The Four Good Ideas
More thoughts on preserving sanity in crazy times.
The system is crazy. We don’t have to be.
That’s the tagline for this newsletter, and I’ve written quite a lot about the first sentence, particularly the many ways our current system degrades our lives and then pins the blame entirely on individuals when we have a hard time, say, losing weight, saving money or putting down our smartphones.
This year the craziness of the system became a bald fact, so I’m spending a bit more time on the second sentence. In my own attempt to stay sane, I’ve been returning to some of the foundational Buddhist teachings that have helped me maintain equilibrium for the past 25 years, and I recently recalled one of the most helpful talks I’ve ever heard.
The speaker taught meditation in prisons, and he wanted to discuss a root teaching of Buddhism called the “Four Noble Truths,” but the prison system forbade talk of any religion. So instead, he offered inmates what he called the “Four Good Ideas.”
1. Shit happens.
2. We make it worse.
3. We don’t have to.
4. Here’s how.
I wish I could tell you the name of this teacher. I heard his talk on the Dharma Seed podcast several years ago, and I’ve been unable to find it again. But I do remember the Four Good Ideas, which I find a lot easier to remember than the classical Buddhist teaching they’re based on. So, after doing some research and review (links below), I offer my interpretation of these… good ideas.
Shit happens.
Clearly!
We’re going to die, and so will everyone we love. Sickness will enter every life. We will grow old—if we’re lucky. The things we rely on—our jobs, our relationships, our system of government—can disappear in a flash.
This is the First Noble Truth: the truth of suffering. Painful experiences are inevitable, a normal part of life.
We all know this. But it’s hard to remember when the painful experience happens to you. Then it feels like a cosmic mistake, and the natural tendency is to spend a lot of time churning and stewing over how it’s not supposed to be this way. In other words…
We make it worse.
Why did this happen to me? Why doesn’t she love me? Why I did I get laid off when so-and-so, who is terrible at his job, is still on the payroll? Why did people vote for him? What is wrong with them? Don’t they understand what they did? Do they regret it? I hope so!
Bad things happen, and then we add to the pain by obsessing about it. We long for the situation to end, or for the clock to rewind to the time before it started. This is the Second Noble Truth: the understanding of the origin of suffering—the cycle of clinging and aversion that happens when we wish for the world to be different from what it is.
Say your flight is canceled. You risk missing an important business meeting or a family party you were looking forward to. Naturally, you’re upset.
Then you make it worse. You ruminate about the terrible consequences of the grounded flight. You pine for the alternative reality where the fight is on time and you spend the night in a comfy hotel bed, not charging your phone on the airport floor.
Maybe you get caught up in blame (“This airline is the worst!” “Why did they plan a wedding for the middle of January!”), regrets (“I should have flown out yesterday!”), and projections of the future (“If I miss this meeting, I won’t get that promotion. They’ll probably give it to Brad. Ugh, Brad is the worst!”)
It’s not that these thoughts aren’t valid—maybe you did cut it too close, and as a result will be reporting to Brad in the foreseeable future. But none of this spinning will make the plane budge.
You’re just adding kerosene to the fire. Or, as Buddhist teacher Jack Kornfield puts it, you’re engaging in “the impossible task of trying to redo what has already been done.”
We don’t have to.
There’s usually a moment in the midst of a travel snafu when something shifts. The internal wailing quiets and you accept the reality of the situation. Things aren’t going the way you planned, and there is nothing you can do about it. So you might as well relax—get something to eat, read another chapter of your book.
This is the Third Noble Truth: The cessation of suffering.
It’s not the moment that your flight is cleared for takeoff or you get to your destination. It’s the moment when you drop the storylines about how it’s supposed to be and simply accept what is. It’s the moment when the screaming toddler inside you runs out of steam, and the wise parent (also you!) accepts the new reality and figures out what needs to be done—whether it’s booking a new flight, renting a car, or simply waiting.
Here’s how.
Buddhist teachings and practices are essentially a means of closing the gap between your wailing toddler self and your calm grownup self. The Fourth Noble Truth is a series of wisdom teachings, mindfulness practices and ethical principles called the Eightfold Path, which is designed to help people cultivate their ability to accept reality—or as Kornfield says, “abandon all hope for a better past.”
Accepting reality doesn’t mean being complacent. It means getting out of the cycle of craving and aversion—that is, the wish for things to be different. It doesn’t end pain, but it can reduce suffering.
Most of us already know how to calm ourselves down at the airport. The plane ain’t flying, nothing to be done about it. And if the cancelation is due to a blizzard or mechanical failure then it doesn’t take long to see the bigger picture—sitting on the floor of an airport beats dying in a crash.
But what about the pain of watching our democracy and ecosystem crumble? What about our very legitimate fears for the future, the deep sorrow for those already suffering, the rage toward the leaders who allowed this to happen?
These things feel fundamentally different from a grounded flight, or any of the everyday grievances that pop up in life. But the instruction is still the same: Allow the feelings to arise, but don’t add lighter fluid to the fire.
It shouldn’t be this way, but it is this way. Cultivating this clarity of mind is, I think, our best chance at meeting this moment.
The practice of meditation can seem self-indulgent—all those people going on long retreats, literally doing nothing. There have been times when I’ve had issues with my own Buddhist communities for seeming too cloistered and passive. But I keep returning to these practices because I notice that when I engage them I’m more likely to act, to speak out, and to not fear the discomfort of, say, joining a phone bank.
The people in power want us to be confused and afraid. Learning to sit still with the confusion and fear isn’t enough, but I think it’s essential.
If this seems daunting, just remember: You’ve done this before, many times.
Resources:
I can’t find the talk on the Four Good Ideas, but when writing this post I referred to many great talks on the Four Noble Truths from these Buddhist teachers:
And on a recent episode of Dan Harris’ 10% Happier Podcast, Joseph Goldstein talked to Dan and Sam Harris about the Eightfold Path in an episode called How to Suffer Less.
Have any mindfulness or spiritual practices helped you through this moment? Or do you find these practices just another way to check out, self-care that doesn’t help anyone except the practitioner?
An important reminder for our times. And so clearly expressed. Calmness is a form of resistance.
Up until now that I read this post, I have never heard of the four noble truths. What a fantastic idea! Needless to say journaling and short walks are my all time favorite ways to calm my nerves . I also used to check the news frequently but not anymore.