In Or Out
Part Two
As I thought more about this compulsive, complex notion of “in or out” in relation to the Buddhist path, my mind landed on this question: even though the Buddha walked the dusty plains of India some 2,600 years ago, weren’t the multitude of people he taught–ascetic renunciates, lay people, farmers, craftsmen, royalty, Brahmins and more–in a way, deep down, just like me and my jet-age, 20th century concerns? Like those beings who were born so long ago, I did not “ask” to be born–I somehow just showed up. And like them, I had been given no roadmap to help me more deeply understand my worldly experiences. Intense debates regarding the meaning of life raged in those long-ago days, much like the spiritual divides of our current age.
What then are the underlying, primal needs common to myself and those ancient seekers? One of them, I’ve come to believe, is that we humans have a deep need for “conceptual certainty.” We desire simple and stable conceptual categories to hold on to in order to make sense of our complicated, and often emotionally-charged world. The very idea that there can be some kind of certainty is then perceived to be an antidote to, or at least some kind of temporary toe hold against, the mystery of it all, a panacea that will reduce anxiety and create a sense of “I’m in control here.”
If we fabricate an apparent world view that seemingly protects us from uncertainty and contradiction, we help define (or redefine) who we think we are. We then solidify a sense of “self” that is attached to those views, and it is often the case that we instinctively dismiss or demonize alternative views rather than integrate them because they undermine our carefully built-up sense of self. This creates the binary thinking of “us and them,” of which “In or out” is just another manifestation. Then to further reinforce the notion of being in control, we seek out like-minded people and groups. We find solace in this group cohesion, a sense of belonging that further validates and reconfirms our beliefs, including a sense of “a self.”
When this dynamic is related to religious or spiritual endeavors, it usually involves pre-existing institutions or spiritual communities that we join, which have their own set of beliefs we are willing to take on. Institutional authority and orthodoxy, whatever the group, creates power structures and hierarchies around those beliefs to ensure conformity and to perpetuate the organization. These are often communicated through “the sacred (us) versus the profane (not us)”/”the pure (us) versus the impure (not us)” messaging, and reinforced by some combination of myths, prophecy and narratives about charismatic leaders.
I would like to stress, however, that in my opinion, all of the above is not necessarily bad… faith and belief systems can even be a healthy and necessary thing at different points on the path. It could, in fact, be counterproductive to prematurely drop a deeply held belief before one is psychologically and emotionally ready to do so. Letting go is important, but it has to be done lovingly and with great care. To learn more about this I suggest reading my friend Jonathan Crowley’s excellent Substack essay, My Experience with Fundamentalism in the Buddha Dhamma.
I’d like to highlight some words from the Buddha on this topic. I will draw from the chapter titled the “Octads” in the Sutta Nipata, a collection of suttas found in the Minor Discourses. It is reputed to be some of the earliest material in the Pali Canon, so we can have more faith that they may be the actual words of the historical Buddha. These short and pithy suttas are usually based around a conversation between the Buddha and a renunciate (muni), or Brahmins, or sometimes an unspecified audience. What I found fascinating in these suttas is the clear, concise and uncompromising advice the Buddha gives regarding views, as well as quarrels and disputes, which often result from binary, fundamentalist views–like “in or out.”
I’d like to start with the Octad, “On The Hostile” (Dutthattahka Sutta). In this sutta, the Buddha addresses practitioners who are attached to views, and hostile towards others’ opinions:
Some speak with hostile minds, while some speak with minds bent on truth.
The muni does not become involved in an arisen dispute; therefore the muni has
no barrenness anywhere.
How could one transcend one’s own view if, drawn by desire, one is entrenched in
a preference? Taking ones [view] to be perfect, one would speak as one
understands.
When a person, without being asked, proclaims to others his own good behaviour
and observances, the skilled say he is one of ignoble nature, since on his own
accord he proclaims himself.
But when a peaceful bhikkhu, one inwardly quenched, does not boast of his good
behavior by saying, “I am thus,” the skilled say he is one of noble nature who
has no swellings anywhere in the world.
One who has formulated impure teachings, put them together and advanced
them, becomes attached to the benefit he sees for himself, to that peace
dependent on the unstable.
Attachment to views are not easily overcome, having decided among teachings
one tightly grasps [a view].
One who is cleansed formulates no view anywhere in the world about various
states of existence. Having abandoned hypocrisy and conceit, through what
would be cleansed one go [astray] when he is uninvolved.
One who is embroiled in disputes about teachings; but how, about what, could
one dispute with the uninvolved?
Nothing is taken up or rejected by him; he has shaken off all views right here.
And from a short section of The Octad “On The Pure” (Suddhatthaka Sutta):
They do not construct, they have no preferences, they do not assert. “[This is]
ultimate purity.” Having loosened the knot of grasping that has been tied, they do
not form desires for anything in the world.
Lastly, from The Octad, “Of The Supreme” (Paramatthaka Sutta):
Nor should one construct any view in the world by means of knowledge or good
behaviour and observances. One should not take oneself to be “equal” or think of
oneself as “inferior” or “superior”.
Having abandoned what is taken up, not clinging, one does not create a dependence
even on knowledge. Not taking sides among those who are divided, one does not
fall back on any view at all.
For one who has no wish here for either end, for various states of existence here or
beyond, there are no places of residence at all grasped after deciding among
teachings.
When I first read these verses, it was during the time I had begun questioning the bounds of what I had at one point willingly and enthusiastically signed up for. I was deeply moved by how they cut to the essence of the problem I was struggling with. In each of these verses, and from different angles, the Buddha is essentially pointing to the danger of clinging to views, sometimes referred to as “the thicket of views.” He says that this leads to hostility, disputes and divisions, it is the clinging to views that is problematic which leads to right versus wrong, pure versus impure and resulting in polarized in-or-out behavior. Of course, we all have views simply by virtue of the fact that we are human. Being conscious means having views. But it is not all bad, either: we need views to help skilfully discern and navigate our Dhamma journey. In fact, Right View is the forerunner to the entire Eight Fold Path; it is the guiding principle for us to determine whether our actions are wholesome or unwholesome, and lead to more or less suffering for ourselves and others.
In thinking about what the Buddha may have meant in a teaching, or in trying to disentangle a challenging concept, one approach I personally find very helpful is stilling the mind, and then gently entertaining a simple question for reflection. This helps me move beyond just accepting an “authority’s” views and to take ownership of that insight as it develops. Once this reflective process has evolved and becomes deeply integrated into one’s practice, it leads to just “knowing.”
On a recent retreat at the Forest Refuge in Barre, Massachusetts, amid the calm I was developing, suddenly my mind would self-righteously babble something like, “The way I had been taught and understood the practice before was wrong!” Fortunately there was sufficient mindfulness developed to catch these thoughts and let them go. But as this pattern continued, I questioned whether just “letting them go” was really helping. I realized that while my practice had broadened considerably over the years, there must be some reason that my comparing mind was still compulsively grasping at the past. Finally, while walking one day, I responded by gently reflecting on this question: “What is driving my judging and comparing mind?”
.
I let the question sit until an answer was ready. And at some point later in the day, the Pali word “mana” came into my mind. Its root (man-) means “measure and compare,” and the word mana means “conceit.” In the Buddhist sense, “conceit” implies both superiority and inferiority–it’s the act of compulsive comparing that of course we do all the time. We make judgments about who we think we are, or should be, and compare ourselves with others and also against societal norms. I realized that because of mana, my mind was primed to compare–if not about my past practice, then it would be about something else, and something else again. When I’d thought this through, the push-pull I was previously struggling with gave way to a softened mind and heart, which in turn gave rise to joy (piti) at the satisfaction of insight into this underlying human condition. The Buddha taught that “conceit” is the very last fetter to drop away before final nibbana… so it’s likely to be around for a long time!
In the sutta simply named “Quickly” (Tuvataka Sutta), which is also found in the Sutta Nipatta, the Buddha says to an ascetic:
By reflection, he should stop [the conceit] “I am,” the entire root of concepts due to
Proliferation,” (verse 916)
Whatever cravings there may be internally, he should always train mindfully for their
Removal… (verse 917)
… [O]ne should not think oneself better, nor should one consider oneself inferior or
equal. Being affected in various ways, one should not persist in positioning
oneself…. (verse 918)
So it comes down to mana, conceit. Whether it’s Protestants versus Catholics, or whether I have to be “in or out” of the Goenka tradition, or any of the past or current global conflicts, or a multitude of other things, the human need to build up a world around a self, and to sharpen one’s self-view juxtaposed against others, is the cause of our compulsion towards binary thinking.
And speaking of self, which is at the root of it all, I find it of great interest that at times, the Buddha refused to state categorically whether there is a self or not a self. Yet at the same time, he was unambiguous when he repeatedly proclaimed that all phenomena–of which the self is one example–are actually anattā, or not-self. They arise dependent on causes and conditions, and as such, they are “empty” (suñña); that is, they lack inherent existence. The six sense doors and their respective objects are empty in this sense, as are form (body), feeling, perception, volitional activities, consciousness… all are without core or substance.
So to close, I’d like to turn once again to the Sutta Nipata, to The Chapter on the Way to the Beyond, where there is a very short sutta called “The Questions of Mogharaja.” It stresses this foundational notion of emptiness. The conversation goes like this:
Thus I have come in need of a question to the one of excellent vision.
How does one look upon the world, so the King of Death does not see one?
(verse 1118)
Look upon the world as empty Mogharaja, being ever mindful. Having uprooted the
view of self, one may thus cross over death. The King of Death does not see one
who looks upon the world thus.... (verse 1119)
With this clear teaching from the Buddha in mind, I think back to Cape Reianga on that slim northern tip of Aotearoa, with its pristine lighthouse and chaotic, colliding waters. And I think about that pohutukawa tree with its crimson flowers and magical Maori myths. In spite of the compelling nature of all that wonder–whether beautiful, wild or fascinating–each is ultimately empty, like all else in the world. Even getting a glimpse of this insight lays a foundation for us to truly see the futility and folly of all divisions…including the division of “in or out.”

Hi Bruce, Thank you for sharing your journey. I recently had a head-on collision with harmful guruism in a Vipassana Centre (I live near Dhamma Medini, we met briefly when you looked for Tim) and I started thinking it's time for old students to start an egalitarian organization, free of the assistant teachers power structure. All the best, Julia
Agreed! I'm soaking it all in and it's feeding my spirit. The human condition and the spiritual quest can both be observed through the lens of nonduality. We are lucky to have each other on this journey, walking alongside each other. Your writings validate my perceptions and conclusiones, and I am forever grateful. 🙏🏼