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Siddhartha: Life and Love and Why. Feraco Search for Human Potential 13 September 2012. In order to finish our introduction to Siddhartha, we need to briefly cover some Buddhist fundamentals. We’ll start with the Three Universal Truths: anicca (impermanence)
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Siddhartha:Life and Love and Why Feraco Search for Human Potential 13 September 2012
In order to finish our introduction to Siddhartha, we need to briefly cover some Buddhist fundamentals. We’ll start with the Three Universal Truths: • anicca (impermanence) • anatta (impersonality, non-self) • dukkha (suffering)
Anicca, our first concept, translates most directly as “impermanence.” At first glance, it seems fairly self-explanatory: as we said in I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For, everything changes. Unfortunately, the English analogue for the word – “impermanence” – doesn’t precisely match the concept. Believe it or not, essential transience and permanence aren’t mutually exclusive.
For an example, think of a river cutting through a wooded bank. It flows more slowly in wide, flat areas, and flows faster downhill or over rapids. The river’s path may remain the same, but the flow depends on the season and the rainfall: when rain falls, the river swells, and the opposite occurs during summer. In short, it exists in a state of permanent development and change, reacting and adapting as best it can to conditions outside of its control. It’s always there – that part’s permanent – and yet always different due to change and development.
Whereas anicca concerns the essential need to adapt and respond to changing circumstances, anatta – most closely translated as “impersonality” or “non-self” – is a more abstract concept, although the two are ultimately similar. If, based on the first principle, we accept that a) change is constant, b) we are therefore subjected to constant changes, and c) we must always react to those developments, often by changing, anatta holds that a), b), and c) eliminate the need for a “true, core self.”
Think of the river again. It always exists. Its boundaries are (relatively) stable and unchanging. If you walk out to the bank tomorrow, you’re pointing at the same river we point at today. Or are you? The river always exists, but it doesn’t always contain the same water.
As a result, you can never point to the river and say, “That, there, is the river” – because tomorrow, nothing you pointed to today will remain. All that’s left is the riverbank – the shell surrounding that which changes, the body that responds to your name, etc. We change more slowly than the river, but anatta holds that we do change in the same way – i.e., that there is no piece of yourself that never changes, and that to be constantly in flux is to be alive. (This leaves our conventional definition of identity somewhat lacking.)
Our final concept, dukkha, refers to human suffering, major or minor. Dukkha holds that suffering is constant in life because it arises from our desire for non-constant things. We desire transient/impermanent things, and wish they could last forever. But if anicca and anatta hold true, this is a doubly futile emotion. Nothing lasts forever (anicca), including ourselves (anatta); if we ourselves are non-constant, how could our desires be any different? (This is one of the things I was alluding to with the G.K. Chesterton quote during the post-(500) Days of Summer discussions.)
The Four Noble Truths provide additional perspective on dukkha. They are as follows: 1. Suffering exists 2. Suffering has a source – a cause for the effect (caused by human desire) 3. Suffering can be eliminated if we overcome our desires. (Remember the ascetics?) 4. You can eliminate desire by following the Noble Eightfold Path (which you will learn about later)
Buddhists place such high importance on the elimination of desire because its constant presence fuels what’s known as the samsara cycle – the cycle of human existence (birth and rebirth) in a reincarnation-based system. Basically, you enter, leave, and re-enter the material world (which contains suffering). As a result, your existence here will be defined by suffering, and will repeat without end until you learn to overcome suffering via the Eightfold Path. At that point, you’re allowed to finish your existence and pass on at death.
One concept that relates to the samsara cycle is karma, which essentially posits that the things you do come back to you, whatever they may be: you directly experience the consequences of your actions. We often associate our concept of poetic justice with karma: if you do terrible things, the thinking goes, you’ll suffer in turn. But the system isn’t always that linear.
It’s worth noting that karma is cumulative: what you do in this life directly effects how you return to it. If you live badly, you’ll return to life in a position that’s even further from the cycle’s end than before. To me, that seems like a more serious consequence than simple poetic justice.
Another source of suffering stems from the contrast between what we perceive and what is actually real. Our perceptions are referred to as maya, whereas reality (what we don’t see) is known as satyam. The Matrix uses this concept as the basis for its bifurcated system of reality. In the film, maya – what the universe appears to be – is represented by the Matrix itself. Within the Matrix, the world around us is an artificially generated illusion: it is unreal, but we perceive it to be real. Satyam, all that is real, is therefore represented by life outside of the Matrix – what humans experience when they break free of illusion. In essence, satyam represents things as they truly are, and maya represents the veil that prevents us from seeing that truth; we suffer when we cannot know the universe for what it truly is, and define our lives instead by the falsehoods we accept.
Notice that in The Matrix, those who do break free aren’t always prepared to understand the true nature of reality – or, in extreme cases, wish to return to a life of illusion rather than cope with the real. This is a particularly dangerous attitude because one who accepts the veil accepts his own blindness to the way things work. This in turn prevents you from walking the path you’re capable of walking…and wasted potential, as you might guess, also leads to suffering.
On the other hand, nirvana, the apex of human existence, refers to a state of peace that accompanies the elimination of desire. Without desire, humans can peek behind the veil of maya and understand the universe as it truly exists – the fundamental knowledge required to reach enlightenment. Once we’ve reached that enlightened state, we can experience serenity, wisdom, and true compassion; wipe out whatever negative karma we’ve accumulated; and eliminate suffering (breaking the samsara cycle in the process).
With respect to satyam, someone who wishes to “see” it must first understand the om concept. Assuming you’ve already finished, you may already have some sense of om’s supreme importance to the text. As far as straightforward definitions go, the “word of words” can be defined in any number of ways. One useful way to consider the concept is to understand that it’s meant to mirror/represent the essential unity of all things – the harmonic hum of every connection in the universe vibrating like plucked strings. This is why the Noble Eightfold Path places such high value on all living things, not just humans.
Notice that Siddhartha is able to pronounce the word silently at the beginning of the novel. This doesn’t mean he “gets it,” although this does indicate a certain degree of precociousness. As with seemingly everything in the beginning of the book, Siddhartha’s great at grasping the “outlines” of concepts, but not as strong when it comes to actually understanding them. But that’s fine: one doesn’t truly understand om before reaching enlightenment, as that understanding represents the final stage of that particular journey.
Finally, those who achieve enlightenment usually attain nirvana shortly thereafter. In some cases, rather than attain nirvana, enlightened individuals will remain here and dedicate themselves to the welfare of other living beings (usually through guidance rather than out-and-out teaching). These people are called bodhisattvas, and people often pray to them for help. This is Gotama’s role, as well as Vasudeva’s.
The general philosophy behind much of what we’ve covered in Life and Love and Why holds that you can control your circumstances through understanding and dedication. If you focus on understanding yourself, you will be more aware of the consequences your actions cause. If you’re more aware of those consequences, you’re more aware of the connections binding all things, and you’re theoretically less likely to behave in ways that willfully hurt others. Obviously, it’s tough to try your best every day; there are plenty of things that can interfere with such intentions, some of which you may not even control. (Tom’s struggles once again prove instructive.) But the idea is that a lifetime of trying your best can eventually pay off.
This concludes our introduction to Siddhartha. As we move forward, we’ll be analyzing the novel on a chapter-by-chapter basis. These things that we’ve talked about, and will proceed to talk about as we move through the book – happiness, development, thoughtfulness, fear, loss, desire, connection, consequence, control, and transcendence – have everything to do with everything we do. Regardless of whether you’re writing an essay for a prospective college or enjoying a day with your friends, these things underpin our existence.
To read Siddhartha is to look into a very particular sort of mirror, much like Catcher,Mockingbird, or Gatsby: everyone sees something different. I find something new every time I revisit it…and when I re-read it, I’m inevitably startled not only by the new things I find in it, but that I find reflected in myself as well. It’s a special book, the kind that stays in your blood, and I hope you take something special away from it!