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Sex and the Single-minded

Dharma Life Summer 1998

Maitreyabandhu considers the issues that sexual craving raises for people pursuing a spiritual life

Shortly after I encountered Buddhism I confidently predicted that I would be celibate within three years. Why it was three years rather than two or five, I do not know. What I did know was that I wanted to get on with living the spiritual life as wholeheartedly and uncompromisingly as possible. To me that meant being celibate within three years.About 12 years later I am still sexually active, still involved in the same sexual relationship, and still trying to live the spiritual life in a wholehearted and uncompromising way. It is not that I have given up on celibacy, nor that I no longer experience sexual relationships as a compromise (in some ways I feel the compromise more acutely than ever). But I have a more realistic view of the forces I am trying to transform. I have grown up a bit, and my naive confidence has been tempered by a deeper understanding of the difficulties of trying to transcend sexual desire.

The spiritual life involves transforming one′s whole being, and resolving within oneself the seemingly paradoxical tensions which that throws up. One such tension, you could say, is between the two great poles of meaning and pleasure; and spiritual life involves an attempt to unite and transcend them. A life without meaning is shallow and paltry; a life without pleasure is almost unliveable. In trying to unite and transcend them we need not only to face up to uncomfortable truths about sex and romance but also to find more genuinely satisfying sources of pleasure which, instead of distracting us from meaning, augment it.

For most this is no easy matter. Many of us find that we cannot simply deny urges for sex nor sever emotional attachment to those with whom we are romantically involved. Otherwise we′ll feel we have abandoned pleasure for the sake of an emotionally sterile ′spirituality′. Before long the need for pleasure � frustrated by what can seem like inhuman ′ideals′ � will probably reassert itself through an emotional reaction. On the other hand, if we do not temper our pursuit of pleasure, sex and sexual relationships can easily dominate our lives. They can take up a great deal of time and emotional energy, leaving little to devote to things of lasting value and meaning.

Our attempts to live lives that unite meaning and pleasure are undermined by a culture obsessed with sex and romance. One feminist writer likens our society to a vast railway siding, given over to the business of shunting and coupling. Almost every pop song, advertisement and film tells us that out there somewhere is our ′significant other′, Mr or Ms Right. They will have a beautifully proportioned body, wear designer clothes and give us the final benediction we have always desired: lasting happiness and ultimate satisfaction. The virtual deification of romantic love in modern society has a host of unhealthy side effects: a preoccupation with sex at the expense of more refined pleasures and a wholesale overestimation of the value of ′the couple′.

According to the Buddha, samsara (ordinary life) is shot through with dukkha, which we might translate as ′unsatisfactoriness′. Wherever we go, whatever we experience, it is not quite enough. We are never quite satisfied, never quite feel complete. There is always a sense that something is missing. One of the principal ways we have of avoiding this experience of incompleteness is by appropriating things from outside ourselves. Sometimes we look for security through possessing material goods, but we also appropriate other people.

When people talk of their ′partner′ or even their ′other half′, they inadvertently hit upon a truth � we try to stick others on to us, as it were, to make ourselves feel whole. Unfortunately it does not work. Nothing from outside can make us feel complete. The experience of dukkha can only be resolved on the level of individual spiritual practice.

The Buddha taught, however, that while life is full of pain, coming to terms with dukkha is also the basis for developing wisdom and compassion. In the midst of the experience of suffering are intimations of the limitless potential of what it is to be human. Unfortunately, instead of striving to activate that potential within ourselves, we often project it outwards, locating the source of value in other people. Romantic love is the projection of completeness on to the incomplete by the incomplete. As such it contains an irreducible element that is painful, frustrating and unsatisfying.

Nowadays everything is marketed and packaged, not just objects and entertainments but even ideas about life. We find ourselves presented with a kind of ′sexual consumerism′. This capitalises on our feeling of incompleteness with the message that it is just that you are doing it wrong, or not enough, or with the wrong person or not enough persons or in the wrong location � Thus we feel that it is our fault that we cannot find lasting happiness and satisfaction from our sexual partner. If only we could get it right � or if only they could � then we would be happy.

We usually do not realise that what we are looking for in sex and romance cannot be found there. These things can give us a measure of pleasure and satisfaction, but not the pleasure and satisfaction we hope and expect. Instead of realising this we tend to blame our residual dissatisfaction on ourselves, our sexual partner, or our lack of one.

The Buddha speaks of life presenting a choice of paths — we can follow a noble quest or an ignoble quest. The noble quest means going in search of the Unconditioned. You could say that in following the noble quest the incomplete goes in search of the complete. But in following the ignoble quest, the incomplete simply pursues the incomplete, on the mistaken assumption that it is actually complete. In both cases there is a search for completeness � that sense of radiant satisfaction and wholeness that characterises the state that goes beyond meaning and pleasure. The difference is that the follower of the ignoble quest is looking in the wrong place. As the Zen poet Ryokan puts it:If you point your cart north when you want to go south, how will you arrive?

The continuing fascination and pain of sexual relationships stems from the fact that they are a search for the right thing in the wrong place. Total satisfaction always feels just a moment away: the next person, the next date. As the Buddha says: ′like the man who drinks salty water, the one who nourishes desire finds his thirst increasing endlessly′. Craving can never be satisfied in this way and in our ultimately futile attempts to satisfy it we cause suffering to ourselves and others. This is one of the most difficult of all human lessons to learn.

Projecting our hidden completeness on to others fools us into believing that it can be found outside ourselves. But when the relationship and its concomitant psychological projections break down, it is often bitterly painful and disappointing for both parties. How often do apparently tender and caring relationships end in mutual recrimination and acrimony? Therefore if we are to escape from suffering we must start to untangle ourselves from what we crave. To put it positively, we must start to look for the right things in the right place.

Craving is a matter of degree. Some sexual relationships are relatively healthy and uncomplicated while others are characterised by neurotic dependency and emotional trauma. Some people act with consideration and maturity in relation to their partners or families. Others restlessly search for the next sexual high or the next ′perfect′ relationship. The main dangers of sex for someone seeking to lead a spiritual life are that it draws us into a state of either emotional dependency or of sexual compulsiveness. Emotional dependency means your emotional well-being is dependent on ′love′ from your partner; this dependency tends to breed an underlying insecurity and anxiety in case that ′love′ is taken away. The consequences of emotional dependency are compromise, unwillingness to rock the boat in our sexual relationship, and domestication.

Over-emphasis on the romantic couple leads to an under-valuation of our other relationships — with friends, family or teachers and those in the spiritual community. Our sense of identity is closely associated with our relationships, and such is the power of romance that a sense of oneself as part of a couple easily predominates. Other relationships come a poor second to that with our partner, and friendships in particular can become weak and perfunctory, because our emotional energy is going into trying to make our sexual relationship work (or into finding one that will). Looking around at my friends, I notice that the most successful sexual relationships are those in which both partners lead lives independent of each other and both are firmly established in a network of effective friendships.

Within many forms of Buddhism, as they have existed traditionally, one is either a monk or a layman. The danger of this division is that a monk is seen as a ′proper′ Buddhist, while the role of a layman or lay-woman is simply to support the monks. The implication is that if you want to be a Buddhist you have to give up sex. Now Buddhism has come to the modern West, many of those drawn to it (in my tradition, the Friends of the Western Buddhist Order, but also in many other traditions) feel they want to commit themselves to Buddhist practice, but do not want to give up sex, or feel unable to do so. At the same time they realise that craving causes suffering.

What are western Buddhists to do? They may not fit in to the traditional monk/lay categories. They want to meditate, go on regular retreats, give time to Dharma study and so on. They want to commit themselves to the spiritual life and, while appreciating the value of rearing children, many feel that family life limits their ability to pursue the Buddhist path wholeheartedly. In any case, conditions in the modern world are different from those of the pre-industrial societies where Buddhism developed. Technology has largely separated sex from pregnancy, with far-reaching consequences for our society. In many countries the family, once the vital social unit, is disintegrating amid soaring divorce rates, the growth of single-parent families and an increasing awareness of sexual options other than heterosexual monogamy.

In response some people seek to spiritualise their emotional dependency with sentimental ideas about ′the loving couple′. Some, enamoured by a new-found sexual freedom, lose themselves in a compulsive and meaningless search for pleasure, while others repress their unwanted sexual feelings in pseudo-religious frigidity. What is needed is a vision of the spiritual life that is realistic about the urgency of sexual feelings and the allure of romance, while offering ways to move beyond involvement, or at least dependency, on them.

The celibate/non-celibate divide with its black and white distinctions, can obscure the real issues presented by spiritual life. Spiritual life is dynamic � it is about progressing from where we are now to states of mind characterised by an increasingly altruistic and universal outlook. Not everyone will want to move away from sexual relationships altogether � some people have family responsibilities while others will be content with a more mature sexual relationship that is supportive of their spiritual aspirations, and which leaves them ample opportunity to develop their respective friendships.

Many, however, will want to go much further. Living the spiritual life means learning the art of overcoming craving, and, little by little, leaving behind the attachments that involve us in sex. Inspired by the Buddha′s life and teaching, some will want to commit themselves wholeheartedly to the spiritual life and will be satisfied with nothing less than a radical and uncompromising approach.

Such people will still have to struggle with sexual desire and romantic exclusivity, but if they work effectively they will untangle themselves from them. They will choose conditions that enable them to develop strong, supportive friendships, and they will seek fulfilment in more genuinely satisfying and refined ways than through sex alone. In so doing they will be uniting and transcending those great poles of meaning and pleasure, thus enabling them to become an ever greater source of good in the world.

It is such a person that I aspire to be.