Every now and then, one of the teachings from the Buddhist tradition will keep nagging at me for various reasons. Often, it’s because my mind isn’t fully satisfied with the traditional interpretation.
Even the commonly known teachings of Buddhism, like the four foundations of mindfulness or the twelve links of dependent origination, sometimes seem a bit off to me. So, I end up reinterpreting them in a way that resonates more with my understanding.
Recently, this happened with the teaching on “Three Forms of Suffering (dukkha).” The traditional interpretations felt a bit random, and I couldn’t ignore that feeling of discomfort.
Here’s one of the interpretations of this teaching, simplified:
1. Suffering or Pain (dukkha-dukkhatā): This is the ordinary suffering that includes physical, emotional, and mental pain.
2. Impermanence or Change (vipariṇāma-dukkhatā): Anything that isn’t permanent and is subject to change is considered dukkha. Even happiness falls under this category because it doesn’t last forever.
3. Conditioned States (sankhāra-dukkhatā): This means being dependent on or affected by something else. According to the teaching of dependent origination, all phenomena are conditioned. Everything impacts everything else, and this is the most challenging part of the teachings on dukkha to grasp but is crucial for understanding Buddhism.
The last form of suffering is often referred to as “the suffering of conditioned existence,” implying that unenlightened life is inherently unsatisfactory.
At first, I couldn’t pinpoint what was bothering me about this teaching, but eventually, I realized it was repetitive. The third category of suffering encompasses the other two. Impermanence or change (understood here as a reversal of fortune) is just an example of “conditioned states,” as is ordinary suffering.
This redundancy irritated me.
Additionally, I noticed that the author I had referenced, following a common trend in uncertain interpretations, had rearranged the order of the terms. In the original scriptures, the sequence is always dukkha-dukkhatā (ordinary pain), sankhāra-dukkhatā (conditioned states), and then vipariṇāma-dukkhatā (the pain of reversal of fortune). Later traditions, including the author I referenced, flipped the last two terms because “conditioned states” is the most general term, ostensibly referring to a universal kind of suffering. Placing the most universal form of suffering at the end makes sense, but that’s not the order found in the scriptures, which is puzzling.
One day, the teaching of the three forms of suffering and another teaching on dukkha coincided in my mind. In the Sallasutta (Discourse on the Arrow), the Buddha talked about two “arrows” of suffering: our initial pain and the pain we create in response to that by resisting, lamenting, and wishing things were different.
As the Buddha explained:
“When touched with a feeling of pain, the uninstructed person sorrows, grieves, and laments, beats their breast, becomes distraught. So they feel two pains, physical and mental. Just as if they were shot with an arrow and then shot with another one right afterward, feeling the pain of two arrows; similarly, when touched with a feeling of pain, the uninstructed person sorrows, grieves, and laments, beats their breast, becomes distraught. Thus, they feel two pains, physical and mental.”
The first form of pain is unavoidable. The second is not. So, as the saying goes, “Pain is inevitable, suffering is optional.”
The passage also mentions how clinging to pleasure can be another response to the first arrow, leading to suffering:
“…the uninstructed person does not discern any escape from painful feeling aside from sensual pleasure. As they indulge in sensual pleasure, any passion-obsession regarding that feeling of pleasure takes hold. They do not see, as it truly is present, the origination, passing away, allure, drawback, or escape from that feeling…”
It seems to me that we have here three forms of suffering.
To illustrate these three forms of dukkha: I feel lonely right now because my wife and kids are away for the weekend. The loneliness is “dukkha-dukkhatā,” what we might call “mental” pain but experienced as heartache and a sense of emptiness in my belly, so it’s more physical.
Then, I find myself moping around, feeling sorry for myself, or perhaps thinking I should be more “detached.” Either way, I suffer again. This is fabricated suffering, or sankhāra-dukkhatā.
Alternatively, I might try to suppress my loneliness by overeating potato salad. While eating it, I experience pleasure because it’s delicious, but the potato salad eventually ends, and I’m still lonely. That’s the suffering that comes when our avoidance mechanisms reach their limit: vipariṇāma-dukkhatā.
There’s a well-known discourse illustrating these three forms of suffering with examples, called the Cūḷadukkhakkhandhasutta, or “The Shorter Discourse on the Mass of Suffering.” In this sutta, the Buddha teaches his fellow countryman Mahānāma the Sakyan about the importance of finding skillful alternatives (like meditative happiness) to sensual pleasures. He explains how suffering arises from sensual pleasures.
The first paragraph corresponds to dukkha-dukkhatā, the unavoidable suffering everyone experiences, like being too hot, too cold, or bitten by insects. This is the first arrow.
The second paragraph corresponds to sankhāra-dukkhatā. Here, the person seeks wealth through work, but failure results in self-pity, the second arrow.
The third paragraph corresponds to vipariṇāma-dukkhatā. Even if successful, there’s fear of loss, and any reversal of fortune replaces pleasure with suffering. This is the suffering of reversal.
Sensual pleasure isn’t just about enjoying nice things, tasty food, or sex. It includes the pleasure derived from wanting material things and the joy of possessing them.
These teachings in the parable of the two arrows and the three forms of suffering from the Sallasutta and Cūḷadukkhakkhandhasutta align perfectly. The terms are in the same order in both teachings, eliminating the redundancy of “conditioned states” alongside specific painful states. We can interpret sankhāra as “constructed,” making the teachings more practical and relatable.
I believe this interpretation makes more sense than commonly accepted ones. I suspect that the teaching of the two arrows and the three forms of suffering were originally related. Perhaps the parable of the two arrows was an illustration of the three forms of suffering, or the three forms distilled the essence of the parable. To me, they convey the same teaching differently.
This realignment of the teachings, while minor, helps eliminate these nagging doubts.
There’s a lesson here about how our exposure to commentarial literature can obscure the Buddha’s teachings. Most of us learn Buddhism from books about it, built on previous interpretations, leading to misconceptions. We come to believe there are three forms of suffering, with the third as “the suffering inherent in conditioned existence,” which isn’t what the Buddha taught. This makes us overlook the original teachings or fit them into preconceptions.
This also happens with the teaching of the “two arrows.” Many books overlook the third form of suffering, so even when we read the sutta, we focus more on the first two kinds of suffering.
Ultimately, it’s a relief to discard the vague teaching of “the conditioned.” Instead of seeing it as a metaphysical realm, understanding it as “fabricated” suffering aligns more with the Buddha’s practical teachings, simplifying and grounding them.