Good evening, and welcome to our second lecture in this series. We’ll be picking up right where we left off last time – and we covered a lot of ground, as you’ll agree! I won’t rehash everything, but I will build directly on our last topic.

Recap: What is the Ego?

We were talking about the ego and what it actually is. I mentioned some general definitions, but we didn’t go into detail about its components. That’s exactly what we’ll explore today.

Last time, we said the ego is the feeling of a “self,” a sense of identity based on the idea of continuity. We described it as a complex structure that forms very early in life through our upbringing, what we receive from our parents, and later through our own experiences, education, and the relationships we build with our environment. The ego is conditioned by culture, customs, and ideas about good and evil. From this, it’s already clear that our ego—our idea of who we are—is a very intricate construct.

To simplify it, we can say this “self” or “I” consists of three main things: the mind, the body, and the environment. So, if we wanted to locate the ego and identify its basic elements, we’d point to the body, mind, and surroundings. These are the fundamental components on which the ego bases its existence.

The Ego’s Defense Mechanisms

We also spoke about the ego’s defense mechanisms and how they show up. We mentioned three specific areas where the ego manifests:

1. Security, comfort, and pleasure.

2. The intellect, including various ideologies.

3. The spiritual realm.

These are the three pillars or spheres where the ego finds its footing. Because of its somewhat illusory nature, the ego is in a constant, relentless search for support. It has a continuous need to validate itself—in other words, to confirm its own existence. Whatever we experience, the ego will use it to reaffirm that it exists. That’s its primary function.

Buddhism and Knowing Yourself

Last time, we also spoke about Buddhism in general, some of its characteristics, and that quote by Dogen that serves as a kind of motto for this entire series. We discussed the first part of that saying: “To know Buddhism is to know yourself.” I tried to explain how knowing Buddhism means knowing yourself. In fact, everything we’re discussing now is about what that kind of self-knowledge entails.

Let’s briefly recall the connection between Buddhism and self-knowledge:

To encounter the Buddha’s teaching—or Buddhism, which is a broader concept than just the teachings—essentially means to get to know Buddhist practice. Why? Because in Buddhism, theory and practice are never separated. Sure, if you pick up a book on Buddhism, you’ll find elaborate philosophical concepts that can be very hard to grasp. They are often so subtle and profound that they’re difficult to comprehend intellectually.

However, even though Buddhism is often presented as a highly philosophical teaching with an incredibly developed philosophy, from the Buddhist perspective, that philosophy was never meant to stand on its own. Its goal wasn’t just to be an interpretation of the world or a way to satisfy our curiosity about the nature of reality. In Buddhism, philosophy never had that purpose. It was always exclusively tied to real life, to the actual human situation, to where we find ourselves right now. It served to help a person clarify their situation, to understand it more deeply so they could transform it.

This brings us back to that simple definition the Buddha himself offered when he said he only teaches two things: suffering, and the cessation of suffering.

The entire philosophical framework of Buddhism, no matter how deep it goes, never strays from this definition. It is always deeply rooted in practice, in our everyday experience, in what we live through day by day. For this reason, to encounter Buddhism is always to encounter practice. Because Buddhism without practice would be mere theory, perhaps a distraction, an interesting philosophical speculation about life, but without that power to concretely change or transform anything within our lives. And Buddhism is absolutely not that. Buddhism is a teaching that serves precisely that inner revolution, that transformation. In this sense, talking about Buddhism without talking about practice is truly pointless.

Since we’ve mentioned practice, we could simply consider Buddhism a method—a method for getting to know oneself. So, the fundamental characteristic of Buddhist practice is this deep observation of oneself, with the aim of understanding our experience and, by understanding it, seeing its nature and the way to change it. To meet Buddhism is to meet a method for self-knowledge. Therefore, reading about Buddhism, listening to talks about it, and learning about it actually means engaging with yourself. And the most effective way to engage with yourself is through the practice of meditation. The practice of meditation is that deep observation of oneself.

Everything I will talk about tonight is, in a way, the result of such deep observation and is not mere theory or knowledge born from someone contemplating the nature of life while deeply sunk in an armchair. This is important to know. Because when we encounter a teaching, it’s vital to understand how that teaching originated, what it is a result of.

A Closer Look at the Ego: The Five Skandhas

We said we would examine the ego, the self, in more detail today. It might get a bit complicated, I must warn you right away, but don’t be discouraged. I will strive, to the best of my ability and as far as words allow, to make our subject as understandable as possible.

So, by observing ourselves, we can conclude that there is a whole spectrum of experience that makes us who we are. When we think about our own experience, we could distribute it along this spectrum. It’s very important to understand experience as a spectrum, as a set of experiences that interconnect and flow into one another. They are different, but not entirely; they are distinct, but not completely separate. That’s precisely why the word “spectrum” seems very fitting.

By observing his own experience, the Buddha, and many of his followers, gained insight into what constitutes this spectrum of experience. They described it as something called the five skandhas. Skandha is a Sanskrit word meaning “group” or “heap”—a conglomerate of something. In other words, this spectrum consists of five “heaps,” or five experiential groups. Experience also varies in that its spectrum is made up of tangible and intangible elements. Our experience, we could say, stretches across this spectrum from the tangible, from matter, all the way to experiences belonging to the mental sphere, which are not tangible or material.

1. The Heap of Form: Rupa Skandha

The first skandha belongs to the realm of the tangible and is called rupa skandha. Rupa is a Sanskrit term meaning form or shape, and it refers to the body. However, rupa skandha doesn’t refer only to the body. When we say “body,” we think we know what it is: “That’s me, these are my boundaries here, this is my body.” But it’s not quite that simple. Form is not just our body; form is also everything we perceive as form. So, rupa skandha actually represents all the tangible reality that we as beings can experience.

When we talk about what constitutes rupa skandha, we must say it is a “heap”—something composite. It is not an indivisible entity but a “heap” consisting of several parts. These parts are the Four Great Elements that make up all materiality in the universe. They are: earth, water, fire, and air.

This might sound like an alchemical definition. We know that modern chemistry speaks of more than a hundred elements. However, earth, water, fire, and air should not be taken literally as the substances we usually associate with those names, but rather in a symbolic sense:

• Earth represents the quality that supports all things, the quality of stability and solidity.
• Water represents the quality of holding together, cohesion, and gathering. When you spill water, it doesn’t scatter like dust but remains in droplets because it has a tendency to cohere.
• Fire symbolizes any process of burning or transformation from which something new always arises.
• Air represents space, but also movement and change.

So, earth supports, water flows but holds together, fire transforms, and air is space, movement, and change. These are tangible, material qualities present throughout the universe, which you can find in everything. They also do not exist separately but always exist together. One of these qualities may dominate in a particular thing, but you will always find the others.

It is said that our body is also composed of these four great elements. What would the earth element be in our body? The bones, the skeleton—the most solid, material part. And these elements, even though they are elements of form, show a kind of gradation—from more to less tangible. So, earth is the most tangible, and air is the least tangible within the realm of form. Thus, bones would represent the earth element, giving us stability. Water is all the fluids in our body (you know that 70% of the body is fluid). Fire is all the processes constantly occurring in the body, from the intracellular level to the level of every bodily system and the body as a whole. How is this manifested? Through heat. Why are we warm? Because those processes are constantly happening in the body. The process of combustion, of transformation, is constantly at work—that is the f. ire element. The air element is all the cavities in the body, the empty spaces, and, of course, the breath.

This concept of rupa skandha is interesting because it doesn’t speak of our body as something independent, whose nature is different from everything that surrounds us. The four elements in our body are no different from the four elements that constitute nature. Ultimately, we couldn’t even sustain these four elements without continuous contact with nature, with the elements in nature, and with what happens there. We must constantly eat, drink, and maintain contact to keep the elements we call our body alive. On the other hand, our bodily senses are, in a way, fine manifestations of these elements, and precisely because of their refinement, we are able to perceive the environment, the world around us, which is also composed of the four great elements (in Sanskrit, mahabhuta). So, a large part of our experience is bodily experience, but not just the experience of the body itself, but of tangibility in general, the world we live in.

2. The Heap of Sensation: Vedana Skandha

The second skandha is called vedana skandha. Vedana is a Sanskrit term denoting feelings or sensations. Again, it’s a “heap” because when we talk about feelings within vedana skandha, we say there are three: pleasant, unpleasant, and neutral (a feeling that is neither pleasant nor unpleasant). What are these sensations? They are the first reaction that occurs in the contact between us and the world around us. This contact always results in one of these three sensations.

3. The Heap of Perception: Samjna Skandha

The next skandha is called samjna. Samjna denotes the process of perception, cognition, and also recognition. Once we’ve made contact and that contact results in a pleasant, unpleasant, or neutral sensation, the process of perception kicks in. It classifies and recognizes: “Aha! This is what we’ve encountered.” So, samjna is the skandha that represents the first active reaction to the established contact. It determines what it is we’ve met and where it belongs in our internal schema of things. Its function ranges from non-recognition to partial or complete recognition.

4. The Heap of Mental Formations: Samskara Skandha

The fourth and most complex of all skandhas, the largest “heap,” is samskara skandha, the skandha of volition, of will. These are impulsive templates, we could call them. After we’ve made contact, felt a sensation, and recognized it, then, depending on the outcome of that process, samskara skandha engages, deciding what we will do about it. This is the most active part of the process, manifesting as a specific intention to do something, to act through will.

This will is expressed through three mediums: mind, speech, and body. What we intend to do, we can do on the level of the mind (thinking about it), we can say it, or we can do it physically. Samskara skandha is connected to action on these three levels.

This is incredibly important because it relates to action. And action, translated back to Sanskrit, is  karma. And action causes consequences. In other words, deeds do not die, they do not cease completely upon completion. What you have done has an echo, which can follow you and cause a whole series of phenomena you will encounter. Therefore, karma means action, and it always includes the results or retributions of that action. The law of karma is most simply explained as: every action carries its own results. If the action is useful/positive, its results will be such. If the action is negative/harmful, its results will be such. If it’s neutral, the results are neutral. This seems simple, but it’s incredibly complex because it’s not always easy to connect what happens to us with our own actions, though the connection certainly exists.

Samskara skandha is a “heap” of these mental formations or factors. They can be ethically divided into three categories:

1. Wholesome or beneficial ones—those that lead from suffering to happiness, from discord to harmony.

2. Unwholesome or harmful ones—those that lead into suffering.

3. Neutral ones—neither wholesome nor unwholesome by themselves.

All unwholesome mental events stem from three roots, considered the cause of all human suffering:

1. Ignorance (of the true nature of reality)

2. Greed or attachment 

3. Aversion or hatred

The roots of all wholesome mental events are their opposites:

1. Wisdom (as the opposite of Ignorance)

2. Generosity (as the opposite of greed)

3. Loving-kindness or benevolence (as the opposite of aversion)

An example of a neutral mental factor is repentance. In Buddhism, repentance is classified as neutral. Why? Because it can be useful or not. It is destructive if we constantly repent and live in the past with some mistake, generating a negative, destructive feeling towards ourselves. It is positive if we look at a mistake, learn a lesson from it, make a strong decision not to repeat it, and then move on without dwelling on it.

5. The Heap of Consciousness: Vijnana Skandha

The fifth skandha is vijnana skandha. This is usually translated as the skandha of consciousness. Actually, it would be best to translate vijnana as “discriminative consciousness” or discernment—consciousness that distinguishes, analyzes, differentiates one thing from another.

Vijnana skandha, in a way, includes the previous four skandhas. It is also a fundamental element that enables the previous skandhas to happen at all, that allows those mental events to manifest. If there were no consciousness, there would be no other mental events.

Early Buddhism speaks of six consciousnesses. This doesn’t mean there are six separate consciousnesses, but rather different aspects or functions of consciousness:

1. Consciousness of the seen (eye-consciousness)

2. Consciousness of the heard (ear-consciousness)

3. Consciousness of the tasted (tongue-consciousness)

4. Consciousness of the smelled (nose-consciousness)

5. Consciousness of the touched (body-consciousness)

6. Consciousness of mental objects (mind-consciousness)

In Buddhism, the mind is also understood as a sense organ. Just as the eye contacts forms and colors, the mind, as a sense organ, contacts ideas, feelings, and everything we perceive—all those skandhas we collectively call “mind.”

All these skandhas do not exist truly separately, as we have described them here, but form a whole spectrum of our experience.

Consciousness Doesn’t Exist in a Vacuum

It’s helpful to know that consciousness isn’t some permanent, independent entity. It arises dependently. For instance, visual consciousness only emerges when three things come together: an eye (the sense organ), a visible form (the object), and the consciousness itself. If you remove any one of these, visual consciousness disappears. This shows us that consciousness is a conditioned phenomenon; it doesn’t exist on its own.

This is true for all types of consciousness. In Buddhism, this entire interplay of experience is often described through a model called the eighteen entrances. It’s just another way of looking at the five aggregates. These eighteen entrances consist of:

· The six senses (sight, sound, smell, taste, touch, and the mind).

· Their six corresponding objects (forms, sounds, etc.).

· The six resulting types of consciousness that arise from contact.

That’s it! The Buddha taught that this framework describes everything about our experience. Our entire universe of experience unfolds within these eighteen entrances. They describe the interaction between us and the world. The six objects could be called the “external” world, while the senses and consciousnesses could be called the “internal.” But as we’ll see, this division itself is a creation of the ego, a distorted way of seeing reality.

Going Deeper: The Eight Consciousnesses

Now, this might seem like a lot of categories, but the goal is to simplify our human situation and understand how experience arises. Why is this so important? Because by seeing the process clearly, we can spot exactly where suffering creeps in. Is suffering a necessary part of being human, or does it stem from a glitch in our perception? To answer that, we need to see at what stage the ego gets involved, filtering information and creating a picture that no longer corresponds with reality.

The theory of the six consciousnesses comes from early Buddhism. Later, especially in the Yogacara school, it was refined into a model of eight consciousnesses. This doesn’t mean new consciousnesses were discovered, but that previously implied functions were made explicit.

So, what are these eight?

1. The first five are the senses (sight, hearing, etc.).

2. The sixth consciousness is the mind, which coordinates all the data from the first five.

3. The seventh consciousness is what we call the ego-mind. This is the one that takes all experience and appropriates it as “mine.” It creates a dualistic perspective: “me” versus “everything else.” It’s the source of inner conflict, where we say, “I am this feeling, but I don’t want it!” This split is the root of duality.

4. The eighth consciousness is called alaya vijnana, or storehouse consciousness. Think of the Himalayas, which means “abode of snow.” Similarly, alaya is the “abode of consciousness.” It’s a vast, underlying stream of consciousness that continues from life to life, containing all the karmic “seeds” of our actions.

Your Personal Karmic Storage Unit

Why is it called a storehouse? It’s the repository for all the impressions or “seeds” (bija) from our actions—good, bad, and neutral. These seeds ripen in their own time, shaping our lives.

The seventh consciousness (the ego) is like a gatekeeper, responsible for planting these seeds in the eighth. It bases its existence on the alaya, mistakenly seeing it as a permanent self or soul. But the alaya is not a fixed entity; it’s a constantly flowing river of seeds ripening and new ones being planted.

This is why our actions are so crucial. How we act is like watering seeds. Negative actions water negative seeds, which will bear fruit. Positive actions water positive seeds. But the goal isn’t just to be “good” to get a better reward. A good ego is better than a bad one, but it’s still an ego! And because it’s based on duality (good vs. bad), that “good” can easily turn.

The ultimate point is to see through the illusion of the self altogether. No interpretation of reality, not even a “good” one, is as liberating as seeing reality itself, free from the ego’s filter.

The Wise Way to Handle Life’s Arrows

So, how do we apply this? There’s a wise saying: if someone hits you with a stick, anger arose in them, they picked up the stick and hit you—but you brought your body there. We can’t always blame others for what happens to us. Their actions are their karma; how we respond is ours.

The most skilful way to understand hardship is to see it as the result of our own past unskillful actions. This isn’t about guilt, but about empowerment. When you understand it this way, your relationship to the event changes. You’re free to respond in a fresh, mindful way instead of an unconscious, reactive one.

The Buddha compared this to being hit by an arrow. If you get hit by one arrow, the sensible thing is to deal with the wound. But if you then get angry about the injustice and shoot yourself with a second arrow of blame and despair, you’ve doubled your suffering. Don’t be a double victim!

The same goes for good fortune. Don’t get swept away by euphoria. There’s a story about a beggar who won the lottery. In his euphoria, he stored the ticket in his old beggar’s staff, threw all his clothes into a river, and finally tossed the staff away too—losing everything.

So, in happy times, remember it’s not a random gift but the fruit of past good actions. In difficult times, avoid despair. Simply meet the challenge in front of you without blaming others or yourself. See the situation clearly, free from the clouds of emotion, and you can act with clarity and freedom.

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This text is based on the second lecture from the four-part series “Who Am I?” by teacher Žarko Andričević, held in Zagreb on February 25, 2007.