The Three Marks of Existence
It is impossible and inconceivable, monks, that a person with right view could consider any formation as permanent…
It is impossible and inconceivable, monks, that a person with right view could consider any formation as a source of lasting happiness…
It is impossible and inconceivable, monks, that a person with right view could consider anything as a self; there is no such possibility.
—Buddha, AN 1.268-270
Come, take a good look at this world,
Pretty like a king's chariot.
Though fools become immersed in it,
For the wise there's no attachment.
See how much it's like a bubble!
See how much it's like a mirage!
The king of death does not see one
Who regards the world in this way.
—Buddha, Dhp. XIII
***
Right now, as you look at this screen, notice that you’re seeing.
Step back from the content of your vision and just become aware of the act of seeing. Seeing is just...happening. Even if you close your eyes, there’s still the visual sensation of the backs of your eyelids and the play of light and darkness.
This experience of seeing is, like all the senses, given to you. These sights and sounds and scents, these tastes and tactile sensations—they’re just there, regardless of our will. They are given…and they can be taken away at any time. Thus, their nature is impermanent. Sure, the objects of your sight are impermanent; that’s obvious. But even the organ of your sight is utterly subject to change. These eyes are beholden to illness, aging, and death. They will not last.
The Buddha taught that since our experiences (perceived through the five senses and the mind) are impermanent (anicca), they are also unsatisfactory (dukkha) and "non-self" (anatta). These are known as the “three characteristics” or “the three marks of existence.” Seeing, for instance, is impermanent because it is subject to change; it is unsatisfactory since, being subject to change, it cannot provide you with lasting happiness (even the most pleasing sight would fade); and it is “non-self” in the sense that it is un-ownable—it’s not yours; it can be taken away without your permission when you least expect it. If it were yours, you’d have control over these sights and these eyes. These eyes are merely borrowed.
This framework can be applied to all aspects of our experience: to these present-moment sensations, these feelings, these mental states, these thoughts. All of it is utterly (a) impermanent; (b) unable to provide lasting happiness; and (c) un-ownable.
There’s a tendency to apply the three marks of existence impersonally, as some abstract truth related to things “out there.” Instead, we want to work toward applying them directly to our experience—to the things we hold dearest, to all the ways in which we “consume” the world through our desires, our attachments. To all the ways we think we’re in control. This is how we make this practice real, alive, transformative. This is how we start to “undo” our life (in a good way!).
As we incorporate this understanding of the three characteristics into our experience, we begin to see how much anxiety and confusion we habitually endure by assuming that things are (a) unchanging; (b) able to provide lasting happiness; and (c) within our control. We start to see that when we attach to that which changes (anicca), it inevitably causes us un-ease (dukkha). As Thanissaro Bhikkhu says, “If something is anicca, it’s unreliable. It wavers. If you try to base your happiness on it, you have to keep tensing up around it—like trying to find some rest while sitting on a chair with wobbly, uneven legs.”
With practice, we begin to see that our experience is simply unfolding on its own terms—the result of myriad causes and conditions. And while it’s true that we don’t have ultimate control over how things unfold, we do have responsibility—and it’s here that our meditation resides. It’s here where we have the opportunity to train the mind in letting go of its harmful habits and in developing skills, such as mindfulness, discernment, and equanimity.
With practice, we start to see where we get entangled—where we get caught up in chasing after what we like and resisting what we don’t like, where we “check out” into fantasyland—and we learn to just let things be without attaching, to let life transpire as it will. We learn to allow the alternating of “the five phases” to simply happen, without making it so personal. We’re still making choices, of course, but we’re starting to do so with an understanding of the context. And that context includes these three marks of existence.
If you’re new to meditation, start simply. Start with this simple practice of noticing that you’re seeing, and then extend it to noticing that you’re hearing, that you're touching. Notice that you’re breathing. See if you can “stitch together” consecutive moments of awareness of this very body. And see if you can keep the context—that you are borrowing this living, breathing body—instead of getting caught up in the content (all the particular sensations, feelings, mental states, thoughts—all the drama of our experience). Can you see your sense experiences as impermanent; unable to provide lasting happiness; and un-ownable?
This might represent a considerable shift from your normal way of operating, but I encourage you to give it a whirl. Go slow, be kind to yourself. And feel free to let me know what you find out!
***
For more on the topic, click here.
Note that the Buddha’s teachings on self and not-self are nuanced. For guidance on the topic, you might consider Thanissaro Bhikkhu’s Selves & Not-Self. He also has plenty of Youtube talks on the subject, including this talk and this talk.