Towards a Buddhist Psychotherapy
C. George Boeree, Ph.D.
Shippensburg University
What follows is my effort at showing the relevance of Buddhism to western psychotherapy,
especially existential therapy. Although it may not sit well with purists, I
hope that this article captures the spirit of the Buddha's message.
The Four Noble Truths sound like the basics of any theory with therapeutic roots:
1. Life is suffering. Life is at very least full of suffering, and it can easily
be argued that suffering is an inevitable aspect of life. If I have senses,
I can feel pain; if I have feelings, I can feel distress; if I have a capacity
for love, I will have the capacity for grief. Such is life.
Duhkha, the Sanskrit word for suffering, is also translated as stress, anguish,
and imperfection. Buddha wanted us to understand suffering as a foundation for
improvement. One key to understanding suffering is understanding anitya, which
means that all things, including living things, our loved ones, and ourselves,
are impermanent. Another key concept is anatman, which means that all things
-- even we -- have no "soul" or eternal substance. With no substance,
nothing stands alone, and no one has a separate existence. We are all interconnected,
not just with our human world, but with the universe.
In existential psychology, we speak of ontological anxiety (dread, angst). It,
too is characterized as an intrinsic part of life. It is further understood
that in order to improve one's life, one needs to understand and accept this
fact of life, and that the effort one makes at avoiding this fact of life is
at the root of neurosis. In other words, denying anxiety is denying life itself.
As the blues song points out, "if you ain't scared, you ain't right!"
Impermanence also has its correlate in the concept of being-towards-death. Our
peculiar position of being mortal and being aware of it is a major source of
anxiety, but is also what makes our lives, and the choices we make, meaningful.
Time becomes important only when there is only so much of it. Doing the right
thing and loving someone only have meaning when you don't have an eternity to
work with.
Anatman -- one of the central concepts of Buddhism -- is likewise a central
concept in existential psychology. As Sartre put it, our existences precede
our essences. That is to say, we are a kind of "nothingness" that
strains to become a "something." Yet only by acknowledging our lives
as more a matter of movement than substance do we stand a chance at authentic
being.
2. Suffering is due to attachment. We might say that at least much of the suffering
we experience comes out of ourselves, out of our desire to make pleasure, happiness,
and love last forever and to make pain, distress, and grief disappear from life
altogether.
My feeling, not quite in line with some Buddhist interpretations, is that we
are not therefore to avoid pleasure, happiness, and love. Nor are we to believe
that all suffering comes from ourselves. It's just that it is not necessary,
being shot once with an arrow, to shoot ourselves again, as the Buddha put it.
Attachment is one translation of the word trishna, which can also be translated
as thirst, desire, lust, craving, or clinging. When we fail to recognize that
all things are imperfect, impermanent, and insubstantial, we cling to them in
the delusion that they are indeed perfect, permanent, and substantial, and that
by clinging to them, we, too, will be perfect, permanent, and substantial.
Another aspect of attachment is dvesha, which means avoidance or hatred. To
Buddha, hatred was every bit as much an attachment as clinging. Only by giving
those things which cause us pain permanence and substance do we give them the
power to hurt us more. We wind up fearing, not that which can harm us, but our
fears themselves.
A third aspect of attachment is avidya, meaning ignorance. At one level, it
refers to the ignorance of these Four Noble Truths -- not understanding the
truth of imperfection and so on. At a deeper level, it also means "not
seeing," i.e. not directly experiencing reality, but instead seeing our
personal interpretation of it. More than that, we take our interpretation of
reality as more real than reality itself, and interpret any direct experiences
of reality itself as illusions or "mere appearances!"
Existential psychology has some similar concepts here, as well. Our lack of
"essence" or preordained structure, our "nothingness," leads
us to crave solidity. We are, you could say, whirlwinds who wish they were rocks.
We cling to things in the hopes that they will provide us with a certain "weight."
We try to turn our loved ones into things by demanding that they not change,
or we try to change them into perfect partners, not realizing that a statue,
though it may live forever, has no love to give us. We try to become immortal,
whether by anxiety-driven belief in fairy-tales, or by making our children and
grand-children into clones of ourselves, or by getting into the history books
or onto the talk shows. We even cling to unhappy lives because change is too
frightening.
Or we try to become a piece of a larger pie: The most frightening things we've
seen in this century are the mass movements, whether they be Nazis or Red Guard
or Ku Klux Klan or... well, you name them. If I'm just a little whirlwind, maybe
by joining others of my kind, I can be a part of a hurricane! Beyond these giant
movements are all the petty ones -- political movements, revolutionary ones,
religious ones, antireligious ones, ones involving nothing more than a style
or fashion, and even the local frat house. And note the glue that holds them
together is the same: hatred, which in turn is based on the anxiety that comes
from feeling small.
Finally, existential psychology also discusses its version of ignorance. Everyone
holds belief systems -- personal and social -- that remain forever untested
by direct experience. They have such staying power because built in to them
is a catch-22, a circular argument, that says that evidence or reasoning that
threatens the belief system is, ipso facto, incorrect. These belief systems
can range from the great religious, political, and economic theories to the
little beliefs people hold that tell them that they are -- or are not -- worthy.
It is a part of therapy's job to return us to a more direct awareness of reality.
As Fritz Perls once said, "we must lose our minds and come to our senses!"
3. Suffering can be extinguished. At least that suffering we add to the inevitable
suffering of life can be extinguished. Or, if we want to be even more modest
in our claims, suffering can at least be diminished.
I believe that, with decades of practice, some monks may be able to transcend
even simple, direct, physical pain. I don't think, however, that us ordinary
folk in our ordinary lives have the option of devoting those decades to such
an extreme of practice. My focus, then, is on diminishing mental anguish rather
than eliminating all pain.
Nirvana is the traditional name for the state of being (or non-being, if you
prefer) wherein all clinging, and so all suffering, has been eliminated. It
is often translated as "blowing out," with the idea that we eliminate
self like we blow out a candle. This may be a proper understanding, but I prefer
the idea of blowing out a fire that threatens to overwhelm us, or even the idea
of taking away the oxygen that keeps the fires burning. By this I mean that
by "blowing out" clinging, hate, and ignorance, we "blow out"
unnecessary suffering.
I may be taking a bit of a leap here, but I believe that the Buddhist concept
of nirvana is quite similar to the existentialists' freedom. Freedom has, in
fact, been used in Buddhism in the context of freedom from rebirth or freedom
from the effects of karma. For the existentialist, freedom is a fact of our
being, one which we often ignore, and which ignorance leads us to a diminished
life.
4. And there is a way to extinguish suffering. This is what all therapists believe
-- each in his or her own way. But this time we are looking at what Buddha's
theory --dharma -- has to say: He called it the Eightfold Path.
The first two segments of the path are refered to as prajña, meaning
wisdom:
Right view -- understanding the Four Noble Truths, especially the nature of
all things as imperfect, impermanent, and insubstantial and our self-inflicted
suffering as founded in clinging, hate, and ignorance.
Right aspiration -- having the true desire to free oneself from attachment,
hatefulness, and ignorance. The idea that improvement comes only when the sufferer
takes the first step of aspiring to improvement is apparently 2500 years old.
For the existential psychologist, therapy is something neither the therapist
nor the client takes lying down -- if you will pardon the pun. The therapist
must take an assertive role in helping the client become aware of the reality
of his or her suffering and its roots. Likewise, the client must take an assertive
role in working towards improvement -- even though it means facing the fears
they've been working so hard to avoid, and especially facing the fear that they
will "lose" themselves in the process.
The next three segments of the path provide more detailed guidance in the form
of moral precepts, called sila:
Right speech -- abstaining from lying, gossiping, and hurtful speech generally.
Speech is often our ignorance made manifest, and is the most common way in which
we harm others. Modern psychologists emphasize that one should above all stop
lying to oneself. But Buddhism adds that by practicing being true to others,
and one will find it increasingly difficult to be false to oneself.
Right action -- behaving oneself, abstaining from actions that hurt others (and,
by implication, oneself) such as killing, stealing, and irresponsible sex.
Right livelihood -- making one's living in an honest, non-hurtful way. Here's
one we don't talk about much in our society today. One can only wonder how much
suffering comes out of the greedy, cut-throat, dishonest careers we often participate
in. This by no means means we must all be monks: Imagine the good one can do
as an honest, compassionate, hard-working accountant, business person, lawyer,
or politician!
I have to pause here to add another Buddhist concept to the picture: karma.
Basically, karma refers to good and bad deeds and the consequences they bring.
In some branches of Buddhism, karma has to do with what kind of reincarnation
to expect. But other branches see it more simply as the negative (or positive)
effects one's actions have on one's integrity. Beyond the effects of your selfish
acts have on others, for example, each selfish act "darkens your soul,"
and makes happiness that much harder to find. On the other hand, each act of
kindness, as the gypsies say, "comes back to you three times over."
To put it simply, virtue is its own reward, and vice its own hell.
The nature of moral choice has been a central concern of existentialism as well.
According to existentialists, we build our lives through our moral choices.
But they view morality as a highly individualistic thing -- not based on simple
formulas beginning with "thou shalt not..." and handed down to us
directly from God. Actually, moral choice is something involving a real person
in a real situation, and no one can second guess another's decisions. The only
"principle" one finds in existentialism is that the moral decision
must come from a certain position, i.e. that of authenticity.
Perhaps I should also pause here to explain what is meant by the existential
idea of authenticity. The surface meaning is being real rather than artificial
or phony. More completely, it means living one's life with full acceptance of
one's freedom and the responsibility and anxiety that freedom entails. It is
often seen as a matter of living courageously. To me, it sounds suspiciously
like enlightenment.
There is another similar ethical philosophy I'd like to mention: the situated
ethics of Joseph Fletcher. He is a Christian theologian who finds the traditional,
authoritarian brand of Christian ethics not in keeping with the basic message
of Christ. Needless to say, he has raised the hackles of many conservative Christians
by saying that morality is not a matter of absolutes, but of individual conscience
in special situations. He believes that, if an act is rooted in genuine love,
it is good. If it is rooted in hatred, selfishness, or apathy, it is bad. Mahayana
(northern) Buddhism says very much the same thing.
It is always a matter of amusement to me that my students, unaware of all the
great philosophical and religious debates on morality, all seem quite aware
that intentionally hurting others (or oneself) is bad, and doing one's best
to help others (and oneself) is good. If you look at Buddha's pronouncements
on morality -- or Christ's -- you find the same simplicity.
The last three segments of the path are the ones Buddhism is most famous for,
and concern samadhi or meditation. I must say that, despite the popular conception,
without wisdom and morality, meditation is worthless, and may even be dangerous.
Right effort -- taking control of your mind and the contents thereof. Simple,
direct practice is what it takes, the developing of good mental habits: When
bad thoughts and impulses arise, they should be abandoned. This is done by watching
the thought without attachment, recognizing it for what it is (no denial or
repression!), and letting it dissipate. Good thoughts and impulses, on the other
hand, should be nurtured and enacted. Make virtue a habit, as the stoics used
to say.
There are four "sublime states" (brahma vihara) that some Buddhists
talk about. These sublime states are fully experienced by saintly creatures
called boddhisattvas, but the rest of us should practice them every moment of
every day as an exercise in self-improvement. They are loving kindness to all
you meet, compassion for those who are suffering, joy for others without envy,
and equanimity or a peaceful, evenly balanced attitude towards the ups and downs
of life.
Right mindfulness -- mindfulness refers to a kind of meditation involving an
acceptance of thoughts and perceptions, a "bare attention" to these
events without attachment. It is called vipassana in the Theravada (southern
Buddhism) tradition, and shikantaza in the Ch'an (Zen) tradition. But it is
understood that this mindfulness is to extend to daily life as well. It becomes
a way of developing a fuller, richer awareness of life, and a deterent to our
tendency to sleepwalk our way through life.
One of the most important moral precepts in Buddhism is the avoidance of consciousness-diminishing
or altering substances -- i.e. alcohol or drugs. This is because anything that
makes you less than fully aware sends you in the opposite direction of improvement
into deeper ignorance.
But there are other things besides drugs that diminish consciousness. Some people
try to avoid life by disappearing into food or sexuality. Others disappear into
work, mindless routine, or rigid, self-created rituals.
Drowning oneself in entertainment is one of today's favorite substitutes for
heroin. I think that modern media, especially television, make it very difficult
to maintain our balance. I would like to see a return to the somewhat Victorian
concept of "edifying diversions:" see a good movie on PBS or videotape
-- no commercials, please -- or read a good book, listen to good music, and
so on.
We can also drown awareness in material things -- fast cars, extravagant clothes,
and so on. Shopping has itself become a way of avoiding life. Worst of all is
the blending of materiality with entertainment. While monks and nuns avoid frivolous
diversions and luxurious possessions, we surround ourselves with commercials,
infomercials, and entire shopping networks, as if thery were effective forms
of "pain control!"
Right concentration -- meditating in such a way as to empty our natures of attachments,
avoidances, and ignorance, so that we may accept the imperfection, impermanence,
and insubstantiality of life. This is usually thought of as the highest form
of Buddhist meditation, and full practice of it is pretty much restricted to
monks and nuns who have progressed considerably allong the path.
But just like the earlier paths provide a foundation for later paths, later
ones often support earlier ones. For example, a degree of "calm abiding"
(shamatha), a beginning version of concentration, is essential for developing
mindfulness, and is taught to all beginning meditators. This is the counting
of breaths or chanting of mantras most people have heard of. This passifying
of the mind is, in fact, important to mindfulness, effort, all moral practice,
and even the maintaining of view and aspiration. I believe that this simple
form of meditation is the best place for those who are suffering to begin --
though once again, the rest of the eightfold path is essential for long-term
improvement.
Most therapists know: Anxiety is the most common manifestation of psychological
suffering. And when it's not anxiety, it's unresolved anger. And when it's not
anger, it's pervasive sadness. All three of these can be toned done to a manageable
level by simple meditation. Meditation will not eliminate these things -- that
requires wisdom and morality and the entire program -- but it will give the
sufferer a chance to acquire the wisdom, morality, etc!
Beyond recommending simple meditation, therapists might recommend simplification
of lifestyle, avoidance of sensationalistic or exploitative entertainment, a
holiday from the news, a retreat to a monastery, or a simple weekend vacation.
One of my favorite expressions is "less is more!"
As I mentioned earlier, some Buddhists have an expression "nirvana is samsara,"
which means that the perfected life is this life. While there is much talk about
great insights and amazing enlightenments and even paranormal events, what Buddhism
is really all about, in my humble opinion, is returning to this life, your very
own little life, with a "new attitude." By being more calm, more aware,
a nicer person morally, someone who has given up envy and greed and hatred and
such, who understands that nothing is forever, that grief is the price we willingly
pay for love.... this life becomes at very least bearable. We stop torturing
ourselves and allow ourselves to enjoy what there is to enjoy. And there is
a good deal to enjoy!
My Buddhist friends often use the term "practice" for what they do.
They encourage each other to "keep on practicing." Nobody is too terribly
concerned if they aren't perfect -- they don't expect that. As long as you pick
yourself up and practice a little more. A good basis for therapy.
Copyright 1997, C. George Boeree