Western metaphysical authors and teachers, as well as average, ‘mundane’ people, define karma as ‘the law that if you do good, good things will happen to you, and if you do bad, bad things will happen to you.’ In doing this, they identify karma in terms of reciprocity—i.e. you reap what you sew. Now, while this definition certainly gives a quick and dirty explanation of what karma does, it fails to describe what karma is. For this reason, I find this definition to be particularly useless and misleading.
I have two outstanding problems with this Western conceptualization of karma: (1) It qualifies karma, often as a negative and disciplinary force and (2) it makes karma objective rather than subjective. Both of these points skew the perception of what karma actually is, and thus this definition of karma undermines the very thing that it is attempting to define.
Whether you ardently adhere to a belief in the power of karma or not, chances are that you are familiar with the idea of karma as a disciplinary force. There is a tendency, both within metaphysical communities and with-out, to blame negative occurrences as well as one’s shortcomings and failures on karma. Often times, this sort of blame is meant as a joke. If you are running with a friend and you trip, falling on your stomach, you may get up and laugh off the embarrassment by suggesting to your friend that you tripped because of your ‘bad karma.’ While this action does not necessarily mean that you accept the concept of karma, it certainly does shape both your friend’s and your perception of what karma is. It sets karma up as a disciplinary agent, one that is out to smite you if ever you should mess up. In a sense, this is true: Karma can bring about unfavorable results if we pursue unwholesome actions. Yet, this is a dangerous mindset to get into. To understand this, let’s think about a different situation. Say you get a promotion. Are you likely to attribute this advancement to good karma? Probably not. You will most likely say that you either earned the promotion or that you were awarded it by luck. So, while we are apt to blame karma, we very rarely—if ever!—glorify karma as the source of pleasantries. Although the poplar Western definition of karma does suggest that karma allows for both good and bad outcomes, the malleability of the definition permits it to be skewed to the point that karma becomes an entirely negative process.
In modern Hindu culture, the notion of karma is just as present as it was thousands of years ago. (For those who do not know, the idea of karma began with the Vedic [proto-Hindu] population of India.) Yet in its more original Hindu context, the function of karma appears very different from the one conceptualized in the West. In popular Hindu thought, karma is not a disciplinary agent. Rather, it is a means to avoid and to alter unfavorable circumstances. For example, if a Hindu man is plagued by crop failure, he may say that, yes, bad karma has a part in this crop failure. However, rather than dwelling on the effects of his bad karma, he will seek to produce good karma in hopes of counteracting these undesirable conditions. He will use karma as an escape route. Whereas a Westerner may understand karma to be the princess’s fairytale tower, the Hindu is more apt to see karma as the knight in shining armor, come to whisk the princess away from misery.
I believe that the Hindu idea of karma is more accurate. Karma is not about retrograding: It is not about accepting or ‘feeling the burn’ of what you have done. It is about becoming, about utilizing life’s moments so as to create things in a better and more pleasing fashion. The Western concept of karma often does not allow for the latter. The Western definition becomes too skewed, too one-sided for this.
Now, I say that I believe the Hindu idea of karma is more accurate than the Western idea of karma because the Hindu conceptualization focuses on the positive, redeeming aspects of karma rather than the negative and troubling aspects. Yet, truth be told, both are just different extremes on the same spectrum; both are more-or-less one-sided understandings of karma. The underlying problem with both of these, then, is that they attempt to qualify karma; they try to force human norms upon it, titling it ‘good’ or ‘bad’ karma. However this is futile. Karma is not a part of our human society; it is different. Therefore we cannot simply subject it to our human estimations of what ‘should’ be. To qualify karma, then, is simply absurd—no matter if you are qualifying it as good or as bad. When we qualify karma, we are setting up two new ideas: ‘bad’ karma and ‘good’ karma. Instead of defining ‘karma,’ then, we end up giving definitions to these subcategories, and when we do not understand the nature of the underlying principle, we simply cannot give a proper description of its function, no matter in what form it appears.
So what is the actual nature of karma? Good question. There is no one-size-fits-all understanding of karma. As is typical with such elusive matters, there are many different schools and opinions out there. I prefer to think that karma cannot be caught up in a stagnant definition, that it is something that goes beyond the duality of language. However, if I had to choose, I would go with a Buddhist explanation: Karma is becoming. And this moves me on to my second complaint.
The second major thing that irritates me about the Western understanding of karma is that it constructs karma as a cosmic law. It is outside of us, a force like gravity which acts upon us; we are at its mercy. This is evinced by how we speak about karma: Karma brings us bad things; karma causes things to happen. In speaking about karma in this manner, we disassociate ourselves from it. To an extent, this train of thought appears in popular Hinduism, too. However, I would argue—and am arguing—that this is a fundamentally erroneous way to understand karma. I would agree with the Buddha on this one: Karma is not what has become us; it is what we have become.
In its original form, the word karma was the Sanskrit word for action. More specifically, it referred to the ritualized action of Vedic sacrifice. To perform a sacrifice to the gods, then, was karma. It was our buddha, Gautama Buddha, who changed this. In his teachings on the dharma, the Buddha reshaped the idea of karma. You could say that he effectively ethicized it. In doing so, Buddha transformed karma from an objective into a subjective experience. His notion of karma could be summed up simply—‘simply’ meaning a simple version—as: ‘The doer becomes the deed.’ In the Buddha’s schema, then, karma was the process of becoming. You were what you did.
The notion of ‘the doer becomes the deed’ may seem foreign to many of us, but I assure you that it is more ubiquitous and, indeed, more scientific than you may realize. Think about the old saying, ‘You are what you eat.’ Really think about it. It is true, isn’t it? At least, that is what modern science tells us. Yes, our bodies, their energies, and all of their processes come from what we eat. Food gives us the nutrients needed to build our bones and organs; its digestion provides us with the energy of life; and this energy, in turn, feeds our physical processes. We really are what we eat, then, aren’t we? The Buddha’s concept of karma works the same way as this food analogy—in fact, it could even be argued that the food analogy is an example of the karmic process.
To say that karma is the process of becoming really is not that foreign to us. Again, modern science demonstrates this in the field of psychology. Any psychologist can tell you that we are products of our environments—that our environments and our behaviors within these environments continually create and recreate who we are. In a sense, this is what the Buddha was saying: We are the results of our actions, and karma is the process by which we go from action to result.
One word that keeps coming up again and again in this discussion is ‘process,’ and I think that it is important to pause for a moment so that we can tease out this idea a little bit better. In common Western understanding, karma is a law. It is a hard fact of nature, something that is separate and outside of ourselves. To say that karma is a law is to say that it is stagnant, and since it is stagnant, we should be able to touch it, to explore it, and to quantify it. It is to say that we can measure things by it, that we can declare things good, bad, better, or worse by holding them up to the ‘karmic ruler.’ However, the very nature of karma dictates that this cannot be true: karma cannot be a stagnant force. The concept of karma states that it is fundamentally mutable, able to adapt to the individual’s experience and circumstance. If karma were a law, it would have to be non-discriminatory, affecting everything in the same manner: The consequences of one person’s action would have to directly correlate to the consequences of anyone else who performed that same action. Yet, karma does not function in this manner. It is far more relative, affecting each person according to his or her own norms. Thus karma, failing to be truly objective, cannot be a law.
To say karma is a process, then, is to acknowledge its fundamentally dynamic and subjective nature. It also disassociates karma from its physical consequences. All too often, the Western mind likes to define karma in terms of its fruition; it sees karma as an end rather than as the means to that end. However, in the Buddhist view, karma is not considered one-and-the-same with its effects. Rather, karma is the progression by which a cause leads to an effect. It is the process by which something becomes something else. Karma is not a destination but the journey which takes one to that destination. It is experiential, not containable nor truly describable, the very path of evolution, of becoming, of actualizing, of real-izing. Karma is not a law of the universe but a cosmic structuring—the way in which life passes, not simply the regulations by which it passes. In this light, the Western understanding of karma once again falls short.
A final trap into which Western karmic thought often stumbles is the application of the concept of karma to every experience—after all, in the Western schema, karma is a law, and it therefore must hold constant sway. Thus we begin to say that everything is the product of karma; yet, this is absurd. If I were to die, would that be because of my karma? No, certainly not. Perhaps the circumstances of my death were influenced by my karma, but the death itself is natural. It is no more a product of karma than the need to drink or to breathe is. Yet again, this trend demonstrates that, unbeknownst to the Western frame of mind, karma cannot be an objective law, as it does not blindly permeate all experiences of life.
The concept of karma has become a very important cornerstone in a great deal of Pagan traditions. However, these traditions often employ a Westernized understanding of karma, one that qualifies and objectifies karma, turning it into a nuanced and universal law. However, this certainly cannot be true. Karma, by its very implications, must be dynamic and based on a certain amount of personal relativity. Thus it cannot be a stagnant law, which would have to utilize a strict sense of ubiquity and equality. For that reason, it seems better to rationalize karma in a more Buddhist schema: understanding karma to be a morally neutral and subjective process, a process by which the instigator becomes one with his or her actions. In this understanding, karma is the means by which efforts come to fruition, and in being thus defined, this definition of karma avoids many of the pitfalls of its Westernized counterpart. While some may not agree with this spinning of karmic nature, I nevertheless hope that the proceeding arguments cause one to think and to question his or her own beliefs so that, no matter what direction they may ultimately take, these beliefs may be fortified, having been steeped in the waters of contemplation.
Beannachtaí ortsa agus ar do chuidse,
Blessings on you and yours,
Bryce
