Buddhism,  Disaster,  Disease

The Truth of Suffering: Dealing with the Coronavirus Pandemic

Just over two years ago we faced an alarming revelation: a new disease had emerged, characterized by its high transmission rate and lethal potential. At that time, we had neither knowledge of treatment nor a vaccine. Our sole defenses were lockdowns, quarantines, masks, hand sanitizer, and social distancing. Every day, news outlets would broadcast the mounting death toll worldwide. Fear permeated our lives as we confronted the chilling prospect of losing ourselves or our loved ones. This was the stark reality during the COVID-19 pandemic.

With the advent of vaccines and treatments, life began to regain some semblance of normalcy. But this relief was short-lived. Humanity found itself threatened by a disease we had once eradicated through vaccination: monkeypox. This variant of smallpox breached the boundaries of the African continent and spread to Europe, and subsequently, the rest of the world. Were we on the brink of another pandemic? Would we again have to isolate, enduring more loss? Once again, this ominous shadow loomed over society.

Fortunately, the lethality of monkeypox is relatively low, and as a known virus, vaccines were quickly approved, and production resumed. This development offered us a glimmer of hope. But how do we grapple with this underlying fear? The environmental degradation wrought by humanity gives rise to diseases and their mutations. This shadow, much like a roaming cloud in the sky, alternates between casting darkness and allowing moments of clarity.

In facing this predicament, what wisdom can we draw from Buddha’s teachings? To address this question, we need to revisit Buddha’s first sermon, Dhammacakkappavattanasutta. In it, he delineates the First Noble Truth, proclaiming:

Now this is the noble truth of suffering. Rebirth is suffering; old age is suffering; illness is suffering; death is suffering; association with the disliked is suffering; separation from the liked is suffering; not getting what you wish for is suffering. In brief, the five grasping aggregates are suffering…

B. Sujato, Dhammacakkappavattanasutta, Rolling Forth the Wheel of Dhamma (Suttacentral: 2018).

In this context, the reality that surrounds us is essentially suffering, as all life stages are fraught with it. Families usually regard birth with immense joy, a perspective that tends to obscure the underlying hardships. Pregnancy is a form of suffering for both the mother and the baby. The mother endures back pain, various discomforts, nausea, and more, while the baby, confined within the mother’s womb, can even experience discomfort from the mother’s dietary choices, such as spicy foods. Birth itself is a painful process for both parties involved. Therefore, despite a baby’s arrival being a source of joy, it is inevitably entwined with suffering.

This perspective permeates all life stages, including lamentation. Lamentation, or the habitual act of expressing grief about something, amplifies the suffering that the event or circumstance already inflicts. The loss of a loved one, separation—these are forms of suffering. Lamentation magnifies this suffering because it continuously recalls the pain, thereby intensifying it.

The fear of separation is another manifestation of suffering, as we dread the loss of the ones we hold dear. As the pandemic’s death toll rose, this fear loomed ever closer. We witnessed neighbors succumbing to the disease, and the sting of grief started knocking at our own door:

Sorrow with intense worry and alarm is felt especially when one is bereaved of loved ones such as husband, wife, sons, and daughters, brothers, sisters, etc., or when disastrous economic misfortune befalls one. This soka, sorrow is, strictly speaking, domanassa vedanā (a displeasurable feeling) and as such is intrinsic suffering (dukkha-dukkha). Overwhelming distress occasioned by sorrow is liable to cause pyrosis or heartburn which may contribute to premature aging and even death. Being a basis for other physical pain, too, soka is fearsome and is, therefore, named dukkha by the Blessed One.  

V. M. Sayadaw, Dhammacakkappavattanasutta, the great discourse on the wheel of dhamma (Segnalor: SukhiHotu Dhamma Publications, 1998), 171-172.

This sorrow, this feeling of loss, instigates more suffering, trapping the individual in a vicious, degenerative cycle. It’s crucial to address this issue. We tend to cling to people and possessions, forgetting the principle of impermanence. We desire everything and everyone to endure indefinitely. Even though reality consistently demonstrates that change is constant, we persist in evading it. And when separation becomes inescapable, we grieve the loss and suffer accordingly.

We need to recognize suffering, understand it, and identify it. Only then can we effectively meditate on it. The goal in Buddhism is not to become accustomed to suffering, nor to passively accept it, but to liberate ourselves from it. Without acknowledging its existence and understanding its nature, it’s impossible to chart a course towards liberation.

With regard to the middle term, G [Charles Goodman] actually agrees with the alternate traditional Indological etymology of duḥkha (dukkha) that I cite, as originally meaning something like “unbalanced, unstable,” which is also the literal meaning of its Greek equivalent astathmeta in Pyrrho’s version of the Trilaksaṇa. It is manifestly clear that these two terms, as terms, correspond very well to each other. Yet after agreeing with my analysis, G says, “this kind of etymological analysis can tell us only that the word duḥkha might have meant ‘unstable,’ . . . [but in] the texts of what Beckwith calls ‘Normative Buddhism,’ the extremely common word duḥkha/dukkha has two closely related primary meanings: ‘suffering’ and ‘pain’.” G thus insists nevertheless that the views of Normative Buddhism, particularly its modern “popular” form, tell us what historical Early Buddhism was like, despite a gap of over half a millennium. Yet practically every serious modern work on Buddhism rejects the validity of translations like “suffering” (q.v. below), which also make no sense in the Early Buddhist context.  

C.I Beckwith, “Early Buddhism and Incommensurability,” Philosophy East and West 68, no. 3 (2018): 1012–1013.

Another point of concern is that “suffering,” the most common translation of “dukkha,” fails to encapsulate the full scope of the word. Perhaps we should consider using “dissatisfaction” instead. Or, given its unique significance, we might deem “dukkha” as a term that defies precise translation, adding it to the list of untranslatable words due to its particular meaning:

The Buddhist concern with dukkha has caused it to be labelled a negative philosophy, but the point is not to cause feelings of misery or depression. The emphasis on dukkha is to help human beings straightforwardly acknowledge its existence, identify its causes, and free themselves from it. An awareness of dukkha and its causes leads to a wish to be free from the attitudes and actions that lead to dukkha. And if we can wake up to the causes of our suffering, ultimately we can be free from the cycle of suffering altogether.  

S. J. Fitzpatrick, et al. “Religious Perspectives on Human Suffering: Implications for Medicine and Bioethics,” Journal of Religion and Health 55, no. 1 (2016): 165.

In other words, acknowledging that human life is interwoven with suffering should not serve as a reason to perpetuate more suffering. Instead, it must be the catalyst for a steadfast commitment to liberation from suffering. One does not seek freedom without recognizing they are confined. Pursuing liberation through the Noble Eightfold Path demands perseverance from the practitioner and a determination to make necessary changes. As Śantideva paraphrased in “Bodhicaryāvatāra,”[1] we should carefully weigh our choices. If something benefits us now but causes suffering in the future, we should avoid it. Conversely, if something is unpleasant in the present but promises benefits in the future, we should pursue it. This is analogous to taking a bitter medicine when we’re ill for the promise of future wellness.

Pandemics inevitably induce stress, as we are perpetually apprehensive about the future, suffering in anticipation of a possible separation. Je Tsongkhapa[2] penned important reflections on the uncertainty of the time of death. We are alive at this moment, but can we assert with certainty that we’ll still be here in the next second? We are only a breath away from the transition between this life and the next.

However, when a pandemic occurs, fear takes hold. During the COVID-19 pandemic, people succumbed to a myriad of other causes aside from the disease itself. There were fatalities from natural causes, car accidents, diseases for which vaccines exist, such as measles, and of course, deaths from the coronavirus. But viewing the climbing death toll depicted in news graphics, a sense of fear was inevitably instilled:

Considering the differences between Buddhist and Western cultures in cosmologies, traditions, and cognitive styles; it seems plausible that the way stress is defined, experienced, and coped with may also differ in these societies. Buddhists consider stress as a form of dukkha (Sanskrit duhkha or suffering) and an inevitable part of human existence…

P. D. Tyson, and R. Pongruengphant, “Buddhist and Western Perspectives on Suffering, Stress, and Coping,” Journal of Religion and Health 46, no. 3 (2007): 352.

It is by reflecting and meditating daily on death and what surrounds it— be it our own or of those around us. This contemplation can inspire a strong desire to engage in a routine or path of training, which can guide us toward liberation from suffering.

Certain pains will persist—separation is painful, but it doesn’t need to be debilitating. Fear doesn’t have to serve as an additional source of stress. We must endeavor each day to triumph over the changes we need to make.


References

[1] Shantideva, Bodhicharyavatara, P. Tsai Translation (2016).

[2] L. J. Tsongkhapa, Lamrim Chenmo, P. Tsai Translation (Valinhos: Buda, 2020).


© Niravana França, 2023.

This work is licensed under Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International (CC BY-NC-SA 4.0).

Cover Image: “Eternal Suffering” by photographymontreal licensed as Public Domain Mark 1.0.

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Nirvana França is a PhD Candidate at the Methodist University of São Paulo in the Sciences of Religion. She researchers Indian Buddhism, Buddhist monasticism, Gender in Buddhism, and Buddhist Philosophy. She currently edits Revista Mandrágora and Revista Estudos de Religião.