The fourth “great fear” of Buddhist teaching is “fear of loss of livelihood.” It is interesting that this doctrine was formulated by monastics living a life of mendicancy and voluntary poverty. One would think that the vow of poverty would liberate monks from the ordinary anxieties of earning a livelihood, but of course the monks and nuns were utterly dependent on what was put into their begging bowl by local villagers. If nothing was put in, there would be no meal that day. The fear of not being fed or having our material needs taken care of is deeply human, and not just human. Every creature lives with this fear. It is basic.
All of us have just gone through a year of such anxiety. Millions of people have lost their jobs. Many peoples’ life savings were depleted and have still not fully recovered. Buddhism is right; this fear is a “great” fear. It keeps us from sleeping at night. It causes panic attacks and depression. It predisposes us to drink or drugs, and stresses relationships and marriages. Even for otherwise healthy people, this is a big one. What does Buddhist practice have to offer us, especially if we are older and are not able to envision making a new start and recovering what we have lost?
This post is the first of two in which I will make a few observations and suggestions. First of all, it is only among the middle-class and above in America that we can routinely assume much real financial or material security. Most people in the world today never have such security, and in some parts of the world people are like the Buddhist monks of old—they never know from one day to the next whether they will have enough food for themselves or their children. So here most people (but by no means all) start from a baseline of basic needs being reasonably met.
What Buddhism teaches us is that clinging to anything as a “baseline” (whether it is our physical body, food, money, or a home) creates a baseline of anxiety as well. Suffering is caused by clinging—that is core teaching. Fine, we say, now that I just lost my home I know that. What else have you got for me?
What Buddhism has for us is the up side of continuous change—the possibility that things might change for the better. Even when we are old, even when we are ill, even when our life is a sea of compounding losses, there is always this next moment, this next breath. This is the principle of “every breath, new chances.”
More on this principle next time!
Hi Lewis,
thank you for the honesty.
Standing on one side of a fence and looking in has been a part, been most of my life until recently as an addiction to pleasure, which has a range, like the feeding range of an animal, which runs out, continually.
Somewhere along the path to enlightenment, or bliss, or consumption I stopped and thought… “Is this all there is, am I just an animal?” The animal inside me ignored the question, but the spirit from which doubt arises began to manifest in depth, seeing deep connections beneath all events, and eye contact became very important.
Direct contact with One true nature contains the rejection as fear, and so much of fear is anger, and noise at first. Within me is a calming down, and a watching now, in seeing each moment relating to more than the filling of desire, to the emptying of the shallow shadow side of the desire to feed fear. Can be a lonely place, is a lone place, one place is.
“Just” an animal? You ARE an animal, if you would allow the true, natural animal human to just be, there would be no judgment. Just be.
I’m eating an apple, with my left hand. Index finger on right hand is typing. My brain tells my hands what to do, but neither hand is doing the most important thing or just being… which is not an either or choice to make, but just receive. thanks : )
As I turn 66 this April and am still employed I contemplate the remainder of my life. It’s uncharted territory, but I look forward to figuring out how to enjoy it as best I can. Financial concerns need to be addressed…health concerns, another…I’m grateful for all the friendships I have, because I feel they make the journey a little easier. Even our ‘last breath’ is not really a problem, but part of the journey…
Thanks for the topic, Lew!
I am a self-employed lawyer in practice with my spouse. We never know who will come through the door needing our help. Lately, very few. So, I never know whether we’ll be able to pay the bills. This state of affairs is one we have lived with for many years. In order not to waste my life is a continual state of panic, worry, depression, and anguish, I have turned more and more to meditation. It’s not that I don’t feel all of the above, it’s just that I’ve tried to become friendlier to these feelings and to realize they needn’t rule my life. We may get through this recession still in practice or we may not. I don’t know. But I do feel that I begin to understand something about the issue of “clinging”.I remind myself that if my life takes an unexpected turn, then I’ll adjust and explore what’s around the bend.
Reading this post brought in so many scenes in my life,brought tears in my eyes as I saw myself after my divorce 5 years ago. This was a tremendous fear I had. Here is where I get quiet and bow my head and be grateful that I am a buddhist and aware of this suffering. This fear comes but I am able to look at it, stop it from paralyzing me, and be at the present. Have not missed a meal yet.
Thanks, Lewis. As I read the article, I felt like I went in slow motion, saw every word, comma and period. Thank you.
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Thank you Lewis for this article. I work privately as a psychotherapist, and I never know neither whether I will have enough patients as to accomplish my financial commitments nor how much am I going to earn. I had been living like this for 33 years and along these years very few times I stopped to think what would happen if I would not have enough: something deep in me trusted always that things would be the way they had been, as long as I did my work the best I could focusing on the very only patient I had in front of me instead of thinking ahead. When I divorced from my husband, I started panicking wondering If I would manage, as I had two girls to raise and support. But, things went out well, and still do. I trust in that deep Inner Wisdom that lies somewhere in us which Knows how to find the way out to survive.
One more week and the livelihood I have enjoyed will be done. I could be sent to another project in two months, but that is dream like and indeterminate. Two months, two years, who knows?
There is a sense of freedom of limitation. I am watching for fear but there is none. So here I present a monologue of this current experience of livelihood’s interruption. Maybe it is useless, maybe it is not.
It seems easiest to attribute the lack of fear to simple presence. This presence is not of the sort like being here in the moment. It is not like being attentive to watching the river flow by, setting up a continuum of coming and going.
This presence is more akin to floating, relaxed resting in river’s currency, embraced with the river’s flow such that water is not moving by at all, just so, so timeless like.
The shores pass, like life’s display, each bend a new vista. In such timelessness of what use is fixation on a passing shore so soon gone, nailing it down, or what is around the next bend making what is not real as real?
Of what use is fixating on such confusion and thereby being confused?
In timelessness, of what use is reifying the indeterminate as determinate?
Why be seduced by memories of past experiences that imprint anticipation of future events? This merely gives power to fear.
By asking these questions, in reflection, the honest answer is laughter.
So this abundant gig that is closing upon itself, just is. Merely another passing divine appearance of innate purity that is perfectly so.
How can fear of losing livelihood climb my back if there are no footholds found?
With a begging bowl I may go!
Thanks for everyone’s post. This arena of livelihood is indeed deep!