While there are many teachings in Buddhism, at the heart and center of the cause of suffering is our belief in the substantial-bility of myself. That the ego, the “I, me, mine” is a real thing. And once we belief that, and we identify with the self then our whole life is about advancing, protecting the self. Meeting the needs of the self, fulfilling desires of the self. Always trying to keep away from the self all the things it doesn’t want. That kind of life keeps us so busy. The self keeps us so busy. And not only is it just a chronic busyness, but it’s a chronic emotionality sometimes mild, sometimes quite intense, but it is always there. And so in the world of self, there is never really any ease; never any peace. And certainly there always is a sense of disconnection and separation from ourselves, our deeper selves, our true self, and others, life, nature, and the world. 

So many people are always struggling or fighting a rear guard action against their afflictive mind states. But they never really have the time or the energy to really cultivate wholesomeness. Which is really what the practice is about. It’s not about struggling with the self or the ego or thinking “I have such a big ego, I have to struggle with it and fight it, keep it tamed and under control.” But you don’t have to do any of that. When the self arises all we need to do is look at it. We look at it deeply so we understand it. We see that it’s not that way at all. It’s really empty.

Empty of what? Empty of stability, solidity. It cannot be found in any solid real way; the way we identify a thing. Once you know that, it’s the same way that you know that even though you are in a dream you can awaken from that dream at any time because you know the dream, even though there is a story going on, it is insubstantial. In a certain way, we can wake up from a dream at any time. And even when we get caught up in the dream as soon as we wake up we can immediately lose the affect of that dream. Why? Because we know it’s just a dream. And really that is all we are experiencing all day if we are lost in the drama of self. We are endlessly just experiencing this dream like experience of thinking that what is happening to self is real. And that all the feelings and thoughts connected to the self are real; and therefore are important. And therefore need to be acted on; and reacted to; and therefore the drama of self continues. 

So the practice, is by studying the self; not by fighting, not by struggling, not by denying, not by ignoring. But looking right at it. Taking it apart. When you see it is just made up of parts that is made up of parts. And all these parts have no substance at all. At that point the letting go is so much easier and it’s not based on a concept, it’s based on an experience where you see that which appeared to be solid and real is not.

The Self Verses Reality

“The major cause of our emotional suffering is that the self is always at war with reality.”

As we investigate and learn about this pernicious self we may begin to notice it is in the relationship between self and reality that many of our emotional difficulties arise. Not necessarily all of life’s problems, but certainly the emotional ones.

So, what is reality? There are many ways to answer that question. To start, let’s consider what we might call consensual reality. This isn’t anything particularly profound—just the everyday reality that most people, assuming their senses and minds are intact, would agree on.

We need to understand that consensual reality exists, and it operates according to certain principles. If we don’t understand these principles, we will suffer. If we believe that things are solid, permanent, and the source of happiness—and if we think we can hold onto them—we will suffer endlessly. If you look at all the suffering in your life, past and present, you’ll likely see it’s rooted in this misunderstanding. And not only do we misunderstand reality, we are often at war with it.

What does that mean? Reality is simply what is. Yet within our own minds, we rebel against it. We reject it. We fight it. Because in our minds, we think reality should be different than it is—right? But regardless of what we think, reality remains reality. That’s why it’s called reality. We often miss that. Our thoughts about reality are not real—they’re just thoughts, opinions, and ideas.

Whether this war with reality is personal or global, it's the same war. We are fighting what is. Everyone had the childhood they had. Everyone had the parents they had. Everyone had the experiences they had. That’s what happened. That’s reality.

Let’s bring it into the present: everything that is happening in your life right now is happening. You live where you live. You drive the car you drive—or don’t. You have the friends you have. You work where you work. Your kids are your kids. Your parents are your parents. That’s the reality of this moment.

Some people say, “I like this reality.” Others say, “I don’t like this reality.” But that’s just projection. That’s not reality itself—it’s our judgment about reality. Some people think they deserved the childhood they had. Others think they didn’t. But whether we liked it or not, whether we wanted it or not, it happened. That’s what was real.

We can be at war with that. We can fight it. We can deny it. We can cling to it. We can feel sad, angry, or fearful about it. But all of that is coming from us. The reality is: what happened, happened. What is happening, is happening. It sounds so simple, but it's incredibly significant.

Think about every emotional issue you’re dealing with right now. Just consider that. Your parents were your parents. Your life unfolded the way it did. These are the facts. And this is true for everyone.

Why do we have the problems we have in this world? Causes and conditions. If we understand those causes and conditions, we can understand what’s going on. But we still have to accept that reality is reality. Take a moment and reflect. Ask yourself: is this true?

Why do we have relationship problems? Has anyone here not had a relationship problem? Think about why. It’s usually because the person we’re in relationship with is not who we want them to be. But reality is: they are who they are. That’s it.

So when we try to change people, control them, or manipulate the world to conform to our desires—is that a source of happiness for you? And what about when someone tries to do that to you? Do you enjoy it? No. And yet we keep doing it. We obsess about our childhoods, as if in some alternate universe everything should’ve been perfect. Perfect parents. Perfect upbringing. But reality is: it was what it was.

The more we object to reality, the more we suffer. And when we suffer, we act out. We don’t just carry our suffering—we impose it on others. Is that true? Many of us believe we’re victims—victims of life, of our situations, of other people, of our childhoods. So we’re constantly fighting, manipulating, trying to control. We say, “Life’s unfair.”

When we are children, we learn a new mantra: “It’s not fair.” We don’t always get our way, and we’re not happy about it. You’d hope that as adults, we’d grow out of that. But many of us are still operating from the same mindset. When things don’t go our way, when people don’t treat us the way we want to be treated, we suffer.

But we’re not suffering from reality. We’re suffering because of our ideas about reality—our expectations, our demands, our illusions.

What if you lived a life without expectations about how reality should be? What if you stopped expecting people to be a certain way? What would that be like? Probably frightening, for most of us. Unimaginable, even.

But what if, instead, we just showed up every day and dealt with what is? That’s our real challenge: how do I deal with reality—people as they are, the world as it is? Most of the time, we don’t even get that far, because we’re too busy being angry, hurt, resentful, scared, sad, or jealous.

Why are we jealous? Why are we envious? Because we don’t understand. We see someone else’s life and think, “Why them? Why not me?” But in reality, they are who they are, and you are who you are. Their life is unfolding in its way. Yours is unfolding in yours. That’s the truth.

And yet, this deluded mind of ours keeps projecting onto the world how we think it should be.

The Source of Our Suffering

This is the source of our suffering—and the world’s suffering. Right now, our country is suffering. Why? Because people with one political belief can't accept that there are others with different political beliefs.

It’s the same with racial issues, gender issues, sexual preference, religion—you name it. At the root, it’s about the inability to accept the reality that there are people in this world who are not like us. Isn’t that really what it comes down to?

We believe everyone should be like us. Shall we dare to say it? Here’s the truth: in our own little empires that each of us runs, our expectation is that the world should be just like me. Everyone and everything should operate according to my values, my ideas.

And that expectation extends from the tiniest things to the biggest. But what’s the reality of this world and the people in it?

We didn’t create this world. It’s not our creation. It’s the composite result of millions—billions—of people, histories, causes, and conditions.

How are we ever going to deal with the issues we face if we can’t even agree on reality? If human beings can't accept reality—and the fact that we are all in this reality together?

That’s kind of a revolutionary thought: we’re all in this together. This is a shared reality. And it demands an intelligent, wise, compassionate response. But we’ll never get there as long as people aren't dealing with reality. Or are only dealing with reality through the lens of their thoughts and projections.

The Kleshas

In Buddhism, we call those projections kleshas. Kleshas are mental and emotional afflictions. They are coverings that obscure our natural wisdom, intelligence, and objectivity.

Just because someone holds a certain political view doesn’t mean they aren’t just as covered by kleshas as someone with the opposite view. That’s part of why we see such a mess—not just in the world, but in people’s personal lives. We struggle to accept reality as it is.

Take something as simple as driving. People often get angry because others aren’t driving the way they think people should drive. But the reality is—those people are driving that way. Still, in our minds, we think, “In my reality, no one should drive like that—at least not without getting a little anger from me!”

In Buddhism, anger is considered an afflictive emotion. It doesn’t feel good. We suffer when people don’t treat us the way we think they should, when they don’t say what we think they should say—or say things we believe they shouldn’t. Sound familiar? That’s the ongoing drama of our lives. That’s what occupies our minds all day.

The Buddha called this suffering. Most of us just call it “normal.” But it’s not. It’s become normalized in our society, but that doesn’t make it natural. If we want emotionally meaningful and stable lives, we have to start by accepting reality as it is.

Does that mean we have to accept everything the way it is—people, situations, the world? Yes. But that doesn’t mean we’re passive or can’t change things. It means we begin with what’s real: “This is what’s happening. This is the world. This is the other person. This is me.” Starting from reality gives us a clear foundation for meaningful action.

Many people struggle to accept even themselves. Sometimes we get angry at ourselves for not being the person we think we should be. So we become angry at ourselves for failing to live up to an idealized version of who we imagine we ought to be. But in reality, this is who we are right now.

Wouldn’t it be wiser to accept ourselves as we are and begin our journey of transformation from there—from reality? Most people begin from fantasy, chasing an ideal self-image. They forget that who they are is the product of all the causes and conditions that have shaped them. Add it all up, and you get you, right now. That doesn’t mean you can’t grow or change—but you have to begin in reality.

Maybe none of us are the person we think we should be. Maybe none of us have the life we think we deserve. But here we are. This is your life. The causes and conditions have brought you to this moment. That’s not a moral judgment—good or bad, right or wrong, fair or unfair. It’s just reality.

And that’s what unites all of us: we are all where we are in life because of causes and conditions. Is that true? We have to look closely at the beliefs we hold. Some of them are, frankly, kind of… crazy.

Yes, we’ve got real problems in this world. It’s not the world many of us would like. But it is the way it is. So, how do we want to approach it? With openness, wisdom, and compassion? Or with anger, judgment, and blame?

People hate each other over differences in belief. “You don’t believe what I believe? I hate you.” And we feel justified in that hate. But then someone on the opposite side feels the same toward us. And now what do we have?

What kind of world are we creating—where everyone who disagrees hates each other, doesn’t talk to each other, and disrespects one another? That pattern plays out everywhere: in one-on-one relationships, between parents and children, coworkers, communities, and nations. It’s all the same.

Ending the War: Finding Freedom Through Acceptance

To review, people often find themselves at odds with reality, waging an internal war rooted in the belief that life should conform to our desires, preferences, or judgments. This subtle, yet persistent resistance generates much of the emotional suffering we experience. We become caught in a loop of dissatisfaction not because of what happens, but because of our mental commentary—our expectations, demands, and the relentless narratives we create about how things “should” be.

At the heart of our suffering is a misunderstanding of reality. We cling to the belief that things should be permanent, that people should behave according to our standards, or that we ought to be able to control every outcome. Yet reality itself is neutral. Events unfold. People are as they are. The past, however painful or joyous, is unchangeable. The more we resist this basic truth, the more we suffer.

Negative emotions like anger, fear, sadness, jealousy, and blame often arise not from what is, but from our refusal to accept what is. This resistance to the natural flow of life hardens us and obscures our innate clarity. We tighten around our pain, convinced that if only circumstances were different, we would be at peace. But the paradox is this: peace does not come from altering reality; it comes from aligning with it.

The teachings of the Buddha offer a profound yet simple insight to look deeply into life as it is. The Buddha’s great gift was not a promise to change the world, but an invitation to see it clearly. By observing life without distortion, he discovered a path to freedom and wholeness. He showed us that even in the midst of chaos, uncertainty, and pain, we can become fully human. We can realize the vast potential of the human mind and heart not by escaping life, but by entering it fully with awareness and compassion.

This is the essence of practice: to flow with life rather than fight against it. When we meet challenges with openness instead of resistance, we begin to cultivate wisdom, resilience, and inner ease. Life is always changing. This is inevitable. But within us is a steady light, a still point that remains unshaken when we trust in our deeper intention, in our true heart.

Freedom is not a distant goal; it is always available to us in this very moment, hidden behind the veil of our resistance. The path begins when we stop arguing with reality and begin to listen to it. In that listening, we find peace.