A bird in flight is a beautiful thing, but a caged bird loses its beauty. Such is desire; when we try to maintain our attachment to objects of impermanence, we suffer when those objects change, die, or leave us. We all have desires; they’re part of being human. Daoism, Hinduism, and Buddhism all would agree that certain types of desires are a hindrance to enlightenment. Desire causes attachment, which is a roadblock to enlightenment because Enlightenment requires total detachment.
Buddhism believes in the Four Noble Truths. First, suffering is a fact of life. Second, there is a cause for this disease called suffering. Third, there is a way to cure this disease. Fourth, that way can be followed through the adherence to the eight-fold path, which basically lays down a moral code. The second Noble Truth says that desire is part of the root of all dukkha, or suffering. The reason for this is because desire and craving for material goods, pleasure, and immortality can never be entirely fulfilled. The inability to fulfill these desires causes disappointment, suffering, anger, violence, and all the other ills of the world.
The analogy of Buddha as a doctor for the ills of the world fits hand in hand with desire as the “supreme disease” (Dhammapada, verse 203). In the Dhammapada, there is an analogy that says that the rain of desire encourages the growth of the grass of sorrow (verse 335). A good example of this is how desire for someone else’s possessions can cause envy, which leads to resentment and anger, which can lead to violence or oppression. To eliminate desire, one must meditate frequently to sever attachments to the physical world. In the same way that rain breaks into a house with a bad roof, “desire breaks into the mind that has not been practicing meditation” (Dhammapada, 13).
Taoism’s stance on desire is less concrete than that of Buddhism. The Daodejing uses paradoxes that allow us to interpret them in different ways. With Taoism, everybody can find a meaning that is relevant to their own lives. For example, the Daodejing tells us to “always eliminate desires in order to observe its mysteries,” yet at the same time, we are told to “always have desires in order to observe its manifestations” (159). I think that this paradox shows us that it is not possible to eliminate all desires, but we should be aware of them, and choose which ones are harmful and which ones are helpful. For example the Daodejing singles out one type of desire when it says that “the worst calamity is the desire to acquire” (182). This desire is similar to the detrimental desires that Buddhism speaks of. The attachment to impermanent, worldly objects will ultimately stray us away from true knowledge. In acknowledgement of the various types of desire, the Daodejing instructs the reader to “make few of your desires” (168). That is to say, do not eliminate your desire to follow the way, just do away with the desires to acquire and make profit. Taoists know that “real profit is invisible.” This is why Taoist sage renounces casts off whatever is “extreme, extravagant, or excessive.”
Upanishadic thought would have us believe that not all desires are injurious. In fact, there must be a desire in order to achieve enlightenment. If we truly had no desires, then what would motivate us to do anything but aimlessly sit around? Hinduism believes that “a person is what his deep desire is. It is our deepest desire in this life that shapes the life to come. So let us direct our deepest desires to realize the Self” (Chandogya Upanishad). In this way, desire is not rejected, but directed in such a way that it becomes conducive to self-realization. To Hindus, the desire to know Brahman is not a desire at all. Movement towards the Self is not the growth of a desire, but the process of the cessation of desire.
This belief is quite contradictory to Buddhist thought, which says that belief in the Self is ultimately a delusion, and leads to suffering because it is in fact the cause of desires, thoughts of “me”, selfish desire, craving, attachments, hate, pride, and all the other ailments of the world. Buddhism also says that there is no satisfying the senses, “not even with a shower of money”. When a wise man has realized this, he takes no pleasure, even in the pleasures of heaven. Instead he takes pleasure in the elimination of craving.
In the Upanishads, it says “He who desires desirable things and broods upon them is born again because of that desire.” The belief is that Desire prevents enlightenment because it keeps us trapped in Samsara, or the cycle of birth and death. The Bhagavad-Gita says that desire is the source of attachment to the world and the great impediment to spiritual freedom. When one renounces his or her desires and acts without craving, possessiveness, or individuality, he or she finds peace. In the Katha Upanishad, the personified death says that those who lack discrimination, with little control over their thoughts and far from pure, reach not the pure state of immortality but wander from death to death. The cause for this recycling of the soul is that in the afterlife, we still have the urge to fulfill the desires that we had when we died. So, we are reborn, and we will continue to have these desires for impermanent, worldly things until we learn to renounce them.
Buddhism would agree with Hinduism in that if we die before we renounce our desires, we will again be reborn. In Teachings of the Compassionate Buddha, it is said that “If your mind is altogether free [from desire], you will not again enter into birth and decay.” Buddhism believes that will, volition, and desire all exist after we pass over to death, and that these energies will manifest themselves into a newborn when we are reincarnated.
What if we were bereft of all of our physical senses? We would have only mind and its thoughts. To Buddhists, the mind is just another organ that experiences sense objects. A consciousness of the mind is not like visual or tactile consciousness. For example, I can see and feel a book lying on a table, and so can someone else. Both of us can experience these forms of consciousness. Consciousness of the mind, however, is much more intangible. In order for another person to know the thoughts that I am thinking, it is necessary to verbally communicate them. Abstract, meaningless symbols (words) are given meaning in order to verbally relay our thoughts to each other. Since there is no external source where thoughts originate, where do they come from? This question is one of the many that supports the argument for a higher consciousness.
In the Katha Upanishad, it says “that through which one enjoys form, taste, smell, sound, touch, and sexual union is the self.” The Upanishads view the Self, or Atman, as the higher consciousness that is the essential core of our being. The self takes on the shape of whatever being it is manifested in. It is neither body nor mind. To help us understand this, the Upanishads devised a hierarchy of the Self. First, there are the senses. Then, there is the mind. Next comes the Intellect, then Ego. Above ego is Atman, and finally at the top is Brahman, the all-pervading unified consciousness of the universe. To become enlightened, we must realize that we as individuals (Atman) are truly Brahman. This is called self-realization; it is the state in which we are inseparable from everything in the universe. In this state we realize that the dualities on earth are just illusions, causing us to believe that there is separation in the universe. In the Bhagavad-Gita, Krishna tells Arjuna that the every being, living or not, is part of the Self, whom never was born and will never die. Those who think that they can kill or can be killed are mistaken, because they are part of the Self. According to Krishna, death is like “a man who discards worn out clothes to put on new and different ones.” The embodied Self “discards its worn-out bodies to take on other new ones.”
Buddhists criticize the Self as being the cause of egotism. But in the Upanishads, it is stated that there are two separate selves. One is the ego, the source of “I, me, mine.” The other is Atman, the indivisible. Buddhists argue that because we are only a collection of five aggregates, there is no unchanging part of us, therefore there is no self. At first this is confusing, and it provokes questions such as, “If I have no self, how can I achieve enlightenment? How can I even call myself “me” if I don’t exist?” This paradox is explained through conventional and ultimate truth. Conventionally, we use words such as “I,” “you,” “individual,” “being,” etc. But ultimately, there is no self in existence; we are only a collection of the various changing elements of ourselves. The first is the aggregate of matter. Encompassing all things physical, this aggregate includes all five sense-organs and their corresponding sense-objects. The second is the aggregate of sensations. Pleasant and unpleasant, all senses are known through the mind, which should be noted that it is considered just another physical sense organ. The third is the aggregate of perceptions. Perception merely recognizes objects as either physical or mental. The fourth aggregate is that of Mental Formations. This component entails all of the conscious decisions and thoughts, and enters into the realm of Karma. The fifth and final aggregate is the Aggregate of Consciousness. Each of the six internal faculties has a consciousness. For example, when we see an apple, visual consciousness arises, but at this stage, there is no recognition. Recognition belongs to the Aggregate of Perception.
To defend his argument of the non-existence of a higher self, the Buddha explains that without conditions, consciousness cannot arise. Without visual stimuli, visual consciousness would not exist. Similarly, without thought objects, consciousness of the mind would not exist. Therefore, consciousness depends on matter, sensation, perception, and mental formations and it cannot exist without these five aggregates. And because the five aggregates are constantly changing, there is no higher consciousness which is exterior from our physical selves.
The Buddha was confident that the search for metaphysical answers was fruitless and disadvantageous in the pursuit of edification. The reason for this is that the assertion of any theory about something that cannot be verified will provoke counter-theories, resulting in contentious dispute. Argument is not conducive to compassion, so sticky issues like the nature of the universe are avoided. Buddhism is concerned solely with issues of our physical existence on earth, and how we can tread the path to Nirvana. The way that Buddhism shows us this path is through the eight-fold path, and various other doctrines of conduct.
One of these doctrines is a type of moral code that one must follow in order to achieve Nirvana. According to the Buddha, this code is a guideline that will help us on our way to enlightenment.
Abstain from intentionally harming living beings.
Abstain from taking what is not given.
Abstain from sexual misconduct.
Abstain from lying & unkind speech.
Abstain from intoxicating drinks and drugs.
Although this code is moral in nature, it was created by observing the effects of Karma. Karma is not moral justice or reward and punishment. Rather, it is a natural law that can be observed. Every action and thought we have exerts energy in the universe that will eventually come back to us by way of cause and effect. “Good” actions produce good effects, while “bad” actions produce bad effects Good and bad are in quotes because they are relative. Generally, good actions bring happiness and peace, and bad actions produce suffering. Therefore, the Buddhist moral code is based on what will bring ourselves and others happiness and eventual enlightenment.
Similarly, the Taoists act in a way that brings happiness and eventual enlightenment: simply and congruently with the course of nature. To act in accordance with the Way of nature, one does not force anything, because it comes naturally. This way of living is called wu-wei, or non-action. True wu-wei is the most efficient action possible, the most spontaneous and often the most creative action. In the Daodejing, there is a verse that paradoxically illustrates this concept.
The master does nothing,
Yet he leaves nothing undone.
The ordinary man is always doing things,
Yet many things are left to be done…
Living through wu-wei does not mean being lazy and sloth-like; it means exerting as little effort as possible to yield the most effective and productive outcome. When one flows with the Way, one has no need to exert a conscious effort to do anything; it just happens. Actions come through intuition, not by calculation and cogitation. Wu-wei is effortless action without intrusive, contentious, or arrogant exertion. By living through wu-wei, we let our actions effortlessly flow, and we align in harmony with the Tao.
The Hindu reaction to inaction can be found within the pages of the Bhagavad-Gita, when Krishna tells Arjuna that no one exists for even an instant without performing action. At first, this seems to be an attack on Taoism. But later in the Gita, Krishna says that by always performing action with detachment, one achieves supreme good. If the Bhagavad-Gita is an attack on Taoism, then it must have been a misunderstanding because the Taoist who performs inaction does so without attachment as well. By not consciously exerting effort, the Taoist is detached from the action and detached from the outcome of the action.
Taoism embraces non-attachment because the pursuit of it allows us to be in harmony with the Way and flow with nature. An analogy that demonstrates this concept is how the Tao flows like a river. If we grab on to rocks and branches, this prevent us from flowing in accordance with the river. Similarly, attachment to earthly goods and pleasures prevents us from flowing in accordance with the Tao. The implication of this “go with the flow” lifestyle is the non-existence of morality. The Daodejing says “exterminate benevolence, discard rectitude, and the people will again be filial…” By realizing that everything is relative, and that there is no right or wrong, we will naturally respect the views and feelings of others.
The American Heritage dictionary defines relativity as a “state of dependence in which the existence or significance of one entity is solely dependent on that of another.” Both Buddhists and Taoists agree that everything is relative. Buddha once said, “Everything is like a link connecting itself with another link.” The significance of one link depends on its relation to the other. In Zhuangzi’s story of the gourds, a theme of relativity is illustrated. One day, Hui Tzu smashed several large gourds because they were too big to be used as dippers or water jugs. Chang Tzu pointed out that he could have used them as buoys to float around the rivers and lakes instead of worrying that they were too big to dip into things. This parable exemplifies the reoccurring Taoist theme of relativity. Hui Tzu didn’t consider using the gourds for anything other than their traditional purposes. The moral is that there is no designated function for a gourd; the only reason it’s a gourd is because we choose that designation. Taoism would tell us that there is no designated purpose for anything, nor is there right and wrong. To the Taoist, everything is relative.
At the same time when Lao Tzu and his followers developed Taoism, the same philosophies were coincidentally being developed in Greece by a man named Heraclitus of Ephesus. His views of the world were remarkably similar to those of Taoism; he believed that everything flows and that all changes are cyclic. He compared the nature of the universe was like “an ever-living fire, kindling in measures and going out in measures,” an image which is evokes the Chinese idea of the Tao manifesting itself in the cyclic interchange of yin and yang. When I learned of Heraclitus, I realized that I too, was limiting my perspectives of Taoism because I thought that Taoism was strictly a Chinese idea. Repeatedly throughout the Daodejing, it is repeated that the way is “forever nameless”. The Way is universal. One can call it by any name, but it will always remain the same concept.
This concept is similarly expressed in Buddhism. Buddhists believe that by putting a label on something, we are hindering the independent understanding of that something’s truth. Labels only produce prejudice in peoples’ minds. As Shakespeare once said, “a rose by any other name would smell just as sweet.” Labeling things encourages stereotypes, because an idea about an object is conveyed with its name, and this can lead people to believe false notions about that object. If a certain spiritual path leads us to enlightenment, does it matter what that path is called?
Nirvana, Self-realization, and Enlightenment all describe similar concepts. Although each school of thought has its own term for enlightenment, they all have the belief that there is some sort of awakening that occurs to those who are disciplined enough to achieve it. They all believe that this state of awakening transcends reality, and that it cannot be described through the limitations of language.
Self-realization allows us to transcend the dualities and polar opposites of the world. Once we realize the Self, we realize that the dualities of our existence are simply illusions, and that in reality, everything is unified in Brahman. In the Upanishads, self-realization is said not to come through logic and scholarship, but from a “close association with a realized teacher.” In order to find the answers to life’s questions, we must learn from someone who has already found them. According to Upanishadic thought, intellect alone cannot reveal the mysteries of life and the truth of the Self. Only through spiritual osmosis can a student be helped by an illumined teacher into realizing the Self.
Unlike Hinduism, Buddhists believe that the knowledge required to tread the path to enlightenment resides within us. As the Buddha once said to his disciples, “Do not accept what you hear by report, do not accept tradition, do not accept a statement because it is found in our books, nor because it is the saying of your teacher. Be ye lamps unto yourselves…” No god or goddess could be counted on, not even the Buddha himself. “When I am gone,” he told his followers, “don’t bother to pray to me. For when I am gone, I am gone.” The Buddha insisted that wisdom can not be taught. Wisdom is only arrived at through experience. On every question, direct, personal experience was the final test for truth. A true Buddhist disciple must know for him and herself.
For a Taoist, the objective of human existence is to attain and maintain harmony with the Tao. When this harmony is reached, enlightenment has been achieved. When one lives in harmony with the Tao, then one’s desires and impulses are balanced and harmonious and fulfill their natural function as expressions of the positive, creative, and constructive nature of the universe. One who has achieved enlightenment is referred to as a sage. Sages approach life with openness, and they act with tranquility and simplicity. They lack arrogance, do not discriminate between opposites and are indifferent to worldly affairs.
The Taoists saw all changes in nature as manifestations of the dynamic interplay between the polar opposites yin and yang. For the Western mind, this idea of the implicit unity of all opposites is extremely difficult to accept. From the notion that the movements of the Tao are a continuous interplay between opposites, the Taoists deduced two basic rules for human conduct. Whenever you want to achieve anything, they said, you should start with its opposite. Thus, the Daodejing says:
In order to contract a thing, one should surely expand it first.
In order to weaken, one will surely strengthen first.
In order to overthrow, one will surely exalt first.
In order to take, one will surely give first.
On the other hand, whenever you want to retain anything, you should admit in it something of its opposite:
Be bent, and you will remain straight.
Be vacant, and you will remain full.
Be worn, and you will remain new.
This is the way of life of the sage who has reached a higher point of view, a perspective from which the relativity and polar relationship of all opposites are clearly perceived. These opposites include, first and foremost, the concepts of good and bad which are interrelated in the same way as yin and yang. Recognizing the relativity of good and bad, and thus of all moral standards, the Taoist sage does not strive for the good but rather tries to maintain a dynamic balance between good and bad.
The two opposites of a dualistic pair are seen as balancing and complementing each other. Thus, the cycle of life and death is as natural as the cycle of day and night, and fortune and misfortune embrace each other. With this insight in view, contentment is possible even under extreme hardship. When the negative and the positive are seen as an integrated whole in harmony, life has no problem at all. All problems are created by man out of ignorance of the Way of nature. So we need not worry about anything. “Has a bird ever worried about its food for tomorrow?” the Taoist asks. Just relax and let go, and things will take care of themselves.
The examination of all of these different philosophies has given me insight to the profound thinkers of Eastern philosophy. Just by reading about all of these different modes of thinking, I have been able to formulate my own ideas about the nature of the universe, and its role in my day-to-day life. This class presented me with a great opportunity to explore my own thoughts about the world and solidify my feelings about religion. Through writing about all these ways of thinking, I feel much more confident in my own ways of thinking.
