In Taiwan, Buddhism often faces two major stereotypes. First, that it is "pessimistic" because it constantly talks about suffering. Second, that it is "selfish" because practitioners—especially those who ordain—seem to only care about their own peace while leaving their families behind. Today, I want to clear the air. Addressing the reality of pain isn't pessimism; it is the highest form of realism.
Critics often focus only on the first word the Buddha spoke: Suffering. They point to the list of universal pains—birth, aging, sickness, death, being separated from those we love, being stuck with those we dislike, and the very relatable suffering of not getting what we want—and label it "gloomy."
But ignoring these truths is like an ostrich sticking its head in the sand. These struggles exist whether we talk about them or not. The Buddha’s genius wasn't just in identifying the problem; he provided a complete "medical plan" for the human condition through the Four Noble Truths:
The Truth of Suffering: Acknowledging the symptoms of our dissatisfaction.
The Truth of the Origin: Identifying the cause—our craving and mental defilements.
The Truth of the Cessation: Realizing that when craving ends, suffering ends.
The Truth of the Way: The systematic training, such as the 37 Factors of Enlightenment, that leads to total peace.
Calling Buddhism pessimistic is like calling a doctor pessimistic for diagnosing a disease. The Buddha’s goal was always the cessation of suffering, leading us to see things exactly as they are. What could be more positive than a path that offers a permanent cure for mental pain?
The second myth is that practitioners are selfish for "escaping" into meditation or monastic life. This is where the swimming analogy becomes essential.
Imagine seeing someone drowning in a turbulent river. If you don't know how to swim, jumping in will only result in two people drowning instead of one. To be a true hero, you must first:
Reach the shore yourself.
Master swimming techniques through intense practice.
Learn rescue skills so you can pull others to safety.
Those who ordain or dedicate themselves to deep practice are essentially "lifeguards in training." They are exploring the inner world to weaken their own ego and greed so they can eventually lead others to the same shore of peace. You cannot teach someone to be calm if you are still drowning in your own anger and anxiety.
Choosing to face one’s own mind and master the "art of happiness" is a courageous and noble dream. It is an act of great love to dedicate one’s life to finding a path out of pain for the benefit of everyone.
Instead of judging these practitioners as "distant," we should offer them our understanding. They are the specialists working on the most difficult project in the world: the end of human suffering. By encouraging them, we are supporting a more compassionate future for us all.
Luke Lin 2/6/2026