Practical problems & Philosophical answers

Buddhism is presented not as religion or philosophy, but as a practical approach to lived experience. Ideas often fail in moments of real crisis. By questioning “I” and “mine,” the talk shows that ownership depends on control, which is unstable. Much suffering arises from mistaken ownership rather than reality itself.

boy holdingbook
boy holdingbook

People often say Buddhism is either a religion or a philosophy, but I disagree with both. When we look closely, philosophy is usually a collection of answers that people endlessly debate, while religion tends to offer fixed answers that cannot be questioned. Buddhism doesn’t quite fit either category. It isn’t dogmatic like a religion, but it also isn’t an abstract, armchair philosophy meant only for debate.

Philosophical answers are easy to give—as long as the problem belongs to someone else. When the problem is truly mine, philosophy alone doesn’t help much. What really matters is whether something can be applied in real life, in moments of fear, loss, or crisis. If a teaching cannot help when the brakes fail on a mountain road, then it remains only an idea, not a living practice.

This leads to a deeper question: Who is this “I” that has problems? What do I call “me” and “mine”? Ownership seems closely tied to control. We say something is mine when we can influence it—our home, our room, our body. As control decreases, so does our sense of ownership. Countries, communities, teams, even identities expand or shrink depending on the situation, alliances, and perceived threats. The boundary of “me” keeps shifting.

As we look closer, we realize that very little is fully under our control—not our surroundings, not our bodies, and not even our minds. If ownership depends on control, then we may not truly own as much as we think. And yet, we worry constantly.

So instead of immediately trying to solve “my problems,” the invitation is to pause and examine who this “I” really is, and what we mean by “mine.” Perhaps some of the burdens we carry are not truly ours. This reflection itself becomes the practice.