The four noble truths 1: the truth of suffering
The heart of the Buddha's teaching - how suffering is an integral part of life
When I first started learning about Buddhism, I was struck by all the lists. Here are just a few:
The Four Noble Truths
The Three Jewels
The Noble Eightfold Path
The Five Aggregates
The Five Precepts
Over two years into my Buddhist journey, and I am only familiar with a couple of these lists. And, yes, I said ‘journey’ - a hoary old spiritual cliché, I know, but it seems apt given that learning about Buddhism has been something of an odyssey. Perhaps, that’s why it is also referred to as a ‘path’.
Before I go on, I should pose a couple of questions. Queries which undergird this whole, humble project. Firstly, what authority do I have to explain the Awakened One’s teachings? Also, how can I possibly hope to relay his message with fresh perspective when so many titans of mind and spirit have gone before me? Great masters have conveyed the Buddha’s words with deft eloquence, drawing in thousands of follower with the power of language alone - and here I am, a spiritual nobody, tapping away at my desk in the English countryside. The answer is simple. I cannot compare. Still, I do not aspire to. I would not claim any authority other than my own - that of a simple man trying to decipher the Buddha’s wisdom and put it to some use. I therefore see this Substack as a guide for laypeople (such as myself) who are interested in Buddhism but may find the traditional sources too esoteric, and perhaps at times, a little too serious. And so, with that throat-clearing out of the way, let’s turn to the teachings.
After becoming enlightened, the first concept the Buddha shared was that of the Four Nobel Truths.
The truth of suffering in life
The truth of the cause of suffering
The truth of the end of suffering
The truth of the path which leads to the end of suffering
This is a fine starting point, and one I will explore in some depth. In these first few articles, I will focus on the first truth: that of the reality of suffering.
The Buddhist teachings were first written in the ancient Indian language of Pali with ‘suffering’ translated from the word dukkha. Other translations bring it closer to ‘dissatisfaction’ or ‘unease’. While this does not have the same guttural punch as suffering (and its associated dark imagery), it does convey our everyday experience more closely. Dukkha is the quiet feeling that things are not quite right. It is in the detail, the minutiae. It is the traffic jam, the rude neighbour, the dreaded presentation you have to deliver. Dukkha is the baby who will not stop crying, or the terse email from the boss. All those midnight doubts that add a little friction to life - that’s dukkha.
Naturally, there are gradients of suffering - from the annoying stubbed toe to the near-fatal injury - but they all share a common quality. They are real. Such sensations are an indelible part of the human experience. No matter where, or how, we live we all experience dukkha in some form. While this may sound a little gloomy, it is actually a liberating concept. For it can only be beneficial to see life (indeed, reality) as it really is. The acceptance that we all suffer is a form of release in itself.
As for my own dukkha, I am glad to report that it is typically petty, in that most banal Western fashion. Last week, after the Christmas holiday, I had the strong feeling that my comfortable, relatively well-paid office job was a bit of a downer. After the frivolities of X-box bouts with my children and leafing through the books my loving wife gifted me, I felt that life in a cubicle was below par. Surely, I was meant for some distinguished, higher calling? The feeling gnawed at me - all the way from Monday to Friday when I was released back into the warm sanctuary of streaming services and quite family time.
And that was it. That was my suffering. How truly blessed I am. No doubt, it felt pretty raw at the time as I attended meetings and tapped out emails riddled with corporate slang (‘let’s touch base and circle back, moving forward’). Now, it is nothing but a faded, hangover of a dream. Still, I am going to do my best to hold my suffering close, slight as it may be, and see what it has to teach me. Perhaps the subtle sense of disarray has some utility after all.
Reading this reminded me how much of my own “dukkha” comes from feeling like I should be somewhere else—further ahead, doing something more meaningful, living a bigger life. That quiet dissatisfaction, the sense that things aren’t quite right, has been a constant companion. It’s not dramatic suffering, but it lingers in the background, especially when I compare where I am to where I thought I’d be by now.
What resonated most was the idea that recognizing suffering as a universal truth is freeing rather than depressing. It reframes the frustration—not as proof that something is wrong with me, but as something intrinsic to life itself. Instead of resisting it, maybe there’s a way to learn from it. That’s a shift I’ve been trying to make: seeing discomfort as a teacher rather than an enemy.
I appreciate the way you’re making these teachings accessible. The ancient texts can feel distant, but tying them to everyday struggles—like the post-holiday slump or the tedium of work—makes them feel relevant. Looking forward to your take on the cause of suffering.