Monday, March 17, 2008

Virya

In my last two posts, we have examined "Instruments of Ill-Omen" with regards to weapons and, in the second post, the martial arts. As I have reflected on the ramifications of the sensible advice presented in the Tao Te Ching, a question has arisen in my mind: what is it, that drives humans to behave in violent ways? How is it, that even peaceful monks are sometimes practitioners of martial arts, though they themselves are harmless beings? Is there something innate in humans, that incites aggression and demands to be excercised?

I personally think there is, and it is nothing more complex than testosterone. Before I am accused of sexism, let me point out that the production of testosterone is hardly unique to men. Classified as a steroid hormone of the androgen group, testosterone is produced not only in the testes of men, but also in the ovaries of women, and thus is common to both. Derived from cholesterol like other steroid hormones, testosterone plays a vital role in the health and well-being of both men and women; but it also has a virilizing effect on both genders, stimulating the growth of muscle mass, strength, bone density, and height, among other effects. And of course, it is the hormonal source of physical prowess and the competative instinct in human beings.

So, it seems to me that humans are hormonally pre-disposed towards physical striving and even competition-- perhaps even aggression. While this is hardly a unique conclusion, I do think that this simple medical fact about human hormones has important implications for Buddhists. Plainly stated, many people seem to regard the peaceful teachings of Buddhism as a repudiation of the human instinct towards exertion and striving. Although there is some disagreement among medical professionals regarding the extent to which instincts are an inherent dispostion or learned behavior, it is clear that to at least some extent, human instincts are innate from birth.

While the Buddha-Dharma does indeed teach us to be part of a community of cooperation, it hardly repudiates this innate aspect of humanity. The Sanskrit word Paramita means "to cross over to the other shore," and carries the implication of "realization," or "perfection." Through the practice of the "Six Perfections" (Generosity, Ethics, Patience, Effort, Concentration, and Wisdom), Buddhists strive to "cross over" the sea of suffering, delusion and ignorance to the shore of Awakening and Liberation (Nirvana). Among these Six Perfections is Virya Paramita, the practice of effort, perseverance, and energy.

It is interesting to note, that the word Virya is a cognate of the words virile, virility, and vigor. But what is most interesting to me, is the way the Buddha-Dharma wisely channels the innate human drive towards striving and exertion, into the healthy process of self-development, and away from unhealthy and violent manifestations of this otherwise normal human instinct. The Buddha-Dharma does not require us to deny or suppress this aspect of our humanity; rather, it celebrates Virya as one of the "Six Perfections" and encourages us to place this human tendency into the service of the rest of humanity. Motivated by compassion, we are roused to strive not only against our own laziness, but to cultivate courage in the face of injustice; perseverence in the face of discouragement; and even physical prowess in our practice of the Dharma. When we, as Buddhists, engage in vigorous Dharma practices such as prostrations, or walking meditation, or prolonged chanting, or even manual labor, we are engaged in the practice and cultivation of Virya Paramita.

Of course, these practices best accomplish their purpose when coupled with conscious mindfulness; but that is the subject for another post. My point here is simply this-- it is a mistake, to think that Buddhism repudiates human virility. Rather, it teaches us to perfect our virility in the service of humanity, and not in the aggrandizement of the ego.

When Shakyamuni Buddha, the historical Buddha, was born in ancient India, the prophets and seers who served his father, King Suddhodana, made a prophecy: either the infant Prince would grow to become a great King, Conqueror, and warrior; or he would grow to become a Holy Man who would turn the Wheel of the Dharma and relieve the suffering of mortal human beings. Thus, within the personality of this most excellent of all humans, these two possibilities were inherent from his birth. Although some Buddhists regard this story as a fable, personally I think that there is an important lesson in the legendary coupling of these apparently exclusive possibilities. Please consider this.