Freedom From Liking and Disliking

[cattasalla]

If you spend much time reading the works of Buddhist masters, you might come across rather shocking ideas: Liking and disliking things is harmful, and the practice of Dhamma leads to their end. What?! We may hear about equanimity, and how it is one of the most important mental states the Buddha told us to cultivate. If we misunderstand it, it sounds like apathetic indifference. It sounds like leaving behind the greatest things in life and reducing existence to a constant gray blah.

But then we meet one of those masters. We watch a video from an Ajahn, or meet a monastic who has been in robes for more than a decade. We see how happy they are. They don't look like their lives are a constant gray blah! They smile, they laugh, and they are warm and kind. Maybe their writings sound a bit harsh at times, but in person they radiate a simple joy. They may even look happier than we've ever imagined possible.

Freedom from liking and disliking is the secret.



In what is traditionally considered to be the first talk the Buddha gave after his enlightenment, he laid out the ariyasacca. This is usually translated as "noble truths," but could also mean "truths of the noble ones," as in truths known by noble ones (a term for enlightened beings), or "ennobling truths," as in truths that make one who understands them noble. The first is simply that the lives we lead are imperfect. This imperfection is dukkha, a word usually translated as "suffering" in English. Note that the first noble truth is not "life is suffering" but "suffering exists."

The formula for what exactly is suffering contains some obvious forms of it, such as sickness, death, grief, and sorrow. But after those come a few broader definitions: "Being associated with that which we dislike is suffering. Being separated from that which we like is suffering." This is pretty straightforward, isn't it? If we're around things we don't like, we want to get away from them. If we're not around things we like, we want to go to them. Liking and disliking exerts this constant pressure on us to act, rarely allowing us to rest. That's what the Buddha meant by dukkha.

This simple dynamic means there are two possible solutions. One is to never be around what you dislike and never be away from what you like. That is not only impossible, but the effort to continuously maintain such a condition would be exhausting. The other solution is to just stop liking and disliking things.

But, back to our question above, isn't that a blah? Isn't that a humdrum, boring life, absent of any joy?

No.

Why would the absence of suffering mean the absence of joy? Would the Buddha have taught something that inspired centuries of dedicated practitioners if it meant abandoning everything good about life in order to just be eternally beige?

Thinking this means we're still trapped by liking and disliking. We can't imagine how it would be to not have the things we like, because we like them; and because we dislike not having them! If the practice has led us to some kind of neutral existence, we have not yet freed ourselves from liking and disliking.

Actual freedom from those polarities isn't neutrality, but uncovers a boundless joy and happiness available in every moment. This is a joy beyond any joy that can come from getting what you like, or from getting away from what you dislike. It is contingent on nothing, and thus, it is always present. This is a happiness that can't be shaken, because there's nothing that could possibly shake it. Nothing can disturb it, because freedom from liking and disliking means you've left behind even the possibility of it being disturbed.

So this is what the Buddhist masters are talking about. This is what they mean by "nirvana."

Comments

Re: Thoughts

[cattasalla]

Yeah. I've seen that kind of problem. It's more of a risk nowadays because there is a lot of information about Buddhism in books and online, but it's less easy to find a serious teacher. Also, the detachment aspects of Buddhism attract some of the same people who get into certain drugs: because they're looking for a way to stop caring about whatever is making them miserable. Which is, historically, a reason some people become monks in various religions. It's a misuse of the material, but it's an easy mistake to make, and not an easy one to prevent people from making.

That is exactly the problem, and it's even addressed by the tradition but people who don't know it miss it. I'm not sure how familiar you are so apologies if you already know this, but for the brahmavihāras, what Thich Nhat Hanh called "the four aspects of true love," each has a "far enemy," which is the opposite, and a "near enemy," which is close, but also definitely not it. For equanimity, the inclusive love that accepts someone even with all of their faults, the near enemy is apathy or indifference. Equanimity is about not being moved and staying centered when good or bad things come up in life, but it still means caring and being present. Cold detachment is definitely not our thing.

True. You have to think about it more, though, which is sometimes an asset and other times not.

Not really, though. In fact, when caught up in liking and disliking you end up thinking about it more than when spontaneously acting out of a natural wisdom according to the best information you have. There is only such thought as is necessary. When caught by liking and disliking, though, when you are motivated by those, you end up having to think about how to get the thing you want or away from the thing you don't want. And if you're judging yourself for what you like or dislike, there's even the additional step of coming up with rationalizations or justifications.

It probably works a lot better at high levels in the controlled environment of a monastery.

Yeah, that's important for training and why we laity have it harder. We have far more choices to make than a monastic does. My teacher has talked about this before. Part of the point of being a monastic is specifically to have fewer choices to make, which means fewer opportunities to break the training rules. They don't get to decide what they eat or when they eat, or what they do with at least half of their day (sometimes the whole day), what to wear, and other things besides.

I'm eclectic; I like to look at many different traditions and see what they are good at, then consider if it is useful to me.

Great! I'm also eclectic, but mostly between different Buddhist traditions! I do incorporate a fair amount of Western occultism and paganism in my practice, though, like observing the Wheel of the Year or doing daily Tarot readings and meditations.

It's the monkey's paw trap -- being unable to let go of things, and it causes trouble.

I like to say it's not even about letting go but about not picking it up in the first place. That's where we want to get to in our training.

That's ingrained in society to the point that television ads push it, trying to make people want all this stuff. Not healthy.

Yeah, there's an entire industry that has perfected the art of manipulating our desires and fears to get us to buy their stuff. Not healthy indeed.