The Buddha often refused to answer vague and unprofitable questions, which he called avyākata, meaning “undeclared,” neither affirming nor denying them. These were not seen as irrelevant but were deliberately left unanswered because they do not directly lead to relief from suffering.

Such questions include enduring speculative puzzles, such as whether the universe is eternal or not, whether the self is identical with the body, whether, upon death, the liberated being continues to exist, or whether there is or is not a soul.

Refusing to assert or deny is not a sign of ignorance. Instead, it is a compassionate and practical response. Engaging in such speculation often causes people to become trapped in mental loops, confusing permanence with impermanence, fixating on views, and polarising eternalism, such as the idea of some permanent essence, against annihilationism, which is the belief that selfhood ends at death.

Both extremes can hinder clarity, tranquillity, and dispassion, ultimately preventing freedom from suffering.

We all go through suffering. This isn't a moral judgment, but a basic fact of being human. The Buddha clearly described it: beginnings, ageing, illness, and death; not getting what we want; being separated from loved ones; and facing difficult people and situations. Even more fundamentally, the very framework of our experience, including our bodies, feelings, perceptions, mental patterns, and awareness, shows signs of suffering when examined. These are not abstract concepts but everyday realities. Life brings us loss, frustration, and vulnerability.

And when suffering occurs, our instinctive response is often to look outward. We search for someone or something to blame. We believe that if we could only improve external conditions, such as our job, house, or relationship, then the pain would finally subside.

It’s not entirely wrong. External factors do matter. But suffering is seldom solely about them.

The word confession carries considerable weight. For many, it evokes images of dark booths, whispered sins, and the heavy burden of judgment. It has long been associated with guilt, penance, and the hope of absolution, something endured rather than embraced.

Yet confession can be something entirely different. It need not be a ritual of humiliation or an expression of shame. At its best, confession is an act of bravery, more about honesty than guilt. And as the Buddha reminded us, “Three things cannot be long hidden: the sun, the moon, and the truth.”

Humiliation is seldom welcomed. It strikes like a sting, a collapse, a wound to the identity we spend our lives shaping. Yet, suppose we are willing to face it with courage and curiosity. In that case, humiliation can become an unexpected gateway to humility, not the false humility of performance or religious virtue, but the humility that emerges when the self-protective shell cracks, letting something more honest shine through.

In the Acrobat Sutta, the Buddha presents a simple yet striking image: two acrobats performing a balancing act, one standing on the shoulders of the other. The teacher says to the student, “You look after me, and I’ll look after you. If we protect one another, we’ll perform our tricks, earn a reward, and come down safely.”

The Buddha gently reimagines the scene. “It is not in watching after the other that one protects the other,” he says. “By watching after oneself, one protects the other and by watching after the other, one also protects oneself.”

What if we reimagined confession as an act of immense psychological courage and profound human generosity? What if confession were not about proving our unworthiness, but about uncovering the truth of our humanity?

There is an aesthetic in the world that whispers rather than shouts. It does not gleam with newness or symmetry; it beckons from the worn, the weathered, and the unpolished. This is Wabi Sabi — a Japanese sensibility that honours transience, simplicity, and the imperfect nature of all things.

The convergence of Sigmund Freud's Drive Theory, Charles Darwin's Theory of Evolution, and Buddhist philosophy offer a template for understanding human behaviour and consciousness. Each of these frameworks, while arising from different contexts and disciplines, intersects at critical points, providing a perspective on the nature of human existence.