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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