“I often feel that I must have this fear of life — it is essential to me — and that I would not exist without it. In periods without fear and illness, I have felt like a ship sailing before a strong wind without a rudder.” — Edvard Munch.

When we think about the depiction of piercing and painful feeling, the first thing that comes to mind is “The Scream” by Edward Munch. And it’s not surprising.

To manifest these emotions on a canvas, one has to have experienced them firsthand. And when it comes to hardships and loss, Edvard Munch’s biography is full of them.

At the age of five, he lost his mother to tuberculosis, which became one of the most painful memories of his childhood. But it didn’t stop there. A few years later, when he turned thirteen, his beloved elder sister Sophie suffered the same fate. This tragedy lacerated him for life.

And there was no one to console him in the time of need, as his father was suffering from psychotic depression after his wife’s death.

Not surprisingly, due to such traumatic past, the artist suffered from alcoholism and numerous nervous breakdowns. He lived alone for the rest of his life, and paintings were his only children.

His traumatic experiences influenced his inclination towards depicting the inner world with its emotional turmoils, contradiction, and suffering.

It is said that Munch’s work as a whole can be regarded as self-portraiture or visual autobiography.

But then why his most famous painting, The Scream, is so captivating and relatable to many of us?

Why can we recognize ourselves in it and understand what the central figure is experiencing at that moment?

What is the mechanism behind these painful emotions, and why are they so all-consuming and destructive?

To answer these questions, we have to start at the beginning — the event that served as the painting’s initial inspiration. This is how Munch described it:

I walked along the path with two friends, and the sun was setting. The sky became suddenly blood. I felt an approaching melancholy, stopped, and leaned on the railing, tired to death. Over the blue-black fjord and the city lay clouds of dripping smoking blood. My friends walked on, but I stood trembling with an open wound in my breast. I felt a great screaming through nature.

It’s not widely known that Edvard Munch did not paint the masterpiece from the first try.

The version we know today went through a process of experimentation and iteration.

The first step was a few simple sketches, one of which depicts him standing on a bridge and the bloody red sky above where the “screaming” occurs.

After that comes the first version of the painting, now known as Despair but which also has another name “The First Screaming.” Here the red color turns into long lines, which, however, do not connect to the central figure.

And finally, the screaming sky is shown flowing into the landscape and the man himself. His inner structure is bent, taking on the curvature of the red wave-lines.

The figure that previously looked at “screaming” now becomes a part of the event. The pain penetrates and becomes one with the man.

At this stage, Munch finally discovers the artistic means to express what he felt and heard that day.

The central figure no longer represents Munch. It’s the timeless “face of mankind” without gender, age, origin, social identity, or cultural affiliation. A face seized with primeval fear and horror. The personal experience turns into a universal experience.

This is why this painting is so memorable and relatable to anyone who ever sees it. Because it depicts one of the fundamental causes of suffering – our complete identification with pain. Our attachment to pain.

The Buddha diagnosed this deadly affliction 2500 years ago in the Sallattha sutta (The Arrow) about the arrow of pain and the arrow of suffering. Here’s how he explained it to his disciples:

Suppose they were to shoot a man with an arrow, and then with a second arrow, so that the man would feel pain caused by two arrows. So too, when the uninstructed person experiences a painful feeling, he feels two feelings—a bodily one and a mental one.

If he feels a painful feeling, he feels it attached. If he feels a pleasant feeling, he feels it attached. If he feels a neutral feeling, he feels it attached. This is called an uninstructed person who is attached to suffering, I say.

Afterward, he contrasts it with the way an enlightened arahant avoids this pitfall and keeps painful feelings at bay:

When the instructed noble disciple experiences a painful feeling, he does not sorrow, grieve, or lament; he does not weep beating his breast and become distraught. He feels one feeling—a bodily one, not a mental one.

If he feels a painful feeling, he feels it detached. If he feels a pleasant feeling, he feels it detached. If he feels a neutral feeling, he feels it detached. This is called a noble disciple who is detached from suffering, I say.

The passages above also point to the Second Noble Truth, which shows us that craving and attachment is the primary cause of any suffering. And the way to liberation from the suffering lies through the Noble Eightfold Path.

References:

1. The Private Journal of Edvard Munch translated by J. Gill Holland
2. Edvard Munch – The Scream – End of an Error by Gerd Presler
3. Edvard Munch: Behind the Scream by Sue Prideaux

Strange, isn’t it?

How sometimes worry and anxiety overtake your mind.

You can’t help but think about all the bad things that might happen in the future.

Worst-case scenarios keep replaying themselves in your head over and over again.

And it seems like there is no escape from this unending cycle.

When that happens, you lose the ability to think and act clearly. You might even lose sleep and become anxious.

So what should you do if that happens?

Is there a simple way to counteract this tendency and calm your worried mind?

To answer this question, I would like to tell you a wise and profound zen story that will teach you a simple way to overcome worry and anxiety.

A young man fell ill and was about to die.

“I love you so much,” he said to his wife. “Promise me that if I die, you will not marry another man. If you do, I will come back as a ghost to haunt you at night.”

“I promise,” said the wife.

After he passed away, the wife held on for three months. Then she met another man, fell in love, and got engaged.

The next night, the husband’s ghost appeared to her and blamed her for not keeping the promise. He was clever too. He could describe every present she received from her husband and could repeat every conversation they had together. It was so disturbing that the wife couldn’t fall asleep.

Someone advised her to see a zen master who lived nearby. Desperate, she went to him and told him about the ghost.

“Such a wise ghost,” said the master. “He knows everything you do and think. The next time he visits you, make a deal with him. Tell him that he knows so much that you can hide nothing from him. If he answers one question, you will leave your fiance and remain single.

“What is the question I should ask him?” inquired the wife.

“Take a handful of soybeans and ask exactly how many beans you hold in your hand. If he can’t answer, then you’ll know that he’s just a figment of your imagination and will bother you no more.”

The next night when the ghost appeared, the wife told him that he knew everything. “Indeed,” replied the ghost. “I know you went to see that Zen master today.”

“If you know so much, tell me how many soybeans I have in this hand.”

There was no one to answer her question.

I love this zen story. It’s an important reminder that sometimes our mind is the same way.

But instead of a ghost, it’s haunted by negative thoughts. Thoughts that pretend to know everything. Thoughts that tell us how things will be.

So how do you strip them of their power?

Take a handful of soybeans. Or in other words, perform a present moment test.

Ask yourself, “What is the problem right now?”

Once you do that, you’ll immediately realize that the “ghost” is not real. The worry and anxiety are just a figment of your imagination.

What do you do if distracting thoughts keep you from moving forward?

How do you get unstuck and start seeing clearly again?

To answer these questions, I’m looking at the Vitakkasanthana Sutta from Majjhima Nikaya.

It’s an instruction on how to deal with distracting thoughts taught by the Buddha. If you want to read the full version, it can be found here in translation by Thanissaro Bhikkhu.

It’s important to note that this is an ancient sutta, and the language used in it may seem hard to understand.

The instructions are addressed to practicing Buddhist monks. But that shouldn’t be seen as an obstacle.

Instead, we should see it as an opportunity to learn from the master himself and improve as lay practitioners.

There are 5 steps that I will quote here and offer some of my personal reflections to help you apply them to your own practice.

Step #1

The Blessed One said: “When a monk is intent on the heightened mind, there are five themes he should attend to at the appropriate times. Which five?

There is the case where evil, unskillful thoughts—connected with desire, aversion, or delusion—arise in a monk while he is referring to and attending to a particular theme. He should attend to another theme, apart from that one, connected with what is skillful. When he is attending to this other theme, apart from that one, connected with what is skillful, then those evil, unskillful thoughts—connected with desire, aversion, or delusion—are abandoned and subside. With their abandoning, he steadies his mind right within, settles it, unifies it, and concentrates it. — the Buddha

According to Pali commentaries, “themes” refer to practical exercises for removal of distracting thoughts.

In this passage, “attend to another theme” means to use a different meditation technique to overcome the current challenge of the mind.

For example, to overcome thoughts of hatred, one should do loving-kindness meditation. To overcome sensual desire, one should do meditation on the unattractive nature of the body and so on for other mental obstructions.

But I also want to mention my first impression from reading this paragraph before reading the commentary.

“Attending to another theme” (the phrasing in this particular translation) has reminded me of how our thinking can be affected by our immediate surroundings.

So much of what we see and hear on television and social media can be detrimental to our mental health and well-being.

That is why it’s essential to limit exposure to these harmful energy sources as much as possible.

So if you find yourself engulfed by a wave of negative thoughts and emotions, ask yourself how much of it was caused by your environment. Can you take practical steps to reduce its harmful influence on you?

Step #2

If evil, unskillful thoughts—connected with desire, aversion, or delusion—still arise in the monk while he is attending to this other theme, connected with what is skillful, he should scrutinize the drawbacks of those thoughts: ‘Really, these thoughts of mine are unskillful, these thoughts of mine are blameworthy, these thoughts of mine result in stress.’ As he is scrutinizing the drawbacks of those thoughts, those evil, unskillful thoughts—connected with desire, aversion, or delusion—are abandoned and subside. With their abandoning, he steadies his mind right within, settles it, unifies it, and concentrates it. — the Buddha

As I understand it, the Buddha’s instruction here reminds us that negative thoughts are harmful to ourselves, not to the object of our thoughts.

You should always ask yourself how those thoughts can affect your mood and health.

Does negative thinking provide you with any value? Can it lead to a positive change in your life?

If your answer is no, then you should stop right now. Recognize the futile and harmful nature of these thoughts and let them go.

Ruminating over them won’t do you any good.

Step #3

If evil, unskillful thoughts—connected with desire, aversion or delusion—still arise in the monk while he is scrutinizing the drawbacks of those thoughts, he should pay no mind and pay no attention to those thoughts. As he is paying no mind and paying no attention to them, those evil, unskillful thoughts are abandoned and subside. With their abandoning, he steadies his mind right within, settles it, unifies it, and concentrates it. — the Buddha

This passage reminds me of how we always tend to think about the negative rather than the positive.

If you had a day full of good and bad events, what would you remember and tell your friends about first of all?

Of course, it would be about something bad or someone bad that ruined your perfect day.

Despite how strange that sounds, it’s exactly how our mind works – you just can’t help it.

This instruction urges us to recognize this unhealthy pattern in ourselves and pay little attention to it.

If we do that, it will lose its power and won’t occupy our minds as strongly as before.

Step #4

If evil, unskillful thoughts—connected with desire, aversion or delusion—still arise in the monk while he is paying no mind and paying no attention to those thoughts, he should attend to the relaxing of thought-fabrication with regard to those thoughts. As he is attending to the relaxing of thought-fabrication with regard to those thoughts, those evil, unskillful thoughts are abandoned and subside. With their abandoning, he steadies his mind right within, settles it, unifies it, and concentrates it. — the Buddha

In Bikkhu Bodhi’s version, “relaxing of thought-fabrication” is translated as “stilling the thought-formation.”

According to Pali commentaries, it means “stopping the cause of the thought.” So removal of distracting thoughts can be done by asking yourself, “What is the cause of the thought?” “What is the cause of its cause”? And so on.

Nevertheless, before reading the Pali commentary, this passage reminded me of a relaxed attitude toward our thoughts.

What do I mean by that? It all comes down to the development of relaxed awareness of whatever is going on in our heads.

One of the first challenges people face when starting meditation is how overwhelming some thoughts and images can be in that state.

As we practice more and more, we develop the ability to not be swept away by our thoughts and underlying emotions.

We learn to be calm observers, detach from our thoughts, and eventually heal from the inside out.

Step #5

If evil, unskillful thoughts—connected with desire, aversion or delusion—still arise in the monk while he is attending to the relaxing of thought-fabrication with regard to those thoughts, then—with his teeth clenched and his tongue pressed against the roof of his mouth—he should beat down, constrain, and crush his mind with his awareness. As—with his teeth clenched and his tongue pressed against the roof of his mouth—he is beating down, constraining, and crushing his mind with his awareness, those evil, unskillful thoughts are abandoned and subside. With their abandoning, he steadies his mind right within, settles it, unifies it, and concentrates it. — the Buddha

Bhikkhu Analyao in his book Satipatthana wrote that this part of the sutta serves as the last resort if all the above approaches did not help.

To “beat down, constrain, and crush mind with awareness” is, therefore, an extreme measure to prevent obsessive thoughts from manifesting as the wrong action.

The first reading of this part reminded me that meditation requires a certain degree of directed awareness. As much as we want to be relaxed, we also need to be present.

We need to achieve a delicate balance between relaxation and alertness to recognize and deal with negative thoughts.

This is achieved at a later stage of the meditation practice and requires time and effort.

When awareness is developed and nurtured, it can be used for removal of distracting thoughts and subduing of unwholesome states of mind.

What is Theravada Buddhism?

And why it’s important to learn about it?

Before we get into the heart of the matter, let’s admit that studying Buddhism is hard.

If you tried to research Buddhism, you probably encountered small text, long paragraphs, and confusing terms. Been there, done that. It’s all very frustrating.

That is why I decided to write about it in my own way, and make it easy for you to understand it all. Here’s a brief overview of the things I will cover in this article.

-The importance of Theravada: why it’s a great starting point for your study if you’re new to Buddhism.

-Name: why it’s called Theravada Buddhism and the main difference from Mahasanghika.

-Location: what countries adhere to this school and how it got there.

-Language: why this school of Buddhism uses the Pali language as opposed to Sanskrit.

-The scripture: in this section, I will talk about the ancient text that this school considers “The Word of the Buddha.”

-The teaching: here, I will give a brief overview of the primary teaching of Theravada Buddhism.

Everything I mentioned above, you can use as a pointer to investigate further.

Why It’s Important to Learn About Theravada Buddhism in the First Place

So just pause for a minute, and ask yourself, “Why should I even bother learning about Theravada Buddhism? Can I just skip it and jump right to, let’s say Zen Buddhism?”

That’s a fair question and a good starting point for our exploration.

First of all, Theravada Buddhism is considered the most conservative of all Buddhist schools out there.

Conservative (or orthodox) shouldn’t be understood in a negative sense. It’s actually a good thing that it’s very conservative.

Its teaching has undergone little change since it was first committed to writing in the 1st century BCE.

So this comes as close as it can possibly get to what historical Gotama Buddha taught after his enlightenment.

By exploring Theravada school, you expose yourself to the most ancient and authentic account of the Buddha’s teaching in its purest form.

Learning about Theravada will give you a solid foundation for exploring other Buddhist schools and compare them to the conservative (original) teaching.

So if you’re just starting to learn about Buddhism and wondering, “Where should I start learning about Buddhism if I know nothing about it?”

Then your answer is to start with Theravada Buddhism and then continue exploring other schools. Although agreeing on core teachings, you will find out different schools diverge on many other things.

Name: Theravada vs. Mahasanghika

The word Theravada consists of two words: thera, which can be translated as ‘elder’ and vada — ‘word.’ Put together, they mean ‘teaching of the elders.’

So who were these elders? The elders were great elderly monks who presided over the First Buddhist Council after the death of the Buddha.

During the first council, they recited the Buddha’s teaching and compiled two collections. The first one was the Collection of the Buddha’s Teachings (Pali: Sutta Pitaka). The second one was the Collection of Discipline (Pali: Vinaya Pitaka), a set of monastic rules of life.

A hundred years later, during the Second Buddhist Council, the community split for the first time into Theravada and Mahasanghika. The former was a conservative side, and the latter was a more liberal side.

The split occurred when a group of monks had a disagreement over specific rules, forcing them to form their own separate community (sangha) and call their own Great Council (mahasangiti). From the Theravada’s perspective, the Mahasanghika was a group of expelled monks, not an authentic school.

So if we look at Theravada as the upholders of the tradition of great elders (mahatheras) of the First Buddhist Council, we can regard it as orthodox Buddhism.

Geography: Southern Buddhism vs. Northern Buddhism

The ancient texts tell us a story of how Theravada Buddhism got to ancient Ceylon in 250 BCE.

The monk who brought Theravada to Ceylon was Mahinda, son of great Buddhist king Asoka. He was accompanied by a group of five monks required to perform an ordination ceremony for new monks.

Later, his sister Sanghamitta, joined him to establish the Order of Nuns in Ceylon. The legend says she brought the branch of the Bo tree under which the Buddha obtained enlightenment. It took root in the city of Anuradhapura, where it’s worshipped to this day.

After reaching Ceylon in 250 BCE, Theravada existed for a thousand years, mainly in Ceylon and southeast India. In the 11th century, it went from Ceylon to Burma. Then, over the next two centuries, it spread to Thailand, Laos, and Cambodia.

You can contrast this with what can be called the northern Buddhism, which traveled from India to the north to such countries as China, Tibet, Korea, etc.

This offers us another way of looking at Theravada Buddhism from a geographical perspective. In which case, we can regard it as a southern Buddhism.

Language: Pali vs. Sanskrit

If you’ve been reading about Buddhism, you must have encountered different spellings of its central terms:

Dhamma, Nibbana, Kamma, as opposed to Dharma, Nirvana, Karma. The first three are written in Pali and the last three in Sanskrit.

What important to know here is that at the time of the Buddha, Sanskrit was the sacred language of Hindu priests called Brahmins. Brahmins were the preservers of “sacred knowledge” (Veda). Veda was eternally true and told men what to do.

The Buddha was a heterodox (non-conformist) thinker of his time. He denied the authority of Veda as the final truth and power of Brahmins as the arbiters of that truth.

That’s why he was opposed to using Sanskrit and instructed his monks to spread his teaching in local languages.

There are a lot of disputes about the origin of Pali. Everyone seems to agree that it’s a language created from a mixture of local languages of that time. Eventually, it became the language of Theravada and its scriptures.

So from the standpoint of its primary language, Theravada Buddhism can also be called the Pali tradition.

Scripture: Tipitaka or Three Baskets

I have mentioned earlier that during the Second Buddhist Council, the community split into two factions: Theravada and Mahasanghika.

It didn’t stop there, and during the following two centuries, they split into 18 different schools.

Each school had its own collection of texts that they considered canonical and true.

However, these old schools were lost when Muslims invaded northern India in the 11th and 12th centuries.

The only complete collection of texts that was able to survive belonged to Theravada school. Since it was transplanted from India to Ceylon in 250 BCE, it was able to escape the destruction other schools faced in the motherland.

The primary doctrinal scripture of Theravada Buddhism is called Tipitaka — Three Baskets or Three Compilations. It’s regarded by Theravadins as Word of the Buddha (Pali: buddhavacana).

The three compilations are:

1. The Compilation of Discipline (Pali: Vinaya Pitaka) – rules for monks and nuns intended to regulate life in the monastic order (sangha).

2. The Compilation of Teaching (Pali: Sutta Pitaka) – contains the teaching of the Buddha in verse and prose.

3. The Compilation of Philosophy (Pali: Abhidhamma Pitaka) – the philosophical systematization of the Buddha’s teaching.

The Teaching of Theravada Buddhism

The teaching of Theravada Buddhism is centered around:

The Four Noble Truths: the truth of suffering (dukkha), the truth of the cause of suffering – craving (tanha), the truth of the end of suffering (Nibbana), and the truth of the path leading to the end of suffering (the Noble Eightfold Path)

The Noble Eightfold Path consists of virtue – sila (right speech, right action, right livelihood), concentration – samadhi (right effort, right mindfulness, right concentration), and wisdom – panna (right view and right resolve).

By developing the Noble Eightfold Path, we overcome ignorance (avijja) of the Four Noble Truths and become released from an endless cycle of birth and death called samsara.

The ideal or the aim is to become an awakened one – arahant. Arahant is someone who fully developed the path, realized the four truths, escaped the cycle of endless rebirth, and attained enlightenment.