Showing posts with label anger. Show all posts
Showing posts with label anger. Show all posts

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

Is Anger Always a Bad Thing?


In response to a quote by Thich Nhat Hanh: "Anger and hatred are the materials from which hell is made. A mind without anger is cool, fresh, and sane." (Peace is Every Step), a friend of mine asked me, "Is anger always a bad thing?" The following was my written response:

When I see someone mistreat a dog, does it make me angry? Yes, it does. Is that bad? That question is really of no value because "bad" is too vague. Two better questions are, "What effect does my anger have?" and "What are the real causes of my anger?"

My anger has many effects, some of which are as follows: My heart and breathing rates increase; my mind races; my muscles shake due to the adrenaline surge; my stomach tightens. These effects are now causes of subsequent effects, some of which I'll list:

(1) Science has shown that adrenaline surges arising from anger, jealousy, fear, etc. have a different physiological effect than adrenaline arising from, say, playing a sport or an active game. The former are considered "bad stressors" that have a deleterious effect on our bodies, leading to classic signs of stress such as increased chances for a heart attack, etc. The latter do not have this effect on the body. So right there, we see one major long-term problem with the energy given us by anger.

(2) When my mind is racing, it is increasingly difficult for me to make well-thought-out, logical decisions. The more my mind races in anger, the harder it is for me to think straight (e.g., the proverbial "seeing red"). If I cannot think straight, I will make mistakes: I will misinterpret phenomena, I will say and/or do things I should not (things that are unnecessarily harmful to others and myself), I will rush decisions and actions, etc. I feel very safe in stating--from my very own personal experience--that any good decision I make while angry is solely the product of luck, and sometimes a product of me being able to slow myself down enough to actually think through what I am about to say or do. I have never, not once in my life, made a decision or performed an action out of anger that I have anger to thank for it.

A common rebuttal to this is that anger gives you energy and the ability to do things like escape captors, etc. I disagree completely. The energy anger gives you was available to you all along; and if you're a prisoner of some sort, and the chance comes for escape, you don't need anger to supply that energy--it should be there as a function of other emotions and instincts such as the will to survive. The most inspiring thing I've read is a story of a Tibetan monk that was imprisoned and tortured for years in a Chinese prison.

Returning to my example about somebody mistreating a dog, the effects I get from anger do not, in any way, help me to help that dog. Responding out of anger at the person or action results in nothing better than responding out of compassion for the dog, and the anger can only result in me making bad decisions in the process of trying to help. So, just on the basis of analyzing its effects, anger is almost self-evidently harmful.

Now let's discuss "the real causes of my anger." Why am I angry at the person or the action instead of feeling compassion for the dog? (in reality, I feel both, but in this example, the anger response is more powerful, more in the forefront) Anger comes out first or more powerfully than compassion if I have sown its seeds in my past more often than I have compassion. Every single time I respond with anger, I sow its seeds in my mind. Each time I do so, that makes it easier for me to respond in anger next time. So, a major cause of why I'm responding in anger is because I have done so before! What solution is there to this self-generating behavior? Mindfulness. If I first calm my anger (because, as we've discussed, I can't think clearly while angry), and then examine it with focused mindfulness, I can begin to see anger's real cause: I'm angry at the person or his actions because I'm unable to see or understand the real causes for his behavior. Maybe he is mentally disturbed, in which case it's not entirely his fault. Maybe he was beaten as a child and this is his learned response. Maybe he's just had a bad day and is taking it out on his dog. None of those justify his behavior! But if my initial reaction were to see that he is harming the dog due to causes in his life that I do not know, then I can respond to him out of compassion for him, and anger has no need to surface and cause all the harmful effects we've already discussed! This compassion generates the same amount of energy as anger, and I am not hindered by anger's harmful effects, and as a side-bonus, I am generating seeds of compassion, which will make compassion more likely to arise in the future! In this way, I can help the dog just as effectively without anger.

This response wouldn't be complete if I didn't touch on the fact that anger has obviously played a role in our survival as a species, hence why such an emotion evolved in the first place. In humanity's early years, survival was predominantly a factor of responding to immediate environmental threats. I don't deny in the least that the adrenaline provided by anger is immediate--faster than most other emotions. But that just goes to show what its value was--when we were about to be taken down by a predator, a flash of anger facilitated our fight or flight response. However, as our civilizations developed, this type of danger has become much less common, and while it might be useful to generate anger in a pure fight-or-flight situation, in anything that requires any semblance of strategic thought (such as fighting in the military!), anger is more of a detriment than a help.

One more situation to touch on before I sign off: that of seeing one's loved ones harmed. This is probably the easiest situation in which to justify anger. If my wife was harmed, would I get angry? Yes! However, I feel that an analysis of anger makes it obvious that such a response is not only harmful, but unnecessary. If she were in danger, there is absolutely no reason whatsoever for me to be angry at the person endangering her. The most important thing is to get her to safety and neutralize the danger. As I said before, if pure fight-or-flight was all that was needed, then perhaps generating anger would be the fastest way to go about it. But if any sort of thought is required, such as handling a delicate situation of being held at gunpoint, anger is probably the worst emotion you could possibly experience at that time. Once she's out of danger, then shouldn't I be angry at the person? No. The person deserves to be punished in whatever way our justice system determines, for the safety of society. But me being angry at the person is only reflective of one thing: my lack of insight into the causes of his behavior. As that Tibetan monk illustrated, compassion is still the ideal response, and one that I hope my practice will develop as my primary response in this lifetime.

Monday, April 02, 2007

Interfaith Blog Event #5: The Role of Forgiveness



Welcome to the fifth Interfaith Blog Event! In each installment of this series, which we're hoping to do on a monthly basis, we'll explore a single topic across three different religious traditions. I am, obviously, writing from the Mahayana Buddhist tradition. Jon, from Jesusfollowers Journal, will be writing from a Protestant Christian perspective, and Sojourner from A Pagan Sojourn, will be writing from a Pagan perspective.

The topic we'll be discussing today is the following:
What role does the concept and application of interpersonal forgiveness play in your spiritual tradition?
(Links will be provided as they become available)
[Jon's Essay] [Sojourner's Essay]



At one time, in a life prior to that in which he became the Enlightened One, the soon-to-be-Buddha was a Bodhisattva named Khantivadi. One day, he visited the city of Benares and sat to meditate under a tree. While he was meditating, the King passed him with his harem and, having seen the Bodhisattva, interrupted his meditation to ask him what virtue he was practicing. The Bodhisattva replied that his practice was that of forbearance. The King, of the opinion that virtuous practice was worthless and a weakness, summoned his executioner and instructed him to cut off the hands and feet of the Bodhisattva. As the executioner did so, the King asked the Bodhisattva what value his practice of forbearance was now that his limbs were being cut off. The Bodhisattva replied that his forbearance and other virtues were not in his limbs but in his mind. He extended his loving-kindness to the King. The King, angered by his failure to upset the Bodhisattva, kicked him in the stomach and left him lying, without hands and feet, on the forest floor.

Soon thereafter, the King's minister heard of the King's cruel actions and hurried to the side of the Bodhisattva. Seeing him lying in the dirt, dying, the minister bowed deeply and said to him, "Venerable one, none of us agreed to this cruel act of the King and we are all sorrowing over what has been done to you by that devilish man. We ask you to curse the King but not us." The Bodhisattva responded, "May that king who has caused my hands and feet to be cut off, as well as you, live long in happiness." Having spoken thus, he died.

(The Elimination of Anger. Ven. K. Piyatissa Thera.)


According to the New Oxford American Dictionary, the verb "to forgive" has the following definition: "Stop feeling angry or resentful toward someone for an offense, flaw, or mistake." In the story I related above about one of the Buddha's past lives, we saw a most extreme example of cruelty toward the then-Bodhisattva. Such cruelty easily qualifies as an "offense, flaw, or mistake." And yet, the Bodhisattva did not respond in anger, nor experience any resentfulness. Therefore, in an ultimate sense, forgiveness plays no role in Buddhism, as anger or resentfulness toward someone for an offense does not occur.

Through observation of ourselves and our true nature, we learn that anger is solely the result of deluded thinking. Why do we feel anger or resentfulness when someone offends us? We experience such feelings because we think some combination of the following: "How dare they do that to me," "They should know better," and "Why me?" Slowing down and looking deeply at your anger will reveal the obvious truth that anger arises based on these factors. But it's not just the arising of these causes, but our attachment to them, that causes anger to escalate. Let's examine what happens when we get really angry. A person does something, and immediately our minds respond by flooding our system with adrenaline and thinking, "How DARE he do that to ME!" That thought consumes our minds--we become attached. We think it over and over, which stokes the flames of our anger. Soon we are white-hot. When our practice is strong, we can notice the initial cause of anger as it arises, and immediately douse the embers, as we know through our experience and deep looking that the only result of anger is to cause harm to us and harm to others. As we perfect our wisdom, anger and resentfulness do not arise at all, as in the case of the Bodhisattva above. Therefore, without the arising of anger or resentfulness, forgiveness has no relevance, as is clear from its definition.

All that being said, however, interpersonal forgiveness plays a very important role in Buddhism. The vast majority of us still become angry or resentful of others when we are wronged. In Buddhism, we speak of the three defilements of anger, greed, and delusion. These three defilements poison our minds and are the underlying causes of all suffering and the primary impediments to true love and compassion. Therefore, it is our primary practice as Buddhists to eradicate these defilements from our minds.

Since Buddhism is a path, not a dogmatic religion, it values any practice that will help one proceed along the path toward eliminating suffering and perfecting wisdom and compassion--even if that practice must ultimately be let go of after achieving its relative purpose. Forgiveness is such a practice. Even though, as I've explained above, forgiveness has no absolute relevance (i.e. after anger and resentfulness have been eliminated from the mind), it carries extreme importance on the Buddhist path in that it helps us eliminate suffering and perfect our wisdom and compassion. In Buddhism, we use the analogy of "seeds" being planted in the mind. We respond in anger because seeds of anger have been planted by our past actions (karma). For example, as children we watch our parents respond to certain things in anger. We love and respect our parents, and thereby we plant a seed of anger in our minds. Perhaps we try responding angrily ourselves, and thereby plant another seed. Each and every time we allow a seed of anger to sprout, we also plant another seed. The further we allow anger to escalate when it does sprout, the more seeds are planted. Hence, any practice that will help us to recognize anger early in the process and arrest its escalation will help us plant fewer and fewer seeds of anger in our unconscious. Forgiveness is such a practice.

Let's examine why this is so. Let's say our spouse forgets to pay an important bill. We notice the unpaid bill on the desk two days after it is due, and anger arises because we connect the unpaid bill to a worsening of our credit rating, a late payment fee, and our spouse's irresponsibility. A seed of anger planted previously has sprouted, and we now have two choices. We can choose to attach to the "results" of the unpaid bill, and let them stew in our minds, which will escalate our anger. We will eventually confront our spouse, and our anger will make such confrontation hostile and hurtful, in addition to planting further seeds of anger that will sprout in the future. We have a second choice of response, however. We can choose to forgive our spouse for this mistake, recognizing that she did not forget on purpose, but due to stress at work or some other similar cause. When we truly forgive our spouse, our anger immediately ceases. Then when we confront our spouse, we do so out of love and compassion, rather than anger. Forgiveness, therefore, is a beautiful Buddhist practice with many wonderful results: it stops the poison of anger in its tracks; it stops the personal suffering anger causes us; it protects us from causing harm to others when we act out of anger; it trains us to recognize and transcend anger earlier and earlier in the process; it prevents us from planting additional seeds of anger; and it teaches us how to act out of pure compassion and love.

Therefore, interpersonal forgiveness is a practice with a very important role in practical Buddhism. Eventually we will reach the point at which we have eliminated anger and, hence, the need for forgiveness. But until that time, forgiveness is a spiritual practice with innumerable benefits to all beings.

Saturday, January 13, 2007

Impact of Buddhism on Everyday Life


(Cross-posted to A Pagan Sojourn)


"How has your religion changed your daily, everyday life?"

"As human beings we all want to be happy and free from misery…we have learned that the key to happiness is inner peace. The greatest obstacles to inner peace are disturbing emotions such as anger and attachment, fear and suspicion, while love, compassion, and a sense of universal responsibility are the sources of peace and happiness." (Dalai Lama)

Buddhism is a religion based upon empirical testing and observation. As the Dalai Lama notes in the quote above, the key to true happiness is inner peace. The primary manner in which Buddhism has changed my life is by showing me the means to obtain such happiness. And by that, I don't mean through pedagogic discourse but through not only giving me the tools to examine myself and my world directly, but also by making it clear that examining the world for myself is the only method by which I can discover the way to happiness--being told about it or reading about it won't get me very far.

In a sense, Buddhism has given me a toolkit with which to examine all aspects of myself and the world around me. Through application of mindfulness, I can slow down and examine the minutest aspects of phenomena. Of course, the ability to do this takes much time to develop--I certainly am not at the point of being able to be mindful to that degree--but the tools allow me to see progress for myself. What's the benefit of mindfulness of this type? As the Dalai Lama stated, anger is one of the primary impediments to happiness. As I slow myself down and look at anger as it arises, I can begin to see it for what it is--a body-less emotion that I, solely, am responsible for generating. Only with mindfulness can I avoid attaching to my anger, which prevents it from controlling me. I can then directly observe its causes, the conditions required for it appear in me, and the ultimate effect it has on my peace of mind and others around me. It is only through this method that I can see for myself the true damage that anger causes me, the effect it has on my inner peace. And it is only through this method that I can observe the true nature of anger.

This same process allows me to examine happiness in life. As the Dalai Lama stated, inner peace is the key to true happiness. But doesn't buying stuff make us happy too? Doesn't a good meal make us happy? Yes, but those happinesses are fleeting, impermanent, and ultimately unsatisfactory. How do I know this? Through mindfulness. Looking directly with penetrating insight at the feelings that arise when I buy something I really want makes it clear that this feeling is based on attachment. I see that after the initial thrill wears off, I need to buy something else to continue the "high." Is that really true happiness?

Buddhism has truly given me the tools to work with my everyday life, to see the true nature of every aspect of myself. It has given me a stronger peace of mind, and I've observed for myself the increase in happiness that comes with such inner peace. I'm thankful for coming to Buddhism when I did because it has allowed me to see for myself the things I do that are wholesome and beneficial, and the things I do that are unwholesome and harmful. It has also given me a 2,500 year old proven process to increase the wholesome and decrease the unwholesome.

Wednesday, July 19, 2006

Response to Bible Battles Essay


A good friend of mine just started up a blog (the Pastor friend I've referred to in past posts here), and here he posted an interesting essay on a History Channel show called Bible Battles. In this show, they have military historians examine some of the battles in the Old Testament from a strategic and tactical perspective—it's quite neat! However, also in the show, one of the historians started pontificating on theological themes, which is the part of the show Jon commented upon.

For the most part, I agree with Jon's analysis. The historian was an expert in military history, and his contributions to the show on this topic were very good. However, he really was out of his element in commenting so briefly upon theological matters. The problem, honestly, was less that he decided to comment on his religious views and more that he did not preface them with something like, "I cannot conceive of a God who..." or "In my view, such a God..." Instead, he stated it as, "A God such as this could only..."

From Jon's essay: "A merciless attack on a series of cities would convince others of the need to move to a different area."
I agree with this as well. In this story, if God's desire was to drive out the Caananites, a "shock and awe" strategy would be effective and less bloody, in the long run.

"These kinds of land displacements were common in the Ancient Near East."

And yes, this was a pretty violent time in history. Tribes frequently attacked other tribes for territorial expansion, with their local tribal god leading the way. The Israelites were no different.

However, here is where I part ways with his analysis.
"Their noxious religious behavior (including ritual prostitution and child sacrifice) cried out to the Creator for judgment."

Ok, their actions are pretty sick by today's standards. However, I can't agree that it cries out to the Creator for judgment. For the sake of argument, I'll assume for the moment that a creator god exists. If that's the case, that god created us and gave us free will in how to live. Therefore, to rain down judgment by killing the Caananites via the Israelites violates this gift of free will. Regardless of this (admittedly non-rigorous) argument based on logic, I have a bigger issue with this judgment. While I don't condone child sacrifice, "wholesale slaughter of every man, woman, child, and animal," which is what was instructed of the Israelites by God, disgusts me.
"There are situations that cultures become so repugnant in their morality that the only just thing for them to face is destruction. Clearly, the Nazi party needed to be destroyed for their behavior, not just reformed."

No. Clearly, we should not be exterminating entire cultures. Clearly, the minimal number of leaders of the Nazi party needed to be (ideally) captured, or (much less ideally) killed, in order to stop their horrific crimes. It is our right to defend ourselves with the minimal amount of force necessary in order to save our lives. However, I feel it is a major ethical violation (call it a sin) to go any further than is necessary. Therefore, once the Nazi party was stopped, remaining Nazis deserved imprisonment. Any more violent retribution than was strictly necessary would be a result of succumbing to anger, which is our greatest enemy.

As taught in the Kodhana Sutta:
When anger does possess a man;
He looks ugly; he lies in pain;
What benefit he may come by
He misconstrues as a mischance;
He loses property (through fines)
Because he has been working harm
Through acts of body and speech
By angry passion overwhelmed;
...
And anger fathers misery:
This fury does so cloud the mind
Of man that he cannot discern
This fearful inner danger.
An angry man no meaning knows,
No angry man sees the (Truth),
So wrapped in darkness, as if blind,
Is he whom anger dogs.

Thanks for the thought-provoking post, Jon!


Sunday, July 02, 2006

Story of a Wise Samurai

A samurai warrior once was charged with avenging a noble's death at the hands of a rival warlord. He trained for four years, studied the warlord's habits, and planned his attack. When the day came, he stealthily approached the warlord when he was alone, and cornered him. The samurai held his katana aloft, poised to strike the final blow, when the warlord, utterly defeated, spit in the face of the samurai. The samurai sheathed his sword and walked away, rather than kill the warlord out of anger.



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Saturday, July 01, 2006

One True Sin



I believe there is one sin in the world, and it's one that most of us succumb to almost constantly. So it's obviously not killing or stealing or evil speech, acts listed in the Ten Commandments and the Five Precepts that are deemed wrong or unhealthy. See, these acts are bad, but none of them would be committed if it were not for the one sin about which I'm speaking: a lack of mindfulness.

To be present in the here-and-now, to be aware with penetrating insight into that which is occurring now inside you, this is mindfulness. The past is over, and the future is yet to come, so what use is there to dwell on them? Realize that I am not knocking reflection on the past and planning for the future. Mindfulness is when you decide it's time to plan, you plan; when it is time to reflect on past actions, you reflect on past actions; when it is time to reminisce, you reminisce. When you do not wish to engage in those activities, then you do not.

I made the claim that none of those heinous acts (murder, stealing, etc.) would be committed when one is mindful. But can't one mindfully steal something? Actually, aren't the best thieves mindful because they're so aware of what's going on around them, and thus avoid getting caught? No, and here's why. True mindfulness does not refer to being mindful of the external environment (like the thief), although this, too, is present when mindfulness is present. Rather, mindfulness is being fully aware of that which is going on within you. See, when one is mindful, one will not engage in murder because the emotions that fuel murder (anger, jealousy, et al) will be noticed by mindfulness and thus will be analyzed and defused. Same with our master thief—if he were mindful, he would notice that greed is fueling his thievery and would not engage in such activity. Gossip? Rooted in attachment to our ego in most cases, or anger/vindictiveness in others. Hence mindfulness would prevent us from gossiping.

The best teaching on mindfulness that I have seen is Sayadaw U Pandita's book, The State of Mind Called Beautiful. He also has an online teaching entitled In This Very Life. Mindfulness meditation instructions are listed in the first chapter of In This Very Life. They reflect, in lesser detail, what he teaches in the book. There is also a section under Chapter 4 of In This Very Life entitled "Mindfulness" that is a good read.


Thursday, June 29, 2006

Two Guardians of the World



The Four Noble Truths mark the basis of Buddhism: 1. Life contains suffering; 2. Suffering has a cause; 3. Therefore, suffering can be ended; 4. The path that leads one to remove the causes of suffering is the Eightfold Path.

In Buddhist psychological thought, the grounds of suffering are the three unwholesome roots: Greed, Aversion, and Delusion. The thing I love about Buddhism is its completely optimistic, inspirational viewpoint: Noble Truth #3 says that suffering can be ended! Now it is solely up to us to devote ourselves to that task. We can end our suffering, but it takes great vigilance and practice. To help us in this task are the Two Guardians of the World: Moral Shame and Moral Dread.

Moral Shame and Moral Dread give us the means, and the strength, by which we can overcome the three poisons of greed, aversion, and delusion. To bring to an end the seeds of greed and hatred in our minds, we have to commit, to vow, to never engage in an action based in greed or hatred again. How do you know if you're thoroughly committed to this vow? When you fail in your vow, when you yell at your child or pet out of anger instead of compassion, when you become irritated at your co-worker, do you feel utter shame at your transgression? Do you completely dread the repercussions of such a failure? If the answer to either of these two questions is no, then you are not yet truly committed to your vow.

Moral Shame and Moral Dread are the thorough shame and fear that permeate your being at the thought of acting out of greed, anger, or delusion, and that renew your strength to continue fighting to keep your vow after you've violated it. We must work to develop these two guardians so that they keep vigilant watch over our thoughts, speech, and actions. They teach us the true peril to our very lives of delusion, greed, and anger.