BTS: Dukkha in Disguise
Buddhism Through Service is a continuing series dedicated to understanding Buddhism through cultural immersion, historical context, and lived experience. Written by Hana Walsh, the series may also feature guest contributors offering additional perspectives.
Hana Walsh, 137 YinD
Do not dwell in the past, do not dream of the future,
concentrate the mind on the present moment.
-Buddha*
Dukkha:
A central Buddhist concept often translated as “suffering,” “unsatisfactoriness,” or “discontentment,” referring to the fundamental instability of life and the mind’s inability to find lasting satisfaction in things that are always changing.
With a definition like that, where do you even begin?
It sounds dense, abstract, almost too philosophical to have anything to do with ordinary life. And the word “suffering” feels too dramatic– we tend to reserve that word for grief, illness, or tragedy– but according to Buddhism, dukkha is not some distant spiritual concept: it is the texture of everyday human existence. Imagine an average person narrating their day:
“I have a great life with plenty of happy moments! Just the other day I got coffee with a friend, then I saw this cute dog that reminded me of my childhood dog. My Amazon package arrived, and I finally got my hands on the Apple AirPods Max. And even when I’m not having the best day, I can just change my mindset, think about all the things I’m grateful for, and then I feel better.”
Most people would describe the mindset above as healthy. We appreciate what is good, and when life becomes uncomfortable, we redirect our thoughts toward something more positive. In many contexts, that is considered resilience.
But Buddhism rolls its eyes. All it hears is, attachment, attachment, attachment!Attachment to a pleasant interaction, nostalgia, material possessions, and thoughts that create emotional relief. The concept of attachments– and, more importantly, the practice of letting them go– sits at the heart of Buddhist philosophy.
As I began studying Buddhism, I knew I had attachments to confront. I think most people would agree that depending on external things for happiness is precarious. However, Buddhism extends the definition of attachment far beyond the obvious.
Attachment
Material attachment is the easiest to recognize. Most of us understand that happiness cannot depend on a new car, a better apartment, or an expensive purchase. The satisfaction they provide is temporary, and, before long, the mind begins looking for the next source of stimulation. We understand this attachment exists in our lives because we can see and feel it– but what’s more difficult to recognize is that attachment extends to immaterial things as well, such as memories.
We all have memories of rejection or hurt that seem to surface involuntarily. Maybe it is the embarrassing thing we said in an important meeting, or the cruel comment from a high school bully that still lingers years later. The moment that memory begins shaping your emotions and behavior in the present, it becomes an attachment (Silarantano & Pannavaddho, 2025). The same process can happen with positive memories. Imagine feeling lonely at a new job, and your mind drifts back to a pleasant afternoon spent laughing with friends. You revisit it to recreate some of the comfort of the original experience, hoping to soften the negative emotions of the present. The event itself is harmless, but the clinging to it is what concerns Buddhism.
However, the form of attachment I found most confronting was this one: attachment to thought. Similar to memory attachments, many people want to break their attachment to negative thoughts that tell them they are not good or worthy enough, but far less discussed is the fact that we can become just as attached to positive thoughts (Kadampa, 2017). Return to the final line of our fictional optimist: “Even when I’m not having the best day, I can just change my mindset, think about all the things I’m grateful for, and then I feel better.”
This is a philosophy I have lived by for years! Through meditation and therapy, I’ve trained myself to find a positive angle in almost any situation, and I believed this was evidence of emotional discipline. But from the point of view of dukkha, manipulating your thoughts to reshape your perspective of outward reality can still be another form of chasing comfort. Even if you are no longer attaching yourself to a person, a place, or a material thing, you are still attaching yourself to something that makes the present moment easier to bear.
This is what has become increasingly visible to me in Thailand. It was more or less easy to let go of the first two attachments– things and people, but I had no idea how attached I was to memories and thoughts. For instance, when I’m frustrated by some inconvenience or adjustment to living here, my mind drifts back to California. I think about air conditioning, hot showers, and familiar grocery stores. Or when I miss my family and friends, I move in the opposite direction. I begin daydreaming about future scenes like airport reunions, holidays, vacations…
In both cases, the mechanism is the same. I’m leaving the present in search of something more emotionally manageable. It’s forced me to confront how rarely I allow a moment, especially an uncomfortable one, to simply stand on its own. Perhaps that is where dukkha lives most clearly: not simply in pain itself, but in our persistent refusal to remain with pain without reaching for relief.
So I leave the question where Buddhism leaves it: where in your own life do you see dukkha? What do you repeatedly reach for to make the present moment easier to bear? And what would remain if, even briefly, you stopped reaching?
*The opening quote is not considered a reliable canonical quote. Buddhist scholars frequently note it as a loose paraphrase.Works CitedKadampa, L. (2017, December 31). Dealing with negative thoughts and emotions. Buddhism in Daily Life. https://kadampalife.org/2012/04/30/dealing-with-negative-emotions/Silaratano, D., & Pannavaddho. (2025, August 11). The delusion of memory. Tricycle. https://tricycle.org/article/the-delusion-of-memory/