The Buddha Was Wrong

I have a confession to make: I’ve been feeling pretty great lately. 

I just turned 50 and celebrated with friends and family. It’s springtime in New York. We’re vaccinated and healthy. And I don’t wake up in cold sweats over politics anymore. 

Clearly, the Buddha was wrong! Forget meditation. External circumstances are the key to happiness.

So… should I get a different job?

True, Happier isn’t actually Buddhist – definitely not in the religious sense that the vast majority of the world’s Buddhist understand that term. But we are Buddhist-adjacent. Mindfulness meditation and the wisdom it tends to generate do come from Buddhist sources. And it’s no secret that most of our core teachers also teach in Buddhist centers and contexts.

Fortunately, I don’t really think the Buddha was wrong about happiness. Like everyone else, he knew that people are happy when things go well, and unhappy when they go badly. Unlike many other people, though, he observed that those “things” are constantly changing and never permanently satisfying, so it’s impossible to depend on them for lasting happiness, the kind that is as present in April of 2020 as in May of 2021.

In fact, contrary to my clickbaity title, I’ve noticed these last few weeks illustrating the core truths of these Buddhist-derived traditions of meditation and wisdom. Here are three examples.

First, now is an exceptionally clear time to see the radical impermanence and conditioned nature of our inner lives. Like many people, I found that getting my literal shot in the arm brought on waves of emotion, even though I didn’t change my behavior until weeks later. I felt joy, relief, gratitude for scientists and healthcare workers, as well as a fair amount of fresh grief over all that had been lost over the past year. 

Of course, there is plenty still to be concerned about: the tragedies in India and Brazil, the dangers posed by variants and anti-vaxxers. It’s not that everything is great. But subjectively, it was an amazing transformation to observe.

Most of us tend to think of ourselves as, well, responsible for ourselves. My moods are my business. But it’s been so obvious, over these last few weeks, how those moods are conditioned by circumstances. The conditions for happiness appear – boom, happiness arises. And sadness. And anxiety.

So whose feelings are these, anyway? If my inner life is really just a more complex version of Pavlov’s Dog, who or what is this ego I’m so invested in protecting all the time? Clearly, I am not nearly as in control as I think I am.

Second, I’ve noticed the subtle distinction between changing your mood on the one hand, and relating to all moods differently on the other.

Now, for many people, meditation is precisely about changing your mood. You start out stressed, you end up relaxed. And that’s fine; it works for that purpose.

But that is really only the side-dish of meditation. The main course is relating to whatever moods arise, pleasant or unpleasant, with an attitude of acceptance, equanimity, awareness and self-compassion. 

Do you see the difference? Maybe you still feel anxious after meditating, but if you’re saying to yourself “Wow, that’s a lot of anxiety, that’s hard,” with that degree of self-awareness and self-compassion, that is the main course. It’s the meta-cognition that changes the brain, and it’s the self-compassion that heals the heart.

So, over these last few weeks, many times I’ve been able to note, “Hmm, this is some nice joy, that’s great! Of course, who knows what’s coming next.” I’ve been able to relate to the joy with a little more looseness and wisdom. I’ve tried to enjoy the wave while at the same time not being totally swept up by it, just as, when things were tough, I tried to accept the difficult emotions while not being swept away by them either. That feels like a meditation goldmine. 

Finally, I’ve learned to really appreciate the value of this kind of relating.

When I was just starting out in meditation, I used to resent this inner scold, ruining every good time by saying “Don’t get too attached now!” (I hear that in a nasally, pedantic voice.) Jeez, I thought, can’t I just enjoy myself?

As time has gone by, though, I’ve noticed that I enjoy the joy more when I’m more mindful of it. It doesn’t escape my notice, and I don’t take it for granted. I get to seize the day and suck the marrow out of life even more than before. And I see it for what it is: delightful, fleeting, transitory. I don’t find that wisdom to be dour; I find it enlivening. Enjoy!

In fact, what’s “wrong” isn’t the Buddha, but a certain misconception about meditation. The point isn’t to “Zen out” and never feel any feelings. It’s to be as present in the ups and the downs, mindfully aware, compassionate, awake. Ah! Here comes another moment. Can I relate to it with awareness, with equanimity, with acceptance, and with love?