that lead to the formulation of Psychoanalysis does not qualify as being a proper theory, because it is not falsifiable. In other words, one cannot imagine a set of circumstances that could disprove Freud’s claims that a person’s psyche is completely determined by the events that occurred during that person’s early childhood.

What is a Theory About Theories?

A ‘theory about theories’ is simply just another word for ‘Buddhist practice’. Our practice is nothing else but one continuous awareness about theories.

Through cultivating this awareness that each and every pattern emanating from our minds could be viewed as a theory, and is thus falsifiable, we cultivate pure and complete liberation. Only a person who is constantly aware of the theories surrounding each and every activity around us, can taste the unsurpassed sweetness of total liberation.

This culture of ‘theory about theories’ is the ultimate knowledge about the impossibility of knowing anything. As such, it is utterly liberating. Nothing ever gets spared from its penetrating gaze.

For example, I have undergone, through my intense Buddhist practice, the experience of enlightenment. I can pinpoint the exact place in space and time where this all encompassing and obliterating experience occurred. I have indeed experienced that state which people refer to as satori, or nirvana, the everlasting and the most profound peace.

But all along I’m perfectly aware that this experience is just a theory. I don’t view it as being something real, something substantial. It is just another in the series of experiences that need to be examined. It is just another of the theories that need to be subsumed in our practice of ‘theories about theories’.

Why is this practice so powerful, so as to surpass even the highest achievements of the divine celestial beings? The reason is simple — ‘theory about theories’ has the power to short-circuit any attempts at the runaway escalation of the meta levels. Simply put, even though it is possible to have a theory about theories, it would be impossible to have a theory about a theory about theories, and so on.

Any such attempt immediately collapses to the one and only ‘theory about theories’.

Buddhist practice is solely concerned with human condition. And the most prevalent characteristic of human condition is that we tend to take events that happen to us very personally.

This is the cause for many a suffering. Being extremely sensitive personally is not a fun way to go through life.

So what do Buddhist practitioners do to get out of that hole? They basically have a choice of two courses of action:

1. Don’t take things that concern them personally
2. Take those things personally, but in addition, take everything else that occurs personally as well

In truth, both the above courses of action boil down to the same thing. If a practitioner choses the ‘don’t take it personally’ path, that will liberate him from the bondage of being confined inside the prison of his body and mind. But if another practitioner takes another recommended course of action and starts taking everything personally, he will also be completely liberated from the prison. By taking onto himself all the other people’s travails, he will become fully aware of the self, an will consequently forget all about the self.

Thus, he will be freed.

As a Buddhist practitioner, if you put all of your heart into your practice, there will come a time when you’ll experience a breakthrough. So, what is this breakthrough, you may be asking. There is no simple way to explain it, and perhaps it will be good enough to say that it’s the point when you stop thinking and start knowing.

Yes, but what does it mean to stop thinking and start knowing? We all know how does it feel to keep thinking, but we’re not so sure how does it feel to start knowing. Have we already started knowing? If not, are we getting close to starting to know? How do we know that we have started knowing?

And what is it that we will start knowing? Like, right now you may think that you know how to live, how to deal with various situations. So, is this the type of knowing we can expect a breakthrough experience is going to bring? What else is there to learn?

Obviously,we’re not talking about the so-called scientific knowledge. Knowing that the universe may be 15 billion years old is pretty inconsequential here on earth. Pretty much nothing is gained by knowing that, and nothing would be lost by not knowing that fact. There are many other facts that are quite irrelevant to our well being.

But because Buddhist practice is strictly concerned with the human condition, its sole focus is on human well being. So this ‘knowing’ that we’re talking about is the knowing of how to lead a life of well being.

Curiously, seems like in order to know how to lead a life of well being, we need to stop thinking. Thinking seems to be in the way of that vital knowledge.

Basically, what we’re talking about here is the type of knowledge that parents have when raising their children. They don’t need to think in order to get to the point of loving their children. They love their children effortlessly, and thus, not needing to think, they instantly know what to do. They know how to provide well being for their children.

Buddhists practice that same discipline, only they train themselves to view the entire world as their own children. Once you get closer to that stage, you’ll discover that you’ll need less thinking, less strategising, and you’ll spontaneously approach the land of effortless knowing.