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I thought many here would find this interesting (I found this today) since it deals with concepts that will probably hit home for many of you, most of us at Gaia being teenagers and it deals with issues that teenage Buddhists or those who wish to be Buddhists would face. This is an excerpt from a book called What Makes You Not a Buddhist:

Introduction

Once, I was seated on a plane in the middle seat of the middle row on a trans-Atlantic flight, and the sympathetic man sitting next to me made an attempt to be friendly. Seeing my shaved head and maroon skirt, he gathered that I was a Buddhist. When the meal was served, the man considerately offered to order a vegetarian meal for me. Having correctly assumed that I was a Buddhist, he also assumed that I don’t eat meat. That was the beginning of our chat. The flight was long, so to kill our boredom, we discussed Buddhism.

Over time I have come to realize that people often associate Buddhism and Buddhists with peace, meditation, and nonviolence. In fact, many seem to think that saffron or maroon robes and a peaceful smile are all it takes to be a Buddhist. As a fanatical Buddhist myself, I must take pride in this reputation, particularly the nonviolent aspect of it, which is so rare in this age of war and violence, and especially religious violence. Throughout the history of humankind, religion seems to beget brutality. Even today religious-extremist violence dominates the news. Yet I think I can say with confidence that so far we Buddhists have not disgraced ourselves. Violence has never played a part in propagating Buddhism. However, as a trained Buddhist, I also feel a little discontented when Buddhism is associated with nothing beyond vegetarianism, nonviolence, peace, and meditation. Prince Siddhartha, who sacrificed all the comforts and luxuries of palace life, must have been searching for more than passivity and shrubbery when he set out to discover enlightenment.

Although essentially very simple, Buddhism cannot be easily explained. It is almost inconceivably complex, vast, and deep. Although it is nonreligious and nontheistic, it's difficult to present Buddhism without sounding theoretical and religious. As Buddhism traveled to different parts of the world, the cultural characteristics it accumulated have made it even more complicated to decipher. Theistic trappings such as incense, bells, and multicolored hats can attract people’s attention, but at the same time they can be obstacles. People end up thinking that is all there is to Buddhism and are diverted from its essence.

Sometimes out of frustration that Siddhartha’s teachings have not caught on enough for my liking, and sometimes out of my own ambition, I entertain ideas of reforming Buddhism, making it easier—more straightforward and puritanical. It is devious and misguided to imagine (as I sometimes do) simplifying Buddhism into defined, calculated practices like meditating three times a day, adhering to certain dress codes, and holding certain ideological beliefs, such as that the whole world must be converted to Buddhism. If we could promise that such practices would provide immediate, tangible results, I think there would be more Buddhists in the world. But when I recover from these fantasies (which I rarely do), my sober mind warns me that a world of people calling themselves Buddhists would not necessarily be a better world.

Many people mistakenly think that Buddha is the “God” of Buddhism; even some people in commonly recognized Buddhist countries such as Korea, Japan, and Bhutan have this theistic approach to the Buddha and Buddhism. This is why throughout this book we use the name Siddhartha and Buddha interchangeably, to remind people that Buddha was just a man and that this man became Buddha.

It is understandable that some people might think that Buddhists are followers of this external man named Buddha. However, Buddha himself pointed out that we should not venerate a person but rather the wisdom that person teaches. Similarly, it is taken for granted that reincarnation and karma are the most essential beliefs of Buddhism. There are numerous other gross misconceptions. For example, Tibetan Buddhism is sometimes referred to as “lamaism,” and Zen is not even considered Buddhism in some cases. Those people who are slightly more informed, yet still misguided, may use words such as emptiness and nirvana without understanding their meaning.

When a conversation arises like the one with my seatmate on the plane, a non-Buddhist may casually ask, “What makes someone a Buddhist?” That is the hardest question to answer. If the person has a genuine interest, the complete answer does not make for light dinner conversation, and generalizations can lead to misunderstanding. Suppose that you give them the true answer, the answer that points to the very foundation of this 2,500-year-old tradition.

One is a Buddhist if he or she accepts the following four truths:

* All compounded things are impermanent.
* All emotions are pain.
* All things have no inherent existence.
* Nirvana is beyond concepts.

These four statements, spoken by the Buddha himself, are known as “the four seals.” Traditionally, seal means something like a hallmark that confirms authenticity. For the sake of simplicity and flow we will refer to these statements herein as both seals and “truths,” not to be confused with Buddhism’s four noble truths, which pertain solely to aspects of suffering. Even though the four seals are believed to encompass all of Buddhism, people don’t seem to want to hear about them. Without further explanation they serve only to dampen spirits and fail to inspire further interest in many cases. The topic of conversation changes and that’s the end of it.

The message of the four seals is meant to be understood literally, not metaphorically or mystically—and meant to be taken seriously. But the seals are not edicts or commandments. With a little contemplation one sees that there is nothing moralistic or ritualistic about them. There is no mention of good or bad behavior. They are secular truths based on wisdom, and wisdom is the primary concern of a Buddhist. Morals and ethics are secondary. A few puffs of a cigarette and a little fooling around don’t prevent someone from becoming a Buddhist. That is not to say that we have license to be wicked or immoral.

Broadly speaking, wisdom comes from a mind that has what the Buddhists call “right view.” But one doesn’t even have to consider oneself a Buddhist to have right view. Ultimately it is this view that determines our motivation and action. It is the view that guides us on the path of Buddhism. If we can adopt wholesome behaviors in addition to the four seals, it makes us even better Buddhists. But what makes you not a Buddhist?



If you cannot accept that all compounded or fabricated things are impermanent, if you believe that there is some essential substance or concept that is permanent, then you are not a Buddhist.


If you cannot accept that all emotions are pain, if you believe that actually some emotions are purely pleasurable, then you are not a Buddhist.



If you cannot accept that all phenomena are illusory and empty, if you believe that certain things do exist inherently, then you are not a Buddhist.


And if you think that enlightenment exists within the spheres of time, space, and power, then you are not a Buddhist.

So, what makes you a Buddhist? You may not have been born in a Buddhist country or to a Buddhist family, you may not wear robes or shave your head, you may eat meat and idolize Eminem and Paris Hilton. That doesn’t mean you cannot be a Buddhist. In order to be a Buddhist, you must accept that all compounded phenomena are impermanent, all emotions are pain, all things have no inherent existence, and enlightenment is beyond concepts.

It’s not necessary to be constantly and endlessly mindful of these four truths. But they must reside in your mind. You don’t walk around persistently remembering your own name, but when someone asks your name, you remember it instantly. There is no doubt. Anyone who accepts these four seals, even independently of Buddha’s teachings, even never having heard the name Shakyamuni Buddha, can be considered to be on the same path as he.

When I tried to explain all of this to the man next to me on the plane, I began to hear a soft snoring sound and realized that he was sound asleep. Apparently our conversation did not kill his boredom.

I enjoy generalizing, and as you read this book, you will find a sea of generalizations. But I justify this to myself by thinking that apart from generalizations we human beings don’t have much means of communication. That’s a generalization in itself.

By writing this book, it is not my aim to persuade people to follow Shakyamuni Buddha, become Buddhists, and practice the dharma. I deliberately do not mention any meditation techniques, practices, or mantras. My primary intention is to point out the unique part of Buddhism that differentiates it from other views. What did this Indian prince say that earned so much respect and admiration, even from skeptical modern scientists like Albert Einstein? What did he say that moved thousands of pilgrims to prostrate themselves all the way from Tibet to Bodh Gaya? What sets Buddhism apart from the religions of the world? I believe it boils down to the four seals, and I have attempted to present these difficult concepts in the simplest language available to me.

Siddhartha’s priority was to get down to the root of the problem. Buddhism is not culturally bound. Its benefits are not limited to any particular society and have no place in government and politics. Siddhartha was not interested in academic treatises and scientifically provable theories. Whether the world is flat or round did not concern him. He had a different kind of practicality. He wanted to get to the bottom of suffering. I hope to illustrate that his teachings are not a grandiose intellectual philosophy to be read and then shelved, but a functional, logical view that can be practiced by each and every individual. To that end I have attempted to use examples from all aspects of all walks of life—from the romantic crush to the emergence of civilization as we know it. While these examples are different from the ones Siddhartha used, the same message Siddhartha expressed is still relevant today.

But Siddhartha also said that his words should not be taken for granted without analysis. So, definitely someone as ordinary as myself must also be scrutinized, and I invite you to analyze what you find within these pages.



Where I found the link and a link to the book itself.

" If you cannot accept that all emotions are pain, if you believe that actually some emotions are purely pleasurable, then you are not a Buddhist."

While I'm not a Buddhist, I'm assuming emphasis was meant to be placed on the bold section. I believe what he's getting at is that there is some sort of element of pain that comes with each and every emotion and that none can be completely and purely pleasurable. I agree with that.

That sounds like mistaking an emotion or sensation for the attachment to that emotion or sensation. Pema Chodron wrote about this once, how part of the resolve to be free from attachment stems from the thought that if you're not attached to a pleasurable emotion, then you're are completely and utterly free to enjoy it without the pain. That part of the emotion that mistakes the source of the emotion as being outside of one's self, or that by repeating something you can get precisely the same experience - this is to forget about the impermanence of all composite things.

If I buy, eat and enjoy ice cream, there is no pain in that. Pain arises if I'm attached to the enjoyment, and I make the mistake that the enjoyment is somehow transfered from the ice cream to myself through my mouth, and if I further make the assumption that more ice cream will keep me in a state of enjoyment. I think that is where the pain comes from, not from the enjoyment itself.

Without objects of attachment, emotions can be incredible things. Anger without an object of attachment can be enlightening. Joy without an object of attachment can be ... experienced as the first jhana in meditation. I can't recall, precisely, the thoughts on emotions without attachment. I read about them somewhere before and it was especially intriguing. Perhaps I'll come across it again! biggrin

(By the way, this is a very interesting topic, in my opinion!)

It is very interesting, and I believe that you are right to contradict the author. However, there are extremely subtle and complex philosophical (as well as linguistic) distinctions that should be made as we pursue this topic further.

The most important is the distinction between four subjects: the act, the attachment to the act, the experience of the act, and the attachment to the experience of the act. Among the various sects and literatures, you can see each of these being attacked or defended in an extremely wide variety of ways. I will try to lay down the arguments for each.

1) The act. In terms of personal understanding and achievement, there can be no such thing as wrong acts. It is the attachment to the act which creates attachment, and knowledgable restraint of an act can also create attachment. However, the *act itself* can produce karma, regardless of intent or attachment, and Right Action is nevertheless a prerequisite of pure understanding.

2) Attachment to the act. While this is always treated as bad, the subtlety comes from recursion and reflection. While one cannot have attachment to the act, one also cannot have attachment to not doing the act; similarly, one cannot have attachment to "not having attachment to the act". Obviously, one can build intensely complicated recursions and reflections o this principle.

3) The experience of the act. Attachment aside, to knowledgably experience something is to accept the perceptions that accompany it. This does not in itself present a problem until it is interpreted in terms of Right Thought, and one realizes that the acceptance of perception and the emotions attached to it are very different things.

4) The attachment to the experience of the act. Clearly, this is intertwined with Right Thought and Right Action, as well as the normal feelings of attachment. But this can be even more profound, because of a distinct human trait: reflective memory. By remembering, or wanting to remember, we can immerse ourselves back in the experience of the act without being a part of the act itself. Thus, the act of remembering must be reinterpreted through this tetralemma, becoming an act in itself.

One should ask where emotion falls into this picture. Emotion is everywhere humans are. Emotion can accompany the act, influencing the karma associated; emotion can accompany the attachment to the act, or the restraint of the act; emotion can accompany the experience and perception of the act, influencing one's memory, and thus becoming a part of the attachment to the experience of the act.

One should also ask what pain is. Is pain attachment, or vice versa? Is pain everything which blocks us from enlightenment, or everything which produces karma? A more specific definition of pain would become extremely convoluted (and, as with all things, nondualistic), and eventually unusable. The immediate conclusion is that pain and life are nondual, and mutually everpresent. Emotions are pain, because everything is pain. Enlightenment comes from increasing one's understanding beyond this first layer of the universe, encompassing the pain, the life, the compassion associated with it.

Ummm...again, that was two horrid posts in one day. That must be an extremely confusing passage. I apologize.