3: The Facts of Life
fresh attitude starts to happen when we look to see that yesterday was
yesterday, and now it is gone; today is today and now it is new. It is like
that—every hour, every minute is changing. If we stop observing change, then
we stop seeing everything as new.
Buddha taught that there are three principal characteristics of human existence:
to the Buddha, the lives of all beings are marked by these three qualities.
Recognizing these qualities to be real and true in our own experience helps us
to relax with things as they are.
I first heard this teaching it seemed academic and remote. But when I was
encouraged to pay attention—to be curious about what was happening with my
body and my mind—something shifted. I could observe from my own experience
My moods are continuously shifting like the weather. I am definitely not in
control of what thoughts or emotions are going to arise, nor can I halt their
flow. Stillness is followed by movement, movement flows back into stillness.
Even the most persistent physical pain, when I pay attention to it, changes
like the tides.
feel gratitude to the Buddha for pointing out that what we struggle against all
our lives can be acknowledged as ordinary experience. Life
go up and down. People and situations
and so is everything else. Everybody knows the pain of getting what we don't
want: saints, sinners, winners, losers. I feel gratitude that someone saw the
truth and pointed out that we don't suffer this kind of pain because of our
personal inability to get things right.
nothing is static or fixed, that all is fleeting and impermanent, is the first
mark of existence. It is the ordinary state of affairs. Everything is in
process. Everything—every tree, every blade of grass, all the animals,
insects, human beings, buildings, the animate and the inanimate—is always
changing, moment to moment. We don't have to be mystics or physicists to know
this. Yet at the level of personal experience, we resist this basic fact. It
means that life isn't always going to go our way. It means there's loss as well
as gain. And we don't like that.
I was changing jobs and houses at the same time. I felt insecure, uncertain,
and groundless. Hoping that he would say something that would help me work with
these changes, I complained to Trungpa Rinpoche about having trouble with
transitions. He looked at me sort of blankly and said, "We are always in
transition." Then he said, "If you can just relax with that, you'll
have no problem."
know that all is impermanent; we know that everything wears out. Although we
can buy this truth intellectually, emotionally we have a deep-rooted aversion
to it. We want permanence; we expect permanence. Our natural tendency is to
seek security; we believe we can find it. We experience impermanence at the
everyday level as frustration. We use our daily activity as a shield against
the fundamental ambiguity of our situation, expending tremendous energy trying
to ward off impermanence and death. We don't like it that our bodies change
shape. We don't like it that we age. We are afraid of wrinkles and sagging
skin. We use health products as if we actually believe that
and teeth, might somehow miraculously escape the truth of impermanence.
Buddhist teachings aspire to set us free from this limited way of relating.
They encourage us to relax gradually and wholeheartedly into the ordinary and
obvious truth of change. Acknowledging this truth doesn't mean that we're
looking on the dark side. What it means is that we begin to understand that
we're not the only one who can't keep it all together. We no longer believe
that there are people who have managed to avoid uncertainty.
second mark of existence is egolessness. As human beings we are as impermanent
as everything else is. Every cell in the body is continuously changing.
Thoughts and emotions rise and fall away unceasingly. When we're thinking that
we're competent or that we're hopeless—what are we basing it on? On this
fleeting moment? On yesterday's success or failure? We cling to a fixed idea of
who we are and it cripples us. Nothing and no one is fixed. Whether the reality
of change is a source of freedom for us or a source of horrific anxiety makes a
significant difference. Do the days of our lives add up to further suffering or
to increased capacity for joy? That's an important question.
egolessness is called
words can be misleading. The Buddha was not implying that we disappear—or that
we could erase our personality. As a student once asked, "Doesn't
experiencing egolessness make life kind of beige?" It's not like that.
Buddha was pointing out that the fixed idea that we have about ourselves as
solid and separate from each other is painfully limiting. It is possible to
move through the drama of our lives without believing so earnestly in the
character that we play. That we take ourselves so seriously, that we are so
absurdly important in our own minds, is a problem for us. We feel justified in
being annoyed with everything. We feel justified in denigrating ourselves or in
feeling that we are more clever than other people. Self-importance hurts us,
limiting us to the narrow world of our likes and dislikes. We end up bored to
death with ourselves and our world. We end up never satisfied.
have two alternatives: either we question our beliefs—or we don't. Either we
accept our fixed versions of reality—or we begin to challenge them. In
Buddha's opinion, to train in staying open and curious—to train in dissolving
our assumptions and beliefs—is the best use of our human lives.
we train in awakening bodhichitta, we are nurturing the flexibility of our
mind. In the most ordinary terms, egolessness is a flexible identity. It
manifests as inquisitiveness, as adaptability, as humor, as playfulness. It is
our capacity to relax with not knowing, not figuring everything out, with not
being at all sure about who we are—or who anyone else is either.
man's only son was reported dead in battle. Inconsolable, the father locked
himself in his house for three weeks, refusing all support and kindness. In the
fourth week the son returned home. Seeing that he was not dead, the people of
the village were moved to tears. Overjoyed, they accompanied the young man to
his father's house and knocked on the door. "Father," called the son,
"I have returned." But the old man refused to answer. "Your son
is here, he was not killed," called the people. But the old man would not
come to the door. "Go away and leave me to grieve!" he screamed.
"I know my son is gone forever and you cannot deceive me with your
it is with all of us. We are certain about who we are and who others are and it
blinds us. If another version of reality comes knocking on our door, our fixed
ideas keep us from accepting it.
are we going to spend this brief lifetime? Are we going to strengthen our
well-perfected ability to struggle against uncertainty, or are we going to
train in letting go? Are we going to hold on stubbornly to "I'm like this
and you're like that"? Or are we going to move beyond that narrow mind?
Could we start to train as a warrior, aspiring to reconnect with the natural
flexibility of our being and to help others do the same? If we start to move in
this direction, limitless possibilities will begin to open up.
teaching on egolessness points to our dynamic, changing nature. This body has
never felt exactly the way it's feeling now. This mind is thinking a thought
that, repetitious as it may seem, will never be thought again. I may say,
"Isn't that wonderful?" But we don't usually experience it as
wonderful; we experience it as unnerving, and we scramble for ground. The
Buddha was generous enough to show us an alternative. We are not trapped in the
identity of success or failure, or in any identity at all, neither in terms of
how others see us nor in how we see ourselves. Every moment is unique, unknown,
completely fresh. For a warrior-in-training, egolessness is a cause of joy
rather than a cause of fear.
third mark of existence is suffering, dissatisfaction. As Suzuki Roshi put it,
it is only by practicing through a continual succession of agreeable and
disagreeable situations that we acquire true strength. To accept that pain is
inherent and to live our lives from this understanding is to create the causes
and conditions for happiness.
put it concisely, we suffer when we resist the noble and irrefutable truth of
impermanence and death. We suffer not because we are basically bad or deserve
to be punished, but because of three tragic misunderstandings.
we expect that what is always changing should be graspable and predictable. We
are born with a craving for resolution and security that governs our thoughts,
words, and actions. We are like people in a boat that is falling apart, trying
to hold on to the water. The dynamic, energetic, and natural flow of the
universe is not acceptable to conventional mind. Our prejudices and addictions
are patterns that arise from the fear of a fluid world. Because we mistakenly
take what is always changing to be permanent, we suffer.
we proceed as if we were separate from everything else, as if we were a fixed
identity, when our true situation is egoless. We insist on being Someone, with
a capital S. We get security from defining ourselves as worthless or worthy,
superior or inferior. We waste precious time exaggerating or romanticizing or
belittling ourselves with a complacent surety that yes, that's who we are. We
mistake the openness of our being—the inherent wonder and surprise of each
moment—for a solid, irrefutable self. Because of this misunderstanding, we
we look for happiness in all the wrong places. The Buddha called this habit
"mistaking suffering for happiness," like a moth flying into the
flame. As we know, moths are not the only ones who will destroy themselves in
order to find temporary relief. In terms of how we seek happiness, we are all
like the alcoholic who drinks to stop the depression that escalates with every
drink, or the junkie who shoots up in order to get relief from the suffering
that increases with every fix.
friend who is always on a diet pointed out that this teaching would be easier
to follow if our addictions
temporary relief. Because we experience short-lived satisfaction from them, we
keep getting hooked. In repeating our quest for instant gratification, pursuing
addictions of all kinds—some seemingly benign, some obviously lethal—we
continue to reinforce old patterns of suffering. We strengthen dysfunctional
we become less and less able to reside with even the most fleeting uneasiness
or discomfort. We become habituated to reaching for something to ease the
edginess of the moment. What begins as a slight shift of energy—a minor
tightening of our stomach, a vague, indefinable feeling that something bad is
about to happen—escalates into addiction. This is our way of trying to make
life predictable. Because we mistake what always results in suffering for what
will bring us happiness, we remain stuck in the repetitious habit of escalating
our dissatisfaction. In Buddhist terminology this vicious cycle is called
I begin to doubt that I have what it takes to stay present with impermanence,
egolessness, and suffering, it uplifts me to remember Trungpa Rinpoche's
cheerful reminder that there is no cure for hot and cold. There is no cure for
the facts of life.
teaching on the three marks of existence can motivate us to stop struggling
against the nature of reality. We can stop harming others and ourselves in our
efforts to escape the alternation of pleasure and pain. We can relax and be
fully present for our lives.