This isn’t a topic that is novel or groundbreaking, but recently I have been reflecting a lot on the ways in which our evolutionary programming creates challenges to our lives. Most simply, many evolutionary psychologists have postulated that we have an in-built tendency to be dissatisfied — in their eyes, this personality trait served a clear survival function: those who were not easily satisfied would continue to strive and learn new and better ways to complete tasks, thus increasing their chances of survival. Those who were more naturally at peace, who were satisfied with less, could support fewer off-spring (and mates for that matter); they were more susceptible to random chance as they likely stopped scavenging food when they deemed it was “enough”.
Then, there is a sense of dissatisfaction programmed into us by our surviving ancestors — those who did not rest on their laurels but pushed ever onward for more. Buddhism similar argues this fact. While primary tenet of buddhism is often translated as “suffering is inevitable”, the word suffering can also be translated as “dissatisfaction”. Inevitable dissatisfaction sounds a lot like genetic encoding.
Buddhism then encourages us to accept this fact, and in this acceptance, we begin to let go of our need to constantly avoid the suffering or the dissatisfaction. When we stop trying to “fill” the dissatisfaction, suddenly the whole rat race flips on it’s head, and there is space to be okay with that absence. Dissatisfaction is only dissatisfaction when we are striving for satisfaction. When we stop, then we are released from the cycle.
Would this mean that we all just become lazy? Will those who let go of the mad pursuit of satisfaction become extinct like the less “fit” ancestors before them?
That is the fear. This is the criticism that the conforming part of me certainly shouts. If you relax, you will waste your life. You will settle into mediocrity. One person told me today (though I did not check their sources), that many of the CEOs of major companies rise out of tumultuous childhoods, stressors that forced resilience and a resistance to complacency.
I think there is certainly an argument to be made for the ways that a demanding teacher can encourage grit and growth. I think of the film Whiplash where a youth is pushed to his literal breaking point, and in this tumult, rises to produce musical brilliance.
Yet, I wonder ultimately, if all of these accomplishments are really expressions of a small sense of self, an attempt to fight off ego insecurity. Often, it seems that these triumphs focus on that individual, on goals meant to demonstrate the value and ability of this individual.
What I believe Buddhism encourages, is a release from this small sense of self. When we stop focusing on achievements or seeking out pleasure to fill that gnawing dissatisfaction, we can begin to enter into a larger sense of self — the collective self. We begin to see the ways that we are all compromised of the same material, that our individual bodies are merely time-limited concentrations of matter that are actually far more permeable than our eyes would suggest. As I sit here typing, I am absorbing atoms from the air, I am discharging atoms. I may even be feeling the effects of electrons entangled with those of other loved others scattered around the world.
Perhaps letting go of striving is not a path toward laziness and extinction, but into a deep well of compassion. Perhaps when we stop trying to change our present state, we can be freed to recognize the innate value of all that is.