The Paradox of Trying to Be Good | Buddhism & Jung

本站添加: 2026-05-15

[00:00:00]The story of how the Buddha  converted a killer is, really, the story of each of us. We all have darkness  within us, whether we know it or not. And often, the harder we try to be “good”, the more we  deepen our inner conflict. Today, we will look at an ancient Buddhist story that depicts this  psychological trap–and points the way out of it.

[00:00:27]Welcome to SEEKER TO SEEKER, my friend.  If you’re new here, my name is Simeon, and on this channel, we mine the world’s wisdom  traditions for insight that can guide us today.

[00:00:37]What follows is my personal retelling of  Aṅgulimāla Sutta, which is one of the most striking pieces of Buddhist scripture, as you’ll  see. And here, I’ll present the story through a Jungian or symbolic lens to bring out its deep  insights into human psychology. So, let us begin… Long ago, during the time of King Pasenadi,  there lived a hateful man. Brutal, with a passion for murder and destruction. He roamed  the kingdom, turning villages into non-villages, reducing towns to non-towns. The people called  him Aṅgulimāla, for he wore a garland (or mala) made of anguli–the fingers of his victims. During that time, the kingdom was also home to a famed wandering ascetic, a teacher known  as “the Buddha”, meaning “the awakened one”.

[00:01:49]One day, the Buddha was passing through a  town where the people were in great distress, for the killer Aṅgulimāla had been spotted  in the nearby woods. Many of the townspeople approached the great sage, concerned for  his safety. Many offered him a place to stay until the danger had passed. But the Buddha, to  everyone’s dismay, paid no heed to the warnings.

[00:02:17]The people last saw him leaving town and entering  the woods where the killer had been spotted.

[00:02:24]It was getting dark when Aṅgulimāla saw the  Buddha approaching from afar. The killer thought to himself, “I have slaughtered whole parties  of men who’ve been out to get me, and now here comes this wanderer, attacking me on his own… How  proud he is! I wonder what power his fingers might hold!” Aṅgulimāla drew his blade and, concealed  in deep shadow, made his way towards his prey.

[00:02:58]The Buddha was walking at a steady pace as the  killer approached him from behind. When the time to strike had come, Aṅgulimāla leapt out  from the shadows and dashed toward his target.

[00:03:14]The ascetic paid no mind to him and only continued  walking. Aṅgulimāla moved faster than a leopard, but run as he might, the distance between him  and his target seemed only to grow. Angry and confused, the killer pushed himself  even further. Like a fleeting shadow, he slid through the air, his feet barely touching  the ground… But it was no use. The ascetic he was chasing kept receding in the distance. Out of breath, his legs giving out, Aṅgulimāla gave up his chase. Never in his life had he run  as fiercely as he had now, and yet his target got away. “What trickery is this?’’ he thought.  “Is this wanderer some kind of a magician?”

[00:04:09]With desperate fury, Aṅgulimāla roared  out into the silent woods: “Hey, you there! Stop at once! Do you hear me? Stop!” The next moment, the ascetic was standing right in front of Aṅgulimāla. The killer,  terrified, stumbled and fell to the ground.

[00:04:34]The Buddha, wearing the moon as a halo over  his head, looked Aṅgulimāla in the eyes ans spoke to him in a firm, but loving voice:  “I have stopped, Aṅgulimāla. Now, you stop.”

[00:04:54]This is a good place to pause and  consider what the story is saying.

[00:04:59]Notice that the moment Aṅgulimāla spots the  Buddha, he assumes he is under attack. The killer cannot conceive of another reason why  somebody might approach him. If we read the scene psychologically, we might ask ourselves: “What are those thoughts, feelings, and desires within me that feel condemned, judged,  and attacked the moment they are seen?”

[00:05:27]In depth psychology, these repressed, unwanted  parts of ourselves are known as the “shadow”, and we all have them. Like the townspeople  in the story, we habitually avoid facing these loathsome thoughts, feelings, and  urges of ours–or we outright deny having them. But how does the Buddha treat the killer  Aṅgulimāla? Let’s return to the story and see… “I have stopped, Aṅgulimāla,”  said the Buddha. “Now, you stop.”

[00:06:06]The killer, his face pale with  terror, demanded, “What is the meaning of this? What do you want from me?” “I have stopped once and for all,” the Buddha replied. “There is no longer any  violence within me toward living beings.

[00:06:26]Now, Aṅgulimāla, you stop.” Saying this, the ascetic offered his hand to the killer. It was an open  hand, holding no blade and no shackles–a sight Aṅgulimāla had forgotten. Tears started  streaking down the killer’s face. As he gazed on the radiant face before him, he realised  the Buddha had not come upon him by accident or to attack him. The Buddha had come to help. The killer took the hand that was offered and pulled himself up on his feet. He cast  his weapons away in the dark and bowed, his head touching the feet of the ascetic. “Take  me with you, compassionate great seer. Allow me to live with you, allow me to live as you live.” “Come,” the Buddha replied. And so began Aṅgulimāla’s life as a monk. Notice how the story refers to the Buddha here: “compassionate great seer”. That comes  from the original sutta, not my retelling, and I think it is the heart of the message. Only after being seen with compassion does Aṅgulimāla begin his transformation. Compassion,  mind you, does not mean approval. At no point does the Buddha say, “Oh, I don’t mind you wearing  human fingers around your neck; killing people is totally fine!” He does the opposite, in fact;  he tells Aṅgulimāla that he must change his ways.

[00:08:18]But he doesn’t say it as an accusation or  condemnation. He says it as an invitation.

[00:08:28]This ancient Buddhist sutta has many uncanny  parallels with stories from the Gospels.

[00:08:34]Five centuries after the Buddha visited  Aṅgulimāla, Christ would dine with tax collectors, prostitutes, and “sinners” of all  stripes. Both He and the Buddha teach us that vice is not to be destroyed or conquered by  virtue; vice must be transformed into virtue.

[00:08:58]And how does this miracle occur? Through  the practice of compassionate seeing. Now, let’s return to our story and see what more  it has to teach us about inner transformation.

[00:09:16]The Buddha spent some time wandering through  the kingdom with Aṅgulimāla by his side, teaching him the life of a monk. By the time  the two retreated to Anathapindika's monastery, many had recognized the Buddha’s companion  and sent word to the royal palace.

[00:09:35]King Pasenadi, upon learning that his teacher,  the Buddha, was stalked by the infamous killer, gathered a company of soldiers and set out  personally with them for Anathapindika's monastery. The king stormed into the monastery  alone and headed straight to his teacher's cell.

[00:09:57]“What troubles you, Pasenadi?” asked  the Buddha when the king entered, his hand on the hilt of his sword. “Has a rival  attacked your domain? Are your people in danger?”

[00:10:11]“My people are in danger, and so are you,  teacher,” said the king with a quick bow.

[00:10:18]“A killer has infiltrated your community. This  is a man I have hunted for years to no avail. He has slaughtered whole companies of my men  and has laid waste to entire settlements.

[00:10:31]I fear you may be his latest target, teacher.” “The king is in great distress,” said the Buddha to his attendant monk, “please bring some  water for him.” Then, he addressed the king, “I appreciate your concern for me, and for  your people, Pasenadi, but I can assure you the killer Aṅgulimāla is not here.” “So, you know of whom I speak,” exclaimed the king. “With all due respect,  teacher, I have reliable information that Aṅgulimāla has followed you on your  travels, disguised as one of your own.”

[00:11:11]“Let me ask you, Pasenadi,” said the Buddha,  “what if you found that man you’ve been hunting here in the monastery, but not disguised, as  you say. What if you found him clean-shaven, wearing monk’s robes, devoted to cultivating  insight and compassion? What would you do then?”

[00:11:35]“I do not believe this is possible,” replied the  king, “but for your sake, I will entertain the thought. What you are asking is what I would do  in the case of a miracle. The only appropriate response then would be to bow, of course.” “Some water for your highness,” said the attendant monk who had now returned, and he offered a jug  to the king. Pasenadi took the jug and drank.

[00:12:05]“Then bow you must,” said the Buddha to  the king, “for the killer you once hunted is the monk who has now quenched your thirst.” The king froze. Only now did his eyes rest on the monk standing before him. Only now did  he notice the face, disfigured with scars.

[00:12:28]But there was no hatred in that face, there  was no challenge in the monk’s downcast eyes.

[00:12:36]A chill terror gripped the king, and his hair  stood on end–but only for a moment. One glance at the Buddha was enough for him to collect himself.  Pasenadi bowed to the monk before him. He then turned to the Buddha and kneeled. “I see, teacher,” said the king, “that what I failed to achieve by force,  you’ve achieved without any such means.

[00:13:04]You’ve tamed the untamable. There appears  to be no need for me in this monastery, so I leave you now. The people will be relieved to  hear that Aṅgulimāla, the killer, lives no more.”

[00:13:20]This part of Aṅgulimāla’s story reads more  like a fairytale than Buddhist scripture, but it conveys profound insight nonetheless.  To understand its psychological meaning, let's apply some concepts from Jungian psychology. Aṅgulimāla, as we saw, is a depiction of the shadow, or everything within us that  we condemn, that we want to be rid of.

[00:13:47]King Pasenadi would then be a depiction  of the ego, or our self-identity.

[00:13:53]For most people, most of the time, the ego and the  shadow are in constant conflict. For example, when I say, “I am a good person,” I identify with all  my impulses to help others. These become part of my self-identity, part of my ego. But then, what  happens to my anger, my envy, my hatred? Well, I deny having such feelings, so they get pushed  away from the ego and become shadow. As a result, the more I seek to be good (or to see  myself as good), the more divided I become.

[00:14:38]When King Pasenadi describes how he’s  been hunting Aṅgulimāla to no avail, this is a figurative description of our internal  dynamics, the way the ego is constantly chasing its own shadow. But then the king discovers the  killer, Aṅgulimāla, transformed into a monk; the shadow has become light. The psychological  equivalent of this is to see our vices turn out to be virtues, to see the worst within  us turn into a force for good. You may wonder whether this is possible, and the king  shares your disbelief. But the Buddha insists, “the killer you once hunted is the  monk who has now quenched your thirst”.

[00:15:30]If the story claims such an inner transformation  is possible, then how can we achieve it in our own lives? Well, the story is actually clear that  we–meaning, our egos–cannot make it happen.

[00:15:46]The king tried everything, but never managed to  catch Aṅgulimāla. Indeed, one of the core insights of depth psychology is that the ego’s efforts to  overcome the shadow only feed the shadow further.

[00:16:02]Remember, the shadow is made of our attempts  to get rid of certain aspects of ourselves; so, if we try to get rid of the shadow, we  only give it more of what it is made of!

[00:16:15]For example, if we have anger issues, one sure  strategy to perpetuate the problem is to keep telling ourselves, “I shouldn’t be angry!” So, what can we do? Since the way of the king doesn’t work, we may try the way of the  Buddha. Now, how does the Buddha, using no force or deception, manage to convert the killer  into a saint? Let’s examine the chain of events.

[00:16:46]First, all the townspeople warn the Buddha not  to enter the woods where Aṅgulimāla is hiding.

[00:16:54]What is the psychological significance of this? Well, we all have a tendency to avoid facing certain aspects of ourselves. We often prefer  to explain away certain feelings, thoughts, or actions of ours, or to pretend like they  are not there. This, of course, prevents us from engaging with exactly those aspects of  our personality we most need to work on. If the Buddha had listened to the people, he would  never have converted Aṅgulimāla, and the killer would have gone on to claim many more victims. Next, we learn the Buddha enters the forest unarmed, though he is aware of the danger  lurking there. He goes to the killer as a “compassionate great seer”. To follow the  Buddha’s example would mean to intentionally seek out everything within us that we find  difficult to accept… But–and here is the key point–we must approach this difficult material  not as adversaries, but as compassionate seers.

[00:18:02]Shadow integration is subtle and sometimes  counterintuitive work. We learn that trying to get rid of the shadow is actually what sustains it.  But then, if we try not to want to get rid of it in order to get rid of it, this is only a subtler  form of the same issue, and the shadow persists.

[00:18:25]The way to cut this Gordian knot is to  accept that we really cannot destroy or fix, or transform the shadow–but we can allow it to  transform itself. How? By giving it the one thing we’ve been depriving it of: compassionate seeing. Only once we invite our darkness into the light of compassionate awareness can it  begin to heal. In the story, remember, it was Aṅgulimāla who pleaded with the Buddha to  accept him as a monk. All the Buddha did was visit Aṅgulimāla and offer him a hand, not approving his  crimes, but not condemning him for them either.

[00:19:11]Shadow integration is more of an art than a  science. It is not a matter of mechanically following a formula like “observe your vices,  don’t judge them, and they’ll change”. If we are using a formula, strategy, or technique, we are  already approaching our shadow with condemnation, which only deepens our inner conflict. To heal  our shadow requires a fundamental change in our attitude, a different way of living, really. It is  something you can’t fake or achieve by following a prescribed formula. For the shadow to change,  the ego must change. It must grow humble, like the king bowing to the Buddha, and accept that its  condemnation may be the very root of the problem.

[00:20:02]Only then does the miracle occur… Once our vices are truly seen with compassion, they begin to mature into  virtues. Anger develops into the ability to stand up for oneself. Envy settles into  the skill of admiring others and learning from them. Hatred resolves into acceptance of  the true complexity of others and of oneself.

[00:20:32]Integrating our shadow may seem like strictly  personal work, but it actually improves our relationships with others as well. As the  fractured parts of our psyche reunite, we learn to accept both ourselves and others whole,  not just the parts we find pleasant. Ironically, the more we let go of our “good” self-image,  the more peaceful and understanding we become.

[00:20:59]No wonder Jung exclaimed: I would rather be whole than good.

[00:21:06]The encounter between the Buddha and Aṅgulimāla  depicts the psychological drama of each of us.

[00:21:13]Making peace with our shadow is one of the most  important initiations of human life, and yet many never undertake this task consciously.  Many of us live our lives split in two, caught in an endless civil war between what  we accept and what we don’t accept within ourselves. If this video resonated with you,  I have another one that goes deeper into the practical side of shadow integration, according  to Jung’s experience and insights. I invite you to watch that next, if you want to learn more. As always, thank you for watching, and remember… What you seek is seeking you. See you next time.