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Buddhism is Not Therapy

Buddhism has been the keystone of my life for nearly a decade.  It's like the glue that holds everything together; helping me cope with the suffering of daily life and also giving me refuge when that suffering becomes too much to bear. 

The world may be cold and hostile at times, but it's comforting to know that my altar and my cushion will always be there when I get home.

But the relationship hasn't always been perfect.  There have been times where I questioned the feasibility of my chosen path.  For example, I remember visiting a Buddhist temple several years ago where the teacher gave a talk on how the proper understanding of karma can cure cancer.  

The gist of the talk was that disease happens as a result of negative karma we've accumulated from past lives.  So, if we cleanse our negative karma through meditation, offerings, and the dedication of merit, we can remove the karmic causes of cancer; making it disappear.

This gave me pause.  It reminded me of the faith healers who visited my church every summer when I was a child; proclaiming that disease was caused by disobedience to God and demonic influences.   The only thing required for healing was the laying on of hands in front of the congregation and the admission of whatever sin was keeping us from God's good graces.  

This type of thinking isn't uncommon in the religious community.  In fact, CNN wrote an article in 2018 detailing various religious doctrines that forbid congregants from seeking medical treatment in certain circumstances.  

For example, Jehovah's Witness' are instructed to not accept blood transfusions and evangelical Christian minister, Gloria Copeland told listeners that, "Jesus himself was protection from the Flu."

After the talk, I approached the teacher with my concerns, and she hedged by stating that we should cleanse our negative karma in conjunction with a treatment plan provided by our doctor.  

I wish she'd said that during the talk, but we rarely get everything we want in life.  And practicing Buddhism in conjunction with a treatment plan from a doctor seemed like a good, common-sense approach.  So, I left the conversation there.  But I never went back to that temple.

I thought about this experience recently when I made the following post on my Facebook page:





I made this post because I'm on the cusp of earning a graduate certificate in pastoral counseling.  And part of the training focused on the fact that while faith leaders can and should assist congregants who are struggling, religious training doesn't make us mental health professionals.

And there are a host of legal and ethical reasons why we must recognize when we're out of our depth; directing members to other forms of care.

This is especially true in the Buddhist-context where many of our practices like extended periods of silence, isolation, being struck with the kyosaku, etc. can be triggering to people who have suffered abuse or have mental illnesses.

There is nothing in Buddhist scripture that tells us how to help someone who is having a Schizophrenic episode or suffering from OCD (obessesive compulsive disorder), and I'm not ashamed to admit that there are other people in other fields that are more qualified to help in those situations.

However, if we take the "Buddhism fixes everything" approach that some people were advocating for in the comments of my post, the results can be disastrous.   In fact, there are entire websites devoted to anecdotes about people who went to retreat centers when they should have gone to therapy, and how they suffered as a result.

Does this mean that there's no connection between Buddhism and mental health?  No, Buddhist practice can be therapeutic.  Case in point, my mind is clearer and calmer due to my daily practice of chanting and meditation.  And teachers like Tara Brach and Jack Kornfield have done a terrific job of exploring the intersection between western psychology and Buddhism.

It's not an either-or proposition.  Rather, the discussion of Buddhist practice and western psychology is best done in the context of and-also.

For people who suffer from mental illness, practicing Buddhism in conjunction with a treatment plan provided by a mental health professional seems like a good, common-sense approach.  I wish more people in the Buddhist community felt that way.  But we rarely get everything we want in life.


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Buddhism is not Therapy

Comments

  1. Thank you for this. As someone who has been meditating since 1974 and a practicing Buddhist since 2002, I have found that the most "therapeutic" thing about my practice as my age advances and my health deteriorates, that "there is pain" opposes "I have pain." As the ego is suppressed, so can we be more objective about the vicissitudes the Buddha warned us of - old age, sickness, and death. Even so, with a healthy practice, none of it need equate to suffering. It's only pain. There is a tee-shirt popular among Marines that says "pain is only fear leaving the body." I find that a very Buddhist way to look at things. I believe that that kind of mental strength and objectivity helps us to achieve the kind of "separation" between the sufferer and the things, including mental illness, with which we may be plagued. Ultimately we suffer alone, and that is so much easier when you're sane enough to dispel delusion.

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