Episode Ten - Happiness, hope & equanimity

In this episode I talk about cultivating equanimity and composure, even as we experience joy and happiness. I suggest that changing our relationship with experiences, to take account of the transient nature of everything we think and feel, is a crucial aspect of developing wisdom and peace of mind. This leads to some thoughts on hope and despair, optimism and pessimism. I hope you will find it to be of interest.

Transcript

I have discussed dukkha, suffering, a number of times, and it is important to balance this discussion with a consideration of joy and happiness. There are many forms of happiness – each is dependent on context and circumstance. We may feel happy in the presence of those we love and care for. We may feel happy when we’re in pleasant surroundings or in pleasurable situations. We may feel joy when we hear good news or when we achieve a goal or find success or share the achievements and successes of others. Sometimes, we feel happy just to be alive, to feel the breeze on our face and to experience the sights and sounds of the city or the countryside around us.

It is wonderful to feel happy and joyful, and to share happiness and joy with others. It is at times of happiness and joy that we may feel an absence of suffering – indeed happiness and joy may appear to be the opposite of, or transcendent to, suffering. Therefore, it may seem reasonable that the goal of Buddhist practice is to achieve happiness and joy. However, though the Buddha embraces and celebrates joy in his practical teaching, he also points out that these states of being are impermanent, just like every other state. Therefore, to crave or place too much emphasis on these states, let alone set them as a goal, is to invite disappointment and dissatisfaction. As Walpola Rahula points out, the Buddha reminds us that even happiness and joy should be considered as forms of dukkha, as everything that is impermanent can give rise to suffering.

It is also worth bearing in mind, that if joy or happiness were to somehow become permanent, or to continue beyond their natural duration, we would tire of them, we would doubtless become bored and jaded. Any state of being prolonged for too long loses its magic and intensity – even joy and happiness. To some extent, it is the brevity and transient nature of such states that gives them their special place in our hearts. Permanent joy, like permanent excitement or sorrow, is a contradiction in terms – the permanence, in a way, cancels out the joy, excitement or sorrow.

So, if happiness and joy, wonderful as they are, are not the ultimate goal of Buddhism, what is? Many would say that the peace of mind which arises when we let go of craving and reactivity is as close as we’re likely to get to nirvana or enlightenment. Certainly, the Buddha emphasised the importance of parinna – a dispassionate holistic understanding of each moment of experience – being mindful (in its fullest sense). Important aspects of parinna are conveyed by the English word, ‘equanimity.’

The Oxford English Dictionary defines ‘equanimity’ as: ‘1. Fairness, impartiality, equity; 2. Tranquillity of mind or temper, composure.’ The adjectival form is, ‘equanimous.’ To develop a fair and impartial way of approaching a given situation, is something the Buddha encourages his students to do – through mindful meditation and other means. To understand what is going on, as far as we are able, within the context of contingency and ever-changing circumstances, is a key aspect of the practice of mindful meditation. To ‘be fair’, is to recognise the rights, joys and sufferings of other beings, as carefully and clearly as we recognise our own – to be fair is to be compassionate. 

Equanimity also includes the important practice of maintaining an impartial way of experiencing – not being too swayed by, or drawn into, or attached to, the emotions, sensations and thoughts, that arise from moment-to-moment. Maintaining a compassionate disinterest in what occurs, whether it be excitement, joy, sorrow or boredom, enables us to experience these states without clinging to them. One of the key features of mindful meditation is realising that we can change the way in which we experience, in such a way that suffering, in all its forms, is eased and lessened. By letting go of our tendency to hang on to experiences, to cling to thoughts, feelings and sensations, we can develop a more sustainable mode of experiencing – a way of experiencing that involves less turmoil, less conflict, more peace and balance.

Developing tranquillity of mind and maintaining composure, enables us to accept the ever-changing nature of human life and to experience joy and happiness with gratitude, even as we know these pleasures will not last for ever – both for us, and for others. Developing equanimity also enables us to be less affected, confused and hurt, by the difficulties, conflicts and uncertainties of life – we are more supple in the way we experience, and are less prone to be upset or shocked by the ups and downs of daily existence. Daoist practitioners employ the metaphor of the willow tree that bends and sways with the wind, not against it; or the metaphor of water that flows around rocks and yet is eventually stronger than the rock – eroding and shaping it. Flexibility, in the end, outlasts rigidity. Just as composure and equanimity can be sustained, even as we negotiate the hard boulders of life.

However, keep in mind that the Buddha, ever the realist, includes even the states of equanimity and peace, within his broad definition of dukkha – because ‘whatever is impermanent is dukkha.’ But dukkha is complemented by the related term sukha. The prefix su- means something like ‘good and conducive to wellbeing’ – while the du- in dukkha means ‘bad, difficult or inclining towards illness or harm.’ The important thing to note is that sukha, flourishing or wellbeing, can only be achieved by understanding and alleviating dukkha. Much of the Buddha’s teaching was focused on this endeavour.

These factors remind us that enlightenment itself, is a process – an unfolding engagement with the ebb and flow of experience – doing our best to live our lives with equanimity, understanding and compassion - experiencing the delightful intensity of joy and happiness without wishing they should go on and on. Mindful meditation may help us to experience non-attached happiness - or joy without craving and clinging – being at peace with what comes and goes – but happiness (or nirvana), is not the goal. Rather, learning to live with unavoidable suffering and reducing avoidable suffering are the twin aims of mindful meditation – in a sense happiness, joy and peace are bye-products. If sukha, wellbeing, is to be realised, we have to learn how to live with impermanence and uncertainty.

So how do hope and despair, optimism and pessimism, relate to happiness, peace and suffering?

Given that anicca, or impermanence, and change, are primary conditions of existence – the potential for things to get better or worse is inherent in each moment. The future grows out of the present and the past, and our attitudes, intentions and actions now will help, in some way, to determine what kind of future will emerge.

Let us keep in mind that the dictionary definition of ‘hope,’ combines the sense of ‘expectation’ and ‘desire.’ These two aspects go together – we desire that something will happen, and we expect that it will. What connects desire and expectation is intention, aspiration and action. If our collective desires and expectations are translated into intentions and actions, then our hopes may be realised. If not, we may well be disappointed.

The fact that most people, hundreds of millions of people across the world, live together in peace gives me hope. Whatever is said about human beings being innately selfish, competitive and destructive, the actual evidence of the generally peaceful, tolerant and kind communal behaviour of the vast majority of people, suggests to me that human beings are, in the main, innately sociable, cooperative and kind. This gives me hope that the minority of people who behave selfishly and unkindly can be educated and encouraged to rediscover their innate sociable and peaceful nature. Certainly, the Buddha seems to have taken this view and his life’s work could be seen as an attempt to help those who are deluded, greedy and angry, to rediscover the kindness, wisdom and peace that is hidden within them.

No doubt, we are all born with a predisposition towards optimism or pessimism, towards hope or despair, but while recognising and accepting that our predisposition leans one way or the other, we have a choice as to whether we identify with this tendency and succumb to it, or whether we learn to think and act in ways that transcend our predispositions. A predisposition towards pessimism, can be overcome by learning, and by making a conscious choice to act with optimism. When times are bad, we need to keep in mind that we can focus on small, good things to help us keep going. Also, when times are good, it is always wise to keep in mind that the good times may not last forever. Pie-in-the-sky over-optimism can be as unhealthy and damaging as Eeyore-ish permanent pessimism – delusion can take many forms. Peace of mind comes from keeping a balance between over-optimism and over-pessimism, and always remaining open to changes of fortune as they swing one way, then the other.

In my case, my family will know that while I sometimes give the impression of being pessimistic, deep-down I have a predisposition towards hope and optimism – I tend to prepare for the worst but feel optimistic about the future. These are tendencies that I recognise in myself, the result of innumerable causal conditions (karma) that give rise to me. But whether, or not, I identify with the tendencies towards hope or despair within me, is a matter over which I have some choice. There will be times, as with any human being, when either hope or despair gets the better of me, when I lose my balance and become overly despondent or unwisely hopeful. The Buddha advocated a ‘middle way’ – a view of life that is balanced, realistic and practical – this is the way of sukha, the way of wellbeing.

Buddhists and Daoists tend to take the view that the natural or innate qualities of human beings are benign. The vast majority of people have an aptitude that is balanced towards tolerance, friendliness, selflessness and cooperation, rather than intolerance, unfriendliness, selfishness and competitiveness. These latter qualities are out of balance – the result of delusion and insatiable desire. The ancient Daoist and Buddhist writers, ascribe this imbalance towards negative qualities, as being the result of harmful social conditioning and misguided beliefs and ideology. To return to a natural, balanced state of mind, we need to let go of, or unlearn, these harmful habits and delusions. Meditation, zazen and other practices are the means by which this rebalancing can be achieved.

Many people would argue that this is too benign a view of human nature, given that as a species, we seem unduly prone to aggression, selfishness and competitiveness. But Daoist sages like Laozi and Zhuangzi, well aware of the warring competitiveness of their fellow human beings – often describing the social turmoil and conflicts of their own time in their writings – nevertheless suggest that this is largely caused by a minority of individuals and groups who have turned away from their natural condition, lost their balance and find themselves in the grip of forces of greed, anger and delusion. They have lost their way, and lost the Way, the Dao. However, the potential to return to the way of nature - their natural state of balance – is always present in everyone, no matter how far they have strayed, or how deluded and violent they have become. Through contemplation, non-attachment and study they can return to the way of harmony.

The American philosopher and social activist, Naom Chomsky writes: ‘Since oppression and repression exist, they are reflections of human nature. The same is true of sympathy, kindness, and concern for others …. The task for [society] is to design the ways we live and the institutional and cultural structures of our lives, so as to favour the benign and to suppress the harsh and destructive aspects of our fundamental nature.’ (2017: 194) This seems to echo the Buddha’s own views as articulated in the early Pali texts. The second-century Indian Emperor, Ashoka attempted to put his Buddhist principles into practice by developing a society that was built on an optimistic and hopeful view of human beings as being kind, cooperative and peaceful. His reign is regarded as a largely benign and peaceful period in Indian history.

As a final thought, I would like to quote what Noam Chomsky (2017: 196) says at the end of his recent book, Optimism over Despair: ‘We have two choices. We can be pessimistic, give up, and help ensure that the worst will happen. Or we can be optimistic, grasp the opportunities that surely exist, and maybe help make the world a better place. Not much of a choice.’

References

Chomsky, Noam. 2017. Optimism over Despair. London: Penguin. (p.196)