Foundations of Self-Heling and Contemplative Life

Fall 2012, by Hillel Greif

Relating to the four noble truths superficially, as some theory to contemplate at a distance, disembodied
from the inner content it possesses and divorced from a systematic and comprehensive application to the
inner dimension of ones own unique life experience is like an elixir that has lost its potency to manifest its
profound intended purpose. It is one thing to understand the concept of suffering from a generic
overarching perspective, and it is quite another to be invited to delve into and understand ones own
unique suffering along with the measured prodding to take responsibility for the quality of ones own
perception of the world and his or her relationship to it.
The second truth, in particular, to abandon the causes of our suffering is a daunting proposition. It
requires the temerity and tenacity to grapple with the spin cycles of trauma that solidify our identity
through the experience of pain, identity and defense (avidya, klesha and karma). It could also be
explained as a fourfold process that starts with some perceived traumatic mishap and a good measure of
mayhem, the physical or emotional pain that ensues cascading into a misperception of identifying with the
experience, solidifying a propensity to expect a worst case scenario to unfold, filtered through an
erroneous but seemingly very real self that identifies with the disempowering sense of futility in a world
that is burning around us, the afflictive emotional response, the long term adaptive measures intended to
protect the injured self that insidiously reinforces the initial prime mover only to have us predisposed to
repeating this hellish process again and again. And yet we are told that we can abandon the causes and
conditions that keep us enslaved and locked in this cycle of overwhelm; a daunting proposition indeed.
The very notion that we can abandon the causes of this nightmare is predicated on the notion that our
nature is such that we can and that it is much more flexible than we have been lead to believe. This of
course relates to the teachings of emptiness that require more than a onetime exposure to its tenets. I
believe that it is the second truth that represented the greatest challenge for the individual who asked the
Buddha to reveal his first teaching at the deer park in Sarnath, and may be the most difficult for those of
us until this very day. The truths themselves, couched in the term of nobility, were a counter cultural
iconoclastic revelation; a testament to the Buddhas willingness to buck the social norms beholden to a
caste system that were engrained for countless generations. To truly believe the second truth requires an
even greater willingness to reevaluate long held beliefs, cutting to the very core of our being, to see
through the often times limited mental generic construct which we project and perpetuate and that is the
cornerstone of our self-identity; something that most people would run from even when presented and
couched in the loving embrace of an enlightened being. As counterintuitive as the first noble truth may
appear to a pain avoidant society, to lean into the sharp edges as Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche said, it is
the second noble truth that represents the greatest challenge. To counter the misapprehension of a solid,
existing-from-its-own-side core identity, one must be willing to abandon the addictions of the selfprotective limited reified narrative that may be erroneous but may appear to be the one thing that protects
one from a hostile and uncertain world. How does one communicate that change is possible to those who
have become beholden to thinking that the nature of reality is solid and fixed from its own side and
identify so with their own suffering as the core of their being? The resulting space like equipoise that
results from the relinquishing of the suffering self-identity may lose its appeal to those who feel that they
are giving up the one thing they truly know, even if it is extraordinarily painful.
The patience required to understand the complexity and profundity of the noble truths could be why the
Buddha himself was initially reluctant when asked to give over his teachings. True, the profundity,
complexity and challenges inherent in giving over the life giving medicinal waters of the four noble truths
to neophytes could explain why he was timid at first blush. However, if we understand karma, I believe we
can elucidate such reluctance. The Buddha himself, abandoned by his own mother through her untimely
death felt it necessary to ultimately abandon his own home, and all that he knew, including his family, his
wife and baby boy as well as some long held social and philosophical underpinnings of the society in

which he was raised. This leave taking that is so much a part of the path for those seeking to break free
from the merry-go-round of a non-contemplative life may be essential but it is not without its costs. The
Buddhas reluctance was the residual aftermath of the seed that he sowed into his own consciousness,
the ripening of a deeply seeded sense of abandonment and the need to go it alone. Perhaps recognizing
that he was enlightened, putting him squarely in the ranks of a minority of the few, maybe the only one in
the world at that time, could have exacerbated his sense of alienation and aloneness that was a result of
his own process of leave taking. It may have been necessary, but the axiomatic dimension of the fourth
aspect of karma is that he must have had to experience the inescapable results of the seeds that were
sown. This was his last and greatest test; where the rubber met the road. To overcome the gnawing sense
that he was alone and disconnected, to recognize it and make another choice, exemplifies the tangible
capacity for humans to experience the results of karma but knowingly and consciously create a new path
in spite of those deeply held convictions that may cross into the rubric of not only belief but a sense of
inherent self-existence. Reflecting the milieu in which he was born, the axial age, it was this moment that
was truly pivotal. His story is not a story, but rather the story; our story. It would have been totally
understandable if he had remained silent, opting to remain in a state of self-protection and isolated
safety. His belief that others simply wouldnt care enough or be safe enough to share in the gifts of
insight he had to offer must have been palpable given his history. The greatest gift he offered was not
really the framework or map to help us navigate through the nefarious shoals of samsaric existence but
his pivotal decision to speak, his application, his role modeling example, the humanness he possessed
and his cultivated capacity to turn the wheel of dharma in a direction that defied his own predilections and
bias that literally changed his world and ours in an incalculable and extraordinary way.
I am reminded of the words of Rumi, that are like cold waters to a tired soul, Come, come, whoever you
are. Wanderer, worshiper, lover of leaving. It doesn't matter. Ours is not a caravan of despair. Come, even
if you have broken your vows a thousand times. Come, yet again, come, come.