Before Buddha, He was a Prince

The story of Siddhartha Gautama, the man who became the Buddha, is peddled as a tale of selfless renunciation. A prince, bored with his Playstation and limitless buffet, decides to ditch the palace and find himself.

How noble. How utterly convenient.

Let's strip away the gilded narrative and face the uncomfortable truth: Siddhartha was a man-child playing philosopher in a life of unparalleled luxury.

His "search for truth" was less a burning existential need and more a privileged pastime, a gap year financed by daddy's kingdom.

Imagine this pampered prince, shielded from the slightest discomfort, suddenly deciding that suffering is, like, a real bummer. His grand revelation? Life is tough. Newsflash, your highness: Try telling that to the starving peasant who can't afford to ponder the intricacies of the Eightfold Path because he's too busy trying not to die.

This isn't to say enlightenment is invalid, but context matters.

It's easy to achieve nirvana when your biggest problem is choosing between silk or satin sheets.

Try meditating on impermanence when your house is literally on fire. The mind, confronted with immediate survival, has little patience for existential angst.

So, the Buddha's journey becomes less about selfless awakening and more about a sheltered prince finally noticing the world beyond his manicured gardens. The suffering he encountered wasn't a revelation, it was a rude awakening. A slap in the face with the reality he had been shielded from his entire life.

And his solution? Transcend it all. Escape the messy, uncomfortable reality of human existence. A convenient solution for a man who had a taste of the real world and promptly decided it wasn't for him.

But what about the rest of us, trapped in that burning house? Those without the luxury of escaping into philosophical contemplation?

Their suffering is no less valid, their search for meaning no less desperate. But their path is forged in the fires of necessity, not the leisurely pursuit of enlightenment.

The Buddha's teachings offer a path to liberation, but it's a path paved with privilege, inaccessible to those consumed by the very suffering he sought to escape. And that, perhaps, is the cruelest joke of all.

A gilded cage offering freedom to those who never knew true imprisonment.

So, the next time you hear about the enlightened prince, remember the inherent absurdity.

Remember the millions still trapped in that burning house, their cries for meaning drowned out by the chants of those who could afford to leave.

And ask yourself: is enlightenment truly selfless, or just another form of escape?