The Guiding Principle (Part 2)

The way things are now, some of you might think that this temple is very strict and very resolute, and very rigorous and scrupulous. This is because you haven’t seen how I practiced in the past. The laypersons applaud this monastery as being unsurpassed by any other monastery, concerning our strict observance of the rules and the discipline, of orderliness and cleanliness, and of the bhikkhus who are obedient, and well-behaved, not showing any signs of transgression and mischief. This is how they sing our praises. But we should not indulge in this sort of compliment, for I have really been very lax with all of you. And what is the reason for this slackness? It is simply because there are just a lot of you now, and this laxness is the natural consequence of it. When there are more of you, then this laxness increases, and the amount of the gifts and the living requisites also increases correspondingly, as you all can see. But our practice and exertion does not become more rigorous and intensive.

There are also a lot more people that come into contact and involvement with the monastery. So the more people there are, the more work there is. But there isn’t much that we can do about it, as this is their faith and conviction. They come voluntarily, and nobody can prevent them from doing this. The amount of food that we are getting nowadays is grossly in abundance. This excess of the living requisites, and of the gifts and offerings, can weigh down on the practice of mind development. If one is not careful, one will steadily degenerate, without any doubt. For this reason, the practitioner must always see the harm of these things, and must not become too involved. If he does, he will be buried by them and his Dhamma virtue destroyed. He will never progress. We must, therefore, be vigilant.

Meditation practice is extremely vital for mental development. We must be courageous, firm, conscientious, and resolute, not weak or discouraged. Otherwise, we will fail and not achieve any beneficial results. We have to always remind ourselves that every type of kilesa is extremely tenacious. They are far more clever and cunning than we are. If we act foolishly and practice heedlessly and senselessly, then we will never be able to subdue or eliminate any of the kilesas, because they will always be more powerful, shrewd and crafty than we are, and that is why they are our master. We might think that we are the masters, but truly, we are not. We are just the kilesas’ servants without knowing it. All of our thoughts are initiated by the kilesas. They direct us to think in a way that will generate a lot of agitation and confusion, brew up hatred and aversion. Love and anger are the kilesas’ creations. Can we not see that they are perilous and harmful? How can we consider ourselves more clever than them, and capable of outwitting them? We are always following their lead every time that we think. We never realize that hatred is just the work of the kilesas. We never realize that anger is also the work of the kilesas. The same with love and aversion. We are not aware that they are the strategy of the kilesas that push and propel these things into being. But if we know this at every moment, then the kilesas can definitely be subdued. This is a very crucial point for the practitioner. We must constantly keep this well in mind.

We have to realize that there is a very great difference in skill and aptitude between ourselves and the kilesas. With what can the kilesas be conquered? It is nothing else but our saddhā, conviction, sati, mindfulness, paññā, discernment and viriya, our diligent effort, acting as the support. Sati is terribly important. Paññā is the tool that does the work of analysis and examination, countering and contending with the kilesas. Sati is the overseer, making sure that we do not lose our guard. And when we have been relentlessly developing and exerting ourselves, then sati will become highly developed. It will then become sampajañña, constant awareness. This is the outgrowth of mindfulness. After sampajañña, it will become mahāsati.

The same applies to pañña, which starts with difficulty in the beginning. Please don’t have the understanding that paññā will arise by itself. We have to devise various ways of thinking, contemplation and analysis that are versatile and many-sided. In whatever way we can subdue and calm the kilesas and eliminate them, that way is Dhamma. This is the paññā-dhamma. We must not rely entirely on the scriptures, otherwise we will turn into worms eating up the paper. All the Dhamma that the Lord Buddha taught came out of his heart. The Dhamma is found within the heart.

Sati-paññā is also found within the heart. We have to bring them out. We have to produce them. Then we will be able to see into the principle of cause and effect, and use it to contend with the kilesas that are extremely cunning and clever. They are always the master in every instant of our thinking and concocting, and during every moment of contact through the eyes, ears, nose, tongue, and body, which all converge and become the dhammārammaṇa, mental objects right within the heart. These are all the works of the kilesas. The reason why we still cannot see the danger of the kilesas is because we are still a lot more foolish than they are. If we are a lot wiser, then when they begin to concoct, we will be aware of them. As soon as they concoct, we will know. We have to strive in this way, and then the result will be as I have just said, without any doubt.

We have to be constantly developing and training our mind. The practice of fasting is a very good way of reducing restlessness and agitation. It is one means of supporting our exertion. The fasting practitioner must be careful every time he fasts. It happened to me before, and I am giving you some precautions. In the beginning stages of fasting, the mind will become consistently cool and calm; the mind is fully possessed with mindfulness and one is hardly ever off-guard. But when one takes some food, then one become unmindful and inattentive, which is something quite normal. When we fast again the result might not be like before. Instead of becoming cool and calm, we become disappointed and saddened. The mind now yearns for the past result and neglects the work at hand, which is the establishing of mindfulness. Thinking of the past has now replaced it, and therefore, the results are not forthcoming. We have to cut off this yearning and concentrate on developing mindfulness. Whatever has happened in the past, however firm and stable the mind was before, it has already happened. They were the results gained from our exertion, the same kind of exertion that we are now putting forth, which is the establishing of mindfulness. These results cannot come forth by any other means.

We must stay in the present. Don’t rake up the past by hankering for the past results. However lofty they might have been, we must now forget them. Don’t think of them, for they will just agitate and disturb the heart. We will then not be able to attain calm. Then there will just be regret and frustration, and grumbling and complaining that this is not like before. This is one form of hindrance. For this reason, I am exhorting you not to become involved with thinking about what happened in the past. We must remain in the present and ask ourselves: ‘How am I doing? Why is the mind not calm?’ We must focus our attention here.

If we cannot take hold of the knowing, then we must not abandon our mantra or parikamma object. Wherever we go, we have to stay close to the mind. Keep the mind constantly concentrating on the mantra, using it as the meditation subject. Whatever it may be, be it ‘Buddho’ or ‘aṭṭhi’ or ‘kesā’, ‘lomā’, ‘nakhā’, ‘dantā’, or ‘taco’, keep the mind concentrating and holding on to it. Don’t let the mind think about other things. If we are not mindful, the kilesas will then direct it to think about other things. When we are mindful of the mantra, the mind will then become calm. This is the key to a successful practice. In the beginning stages, when we try to establish calm, it is quite difficult. But no matter how hard it is, we must not let it bother us. We must consider our exertion to be free from dukkha extremely vital for us and we have to continually exert ourselves.

We have to develop mindfulness until it becomes stable, continuous and persistent. When the time is appropriate for paññā to do the work of investigation and analysis, we must then do it using both the internal and the external as the objects of investigation and comparison. Magga can be found in both the internal and the external. Paññā can be found both internally and externally, if one just develops it so that it actually becomes paññā, which is also called the magga. And what aspect are we going to investigate in the light of aniccaṁ or impermanence, for instance? We can take the external as the objects of investigation, and then compare it with the internal. This can be done. Or we can compare the internal with the external, for in fact they are one and the same thing. There is no difference between them concerning aniccaṁ, dukkhaṁ, and anattā, or asubha, loathsomeness, or paṭikkūla, filth and impurity. They can be found, both internally and externally, in all men and women, people and animals.

We can investigate and analyze in any way that we devise, at any appropriate time. But when we develop calm, we must solely concentrate on calming the mind, using a mantra or ānāpānasati, mindfulness of breathing as our meditation subject, that suits our temperament and character. The work must be flowing continuously, having sati constantly supervising. Then our knowing will continuously flow with the work. Once the knowing is in perpetual contact with the meditation subject, and the mind doesn’t have any chance to wander here and there, the mental stream will then steadily converge into the centre of calm. It now becomes the unique and distinctive feature of the mind. When this feature becomes more apparent, the mind will become calmer. All the thinking and concocting will gradually diminish. The recollection of the mantra will also decrease. What takes its place now is this very distinctive knowing. Whether we recollect the mantra or not, this knowing will still remain. This is what is meant by the mind converging into itself and ‘becoming itself’. This is the calming of the mind.

You have to really and earnestly concentrate in doing this work. Dhamma is the most supreme and wonderful thing, unsurpassed by any other thing. The kilesas are ignoble, despicable, filthy and corrupt. When we haven’t yet seen and experienced this marvellous Dhamma, we have nothing to compare the kilesas with. So we always follow the kilesas, always believe them, and let them rock us to sleep. But when we have something to compare it with, then we can see that the kilesas are fake. Dhamma will then become real, and become the truth. It will then compete with the kilesas. We will then gradually let go of the kilesas, and see the harm of every kind of kilesa at every moment. This is because we now have the Dhamma as a comparison and as a competitor. Whether it is the calm or the discerning ability of the heart, whatever level of calm it is and however brilliant and subtle paññā may be, all of them are Dhamma. These dhammas are the competitors of the kilesas. We will get to know immediately the difference between the Dhamma and the kilesas, concerning the benefits, ease, comforts, and happiness that they can provide. This is how it will be for all practitioners who do not relent in their exertion, and who strive in ridding all the kilesas from their heart. They achieve this by the power of the Dhamma. The taste of Dhamma excels all other tastes. All other tastes are nothing but the taste of the kilesas. What else can they be? Whatever flavor it may be, it is usually the flavor of the kilesas.

(Ajahn Maha Boowa “Forest Desanas”)