Karma, Dukkha and Impermanence

by Gan Starling

When relating to the Dharma, it helps greatly to regard no single element as independent from the whole. Gazing too closely at but one facet of a gem, its deeper qualities are easily lost owing to the foreshortened perspective. In all of Buddhist scripture, karma is arguably one of the most myopically apprehended concepts, for it appears deceptively simple. Pray do not be inclined to lean upon it like a crutch, trusting that karma alone is somehow sufficient to secure a future of peace and contentment. Nothing could be further from the truth.

While the sutras clearly state that all experience arises as a result of karma, this is not the same as saying that each and every smallest moment is predetermined by our past. That would be an extreme view, quite outside the Middle Way. We must therefor accept that many happenings aren’t destiny. They needn’t necessarily be anything in particular. Some events will indeed transpire which have nothing at all to do with us, except that we have stumbled into them, or they have come rolling over us. If we learn to embrace a certain small element of randomness as one among the many threads woven into the fabric of our lives, one of our more crippling doubts will be relieved. Never again will we waste effort agonizing ourselves in wonder, “What have I done to deserve this?” Simply accept that part of having taken mundane rebirth will be an occasional brush with chaos. That and, of course, impermanence. The world is in flux. Only one fact is constant: everything changes.

Karma, dukkha, and impermanence: take them as one, for they all exert their separate influences simultaneously. Like gravity and magnetism, they interpenetrate, each exerting its own potential, no one negating another. It is the sum of all their forces which determines what shall be.

So what, exactly, is dukkha? Dukkha is the lack of utter perfection. It is shoddiness, incompleteness, randomness and chaos. All these and more, rolled into one. It is, in a word, suffering [italicize]. Dukkha is profoundly pervasive, thoroughly permeating all things mundane. It is this which makes our suffering seem so inescapable. It even somewhat surpasses karma as a factor obstructing our attainment of any permanent and lasting peace. This is so for two reasons: first, being chaotic it is patently unfair; and second, it remains forever beyond our control.

And this is most important to know. Because if it were not for dukkha, what would be the need of striving for enlightenment? If there were only karma and no dukkha, life would then be totally fair. Everybody would then enjoy total control over the unfolding of their lives. Through avoiding harm, all our suffering would gradually wind down and fade away. By our doing only good, happiness would ripen upon us continually. We could, quite literally, buy our way to eternal bliss. But this is not the way things are. Dukkha spoils it.

Even so, it is still quite accurate to say that all suffering nevertheless does indeed result from karma. Why? Because karma determines every single aspect of this and all our future rebirths. It is directly through karma that we are, forever and again, recycling ourselves through the realms where dukkha operates. Thus it is that by its very imperfect nature daily life is polluted with potential misfortune. By illustration, one could point out that it is nature of water to be wet. This isn’t anybody’s fault in particular. It merely is. Still, by strolling about on a dismal day, we stand a good chance of getting drenched. Fairness nowhere enters into it. No amount of virtuous karma can shield us from every drop of rain. Causes and conditions beyond our control will blow the wetness around and under whatever we might put up for a shield. Continued exposure is sure in time to soak us through and through with dukkha. Eventually we are sure to find this concatenation of unpleasantness wearying to the point of exhaustion.

So it is that once we factor dukkha into the karmic equation, certain arguments are rendered invalid. We cannot claim that beings have earned all the sufferings which they endure. Compassion therefor is not out of place. Nor may we reasonably expect that a lifetime wholly given over to acts of charity and kindness should effect a transformation upon the cosmos. The poisonous elements latent within the karmic past of other beings will by no means have been alleviated by antidotes which we alone have ingested. For a certainty, all of the causes which we put forth will indeed produce a proportionately commensurate result, both in kind and in quality. But it can not in any way be reasonably expected that these returns, all on their own, shall comprise the whole of our experience. In order for such a state of affairs to come into play, without any waste or inefficiencies, we would have to live in a perfect world. And this is obviously not the case.

In the Dhammapada we read: Whosoever injures a harmless, pure and innocent person, the evil will fall back upon that fool, like light dust thrown up against the wind. This clear statement can easily be read both ways. It does not say: Whosoever seeks to injure..., but rather Whosoever injures... Here the scripture clearly admits the potential of injury to such a person, whose karma obviously did not merit it.

Here’s another important key: according to the Tibetan scriptural interpretation, karmas are produced in various levels of completeness. A complete karma is one which produces a fully commensurate result. For completeness three factors must be present: deliberate intent, completion of the act itself, and joyful self-congratulations afterward. Of the three, the middle factor is often considered the least important. This is why they say that in battle, it is the general standing behind the lines who collects the greatest demerit of all. It matters not that he himself took up no weapon. What matters most is that his was the planning, his the directive, and in him did the greatest thoughts of glory and honor arise. The general’s karma is complete, his rejoicing seals it. By distinct contrast: a reluctant draftee up at the front, hunkered down behind his sandbags, who with both thumbs upon the trigger of a water-cooled Gatling gun, with great regret presses it tremblingly down, and pans it tearfully back and forth, squarely into an enemy charge...even though he mows them down by the tens and hundreds...this soldier, while still a murderer, collects a lesser retribution. His heartfelt regret, if utterly sincere, is vastly diminishes its karmic backlash. I sometimes wonder how much this played a role in Tibet’s having had such a poor military. Could it be that nobody wanted to be the general?

And the reverse, of course, is also true. Grudging charity likewise produces a monumentally reduced reward. Rejoicing however, is said to multiply it manyfold! From this we might deduce that karma is the universe’s own reaction to what kind of person we are inside. But this is only part of the story, not the whole of it.

So in conclusion, please remember that Buddha gave no sign whatever that corporeal existence could ever be made exempt from suffering — not even when it came to his own body. He bled when struck by Devadatta. He also aged, growing infirm with the passing years. And in time, he even sickened and passed away. He showed no means to evade karma, defeat dukkha or negate impermanence. Within the sphere of their overwhelming influence, no lasting happiness can be obtained. He emphasized this time and again. Despite karma, life is not entirely fair. Nor will it ever be. Not until Enlightenment.


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