a buddhist perspective

Question: I was talking to a friend and she told me "she tried" Buddhism but the following was her reason for not pursuing it further: "I don't think that it is a good thing to detach from the body and all emotions.  I believe that passion and emotions are part of the best part of being human.  So... pure detachment leaves me feeling un-human."

Response: I imagine "pure detachment" would leave any reasonable person feeling un-human. But Buddhism does not teach pure detachment.

In Buddhism, the opposite of attachment is not detachment but rather non-attachment. Detachment is unresponsive and removed from emotions. Non-attachment allows us to feel the emotions but not become trapped by them.  When we are non-attached, we still care but we no longer discriminate, feeling love for this person and aversion for another. When we practice non-attachment, we are letting go of worries and expectations. We are fully engaged in what we do, but we realize the act of doing is all we control. As Master Kuang-ch'in said, "Non-attachment does not mean indifference or carelessness, but rather you should do your best and not worry about the results."

Neither do we "detach from the body." We wisely realize it is not permanent and that it is not our true self. It is a temporary dwelling for this lifetime. But we still need to take care of it and treat it with respect as we try to find the balance between hedonism and asceticism. 

Those I know who excel at non-attachment are some of the most engaged, hard-working, and cheerful people I know. Practicing as the Buddha taught, they are a joy to be around. Just thinking of them makes me smile.

After a disagreement among some of the monks, the Buddha once told the monks about a series of events that took place long ago.

King Brahmadata ruled a large kingdom and commanded a strong army. King Dighiti, who ruled a smaller kingdom, heard that Brahmadata was about to invade his kingdom. Knowing he could never defeat Brahmadata’s army and that many of his soldiers would lose their lives in a futile battle, King Dighiti felt it would be best if he and his queen fled. So they went into hiding in another city. A short time later, the queen gave birth to Prince Dighavu. When the prince was older, King Dighiti began to fear what would happen if King Brahmadata found all three of them. As a result, arrangements were made for the prince to live elsewhere.

One day, the king and queen were recognized, cap­tured, and taken to be executed. By chance, Prince Dighavu was on his way to see his parents, whom he had not seen in a long time. He was about to rush to them when his father cried out, “Do not, my dear Dighavu, be far-sighted. Do not be near-sighted. For vengeance is not settled through vengeance. Vengeance is settled through non-vengeance.” The King repeated his warning two more times, adding that he was not deranged, and said that those with heart would under­stand what he meant.

None of the villagers knew who Dighavu was or what the king was talking about. Heeding his father’s warning, Dighavu managed to restrain himself. He watched his parents being executed and dismembered. That night he bought wine and gave it to the guards, who soon became drunk. He then made a pyre, gathered his parent’s remains, placed them on the pyre, and set fire to it. After paying his final respects to his parents, he went into the forest to mourn their death.

A while later, after coming out of hiding, Dighavu managed to obtain a job as an apprentice at an elephant stable next to the palace. One day, when King Brahmadata heard Dighavu singing and playing the lute, he was moved by the sound and arranged for Dighavu to work in his palace. Serving the king and always acting to please him, Dighavu gradually won the king’s trust.

One day, while King Brahmadata was out hunting, Dighavu, who was driving the king’s chariot, deliberately drove the chariot away from the rest of the hunting party. Not long after, the king said he wished to take a nap and soon went to sleep, using Dighavu’s lap for a pillow. Dighavu’s moment of revenge had come. He took out his sword, but suddenly his father’s words came back to him and he put the sword away. A second time, he drew and then sheathed his sword.

After Dighavu drew his sword for the third time, his father’s words—simple and gentle—hit home. They touched Dighavu’s heart that was full of hatred and consumed by a desire for vengeance. His heart knew the truth of his father’s words and understood their import. Heeding his father's words, Dighavu awakened at last to the compassion and wisdom extant in that selfsame heart. He was able to put not only his sword down but his hatred and his desire for vengeance as well.

Suddenly, the king awoke in great alarm. He told Dighavu that he dreamed that Prince Dighavu was about to kill him! Instinctively, Dighavu drew his sword yet again and announced that he was Prince Dighavu. The king immediately begged Dighavu not to kill him. With his compassion and wisdom overcoming his hatred and desire for vengeance, Dighavu was able to put away his sword. Then, in turn, he begged for the king’s for­giveness . The king and the prince spared each other’s lives, and each vowed never to harm the other. They then returned to the castle.

Back at the palace, the king asked his ministers what they would do if they could find Prince Dighavu. After hearing their brutal descriptions of what they would do, the king told them what had just transpired. He then turned to Dighavu and asked the meaning of his father’s last words.

Dighavu explained that do not be far-sighted meant one should not hold on to a wish for retaliation. Do not be near-sighted meant one should not readily break one’s friendship with another. Additionally, vengeance is not settled through vengeance. Vengeance is set­tled through non-vengeance enabled Dighavu to realize that if he sought revenge for the deaths of his parents by killing the king, the king’s supporters would retaliate by killing him. Then Dighavu’s supporters would in turn kill the king’s supporters. This is why vengeance never ends through vengeance. In sparing each other’s lives, both the king and the prince ended vengeance by letting go of it.

If in small everyday situations we can start responding from the mind that is not swayed by emotions—the mind of sympathy and love that is free of hatred and bitterness—we will be planting good seeds. These good seeds will mature into good condi­tions. With good conditions, we can continue to practice. Our practice of morality and of respecting and not harming others will further increase our good conditions. With such conditions, the bad seeds will not have the opportunity to mature , and we will not find ourselves in violent situations.

Following the Buddha’s advice, we should strive to never lose our calm, clear mind and never utter harsh or evil words but instead treat others with a mind of sympathy and compassion. Letting go of our anger, we will permeate the entire world with an awareness imbued with concern—unreserved, infinite, and free from hostility and ill will.

One time when the Buddha was staying in Sravasti, an incident came to his attention. Close to where he was visiting resided a number of monks and nuns. It happened that when some nuns were spoken ill of, one of the monks would become angry. When that monk was spoken ill of, the nuns would become angry. After confirming with the monk that this was accurate, the Buddha advised the monk that he should discipline himself and hold the thoughts: “My mind will not change [be swayed], I will not utter evil words, I will abide with compassion and loving kindness without an angry thought.” [1]

The Buddha then told the monastics to always remember that even ordinarily calm minds can be disturbed in difficult times. So the monastics needed to train themselves to remain calm, regardless of the situation. The Buddha recounted how there was once a woman who lived in the same city where he and the monastics currently were. Everyone regarded the woman as gentle and quiet. She had a slave named Kali who was clever and hardworking. Kali wondered whether her mistress was as mild-tempered as she seemed. Might her mistress actually be hiding a bad temper? Perhaps Kali was so effi­cient that her mistress had not had cause to reveal her true temper!

Kali decided to test her mistress by getting up later than usual one morning. When the mistress saw Kali and asked her why she got up late, Kali responded that she did not have a reason. The mistress became angry. The next morning Kali got up even later. Once more, her mistress questioned her. And once more, Kali replied that she did not have a reason. When this happened yet again on the third morning, the infuriated mistress struck Kali. Bleed­ing, Kali ran out of the house crying out that her mistress had hit her because she had gotten up late! Word of what had happened spread and with it the report that the mistress was actually violent and bad-tempered.

The Buddha pointed out to the monastics that as long as they did not hear anything disagreeable or unpleasant, most of them were quiet and well behaved. But when they heard something objectionable, such words became a test as to whether they were truly calm and polite. The Buddha gave an example: Monks may be gentle and kind because they have everything they need. But if they become upset when their needs go unfulfilled, then they are not truly gentle.

[1] Sister Upalavanna, translator, Kakacupama Sutta, MN 21, (http://www.saigon.com/~anson/ebud/majjhima/021-kakacupama-sutta-e1.htm)

The Buddha often spoke of the poisons of greed, anger, ignorance, and delusion. These poisons are still very much with us today.

Greed is our endless craving, and anger is what arises when our greed is unfulfilled. Ignorance is our lack of understanding the truths that underlie what is happening to us and around us. Delusion is mis­taking wrong ideas for the truth. Due to our ignorance and delusion, we believe in ideas that are wrong and reject those that are correct and beneficial. But we do so not because we are bad people. Lazy? Yes. Easily dis­tracted? Yes. Impatient and judgmental? Yes.

But because we are bad people? No.

Lacking the ability to clearly discern right from wrong, we automatically react out of our bad habits and, consequently, we are impatient and inconsiderate. In most instances, our intentions are not to harm others. We are just so easily caught up in our desires, wishes, and expectations. When these are unfulfilled, in our impatience and disappointment, we give in to anger, which rises from within us, uninvited and unnoticed.

So easily, so automatically, we feel resentment and irritation, if not outright rage. And in so feeling, we are again immersed in our greed, anger, ignorance, and delusion.