I want to highlight a curious blindness that many people exhibit when discussing the Buddha’s teachings on suffering. The first of the Four Noble Truths introduces the concept of suffering, or dukkha, which the Buddha describes as follows:
“Suffering, as a noble truth, is this: Birth is suffering, aging is suffering, sickness is suffering, death is suffering, sorrow and lamentation, pain, grief and despair are suffering; association with the disliked is suffering, separation from the loved is suffering, not to get what one wants is suffering — in summary, suffering is the five categories of clinging objects.”
Here, the Buddha lists various sources of suffering in life. Some events, like birth and death, happen infrequently, while others, such as illness, can occur more often. Additionally, experiences like being separated from what we love or being in uncomfortable situations repeat themselves many times even in a single day.
Birth is the first example of suffering that the Buddha mentions, which seems a natural starting point. However, it’s intriguing how numerous writers on Buddhism interpret “birth is suffering” to mean solely that “being born is suffering.” This interpretation has a long history dating back to the treatise “The Path of Purification” by Buddhaghosa, written about 1500 years ago. He cataloged the painful aspects of birth, focusing only on the individual being born.
Reflecting on our own births, we might not remember the experience due to our undeveloped brains at the time. Yet, if we consider our mothers’ perspectives, they likely experienced significant pain and psychological stress during childbirth. Fathers, although not experiencing physical pain, often feel anxious about the well-being of both mother and child, and the same goes for other relatives.
The Buddha lived in a time when childbirth was far more dangerous than it is today for many of us. His own mother supposedly died soon after giving birth to him, likely due to complications. This grim reality still exists in parts of the world, as my two adopted children lost their biological mothers in childbirth.
The most perplexing part of Buddhaghosa’s list is the reference to miscarriages, without mention of the mother’s suffering, which seems incredibly neglectful of her experience. Buddhaghosa’s views have greatly influenced Buddhism, shaping even modern teachings due to an uncritical transmission of his ideas.
Buddhaghosa, being a man, didn’t reflect much on women’s experiences, addressing his teachings mainly to other men. This oversight perpetuates a kind of gender bias, ignoring half of humanity’s suffering. Many contemporary Buddhist teachers continue to convey his myopic perspective. I recently listened to a skilled teacher who repeated the notion that “birth is suffering” purely from the fetus’s viewpoint.
This approach misses out on empathy and compassion—a core Buddhist principle—by overlooking other forms of suffering surrounding birth. The pain of mothers and the anxiousness of fathers are significant and should not be ignored.
Similar issues arise with the concept of death. “Death is suffering” is often reduced to “dying is suffering,” disregarding the emotional pain felt by loved ones and the grief of anticipating their inevitable loss.
These traditional, unreflective presentations of the Buddha’s teachings weaken the practical application of Buddhism. There’s a need to connect Dharma teachings with real-life experiences to avoid them becoming abstract “factoids.” Making these connections enriches our understanding and practice of Buddhism.
Next time you hear a discussion about “birth is suffering” that focuses only on the fetus, consider bringing up the more extensive suffering involved, especially the mother’s. This shift in perspective could foster a more inclusive understanding within Buddhist culture.
It’s enlightening to recognize how ingrained certain interpretations can be and how they shape our perceptions. Despite the constant presence of suffering in the world, we can strive to manage it through practicing gratitude and meditation. It’s essential to remain disciplined in these practices to help cope with the omnipresent reality of suffering.
For those reflecting on how to handle this, starting with self-compassion is crucial, as it helps manage our awareness of others’ suffering. Focusing on the suffering we can personally address makes us feel more empowered, rather than overwhelmed by the totality of global suffering.
The need to recognize gender-specific suffering is clear, though integrating it into the teachings might be complex. Life experiences, such as those involving childbirth and preterm labor, highlight the importance of deepening practice and understanding.
For anyone seeking further reading, I recommend works by Sharon Salzberg and Thich Nhat Hanh, or exploring practical guides like “A Year of Buddha’s Wisdom.”
Misinterpreting the phrase “birth is suffering” may lead to unhelpful subconscious conditioning, potentially causing more suffering. We need to consider all aspects of suffering, including those described by Buddhaghosa and modern interpretations like those by Stanislav Grof, to fully understand the manifestations of the first noble truth.
A broader view of suffering encompassing the experiences of women and other family members during birth provides deeper insights into these teachings. While the Buddha’s core message remains profound, acknowledging the biases in historical interpretations enhances our comprehension and practice of Dharma.
In conclusion, recognizing and addressing these long-standing biases can significantly enrich our understanding of suffering and improve our practice of compassion and empathy within the Buddhist path.