A bardo is a gap, a time between times. The term is most often associated with the Tibetan Book of the Dead, which describes the bardo as the transition from this life to the next.
Generally speaking, a bardo can describe any time where our normal life is suspended. In this way, bardos can be seen as challenges or as opportunities for change.
For many of us, the COVID-19 pandemic has represented a bardo. The pandemic has made us change the way we work, play, and organize our lives.
Learning to adapt to change is a skill few of us cultivate on purpose. Humans are creatures of habit. We all resist bardos, the same way we seek control and permanence in an ever changing world.
Bardos like the pandemic remind us that nothing is certain in this life. They remind us of the foolishness of our worldly attachments. In life, as in death, bardos remind us that sometimes the only way to move forward is to simply let go.
Taṇhā is a Pali word meaning “thirst, desire, longing, or greed.” In Buddhism, Taṇhā is thought to be a source of dukkha or suffering.
There are three kinds of Taṇhā:
Kāma-taṇhā: The craving of objects and sensual pleasures.
Bhava-taṇhā: The craving to be someone or something.
Vibhava-taṇhā: The craving to be nothing or to not exist.
Bhava-taṇhā is an interesting form of craving. In its simplest form, bhava-taṇhā is the desire for certain identity. In this way it is form of craving directly rooted to the ego. At the extreme it is a desire for certain type of rebirth eternally such as a celestial being. Buddhist scholar’s label bhava-taṇhā as a form of wrong view rooted in eternalism (eternal life) and about permanence.
For western students of Buddhism (including myself), bhava-taṇhā is very difficult form of craving to overcome. Even though we see and experience the benefits of non-self through our meditation practices, a part of us clings to some form of spiritual ego. This spiritual ego desires a soul, which is an ego than transcends this life, is perfect, and is eternal.
Overcoming bhava-taṇhā begins with greater understanding of anicca and annata. Annata is the understanding that there is no fixed self, and that what we think of as our self is constantly changing. This impermanence in self and all things is referred to as anicca.
Chanda, on the other hand, means to desire or seek that which can be attained. Unlike taṇhā, chanda can be positive or negative. Examples of positive chanda include a desire to help others and to apply oneself in other positive ways. Forms of negative chanda could include selfish hoarding or activities of pure selfish desire or gain. In this way negative chanda is closely related to kāma-taṇhā.
If you are a practitioner of Buddhism, it’s important to frequently ask yourself, “Is taṇhā or positive chanda guiding me?” Both are sweet, but only positive chanda sates your “eternal” thirst.
Yesterday, I caught up with a friend from medical school, who works as a hospitalist at a busy Los Angeles hospital. As you might expect, we spoke about the pandemic and the challenges both of us have faced in our respective practices. My friend’s account mirrored what has become a common narrative in medical journals–a mix of tragedy, personal heroism, and emotional exhaustion. The more my friend spoke, the more I came to believe he was suffering from symptoms of burnout.
Burnout is a syndrome of chronic workplace stress. The three core symptoms of burnout include:
feelings of energy depletion or exhaustion
increased mental distance from one’s job or feelings negative towards one’s career
reduced professional productivity
My friend was experiencing the first two symptoms. I offered support and explored what about his work was most difficult. What my friend said surprised me. It wasn’t the number of patients, the long work hours, or the complexity of the cases that stole his energy and zest for the profession, it was the lack of respect his patients had for his expertise.
This may sound funny, but physicians sacrifice a significant amount of their lives for their profession. All physicians must complete pre-medical courses in addition to the core requirements of their Bachelor’s degree. They then enter medical school for 4 years, followed by an additional 3-6 years of residency and subspecialty training. Medical doctors are perhaps the most rigorously trained professional class in the world, and they do it all for your wellbeing.
Over the last several decades, medical sciences have suffered from politicalization much like climate science. In both cases, the results are killing people. Medical professionals must confront disinformation and conspiracy theories daily, and the effects are emotionally exhausting. My friend spoke of one unvaccinated patient who’s spouse died of COVID, but refused to accept the diagnosis. The patient then refused to get a COVID vaccine because he read it would cause sterility. Even after a lengthy effort by my friend to educate the patient, they refused to accept his scientifically validated medical advice. Not surprisingly, this patient later almost died of COVID.
There are some things in life you should not DIY. One of those things is medicine. Physicians spend their lives learning about the body, its physiology, and the mechanisms behind medical treatments like vaccines. Expertise cannot be attained by watching youtube or an online medical textbook. Medical expertise comes from years of dedicated sacrifice and study. Remember, the best source of medical advice is still your doctor.
Home ownership. It is a goal sought after by most Americans. However, for many young and old adults, this goal is looking more and more like a dream.
According to Educationdata.org, as of 2021, there are 43.2 million student borrowers who are in debt by an average of $39,351 each. Since 2003, student loan debt has grown from 330 billion to 1.7 trillion dollars. This is 6 times the growth of the U.S. economy.
In Aug 2003, the median cost of a home in the U.S. was $190,500 and the average cost $241,000. As of July 2021, the median cost rose to $390,500 and the average cost was $446,000. That’s almost double, and there is no evidence of a slowdown in sight.
According to one source, the median price of homes in the U.S. increased by 28 percent in just the last two years. Why? One reason is corporate investors. In the first quarter of 2021 alone, corporate investors bought 15 percent of U.S. homes for sale. In the past, corporations focused mostly on commercial or multi-family real estate developments; however, the newer trends appear to be focused on the single-family homes most Americans desire.
There is an important distinction to be made here. We are not talking about middle-income investors who are building real-estate investment portfolios, we’re talking about huge private equity companies buying up hundreds of homes in emerging housing markets with cash.
Even without the burden of student debt, the American dream of home ownership has never felt more out of reach. Corporate greed, student (and consumer) debt, and a lack of consumer protections, has stacked the deck against many first time buyers. Forgiving student debt and protecting single-family homes for families and small investors are two ways that we can address rising housing costs and offer a new generation a stake in the American dream.
I recently listened to a podcast featuring a renowned Buddhist scholar speaking on the topic of reincarnation. For those of you unfamiliar with the topic, many Buddhists believe that there is an essence of mind, a consciousness beyond the ego or personality of this life, that moves from one spiritual or physical incarnation to the next. Many meditators have described personal experiences of past lives, and the first Buddha, Siddhartha Gautama, is said to have remembered all past lives at the moment of his enlightenment. Yet, even he was humble and open enough to question his own enlightenment.
The topic of reincarnation is an interesting one. I personally like the idea of a continuity of existence spanning countless eons of form and experience. However, as much as I am partial to the idea, I recognize it to be a matter of faith and not ultimate truth.
For this reason, I was a little surprised (and dismayed) that the Buddhist scholar openly chided many neuroscientists who do not believe in a mind beyond that generated by the brain. Such a fundamentalist viewpoint on the part of the scholar seemed to dismiss the incredible gains made in both the psychological and physical sciences over the last century.
Buddhists are generally considered one of the more forward thinking faith traditions. His Holiness the Dalai Lama has openly embraced scientific advances. In his article, Science at the Crossroads, His Holiness discusses his own interest in science and describes the similarities between the scientific method and Buddhist philosophy.
His Holiness writes, “For example, in the Buddhist investigative tradition, between the three recognized sources of knowledge – experience, reason and testimony – it is the evidence of the experience that takes precedence, with reason coming second and testimony last. This means that, in the Buddhist investigation of reality, at least in principle, empirical evidence should triumph over scriptural authority, no matter how deeply venerated a scripture may be.”
Right now, the only “reincarnation” supported by science is a transfer of subatomic particles from one living organism to another. There is no evidence of a mind apart from the complex neural connections of the brain. As much as I want to believe that some fundamental piece of my mind has endured countless time and reality, and will continue to go on after my death, I have not the experience nor the evidence to prove it. It is, as it were, a matter of personal faith and hope. All of us want more, but few of us have the courage to accept the possibility that this is it.
Few of us can gaze at a starscape without experiencing a sense of awe. Men have tried to recreate this majesty in the temples of earth–but there is no comparison. There is something humbling about the vastness and beauty of space that both defines and transcends our existence. The matter that makes up our bodies shares a kinship with the farthest stars. We have the same beginning, and will someday share the same end.
The atomic particles that make up the stars are only the residue of the great explosion that formed the universe 14 billion years ago. Somehow, some of this matter escaped this explosion, forming the galaxies, stars, and planets.
Even though our human consciousness may be finite and new, life has existed on planet earth for at least 3.7 billion years. Over this great gulf of time, we have grown, reproduced, consumed, and been consumed. We have flown and dove, ran and slithered, touching and transforming the world as we evolved. Our existence is a tapestry of life written in the stars, and right now it is our turn to carry the thread.
Taking this greater view, what we think of as death is only a shift in awareness from one pattern of particles to the next. Just as there is no finite self, there is no static or permanent arrangement of atoms and matter. We are galaxy, and ocean, and mountain, one. And though the patterns of life and matter may change, and even the brightest stars burn out, their light will go on, received by the eyes of another stargazer, far far away.
The human brain is about 2% of the body’s weight and uses about 20% of its oxygen and calories. That’s a significant amount of energy use for an organ that only processes and transmits information through chemical/electrical signaling.
Some of these processes are unconscious, but a majority of this energy is expended for day-to-day decision making.
So, how many choices do you make in a day? A hundred? A Thousand? It may surprise you to know the answer is close to 35,000. That’s over 2000 choices every hour. That number may sound high, but every choice we make, even one as simple as choosing to read this blog, is based on a string of choices, including the decision to continue reading.
Choices create friction. They slow down our mental processes and demand energy. When caloric needs are not properly sustained, mental and emotional fatigue results. The friction of our choices must be managed for optimal cognitive functioning and success. Here are a few tips to improve cognitive processing and decrease the friction of daily choices.
Make it a habit. Habits directly decrease the number of choices we make each day. They streamline our decisions and allow pieces of our lives to run on autopilot. Simple choices such as what to wear, what to eat, and what products we use, use up cognitive reserve that might be better utilized on higher forms of self expression. Studies show good habits make us happier and healthier.
Be a minimalist. We are suffocated by stuff. Most of it sits around for years collecting dust and still we hold onto it. When we have less things to worry about, we are better able to focus on what really matters like artistic expression, spiritual activities, and relationships. Look at the stuff around you; if you haven’t used it in the last year and don’t plan to use it in the year to come, let it go.
Look for opportunities, not options. Research shows that our brains don’t see more options as opportunities. In one study, when participants were given the opportunity to choose between multiple variations of a specific item, those with fewer options were found to be more satisfied with their choice. To our brains, more choices equal more friction. In this case, we question our choice, and that questioning is emotionally exhausting.
Specialize. Being an expert at anything makes decisions easier. For example, a cardiologist can more easily diagnosis a complex cardiac condition than a primary care physician. Through study and training, they can recall essential ability to intuit subtle patterns others may miss. In essence, they arrive at their diagnosis with less friction and more certainty than those lesser trained.
One of the most basic and helpful contemplations in Buddhism are the three marks known as annata, anicca, and dukkha. Here, I will define the three marks and explore why they remain as relevant today as when the Buddha taught on them several thousand years ago.
Annatta means ‘no self.’ This sounds a little ambiguous. What it really means is that our self is constantly changing. The person we consider to be “me” is slowly being transformed into a new “me” everyday by our emotions, relationships, thoughts, choices, and environment. In fact, every choice we makes leads us farther away from the person who made that choice. How tragic! Thus, the suffering we experience through self-clinging is simply our belief in and our desire to have a fixed self and hold onto it. Sadly, it’s impossible. Meditating on annatta slowly deconditions our minds from self-attachment and creates a tremendous sense of openness and freedom. This is what many meditators call sky mind, which is really what rather than who we are. 🙂
Anicca is impermanence. For those familiar with Buddhism, we often describe existence as conditioned. Like the self, nothing in our world is permanent. If we take a step back and contemplate our existence, we see that everything we’ve loved, do love, and will love cannot last. The people we love will die. That favorite new object of our affection will become tarnished and no longer new. Try as we might, we can’t even protect ourselves from change. Most of the time we try ignore this tragic state of affairs, but that person in the mirror keeps changing, and we remember. Impermanence is tragic, but contemplations on impermanence can be a powerful motivating force. When we realize our time is finite, we choose to act with greater wisdom and grace.
Dukkha is discontent or suffering. Dukkha is the thing we spend our lives trying to avoid. The sources of suffering are well described by the Buddha as old age, sickness, and death. Dukkha is also the thing that drives us for good or bad on our journey through this life. It is this basic and fundamental discontent with existence that leads us on the spiritual journey. Contemplations on Dukkha like Anicca can be motivating. The path of Buddhism begins with a wish to be free of dukkha, and all of the meditations, sutras, tantras, and visualizations are meant to teach us how to do that. Put simply, to be free of Dukkha is enlightenment.
The Green Knight is an Arthurian legend, which tells the of Sir Gawain, youngest knight of the Round Table, and nephew and heir apparent to King Arthur. The original poem is an allegory on the importance of honesty. In the tale, a mysterious “Green” knight appears on New Year’s Eve at the castle, and challenges the bravest knight to strike him once with his axe on the condition that he may return the blow in a year’s time. Sir Gawain accepts the challenge, and decapitates the stranger, only to gawp in disbelief as the Green Knight lifts his severed head and tells Sir Gawain he will be waiting for him at the green chapel to return the blow in one year. To avoid his fate, Sir Gawain obtains a charmed belt that grants it wearer immunity from mortal injury. Gawain faces the Green Knight, and only suffers a minor scratch on the neck because of the charm. He returns to Camelot alive, but his act binds him in shame, and he wears the charmed belt for the rest of his life to remind him of the virtue of honesty.
(Warning: Spoilers Ahead)
In the modern retelling of the story, written and directed for film by David Lowery, Gawain is less chivalrous. As in the original tale, he beheads the Green Knight, but in this retelling, he is not yet a knight, and he fails, time-and-again, to maintain the Chivalric Code. For example, he allows himself to be captured by thugs and begs for his life; he requests payment from the ghost of a murdered woman instead of simply helping her find peace; and, he receives the green sash of protection through infidelity, lust, and dishonesty. Gawain is for all measures a non-virtuous coward and the antithesis of a knight.
When Gawain faces the Green Knight, we see him shirk from his oath to receive the same blow he received a year before. What follows is a “What if?” sequence of events that show us the proverbial fruits of his life of non-virtuous acts culminating in the death of his son, the loss of his kingdom, and his own beheading. The ugly reality of this foretold truth gives Gawain pause enough to rethink his life. Will he wear the charmed belt the rest of his life in shame? Or, will he give it up and die a man of virtue in line with the Chivalric Code? In the end, “Sir” Gawain throws aside the belt, and welcomes his fate.
David Lowery’s telling of the tale, in my opinion, is a far more powerful allegory than the original poem. Gawain, like so many of us, aspires for a higher virtue, but through his own imperfections, he exists on the fringes of it. Time and again, Gawain is given opportunities on his journey (a metaphor for life) to make knightly choices, but he fails over and over again. Gawain is not evil–he is terribly ordinary like the rest of us who struggle to be something greater than ourselves. In this way, Gawain’s journey is our journey; all of us have the power, despite our conditions and prior failings, to do what is right and be honest, even if it costs us our life.
The Writings of Jame Agapoff 