The Karma of Phil Stutz
“When does the work stop? I can’t see any end to it. When can you enjoy yourself with worldly pleasures, free from bother?”
“The work doesn’t stop and you won’t see any end to it. While the work was still unfinished, our fathers and grandfathers have all died.”
This conversation, recorded in the Pali canon, occurs between two brothers of the Sakyan clan in ancient India. They are trying to figure out who between them would leave lay life and ordain in the new monastic order instituted by their cousin, the Buddha.
Mahānāma, the older brother, is managing the family’s farming business. Anuruddha is the forever baby of the family, pampered and coddled, and now in his adulthood, lavished with sensual pleasures of all kinds.
Mahānāma sees other men of Sakyan aristocracy joining the monastic order of the Buddha, and decides someone from their own family should follow course. Anuruddha isn’t convinced. He thinks that the ascetic life of a monk is too difficult for him: “I’ve been brought up in great comfort. I’m not able to go forth. You go forth.”
Mahānāma is open to that proposition, so he invites Anuruddha:
“Come, then, let me teach you how to run the family business.
First you must plow the fields,
then sow the seeds,
irrigate,
and drain,
and then weed.Next you must cut the harvest,
gather it together,
and make sheaves.You must then thresh it,
remove the straw and husk,
and then winnow it before you bring it into storage.And next year you must do the same,
and the next.”
When Mahānāma confirms that there’s no end to this work, Anuruddha finds the idea of relinquishing the life of a householder more appealing.
(Later, Anuruddha does join the monastic order, and eventually becomes one of the great, awakened disciples of the Buddha—but that’s a story for another time).
I was reminded of this story when I re-watched Stutz on Netflix.
One of the things you realize in this journey—or any journey of learning for that matter—is that it can take time for things to dawn on you, even though you have heard them being uttered time and again. The idea of karma as work, and karma being constant and relentless, is one such seemingly simple idea that stood out on my recent revisit to Stutz’s world.
Stutz, as you might know already, is Jonah Hill’s attempt at promoting the ideas and tools of his therapist, Phil Stutz. It’s well worth a watch, and Netflix also has an outline of the main tools. There’s also a new book by Stutz published in 2023 that offers an updated, detailed portrayal of his ideas.
My focus here is what Stutz refers to as “aspects of reality”: pain, uncertainty, and constant work. According to Stutz, nobody gets to avoid them: “those are things you just have to deal with, no matter what.”
A Buddhist would see an immediate connection between the first two aspects of Stutz, and two of the three characteristics of existence expounded by the Buddha: impermanence (anicca) and suffering (dukkha)—the other characteristic being non-self (anatta).
But what struck me the most in this instance was the notion of constant work. I remember the very moment, as I was walking down a canal street in Amsterdam, when it dawned on me that Stutz was (most likely inadvertently) talking about karma.
In colloquial use, ‘karma’ (Pali: kamma) seems to be mixed up with the idea of consequences, the results of our past actions. One’s karmic account is supposed to accumulate wealth based on their good actions, which then supposedly gets ‘spent’ on pleasant outcomes and joyful happenstances.
However, in its original sense in Buddhism, karma simply refers to action. Karma means work.
In fact, when Mahānāma and Anuruddha talk about the end of work, the Pali word they use is kamma. There are, of course, consequences to actions too, but these are called kamma-vipāka in Pali.
Phil Stutz is reminding us of a perennial truth that Mahānāma pointed out to Anuruddha: there is no end to work. It is what life entails. Work, like impermanence and suffering according to the Buddha, and uncertainty and pain according to Stutz, is inherent to existence. The sooner we come to be at peace with that idea, the easier it is for us to look into other, more important matters—such as, the kind of work we do engage in.
Constant work—the cycle of karma, if you will—does not appear as a burden until it begins to take the form of adversity. Happy moments don’t usually inspire introspection and reflection in us: we are more likely to be lost in the moment when it is infused with happiness.
Difficult and sad moments, on the other hand, tend to hold a mirror in front of us, even while causing us pain. They force us to question what is going on. Why? And especially, why me? Therein lies the opportunity for insight.
The idea of constant work is bound up with what Stutz refers to as the “philosophy of events” in his book ‘Lessons for Living’, which he describes in four points:
- Adverse events are supposed to happen.
- Their existence doesn’t mean there is something wrong with you.
- There is always an opportunity in a negative event.
- Developing spiritual skills is more important than getting a good result.
This philosophy, and particularly the last point of seeing the spiritual dimension of events, can be of immense help as we navigate life—which is, in effect, nothing but a series of events connected by our subjectivity (i.e., my life is the series of events occuring in my presence).
Each event demands its own work from us, and as long as there are events, there will be work. When we see this work connected with a higher meaning, the pain tends to become more bearable. Our yearning then will not be towards the end of work, which is a futile pursuit, but for making that work—whatever it may be—meaningful.