10

DISTURBING EMOTIONS:

THE REMEDIES

Craving, hatred, and the other passions are enemies without hands or feet; they are neither brave nor intelligent. How have I become their slave? Entrenched in my heart, they strike at me at will. Fie on such ridiculous patience!

SHANTIDEVA

How do we strip the alienating emotions of their power without becoming insensitive to the world, without draining life of its richness? If we merely consign them to the depths of the unconscious, they will reemerge with renewed force at the first opportunity, continuing to strengthen the tendencies that perpetuate inner conflict. The ideal, contrarily, is to allow negative emotions to form and dissipate without leaving any trace in the mind. Thoughts and emotions will continue to surface, but they will not proliferate and will lose their power to enslave us.

One might argue that the conflictive emotions—anger, jealousy, greed—are acceptable because they are natural, and that there is no need to interfere with them. But disease is a natural phenomenon too. We do not resign ourselves to it or welcome it as a desirable ingredient of life. It is just as legitimate to act against afflictive emotions as it is to treat disease. Are these negative emotions really diseases? At first glance the parallel may seem excessive, but a closer look reveals that it is far from baseless, since most inner confusion and suffering arise from an array of disturbing emotions that weaken our “mental immune system.” Conversely, lasting well-being arises from cultivating positive emotions and wisdom.

THE SPIRAL OF EMOTIONS

Why can’t we simply allow the negative emotions to wear themselves down? Experience shows that, like an infection that goes untreated, the disturbing emotions gain in strength when allowed to take their course. Unleashing anger whenever it arises, for instance, tends to create a state of psychological instability that only increases irascibility. The results of various psychological studies contradict the notion that giving free rein to the emotions temporarily relieves bottled-up tensions.¹ By systematically allowing our negative emotions to express themselves, we develop habits to which we are vulnerable every time the emotional charge reaches the critical threshold. In addition, the threshold will gradually become lower and anger will erupt ever more easily. The result will be what is commonly called a bad temper, accompanied by chronic suffering. From the physiological point of view, arterial tension diminishes if we prevent anger from openly expressing itself, but it increases when we fly into a rage.²

Behavioral studies have also shown that those who are best able to balance their emotions (by controlling them without repressing them) also demonstrate the greatest selflessness in the face of the suffering of others.³ Most hyperemotive people are more concerned with their own distress at the sight of suffering than with the ways in which they might help to relieve that suffering.

It does not follow, however, that we need to stifle our emotions. Preventing them from expressing themselves while leaving them intact, like a time bomb in a dark corner of our mind, is both a stopgap and an unhealthy solution. Psychologists aver that suppressed emotion can cause serious mental and physical damage, and that we should at all costs avoid turning our emotions against ourselves. On the other hand, the unbridled and extreme expression of emotions can also give rise to grave psychological conditions. We can die of a stroke in a fit of rage or consume ourselves in obsessive desire. In all such cases, it is because we haven’t been able to establish the right dialogue between our intelligence and our emotions.

IS IT POSSIBLE TO FREE OURSELVES OF NEGATIVE EMOTIONS?

You might think that ignorance and negative emotions are inherent to the flow of consciousness, and that trying to rid yourself of them is like fighting against a part of yourself. But the most fundamental aspect of consciousness, the pure faculty of knowing—what has been called the “luminous” quality of the mind—contains no hatred or desire at its core. A mirror, for instance, will reflect both angry faces and smiling ones. The very quality of the mirror allows countless images to arise, yet none of them belongs to the mirror. In fact, if the angry face were intrinsic to the mirror, it could be seen at all times and would prevent other images from arising. Similarly, the most fundamental quality of cognition, the luminous quality of the mind, is what allows the arising of thoughts and underlies all of them. Yet none of these thoughts belongs intrinsically to the fundamental nature of the mind. The experience of introspection shows, on the contrary, that the negative emotions are transitory mental events that can be obliterated by their opposites, the positive emotions, acting as antidotes.

To that end, we have to begin by recognizing that the afflictive emotions are harmful to our well-being. This assessment is based not on some dogmatic distinction between good and bad, but on observation of the short- and long-term repercussions of certain emotions on oneself and on others. But the mere fact of recognizing the harmful effects of mental afflictions is not enough to overcome them. Having come to this awareness, you still have gradually to familiarize yourself with each antidote—loving-kindness as antidote to hatred, for instance—until the absence of hatred becomes second nature. The Tibetan word gom, which is usually translated as “meditation,” more precisely denotes “familiarization,” while the Sanskrit word bhavana, also translated as “meditation,” means “cultivation.” Indeed, meditation is not about sitting quietly in the shade of a tree and relaxing in a moment of respite from the daily grind; it is about familiarizing yourself with a new vision of things, a new way to manage your thoughts, of perceiving people and experiencing the world.

Buddhism teaches various ways of making this “familiarization” work. The three principal ways are antidotes, liberation, and utilization. The first consists of applying a specific antidote to each negative emotion. The second allows us to unravel, or “liberate,” the emotion by looking straight at it and letting it dissolve as it arises. The third uses the raw power of emotion as a catalyst for inner change. The choice of one method over another will depend on the moment, the circumstances, and the capacities of the person using them. All share a common aspect and the same goal: to help us stop being victims of conflicting emotions.

THE USE OF ANTIDOTES

The first method consists of neutralizing afflictive emotions with a specific antidote, just as we neutralize the destructive effects of poison with antivenom, or of acid with an alkali. One fundamental point emphasized by Buddhism is that two diametrically opposed mental processes cannot form simultaneously. We may fluctuate rapidly between love and hatred, but we cannot feel in the same instant of consciousness the desire to hurt someone and to do him good. The two impulses are as opposed to each other as water and fire. As the philosopher Alain has written: “One movement precludes the other; when you extend a friendly hand, you cannot make a fist.”⁴

In the same way, by habituating your mind to altruistic love, you gradually eliminate hatred, because the two states of mind can alternate but cannot coexist. So the more we cultivate loving-kindness, the less space there will be for hatred in our mental landscape. It is therefore important to begin by learning the antidotes that correspond to each negative emotion, and then to cultivate them. These antidotes are to the psyche what antibodies are to the body.

Since altruistic love acts as a direct antidote to hatred, the more we develop it, the more the desire to harm will wither and finally disappear. It is not a question of suppressing hatred but of turning the mind to something diametrically opposed to it: love and compassion. Following a traditional Buddhist practice, you begin by recognizing your own aspiration to happiness, then extend that aspiration to those you love, and ultimately to all people—friends, strangers, and enemies. Little by little, altruism and benevolence will saturate your mind until it becomes second nature. In this way, training yourself in altruistic thought can offer lasting protection against chronic animosity and aggression. This will also be accompanied by a genuine readiness to act for the benefit of others.

It is equally impossible for greed or desire to coexist with inner freedom. Desire can fully develop only when it is allowed to run rampant to the point where it monopolizes the mind. The trap here is the fact that desire, and its ally pleasure, are not ugly like hatred. They are even extremely seductive. But the silken threads of desire, which seem so light at first, soon tighten, and the soft garment they had woven becomes a straitjacket. The more you struggle, the tighter it becomes.

In the worst cases, desire can drive us continuously to seek satisfaction at any cost; the more satisfaction seems to elude us, the more it obsesses us. On the other hand, when we contemplate its disturbing aspects and turn our minds toward developing inner calm, the obsession of desire can begin to melt like snow in the sun. Make no mistake—there’s no question here of ceasing to love those whose lives we share, or of becoming indifferent to them. When we stop projecting the insatiable demands of our attachments onto people, we are able to love them more and to feel genuine concern for their true well-being.

As for anger, it can be neutralized by patience. This does not require us to remain passive, but to steer clear of being overwhelmed by destructive emotions. As the Dalai Lama explains: “Patience safeguards our peace of mind in the face of adversity. . . . It is a deliberate response (as opposed to an unreasoned reaction) to the strong negative thoughts and emotions that tend to arise when we encounter harm.”⁵

You may object: “That’s all very well in a perfect world, but human feelings are ambivalent by nature. We can love and envy at the same time. The complexity and richness of our feelings let us experience conflicting emotions simultaneously.” We can feel deep love for a companion and despise him at the same time because he is betraying us. But is that really love? In the sense by which we have defined it, love is the wish for the person we love to be happy and to understand the causes of that happiness. True love and hatred cannot coexist, because the former wish is for the other’s happiness, and the latter for his unhappiness. Attachment, desire, and possessiveness often accompany love but are not love. They can coexist with hatred because it is not their opposite. There definitely are mental states that are completely incompatible: pride and humility, envy and joy, generosity and avarice, calm and agitation. No ambivalence between these pairs is possible. With introspection we will be able to distinguish between the emotions that enhance our joy in living from those that diminish it.

FREEING THE EMOTIONS

The second method is liberation, in which, rather than trying to stem each emotion that afflicts us with its specific antidote, we use a single antidote that acts at a more basic level on all our mental afflictions. It is neither possible nor desirable to suppress the mind’s natural activities, and it would be futile and unhealthy to try to block its thoughts. When we examine the emotions, we find that they are dynamic flows without any inherent substance of their own—in Buddhist terms, “empty” of real existence. What would happen if, instead of counteracting a disturbing emotion with its opposite—anger with patience, for instance—we were simply to contemplate the nature of the emotion itself?

You are overwhelmed by a sudden tide of anger. You feel as if there’s no choice but to let it sweep you away. But look closely. It is nothing more than a thought. When you see a great black cloud in a stormy sky, it seems so solid that you could sit on it. But when you approach it, there’s nothing to grab on to; it is only vapor and wind. The experience of anger is like having a high fever. It is a temporary condition, and you do not need to identify with it. The more you look at anger in this manner, the more it evaporates under your gaze, like white frost under the sun’s rays.

Where does anger come from, how does it evolve, where does it disappear to? All we can say for sure is that it is born in the mind, lingers there a moment or two, and then dissolves there, like waves that arise from the ocean and dissolve back into it. But a close examination of anger finds nothing substantial, nothing that can explain its tyrannical influence over our lives. Unless we pursue this investigation, we end up being fixated on the object of anger and overtaken by destructive emotion. If, on the other hand, we come to see that anger has no substance of its own, it rapidly loses all power. This is what Khyentse Rinpoche has to say on the matter:

Remember that a thought is only the fleeting conjunction of myriad factors and circumstances. It does not exist by itself. When a thought arises, recognize its empty nature. It will immediately lose its power to elicit the next thought, and the chain of delusion will be broken. Recognize that emptiness of thoughts and allow your thoughts to rest a moment in the relaxed mind so that the mind’s natural clarity remains limpid and unchanged.⁶

This is what Buddhism calls liberation from anger at the moment it arises by recognizing its emptiness, its lack of its own existence. This liberation happens spontaneously, like the image I evoked earlier of a sketch drawn on the surface of the water. In so doing, we have not suppressed our anger but neutralized its power to become a cause of suffering.

More often than not, we come to understand this only after the crisis has passed. It is at the very moment of anger’s emergence that we must recognize its empty nature. That understanding will strip thoughts of their power to build into a stream of obsession and oppression. They cross the mind with-out leaving a trace, like the trackless flight of a bird through the sky.

This technique can be used for all mental afflictions; it helps us to build a bridge between the exercise of meditation and our daily concerns. Once we get used to looking at thoughts the moment they appear and then allowing them to dissipate before they overwhelm the mind, it is much easier to maintain control over the mind and to manage the conflictive emotions in our active lives. To spur our vigilance and hard work, we should try to recall the bitter suffering that destructive emotions have caused us.

USING THE EMOTIONS AS CATALYSTS

The third technique for neutralizing afflictive emotions is the most subtle and the trickiest. When we look closely at our emotions, we find that, like musical notes, they are made up of numerous elements, or harmonics. Anger rouses us to action and often allows us to overcome obstacles. It also contains aspects of clarity, focus, and effectiveness that are not harmful in and of themselves. Desire has an element of bliss that is distinct from attachment; pride, an element of self-confidence that can be firm without lapsing into arrogance; envy, a drive to act that cannot be confused with the unhealthy dissatisfaction it entails.

As difficult as it is to separate these various aspects, it is possible to recognize and use the positive facets of a thought generally considered to be negative. In effect, what gives an emotion its noxious quality is the way we identify with and cling to it. This triggers a chain reaction during which the initial spark of clarity and focus becomes anger and hostility. The skills we gain from meditation experience help us to intervene before the reaction is initiated.

Emotions are not inherently disturbing, though they seem so the moment we identify with and hold on to them. The pure consciousness of which we have spoken, and which is the source of all mental events, is neither good nor bad in and of itself. Thoughts become disturbing only once the process of “fixation” is set in motion, when we attach ourselves to the qualities we attribute to the object of the emotion and to the self that is feeling it.

Once we learn to avoid that fixation, we do not need to bring in antidotes from the outside; the emotions themselves act as catalysts for freeing ourselves of their baneful influence. This happens because our point of view changes. When we fall into the sea, it is the water itself that buoys us and allows us to swim to shore. But we still need to know how to swim—that is, to have enough skill to exploit the emotions to good effect without drowning in their negative aspects.

This kind of practice requires great command of the language of the emotions. Allowing powerful emotions to express themselves without falling prey to them is playing with fire, or rather, trying to snatch a jewel from a snake’s head. If we succeed, our understanding of the nature of the mind will grow accordingly; if we fail, we will find ourselves overwhelmed by the negative qualities of anger and its hold on us will be strengthened.

THREE TECHNIQUES, ONE GOAL

We have seen first how we can counteract each negative emotion with its specific antidote; then, how recognizing the empty nature of thoughts can neutralize any afflictive emotion; and, finally, how we can also use the negative emotion in a positive way. The contradictions here are only apparent ones. These techniques are simply different ways of tackling the same problem and achieving the same result: not to fall victim to the afflictive emotions and the suffering they lead to. In the same vein, it is easy to imagine several ways to avoid being poisoned by a toxic plant. We can use antidotes developed to neutralize the effects of specific poisons. We can also identify the source of our vulnerability to such poisons, our immune system, and then, in a single operation, strengthen that system with a universal resistance to all of them. We can, finally, analyze the poisons, isolate their component elements, and discover that some, applied in appropriate dosage, have medicinal qualities.

The important thing is that in each case we reach the same goal of freeing ourselves from negative emotions and progressing toward freedom from suffering. Each of these techniques is like a key; it makes little difference whether it be made of iron, silver, or gold, so long as it opens the door to freedom.

We must never forget, however, that the source of disturbing emotions is attachment to the self. If we want to be free of inner suffering once and for all, it is not enough to rid ourselves of the emotions themselves; we must eliminate our attachment to the ego. Is that possible? It is, because as we’ve seen, the ego exists merely as mental imputation. A concept can be dispelled, but only by the wisdom that perceives that the ego is devoid of intrinsic existence.

EMOTIONS IN TIME

The emotions can sometimes be so powerful that they allow no space for reflection and cannot be controlled at the moment they express themselves. Paul Ekman writes of the “refractory” period during which we are aware only of what justifies our anger or any other strong emotion.⁷ We are completely impervious to anything that might help us see that the object of our anger is not as hateful as we think it is.

This is how Alain describes the process: “The passions entrap us. A really angry man performs a truly dramatic, brightly lit tragedy in his own head, laying out all his enemy’s faults, ruses, preparations, scorn, plans for the future. Everything is interpreted through the lens of anger, and the anger is thereby strengthened.”⁸ In such cases there is no choice other than to work on these emotions after they have subsided. It is only once the tides of passion have receded that we come to see how biased our vision of things has been. It is only then that we are surprised to find how our emotions have manipulated and led us into error. We had imagined that our anger was entirely justified, but in order to be legitimate it ought to have done more good than bad, which it rarely does. “Positive anger,” or rather indignation, can disrupt the status quo of an unacceptable situation or make someone understand that she is acting hurtfully, but such anger, inspired solely by selflessness, is rare. More often than not, our anger will have hurt someone while leaving us in a state of deep dissatisfaction. We should never underestimate the power of the mind to create and crystallize worlds of hatred, greed, jealousy, euphoria, or despair.

With the help of experience, we can deal with negative emotions before they surface. We can “see them coming” and learn to distinguish those that bring suffering from those that contribute to happiness. The techniques we have described can help us to better manage our emotions, which will gradually stop overwhelming us. In order to prevent forest fires in times of drought, the forester cuts firebreaks, lays up stores of water, and remains alert. He knows very well that it’s easier to extinguish a spark than an inferno.

At a later stage, growing knowledge and mastery of the mind will allow us to deal with our emotions at the very moment they appear, as they express themselves. That, as we’ve seen, is how the emotions that assail us are “liberated” as they form. They become incapable of sowing confusion in the mind and of being converted into words and acts that generate suffering. This method calls for perseverance, because we are not accustomed to dealing with thoughts in this manner.

Contrary to what one might imagine, inner freedom with respect to the emotions leads to neither apathy nor indifference. Life does not lose its color. It is simply that instead of being the plaything of our afflictive thoughts, moods, and disposition, we become their master. Not like a tyrant who exerts relentless and obsessive control over his subjects, but like a free human being who is master of his own fate.

At this point conflictive mental states give way to a rich palette of wholesome emotions that interact with other people on the basis of a fluid apprehension of reality. Wisdom and compassion become the predominant influences on our thoughts, words, and deeds.

EXERCISE

Freeing Emotions Directly

Bring to mind a situation in which you felt very angry and try to relive this experience. When anger arises, focus your attention on the anger itself instead of on its object. Don’t unite with the anger but look at it as a separate phenomenon. As you keep on just observing the anger, it will gradually evaporate under your gaze.

It may keep on surging in your mind and you may feel unable to pacify it. It remains so vivid because your mind is drawn helplessly and repeatedly back toward the object of your resentment. The object becomes like a target, and each time you return to it, a mental spark is triggered and the emotion gets rekindled. You feel as if it has invaded your mind and that you are caught in a vicious circle. Instead of turning your attention to the “target,” simply stare attentively at the emotion itself. You will see that it cannot sustain itself and soon runs out of steam.

Using the experience you gain during meditation sessions, try to apply this process of liberation in your daily life. With time, your anger will grow ever more transparent and your irritability will wane.

Practice in the same way with obsessive desire, envy, and other painful emotions.

A LONG-TERM ENDEAVOR

Most contemporary psychological research into the regulation of the emotions has focused on how to control and modulate the emotions after they have flooded the mind. What seems to be missing is the recognition of the central role that heightened awareness and clarity of mind—the “mindfulness” of Buddhism—can play in the process. Recognizing the emotion at the very moment it forms, understanding that it is but a thought, devoid of intrinsic existence, and allowing it to dissipate spontaneously so as to avoid the chain reaction it would normally unleash are all at the heart of Buddhist contemplative practice.

The mastery of any discipline—music, medicine, mathematics, and so on—requires intensive training. And yet it would seem that in the West—with the exception of psychoanalysis, whose results are at best uncertain—long-term, persistent efforts are not readily undertaken to transform emotional conditions. The very goal of psychoanalysis is different from that of positive psychology and Buddhism, which strive not merely to “normalize” our neurotic way of functioning in the world. The condition generally considered to be “normal” is just the starting point, not the goal. Our life is worth far more than that! Martin Seligman once told me, “The best it [psychoanalysis] can do is to bring us from minus ten to zero.”

Most methods derived by Western psychology to effect lasting change in affective states focus above all on treating manifestly pathological conditions. According to a recent article by Western and Buddhist psychologists,

With a few notable exceptions—among which the development of “positive psychology”—no effort has been invested in cultivating positive attributes of mind for individuals not suffering from mental disorders. It is important to underscore the fact that training for expertise in virtually any domain requires considerable practice. . . . Western approaches to bringing about changes in enduring emotional states or traits do not include such long-term persistent effort. Not even psychoanalysis typically involves the decades Buddhists consider required to cultivate sukha.⁹

Such effort, however, is eminently desirable. We need to get rid of mental toxins and at the same time to cultivate states of mind that contribute to emotional balance and ensure the optimal flourishing of a truly healthy mind. A great many conflictive emotions are mental disorders. A person in the grip of fierce hatred or obsessive envy cannot reasonably be considered sound-minded, even if he is not obviously a candidate for psychiatry. Because such emotions are integrated into our daily lives, the importance or even urgency of dealing with them seems less clear. As a result, the idea of training the mind is not among modern man’s pressing concerns on the order of work, cultural activities, physical exercise, and leisure.

We have to understand that we are enormously resistant to change. I am talking not about the alacrity with which our society embraces superficial novelty trends, but about a profound inertia with respect to any genuine transformation of our way of being. Most of the time we don’t even want to hear about the possibility of change, and we prefer to sneer at those who seek alternative solutions. Nobody really wants to be angry, jealous, or swollen with pride, but every time we give in to those emotions, our excuse is that it’s perfectly normal, just a part of life’s ups and downs. So what’s the point of changing? Be yourself! Have fun, get a new car, a new lover, have it all, get high, but whatever you do don’t touch the essence, because that calls for real work. An attitude like that would be perfectly justified if we were really satisfied with our lot. But are we? As Alain, again, has written: “The insane are proselytizers and, above all, are reluctant to be cured.”

And yet once we’ve begun our work of introspection, we find that the transformation isn’t nearly so painful as we’d imagined. On the contrary, as soon we’ve decided to undergo such an inner metamorphosis, even if we inevitably run into a few difficulties, we soon discover a joy in the work that makes each step a new satisfaction. We feel freedom and strength growing within us, crowding out our anxieties and fears. The sense of insecurity gives way to confidence tinged with joie de vivre, and chronic selfishness to friendly altruism.

A late teacher of mine, Sengdrak Rinpoche, lived on the mountainous border between Nepal and Tibet for more than thirty years. He told me that when he began his retreats as a teenager, he experienced some very hard years. His emotions were so powerful he thought he would go mad. And then, little by little, as he learned the various ways of dealing with the emotions, he acquired inner freedom. Ever since, every moment had been nothing but pure joy for him. And it showed! He was one of the most simple, lighthearted, and comforting people I’ve ever met. I felt as if outward difficulties would slide off him like water off a rose petal. When he spoke, his eyes sparkled with delight and he gave such an impression of buoyancy that I expected him to fly off like a bird.

Few of us would regret the years it takes to complete an education or master a crucial skill. So why complain about the perseverance needed to become a well-balanced and truly compassionate human being?