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Views and Spiritual Bypassing

For the last few talks, I've been discussing the role of thoughts, beliefs, and views. I've explored the impact they have on our practice, and how the Buddha emphasized direct experience rather than views. Of course, we also have Right View—or wise view—as the first step in the Noble Eightfold Path^[1]. But today, I want to explore a slightly different idea about views: how sometimes we use spiritual views, ideas, or beliefs as a way to sidestep or avoid what's going on in our lives.

We may hold onto views as a way to avoid facing our experiences or uncomfortable emotions. Sometimes, these are issues inside us that we aren't even clear about; we just have this feeling that we don't want to look at it, whatever it is. The key words here are "sidestep" and "avoid." Naturally, we need views. They are an integral part of what it means to be human and an integral part of our practice. But the issue arises when we use them to avoid looking at things that might be helpful. Not only that, we use these views to legitimize our avoidance, thinking, "Oh yeah, I don't need to look at that because of X, Y, or Z."

We might describe this as a process where we use a practice—one that is supposed to help us work with a problem—as a way to avoid it entirely. We initiate a practice hoping to find some ease, but unknowingly use it to simply sidestep, whitewash, or not look at the issue. Instead of finding a better relationship with our difficulty, we end up avoiding it.

Equanimity or Disconnection?

For example, take the Buddhist teaching on equanimity^[2]. It is held in very high esteem in Buddhist practice as the ability to have a sense of balance and evenness with whatever is arising. However, many of us might slide into indifference and call it equanimity. We might think, "Oh, this is a wise, mature way to be with it." But in fact, what has happened is that we've disconnected from our experience. We are disconnected from what we're feeling or what's happening in our environment, and that aloofness—maybe even coldness—is why we are able to maintain our balance. We think it's equanimity, but true equanimity has a quality of warmth, connection, openness, and spaciousness. That spaciousness allows things to be whatever they are while we remain connected to what's happening.

Another example is if we notice a thought in our mind—or even hear ourselves saying—something like, "Well, if that makes you uncomfortable, that's just part of your practice." It's like saying it's your problem if what I said made you uncomfortable, or if what's happening in the community isn't your preference. To be sure, sometimes that is an appropriate response. But if we always find ourselves thinking that people are getting annoyed with us because they aren't as "awake" as we are, we use our spiritual views to avoid taking responsibility. We fail to recognize how we are affecting others. We might have insensitivities, ignorance, or biases that come out in our language or behavior, and even if we don't intend to, we can be hurtful. Instead of whitewashing it by saying, "That's just your practice," can we recognize, "Oh, I harmed somebody with my words or actions"?

What is Spiritual Bypassing?

There's an expression coined by John Welwood^[3], a psychologist and Buddhist practitioner. He called this "spiritual bypassing." I would say probably everybody does this. It's part of how we find our way with practice. We try out new ideas and new ways of interacting; sometimes we get it right, and sometimes we don't. We aren't going to hear something and immediately do it perfectly every time. Sometimes we just don't feel well. We might have emotional turmoil, lack of sleep, or physical pain. In those moments, we may not have access to our greatest wisdom. Instead, we slip into bypassing because we simply lack the capacity to deal with things right now.

It can be helpful to recognize that this is not uncommon. Psychologists note that some people become very spiritual and use spiritual language as a defense mechanism to disconnect from feelings, disengage from what's happening, or shield themselves from something uncomfortable. Maybe it's an uncomfortable truth we've seen about ourselves, or the realization that our life isn't unfolding the way we expected.

Spiritual bypassing is related to our relationship with the practice—how we interpret and hold onto it. I don't want to sound like you shouldn't engage in spiritual traditions because you'll just use them to avoid difficulties. I just want to highlight that it's a natural tendency. Sometimes we use spiritual practices simply to feel better in the moment, rather than using them to find true freedom. We might mistakenly think that avoiding everything unpleasant is freedom. But true freedom involves a sense of possibility, even when things are uncomfortable or exactly what we don't want. Our intuition often acknowledges, "Okay, yes, this is the way forward."

My Own Experience

I unknowingly did a certain amount of spiritual bypassing myself. Because of my professional training, which required years of intense focus, my mind could get very settled. That habit bled into my meditation practice. I used concentration^[4] as a way to numb myself from emotional turmoil and confusion. Especially in my early retreat practice, I would get deeply concentrated and find some relief there. It wasn't all bad, but I didn't notice that I was often avoiding being truly mindful. I was getting concentrated instead, making myself less sensitive to my environment or inner life. It took me some time to recognize that I had fallen into this habit. I thought I was being mindful and following instructions, but I was actually bypassing.

I also know someone who loved doing loving-kindness (mettā)^[5] practice. They told me they did it all the time, which sounded fantastic. But when we discussed it further, it essentially boiled down to this: whenever she was angry or annoyed with someone, she would immediately say, "May you be happy, may you be healthy." It was a contrived effort to stop feeling the annoyance, frustration, or anger. She felt very spiritual doing this all day long. Loving-kindness does open our hearts and build warmth, and we do practice it with difficult people. But in this case, she was using it like a sledgehammer to make the situation, or her difficult feelings, simply go away.

Clinging to Views

Spiritual bypassing can also be deeply related to our attachment to views. We hold onto spiritual beliefs, thoughts, or practices, thinking we should hold onto them. But an integral part of Buddhist practice is actual engagement. It's about meditation, right speech, right livelihood, and ethical behavior. We practice these things; we don't just hold onto beliefs. In the Seven Factors of Awakening^[6], a key element is investigation—being engaged with what's happening and open to learning something new.

Sometimes, though, investigation and genuine practice get pushed aside, replaced by dogmatism or fundamentalism. We might find comfort in thinking, "I know the truth, I'm right, and everyone else is wrong. I don't have to bother with all that pesky, difficult meditation practice."

Of course, we all do this to varying degrees. A friend told me about a small sutta^[7] study group. The people were dedicated to practice and loved reading and discussing the texts together. One person even read Pali^[8], and they enjoyed looking at the original language. It was meaningful and fun until they came to a particular sutta that emphasized a specific teaching. One person—who happened to be a teacher dedicated to the Dharma—said, "I don't know, I'm not so sure about that. I'm not really going to emphasize that." Another person responded, "No, you have to! How can you be a Buddhist practitioner if you don't believe all of this? You're not a real Buddhist."

Because of that single rigid idea about how a practitioner must orient their life, the group ended up falling apart. There was a lot of lament because it had been such a rich and engaging experience. Instead of investigating together, someone slid into fundamentalism.

Gil Fronsdal and I talk about this a lot in the Majjhima Nikaya^[9] sutta study class we teach. The last thing we want is dogmatism. We look at the Pali words and acknowledge that they could be interpreted in multiple ways. It's often a translator's choice. We want to recognize that ambiguity. Clinging and declaring, "This is the absolute truth!" is not freedom. If you feel like you have the absolute truth and nobody else does, you have to constantly prop it up. You have to defend it and close yourself off to other people.

Uncovering Hidden Views

Often, our underlying beliefs, concepts, and notions are hidden. We don't really know we have them until we bump up against something that challenges them and makes us uncomfortable. These views may not become clear until they are threatened by a crisis. For instance, we may think we understand impermanence (anicca)^[10] until a loved one gets a terrible diagnosis. Then we realize, "Oh, I kind of had this hidden view that while lots of things are impermanent, there are some exceptions." When we say it out loud, it doesn't make any sense, but we secretly thought a certain relationship would be stable and a lasting source of happiness.

Sometimes, these deeper views aren't revealed to us until they are reflected back by teachers, friends, or even the most difficult people in our lives. Often, people are difficult for us because they highlight something we don't like about ourselves or challenge a deeply held idea.

Perhaps we have a hidden view that a "good" person must always be productive. We spend all our time trying to do things. Then, maybe we get sick, lose our employment, retire, or have to stop our usual activities to care for someone. Suddenly, we aren't productive in the way we used to be. We start to realize, "Wow, I didn't realize how much my sense of value was tied to my productivity." We forget that our inherent value is not dependent on how much we do. I know this sounds a bit like heresy, especially here in Silicon Valley where we pride ourselves on working constantly. I've gone through those phases in my life too, and I still have vestiges of that view.

Our views are also remarkably resistant to change. Even when presented with information suggesting a view doesn't make sense, it often has a deep embeddedness or inertia. We've seen this highlighted in recent years. We often get our information from highly selected sources that simply reaffirm our views, thanks to confirmation bias. We might have an underlying view that the world is inherently unsafe, leading us to always be vigilant. There might be perfectly legitimate reasons for a person to feel that way, and I don't want to diminish that. But sometimes, they overlook the data showing times when they do feel safe—like being at home with loved ones under a blanket watching TV, or petting their dog.

Because we are impacted by our earlier experiences, it's human nature to hold onto these views. We shouldn't think, "Oh, I shouldn't hold onto views; I'm going to just drop all of them." We have to honor and respect our experience. We can simply recognize, "Okay, this is a view I have. It feels integral to how I navigate the world right now and how I conceive of myself." We can bring a little openness to that, rather than firmly declaring, "Nope, this is just how it is."

Sometimes we hold onto views simply because we don't like ambiguity. We feel uncomfortable and want something reassuring to stand on. Think of the belief that the Earth is flat. For a long time, people believed that, even as sailors returned from long voyages saying otherwise. We often just want something decided so we don't have to address it again. Sometimes it's just stubbornness—we don't want to acknowledge that someone else had a better idea, or that we were influenced by others.

Holding Views on a Spectrum

Clinging to views is a form of spiritual bypassing. But again, we don't have to abandon all our views. We can think of our relationship to views as existing on a spectrum. On one extreme, we rigidly believe, "I believe this, and anyone who believes anything different is wrong, and I'm not going to change my mind."

In the middle of the spectrum, we recognize that views are helpful and supportive, but we hold them lightly. A good example is Right View. The Buddha recognized the importance of views because they influence our actions, aspirations, and priorities. He offered Right View at the beginning of the Eightfold Path. One way to understand Right View is as a simple framework: there is suffering, and there is a way to the ending of suffering. We can view our experience through this lens, asking, "Does this lead to suffering, or away from suffering?"

However, we can also hold onto Buddhist teachings in a way that becomes clinging—and clinging does not lead to greater freedom; it leads to suffering. This doesn't mean we get rid of Right View. Instead, we can look to the simile of the raft^[11]. The teachings are a raft that brings us from this shore of suffering and difficulty, across the water, to the other shore of liberation. We use the teachings to get across. But, as the Buddha taught, when you get to the other shore, you don't say, "Wow, that raft was so helpful, I'm going to carry it on my head and shoulders wherever I go, just in case." No, you put it down. We hold the teachings when they are helpful and let them go when they are not.

At the far end of the spectrum is complete freedom from attachment to views. A fully awakened person has overcome all attachments. Liberation is recognizing that things are simply arising and passing due to conditions. There is no reification of anything, no solid self in the center dictating "I like this" or "I don't like that." There is no need to grasp a view.

The Buddhist position is not that all views should be discarded, but that we should be flexible in how we use them. The movement toward freedom is about holding onto views less and less, until experience is more like a flowing of conditions coming and going.

When we use spiritual teachings to avoid what's uncomfortable, we are spiritually bypassing. We might have started meditation to find more ease, but if we just use it to avoid difficulties, we stall our progress. Clinging to views—thinking "I know the truth" and refusing to have a beginner's mind—is one way this bypassing happens.

I'll end there and see if there are any questions or comments about spiritual bypassing or clinging to views.

Q&A

Questioner: Thank you. What I was thinking about as you spoke, which overlaps with what you were talking about, is the comfort of delusion^[12]. I've been reflecting on this lately. Some delusion is really uncomfortable, and we want to get out of it quickly. But there's also a lot of comfort in delusion, which makes the motivation to resolve it tricky. When I know what my opinion is, then I know who I am, and there's comfort in that. It's more uncomfortable to abide in the uncertainty of not having a set identity, of not being so fixated or clearly formed.

When I have that feeling of "I know the truth," there is a self-righteousness that comes up. We all do this. In that moment, it feels good because there's an upsurge of energy. But there's a sense of disconnection, too. Ultimately, it's uncomfortable and divisive because I'm opposing something. But the comfort of delusion can also just be like falling asleep in a chair watching TV on a Saturday afternoon. It's very comfortable. Sometimes we need to disengage and recharge, but we convince ourselves we need it more than we do. Figuring that out is part of practice. The comfort of delusion has all these nuanced levels: clinging to a strong view, having no opinion, or just spacing out. It's an unwillingness to see clearly.

Diana Clark: I guess I wouldn't use the word "delusion," though it fits. It has a slightly pejorative flavor to my ears. But sometimes we unknowingly disengage because we don't feel we have the energy, capacity, or wherewithal to meet what's happening. So much of practice is just about increasing our capacity to be with whatever is arising. Maybe we don't have the capacity right now, but maybe we have more than we used to, and eventually, we'll be able to hold those uncomfortable experiences.

Questioner: Yes, absolutely. "Delusion" (moha) is just the classical word used for ignorance or when we aren't clear. Until we become awakened, we all have it, and sometimes we're not quite motivated to overcome it.

Diana Clark: Well, you probably wouldn't be here if there wasn't a part of you that was motivated! [Laughter] Thank you all for your practice and for being here. Wishing you a good rest of the evening.