Best Of

The topic of self and not-self can seem awfully complex or paradoxical from the Buddhist POV, but I think it’s helpful to see it this way: The word self, atta, is defined as that which is constant, completely under one’s control, and happiness/comfort. Not-self, on the other hand, anatta, is defined as that which is inconstant, conditioned, not fully under one’s control, unsatisfactory/painful. And one of the practices that the Buddha advises a practitioner to develop is mindful awareness, first analyzing the body and searching for such a self. Then the same for mental states, feelings, and the confluence of object, sense base, and the sense consciousness that arises from it. And even in the depths of meditative states of concentration and pleasure. Along the way, one notices that neither our body nor our mental states constant or fully under our control. And, if one is fortunate enough to be able to develop and sustain them, one may even find the same for deep and subtle states of meditative absorption. Some may seem more constant than others (e.g., the body vs. mental states, the latter of which arise and cease much faster), and some may be more pleasant (like the jhanas obviously); but ultimately, we begin to see that none are truly stable, lasting, and under our total control. And so, the perception arises that the body isn’t self, mental states aren’t self, and even blissful states of consciousness within meditation aren’t self. We also start to see the causes and conditions that go into their arising and ceasing, as well as the limits of control we have over that arising and ceasing and our experiences related to them, i.e., “When this is, that is. From the arising of this comes the arising of that. When this isn't, that isn't. From the cessation of this comes the cessation of that” (Ud 1.3). And eventually, we come to realize that what we tend to think of as self is less of a solid reality and more an active process of self-identification with the objects, organs, and qualia of our experience—a realization that makes it easier to unidentify when appropriate, reducing our attachment and the suffering that arises from our clinging to that which is inconstant, not fully under our control, and not truly fit to be metaphysically labeled as self. Perhaps there’s something underlying our experience that we can touch or realize that is constant, blissful, and totally sovereign over itself. But for the most part, that’s not the case. Nevertheless, we can still use this process of selfing skillfully in our practice, as well as our day-to-day lives, in order to reduce our suffering and increase our happiness and ease. And who knows how much more.