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Desire Causes Suffering?

A reader recently emailed me about my last post; among other things she wondered about my less-than-reverent attitude towards the Buddha. Living in a town full of New Agers (old hippies for the most part), Greens, and refugees from Santa Fe and the Left Coast, it is hard to resist taking pot-shots at the conventional pieties of the enlightened ones. But don't worry; I don't take myself too seriously at it, since it's probably just the same sort of puerile and impish pleasure that the traditional village atheist used to get.

In fact, the notion of 'Desire causing Suffering' was a big part of getting ready to retire early, both as a motivation and as a means. I looked at this issue from the point of view of ancient Stoicism rather than Buddhism, but perhaps there was some overlap.

But when I did retire early I observed retired RVers who were twenty years older than me. It seemed necessary to adjust my attitude to the mantra of 'Desire causes Suffering.' I became more afraid of losing all desires than of having desires. Old people display the same weltschmerz as old dogs or cats, except that they come to thermodynamic equilibrium with Oblivion in front of their boob toob. Dis-invent satellite TV, and most of the RVers would have to bail out quickly.

Thus I lost interest in stern Stoicism and leaned towards their bitter rivals, the Epicureans. I started to cultivate Pleasure, but not in the same way that a youngster or middle-aged bourgeois consumer does. One of the milestones in this conversion was when I went from disliking old-fart motorcyclists to admiring them. 

Rather than seeing Pleasure as a placid mild comfort, earned by virtue of having gotten old, I saw Pleasure as a by-product of conflict and risk, a dialectic of Pain and Pleasure. It helped to become playful about obsessions, and to develop strong Likes and Dislikes, followed by dramatic reversals of these. Outdoor experiences and investing proved to be fertile grounds for practicing these techniques.

Comments

Anonymous said…
Look again. That is not some old fart codger riding some ol' gasoline-powered vehicle....it is a young strapping warrior in the prime of his life mounted on a stallion with racing blood, both decked in the colors of war, well on their way to becoming the heroes that legends are made of...At the end of his successful adventure waits the young ravishing fertile female. No, no, not the old matron who you think you see.
Often this is the pleasure we seek, the living and reliving of the roles that existed for thousands and thousands of years and seem to be deeply imbedded into our psyches. No wonder the cosmetic industry makes the money it does.
I see your point.
Yes, there could be pain. In fact, the first person I ever saw die in front of my eyes was from a motorcycle accident......I was a nearby pedestrian. A beautiful sunny Wednesday, early afternoon in the park, hardly anyone there ......a series of untimely innocent circumstances and the warrior bled to death on the highway while his beautiful female prize remained alive with crippled legs and permanent brain damage.
Is it worth it?
Contrast this to my 92 year old father with advanced parkinson's and dementia......truly a living death.......you would never catch him on a motorcycle. No, not once. Not ever.
Anonymous, thanks for the interesting comments and anecdote. Perhaps the fantasies of the elderly make a good deal of sense, although they are easy for younger people to ridicule.