One of my favorite proverbs is in the Yiddish language: ibergekumene tsuris iz gut zu derstellen, (It is good to depict overcome sorrow). Such depictions can be of great use to the community at large, for it is likely that some in the community are currently enduring the sorrow which the speaker or writer has overcome. The implication is that one should stop complaining all the time; that one should work on the source of suffering in oneself and, after much hard work, either accept it or overcome it, and move on. How one has succeeded in overcoming a particular source of sorrow, rather than continuing to wallow in it, can be of great use to others.
In this article I will discuss how the judicious use of righteous anger can help one progress spiritually. I assert that this limited use of anger has a universal application, although my perspective is Buddhist. Buddhism condoning the use of anger in certain situations? Sounds like an oxymoron, doesn't it? Perhaps not; I will explain.
Anger East and West
Buddhism with its emphasis on serenity, uphekka, traditionally has no place for anger. Dosa, anger, is one of the three defilements: lobha, dosa and moha, (greed, anger, and ignorance.) As far as I know, there are no examples of righteous anger in Buddhism. Insult a Buddha, and, typically, he or she will respond with love and compassion, not with hate or anger.
Western tradition is different. Its most well-known spiritual leader was Jesus of Nazareth, who, as reported in the Gospels, was no stranger to anger. Knocking down the tables of money lenders and those selling animals for sacrifice could not have been accomplished without anger. When asked, on another occasion, perhaps as a trick question, whether it was permitted to heal someone on the Sabbath, Jesus was reported to have "looked around at them with anger," (Mark 3:5). There are many recorded examples of Jesus's anger.
The Eastern tradition emphasizes wisdom and acceptance; the Western tradition emphasizes love and justice. When opposed by hate, Wisdom tends to respond with love and compassion; in contrast, Love, in response, say, to those in power who flout the Golden Rule, may on occasion respond with righteous anger. Both views are complementary; neither is wrong. (And, of course, people act similarly all over the world; in addition, East has long since met West. The contrast has philosophical significance, rather than geographical).
Anger and Meditation
I meditate regularly, almost always one hour twice daily. I've obtained several very useful insights during meditation. I am not going to depict personal issues here, just one insight, specifically one regarding anger issues, that might be helpful to others.
Nearly everyone conducts dialogues with oneself. Sometimes this inner voice needs a new script. As an example: what if your inner voice tells you, silently or angrily, that you are, say, stupid, a failure, or useless? These attitudes might be entrenched by years of negative thinking that often date back to childhood.
Buddhism recognizes three primary aspects of existence: dukkha (life is unsatisfactory, the ego will never be satisfied; anicca (there is no permanence) and anatta (there is no soul underlying reality). Science is in basic accord with these principles; deistic religions are not.
There is no place in the brain where the self resides. Da Vinci thought that the seat of the soul lay in the pineal gland; now we know it basically secretes melatonin. Science is completely in accord with the Buddhist principle that there is no permanent, abiding self.
Yet the illusion of a self, instead of providing the (equally illusory) ego with compliments, can sometimes be quite critical. I illustrate this with a reference to the iconic 1939 film, The Wizard of Oz. Visiting the Wizard's abode, Dorothy and her three companions are confronted by a screen on which an angry head appears which berates and belittles them. On a subsequent visit, Dorothy's dog pulls back the curtain of a small room, in which the Wizard is exposed. The angry man on the screen was produced by a wimp manipulating levers and a microphone--an illusion of technology, (examples with which we moderns are very familiar). The Wizard doesn't exist--the visitors have been scared to death by a sham!
Here's where Sergeant Buddha comes in. When an illusion yells, there's nothing in Buddhism that prevents one from yelling back. Compassion is good--but compassion for rebarbative ghosts? It's best, of course, to treat the Wizard of Oz--sometimes I call him The Wizard of Id--in traditional Buddhist manner. "You are chemicals bearing false information. I will "re-wire" you into thoughts of love and compassion, by practicing love and compassion. I bear you no malice." This traditional method of silencing one's demons is best, but demons can be persistent. On occasion, it is efficacious (so I have found) to put illusions in their place--which is no place at all--by yelling back at them. Sergeant Buddha, after peeling back the curtain, can then tell the Wizard, in no uncertain terms, to get lost.
Examples where Sergeant Buddha Might Have Proven to be Useful
The first case is that of a very successful and good politician, Lázló Bogdán, a Hungarian politician who recently committed suicide at age 46. He killed himself at the height of his career, after doing many good deeds for his constituents. Why did he do it?
Bogdán belonged to the much-maligned Roma (Gypsy) community of Hungary. He became the mayor of Czerdi, a small, mostly Roma town, which was in bad shape when he took office. His success at job creation and crime reduction eventually made him well known throughout Hungary. He made much progress by encouraging self-sufficiency in the population. He died in the third term of his mayorship of Czerdi. He had been born poor, and worked himself up, beginning with employment as a menial laborer.
The prejudice against the Roma community of Hungary is fierce. I am sure he endured many racial put-downs in his too-short life. And no matter how good you are as a politician, there will always be those who vociferously oppose you. Add to this the fact that Bogdán was ambitious--racism, political opposition and ambition--all these ingredients probably fueled his critical Wizard of Id.
You're a failure; you're inferior; you haven't done enough. If such criticism arose from his inner voices, and they probably did, Bogdán might have benefited from an inner Sergeant Buddha who would have exposed the sham voices and yelled back at them.
The second example is that of the great German Romantic composer, Robert Schumann (1810-1856). Schumann's music was quite advanced for the time. It took a lot of time to catch on with the public. He was also a shy man, quite awkward in social situations. He was frequently underestimated, even dismissed. His wife, the famous pianist and composer, Clara Schumann, overshadowed him for much of his career. He was not jealous of her--theirs is one of the great love stories of the century--but, as a very ambitious man, the fact that he was sorely underestimated, at least by his standards, caused him a good deal of suffering.
Later, as his brain deteriorated from tertiary syphilis, his inner voices, which had been kept in check by his successes, hard work, and by the love of his wife, came to the fore. They were very critical; they told him that he was bad and very wicked. Judith Chernaik, in her excellent biography of Schumann, reported on his inner state at this time of his life: "He believed fervently that he was a sinner, damned forever." This from a good, gentle man who, as far as I know, never harmed anyone!
Note that both men were inordinately ambitious. Desire--and ambition is certainly a form of desire--was considered by the Buddha to be the very root of suffering. No doubt desire fomented the biting criticisms of each man's inner voices. The traditional Buddhist path, the Eightfold Way, is a time-tested way to put desire in its place. What about Sergeant Buddha? How can his anger help in certain circumstances?
Conclusion
On one occasion, a man, most likely mad, accosted Buddha. He was very angry, and showered Buddha with insults. Buddha remained serene. How could he have remained calm in a situation in which many would return anger with anger? "Anger is like a pail of refuse," Buddha replied. "A man can put it down at my feet, but I don't have to pick it up."
Good advice, but many of us, myself included, haven't reached that state. Knowing that the Wizard of Id isn't real, and thus, knowing that one's anger is not doing any living being harm, sometimes it might be best if Sergeant Buddha picks up the pail of refuse and angrily throws it in the Wizard's direction, and then goes on the Way.
The motive of a good drill sergeant is not the humiliation of someone, but to help that someone mature; Sergeant Buddha is no different.
I think an angry Buddha can be of great help in the silencing of a vicious inner voice. Remember, though, that this example of righteous Buddhist anger is quite limited, and must be aimed at the voices of non-being, which hinder spiritual progress. After these negative voices have been dressed down and put in their place--which is no place--their power is weakened. (One yell, unfortunately, usually isn't enough. Work on love and compassion by all means, but whenever that overcritical voice appears, let the Sergeant yell until those little demons cease their mischief, at least temporarily. Another point worth mentioning is that we are not talking about psychotic wizards here, but neurotic ones. If one is "really" hearing voices, it's time to see a psychiatrist).
Be mindful, be ready when the Wizard begins his nonsense. Let Sergeant Buddha drill him down. After that, Sergeant Buddha can retire awhile and Buddha can once again take over, leading us on into the light of love and compassion.
It is good to depict overcome sorrow. What worked for me might work for you. Such is my hope.
In this article I will discuss how the judicious use of righteous anger can help one progress spiritually. I assert that this limited use of anger has a universal application, although my perspective is Buddhist. Buddhism condoning the use of anger in certain situations? Sounds like an oxymoron, doesn't it? Perhaps not; I will explain.
Anger East and West
Buddhism with its emphasis on serenity, uphekka, traditionally has no place for anger. Dosa, anger, is one of the three defilements: lobha, dosa and moha, (greed, anger, and ignorance.) As far as I know, there are no examples of righteous anger in Buddhism. Insult a Buddha, and, typically, he or she will respond with love and compassion, not with hate or anger.
Western tradition is different. Its most well-known spiritual leader was Jesus of Nazareth, who, as reported in the Gospels, was no stranger to anger. Knocking down the tables of money lenders and those selling animals for sacrifice could not have been accomplished without anger. When asked, on another occasion, perhaps as a trick question, whether it was permitted to heal someone on the Sabbath, Jesus was reported to have "looked around at them with anger," (Mark 3:5). There are many recorded examples of Jesus's anger.
The Eastern tradition emphasizes wisdom and acceptance; the Western tradition emphasizes love and justice. When opposed by hate, Wisdom tends to respond with love and compassion; in contrast, Love, in response, say, to those in power who flout the Golden Rule, may on occasion respond with righteous anger. Both views are complementary; neither is wrong. (And, of course, people act similarly all over the world; in addition, East has long since met West. The contrast has philosophical significance, rather than geographical).
Anger and Meditation
I meditate regularly, almost always one hour twice daily. I've obtained several very useful insights during meditation. I am not going to depict personal issues here, just one insight, specifically one regarding anger issues, that might be helpful to others.
Nearly everyone conducts dialogues with oneself. Sometimes this inner voice needs a new script. As an example: what if your inner voice tells you, silently or angrily, that you are, say, stupid, a failure, or useless? These attitudes might be entrenched by years of negative thinking that often date back to childhood.
Buddhism recognizes three primary aspects of existence: dukkha (life is unsatisfactory, the ego will never be satisfied; anicca (there is no permanence) and anatta (there is no soul underlying reality). Science is in basic accord with these principles; deistic religions are not.
There is no place in the brain where the self resides. Da Vinci thought that the seat of the soul lay in the pineal gland; now we know it basically secretes melatonin. Science is completely in accord with the Buddhist principle that there is no permanent, abiding self.
Yet the illusion of a self, instead of providing the (equally illusory) ego with compliments, can sometimes be quite critical. I illustrate this with a reference to the iconic 1939 film, The Wizard of Oz. Visiting the Wizard's abode, Dorothy and her three companions are confronted by a screen on which an angry head appears which berates and belittles them. On a subsequent visit, Dorothy's dog pulls back the curtain of a small room, in which the Wizard is exposed. The angry man on the screen was produced by a wimp manipulating levers and a microphone--an illusion of technology, (examples with which we moderns are very familiar). The Wizard doesn't exist--the visitors have been scared to death by a sham!
Here's where Sergeant Buddha comes in. When an illusion yells, there's nothing in Buddhism that prevents one from yelling back. Compassion is good--but compassion for rebarbative ghosts? It's best, of course, to treat the Wizard of Oz--sometimes I call him The Wizard of Id--in traditional Buddhist manner. "You are chemicals bearing false information. I will "re-wire" you into thoughts of love and compassion, by practicing love and compassion. I bear you no malice." This traditional method of silencing one's demons is best, but demons can be persistent. On occasion, it is efficacious (so I have found) to put illusions in their place--which is no place at all--by yelling back at them. Sergeant Buddha, after peeling back the curtain, can then tell the Wizard, in no uncertain terms, to get lost.
Examples where Sergeant Buddha Might Have Proven to be Useful
The first case is that of a very successful and good politician, Lázló Bogdán, a Hungarian politician who recently committed suicide at age 46. He killed himself at the height of his career, after doing many good deeds for his constituents. Why did he do it?
Bogdán belonged to the much-maligned Roma (Gypsy) community of Hungary. He became the mayor of Czerdi, a small, mostly Roma town, which was in bad shape when he took office. His success at job creation and crime reduction eventually made him well known throughout Hungary. He made much progress by encouraging self-sufficiency in the population. He died in the third term of his mayorship of Czerdi. He had been born poor, and worked himself up, beginning with employment as a menial laborer.
The prejudice against the Roma community of Hungary is fierce. I am sure he endured many racial put-downs in his too-short life. And no matter how good you are as a politician, there will always be those who vociferously oppose you. Add to this the fact that Bogdán was ambitious--racism, political opposition and ambition--all these ingredients probably fueled his critical Wizard of Id.
You're a failure; you're inferior; you haven't done enough. If such criticism arose from his inner voices, and they probably did, Bogdán might have benefited from an inner Sergeant Buddha who would have exposed the sham voices and yelled back at them.
The second example is that of the great German Romantic composer, Robert Schumann (1810-1856). Schumann's music was quite advanced for the time. It took a lot of time to catch on with the public. He was also a shy man, quite awkward in social situations. He was frequently underestimated, even dismissed. His wife, the famous pianist and composer, Clara Schumann, overshadowed him for much of his career. He was not jealous of her--theirs is one of the great love stories of the century--but, as a very ambitious man, the fact that he was sorely underestimated, at least by his standards, caused him a good deal of suffering.
Later, as his brain deteriorated from tertiary syphilis, his inner voices, which had been kept in check by his successes, hard work, and by the love of his wife, came to the fore. They were very critical; they told him that he was bad and very wicked. Judith Chernaik, in her excellent biography of Schumann, reported on his inner state at this time of his life: "He believed fervently that he was a sinner, damned forever." This from a good, gentle man who, as far as I know, never harmed anyone!
Note that both men were inordinately ambitious. Desire--and ambition is certainly a form of desire--was considered by the Buddha to be the very root of suffering. No doubt desire fomented the biting criticisms of each man's inner voices. The traditional Buddhist path, the Eightfold Way, is a time-tested way to put desire in its place. What about Sergeant Buddha? How can his anger help in certain circumstances?
Conclusion
On one occasion, a man, most likely mad, accosted Buddha. He was very angry, and showered Buddha with insults. Buddha remained serene. How could he have remained calm in a situation in which many would return anger with anger? "Anger is like a pail of refuse," Buddha replied. "A man can put it down at my feet, but I don't have to pick it up."
Good advice, but many of us, myself included, haven't reached that state. Knowing that the Wizard of Id isn't real, and thus, knowing that one's anger is not doing any living being harm, sometimes it might be best if Sergeant Buddha picks up the pail of refuse and angrily throws it in the Wizard's direction, and then goes on the Way.
The motive of a good drill sergeant is not the humiliation of someone, but to help that someone mature; Sergeant Buddha is no different.
I think an angry Buddha can be of great help in the silencing of a vicious inner voice. Remember, though, that this example of righteous Buddhist anger is quite limited, and must be aimed at the voices of non-being, which hinder spiritual progress. After these negative voices have been dressed down and put in their place--which is no place--their power is weakened. (One yell, unfortunately, usually isn't enough. Work on love and compassion by all means, but whenever that overcritical voice appears, let the Sergeant yell until those little demons cease their mischief, at least temporarily. Another point worth mentioning is that we are not talking about psychotic wizards here, but neurotic ones. If one is "really" hearing voices, it's time to see a psychiatrist).
Be mindful, be ready when the Wizard begins his nonsense. Let Sergeant Buddha drill him down. After that, Sergeant Buddha can retire awhile and Buddha can once again take over, leading us on into the light of love and compassion.
It is good to depict overcome sorrow. What worked for me might work for you. Such is my hope.
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