Emptiness

Lehetne a blog mottója is, ezért a hamvába holt helyhez tegyünk egy hamvába holt ötletet hozzá és bele is feccölhetünk kis munkát is: annak a kábé egy olvasónak rajtam kívül, aki idetéved, elkezdem az általam évekkel ezelőtt nagyrabecsült esszésorozatot itt magamban elbeszélgetni úgy, hogy a szöveget előbb teszem közzé, mint a róluk szóló gondolataimat. Itt az első.

Emptiness

by William Cobb

The fact that the board is an empty grid at the beginning of the game is one of the most striking features of Go. The metaphor of emptiness also plays a fundamental role in Buddhist philosophy. These two occurrences of the notion of emptiness can illuminate each other.

To say that something is empty draws attention to the absence of something. Initially, what we see as lacking in the case of the game are playing pieces already set up before play; there is only the empty board with its grid of lines. It is more difficult to give an initial characterization of the Buddhist sense of emptiness, which is usually referred to by the Sanskrit term sunyata (the Japanese word is ku). The claim is that everything is empty, and what is lacking is a certain way of existing, a certain type of being, namely, absolute self-sufficiency or complete independence. Everything exists or is what it is by virtue of a dependence on other things. Nothing is absolutely self-sufficient. Nor is anything absolutely permanent and unchanging. Each thing is dependent on other things for its existence, and its nature or character is a function of its relationships with other things and hence changes as those things change. (What is lacking, what things are empty of, is sometimes called "inherent nature" [Sanskrit svabhava].) As a consequence of this view, Buddhists cannot make unqualified statements about things, since everything is both contextual and changing.

The concrete example of emptiness provided by the game of Go can help to clarify what Buddhists mean by the emptiness of everything, and reflection on the Buddhist view offers a more profound insight into the sense in which the game of Go, as well as the board at the beginning of the game, is empty.

In Go, the meaning and significance of the stones is entirely a function of their relation to other stones, and is subject to constant change. No stone has any "inherent" significance, beyond the most minimal fact of being able to occupy one point. Whether it is important or unimportant, good or bad, strong or weak depends on surrounding stones and the overall situation, and is always subject to change. This contingent and contextual nature of the significance of the stones is one of the reasons Go is endlessly fascinating. As a game develops, it is capable of astonishing fluctuations. Even a solidly alive group can be killed by filling in one's own liberties, and though that is not likely to happen, the question of whether the group is important or useful is clearly subject to change. The plays used to give a group life may lose the game. Thus, one cannot say in an unqualified way that any play is good or bad. It all depends, and that is just what sunyata is all about.

Go players, therefore, are ready to understand that when Buddhists say that everything is empty, they do not mean that things lack significance or meaning. The traditional claim that Buddhists are pessimistic is a gross misunderstanding. Rather, they mean that the significance of things is always contextual, contingent, and subject to change. Nothing can be said to be good or bad in an absolute sense. In practical terms, as every Go player knows, this means that you should not give up too quickly when your position appears to be bad. You can never predict what may happen. Often your playing partner will turn your position into a winning one. Similarly, you should not relax and assume victory when you have a good position. This too can change dramatically. The result is an attitude of equanimity in the face of every situation-the attentive calmness characteristic of a Buddhist monk.

Even at the conclusion of a game, this sort of emptiness is still characteristic of Go. That one loses or wins is not inherently good or bad. A loss can be very instructive, and thus lead to an improvement in your play, while a win may hide a fatal flaw in your grasp of the game. And we have to say that even becoming stronger is not necessarily good, since you may become more addicted to the game and neglect other responsibilities! The final result is that one sees playing itself as a privilege. One quits "making good and bad" and simply enjoys the play, just the way Buddhists approach life in general. It is a useful practice to pause and reflect on the empty board before one begins to play.

The Empty Board #1

American Go Journal XXVIII, 4 (Fall 1994), 34-35