Sunday, 3 July 2016


Knowing the World (Part 2)

In practicing Dhamma, we will meet with many sorts of experiences, such as fear. What will we rely on then? When the mind is wrapped up in fear, it can’t find anything to rely on. This is something I’ve gone through; the deluded mind stuck in fear, unable to find a safe place anywhere. So where can this be settled? It gets settled right at that place where it appears. Wherever it arises, that is where it ceases. Wherever the mind has fear, it can end fear right there. Putting it simply: when the mind is completely full of fear, it has nowhere else to go, and it can stop right there. The place of no fear is there in the place of fear. Whatever states the mind undergoes, if it experiences nimitta, visions, or knowledge in meditation, for example, it doesn’t matter – we are taught to focus awareness on this mind in the present. That is the standard. Don’t chase after external phenomena. All the things we contemplate come to conclusion at the source, the place where they arise. This is where the causes are. This is important.

Feeling fear is a good example, since it’s easy to see; if we let ourselves experience it until it has nowhere to go, then we will have no more fear, because it will be exhausted. It loses its power, so we don’t feel fear anymore. Not feeling fear means it has become empty. We accept whatever comes our way, and it loses its power over us.

This is what the Buddha wanted us to place our trust in; he wanted us not to be attached to our own views, not to be attached to others’ views. This is really important. We are aiming at the knowledge that comes from realization of the truth, so we don’t want to get stuck in attachment to our own or others’ views and opinions. But when we have our ideas or interact with others, watching them contact the mind can be illuminating. Knowledge can be born in those things that we have and experience.

In watching the mind and cultivating meditation, there can be many points of wrong understanding or deviation. Some people focus on conditions of mind and want to analyze them excessively, so their minds are always active. Or maybe we examine the five khandhā, or we go into further detail with the thirty-two parts of the body; there are many such classifications that are taught for contemplation. So we ponder and we analyze. Looking at the five khandhā doesn’t seem to get us to any conclusion, so we might go into the thirty-two parts, always analyzing and investigating. But the way I see it, our attitude towards these five khandhā, these heaps that we see right here, should be one of weariness and disenchantment, because they don’t follow our wishes. I think that’s probably enough. If they survive, we shouldn’t be overly joyful to the point of forgetting ourselves. If they break up, we shouldn’t be overly dejected by that. Recognizing this much should be enough. We don’t have to tear apart the skin, the flesh, and the bones.

This is something I’ve often talked about. Some people have to analyze like that, even if they are looking at a tree. Students in particular want to know what merit and demerit are, what form they have, what they look like. I explain to them that these things have no form. Merit is in our having correct understanding, correct attitude. But they want to know everything so clearly in such great detail.

So I’ve used the example of a tree. The students will look at a tree, and they want to know all about the parts of the tree. Well, a tree has roots, it has leaves. It lives because of the roots. The students have to know, how many roots does it have? Major roots, minor roots, branches, leaves, they want to know all the details and numbers. Then they will feel they have clear knowledge about the tree. But the Buddha said that a person who wants such knowledge is actually pretty stupid. These things aren’t necessary to know. Just knowing that there are roots and leaves is sufficient. Do you want to count all the leaves on a tree? If you look at one leaf, you should be able to get the picture.

It’s the same with people. If we know ourselves, then we understand all people in the universe without having to go and observe them. The Buddha wanted us to look at ourselves. As we are, so are others. We are all sāmaññalakkhaṇa, all being of the same characteristics. All saṅkhārā are like this.

So we practice samādhi to be able to give up the defilements, to give birth to knowledge and vision and let go of the five khandhā. Sometimes people talk about samatha. Sometimes they talk about vipassanā. I feel this can become confusing. Those who practise samādhi will praise samādhi. But, it is just for making the mind tranquil so it can know those things we have been talking about.

Then there are those who will say, ‘I don’t need to practice samādhi so much. This plate will break one day in the future. Isn’t that good enough? That will work, won’t it? I’m not very skilled in samādhi, but I already know that the plate must break someday. Yes, I take good care of it, because I’m afraid it will break, but I know that such is its future, and when it does break, I won’t be suffering over that. Isn’t my view correct? I don’t need to practice a lot of samādhi, because I already have this understanding. You practice samādhi only for developing this understanding. After training your mind through sitting, you came to this view. I don’t sit much, but I am already confident that this is the way of phenomena.’

This is a question for us practitioners. There are many factions of teachers promoting their different methods of meditation. It can get confusing. But the real point of it all is to be able to recognize the truth, seeing things as they really are and being free of doubt.

As I see it, once we have correct knowledge, the mind comes under our command. What is this command about? The command is in anicca, knowing that everything is impermanent. Everything stops here when we see clearly, and it becomes the cause for us to let go. Then we let things be, according to their nature. If nothing is occurring, we abide in equanimity, and if something comes up, we contemplate: does it cause us to have suffering? Do we hold onto it with grasping attachment? Is there anything there? This is what supports and sustains our practice. If we practice and get to this point, I think every one of us will realize genuine peace.

Whether we are undertaking vipassanā meditation or samatha meditation, just this is what it’s really about. But these days, it seems to me that when Buddhists talk about these things according to the traditional explanations, it becomes vague and mixed up. But the truth (saccadhamma) isn’t vague or mixed up. It remains as it is.

So I feel it’s better to seek out the source, looking at the way things originate in the mind. There’s not a lot to this.

Birth, ageing, illness, and death: it’s brief, but it’s a universal truth. So see it clearly and acknowledge these facts. If you acknowledge them, you will be able to let go. Gain, rank, praise, happiness, and their opposites – you can let them go, because you recognize them for what they are.

If we reach this place of ‘recognizing truth’, we will be uncomplicated, undemanding people, content with simple food, dwelling, and other requisites for life, easy to speak to and unassuming in our actions. Without difficulty or trouble, we will live at ease. One who meditates and realizes a tranquil mind will be like this.

At present we are trying to practice in the way of the Buddha and his disciples. Those beings had achieved awakening, yet they still maintained their practice as long as they were living. They acted for the benefit of themselves and for the benefit of others, yet even after they had accomplished all that they could, they still kept up their practice, seeking their own and others’ well-being in various ways. I think we should take them as the model for our practice. It means not becoming complacent – that was their deeply ingrained nature. They never slackened their efforts. Effort was their way, their natural habit. Such is the character of the sages, of genuine practitioners.

If we want to take a break or get some rest, we will find rest in the practice itself. Once we’ve practiced to get to the goal, know the goal, and be the goal, then when we are active, there’s no way to incur loss or be harmed. When we are sitting still, there is no way we can be harmed. In all situations, nothing can affect us. Practice has matured to fulfilment and we have reached the destination. Maybe today we don’t have a chance to sit and practice samādhi, but we are OK. Samādhi doesn’t mean only sitting. There can be samādhi in all postures. If we are really practicing in all postures, we will enjoy samādhi thus. There won’t be anything that can interfere. Such words as ‘I’m not in a clear state of mind now, so I can’t practice’ will not be heard. We won’t have such ideas; we will never feel that way. Our practice is well developed and complete – this is how it should be. When we are free of doubt and perplexity, we stop at this point and contemplate.

You can look into this: self-view, sceptical doubt, superstitious attachment to rites and rituals. The first step is to get free of these. The mind needs to get free of whatever sort of knowledge you gain. What are they like now? To what extent do we still have them? We are the only ones who can know this; we have to know for ourselves. Who else can know better than we? If we are stuck in attachment to self-view, doubt, superstition here, have doubt here, are still groping here, then there is the conception of self here. But now we can only think, if there is no self, then who is it that takes interest and practices?

All these things go together. If we come to know them through practice and make an end of them, we live in an ordinary way. Just like the Buddha and the Ariyas. They lived just like worldly beings (puthujjana). They used the same language as worldly beings. Their everyday existence wasn’t really different. They used many of the same conventions. Where they differed was that they didn’t create suffering for themselves with their minds. They had no suffering. This is the crucial point; they went beyond suffering, extinguishing suffering. Nibbāna means ‘extinguishing’. Extinguishing suffering, extinguishing heat and torment, extinguishing doubt and anxiety.

There’s no need to be in doubt about the practice. Whenever there is doubt about something, don’t have doubt about the doubt – look directly at it and crush it like that.
(The Teachings of Ajahn Chah)

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