On will, and Watts
Why can’t we do what we want? I think what Buddhists mean when they say “eat when hungry” is simply to keep it grounded, don’t overthink it. We are not doing what we want, but simply doing what the body requires. So it is not what we want but what the body wants, what the world requires. I think the passage from Eckhart covers this quite well. That we need to abandon our will for anything and everything to God.
There is a whole other question about the nature of will-who or what it is that wills something. If, as it almost invariably is, the will is simply the ego trying to control things, then exercising it or strengthening it is simply feeding the ego. The parable of the prodigal son is a very good illustration of this.
(It’s interesting but the microphone is definitely being affected by the noise of the builders)
That is not to say that there is something wrong with exercising choice. Not-doing is as much of an action as doing. The trick is to not-do without ego, without choice, without instrumentalising our action. I can not-smoke or not-drink simply because that is best for my body, for the body, and to the extent that this body can do anything for the world, for the world. But as soon as I pollute that not-doing with ego and will the not-doing becomes self-defeating. Simon Weil has very interesting things to say about the will-that she only exercises willpower to see for herself how weak her will really is and that actually nothing ever happens except through God.
Alan Watts is a challenge. As far as I can see, he died an alcoholic. For those who want to this gives them a ready excuse to point at him and say “you see I told you, he is talking rubbish”. But Suzuki said, when a student pointed this out, Watts was a bodhisattva. That his teaching and his understanding is true. I believe Watts himself was genuinely puzzled by this question. He constantly refers to himself as a rascal and he undoubtedly was. Part of this is simply accepting oneself as one is. That could equally well be self-indulgence. And of course the problem with alcohol and drugs in general is that they promote ignorance and our addiction to them is undoubtedly a perfect case of clinging. It may also be an example of aversion, that we are using alcohol or drugs as a way of denying reality, hiding from our own weakness, or trying to forget what we are here to do. St Paul is quite good on this too - why do we do what we do not want to do, why can’t god simply take away our sinful desires. For him, the thorn of his vice (whatever it was - he doesn’t tell us) was a constant and useful reminder of his weakness and imperfections - that only God could really fix him. Which is Weil’s point too.
The problem for Watts was that knowing as he did that in the final analysis none of this matters why should you not drink a litre of gin a day (other versions say it was vodka). And this is a genuine problem, to which I think the only response can be to forget one’s self, to forget one’s desires and simply be in the moment, abandoned to god. The danger with making asceticism the mere exercise of will to give up sin, is that one simply keeps building up the ego-as the desert fathers used to say, the last and greatest sin is spiritual pride, that I through my own will have overcome this weakness.
And on a related note, one of the reasons I did finally manage to stop drinking before I came to Bonnevaux, was finding my mentor Belle by searching on the Internet for “not thinking about drinking”. That all we do by obsessing about our sins is to build up the ego and that can go both ways; the ego can think it is wonderful because it has overcome this weakness but the ego can think it is awful because it is unable to overcome this weakness-one outcome is just as bad as the other. This is why the Buddha’s emphasis on the Middle Way is so important. And, for that matter, Benedict’s as well. Moderation in all things.