By JL Pendall
Not all Buddhists like people.
There have always been introverts, outcasts, hermits and sociopaths among us. In fact, some of the oldest Suttas in the Pali Canon—the Atthaka Vagga and Prayanavagga—have an introverted and skeptical tone that clashes with some later works. Some scholars think that these Suttas represent a pre-sectarian Buddhism that was reified into more detailed doctrines later on.
There’s no talk of the Eightfold Path or Four Noble Truths. The focus is almost entirely on independence. This makes these texts well-suited for introverts and the Western world overall.
As an introvert, and Autistic traumatized to the point of sociopathy, I’ve always felt pressured by the Sangha to be more compassionate. Mahayana communities have especially made me feel bad about myself, and I’ve genuinely tried to have unconditional positive regard for everyone.
I can’t, and I don’t have to. Compassion comes in many forms. For me, compassion is choking on a bitter word, lowering a raised fist, and keeping my genocidal fantasies to a minimum.
The do-gooders (who often end up causing the most harm for silly reasons) want you to love everyone the same way you do your family, and I do because I don’t talk to my family much either. Tolerance is the best I can do for most of humanity, and little did I know that there’s a place for this in Buddhism as well.
For this first article in the Buddhism for Introverts series, we’re going to cover the Kama Sutta (not to be confused with the Karma Sutra, which is basically the opposite).
Here’s the text:
If a mortal desires sensual pleasure
and their desire succeeds,
they definitely become elated,
having got what they want.
But for that person in the throes of pleasure,
aroused by desire,
if those pleasures fade,
it hurts like an arrow’s strike.
One who, being mindful,
avoids sensual pleasures
like side-stepping a snake’s head,
transcends attachment to the world.
There are many objects of sensual desire:
fields, lands, and gold; cattle and horses;
slaves and servants; women and relatives.
When a man lusts over these,
the weak overpower him
and adversities crush him.
Suffering follows him
like water in a leaky boat.
That’s why a person, ever mindful,
should avoid sensual pleasures.
Give them up and cross the flood,
as a bailed-out boat reaches the far shore.
I’m sorry for the masculine leaning language here, but I’m not going to rewrite history for our modern inclusivity. Despite the reforms he made, Siddhartha was a man of his time and place. I’m not going to rewrite him as a champion for equality because there’s no evidence that he was.
Anyway, many of these early Suttas take a decidedly ascetic stance on life, and for good reason.
That new phone is going to break and frustrate you. Your new lover is going to die, leave, or change into a stranger. The well-prepared Thanksgiving dinner is going to transform into a soggy bolus before starting its next life in your toilet.
Fields go barren; gold is taxed, stolen and spent; what’s smooth wrinkles, and what’s tight or perky droops in defeat.
Also, the more you have, the more you have to lose. Life can become a game of keep away, where you scramble each day to maintain the little oasis you’ve made, fighting gravity and entropy each step of the way.
The Buddha in these early Suttas was a person exhausted by the struggle and disenchanted with the games we have to play, and the compromises we have to make, to keep it together.
He did what many of us wish we could do at times: walk away. These teachings are from someone who’s left all conventions behind, hence his self-chosen title: Tathagata. One Who Has Come and Gone (it’s usually translated Thus Come One, or Thus Gone One. I don’t think it’s a stretch to say it means both).
He essentially abandoned all stories in favor of What-Is rather than what might be.
The other Suttas we’ll cover introduce a quiet, poetic, skeptical, reasonable Buddha who shuns debates, beliefs, purifying practices, and organization in favor of an inner seclusion that frees one from all creeds and social pressures.
It all starts by realizing that the happiness we’re looking for isn’t ’out there’ in the world. As cliche as it sounds, happiness is within. Contrary to the Theravada approach, this Buddha doesn’t advocate emotional detachment but an inner transcendence that elevates us beyond extremes like is and isn’t, pure and impure. He’s going to completely shatter your foundations until what’s left is like the open sky after the birds have flown away.
It’s not about detachment, but about finding an alternate, in-house source of joy that surpasses anything that the senses can provide, and that goes beyond what any one view can capture.
It’s going to become increasingly difficult to reconcile the views in these Suttas with the more analytic and psychedelic ones found in later works, which is one reason why they’re not spoken of often. But speak of them we will because I tire of humanism and dogma and wish to share happiness with my own kind: the tired introvert who’s sick of everyone’s shit.
Photo: Pixabay
Editor: Dana Gornall
Comments
- Autistic with ADHD: Is Meditation Possible? - October 1, 2024
- Demure & Mindful: A Buddhist’s Take - August 29, 2024
- Sitting Quietly, Doing Nothing (On Basho) - August 20, 2024