Choosing freedom

I am reading the book "Work" by Thich Nhat Hanh. Sometimes I am disturbed by his writing because it seems to me rather unsophisticated—simplistic, even. But I think this is fully intentional on his part. What I am looking for, what I think of as sophistication, is a form of intellectual engagement which makes me feel as if I understand what is going on in the world, that I have a grasp of it that is somewhat superior to the average human. I know this sounds arrogant, but my point is that we do this very thing all the time, seek to be engaged on an intellectual level, at a level of sophistication that has nothing to do with true understanding. We try to live in a sort of academic model of the Buddha's teachings in which we begin with Enlightenment 101 and progress through the syllabus to Final Realization, the PhD of Buddhism.

But the Buddha himself rejected even the idea of "Buddhism" as being antithetical to his teachings. The problem with identifying oneself as a Buddhist is two-fold: it assumes that there is something which is not of the Dharma and it assumes that there is a class of people who are non-Buddhists. Both of these are fallacious concepts and do nothing but feed into the very egoism that is the core of suffering. So I think that the simplicity of Hanh's teachings is purposeful. This is the whole answer, he seems to be saying. Sometimes I can sense the Buddha smiling indulgently when I try to overcomplicate this thing.

Here is one realization that has become more real for me lately: the end of suffering is a choice, and not a particularly difficult one. Now, I have understood this intellectually for a long time. This is, after all, the core of the Buddha's teachings. But recently I have begun to incorporate this idea more viscerally. I have a choice, in each moment, for suffering or for freedom. Let me be even more clear about this. Nirvana is the end of suffering; that's all it is. And since we have it within our power to choose freedom, Nirvana, too, is within our grasp, right now, today, in this very life. No, but really. There is no further sophistication required and the seeking of such complexity creates suffering.

The question that immediately arises, then, is why can't we consistently choose freedom? What's stopping us? I sometimes feel I would like to march up to Dharma teachers and take them by the collar of their saffron robes and demand that they tell me the secret. Yes, yes, it's a simple thing to choose freedom. It also seems to be damn near impossible.

Of course, the answer is complicated. But it's only complicated by our twisty minds. We have been conditioned to certain ways of thinking and being in the world that are antithetical to freedom. And we completely and utterly believe in our conditioning, so even if we come to an understanding of the nature of freedom we still seek comfort from those things that cannot supply it. Recall that in my last post I quoted the Buddha as saying "Everything the world considers a source of suffering I consider a source of freedom. Everything the world considers a source of freedom, I consider a source of suffering." This is worth musing on. He said, "everything", not most things or a few. Renunciation, for instance, which simply means giving up everything that does not and cannot give us happiness, a pizza, for instance, feels like deprivation in the practice. On the other hand, the attempt to derive lasting pleasure from a pizza would be considered by the Buddha a source of suffering. But life is too short, we think, to give up such pleasures as these. Life is hard enough, isn't it? The Buddha would reply, I think, that life is too short to ask pleasures like these to give us true happiness and divert us from the path that can lead to the real thing. These create suffering, not relieve it, because using them to supply happiness requires that they be constantly renewed. No sooner have we had the pleasurable experience than it must be re-experienced to sustain the pleasure. The deep joy that comes from true freedom, on the other hand, is perpetual, indestructible, and ever-present.

Last week, I listened to a fascinating talk on this subject by Robina Courtin. She makes the case that what the Buddha called "attachment" (the grasping onto something that gives us pleasure, the rejection of that which is perceived as unpleasant) we might more accurately call "addiction". Of course, this is not a new idea, but she gave it new life for me. It is instructive to look at the destructive cycle of a true addict, say one hooked on crystal meth, where the craving is constant and implacable, to the exclusion of everything wholesome and useful. It is easy to consider ourselves entirely above this kind of behavior, yet Courtin emphasizes that "we are all addicts; it's only a matter of degree." This is hard to hear, but is precisely what I was speaking of above. Because we have freedom within our grasp and take actions that stand between us and that freedom, we must be addicted to experiences that move counter to freedom, otherwise, why would we do them? We are just like the meth addict in this, but we use donuts and Starbucks and cars, television and shopping and wine, sex and vacations and food.

Now, you'll have to excuse me. I am going down the street to buy some gelato. I'm then going to come home and watch the World Series. I'm sure these will bring me lasting happiness. Just see if they don't.

(After I wrote this, I really did go down the street to buy some gelato. They didn't have any of my flavors, so I had to settle for sorbet, which I like, but not nearly as much. Then on the way home, a bird shit on my head. I kid you not.

Well played, Mr. Buddha, sir, well played).