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Finding Strength in Sorrow: Coping with Grief through the Four Immeasurables

Finding Strength in Sorrow: Coping with Grief through the Four Immeasurables

by | Apr 19, 2024 | Emotional-mastery, Read, Wellbeing

TLDR: Grief is a challenging process, especially after the death of a loved one. But we can draw inspiration from the teachings of the Buddha, especially about the Four Immeasurables—the cultivation of loving-kindness, compassion, appreciative joy, and equanimity—to work through difficult emotions, counter cognitive distortions, and develop a deeper relationship with our grief over the long term.

View outside the hospital room—there’s always light at the end of the tunnel (September 2023)

When was the last time you talked honestly and openly about grief and death? For many, coping with the death of a loved one can be difficult and painful. In the Singaporean or Asian context, death is often also regarded as taboo, spoken about only in hushed tones, and consigned to the corners of our lives. 

Often, we just can’t, or don’t know how to, or simply don’t wish to confront it, because it’s just too unpleasant to contemplate.

But it’s precisely because grief and death are hard to talk about, that we need to offer it our deep attention and understanding. In the Upajjhatthana Sutta (AN 5.57), the Buddha describes the Five Remembrances, which are recommended for frequent recollection. These facts of life include the truth that we cannot avoid death, and one day we will be separated and parted from all that is dear and beloved to us.

My personal experience of such loss was my father’s struggle with cancer and subsequent passing. In May last year, he collapsed suddenly at home, and had to be rushed by ambulance to hospital. 

At the time, his condition was still unknown, so multiple tests had to be conducted on him while he was still in the high-dependency ward. It was only months later, in August, that he was diagnosed with end-stage bile duct cancer, and it was more severe than anticipated. The doctors estimated that he had only around four weeks left to live (and they would turn out to be right – he had five weeks).

Those final few weeks of my father’s life were a difficult time for me and my family, especially my mother and sister. Every day involved a routine of shuttling between our workplaces, hospital, and home, as hospital visits became a regular part of our lives, and we would take turns to keep my father company. Amidst the sterile smell of antiseptic solution and the periodic beeping of the machines, the constant hum of activity was overwhelming.

I remember navigating a complex web of emotions. Guilt weighed heavily on me during those days spent by his side. I often questioned myself whether I had done enough, and if I could have done more as a son. 

I thought about all the times when my Dad suggested going for overseas trips as a family, like to the Great Wall in Beijing—but I always said I could never find the time. The painful reality was that I had prioritised other aspects of life, like my work, above family time.

Now it would be too late. I’m reminded about how it’s been said that the four saddest words in the English language are “it could have been”. 

But instead of wallowing in guilt and despair, what if we viewed death and grief as valuable opportunities for deeper reflection and personal transformation? After all, over the last few weeks of my father’s life, my family and I had some of our deepest conversations with him—about his memories, our family history, and about the meaning of life and death itself. Amidst the darkness, glimmers of light can still shine through—even in the face of loss, there is still room for shared connection and precious moments of joy.

One way of understanding death and grief is through the Four Immeasurables, or Brahmavihārās. Described by the late Buddhist teacher Ayya Khema as “the only emotions worth having”, the Four Immeasurables offer us a helpful framework to practise developing positive mind states and avoid negative ones. 

By cultivating the Four Immeasurables, we can emulate the mind states of enlightened beings, while sowing the seeds of limitless (and hence ‘immeasurable’) goodwill towards ourselves and others.

Metta: Loving-Kindness

The word ‘loving-kindness’ is interesting. The first half is ‘loving’—and as the late Queen Elizabeth II famously said, grief is the price we pay for love. 

In other words, grief is the natural extension of love, because they are inherently intertwined. Grief reveals itself in the corridors of the pathways we once walked together with our deceased loved ones, in the empty spaces of rooms where they once lived and laughed, and even in the scent of their belongings—like the old books that my father once owned.

Since love entails grief, should we just love less, or even give up on love? Clearly, that’s a misconception, or what psychology would refer to as a cognitive distortion. 

The second half of the word ‘loving-kindness’ holds the clue as to why. The key lies in how we love—when we dwell less on our attachment to our loved ones, we can devote more attention to answering their needs more effectively, and express a deeper level of kindness towards them. The practice of metta itself can inspire such kindness and generosity. As the writer Leo Tolstoy put it, “Kindness enriches our life; with kindness, mysterious things become clear, difficult things become easy, and dull things become cheerful.”

We can show metta to our loved ones in simple ways, even just by spending quality time with them. For instance, I would ask Dad during my visits what he would like to eat, but he had no appetite, and often he felt nauseous. 

He also mentioned he felt cold at night so I brought him a quilt with a sign reading “My Dad”, even though the hospital provided plenty of blankets. To keep my father focused on positive thoughts, my sister and I asked him about his childhood memories, his life as a teacher, his growing-up years, how he met our mother, and what it was like bringing us up.

Every day felt like Tuesdays with Morrie, the 1997 memoir by Mitch Albom about his visits to his terminally ill former college professor. As the poet Philip Larkin once put it: “We should be kind / While there is still time.”

The quilt for my Dad (May 2023)

Just as Dad used to recite lines of poetry to me as a child, so I read and recited poems to him at his bedside as well, such as the poem ‘Invictus’—which is about resilience in the face of adversity. I also shared stories from the newspapers with him. 

At the time, the Singapore presidential elections were ongoing, so I would update him about it too. With my dad, I learnt the value of cherishing every moment with loving-kindness.

Karuna: Compassion

Another valuable mind-state is karuna, or compassion. It’s not about feeling sorry for our loved ones, but about feeling with them, and journeying alongside them for as long as we can.

This journey can be difficult, which entails recognising suffering as an inevitable part of life, and often also fosters a deeper sense of compassion towards others who are also suffering or grieving. We are not alone in our pain.

My dad’s struggle with terminal cancer was undoubtedly painful. Each day, as I pored through the lists displayed by the hospital staff describing pumps, tubes, vials, injections, pills, and wipes, I couldn’t help but think about mortality, vulnerability, and frailty — in the end, it all came down to this. 

It was the first Noble Truth staring at me in the face. The fear and uncertainty that accompanied such terminal illness were paralysing. Every morning, I would wonder whether the doctors would bring worse news, or if that very day might be my dad’s last.

Dying people also sometimes make strange sounds—in my father’s case, especially towards the last few days, it was a kind of dry gasping and rasping. I remember one particular night when the pain from the cancer was particularly unbearable, and his face would be contorted with grimaces of pain. 

Witnessing someone you love endure such physical suffering is heart-wrenching, to say the least, and it leaves an indelible mark of sorrow.

But this is when the Dharma provides the timeliest of medicines. By acknowledging suffering rather than pushing it away, we can discover a wellspring of strength within ourselves. After the hospital administered painkillers for my father each day, my family and I would also chant at his bedside, including the name of Amitabha Buddha (Namo Amituofo), mantras (like om mani padme hum), and the Heart Sutra (Xin Jing, also known as the Prajna Paramita Hridaya Sutra). As we dedicated the merits of such recitations to him, he would noticeably breathe more easily and sleep more peacefully.

As a friend advised—and as medical professionals also affirm—the sense of touch is usually one of the last faculties to go. As my father drifted off to sleep each evening, I would often hold his hand, providing not just physical but also emotional and spiritual warmth.

A loving touch, fuelled by tenderness, offers not just a sense of connection but also serves as a balm from pain.

Besides showing compassion towards our loved ones and others, we mustn’t forget to be compassionate to ourselves too. Caregiver burnout is a real danger, and it’s crucial to remember that while we may feel consumed by grief, we must also prioritise our own well-being. 

The Buddhist teacher Mushim Patricia Ikeda has formulated a “Great Vow for Mindful Activists”: “I promise, for the benefit of all, to practice self-care, mindfulness, healing, and joy. I vow to not burn out.” Taking time for ourselves is not selfish but necessary for healing. Whether it’s seeking support from friends and family, or engaging in activities that bring us joy, self-care allows us to replenish our energy and find solace amidst sorrow.

Mudita: Appreciative Joy

Losing a loved one is a painful experience. Losing a parent, in particular, brings an added dimension of loss: their departure represents the closing of a chapter in our lives. Parents are usually the source of guidance and support for us—their presence symbolises a sense of stability, security, and belonging.

With their passing, we may feel lost, unmoored, and unanchored, with all the childhood memories and family traditions associated with them also threatened by loss.

But what if we transformed this mindset of feeling fearful and threatened into a more positive mind state of being grateful and appreciative? Mudita, or appreciative joy, reminds us that we can choose to focus not on fear or regret but rather on existing opportunities for gratitude.

I’m reminded of Ajahn Brahm’s oft-shared story in Opening the Door of Your Heart about how a life is like a musical concert—we should applaud at the end rather than grieving that it has concluded.

In the case of my father, I was deeply inspired by his sheer emotional strength. Despite everything he went through—treatments, operations, and long hospital stays—he never allowed himself to become consumed by despair.

He demonstrated what true grit looks like, and he imparted valuable lessons about finding strength within ourselves during life’s most challenging moments.

Devoting time to cultivate appreciative joy can be deeply cathartic. On the afternoon of my father’s passing, my family and I had a “Showers of Love” ceremony, during which we had the opportunity to clean and dress my Dad’s body for the last time. It was like a sacrament and a blessing—a final act of service to convey our gratitude to him, and bid him farewell. 

Together with my mother and sister, we helped my Dad to put on his favourite suit before we laid him in the casket.

As I said in my eulogy for him at the crematorium, it’s just like the words of Shakespeare—“the wheel is come full circle”. The whole service was personal, heartfelt, and deeply meaningful.

Dad also specifically said to thank the medical team at National University Hospital who supported us closely over those final few months. That’s exactly what my family and I did: we personally delivered appreciation cards and a gift basket to the hospital staff.

Writing a long appreciation email to them was also a way to pay tribute to their dedication and support. In addition, we put up a five-star Google review for the funeral company (The Life Celebrant), as they bestowed a meaningful and dignified farewell for my father. Such gestures not only honoured my Dad’s wishes, but also cultivated appreciative joy for all who helped to support him during the challenging period of his final days.

The garden at the hospital (May 2023)

Upekkha: Equanimity

Grief and death can offer valuable lessons about the nature of life itself. Developing upekkha, or equanimity, can help us to find peace and cultivate gratitude for the present moment. My father’s experience showed me that accepting impermanence doesn’t mean giving up hope or resigning oneself to despair.

Rather, it means acknowledging reality while still nurturing a firm optimism and resilience that can inspire others.

By embracing impermanence, we can cultivate a deeper appreciation for the preciousness of life, especially of a life in which we have the opportunity to encounter the Dharma. We learn to cherish every interaction, every smile shared with our loved ones, and the beauty of every fleeting moment, precisely because we understand that “all conditioned phenomena are impermanent” (Dhammapada, verse 277).

I’m reminded of a talk, years ago when I was an undergraduate, given by a medical doctor who was a featured speaker during the Dharma Camp organised by the National University of Singapore (NUS) Buddhist Society.

As he observed, when we die, we usually don’t die all at once—instead, we die in bits and pieces. The eyes or other faculties might first weaken, and then the major organs go one by one, until finally, it’s the heart or lungs that cease to function, and then breathing itself gives way. 

The piecemeal nature of the dying process prompts the question: where is the self? However hard we might try to locate or isolate this aspect of ‘me’ or ‘mine’, we find that the self ultimately dissolves.

There’s no solid or stable self that can persist or endure no matter how hard we attempt to grasp it.

Similarly, the Soto Zen priest Tenku Ruff describes grief not as a thing in itself but as a process or continuum that unfolds at a pace of its own. There is no single right way to grieve. We can give ourselves permission to experience our grief without judgment or self-criticism.

Based on our respective situations, we can find out for ourselves what works best, such that we can hold space for healing and honour the memory of our loved ones.

Rituals can be particularly helpful to cope with grief. In the Chinese Buddhist tradition that my family and I practise, we chanted sutras and mantras, and dedicated merits to my father every seven days, starting from the day of his passing.

We also commemorated the 100th day since his death, which happened to fall exactly on 1 January this year. It was a touching tribute that allowed me and the family to process our own emotions while paying homage to my Dad’s legacy.

As the palliative care physician Ira Byock suggested in Dying Well, the suffering of dying can be alleviated through deathbed rituals that are designed to promote forgiveness. The dying can be encouraged to engage in the following five steps, summarised as: “Forgive me. I forgive you. Thank you. I love you. And goodbye.”

Imagine if we don’t have to be on our deathbeds before we engage in such rituals. What the Dharma teaches us is how to attend to our grief, just as we can be mindful of our breath during sitting meditation. Instead of resisting our feelings, we can pay attention to our sorrow, loneliness, and the whole myriad of complex human emotions that arise from the experience of loss. We can observe these feelings with kindness and wisdom, before we open our hearts, and let them go. 

I’m sure my Dad would have approved.

Wise Steps:

  1. Treasure precious opportunities to connect with our loved ones while they are still around, especially by spending quality time with them.
  2. Engage in meaningful rituals with the right intention, whether in terms of deathbed rituals that promote forgiveness, or chanting practices that can help to dedicate merits to our departed loved ones.
  3. Practise mindfulness, including of our own grief, and seek support from friends or family who can provide support and guidance when navigating through difficult emotions.

Helpful Resources

References

Albom, M. (1997). Tuesdays with Morrie: An Old Man, a Young Man, and Life’s Greatest Lesson. Doubleday.

Brahm, A. (2009). Opening the Door of Your Heart: And Other Buddhist Tales of Happiness. Hachette Australia.

Byock, I. (1997). Dying Well: Peace and Possibilities at the End of Life. Riverhead Books.

Ikeda, M. P. (2023, November 20). I Vow Not to Burn Out. Lion’s Roar. Retrieved from https://www.lionsroar.com/i-vow-not-to-burn-out

Larkin, P. (2001). The Mower. Collected Poems. Farrar Straus and Giroux.

Lion’s Roar Staff. (2019, November 19). What Are the Four Brahmaviharas? Lion’s Roar. Retrieved from https://www.lionsroar.com/what-are-the-four-brahmaviharas

Popova, M. (2019, July 21). Leo Tolstoy on Kindness and the Measure of Love. The Marginalian. Retrieved from https://www.themarginalian.org/2019/07/21/leo-tolstoy-kindness-calendar-of-wisdom

Wade, B.; Ruff, T., & Damchö, D.F. (2021, October 1). Ask the Teachers: How Can the Dharma Help Us to Work Through Grief? Lion’s Roar. Retrieved from https://www.lionsroar.com/ask-the-teachers-how-can-the-dharma-help-us-to-work-through-grief

Barbie & Buddha: 6 Dhamma moments you might have missed in Barbie

Barbie & Buddha: 6 Dhamma moments you might have missed in Barbie

by | Aug 23, 2023 | Movies, music, books,, Read

TLDR: Barbie embarks on a cinematic adventure echoing Buddha’s path, delving into suffering, change, and the journey to inner peace.

In the 2023 release of “Barbie”, the iconic doll embarks on a journey that resonates with Buddha’s own journey and his teachings. From the concept of suffering to non-self, impermanence, and overcoming ignorance, the film subtly presents these themes in a relatable way. 

Lead actress Margot Robbie shares that the movie is ‘kind of like the Buddha’s journey to enlightenment, is the journey that Barbie should go on’ 

Here are 6 moments you might have missed while looking at Ken’s abs or hearing truth bombs at the end of the movie.

*Obvious Spoiler Alerts*

A blend of Buddha & Barbie
Cr: Google Images

#1 From Barbieland to Buddha: An Unexpected Journey

The film begins in a utopia called Barbieland, where Barbies live a life of blissful ignorance. Similar to the story of Siddhartha Gautama, the historical Buddha, Barbie’s world is picture-perfect. 

However, a burning query about mortality during a disco party shatters this illusion, propelling her on a journey beyond the confines of her plastic paradise.

“Do you ever think about dying?” – Barbie

This pivotal question echoes the Buddha’s exploration of life beyond the protected walls of his royal existence, where he encountered sickness, old age, and death. Buddha shares his realisation neatly in this sutta about old age.

“Why this laughter, why this joy, when the world is constantly burning, why, when enveloped by darkness, do you not seek for a light?” Dhammapada 146

#2 It does not last

Barbie’s perfect routine of waking up fresh, getting fake fresh milk, and having heels start to fall apart when the human-to-doll connection darkens. She starts to experience ageing and even bodily pains (anyone in their late 20s and beyond put your hands up?)

“Every day is the best day ever, and every night is girls’ night, from now until FOREVER!” – Barbie

Barbie’s ‘permanence’ narrative falls apart faster as she ventures beyond the plastic world (she tries to choose ignorance by opting for the pretty shoe instead of Birkenstock, but obviously takes the Birks upon intense nudging)

Barbie: “I never wanted anything to change!”

Gloria: “Oh honey, that’s life, it is all change”

This echoes what Buddha talked about change as one of the 3 sufferings that all beings experience in his First Noble Truth. Buddha shares that suffering can be caused by:

1) Pain (Dukkha Dukkha) experienced when spraining your ankle. 

2) Mental formations (Sankhara Dukkha) experienced when you think/ judge/angst over what should/shouldn’t be done when spraining the ankle and how unfair it is to have it sprained before your wedding

3) Change (Vaparinama Dukkha) is experienced when we do not want things to change and it changes anyway. It is the painful craving of being unable to control permanence.

You can read a nifty article about it here!

#3 Ken’s Identity Crisis & realisation of non-self (sort of)

Ken’s struggle with his identity mirrors the Buddhist teaching of attachment to self. This attachment, according to Zen Master Thich Nhat Hanh, often leads to suffering. Ken’s journey reflects the Buddhist understanding of non-self and interconnectedness.

“Who am I if I am not Ken?”

This crisis of identity and the eventual acceptance of his intrinsic worth without attaching to a particular identity reflects the Buddhist teaching of letting go of attachment to self to alleviate suffering. 

The moment Ken realises he doesn’t need to be tethered to the idea of ‘Barbie & Ken’ but just ‘Ken’ unlocks his attachment to control. He can finally be himself.

Of course, the film doesn’t delve deeper into Non-self. I can’t imagine moviegoers going through the teaching of non-self in a light-hearted movie. 

Buddha expounds non-self through a series of questions to the five disciples. Here is one line of questioning for us to understand a glimpse of nonself. 

In this example, he questions that if we had a real, full self, we would be able to command it. Failing which, how can we call this ‘me’? You can read the deep sutta here. Definitely deeper than Ken’s realisation.

“Bhikkhus, form (body) is not-self. Were form self, then this form would not lead to affliction, and one could have it of form: ‘Let my form be thus, let my form be not thus.’ And since form is not-self, so it leads to affliction, and none can have it of form: ‘Let my form be thus, let my form be not thus.” – Buddha

#4 Placing your happiness in others

Barbie has a great day every day, but Ken only has a great day if Barbie looks at him. -Narrator 

Ken waits for Barbie to notice him and feels awful when it doesn’t happen. He is even jealous of other Kens who get her attention. We see this evolve into toxicity as Ken builds his entire actions based on pleasing one lady.

The act of placing all of our happiness in one person who is subjected to change, ageing, sickness, and death sets us up for future unhappiness. 

The Buddha encouraged us to seek within and not without for contentment. Noting that the world is ultimately unreliable. (How many bestest of friends have we lost since we ventured into the work-life?)

To cultivate stillness and peace alongside our  Kalyana Mittas (Spiritual friends) is ideal as one slowly becomes at peace in the presence of oneself. With no one to prove.

“Searching all directions with one’s awareness,

one finds no one dearer than oneself.

In the same way, others are dear to themselves.

So one should not hurt others if one loves oneself.”

Udana 5.1

To be Ken-ough!

#5 Unmasking the Real World: Suffering Unveiled

Stepping into the real world, Barbie’s journey becomes an awakening. She confronts suffering, particularly as a woman, as she experiences sexual harassment and criticism for creating unrealistic standards of beauty. This is a reflection of the first of the four noble truths in Buddhism – the existence of suffering. The world is not satisfactory

Ruth Handler, the real-life inventor of Barbie and co-founder of Mattel, serves as a mentor in the movie. She educates Barbie about suffering and the human experience, mirroring the role of a Buddhist teacher guiding disciples through the path of wisdom.

“The world is full of suffering. That’s part of being human.” – Ruth Handler

Of course, it is bleak if we stop there. If suffering is part of being human and we couldn’t do anything about it…we will all be pretty sad creatures scampering across our lives.

Zen master, Thich Nhat Hanh, shares that we shouldn’t fear suffering but rather fear that we do not have the methods to deal with suffering. The Buddha’s 8 fold path is one superb way of dealing with suffering. We just need to apply it.

“We try to transform suffering into something good. Even a lotus flower needs mud in order to grow. It can’t grow on marble. You have to recognize that there is a close connection between suffering and happiness. If you run away from suffering, you cannot find happiness. On the contrary, we should try to identify the roots of our suffering. Only then can we gain understanding and cultivate compassion.” – Thich Nhat Hanh

#6 Feel to Heal: Embracing Emotions

One of the most poignant moments in the film is when Ruth encourages Barbie to feel. This invitation to experience all emotions, including pain, resonates with the Buddhist practice of mindfulness, wherein one is encouraged to fully experience one’s emotions without judgment or aversion.

This reminded me of Buddhist teacher Tara Brach’s RAIN meditation method. This method encourages us to feel the difficult emotions in our lives in a mindful way.

You may read more about it here and try it in the article as well!

Conclusion

“Barbie” (2023) takes viewers on a journey of self-discovery, suffering, transformation, and enlightenment, mirroring the teachings of Buddhism. Through its characters and narrative, the film encourages viewers to reflect on their own understanding of life, happiness, and self, embracing the impermanence of life and the journey towards self-realisation.

Wise Steps:

  • Reflect on how we can find Dhamma moments in our entertainment; there are opportunities to tie Dhamma to the drama we consume
  • Where are we putting our happiness right now? Is it mostly external? Or the internal?

Why I Don’t Really Exist And Why That’s Totally Fine

Why I Don’t Really Exist And Why That’s Totally Fine

by | Jul 2, 2021 | Read

TLDR: We all think we are the master of our surroundings and of ourselves. But on closer look, we have little control over our human experience including nature. When we see the limits we have in our thoughts, speech and action, we learn to live in harmony with the Dhamma and let go of the self.

Most religions in the world teach the letting go of the ego. If it doesn’t, it may not be a spiritual practice. A spiritual practice is an exercise of the mind, which is also referred to as consciousness. Consciousness has not been a focus of scientific research due to it being immaterial. 

However, religions have tackled the mystery of consciousness, what it is and how it arises. After all, if you are not conscious you will not be aware there is a you who is experiencing happiness, sadness or pleasures, or reading this article. You will not be aware of your free will if you aren’t conscious that you can make a choice.

But, if everyone shares this awareness without differentiation, do ‘I’ as a person really exist? 

The Human Experience

In contrast to other religions that seek to find the self, the Buddha taught what is not self. What did he mean by not self?

The most important of the teaching of not self is found in the Anattalakkhana Sutta. It was the second discourse the Buddha taught to his first five disciples. In this discourse, the Buddha broke down the human experience into five parts. They are – the body, feelings, perception (memory and recognition), mental formations (thoughts) and consciousness (sense consciousness). These five parts the Buddha referred to as the five aggregates or five heaps. He named them heaps because these five parts need to be heaped together to create a personal identity (ego). But as it is a heap of things, they are easily collapsible. How so?

The body is the most obvious thing we identify ourselves with. The Buddha asked his first disciples if the body is permanent or impermanent? They answered it is impermanent. He then asked if it is happiness or suffering? They answered suffering. Why did the disciples say it is suffering? The Buddha stated if we truly own this body, we can tell it not to grow old, fall sick or to die. But we can’t. The body doesn’t listen to our needs and wants and causes suffering.

The same goes for feelings. If we truly own our feelings, we can tell it to always be happy. But instead we seek pleasures to keep up with good feelings. But the effort to find pleasures or pursuits one after another is tiring. Instead of being owners of our feelings, we are actually serving them. 

The same applies to our perception.

Can you decide not to dislike a person you recognise to be irritating? Can you drop the memory of having had a bad experience in a restaurant? Both the recognition of an irritating person and memory of a bad experience causes unpleasant feelings.

Unfortunately most of us can’t help being identified with our perceptions and therefore we are also not owners of our perception.

When it comes to thoughts, it is obvious that most of us cannot control our thoughts. It thinks mean things and good things as it wants to based on our perception and feelings. 

What about our sense consciousness? Our everyday consciousness is associated with our senses such as the eye, ears, nose, tongue, touch and thinking mind. Imagine yourself having a peaceful time reading in your room. From outside your window, you hear a woman shouting. Will you be unaffected by the shouting and refrain from looking out of the window to see what is happening? Are you able to tear yourself from seeking to be occupied with your senses when there is nothing to do? Don’t we seek sense contact all the time with food, Netflix to podcasts? The mind is a sense contact in Buddhism because it comes into contact with the world of ideas. 

The five aggregates are all linked and our human experiences and are constantly changing. With the advent of technology, it seems we are finding it harder to maintain a sense of rest with these five aggregates. Why? Because we are  continuously bombarded with sense stimuli without our mastery over them.

If we are able to master our perception, it would change our feelings and thoughts. Changing our feelings and thoughts from unfriendly to friendly ones reduce stress in the body. When the body suffers, the mind also suffers less if we are able to change how we experience the aggregates.

Are You Beyond The Dhamma?

The Dhamma means many things in Buddhism. It includes the entire teaching of the Buddha-from impermanence to nibbana. Generally, the Dhamma refers to the law of nature and of the mind.

We all know the laws of nature from gravity to special relativity. But when it comes to the law of the mind and actions, we are completely lost. 

But why should we be bothered with the law of the mind and our actions? Why bother with spiritual exercises such as meditation and mindfulness for the mind? 

In our everyday experience, we go about our lives feeling like we are different and apart from nature (flora and fauna). However, the laws that govern nature apply to us too. Like our environment and the animals on this planet, we have no lasting bodies. Although we humans think we are masters of our nature, we are not because we cannot overcome change or decay. It seems the more we try to conquer nature, the more nature reacts with unpleasant changes such as drought, heatwave and famine.

Also, if we truly are our own master and self, we would not experience the limits of our thoughts and actions. For example, we cannot think about a beloved person non-stop. We are also unable to keep eating our favourite food or watch the same film numerous times. It makes us feel mentally sick when we become obsessive or indulge in something. When we refrain from acting at all it also makes us feel restless.

Speaking and acting in untruthful ways also hurt our being. Some people are unable to sleep well after committing a crime. Some feel a burden in the heart after telling a lie. There is that guilt that weighs in the body, when it performs untruthful speech and action. For some who bury this guilt, they may find that pain develops in certain parts of the body. We all know how stress and anxiety produce symptoms from high blood pressure, pain in the shoulders to irritable bowel syndrome.

For those who notice their limits in thoughts, speech and behaviour,because it brings distress or dissatisfaction, seek to find an answer. But many people don’t notice these things because there are many ways we can get help from these maladies. We may go to doctors repeatedly or find ways to distract ourselves despite still suffering distress internally.

What To Do After Discovering Our Limits?

From the above examples, we can clearly see we are no masters at all. We are not masters of our human experience, or are we the master of nature. We are limited by the boundaries of physical and mental laws.

Does realising these limitations and seeing there is no substantial self who is a master of anything cause depression? On the contrary, no. Seeing the reality that we aren’t anyone at all brings joy because there is no more burden to maintain an ego or a self. We are free to let go, to change and choose habits that are different from the ego we thought is the self. It is the false belief of an ego that has caused much suffering in this world – from depression to numerous wars and tragedies.

Understanding that we are not beyond the Dhamma teaches us to live according to the laws of nature. Lay Buddhists follow the five precepts given by the Buddha as a way of learning to live within the Dhamma.

We usually do not like laws and restrictions. But rather than seeing it as a law, think of it as learning to live in harmony with ourselves and our surroundings.

The five precepts itself are not so much a not-to-do list. But rather, it is training the mind to be aware whenever we act unskillfully against the Dhamma to cause ourselves suffering.

Wise Steps:

  • Take a pause and notice if you are always seeking to fulfil your senses with sense contact such as entertaining your eyes, ears or mind. If you can’t take a pause from sense pleasures, are you serving your senses or are you a master of your senses?
  • Before going to bed, reflect on your day. Have you said or acted truthful or untruthfully? How does it affect your mind and heart?
  • Observe your feelings or sensations in your body. Are you able to master pain, discomfort or unpleasant feelings to change them into something manageable or pleasant? Are you a master or a servant to your feelings and body?