When I began exploring Buddhist practice just over five years ago, I started with what many might call “the basics.” These are the foundational principles on which the Buddha based his teachings. I learned about the Four Noble Truths, which summarize the path toward enlightenment and the end of suffering. While I generally understood the steps that the Buddha outlined, the actual cessation of suffering is neither simple to understand nor easily accomplished. Nevertheless, my subsequent introduction to the six paramitas and the three poisons helped me to better grasp the path by providing me with a tangible list of qualities to cultivate. This list revealed to me the personal responsibility I have for my own suffering.
The six paramitas—generosity, morality, patience, concentration, wisdom, and diligence—are a set of virtues that strengthen one’s practice and aid in one’s journey toward enlightenment. Also commonly known as the “transcendent perfections,” the paramitas describe the true nature of an enlightened being, and practicing each of them requires tapping into one’s own buddha-nature.
The paramitas are also strategically utilized to combat the three poisons, which the Buddha identified as the three most negative qualities of the mind that cause most of our problems—and most problems in the world. These are greed, anger, and ignorance. The Buddha emphasized these poisons or “unwholesome roots” in his early teachings, and he warned of how dangerous these states can become if they are not understood and transformed.
The three poisons are everywhere; we do not need to look far to see them in action. We see them every day in the news and in the streets, and if we pay attention we can see them in our own minds and actions. In many cases, they seem unavoidable and out of our control; we cannot force anybody to be less greedy, for instance, nor can we easily rid ourselves of anger in frustrating situations. In many ways, we have been conditioned to feel and express these poisons in a variety of situations. In others, they seem naturally embedded in our personalities and habitual patterns. Nevertheless, the Buddha taught that if we become mindful of how the poisons cause harm, we can learn to manage them. In turn, we can nurture behaviors or practices such as the paramitas that combat the harm caused by our greed, anger, and ignorance.
Personal engagement with anger
Since learning about the three poisons, I have spent considerable time trying to identify, interpret, work with, and sometimes suppress these negative feelings when each of them begins to arise. My journey with understanding my anger has been especially complex. Often referred to as hatred, anger has presented itself in my life in many forms, such as through an aversion and repulsion toward unpleasant people, circumstances, and even my own uncomfortable feelings. On countless occasions, I have responded to stimuli with hostility, aversion, and sometimes even ill will.
After first learning about the poisons and recognizing the prevalence of this specific shortcoming in my life, I have spent significant time working toward ridding myself of anger in the hope of becoming more even-minded. While a meditation and mindfulness practice geared toward ridding myself of anger has benefited me in plenty of ways, I have also come to realize that in the modern world, this practice is not always entirely reasonable and productive as it has often resulted in avoidant or detached behaviors, among other things.
In Western philosophy, there is a sub-discipline known as the philosophy of the passions, which questions whether emotions, especially those viewed as generally negative, serve some greater ethical purpose. The philosophy of the passions reflects an ongoing debate about the role of emotions in human life as well as their origins, effects, and relation to rationality. The question is, are they disruptive forces that need to be controlled or essential aspects of our humanity that we should embrace?
The Stoics viewed passions as irrational and harmful disturbances of the mind—a form of emotional excess that disrupts inner peace and the ability to make sound judgments. The Stoic ideal was what we might call apathy, or freedom from passions, where one exercises reason to control emotions and achieve tranquility. In this view, passions are seen as errors in judgment, leading one away from reason and virtue. On the surface, this view seems to align with the Buddha’s teachings about not only the three poisons but also the practice of equanimity, which is a desirable state of mental balance and composure, especially in difficult or stressful situations.
Nevertheless, many philosophers have advocated for the importance of both feeling and expressing one’s passions. For example, Friedrich Nietzsche advocated for the full expression of passions. He saw them as vital forces that should not be repressed but embraced and harnessed for creative and life-affirming purposes. Nietzsche even emphasized the importance of anger specifically, which he thought could lead to the flourishing of individuals and culture.
As I navigate the philosophy of passions in the modern world, I find resonance with Aristotle’s view. He believed that passions are a natural and essential part of human life, but they require moderation. His concept of the Golden Mean suggests that virtue lies in the balance between excess and deficiency. For Aristotle, passions were not inherently evil; they could be aligned with reason and contribute to virtuous action when adequately regulated. This perspective raises the question: if channeled properly, can feelings of anger, hostility, or even ill-will stimulate virtuous action when viewed through a Buddhist lens?
I am reminded of a Dharma talk I attended in which the speaker said that practicing Buddhism does not equate to “being a doormat.” The Buddha himself did not teach suppression, nor did he teach avoiding discomfort; he taught awareness. In fact, the practice of meditation in its simplest form is not an escape, as many assume it is, but rather an opportunity to sit with and pay attention to our present sensations and discomforts, no matter how unpleasant they may be. Anger is uncomfortable, and it surely has the potential to cause more harm than good, but that does not mean that it is entirely meritless.
Moving toward a harmony of philosophical ideals
While I believe in the importance of maintaining composure in life, I’ve come to realize that anger can also serve as a powerful motivator for ethical action. The countless injustices in the world that make me angry are a testament to this, as ignoring this anger might lead me to turn a blind eye to moral transgressions when I could be taking action. This realization has reshaped my understanding of anger, showing that it can be a force for positive change.
Just as we create space for discomfort in meditation, we must be willing to do the same with our anger. Nonetheless, if we choose to take action inspired by anger, we must manage it skillfully without allowing it to control us. Aristotle emphasized the importance of regulation and moderation. Through a Buddhist lens, these might be equated to awareness and mindfulness.
Put simply, as long as we do not act on it directly, anger may contribute to virtuous action. The practice that I have incorporated in my life that allows me to honor my anger without letting it control me is creating a cognitive distance between my feelings of anger and my subsequent actions. This usually requires time, space, and enough self-control to refrain from immediately reacting to upsetting stimuli. When I observe an injustice and feel enraged, I make space for my anger and recognize it as an indicator that there is some circumstance that needs to change. Then, before I speak or act in response to what has upset me, I wait until I know that my words and actions are coming from an intention to create a more just and equitable world. I give my anger time to transform into a longing for something better, and thus the action itself is more compassionate than it would have been had I reacted immediately. Hence, anger has transformed into something productive.
Suppressing our emotions and closing our hearts because we are experiencing a negative feelings is not the proper way to deal with them. While labeled as a “poison” by the Buddha, anger is simply a mind state; it takes volition to create the action. If it is observed with a rational and understanding mind, it does not inherently hurt us. It is only when we get lost in it that it hurts somebody. By refusing to suppress or act out our anger, we may utilize it to alert us when something is wrong and respond skillfully as we watch it come and go.
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