At home in the house of the living
PAX
All that matters is to be at one with the living God
To be a creature in the house of the God of Life.
Like a cat asleep on a chair
at peace, in peace
and at one with the master of the house, with the
mistress
at home, at home in the house of the living,
sleeping on the hearth, and yawning before the fire.
Sleeping on the hearth of the living world,
yawning at home before the fire of life
feeling the presence of the living God
like a great reassurance
a deep calm in the heart
a presence
as of a master sitting at the board
in his own and greater being,
in the house of life.
– by D.H. Lawrence
To be grateful is to be open to the mystery
We could say we are all searching for something. We sometimes receive a glimpse of a something which seems to be very much like the something we are looking for, but this something initally doesn’t act in a way we have been led to believe the something we are searching for would behave. This something seems to be always available, yet we cannot grasp it.
Perhaps this something flows like fluids and electrolytes between the extracellular and intracellular compartments in cells by passive diffusion. Could it be that this something, like water, flows from an area of high concentration to an area of less concentration?
The fullness of awareness, of presence, of joy flows into us to the degree we become empty.
T.S. Elliot put it this way:
In order to possess what you do not possess,
you must go by way of dispossession.
In order to arrive at what you are not
you must go by the way in which you are not.
Aren’t there moments when seemingly out of the blue we get a glimpse of the ground of our being?
Perhaps the experience, however fleeting, leave us somehow knowing intuitively that we are both at home here and now and yet somehow on the way to this here and now.
This is not about either or but rather and.
Could this be the starting point and the end of the spiritual journey?
Again, T. S. Elliot:
….the end precedes the beginning,
and the end and the beginning we always there
Before the beginning and after the end.
And all is always now….
We seem to have two aspects of the experience of the something we are searching for–it’s here and it isn’t.
It’s here when we are open and empty to it, as if simply flows in like water from a place of greater concentration to a quiet heart.
But while there it can’t be grasped.
This is where the experience of the Christian mystics is so illuminating–they speak in all the world’s languages of God’s immanence (being closer to me than I am to myself) and Her transcendence—(beyond the beyond, beyond time, space, birth, death).
Let’s hear what the the Rinzai Master Hakuin said about this in 18th century Japan:
Living beings originally are Buddha.
It is the same with water and ice.
There is no ice separate from water;
Outside of living beings, no Buddha.
Because living beings are unconscious of the intimate,
They seek it far away. Alas how pitiful!
It is like the examples of someone sitting in the middle of water
But crying out in thirst; and,
While still being the son of a millionaire’s family,
As a strange good-for-nothing he loses his way in the countryside living in poverty.
The causes and conditions of the revolving wheel of the six appearances
Are but one’s own road through the darkness of ignorance;
The several perfections such as charity, morality, and such;
Chanting Buddha’s name, confession and repentance, austerities, and the like;
The many good deeds and various virtuous pilgrimages;
All these are coming from within it.
“Tied together in a single garment of destiny”
I am not sure how many of us saw President-elect Obama’s victory speech last night. Or how many of us that did have this honor did so with dry eyes. Kupai, my six year old son, came to me during this speech with huge tears in his eyes. I though he had hurt himself, possibly stubbed his toe, but no, he was overcome with emotion.
Tonight, Wednesday November 5, at our weekly meeting from 6 to 7:30 PM, I would like to take some time to reflect on the ways that President-elect Obama’s message of hope and mature realism interweaves with our spiritual practice of yoga and meditation.
I can’t help but reach back in time to another eloquent transformation figure. In a remarkable speech he called Remaining awake Through a Great Revolution, which he made on March 13, 1968, at the National Cathedral in Washington, D.C., The Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. uttered these words:
“Through our scientific and technological genius, we have made of this world a neighborhood and yet we have not had the ethical commitment to make of it a brotherhood.
But somehow, and in some way, we have got to do this. We must all learn to live together as brothers or we will all perish together as fools.
We are tied together in the single garment of destiny, caught in an inescapable network of mutuality. And whatever affects one directly affects all indirectly. For some strange reason I can never be what I ought to be until you are what you ought to be. And you can never be what you ought to be until I am what I ought to be. This is the way God’s universe is made; this is the way it is structured.”
Dr King’s words continue to echo in my mind as I sat and listened to President-elect Obama’s speech last night, a chilly night in a huge park in Chicago, in front of 500,000 supporters, in front of Oprah and the Rev. Jesse Jackson:
“We are tied together in a single garment of destiny, caught in an inescapable network of mutuality.”
Dr. King ended his speech forty years ago with these words:
“We must see this, believe this, and live by it if we are to remain awake through a great revolution.”
Our practice calls on us to indeed remain awake through a great revolution, both inside and outside, as at some point don’t see a difference between the two.
“We must all learn to live together as brothers or we will perish as fools.”
Nothing to do or undo
“Happiness can not be found
through great effort and willpower,
but is already present,
in open relaxation and letting go.
Don’t strain yourself,
there is nothing to do or undo.
Whatever momentarily arises
in the body-mind
has no real importance at all,
has little reality whatsoever.
Why identify with,
and become attached to it,
passing judgement upon it and ourselves?
Far better to simply
let the entire game happen on its own,
springing up and falling back like waves
without changing or manipulating anything
and notice how everything vanishes and reappears, magically,
again and again, time without end.
Only our searching for happiness
prevents us from seeing it.
It’s like a vivid rainbow which you pursue
without ever chatching,
or a dog chasing its own tail.
Although peace and happiness
do not exist as an actual thing or place,
it is always available
and accompanies you every instant.
Don’t believe in the reality of good and bad experiences;
they are like today ephemeral weather,
like rainbows in the sky.
Wanting to grasp the ungraspable,
you exhaust yourself in vain.
As soon as you open and relax
this tight fist of grasping,
infinite space is there -
open, inviting and comfortable.
Make use of this spaciousness, this
freedom and natural ease.
Don’t search any further
looking for the great awakened elephant,
who is already resting quietly at home
in front of your own hearth.
Nothing to do or undo,
nothing to force,
nothing to want,
and nothing missing -
Emaho! Marvelous!
Everything happens by itself.”
-By Venerable Lama Gendun Rinpoche
Squirming away from nothing (three characteristics of existence, week 1)
In classical Buddhist thought, existence is said to have three characteristics, or marks: anicca, dukkha and anatta (impermanence, dissatisfaction, and non-self). We have so far discussed in detail how to meditate, and how to put order into our life so that meditation can begin to unravel the knots which keep us bound to repeating habitual patterns whose over riding themes are dissatisfaction and anxiety. Let’s now examine the nature of reality as suggested by Buddhist philosophy.
When we meditate we simply sit with what is. This sounds so simple, yet it can be incredibly challenging. Ask yourself why this is so. When I examine this question, it appears that I am sitting with some basic, not immediately nameable anxiety which pushes me into a million evasive maneuvers away from this what is: fantasizing, judging, planning for some un-knowable future, or re-hashing some subtly distorted past.
Why? What is anxiety-producing about simply being present to whatever is arising in the present moment?
I suggest that many of us have, at some point in our life, come to a fleeting suspicion that there really may not be anything underlying the felt sense of who we are. Perhaps we overhear our self speaking to a significant other in a way which seems mechanical, automated, as if we are speaking from some inner, predictable script. Perhaps we hear others speaking and acting in a similar fashion.
Perhaps we experience the loss of a close friend or relative. We sense our own mortality. We see how fast life is passing by. We sense that our time may be short.
We get some inner glimpse of how impermanent and how habitual our lives are, as if they are the very sense of who we are is simply a construct, a composition of habitual ways of perceiving, feeling, acting and speaking.
We ask, perhaps, who or what am I?
Am I simply an impermanent series of processes, continually conditioned by habitual ways of seeing and acting in the world, which fool us into seeing ourselves as solid, non-constructed, and real?
That after I sit and meditate with what is, that after layer after layer of my conditioned evasive responses to simply being with what is are peeled away, that I am left with-nothing?
This week I am suggesting you examine this sense of self that we all must have. Is there now, or has there ever been, some uncomfortable sense that what we experience as a self is merely a construct put together moment by moment by the stuff of this life-of the ways we act and see the world?
Freud had a brilliant insight when he talked about repression, and the return of the repressed. Rather than the fear of unacceptable sexual impulses, Buddhism sees the fundamental issue we face as that of repressing an uncomfortable, nagging sense that we are not as solid as we may think. As Freud was so keen to observe, repression is penny wise but pound foolish. What gets repressed comes back one way or another. One reaction to the discomfort of our ephemeral nature is this movement of repression and evasion.
We squirm away from our nothingness.
Buddhism describes the problem framing it terms of the three characteristics of existence: impermanence, dissatisfaction and non-self. The solution to the problem is to become comfortable with our fleeting inklings of being fabricated, of our un-grounded-ness, of our essential emptiness.
As we learn to sit with this anxiety, and to work through the layers of evasion, we come to see that un-grounded-ness is not a problem at all. This is what I call a spiritual embarkation point.
There’s a lot more to say, so stay tuned.
the precepts as a crucible (threefold training week 2)
“The thought manifests as the word;
The word manifests as the deed;
The deed develops into habit;
And the habit into character.
So, watch the thought and its ways with care
And let it spring from love
Born out of concern for all beings.
As the shadow follows the body,
As we think, so we become.”
The Buddha, from the Dhammapada
My wife calls me at work and I have this feeling in my gut that I don’t want my co-workers to hear us whispering sweet somethings, so instead of protecting that warm feeling that nourishes me to want to whisper the sweet somethings, I betray it by giving free reign to anxiety I have somehow built around this situation. She feels hurt and I feel sad.
A customer writes expressing disappointment with a CD I sold him on Amazon. He was technically at fault for not reading the item description. My first impulse is to want to set him straight and show him what a dummy he was for not reading the item description.
It’s really amazing how our reactions to seemingly innocuous life events all of us face in our lives have a way of adding up to form how we see and react to the world. They have a way of revealing our true colors.
If we are able to see these small events as red flags, and we can do what we are supposed to do when we see a red flag when we are driving-we stop. When we stop we give ourselves the chance to experience what we are experiencing, tightness in the chest, butterflies in the stomach, and the tumble of thoughts in the mind. Do this, do that. Get even. I’ll show them. This is not fair. How dare they? And on and on.
It’s taken me ten years to muster up the courage to call my mother for Mothers’ day just a couple of weeks ago after a long, strange estrangement.
The precepts aren’t just a list of do’s and don’ts. They point at seeing how it is that I couldn’t or wouldn’t call my mother. Or to be gentle and kind with my wife on the phone despite my feelings of not wanting to be overheard at work. Or how I wanted to set the customer straight.
The first precept states do not kill. Not to kill means not to cause harm. Stated positively it also means to let go of anger. Each encounter with the fear and dread in my gut brings me closer to what this is work is really about.
You go round and round in a wrestling match until you really see that you haven’t let go of anger at all. And I knew deep in my heart that my mother was not about to.
You make the call. This is what we sign up for on this path.
Making the call.
There are no rules really. Just a spirit to follow. And you know in your heart of hearts if you are following it or not. Just ask yourself if what you are about to say or do is following the spirit of the precepts and listen deeply before offering an inner response.
Just be present to whatever the situation is without taking the bait, the invitation to indulge in the old self-centered thinking patterns I call The Tumble.
It’s an invitation to face our demons with grace and humility.
The real work is not on the cushion, but off-that’s why we call it meditation practice. It’s a practice for the performance of daily life. Look at what we tend to want to avoid most in our life-the most mundane example. Practice with that.
Used with care, the precepts can help us disentangle the knots of separation and discomfort that show our deep connection to those near and dear, as well as to those we look upon as enemies.
We have to start to look at our habitual patterns of thinking, acting and feeling. We do it when we sit, but we must continue to do it off the cushion. The precepts are then like a crucible in which we forge the raw materials for a new life.
They are keys that help us open closets we don’t want to look in. But look we must with eyes of compassion and understanding.
The threefold training (week 1)
The three trainings
The teachings of the Buddha are remarkable in many ways. One perspective I like to contemplate is to simply see that the Buddha was a human being like you and I, who lived during an epoch-forming time, not unlike the one we live in now, and who was faced with many of the questions we face. Of course, he didn’t have to contend with many of the issues we have brought upon ourselves through the rampant development of personal technologies and the demands of the workplace, nevertheless our lives are not substantively that different from his.
I allow myself to bask in the confidence that he attained a remarkable, multi-faceted and deeply comprehensive shift in the way he saw the world sometime in his thity-sixth year. A shift so deep and so profound that for him all suffering was completely eradicated from his being, along with the propensity for future suffering. I also bask in the confidence that he spent the remaining forty-five years of his life tirelessly teaching others in the hope that they also would find a way to what he called “the sure heart’s release.”
He taught his heart out. His teachings, as remembered and later written down by his students, fill many volumes. What is amazing is the consistency and the brilliance of the basic models of his teachings: the four noble truths and the eightfold path. All the major points are contained in these two formulations (we could more accurately see it as one formulation, as the eightfold path is part of the fourth noble truth).
He mentioned various ways to look at the teachings and gave a number of devices to recall them. I am grateful in a way that his teachings were given at a time before the use of the written word. I like to contemplate his teachings by bringing to mind some of these devices, and find that they stimulate thought and help me understand the teachings on a deeper level-without the aid of the internet or books. One such device to recall the teachings is his formulation of the three trainings.
The three trainings are: sila, samadhi, panna.
Sila refers to ethical conduct, or put another way, living a live of integrity. Samadhi refers to the settling and calming of the mind through the practice of meditation, which we have been learning these past nine weeks. Panna refers to insight, which permanently uproots the kileshas - the seeds of discontent.
We will spend the next nine weeks contemplating the threefold training in light of our ongoing practice of anapanasati.
Homework for this week:
1) Listen to the dharma talk entitled “Moral integrity” By Sara Doering (available at the weekly meeting).
2) Read and contemplate the teachings in the posting entitled ”readings on the five precepts” on this blog.
3) Keep up your practice of anapanasati.
readings on the five precepts
The Five Precepts–readings from prominent contemporary Buddhist teachers (thanks to Gil Fronsdal and the folks at The Insight Meditation Center of the Mid-Peninsula for many of these excerpts).
First Precept: Abstaining from the Taking of Life
commentary by Matthew Flickstein, from Swallowing the River Ganges
Avoid killing and act with reverence toward all forms of life.
This precept applies to the taking of our own life as well as to taking the lives of others. It means honoring and embracing all life forms including those of insects and other creatures we may consider threatening, bothersome, or insignificant.
On a more subtle level, we need to recognize that we press a lack of reverence toward others when we communicate using harsh words, or by displaying offensive gestures and facial expressions. Whenever we make judgments about people labeling them selfish, ignorant, arrogant, and so forth – we relate to those people as if they were fixed objects and “kill off” our connection to their individuality and inherently divine nature.
commentary by Bhikkhu Bodhi, from www.accesstoinsight.org
from the Pali Canon: Herein someone avoids the taking of life and abstains from it. Without stick or sword, conscientious, full of sympathy, he is desirous of the welfare of all sentient beings.
“Abstaining from taking life” has a wider application than simply refraining from killing other human beings. The precept enjoins abstaining from killing any sentient being. A “sentient being” is a living being endowed with mind or consciousness; for practical purposes, this means human beings, animals, and insects. Plants are not considered to be sentient beings; though they exhibit some degree of sensitivity, they lack full-fledged consciousness, the defining attribute of a sentient being.
The “taking of life” that is to be avoided is intentional killing, the deliberate destruction of life of a being endowed with consciousness. The principle is grounded in the consideration that all beings love life and fear death, that all seek happiness and are averse to pain. The essential determinant of transgression is the volition to kill, issuing in an action that deprives a being of life. Suicide is also generally regarded as a violation, but not accidental killing as the intention to destroy life is absent. The abstinence may be taken to apply to two kinds of action, the primary and the secondary. The primary is the actual destruction of life; the secondary is deliberately harming or torturing another being without killing it.
While the Buddha’s statement on non-injury is quite simple and straightforward, later commentaries give a detailed analysis of the principle. A treatise from Thailand, written by an erudite Thai patriarch, collates a mass of earlier material into an especially thorough treatment, which we shall briefly summarize here. The treatise points out that the taking of life may have varying degrees of moral weight entailing different consequences. The three primary variables governing moral weight are the object, the motive, and the effort. With regard to the object there is a difference in seriousness between killing a human being and killing an animal, the former being kammically heavier since man has a more highly developed moral sense and greater spiritual potential than animals. Among human beings, the degree of kammic weight depends on the qualities of the person killed and his relation to the killer; thus killing a person of superior spiritual qualities or a personal benefactor, such as a parent or a teacher, is an especially grave act.
The motive for killing also influences moral weight. Acts of killing can be driven by greed, hatred, or delusion. Of the three, killing motivated by hatred is the most serious, and the weight increases to the degree that the killing is premeditated. The force of effort involved also contributes, the unwholesome kamma being proportional to the force and the strength of the defilements.
The positive counterpart to abstaining from taking life, as the Buddha indicates, is the development of kindness and compassion for other beings. The disciple not only avoids destroying life; he dwells with a heart full of sympathy, desiring the welfare of all beings. The commitment to non-injury and concern for the welfare of others represent the practical application of the second path factor, right intention, in the form of good will and harmlessness.
commentary by Bhante Gunaratana, from Eight Mindful Steps to Happiness
The inclination to harm or hurt other living beings generally arises out of hatred or fear. When we purposely kill living beings, even small creatures like insects, we diminish our respect for all life – and thus for our selves. Mindfulness helps us to recognize our own aversions and to take responsibility for them. As we examine our mental states, we see that hatred and fear lead to a cycle of cruelty and violence, actions that damage others and destroy our own peace of mind. Abstaining from killing makes the mind peaceful and free from hatred. This clarity helps us to refrain from destructive actions and to embrace actions motivated by generosity and compassion.
One of my students told me that she used to feel fear and revulsion toward certain small creatures, like mice, fleas, and ticks. Because of these feelings, she was willing to kill them. As her mindfulness practice helped her to become more gentle, she resolved not to kill these creatures. As a result, her feelings of fear and revulsion diminished. Not long ago she even managed to scoop up a large cockroach in her bare hands and carry it outdoors to safety.
When we abstain from killing, our respect for life grows, and we begin to act with compassion toward all living beings. This same student told me of visiting a friend who lived at a certain meditation center. When she arrived, she noticed an insect trap hung up on the porch of the center’s staff housing. Dozens of yellow jackets were in the trap, drawn by the sweet smell of apple juice. Once they entered the small opening in the trap, they could not get out. When they became exhausted by flying in the small space, they fell into the apple juice at the bottom of the trap and slowly drowned. The visiting student asked her friend about the trap. He agreed that such a device was a shameful thing to have at a meditation center, but he said that the higher-ups had put the trap there and that there was nothing he could do about it.
Though she tried to ignore the buzzing coming from the trap, the woman could not get the suffering of the yellow jackets out of her mind. Soon she felt she had to do something to give a few of them a chance to escape. She took a knife, poked a tiny hole at the top of the trap, and inserted the knife to hold it open. A few yellow jackets crawled up the knife blade and escaped to safety. Then she enlarged the hole a bit more, and a few more got out. Finally, she realized that she could not bear to leave even one to die in the trap. Though she was nervous about interfering, she took the trap to a nearby field and cut it completely open, releasing all the yellow jackets that remained alive. As she did so, she made the wish, “May I be released from my negative attitudes and behaviors even as these insects are released from the trap.”
The student told me that since that time, she has had no fear of yellow jackets. Last spring, a nest of yellow jackets appeared under the main doorway of the Bhavana Society. People using that doorway got stung, and the area was roped off. However, this one woman continued to use that doorway, stepping over the nest without harm until it was removed. “I’ll be very surprised if I’m ever stung by yellow jackets again,” she said. “But if I do get stung, I’d be more worried about the poor yellow jacket who gets upset and may get injured by stinging me.”
As you can see from this student’s experience, refraining from killing creates the right atmosphere for compassionate action to grow in our lives. This is wonderful and a great aid to progress on the Buddha’s path. But we shouldn’t become militant in our support of non-harming! Skillful Action asks us to make our own decisions about moral behavior, not to insist adamantly that everyone follow our example.
Many laypeople ask me how to deal with insect pests in their homes and gardens. They want to be good Buddhists and not kill, but their flowers will wither or their homes deteriorate if they ignore the insects. I tell them that killing insects, even for a good reason, is still killing. However, not all killing has the same kammic (karmic) consequences. Killing an insect generally does not hinder one’s progress as much as killing an animal, such as a dog. Killing a dog causes less impact to the mind than killing a human being. No act of killing causes more harm to oneself than killing one’s parents or killing an enlightened being. This kind of killing would prevent the killer from attaining enlightenment in this life and lead to the worst kind of rebirth. Killing insects is not so grave a matter as this. Understanding that there are differing levels of impact, we make our choices and accept the consequences.
Second Precept: Abstaining from Taking What is Not Given
commentary by Matthew Flickstein, from Swallowing the River Ganges
Avoid stealing and cultivate generosity.
The precept not to steal requires close examination of all our behaviors so that we can adhere to this principle even in what appear to be trivial circumstances. Consider, for example, how you would respond to the following situations: If change were mistakenly returned after making a call at a pay phone, would you deposit it? If you needed a paper clip or another common office supply, would you take it from a co-workers desk without first asking for permission? If you found money lying in the street and are unsure whether the owner would return searching for it, would you leave the money where you found it? The decisions we face when confronted with these types of circumstances have a significant bearing on the development of our character and the purification of our virtue.
The counterpoint to stealing is generosity. Most people, if asked, would say that they consider themselves generous. In reality, however, most of us have a difficult time “letting go”. The generosity we do express may often be limited to the members of our immediate family.
When we forgo an opportunity to express generosity, it is generally because we are attached to our possessions or resources. Since we believe ourselves to be generous, we tend to justify our selfish actions. We may say that we do not have enough even for ourselves, that we may need in the future what we are thinking of giving away, that the recipient would not appreciate the value of our gift, and so forth. To cultivate a generous heart we must begin by recognizing the depth of our attachments and by realizing what makes us resistant to opening our hearts in this way.
The following exercise will help to uncover any personal barriers to expressing generosity: Make a determination to give away one of your most cherished possessions. It could be a painting or sculpture that you created, a valuable coin that you purchased, or a book that cannot easily be replaced. It is important to be sure that you will no longer have access to the object once it is given away.
After you make the decision about what to give away and whom to give it to, watch for signs of resistance. Listen for subtle justifications for not completing the exercise. Finally, carefully observe any grief that may arise as a consequence of no longer having the possession to which you were attached.
The experience of resistance, justification, and grief are the mind states that need to be countered in order to increase our capacity to express generosity. The starting point is to become mindfully aware of these mental states whenever they arise.
For some individuals, giving of their time is more difficult than giving away material goods. To spend time with someone who is ill, in pain, or who frequently complains can be very trying. However, this form of generosity is closely associated with compassion and is extremely worthwhile to cultivate.
commenary by Bhikkhu Bodhi
from the Pali Canon He avoids taking what is not given and abstains from it; what another person possesses of goods and chattel in the village or in the wood, that he does not take away with thievish intent.
“Taking what is not given” means appropriating the rightful belongings of others with thievish intent. If one takes something that has no owner, such as unclaimed stones, wood, or even gems extracted from the earth, the act does not count as a violation even though these objects have not been given. But also implied as a transgression, though not expressly stated, is withholding from others what should rightfully be given to them.
Commentaries mention a number of ways in which “taking what is not given” can be committed. Some of the most common may be enumerated:
stealing: taking the belongings of others secretly, as in housebreaking, pick pocketing, etc.
robbery: taking what belongs to others openly by force or threats
snatching: suddenly pulling away another’s possession before he has time to resist
fraudulence: gaining possession of another’s belongings by falsely claiming them as one’s own
deceitfulness: using false weights and measures to cheat customers.
The degree of moral weight that attaches to the action is determined by three factors: the value of the object taken; the qualities of the victim of the theft; and the subjective state of the thief. Regarding the first, moral weight is directly proportional to the value of the object. Regarding the second, the weight varies according to the moral qualities of the deprived individual. Regarding the third, acts of theft may be motivated either by greed or hatred. While greed is the most common cause, hatred may also be responsible as when one person deprives another of his belongings not so much because he wants them for himself as because he wants to harm the latter. Between the two, acts motivated by hatred are kammically heavier than acts motivated by sheer greed.
The positive counterpart to abstaining from stealing is honesty, which implies respect for the belongings of others and for their right to use their belongings as they wish. Another related virtue is contentment, being satisfied with what one has without being inclined to increase one’s wealth by unscrupulous means. The most eminent opposite virtue is generosity, giving away one’s own wealth and possessions in order to benefit others.
commentary by Bhante Gunaratana, from Eight Mindful Steps to Happiness
Stealing is an expression of our greed or envy. Taking what does not belong to us is a bad habit that is hard to break. Some people are so undisciplined in this area that even when they attend a meditation training course to try to gain some peace and happiness, they continue their stealing habit. At the Bhavana Society, we know of incidents of people stealing meditation cushions. I doubt anyone has ever attained enlightenment by practicing meditation on a stolen meditation cushion! Our library has a similar problem. Because the Bhavana Society is located in a forest without quick access to any major collection of Buddhist books, we maintain our own collection. Over time, some books have disappeared. Isn’t it ironic that people who come to the center to meditate and study the Buddha’s teachings can’t see that taking things that do not belong to them can never help them toward an untroubled mind?
Practicing the Skillful Action of not stealing means making an effort to be honest and to respect the property of others. It means pointing out the error to a clerk in a store who has forgotten to charge you for something that you have bought or who has given you too much change. It means going out of your way to return what is not yours, with no expectation of being rewarded for your actions.
It’s easy to see that taking someone’s property or money is stealing, but we are often confronted with more subtle occasions to steal. Taking credit for someone else’s ideas is also stealing. So is lifting small items from the office, such as pens, notebooks, or computer disks, and taking them home for your personal use. Often we justify such actions by telling ourselves, “I could have thought of that idea myself,” or “The company owes me this stuff. I’ve been underpaid for years.” Cheating on your income taxes, writing bad checks, taking bribes, and engaging in fraudulent business practices are also stealing. Even shoplifting groceries when you are hungry constitutes theft. Remember, it is never good to feed the body at the expense of the mind.
Our purpose in practicing the moral guidelines of Skillful Action is to make our lives happy. If we break them, misery is sure to follow, in this life or in the future. Happiness requires peace of mind and a clear conscience. Do not think that you are refraining from stealing to please the world. You are doing so for your own contentment, now and in the future.
As we go beyond the coarse level of struggling against any form of stealing, we begin to refine our consideration for others’ needs and become less self-centered in the way we regard material things. Using the rule against stealing as a guide, we become less envious of other people’s possessions or good fortune. Instead we discover appreciative joy and rejoice in other peoples’ happiness.
Third Precept: Abstaining From Sexual Misconduct
comentary by Matthew Flickstein, from Swallowing the River Ganges
Avoid sexual misconduct and be considerate in intimate relationships.
Sexual misconduct includes rape, adultery, and other obviously inappropriate sexual encounters. On a more subtle level, we need to avoid any activities in which we relate to others as objects of sexual desire– such as watching pornography, talking about our physical attraction to others, and making sexual innuendoes through our words or actions.
Consideration in regard to our intimate relationships pertains to less obvious forms of sexual misbehavior. For example, if one person in a relationship is not inclined toward sexual intimacy, his or her partner needs to respect those wishes and act accordingly. Attempts to persuade one’s partner to be intimate or to use sexual intimacy as a bargaining chip in the relationship demonstrates a lack of consideration and is regarded as a breach of this precept.
commentary by Bhikkhu Bodhi
“He avoids sexual misconduct and abstains from it. He has no intercourse with such persons as are still under the protection of father, mother, brother, sister or relatives, nor with married women, nor with female convicts, nor lastly, with betrothed girls.”
The guiding purposes of this precept, from the ethical standpoint, are to protect marital relations from outside disruption and to promote trust and fidelity within the marital union. From the spiritual standpoint it helps curb the expansive tendency of sexual desire and thus is a step in the direction of renunciation, which reaches its consummation in the observance of celibacy binding on monks and nuns. But for laypeople the precept enjoins abstaining from sexual relations with an illicit partner. The primary transgression is entering into full sexual union, but all other sexual involvements of a less complete kind may be considered secondary infringements. (Note: an “illicit partner” is someone married or in a committed relationship with someone else, a partner prohibited by convention, such as close relatives, monks and nuns under a vow of celibacy.)
Besides these, any case of forced, violent, or coercive sexual union constitutes a transgression. But in such a case the violation falls only on the offender, not on the one compelled to submit.
The essential purpose is to prevent sexual relations which are hurtful to others. When mature independent people, though unmarried, enter into a sexual relationship through free consent, so long as no other person is intentionally harmed, no breach of the training factor is involved.
commentary by Bhante Gunaratana, from Eight Mindful Steps to Happiness
The Buddha’s words usually translated as abstaining from “sexual misconduct” actually apply to more than just sexual behavior. The words that he used literally mean that one should abstain from “abuse of the senses” – all the senses. Sexual misconduct is one particularly damaging form of sensual abuse.
For the purpose of keeping precepts, it is traditionally assumed that by “abuse of the senses” the Buddha specifically meant abstention from sexual misconduct. Sexual misconduct includes rape and manipulating someone into having sex against their wishes. The prohibition also refers to having sex with minors, animals, someone else’s spouse or partner, or someone protected by parents or guardians. If one of the partners in a committed unmarried couple betrays the other, that can also be considered sexual misconduct. Having sex with an appropriate and consenting adult partner is not considered misconduct.
These definitions aside, people get into lot of trouble because of their sexual desires. The irony is that lust can never be completely satisfied. No matter how many risks people take or how much pain and suffering people go though to try to fulfill their desires, the wish to fulfill desires does not go away. Some people turn to meditation out of the pain and suffering caused by their sexual desires. Unfortunately, all too often, even during their efforts to gain some concentration and peace of mind, lust keeps bothering them.
The only solution to this problem is to begin with disciplining your sexual activity. If you are incapable of a bit of self-discipline, the path to happiness will forever remain elusive. Some very sincere meditators have made great strides in cleaning up bad habits such as drinking or lying, yet fail to see why they should rein in their sexual behavior. They say, “I don’t see what’s wrong with having a little fun.” The traditional list of inappropriate partners seems to provide a loophole for them. They notice right away that nothing is said against having relations with many partners so long as they are appropriate and unmarried, or against seeking cheap thrills. But cheap thrills cheapen you and degrade your self-worth. Casual sex hurts you and can injure others.
What is the point of this kind of fun? To give you pleasure? To fulfill your desires? Yet, we’ve been saying all along that craving-desire is the very root of our misery. The Buddha’s second truth tells us that all suffering stems from desire. Confused sexual behavior is one of the easiest ways to trap the mind into a cycle of craving and aversion. Sexual pleasures are so alluring, and their downsides – rejection, embarrassment, frustration, jealousy, insecurity, remorse, loneliness, and craving for more – are so unbearable that they keep people running on an endless treadmill.
The problem is that lust cannot be eased by fulfilling it physically. Doing so is like scratching a poison ivy rash. Though scratching may bring a brief sense of relief, it spreads the poison and makes the underlying problem worse. Curing your condition requires restraint, holding back from doing things that will intensify your discomfort later.
The Buddha used a powerful metaphor to illustrate the common mistakes people make in thinking about sexuality. In his day, lepers could be seen gathered around fires, burning their wounds. Their disease gave them the most unbearable itching. Applying fire to their sores gave them some relief. But the fire did not heal their wounds or cure their disease. Instead, they burned themselves. Once the feeling of temporary ease left them, the sores swelled and festered from the burns. The poor sufferers were left with even more discomfort and itching than before. So, the lepers went back to the fire and burned themselves again.
People do the same thing when they seek relief from their lust, the Buddha said. When they go to the fire of sexual indulgence, they get a temporary sense of release from the pain and dissatisfaction of their sexual desire. But there is no healing power in indulgence. They only burn themselves. Then how much more maddening is the craving, the itching?
Now imagine, the Buddha continued, that a great physician comes along and brings healing medicine to a leper. The leper applies the medicine and is fully cured. Now what does the leper think of the fire? No power on earth can make him want to burn himself again. His former companions call to him to join them around the fire and to burn himself again. The healed leper remembers what that was like – the insanity of the craving and the short-lived release of the fire. Nothing can make him go back to it. He feels great compassion for his former companions and for his own previous suffering. (M 75)
Hearing this, you may wonder, “Must I choose between my partner and the path?” This misunderstanding causes concern for many people. But loving sexual behavior between committed partners is no obstacle to one’s practice. In fact, a supportive relationship can be a great asset to progress through the Buddha’s eight steps to happiness.
Moreover, to perfect the step of Skillful Action, the Buddha urged us to stop abusing any of our senses. Aside from sexual misconduct, what does this mean? When one indulges one’s cravings by stimulating any senses to the point of weariness, it is sense abuse.
What areas of your behavior have you left unexamined, areas in which you push your mind or body beyond a reasonable point just for pleasure or escape? Ask yourself: “Am I indulging in hours of watching television or doing non-essential paperwork late into the night? Eating more than what is necessary to sustain my life? Going to clubs where the music is so loud that my ears ring when I leave? Using my body for pleasure in ways that make it tired, sore, and unfit for work the next day? Do I make use of the internet in ways that benefit my life and my community or am I simply entertaining myself until my eyes are bleary and my mind is numb?”
These kinds of activities are not right for the body and not right for a spiritual path. What would it be like to abandon them? Self-respect can grow in their place. The self-centeredness rooted in these activities can melt away, leaving room for a spirited, generous heart, no longer a slave to craving’s call.
Fourth Precept: Abstaining From False Speech
commentary by Matthew Flickstein, from Swallowing the River Ganges
Avoid lying and relate what is true while remaining sensitive to the potential impact of all communication.
Following this precept is of key importance to our spiritual development. To fully keep this precept, we need to recognize the impact our words have on others. We need to avoid expressing what we consider to be “harmless” lies, to make sure that what we say is consistent with what we do, and to immediately communicate changes in circumstances that prevent us from keeping commitments we have previously made. Our lives must be in alignment with truth at every level for spiritual understanding to arise.
We also need to investigate how truthful we are when we listen to others. We compromise our integrity when we give the outward appearance of listening, but are actually thinking about something else. Although the individual speaking to us may not be consciously aware of what is occurring, by virtue of this subtle communication disparity, the speaker has an intuitive sense of not having really been heard. We need to train ourselves to remain as present and open as possible while listening to what others are saying.
The Buddha speaks of four categories of communication and our responsibility regarding each category: saying something that is untrue and displeasing to hear (such as false accusations) should never be done; voicing something that is untrue but pleasing to hear (such as flattery) should also be withheld; saying something that is true but displeasing to hear (such as constructive criticism) should only be spoken when the person is receptive to what is being said; and finally, communicating something that is true and pleasing to hear (such as positive feedback) should also be withheld until the timing is suitable. The Buddha’s words point out that for communication to have integrity and to be effective, we need to consider both the content and timing of that communication.
Please also see the posting on this blog: “Right speech.”
Fifth Precept: Abstaining from Misusing Intoxicants
commentary by Matthew Flickstein, from Swallowing the River Ganges
Avoid intoxicants, which confuse the mind and cause heedless behavior, and ingest only those substances that are nourishing and supportive of peaceful abiding.
We need to abstain from using alcohol and drugs, which weaken our mental faculties and ultimately lead to unskillful actions. On a more subtle level, we need to avoid exposing our minds to less obvious intoxicants – such as movies, books, and television programs that are filled with images of sexuality, violence, and the search for sensual gratification. Allowing these images to run unimpeded through our minds affects our thinking process and can lead to unwholesome behaviors.
commentary by Bhante Gunaratana, from Eight Mindful Steps to Happiness
The last of the five precepts says to avoid alcohol, drugs, or other intoxicants, and the same principle is implied in Skillful Action. In giving this precept, the Buddha used conditional wording. He did not tell lay followers to avoid all intoxicants, but only those that cause “negligence, infatuation, and heedlessness.” In other words, the careful use of painkilling drugs and other narcotics prescribed by a doctor does not violate the prohibition. Nor does occasional, light use of alcohol, such as a glass of wine. We must use common sense.
Though light use of alcohol may be allowed, it is inadvisable. One drink tends to lead to another. Some people with sensitivity to alcohol may lose control and drink to excess after just one drink. Thus, the most effective time to exercise control is before that first drink, not after. Others develop an addictive habit more slowly, drinking a little more each time, unaware that their casual use of alcohol is becoming a serious problem. Moreover, the presence of alcohol in the house may tempt people to get drunk impulsively during a time of stress or sorrow. We can live quite healthily without alcohol, and it is better not to give it a chance to ruin our lives.
Over the years I have heard many stories of how alcohol leads to unhappiness. For instance, a resident at the Bhavana Society told me that many years ago she was indifferent to alcohol and drank only a little when others insisted. At parties where alcohol was served, she never finished even one beer. She just carried the bottle around all evening to fit in with those who were drinking. After graduating from college, she moved to another community. Her new friends drank frequently, and she developed a casual social drinking habit, which increased slowly. She told me that one night, when she was in a very bad mood, she drank one kind of hard drink and then another. When her friends expressed surprise at her having more than one drink, she swore at them, telling them to mind their own business. Suddenly, a strange feeling went through her body. Later she realized that it must have been a chemical change. From that moment on, she craved alcohol. Within two years she was drinking every day and getting drunk several times a week. Her personality changed in negative ways, and she suffered a great deal of unhappiness. Eventually, she sought help through an alcohol recovery program and now has been sober for many years.
People use intoxicants for many reasons. Young people want to feel more grown-up or sophisticated; shy or nervous people want to relax or feel more sociable; troubled people want to forget their problems. All of these motivations arise from dissatisfaction – from wanting to escape the reality of what is happening in the present moment.
Yet, when we think about it, running away never solved any problem or relieved any kind of suffering. Addiction to alcohol or drugs only makes your suffering worse. It can cause you to lose your sense of decency, your moral principles, your inhibitions. You may lie, commit sexual misconduct, steal, or worse. You may ruin your health, wealth, marriage, family, job, business. You may lose the respect of others and your respect for yourself. In the end you are left wallowing in misery and wondering why all these bad things happen to you. All in all, the best cure for addiction to intoxicants is not to use them in the first place!
For the purpose of the Eightfold Path, we can look beyond the words of the fifth precept to see what higher level of meaning we can find in abstaining from intoxicants. In what other ways do we drug ourselves, and why? Using this aspect of Skillful Action as a general guideline, question your motivations, ask whether you are trying to avoid being mindful. What are your escapes? Reading the newspaper? Engaging in unnecessary chatter? Mindfulness can help you identify the tricks you use to avoid continuous awareness of reality.
Anapanasati–the path to the deathless (week four)
Although this is the last week we will formally devote to learning the basics of the classic Buddhist meditation practice of anapanasati, as you may already appreciate, learning and practicing meditation is open-ended. Over the next months and years we will be honing and refining the practice. The seeds of the subtle points will blossom into gorgeous flowers of insight and joyous repose.
This week we will put all that we have learned together into what one prominent Thai meditation teacher has called the condensed anapanasati instructions. My own teacher in Sri Lanka, totally independent of these condensed instructions which I shall share with you below, came up with a similar abbreviated approach.
The reason an abbreviated approach is necessary is simply to address the needs of folks like you and I (unless you are a full-time meditator). Classically anapanasati was taught by the Buddha to his monks and nuns, and his instructions were geared to folks who had the time and dedication to practice all the sixteen steps he taught. Many teachers continue to instruct dedicated students, both lay and monastic, in these sixteen steps. However, as most of us find ourselves in circumstances quite different from the ones in which the first recipients of these teachings found themselves, there are, thankfully, keen teachers who have abbreviated the steps down to a manageble few. Before we get to the condensed instructions, let’s have a look at what these sixteen stages and steps entail in the classical presentation. I have taken the chart below from the excellent Wikipedia entry for “Anapanasati.”
“Formally, there are sixteen stages – or contemplations – of ānāpānasati. These are divided into four tetrads (i.e., sets or groups of four). The first four steps involve focusing the mind on breathing, which is the ‘body-conditioner’ (Pali: kāya-sankhāra). The second tetrad involves focusing on the feelings (vedanā), which are the ‘mind-conditioner’ (Pali: citta-sankhāra). The third tetrad involves focusing on the mind itself (Pali: citta), and the fourth on ‘the truth’ (Pali: dhamma).
| Satipatthana | Anapanasati | Tetrads | ||
| 1. Contemplation of the body | 1. Breathing long | First Tetrad | ||
| 2. Breathing short | ||||
| 3. Experiencing the whole body | ||||
| 4. Tranquillising the bodily activities | ||||
| 2. Contemplation of feelings | 5. Experiencing rapture | Second Tetrad | ||
| 6. Experiencing bliss | ||||
| 7. Experiencing mental activities | ||||
| 8. Tranquillising mental activities | ||||
| 3. Contemplation of the mind | 9. Experiencing the mind | Third Tetrad | ||
| 10. Gladdening the mind | ||||
| 11. Centering the mind in samadhi | ||||
| 12. Releasing the mind | ||||
| 4. Contemplation of Dhammas | 13. Contemplating impermanence | Fourth Tetrad | ||
| 14. Contemplating fading of lust | ||||
| 15. Contemplating cessation | ||||
| 16. Contemplating relinquishment | ||||
| Table 1.The Four Satipatthanas and the Sixteen Phases of Anapanasati. | ||||
Now you can simply have a look at this chart and not spend too much time on it. It very well may give you a headache! What follows is one very down to earth way to cover all the important bases in one sitting. Please take your time reading the description below. We will spend some time referring to it as the weeks go by. But there is no further instruction–this is it. Now it’s time to put the tush to the cush.
These instructions were given by the remarkbale Thai woman Upasika Kee Nanayon sometime in the early 1960’s. The first ever collection of her talks was publised by Wisdom publications in 2005. I can’t resist including some promotional material about this invaluable book from the publisher’s website.
Pure and Simple
The Extraordinary Teachings of a Thai Buddhist Laywoman
Upasika Kee, Author
Thanissaro Bhikkhu, Author
Upasika Kee was a uniquely powerful spiritual teacher. Evocative of the great Ajahn Chah, her teachings are earthy, refreshingly direct, and hard-hitting. In the twentieth century, she grew to become one of the most famous teachers in Thailand-male or female-all the more remarkable because, rarer still, she was not a monastic but a layperson.
Her relentless honesty, along with her encouraging voice, is one reason so many contemporary Buddhist teachers recall Upasika Kee so fondly, and so often.
Pure and Simple, the first widely-available collection of her writings, will be gratefully received not only by those who knew Upasika Kee, but by anyone who encounters her for the first time in its pages.
I have taken the liberty of bolding statements which I believe are crucial in understanding these remarkable teachings.
The Extraordinary Teachings of a Thai Buddhist Laywoman (pages 43 to 55).
“Now, as for how we do breath meditation: The texts say to breathe in long and out long – heavy or light – and then to breathe in short and out short, again heavy or light. Those are the first steps of the training. After that we don’t have to focus on the length of the in-breath or out-breath. Instead, we simply gather our awareness at any one point of the breath and keep this up until the mind settles down and is still. When the mind is still, you then focus on the stillness of the mind at the same time you’re aware of the breath.
At this point you don’t focus directly on the breath. You focus on the mind that is still and at normalcy. You focus continuously on the normalcy of the mind at the same time that you’re aware of the breath coming in and out, without actually focusing on the breath. You simply stay with the mind, but you watch it with each in-and-out breath. Usually when you are doing physical work and your mind is at normalcy, you can know what you’re doing, so why can’t you be aware of the breath? After all, it’s part of the body.
Some of you are new at this, which is why you don’t know how you can focus on the mind at normalcy with each in-and-out breath without focusing directly on the breath itself. What we’re doing here is practicing how to be aware of the body and mind, pure and simple, in and of themselves…
Start out by focusing on the breath for about 5, 10, or 20 minutes. Breathe in long and out long, or in short and out short. At the same time, notice the stages in how the mind feels, how it begins to settle down when you have mindfulness watching over the breath. You’ve got to make a point of observing this, because usually you breathe out of habit, with your attention far away. You don’t focus on the breath; you’re not really aware of it. This leads you to think that it’s hard to stay focused here, but actually it’s quite simple. After all, the breath comes in and out on its own, by its very nature. There’s nothing at all difficult about breathing. It’s not like other themes of meditation.
For instance, if you’re going to practice recollection of the Buddha, or buddho, you have to keep on repeating buddho, buddho, buddho.
Actually, if you want, you can repeat buddho in the mind with each in-and-out breath, but only in the very beginning stages. You repeat buddho to keep the mind from concocting thoughts about other things. Simply by keeping up this repetition you can weaken the mind’s tendency to stray, for the mind can take on only one object at a time. This is something you have to observe. The repetition is to prevent the mind from thinking up thoughts and clambering after them.
After you’ve kept up the repetition – you don’t have to count the number of times – the mind will settle down to be aware of the breath with each in-and-out breath. It will begin to be still, neutral, at normalcy.
This is when you focus on the mind instead of the breath. Let go of the breath and focus on the mind – but still be aware of the breath on the side. You don’t have to make note of how long or short the breath is. Make note of the mind staying at normalcy with each in-and-out breath. Remember this carefully so that you can put it into practice.
Here I’d like to condense the steps of breath meditationto show how all four of the tetrads mentioned in the texts can be practiced at once. In other words, is it possible to focus on the body, feelings, the mind, and the Dhamma all in one sitting? This is an important question for all of us. You could, if you wanted to, precisely follow all the steps in the texts so as to develop strong powers of mental absorption (jhana), but it takes a lot of time. It’s not appropriate for those of us who are old and have only a little time left.
What we need is a way of gathering our awareness at the breath long enough to make the mind firm, and then go straight to examining how all formations are inconstant, stressful, and not-self, so that we can see the truth of all formations with each in-and-out breath. If you can keep at this continually, without break, your mindfulness will become firm and snug enough for you to give rise to the discernment that will enable you to gain clear knowledge and vision.
So what follows is a guide to the steps in practicing a condensed form of breath meditation… Give them a try until you find they give rise to knowledge of your own within you. You’re sure to give rise to knowledge of your very own.
The first thing when you’re going to meditate on the breath is to sit straight and keep your mindfulness firm. Breathe in. Breathe out. Make the breath feel open and at ease. Don’t tense your hands, your feet, or any of your joints at all. You have to keep your body in a posture that feels appropriate to your breathing. At the beginning, breathe in long and out long, fairly heavily, and gradually the breath will shorten – sometimes heavy and sometimes light. Then breathe in short and out short for about 10 or 15 minutes and then change.
After a while, when you stay focused mindfully on it, the breath will gradually change. Watch it change for as many minutes as you like, then be aware of the whole breath, all of its subtle sensations. This is the third step, the third step of the first tetrad: sabba-kaya-patisamvedi – focusing on how the breath affects the whole body by watching all the breath sensations in all the various parts of the body, and in particular the sensations related to the in-and-out breath.
From there you focus on the sensation of the breath at any one point. When you do this correctly for a fairly long while, the body – the breath – will gradually grow still. The mind will grow calm. In other words, the breath grows still together with the awareness of the breath. When the subtleties of the breath grow still at the same time that your undistracted awareness settles down, the breath grows even more still. All the sensations in the body gradually grow more and more still. This is the fourth step, the stilling of bodily formations.
As soon as this happens, you begin to be aware of the feelings that arise with the stilling of the body and mind. Whether they are feelings of pleasure or rapture or whatever, they appear clearly enough for you to contemplate them.
The stages through which you have already passed – watching the breath come in and out, long or short – should be enough to make you realize – even though you may not have focused on the idea – that the breath is inconstant. It’s continually changing, from in long and out long to in short and out short, from heavy to light and so forth. This should enable you to read the breath, to understand that there’s nothing constant to it at all. It changes on its own from one moment to the next.
Once you have realized the inconstancy of the body – in other words, of the breath – you’ll be able to see the subtle sensations of pleasure and pain in the realm of feeling. So now you watch feelings, right there in the same place where you’ve been focusing on the breath. Even though they are feelings that arise from the stillness of the body or mind, they’re nevertheless inconstant even in that stillness. They can change. So these changing sensations in the realm of feeling exhibit inconstancy in and of themselves, just like the breath.
When you see change in the body, change in feelings, and change in the mind, this is called seeing the Dhamma, i.e., seeing inconstancy. You have to understand this correctly. Practicing the first tetrad of breath meditation contains all four tetrads of breath meditation. In other words, you see the inconstancy of the body and then contemplate feeling. You see the inconstancy of feeling and then contemplate the mind. The mind, too, is inconstant. This inconstancy of the mind is the Dhamma. To see the Dhamma is to see this inconstancy.
When you see the true nature of all inconstant things, then keep track of that inconstancy at all times, with every in-and-out breath. Keep this up in all your activities to see what happens next. (Note by Tom: the translator of this text has chosen to translate the Pali word anicca as inconstancy; you may be more familiar with the choice of ‘impermance’ for the Pali term anicca.)
What happens next is dispassion. Letting go. This is something you have to know for yourself.
This is what condensed breath meditation is like. I call it condensed because it contains all the steps at once. You don’t have to do one step at a time. Simply focus at one point, the body, and you’ll see the inconstancy of the body. When you see the inconstancy of the body, you’ll have to see feeling. Feeling will have to show its inconstancy. The mind’s sensitivity to feeling, or its thoughts and imaginings, are also inconstant. All of these things keep on changing. This is how you know inconstancy…
If you can become skilled at looking and knowing in this way, you’ll be struck with the inconstancy, stressfulness, and not-selfness of your “self,” and you’ll meet with the genuine Dhamma. The Dhamma that’s constantly changing like a burning fire – burning with inconstancy, stress, and not-selfness – is the Dhamma of the impermanence of all formations.
But further in, in the mind or in the property of consciousness, is something special, beyond the reach of any kind of fire. There, there’s no suffering or stress of any kind at all. This thing that lies “inside”: You could say that it lies within the mind, but it isn’t really in the mind. It’s simply that the contact is there at the mind. Only the extinguishing of all defilement will lead you to know it for yourself. There’s no way you can really describe it.
This “something special” within exists by its very nature, but defilements have it surrounded on all sides. All these counterfeit things – the defilements – keep getting in the way and take possession of everything, so that this special nature remains imprisoned inside at all times. Actually, there’s nothing in the dimension of time that can be compared with it. There’s nothing by which you can label it, but it’s something that you can pierce through to see – i.e., by piercing through defilement, craving, and attachment into the state of mind that is pure, bright, and silent. This is the only thing that’s important.
But it doesn’t have only one level. There are many levels, from the outer bark to the inner bark and on to the sapwood before you reach the heartwood. The genuine Dhamma is like the heartwood, but there’s a lot to the mind that isn’t heartwood: The roots, the branches and leaves of the tree are more than many, but there’s only a little heartwood. The parts that aren’t heartwood will gradually decay and disintegrate, but the heartwood doesn’t decay. That’s one kind of comparison we can make. It’s like a tree that dies standing. The leaves fall away, the branches rot away, the bark and sapwood rot away, leaving nothing but the true heartwood. That’s one comparison we can make with this thing we call deathless, this property that has no birth, no death, no changing. We can also call it nibbana or the Unconditioned. It’s all the same thing.
Now, then. Isn’t this something worth trying to break through to see?…”