There are the things that are going to happen in life. We can never maintain a fixed identity. Although we tend to anchor our identities to experiences, relationships, or to other things that we think define who we are,...
I recently listened to Brene Brown interviewing Dr. Maya Shankar about courage in the midst of change on the podcast Dare to Lead. Dr. Shankar said, “The reason we often have so much discomfort in the face of change is because it threatens our identity and sense of self.” This made me think of non-self.
In the 4th century, Bodhisattva Vasubandhu discussed the concept of non-self. In short, what we consider to be “me” or “I” is not a permanently existing entity. Rather, we are what happens when we come into contact with the rest of the world.
Despite our inclination to want to have an identity that can fit into a neat little box with a label on it, the conception of self that we imagine does not have any independent reality.
Thich Nhat Hanh explains in his book The Heart of the Buddha’s Teaching that “believing something is permanent or has a self can cause suffering.” He says that “nonself means that you are made of elements which are not you.”
Hence the Buddhist concept of anatta, or “non-self.”
In the podcast, Dr. Maya Shankar talks about how she trained to be a violinist, studying at Juilliard under a renowned teacher, but an injury at 17-years-old precluded her from continuing that path. This was a major blow to her sense of identity, which had been intertwined with the violin.
These are the things that are going to happen in life. We can never maintain a fixed identity. Although we tend to anchor our identities to experiences, relationships, or to other things that we think define who we are, it inevitably leads to our suffering. This is because experiences are fleeting, relationships are not eternal, and things come and go.
The non-self is a way to let go of these attachments.
Yet it feels like a delicate balancing act, because on the one hand, if we love to play the violin, we want to invest in it. We want to do our best. It’s very difficult to separate yourself from the violin in that scenario.
Dr. Shankar gives practical advice that I think can relate to Buddhist practice. She took a deep dive to discover what she enjoyed about the violin, and she discovered she loved the connection it forged with others. She was able to take that insight and understand that there were other ways she could experience connection. Dr. Shankar went on to study behavior science and paired it with public policy, realizing she felt a similar fulfillment as what she experienced with the violin.
I think the lesson is that there is not one path for a meaningful life. An attachment to a conception of self causes us to suffer because impermanence rules the day. When we embrace this truth, we can begin to live in a way that opens our minds to new possibilities and more joy. This is what I believe Buddhism helps us do.
