Monday, January 21, 2008

Precept #5

On Intoxicants
by Seanna Tully


When Sensei first asked me to do the meal chants, I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself, “How does he know? I’m chanting to myself, I’m the hungry ghost.”

You see, when the precepts ask us to abstain from intoxicants, my primary choice of intoxicant is food. It can be overeating a meal and under-eating the next few, consuming lots of sugary food, partaking in restrictive diets, obsessing about the next meal or a particular food, and any other way the compulsive mind twists itself around into that dance between prohibitions and loss of inhibitions.

The fact is my choice of intoxicant is far from extraordinary. It’s a truly an American way of life. Our food is overloaded with highly refined carbohydrates like high fructose corn syrup, and additives like caffeine that cause the blood sugar levels to first rise unnaturally high and drop terribly low, leading to more carbohydrate cravings. So on and on the cycle goes. And that’s just the biochemical part.

Coming out of the holiday season, it seems that as an American citizen, I was born to consume. Commercials on television endlessly grab the mind’s attention to “Eat this,” or “Buy the next greatest and latest gadget.” By the end of this holiday week, the garbage is piled high on the curbside with emptied boxes, torn gift-wrap, and other skeletons from our holiday feast of consumption.

This “hungry ghost” cycle lives on in me as arms grab and eyes want without my conscious intervention in a given moment. It lives in 1,000 unconscious moments eating in front of the Internet or the television set. (Have you ever noticed how easy it is to consume entire bags of stuff while just sitting there, or how commercials lead to cravings for something else?) It lives on at parties when I’m eating because I’m uncomfortable, or in any particular moment when an emotion seems too difficult to bear. It lives on in that particular anxious moment and a need for escape until life, itself, takes on the tenor of this behavior of escape.

Escape from what, exactly? And who runs? There is an opportunity in that unbearable moment to see that we are much more than our old habits. Sometimes, I don’t feel so motivated to take those opportunities. But, ultimately, in order to change compulsive behavior, I’ve found it useful to become a student of my addictive process. Motivation comes from understanding, historically, the damage caused by continuing on the path I’ve been on, taking responsibility for what I’ve done, facing those that I’ve hurt, and resolving not to make the same mistakes. By numbing myself with food, I have failed to appreciate the gift of this precious life/moment and missed seeing when I’ve hurt the dear hearts of those around me.

Hence, Kapleau viewed the fifth precept on intoxicants as a gateway to breaking the others. The precept (1) and Buddhist literature, however, speak more directly against the use of alcohol and drugs. Ordinary observation of an intoxicated person clearly demonstrates that the loosening of inhibitions due to alcohol, marijuana or other inebriant can and often does result in poor judgment, promiscuous and rude behavior (2). It’s less obvious with compulsive behaviors like those related to food, or even trashy novels, romantic infatuations/encounters, the video games, and endless other compulsive distractions (3). Yet, the long-term effects of not learning to bear difficulties without a crutch or distraction are ultimately the same. The act of continually justifying and perpetuating one’s addictive behavior can cripple one’s ability to gain emotional maturity and wisdom from the bumps and bruises that come with life. It’s the “Big Baby” syndrome as coined by the folks at AA. Those innately human and childlike voices in us that say: “That’s not fair!” “Life should be going according to my plan” and “Why me?” Emotional maturity arises when we learn to take ourselves by the hand as gently and firmly as we need and let go in the midst of all life’s turmoil. Once attention is given, the voices usually quiet down and what actually remains and what needs to be attended to is a bit clearer.

Sometimes I’ve found that willing myself out of a compulsive behavior is a bit like trying to pull out a root from the ground that just won’t come. And, setting myself up with “emotional maturity” as bait (or any other bait) is utterly inadequate. Gaining, losing, forward, backward: is one better than the other? Changing for the sake of gaining an abstract notion of emotional maturity is ultimately about getting caught up in conditions. Craving… just craving…no craving…just no craving. But, while change is natural, we do have the will to steer ourselves in a direction that is healthier for us, and perhaps, for the world. That is, if we are not too preoccupied or intoxicated to notice.

On the practical end, what does this act of “steering” look like for me? One handy tool I learned from Sevan Sensei is to insert time between a desire and the gratification of a desire. With food, I generally need to have a plan which makes it easier to be more intentional and attentive about what, when and how I am eating and when I am not eating. So that I’ll take something I’m craving and put it into a future meal or snack I’ve planned. That way, I am less likely to be mindlessly shoving something into my mouth and then later regretting it. This waiting period also is effective in taking the pressure out of going “cold turkey” on other compulsive behaviors (4). For example, I’ve found it useful to have dates with myself to watch a movie or a TV show, rather than indulging an undercurrent of escapism by flipping on the TV, pouting, and tuning out.

Second, there are no foods or compulsive behaviors that are inherently evil (heinous acts of violence too complex to discuss here). Fundamentally, there is no “disease,” no “self” and no “God” to save this ‘self’ from a ‘diseased’ compulsive behavior. However, through experience and biochemical realities, there are certain foods that are more likely to illicit a compulsive response than others for me. I found that talking to a nutritionist helped to flesh out the details of how to better work with the biochemistry of craving in my body. Meditative practice, of course, is invaluable for working with addiction. While meditating for the sole reason of ending one’s addiction is a ultimately a dead end (5), practice does help to provide deeper insight into life’s problems and cultivates innumerable practical skills for dealing with the addictive process, from equanimity and letting go to angry determination and fiery will.

In practice, I can’t expect myself to maintain perfect adherence to my own guidelines, and ultimately the Buddhist precepts too, or I become terribly guilty and defeated. During a Teisho, Sevan Sensei once said of the precepts: “First, we have to forgive others for breaking them, and also to forgive ourselves for breaking them.” To borrow again from AA, “progress, not perfection” is a laudable goal here, one I usually try to keep in mind.

And now, as the offering plate passes my way, I tear off a piece of this writing as offering, circle it three times around…. “May it fill the ten directions and satisfy hunger in realms of darkness…”
“Oh hungry ghost, oh tortured spirit, abandon greed and rouse the desire for enlightenment!” [clappers]


1. CZC’s version reads: “I resolve not to cause others to take substances that impair the mind, nor to do so myself, but to keep the mind clear.”
2. Kapleau flushes out the complexities of alcohol and enlightenment in Five Pillars, see footnote 16, pg. 344.
3. As discussed in the Fall 2007 CZC discussion group on intoxicants: Recreational drugs, addictive prescription meds, stimulants, cigarettes, alcohol; Gambling; Romance and/or Sex, Pornography; TV, Internet, video games; Reading (esp Romance novels, Thrillers); Food, Fasting/Restricting, Speeding, Shopping and Runner’s high.
4. I’m not speaking on drug/alcohol addiction in this instance that may, most likely, require professional help.
5. A book I’ve found to be helpful on this topic is: Trungpa, Chogyam. Cutting through Spiritual Materialism. 2002. Shambhala.