Tricycle speaks with Buddhist psychotherapist Mark Epstein about making peace with our deepest longings.
I’m suggesting that the meditative path includes desire. Too many people have tried to simply push desire away, only to get stuck, or to find it errupt in their lives in destructive ways. Opening to desire without succumbing to its fixations provides an alternative to those for whom a simple denial of desire has meant a denial of their very experience of life.
A LUST FOR LIFE
An excerpt from Dr. Epstein's latest book, Open to Desire:
When I began to work as a psychotherapist, after completing many years of medical and psychiatric training undertaken after my introduction to Buddhism, I discovered how important it was to be able to admit to, or “own,” one’s desires. Freud’s initial emphasis in psychoanalysis, in fact, was all about helping people plagued with forbidden desires.
Many sincere people, drawn to Eastern spirituality, are in danger of throwing out the baby with the bathwater. In identifying the cause of suffering as desire, they struggle to eliminate it from their being. A number of these people have come to consult with me, wondering why their spiritual pursuits have not brought them the peace of mind they were expecting. To sit with them in a room is to feel someone pretending. There can be a closed, shut-down, anxious, or fearful quality underlying the way they express themselves. When I maneuver them into a willingness to be more honest about their desires, a different feeling emerges. They become more present, alive, open, and tender. The brittleness disappears. It becomes easier to breathe. All of the feelings that I associate with meditation, that I want to make accessible to people through the medium of psychotherapy, open up when people become able to treat their desires as their own.
There is more to desire than just suffering. There is a yearning in desire that is as spiritual as it is sensual. Even when it degenerates into addiction, there is something salvageable from the original impulse that can only be described as sacred. Something in the person wants to be free, and it seeks its freedom any way it can. This is one of the major insights to have precipitated out of my study of the psychologies of East and West. There is a drive for transcendence that is implicit in even the most sensual of desires. While there are certainly currents in both Eastern and Western spiritual traditions that dismiss or denigrate desire, encouraging us to forsake it through renunciation or sublimation, there is another, more controversial, alternative that I have found necessary in helping my patients.
Known in the East as the tantric, or “left-handed,” path, desire, in this view, is a vehicle for personal transformation. It is a yoga in its own right. Rather than treating it as the cause of suffering, desire is embraced as a valuable and precious resource, an emotion that, if harnessed correctly, can awaken and liberate the mind. In this way of thinking, desire is the human response to the discontent described in the Buddha’s First Noble Truth. It is the energy that strives for transcendence but, if it is to truly accomplish its goals, the seeker must learn to relate to it differently. He or she must learn how to use desire instead of being used by it. In this sense, desire is the foundation for all spiritual pursuits. As the well-known contemporary Indian teacher Sri Nisargadatta, famous for sitting on a crowded street corner selling inexpensive bidis, or Indian cigarettes, once commented, “The problem is not desire. It’s that your desires are too small.” The left-handed path means opening to desire so that it becomes more than just a craving for whatever the culture has conditioned us to want. Desire is a teacher: when we immerse ourselves in it without guilt, shame, or clinging, it can show us something special about our own minds that allows us to embrace life fully.
From Open to Desire, ©2004 by Mark Epstein. Reprinted with permission of Gotham Books.
Image 1: A Glimpse of the Loved One, eighteenth century India, opaque watercolor on paper, 9 × 5.875 inches; courtesy of The San Diego Museum of Art (Edwin Binney 3rd collection).