Aspirin for a Headache: Why I No Longer Believe in the Yogacara Philosophy That Fascinated Me in College

When I was a university student, I went through a period of deep fascination with Buddhist thought.

It was not that I wanted to become a monk. Buddhism contains philosophically compelling discussions about what the world is and what it means to be human.

I was especially interested in the idea of Consciousness-Only, associated with the Buddhist Yogacara tradition.

To put it extremely simply, it holds that the world human beings experience is constituted through the workings of the mind.

At the time, I loved ideas like this. Thinking about the true nature of the world also made me feel slightly more intelligent.

As I grew older, however, I became less convinced by this way of thinking.

The reason is very simple.

When my head hurts, I am in no condition to think about philosophy.

The Mind Easily Loses to a Single Headache

Suppose you are meditating.

You sit quietly, regulate your breathing, and try to calm your mind.

Then your head begins to throb. What happens?

Breathing is no longer the issue. You want to take medicine as soon as possible, and that is all you can think about.

The same is true when you are hungry. You cannot concentrate when you are sleep-deprived, and a fever can darken your mood as well.

The mind is remarkably vulnerable to the condition of the body.

Today, we know even more.

Brain damage can change a person’s personality. Drugs can alter mood and consciousness. Anesthesia can make consciousness disappear altogether.

Once we know these facts, it becomes difficult not to feel uneasy about philosophies that explain the world by placing the mind at the center.

We may be told that the mind creates the world, but that mind itself can be transformed by a single change in the brain.

Is ¥1 Million Just Paper?

That said, I do not want to reject every aspect of Consciousness-Only thought.

Imagine a stack of ¥1 million in cash—about $6,700—sitting in front of you.

Physically, it is only paper and ink.

But we do not see it as “only paper.”

We think about what ¥1 million could buy, how many months of living expenses it would cover, whether to spend it on travel, or whether to save it.

Different people will imagine different possibilities.

In other words, we do not merely see the physical object in front of us. We add meaning and value to it.

The same is true of luxury goods. Add the logo of a famous brand to a similar-looking bag, and the price may multiply several times over.

In this sense, I still think it is correct to say that human beings do not see the world exactly as it is.

But there is an important distinction.

The human mind created the value called ¥1 million. That does not mean the human mind created the paper itself.

No matter how intensely we wish for it, paper will not appear from nothing.

In the End, I Still Meditate

Despite everything I have written, I still practice Zen and meditation.

That does not mean I believe every Buddhist teaching.

Sitting quietly and focusing on my breathing helps organize my thoughts a little. That alone has enough value for me.

I enjoy the parts that are philosophically interesting. I use the methods that are helpful. I do not force myself to believe the parts that do not convince me.

I think that is enough.

And when I have a headache, I do not meditate.

I take medicine and go to bed.

Two thousand years ago, Buddhist thinkers tried to uncover the true nature of the mind.

But it was a pharmaceutical company that solved my headache.

For now, I trust aspirin more than Buddhism.