The journey toward self-understanding and spiritual fulfillment often begins with the aspiration to transform, to shed perceived flaws and embody idealized qualities. For many, practices like Buddhism offer a structured path to this transformation, promising a shift from a state of insecurity and dissatisfaction to one of patience, love, and confidence. However, as author Susan Piver recounts in her exploration of "The Buddhist Enneagram," the reality of spiritual practice can diverge significantly from these initial expectations, leading to profound insights not through eradication of the self, but through its unvarnished acceptance and examination.
Piver’s narrative begins with a personal struggle, a protracted period of dedicated Buddhist practice that failed to yield the expected personal metamorphosis. After years of meditation, she found herself still grappling with the very traits she had hoped to transcend: grouchiness, insecurity, and a persistent sense of neediness. This internal resistance to change, the tenacious presence of her "self," became a source of embarrassment and renewed effort. The more she strived to become someone else, the more stubbornly she remained herself, clinging to the hope that one day, through diligent practice, she would finally "break through" to her idealized self.
The turning point, as described in her work, arrived not through a moment of spiritual ecstasy, but through a profound act of surrender. Sitting down for a meditation session, weary and disillusioned, Piver experienced a visceral rejection of her practice. Instead of approaching the cushion with serenity and anticipation, she directed an expletive-laden outburst at the very symbol of her spiritual pursuit, declaring, "Fuck you, you fucking fuck. Stop taunting me… I GIVE UP. I’m not going to meditate anymore, not for. One. More. Second. I’m just going to sit here and . . . and . . . and . . . BE MYSELF." This moment of radical acceptance, of relinquishing all ambition and striving, paradoxically led to a sense of release. The expected outcome of meditation—a transformation into a "worthy and lovable" person—was replaced by a discovery of inherent worthiness and love that was present all along, simply obscured by the effort to attain it.
This paradigm shift, from seeking to change oneself to seeking to understand oneself without agenda, forms the core of Piver’s exploration of the intersection between Buddhist principles and the Enneagram system. Both, she posits, empower through "awareness without agenda." When an agenda is imposed—the desire to "change, be better, do more, feel otherwise"—the desired qualities, such as wisdom, love, and creative self-expression, recede. These, she argues, are not crafted through effort but are "sensed, felt, discovered rather than crafted," arriving on the "winds of receptivity rather than effort."
The Roadblock of the Conventional Mind
Piver identifies the conventional mind, often referred to as the "ego," as a significant impediment to this receptive discovery. She expresses a nuanced view of the term "ego," noting its frequent misuse to imply self-negation. Instead, she asserts that the "self" is the fundamental basis for all discovery. "What else do you have?" she asks, emphasizing that attempts to ignore or vanquish the self are ultimately counterproductive.
Three Pillars of Practice: Shila, Samadhi, and Prajna
Drawing from Buddhist teachings, Piver introduces three foundational qualities for working with the self on the path to enlightenment: shila (ethical conduct), samadhi (absorption), and prajna (wisdom). She then proposes that these principles can be powerfully applied through the lens of the Enneagram, creating what she terms "Ennea-shila," "Ennea-samadhi," and "Ennea-prajna."
Ennea-shila: The Painful Liberation of Seeing Oneself
Ennea-shila, described as potentially the most challenging yet liberating aspect, begins with the practice of "seeing yourself." This involves observing oneself without the distortions of external expectations, cultural norms, or familial conditioning. Piver prompts readers to question whether they genuinely desire to see themselves, acknowledging that "I don’t know" is often the most honest response.
She illustrates this point with a personal anecdote about her childhood struggles with academic performance. Despite flunking eighth grade and barely graduating high school, she was told she wasn’t "stupid," a backhanded compliment that fueled her sense of failure. This narrative of perceived inadequacy persisted until 2007, when she "FLUNKED" meditation instructor training. This experience, the sole failure among over forty qualified participants, reignited the old shame and frustration.
A subsequent battery of intelligence tests, advised by a therapist, revealed her to be highly kinesthetic in her learning style, explaining her academic difficulties and her aptitude for physical activities. This discovery was profoundly liberating. It allowed her to shed the "lenses" of past educational theories and parental disappointment, seeing herself as simply "me," neither smarter nor stupider than anyone else. This self-acceptance, she concludes, is the beginning of ethical conduct, emphasizing the moral that "You are just who you are. Period."
The process of examining one’s "ego"—the collection of ideas about oneself—is crucial. While some spiritual traditions advocate for ego destruction, Piver argues that this often leads to self-hatred and the dismissal of vital experiences like desire, rage, and joy. Instead, she proposes that the potential for freedom from ego is intrinsically linked to its existence. The journey requires a nuanced approach: turning toward oneself, seeing clearly, and loving oneself rather than pushing the self aside.
The Enneagram, in this context, describes nine "ego matrices" or "blocks" that represent who we think we are. While these blocks are partially accurate, they also obscure our true nature. Piver uses her own "go-to state," melancholy, as an example of such a block—a seemingly soulful state that offers a comfortable exemption from the world. She likens these "fixations" or "blocks" to a bird signaling proximity to shore, indicating that one is not far from liberation. Instead of "believing" the fixation, she suggests interpreting it as an invitation home, to what lies beyond the block. She posits that "Thinking Ego Is the Enemy Is the Enemy" might be a more accurate framing, advocating for self-love, including one’s "impenetrable ego and indestructible buddhanature," as the foundation of ethical conduct.
Ennea-samadhi: Unplugging the Inner Projector
Ennea-samadhi is likened to a video camera with a non-recording lens. It involves observing reality without the imprints of personal imaginings, projections, or editing. Piver illustrates this with an anecdote about a friend whose relationships seemed to repeat a pattern, with each new partner exhibiting the same communication issues and emotional responses as previous ones. This, she explains, is not necessarily a matter of dating the same person, but of projecting one’s "inner movie"—a script written by past experiences—onto each new encounter.
Samadhi, in the Buddhist tradition, is not about replacing a bad movie with a good one, but about "turning the projector off. Completely." Chögyam Trungpa Rinpoche defines it as the ability to "work properly in your world and in your particular state of being," developing control over one’s mind and its products. This means recognizing the mind’s tricks and not mistaking them for reality.
The Enneagram offers a valuable tool for this process by creating space to see others independently of our projections. Realizing that our projections stem from our internal narrative rather than external reality fosters self-compassion and patience. The greater gift, however, lies in increased compassion and patience for others. When someone misunderstands or reacts in a way that seems illogical, it is often an expression of their own "playlist of projections," not a personal slight. Piver uses her husband’s analytical approach to problems as an example, recognizing it as a "One’s" need for order rather than a criticism of her more pragmatic, repair-focused approach.
By understanding one’s own "wiring" and how others are wired, interactions become "more intimate and less personal." This deeper understanding allows for a greater ability to "rest within each interaction," moving towards the realm of samadhi. The Enneagram, in this regard, facilitates a profound shift in perception, enabling one to see individuals for who they are, not merely as characters in one’s own internal drama.
Ennea-prajna: The Double-Edged Sword of Wisdom
Ennea-prajna, or wisdom, is depicted as a double-edged sword that cuts through delusion. In Buddhist philosophy, this sword severs both the delusion of duality and the illusion of a separate, experiencing self. While the ultimate nature of this profound wisdom remains elusive for the unenlightened, Piver suggests a practical application: cutting through the deluded view that one’s interpretations of others’ behavior are always accurate and that one’s interpretive mechanisms are flawless.
The "sword" is brought down by releasing projections onto others, and brought up by cutting through those projections altogether. This process allows for a more objective understanding of interpersonal dynamics.
Piver concludes her exploration by emphasizing the Enneagram’s rich, accurate, and nuanced nature. Unlike other typological systems that categorize, the Enneagram’s purpose is liberation. By fostering a deeper capacity to love oneself, others, and all beings, it guides individuals toward a more profound relationship with themselves and the world around them. The Enneagram, she suggests, is not about finding flaws, but about recognizing that what appears "wrong" is often the very path to liberation from it.
The underlying message is one of acceptance and compassionate inquiry. The pursuit of spiritual enlightenment or personal growth is not about becoming someone else, but about fully inhabiting and understanding the self that already exists, recognizing its inherent worth and the potential for liberation embedded within its very nature. The Enneagram, when approached with an open, agenda-free awareness, serves as a potent guide on this journey, revealing that the path to profound connection and wisdom is paved with honest self-observation and a willingness to embrace the entirety of one’s being.
