u/Bhante-K

^(Full desana)

> “Staying or going is not important, but our thinking is. So all of you, please work together, cooperate and live in harmony. This should be the legacy you create here at Wat Pah Nanachat Bung Wai, the International Forest Monastery of Bung Wai District. Don't let it become Wat Pah Nanachat Woon Wai, the International Forest Monastery of Confusion and Trouble [1]. > > Whoever comes to stay here should be helping create this legacy. > > The way I see it, the lay people are providing robes material, almsfood, the dwelling place, and medicines in appropriate measure. It's true that they are simple country folk, but they support you out of their faith as best they can. Don't get carried away with your ideas of how you think they should be, such as, "Oh, I try to teach these lay people, but they do make me upset. Today is the observance day, and they came to take precepts. Then tomorrow they'll go casting their fishing nets. They'll drink their whiskey. They do these things right out there where anyone can see. Then the next observance day, they'll come again. They'll take the precepts and listen to the Dharma talk again, and then they'll go to put out their nets again, kill animals again, and drink again." > > You can get pretty upset thinking like this. You'll think that your activities with the lay people don't bring any benefit at all. Today they take the precepts, and tomorrow they go cast the fishing nets. A monk without much wisdom might get discouraged and feel he's failed, thinking his work bears no fruit. But it's not that his efforts have no result; it's those lay people who get no result. Of course there is some good result from making efforts at virtue. So when there is such a situation and we start to suffer over it, what should we do? > > We contemplate within ourselves to recognize that our good intentions have brought some benefit and do have meaning. It's just that the spiritual faculties of those people aren't developed. They aren't strong yet. That's how it is for now, so we patiently continue to advise them. If we just give up on such people, they are likely to become worse than they are now. If we keep at it, they may come to maturity one day and recognize their unskillful actions. Then they will feel some remorse and start to be ashamed of doing such things. > > Right now, they have the faith to support us with material offerings, giving us our requisites for living. I've considered this: it's quite a big deal. It's no small thing. Donating our food, our dwellings, the medicines to treat our illnesses, is not a small thing. We are practicing for the attainment of Nibbāna. If we don't have any food to eat, that will be pretty difficult. How would we sit in meditation? How would we be able to build this monastery? > > We should recognize when people's spiritual faculties are not yet mature. So what should we do? We are like someone selling medicine. You've probably seen or heard them driving around with their loudspeakers touting the different medicines they have for different maladies. People who have bad headaches or poor digestion might come to buy [2]. > > We can accept money from those who buy our medicine; we don't take money from someone who doesn't buy anything. We can feel glad about the people who do buy something. If others stay in their houses and don't come out to buy, we shouldn't get angry with them for that. We shouldn't criticize them. > > If we teach people but they can't practice properly, we shouldn't be getting angry with them. Don't do that! Don't criticize them, but rather keep on instructing them and leading them along. Whenever their faculties have ripened sufficiently, then they will want to do it. Just like when we are selling medicine, we just keep on doing our business. When people have ailments that trouble them, they will buy. Those who don't see a need to buy medicine probably aren't suffering from any such conditions. So never mind. > > Keeping at it with this attitude, these problems will be done with. There were such situations in the Buddha's time too. > > We want to do it right, but somehow we can't get there yet; our own faculties are not sufficiently mature. Our pāramī (spiritual perfections) are not complete. It's like fruit that's still growing on the tree. You can't force it to be sweet - it's still unripe, it's small and sour, simply because it hasn't finished growing. You can't force it to be bigger, to be sweet, to be ripe - you have to let it ripen according to its nature. As time passes and things change, people may come to spiritual maturity. As time passes the fruit will grow, ripen and sweeten of its own accord. With such an attitude you can be at ease. But if you are impatient and dissatisfied, you keep asking, "Why isn't this mango sweet yet? Why is it sour?" It's still sour because it's not ripe. That's the nature of fruit. > > The people in the world are like that. It makes me think of the Buddha's teaching about four kinds of lotus. Some are still in the mud, some have grown out of the mud but are under the water, some are at the surface of the water, and some have risen above the water and bloomed. The Buddha was able to give his teachings to so many various beings because he understood their different levels of spiritual development. We should think about this and not feel oppressed by what happens here. Just consider yourselves to be like someone selling medicine. Your responsibility is to advertise it and make it available. If someone gets sick they are likely to come and buy it. Likewise, if people's spiritual faculties mature sufficiently, one day they are likely to develop faith. It's not something we can force them to do. Seeing it in this way, we will be okay. > > Living here in this monastery is certainly meaningful. It's not without benefit. All of you, please practice together harmoniously and amicably. When you experience obstacles and suffering, recollect the virtues of the Buddha. What was the knowledge the Buddha realized? What did the Buddha teach? What does the Dhamma point out? How does the Sangha practice? Constantly recollecting the qualities of the Three Jewels brings a lot of benefit. > > Whether you are Thais or people from other countries is not important. It's important to maintain harmony and work together. People come from all over to visit this monastery. When folks come to Wat Pah Pong, I urge them to come here, to see the monastery, to practice here. It's a legacy you are creating. It seems that the populace have faith and are gladdened by it. So don't forget yourselves. You should be leading people rather than being led by them. Make your best efforts to practice well and establish yourselves firmly, and good results will come. > > Are there any doubts about practice you need to resolve now? > > *** > > Question: When the mind isn't thinking much, but is in a sort of dark and dull state, is there something we should do to brighten it? Or should we just sit with it? > > Ajahn Chah: Is this all the time or when you are sitting in meditation? What exactly is this darkness like? Is it a lack of wisdom? > > Question: When I sit to meditate, I don't get drowsy, but my mind feels dark, sort of dense or opaque. > > Ajahn Chah: So you would like to make your mind wise, right? Change your posture, and do a lot of walking meditation. That's one thing to do. You can walk for three hours at a time, until you're really tired. > > Question: I do walking meditation a couple of hours a day, and I usually have a lot of thinking when I do it. But what really concerns me is this dark state when I sit. Should I just try to be aware of it and let go, or is there some means I should use to counter it? > > Ajahn Chah: I think maybe your postures aren't balanced. When you walk, you have a lot of thinking. So you should do a lot of discursive contemplation; then the mind can retreat from thinking. It won't stick there. But never mind. For now, increase the time you spend on walking meditation. Focus on that. Then if the mind is wandering, pull it out and do some contemplation, such as, for example, investigation of the body. Have you ever done that continuously rather than as an occasional reflection? When you experience this dark state, do you suffer over it? > > Question: I feel frustrated because of my state of mind. I'm not developing samādhi or wisdom. > > Ajahn Chah: When you have this condition of mind the suffering comes about because of not knowing. There is doubt as to why the mind is like this. The important principle in meditation is that whatever occurs, don't be in doubt over it. Doubt only adds to the suffering. If the mind is bright and awake, don't doubt that. It's a condition of mind. If it's dark and dull, don't doubt about that. Just continue to practice diligently without getting caught up in reactions to that state. Taking note and being aware of your state of mind, don't have doubts about it. It is just what it is. When you entertain doubts and start grasping at it and giving it meaning, then it is dark. > > As you practice, these states are things you encounter as you progress along. You needn't have doubts about them. Notice them with awareness and keep letting go. How about sleepiness? Is your sitting more sleepy or awake? > > (No reply) > > Maybe it's hard to recall if you've been sleepy! If this happens meditate with your eyes open. Don't close them. Instead, you can focus your gaze on one point, such as the light of a candle. Don't close your eyes! This is one way to remove the hindrance of drowsiness. > > When you're sitting you can close your eyes from time to time and if the mind is clear, without drowsiness, you can then continue to sit with your eyes closed. If it's dull and sleepy, open your eyes and focus on the one point. It's similar to kasina meditation. Doing this, you can make the mind awake and tranquil. The sleepy mind isn't tranquil; it's obscured by hindrance and it's in darkness. > > We should talk about sleep also. You can't simply go without sleep. That's the nature of the body. If you're meditating and you get unbearably, utterly sleepy, then let yourself sleep. This is one way to quell the hindrance when it's overwhelming you. Otherwise you practice along, keeping the eyes open if you have this tendency to get drowsy. Close your eyes after a while and check your state of mind. If it's clear, you can practice with eyes closed. Then after some time you take a rest. Some people are always fighting against sleep. They force themselves not to sleep, and the result is that when they sit they are always drifting off to sleep and falling over themselves, sitting in an unaware state. > > Question: Can we focus on the tip of the nose? > > Ajahn Chah: That's fine. Whatever suits you, whatever you feel comfortable with and helps you fix your mind, focus on that. > > It's like this: if we get attached to the ideals and take the guidelines that we are given in the instructions too literally, it can be difficult to understand. When doing a standard meditation such as mindfulness of breathing, first we should make the determination that right now we are going to do this practice, and we are going to make mindfulness of breathing our foundation. We only focus on the breath at three points, as it passes through the nostrils, the chest and the abdomen. When the air enters it first passes the nose, then through the chest, then to the end point of the abdomen. As it leaves the body, the beginning is the abdomen, the middle is the chest, and the end is the nose. We merely note it. This is a way to start controlling the mind, tying awareness to these points at the beginning, middle and end of the inhalations and exhalations. > > Before we begin we should first sit and let the mind relax. It's similar to sewing robes on a treadle sewing machine. When we are learning to use the sewing machine, first we just sit in front of the machine to get familiar with it and feel comfortable. Here, we just sit and breathe. Not fixing awareness on anything, we merely take note that we are breathing. We take note of whether the breath is relaxed or not and how long or short it is. Having noticed this, then we begin focusing on the inhalation and exhalation at the three points. > > We practice like this until we become skilled in it and it goes smoothly. The next stage is to focus awareness only on the sensation of the breath at the tip of the nose or the upper lip. At this point we aren't concerned with whether the breath is long or short, but only focus on the sensation of entering and exiting. > > Different phenomena may contact the senses, or thoughts may arise. This is called initial thought (vitakka). The mind brings up some idea, be it about the nature of compounded phenomena (sankhārā), about the world, or whatever. Once the mind has brought it up, the mind will want to get involved and merge with it. If it's an object that is wholesome then let the mind take it up. If it is something unwholesome, stop it immediately. If it is something wholesome then let the mind contemplate it, and gladness, satisfaction and happiness will come about. The mind will be bright and clear; as the breath goes in and out and as the mind takes up these initial thoughts. Then it becomes discursive thought (vicāra). The mind develops familiarity with the object, exerting itself and merging with it. At this point, there is no sleepiness. > > After an appropriate period of this, take your attention back to the breath. Then as you continue on there will be the initial thought and discursive thought, initial thought and discursive thought. If you are contemplating skillfully on an object such as the nature of sankhāra, then the mind will experience deeper tranquility and rapture is born. There is the vitakka and vicāra, and that leads to happiness of mind. At this time there won't be any dullness or drowsiness. The mind won't be dark if we practice like this. It will be gladdened and enraptured. > > This rapture will start to diminish and disappear after a while, so you can take up the initial thought again. The mind will become firm and certain with it - undistracted. Then you go on to discursive thought again, the mind becoming one with it. When you are practicing a meditation that suits your temperament and doing it well, then whenever you take up the object, rapture will come about: the hairs of the body stand on end and the mind is enraptured and satiated. > > When it's like this there can't be any dullness or drowsiness. You won't have any doubts. Back and forth between initial and discursive thought, initial and discursive thought, over and over again and rapture comes. Then there is sukha (bliss). > > This takes place in sitting practice. After sitting for a while, you can get up and do walking meditation. The mind can be the same in the walking. Not sleepy, it has the vitakka and vicāra, vitakka and vicāra, then rapture. There won't be any of the nīvarana [3], and the mind will be unstained. Whatever takes place, never mind; you don't need to doubt about any experiences you may have, be they of light, of bliss, or whatever. Don't entertain doubts about these conditions of mind. If the mind is dark, if the mind is illumined, don't fixate on these conditions, don't be attached to them. Let go, discard them. Keep walking, keep noting what is taking place without getting bound or infatuated. Don't suffer over these conditions of mind. Don't have doubts about them. They are just what they are, following the way of mental phenomena. Sometimes the mind will be joyful. Sometimes it will be sorrowful. There can be happiness or suffering; there can be obstruction. Rather than doubting, understand that conditions of mind are like this; whatever manifests is coming about due to causes ripening. At this moment this condition is manifesting; that's what you should recognize. Even if the mind is dark you don't need to be upset over that. If it becomes bright, don't be excessively gladdened by that. Don't have doubts about these conditions of mind, or about your reactions to them. > > Do your walking meditation until you are really tired, then sit. When you sit determine your mind to sit; don't just play around. If you get sleepy, open your eyes and focus on some object. Walk until the mind separates itself from thoughts and is still, then sit. If you are clear and awake, you can close your eyes. If you get sleepy again, open your eyes and look at an object. > > Don't try to do this all day and all night. When you're in need of sleep let yourself sleep. Just as with our food: once a day we eat. The time comes and we give food to the body. The need for sleep is the same. When the time comes, give yourself some rest. When you've had an appropriate rest, get up. Don't let the mind languish in dullness, but get up and get to work - start practicing. Do a lot of walking meditation. If you walk slowly and the mind becomes dull, then walk fast. Learn to find the right pace for yourself. > > Question: Are vitakka and vicāra the same? > > Ajahn Chah: You're sitting and suddenly the thought of someone pops into your head - that's vitakka, the initial thought. Then you take that idea of the person and start thinking about them in detail. Vitakka is picking it up, vicāra is investigating it. For example, we pick up the idea of death and then we start considering it: "I will die, others will die, every living being will die; when they die where will they go?" Then stop! Stop and bring it back again. When it gets running like that, stop it again; and then go back to mindfulness of the breath. Sometimes the discursive thought will wander off and not come back, so you have to stop it. Keep at it until the mind is bright and clear. > > If you practice vicāra with an object that you are suited to, you may experience the hairs of your body standing on end, tears pouring from your eyes, a state of extreme delight, many different things as rapture comes. > > Question: Can this happen with any kind of thinking, or is it only in a state of tranquility that it happens? > > Ajahn Chah: It's when the mind is tranquil. It's not ordinary mental proliferation. You sit with a calm mind and then the initial thought comes. For example, I think of my brother who just passed away. Or I might think of some other relatives. This is when the mind is tranquil - the tranquility isn't something certain, but for the moment the mind is tranquil. After this initial thought comes then I go into discursive thought. If it's a line of thinking that's skillful and wholesome, it leads to ease of mind and happiness, and there is rapture with its attendant experiences. This rapture came from the initial and discursive thinking that took place in a state of calmness. We don't have to give it names such as first jhāna, second jhāna and so forth. We just call it tranquility. > > The next factor is bliss (sukha). Eventually we drop the initial and discursive thinking as tranquility deepens. Why? The state of mind is becoming more refined and subtle. Vitakka and vicāra are relatively coarse, and they will vanish. There will remain just the rapture accompanied by bliss and one-pointedness of mind. When it reaches full measure there won't be anything, the mind is empty. That's absorption concentration. > > We don't need to fixate or dwell on any of these experiences. They will naturally progress from one to the next. At first there is initial and discursive thought, rapture, bliss and one-pointedness. Then initial and discursive thinking are thrown off, leaving rapture, bliss, and one-pointedness. Rapture is thrown off [4], then bliss, and finally only one-pointedness and equanimity remain. It means the mind becomes more and more tranquil, and its objects are steadily decreasing until there is nothing but one-pointedness and equanimity. > > When the mind is tranquil and focused this can happen. It is the power of mind, the state of the mind that has attained tranquility. When it's like this there won't be any sleepiness. It can't enter the mind; it will disappear. As for the other hindrances of sensual desire, aversion, doubt and restlessness and agitation, they just won't be present. Though they may still exist latent in the mind of the meditator, they won't occur at this time. > > Question: Should we be closing our eyes so as to shut out the external environment or should we just deal with things as we see them? Is it important whether we open or close the eyes? > > Ajahn Chah: When we are new to training, it's important to avoid too much sensory input, so it's better to close the eyes. Not seeing objects that can distract and affect us, we build up the mind's strength. When the mind is strong then we can open the eyes and whatever we see won't sway us. Open or closed won't matter. > > When you rest you normally close your eyes. Sitting in meditation with eyes closed is the dwelling place for a practitioner. We find enjoyment and rest in it. This is an important basis for us. But when we are not sitting in meditation will we be able to deal with things? We sit with eyes closed and we profit from that. When we open our eyes and leave the formal meditation, we can handle whatever we meet. Things won't get out of hand. We won't be at a loss. Basically we are just handling things. It's when we go back to our sitting that we really develop greater wisdom. > > This is how we develop the practice. When it reaches fulfillment then it doesn't matter whether we open or close our eyes, it will be the same. The mind won't change or deviate. At all times of the day - morning, noon or night - the state of mind will be the same. We dwell thus. There is nothing that can shake the mind. When happiness arises, we recognize, "It's not certain," and it passes. Unhappiness arises and we recognize, "It's not certain," and that's that. You get the idea that you want to disrobe. This is not certain. But you think it's certain. Before you wanted to be ordained, and you were so sure about that. Now you are sure you want to disrobe. It's all uncertain, but you don't see it because of your darkness of mind. Your mind is telling you lies, "Being here, I'm only wasting time." If you disrobe and go back to the world, won't you waste time there? You don't think about that. Disrobing to work in the fields and gardens, to grow beans or raise pigs and goats, won't that be a waste of time? > > There was once a large pond full of fish. As time passed, the rainfall decreased and the pond became shallow. One day a bird showed up at the edge of the pond. He told the fish, "I really feel sorry for you fish. Here you barely have enough water to keep your backs wet. Do you know that not very far from here there's a big lake, several meters deep where the fish swim happily?" > > When the fish in that shallow pond heard this, they got excited. They said to the bird, "It sounds good. But how could we get there?" > > The bird said, "No problem. I can carry you in my bill, one at a time." > > The fish discussed it among themselves. "It's not so great here anymore. The water doesn't even cover our heads. We ought to go." So they lined up to be taken by the bird. > > The bird took one fish at a time. As soon as he flew out of sight of the pond, he landed and ate the fish. Then he would return to the pond and tell them, "Your friend is right this moment swimming happily in the lake, and he asks when you will be joining him!" > > It sounded fantastic to the fish. They couldn't wait to go, so they started pushing to get to the head of the line. > > The bird finished off the fish like that. Then he went back to the pond to see if he could find any more. There was only one crab there. So the bird started his sales pitch about the lake. > > The crab was skeptical. He asked the bird how he could get there. The bird told him he would carry him in his bill. But this crab had some wisdom. He told the bird, "Let's do it like this - I'll sit on your back with my arms around your neck. If you try any tricks, I'll choke you with my claws." > > The bird felt frustrated by this, but he gave it a try thinking he might still somehow get to eat the crab. So the crab got on his back and they took off. > > The bird flew around looking for a good place to land. But as soon as he tried to descend, the crab started squeezing his throat with his claws. The bird couldn't even cry out. He just made a dry, croaking sound. So in the end he had to give up and return the crab to the pond. > > I hope you can have the wisdom of the crab! If you are like those fish, you will listen to the voices that tell you how wonderful everything will be if you go back to the world. That's an obstacle ordained people meet with. Please be careful about this. > > *** > > Question: Why is it that unpleasant states of mind are difficult to see clearly, while pleasant states are easy to see? When I experience happiness or pleasure I can see that it's something impermanent, but when I'm unhappy that's harder to see. > > Ajahn Chah: You are thinking in terms of your attraction and aversion and trying to figure it out, but actually delusion is the predominant root. You feel that unhappiness is hard to see while happiness is easy to see. That's just the way your afflictions work. Aversion is hard to let go of, right? It's a strong feeling. You say happiness is easy to let go of. It's not really easy; it's just that it's not so overpowering. Pleasure and happiness are things people like and feel comfortable with. They're not so easy to let go of. Aversion is painful, but people don't know how to let go of it. The truth is that they are equal. When you contemplate thoroughly and get to a certain point you will quickly recognize that they're equal. If you had a scale to weigh them their weight would be the same. But we incline towards the pleasurable. > > Are you saying that you can let go of happiness easily, while unhappiness is difficult to let go of? You think that the things we like are easy to give up, but you're wondering why the things we dislike are hard to give up. But if they're not good, why are they hard to give up? It's not like that. Think anew. They are completely equal. It's just that we don't incline to them equally. When there is unhappiness we feel bothered, we want it to go away quickly and so we feel it's hard to get rid of. Happiness doesn't usually bother us, so we are friends with it and feel we can let go of it easily. It's not like that; it's not oppressing and squeezing our hearts, that's all. Unhappiness oppresses us. We think one has more value or weight than the other, but in truth they are equal. It's like heat and cold. We can be burned to death by fire. We can also be frozen stiff by cold and we die just the same. Neither is greater than the other. Happiness and suffering are like this, but in our thinking we give them different value. > > Or consider praise and criticism. Do you feel that praise is easy to let go of and criticism is hard to let go of? They are really equal. But when we are praised we don't feel disturbed; we are pleased, but it's not a sharp feeling. Criticism is painful, so we feel it's hard to let go of. Being pleased is also hard to let go of, but we are partial to it so we don't have the same desire to get rid of it quickly. The delight we take in being praised and the sting we feel when criticized are equal. They are the same. But when our minds meet these things we have unequal reactions to them. We don't mind being close to some of them. > > Please understand this. In our meditation we will meet with the arising of all sorts of mental afflictions. The correct outlook is to be ready to let go of all of it, whether pleasant or painful. Even though happiness is something we desire and suffering is something we don't desire, we recognize they are of equal value. These are things that we will experience. > > Happiness is wished for by people in the world. Suffering is not wished for. Nibbāna is something beyond wishing or not wishing. Do you understand? There is no wishing involved in Nibbāna. Wanting to get happiness, wanting to be free of suffering, wanting to transcend happiness and suffering - there are none of these things. It is peace. > > As I see it, realizing the truth doesn't happen by relying on others. You should understand that all doubts will be resolved by our own efforts, by continuous, energetic practice. We won't get free of doubt by asking others. We will only end doubt through our own unrelenting efforts. > > Remember this! It's an important principle in practice. The actual doing is what will instruct you. You will come to know all right and wrong. "The Brahmin shall reach the exhaustion of doubt through unceasing practice." It doesn't matter wherever we go - everything can be resolved through our own ceaseless efforts. But we can't stick with it. We can't bear the difficulties we meet; we find it hard to face up to our suffering and not to run away from it. If we do face it and bear with it, then we gain knowledge, and the practice starts instructing us automatically, teaching us about right and wrong and the way things really are. Our practice will show us the faults and ill results of wrong thinking. It really happens like this. But it's hard to find people who can see it through. Everyone wants instant awakening. Rushing here and there following your impulses, you only end up worse off for it. Be careful about this. > > I've often taught that tranquility is stillness; flowing is wisdom. We practice meditation to calm the mind and make it still; then it can flow. > > In the beginning we learn what still water is like and what flowing water is like. After practicing for a while we will see how these two support each other. We have to make the mind calm, like still water. Then it flows. Both being still and flowing: this is not easy to contemplate. > > We can understand that still water doesn't flow. We can understand that flowing water isn't still. But when we practice we take hold of both of these. The mind of a true practitioner is like still water that flows, or flowing water that's still. Whatever takes place in the mind of a Dhamma practitioner is like flowing water that is still. To say that it is only flowing is not correct. Only still is not correct. But ordinarily, still water is still and flowing water flows. But when we have experience of practice, our minds will be in this condition of flowing water that is still. > > This is something we've never seen. When we see flowing water it is just flowing along. When we see still water, it doesn't flow. But within our minds, it will really be like this; like flowing water that is still. In our Dhamma practice we have samādhi, or tranquility, and wisdom mixed together. We have morality, meditation and wisdom. Then wherever we sit the mind is still and it flows. Still, flowing water. With meditative stability and wisdom, tranquility and insight, it's like this. The Dhamma is like this. If you have reached the Dhamma, then at all times you will have this experience. Being tranquil and having wisdom: flowing, yet still. Still, yet flowing. > > Whenever this occurs in the mind of one who practices, it is something different and strange; it is different from the ordinary mind that one has known all along. Before when it was flowing, it flowed. When it was still, it didn't flow, but was only still - the mind can be compared to water in this way. Now it has entered a condition that is like flowing water being still. Whether standing, walking, sitting, or lying down, it is like water that flows yet is still. Making our minds like this there is both tranquility and wisdom. > > What is the purpose of tranquility? Why should we have wisdom? They are only for the purpose of freeing ourselves from suffering, nothing else. At present we are suffering, living with dukkha, not understanding dukkha, and therefore holding onto it. But if the mind is as I've been speaking about then there will be many kinds of knowledge. One will know suffering, know the cause of suffering, know the cessation of suffering and know the way of practice to reach the end of suffering. These are the Noble Truths. They will appear of themselves when there is still, flowing water. > > When it is like this then no matter what we are doing we will have no heedlessness; the habit of heedlessness will weaken and disappear. Whatever we experience we won't fall into heedlessness because the mind will naturally hold fast to the practice. It will be afraid of losing the practice. As we keep on practicing and learning from experience we will be drinking of the Dhamma more and more, and our faith will keep increasing. > > For one who practices it has to be like this. We shouldn't be the kind of people who merely follow others: If our friends aren't doing the practice we won't do it either because we would feel embarrassed. If they stop, we stop. If they do it, we do it. If the teacher tells us to do something, we do it. If he stops, we stop. This is not a very quick way to realization. > > What's the point of our training here? It's so that when we are alone, we will be able to continue with the practice. So now while living together here, when there are morning and evening gatherings to practice, we join in and practice with the others. We build up the habit so that the way of practice is internalized in our hearts, and then we will be able to live anywhere and still practice in the same way. > > It's like having a certificate of guarantee. If the King is coming here, we prepare everything as perfectly as we can. He stays a short while and then goes on his way, but he gives his royal seal to acknowledge that things are in order here. Now many of us are practicing together, and it's the time to learn the practice well, to understand it and internalize it so that each of you can be a witness to yourself. It's like children coming of age.”

Footnotes

[1] One of Ajahn Chah's favorite plays on words. "Wat Pah Nanachat Bung Wai" (International Forest Monastery of Bung Wai) vs. "Wat Pah Nanachat Woon Wai" (International Forest Monastery of Confusion and Trouble).

[2] This is a standard way of doing business in Asia, especially in villages and small towns, but even in Japanese cities. A pickup truck drives around with a loudspeaker and products to sell.

[3] Nīvarana are the five hindrances: desire, anger, restlessness and agitation, sloth and torpor, doubt.

[4] The scriptures usually say, "with the fading of rapture".

Desana Link

^(Collected Teachings)

Venerable Ajahn Paññavaddho was for 41 years the senior-most Western bhikkhu following Venerable Ajahn Mun's path of practice. A pioneer of the Western Sangha, his calm presence and selfless devotion touched countless monks and laypeople. He translated Ajahn Maha Boowa's teachings into English, introducing generations to the Thai forest tradition. He he was highly praised by Luang Dta as a great resource for the western monks.

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KEY BIOGRAPHY HIGHLIGHTS

• Born 19 Oct 1925 in Kolar Gold Fields, South India (Welsh parents)
• Ordained as samanera in London (1955), then bhikkhu in Bangkok (1956)
• Returned to Thailand in 1961 seeking a true teacher
• Became disciple of Ajaan Maha Boowa at Wat Pa Baan Taad (1963)
• Re-ordained in Dhammayuta Nikaya (1965)
• Passed away peacefully on 18 Aug 2004 at Wat Pa Baan Taad
• Funeral attended by ~50,000 people; a circular rainbow appeared thrice around the sun on the day of his cremation

NOTABLE HARDSHIPS OVERCOME

• Bovine tuberculosis in right foot as teen → fused ankle, lifelong disability
• Escaped military service in WWII (avoided bad kamma)
• Lived in remote, hot jungles of NE Thailand
• Language barrier (learned Thai to follow Venerable Ajahn Maha Boowa)
• Applied engineering skills to build monastery infrastructure

Remembering Venerable Ajahn Panya: "His heart was purely and simply at peace."

Luang Por Chah Simile

> “We live like a chicken who doesn't know what's going on. In the morning it takes its baby chicks out to scratch for food. In the evening, it goes back to sleep in the coop. The next morning it goes out to look for food again. Its owner scatters rice for it to eat every day, but it doesn't know why its owner is feeding it. The chicken and its owner are thinking in very different ways. > > The owner is thinking, "How much does the chicken weigh?" The chicken, though, is engrossed in the food. When the owner picks it up to heft its weight, it thinks the owner is showing affection. > > We too don't know what's going on: where we come from, how many more years we'll live, where we'll go, who will take us there. We don't know this at all. > > The King of Death is like the owner of the chicken. We don't know when he'll catch up with us, for we're engrossed — engrossed in sights, sounds, smells, tastes, tactile sensations, and ideas. We have no sense that we're growing older. We have no sense of enough.”

^(From 108 Luang Por Chah Similes)

^(Image of Yama from)^( )^(thairath.co.th)

> The Most Venerable Mahāthera
> Ledi Sayādaw Aggamahāpaṇḍita
> 1846-1923 > > --- > > * The most eminent and highly respected teacher
> of Tipiṭaka, > > * The most gifted and summit scholar, > > * The bravest and boldest author, > > * The great pioneer of meditation master, > > * The most excellent preacher of the Dhamma, > > * The most admired and the brightest eye of
> the west.

> The Vipassana Dipani
> Or
> The Exposition of Insight
> > Honour to the Buddha > > ### The Three Vipallāsa > > Vipallāsa means hallucination, delusion, erroneous observation, or taking that which is true as being false, and that which is false as true. > > There are three kinds of vipallāsa, to wit: > > 1. saññā-vipallāsa: hallucination of perception;
> 2. citta-vipallāsa: hallucination of thought;
> 3. diṭṭhi-vipallāsa: hallucination of views. > > Of these three, hallucination of perception is fourfold, thus: > > 1. it erroneously perceives impermanence as permanence;
> 2. impurity as purity;
> 3. ill as good; and
> 4. no-soul as soul. > > The same holds good with regard to the remaining two vipallāsa, i.e. those of thinking and viewing. All these classifications come under the category of “This is mine!” “This is my self or living soul!” and will be made clear later. > > The three vipallāsa may be illustrated respectively by the similes of the wild deer, the magician, and a man who has lost his way. > > This is the simile of the wild deer to illustrate the hallucination of perception. > > In the middle of a great forest a certain husbandman cultivated a piece of paddy land. While the cultivator was away, wild deer were in the habit of coming to the field and eating the young spikes of growing grain. So the cultivator put some straw together into the shape of a man and set it up in the middle of the field in order to frighten the deer away. > > He tied the straws together with fibres with the resemblance of a body, with head, hands and legs; and with white lime painting on a pot the lineaments of a human face, he set it on the top of the body. He also covered the artificial man with some old clothes such as a coat, and so forth, and put a bow and arrow into his hands. Now the deer came as usual to eat the young paddy, but approaching it and catching sight of the artificial man, they took it for a real one, were frightened and ran away. > > In this illustration, the wild deer had seen men before and retained in their memory the perception of the shape and form of men. In accordance with their present perception, they took the straw man for a real man. Thus their perception of it was an erroneous perception. The hallucination of perception is as here shown in this allegory of the wild deer. > > It is very clear and easy to understand. This particular hallucination is also illustrated in the case of a bewildered man who has lost his way and cannot make out the cardinal points, east and west, in the locality in which he is, although the rising and setting of the sun may be distinctly perceived by anyone with open eyes. If the error has once been made, it establishes itself very firmly, and is only with great difficulty to be removed. > > There are many things within ourselves which we are always apprehending erroneously and in a sense the reverse of the truth as regards impermanence and no-soul. Thus through the hallucination of perception we apprehend things erroneously in exactly the same way that the wild deer take the straw man to be a real man even with their eyes wide open. > > Now for the simile of the magician to illustrate the hallucination of thought. > > There is a pretended art called magic by means of which when lumps of earth are exhibited in the presence of a crowd, all who look at them think they are lumps of gold and silver. The power of the magical art is such as to take from men their ordinary power of seeing and in its place put an extraordinary kind of sight. It can thus, for a time, turn the mind upside down, so to speak. When persons are in command of themselves they see lumps of earth as they are. But under the influence of this magical art, they see the lumps of earth as lumps of gold and silver with all their qualities of brightness, yellowness, whiteness, and so forth. Thus, their beliefs, observations, or ideas, become erroneous. > > In the same way our thoughts and ideas are in the habit of wrongly taking false things as true and thus we delude ourselves. For instance, at night we are often deceived into thinking we see a man when it is really the stump of a tree that we are looking at. Or, on seeing a bush, we imagine we are looking at a wild elephant, or, seeing a wild elephant, take it to be a bush. > > In this world all our mistaken ideas as to what comes within the field of our observation are due to the action of the hallucination of thought, which is deeper and more unfathomable than that of perception, since it deludes us by making false things seem true. However, as it is not so firmly rooted as the latter, it can easily be removed by investigation or by searching into the causes and conditions of things. > > Now for the simile of the man who has lost his way to illustrate the hallucination of views. > > There was a large forest haunted by evil spirits, demons, who lived there building towns and villages. There came some travellers who were not acquainted with the roads through the forest. The demons created their towns and villages as splendidly as those of devas, or celestial beings, and themselves assumed the forms of male and female devas. They also made the roads as pleasant and delightful as those of the devas. When the travellers saw these, they believed that these pleasant roads would lead them to large towns and villages, and so, turning aside from the right roads, they went astray following the wrong and misleading ones, arriving at the towns of the demons and suffering accordingly. > > In this allegory, the large forest stands for the three worlds of kāma-loka, rūpa-loka and arūpa-loka. The travellers are all those who inhabit these worlds. The right road is right views, and the misleading road is wrong views. The right views here spoken of are of two kinds, namely, those that pertain to the world, and those pertaining to Enlightenment. Of these two, the former is meant to connote the right view: “All beings are the owners of their deeds; and every deed, both moral and immoral, committed by oneself is one’s own property and follows one throughout the whole long course of life”, while the latter is meant to connote the knowledge of the Doctrine of Causal Genesis, of the aggregates, of the āyatana (bases), and no-soul. > > Of these two views, the former is as the right road to the round of existences. The worlds of the fortunate (i.e. the abodes of human beings, devas, and Brahmas), are like the towns of good people. The erroneous views that deny moral and immoral deeds and their results or effects, and come under the names of natthika-diṭṭhi, ahetuka-diṭṭhi, and akiriya-diṭṭhi, are like the wrong, misleading roads. The worlds of the unfortunate which are the abodes of the tortured, of animals, petas, and asūras, are like the towns of the demons. > > The right view of knowledge which is one of the factors of Enlightenment, is like the right road that leads out of the round of existence. Nibbāna is like the town of good people. The views “my body!” “my soul!” are also like the wrong and misleading roads. The world comprising the abodes of human beings, devas, and Brahmas, or the ceaseless renewing of existences, is like the towns of the demons. > > The aforesaid erroneous views are known as the hallucinations, such being deeper and more firmly established than that of thought.'

^(Study version provided by Pian dei Ciliegi Vipassanā center, copyright reserved)

^(high res image here, didn't correctly post first photo)

> “I had been constantly hearing the sound of guns out off the coast, and as soon as the incident occurred, I thought of bullets. Some people got up and were getting ready to chase after the bandits, so I stopped them. ‘Don’t get involved,’ I said. ‘Don’t go after them. If they’re good people, you should follow them, but if they’re bad people, don’t. Follow me instead. I’m not afraid of anything—including bullets, not to mention bricks. >
> > If you’re shot in the mouth, it’ll come out your rear, > > > > So there’s no one in the world you should fear.’ >
> As soon as they heard this, the whole group fell silent. I then delivered a sermon on the theme,
>
> ‘Non-violence is happiness in the world.’”

Luang Por Lee quote from his Autobiography

>“In the end we can say only this - apart from the birth, the life and the death of suffering, there is nothing. There is just this. But we who are ignorant run and grab it constantly. We never see the truth of it, that there's simply this continual change. If we understand this then we don't need to think very much, but we have much wisdom. If we don't know it, then we will have more thinking than wisdom - and maybe no wisdom at all! It's not until we truly see the harmful results of our actions that we can give them up. Likewise, it's not until we see the real benefits of practice that we can follow it, and begin working to make the mind 'good'.”
>
> — Luang Por Chah

• Given to the assembly of monks and novices at Wat Pah Nanachat, during the rains retreat, 1978.

• Right View Desana

> “Though one should conquer in battle
> a thousand times a thousand men,
> yet he who would conquer
> just one thing—himself—
> he indeed is the utmost vanquisher.”

^(Dhammapada 103, Lord Buddha)

^(The victor of the highest battle is not somebody who conquers millions of enemies, who wins over his opponents, but a person who conquers the most difficult thing - his own mind.)^( comment from)^( NTU)

Dipa Ma was a renowned student of Mahasi Sayadaw and Anagarika Munindra.

The HEART and Metta

§22. “Meditation is love.”

§23. “Bless those around you. If you bless those around you, this will inspire you to be attentive in every moment.”

§24. “I feel loving thoughts and lovingkindness towards everyone. I don’t discriminate.”

§26. “Your heart knows everything.”

§27. “You are all my dharma children.”

§28. “Whatever comes in life, I embrace.”

§29. “Your mind is your friend.”

§30. “If your life is in trouble, do metta (lovingkindness practices).”

source

> “It has become normal for us to think that our thoughts and mental states are the mind, but they definitely are not. Nevertheless, the mind likes to think they are. That’s a delusion. The flow of thoughts and emotions is just conditions or states of mind, but the mind attaches to this flow, believing it to be the mind itself. This being so, whenever we experience feelings of greed, anger, satisfaction or dissatisfaction, we will consider the emotion to be the self, to be ‘me’. > > We continue to suffer for our entire lives, all because the mind believes its thoughts and emotions are the self. What we need, therefore, is to have mindfulness and wisdom contemplate our moods and emotions to see their impermanence as they arise and cease. We must try to separate the mind from the stream of thoughts and emotions, but to do so we have to develop mindfulness and concentration. > > Once the mind is peaceful and concentrated, it will naturally separate from this stream all by itself and remain detached or neutral whenever thoughts and emotions arise. As a consequence, when the eyes see forms, the feelings of either attraction or aversion that arise will not affect the mind. The mind will remain unmoved, settled in the present moment.”

The Sacred Equation, Luang Por Dtun, Thiracitto

> "When we live by a correct moral code of behaviour, that serves as the basis for the goodness and virtue that make us good, decent human beings. The moral standard that is appropriate or befitting for humans is to observe the five moral precepts. Observing these precepts makes one a good human being. When maintaining the moral precepts has become normal, our hearts will experience a degree of coolness and peacefulness because they are free from the distress and remorse that come from improper or immoral behaviour. > > The moral precepts aid us in restraining our actions and speech. They work to control the mind so that we do not speak or behave improperly [...] So by observing moral precepts we are able to control our actions and speech. Our mind, however, is still not peaceful. It remains worked up and restless, always beguiled by or lost in its thoughts and emotions. So once we’ve realized that our mind is agitated, we have to find a way to make it peaceful. But what must we do to restrain the mind, to prevent it from thinking all the meaningless things it wants, and from thinking unduly about the past or future? How do we stop all its restlessness, distress and uneasiness? To > > have the mindfulness and wisdom to govern the heart and to filter out all the bad, unwholesome things within it, including all our unhappiness and discontent, it is necessary for us to practise meditation so as to develop concentration. It is the practice of meditation that enables us to take control of our hearts. > > Concentration is developed by bringing mindfulness to focus on a meditation object that is suited to one’s temperament, such as being mindful of the in and out breath or internally reciting the meditation word ‘Buddho’. When we have free time we should cultivate mindfulness and develop concentration in either of the formal postures of sitting or walking, practising for as long as time permits. Try to practise frequently. Work at it, really develop it. When it’s time to break from sitting or walking meditation, we must always try to sustain our mindfulness by being attentive to the mind’s thoughts and emotions. The common expression used for this is ‘to watch the mind’ (in Thai: Do jit). However, it isn’t really the mind that is being watched, but rather the contents of the mind, its thoughts and emotions. This is why you must have mindfulness by watching the thoughts and emotions within your mind: they are not the mind, they are just its contents, or mere states of mind > > [...] > > With frequent meditation practice our mindfulness will become firmly established, and it can be put to use by ‘watching the mind’ or, more correctly, watching the mental and emotional activity within the mind. We will see what the objects of the mind’s awareness are and the effect they have on the mind. Whenever the eyes see forms, the ears hear sounds, the nose smells odours, the tongue tastes flavours or the body feels sensations of heat, cold, softness or hardness, the mind will be affected and will give rise to feelings of liking or disliking, happiness or unhappiness. We therefore use mindfulness to keep a watch on our sensory impressions and their resulting emotions. The mental strength acquired from practising concentration supports and firmly anchors one’s mindfulness. This in turn enables us to witness all the mind’s movements and feelings. > > If we don’t develop concentration our mindfulness will be adrift, allowing the mind to be easily moved by its sensory impressions, moods and emotions. This state can be compared to a tall clump of grass. From whatever direction the wind blows, north, south, east or west, the grass bends and sways along with the wind. Our minds are no different from the grass, blown about by all the arising sensory impressions, emotions and thoughts. We need our minds to be strong, rock-solid, like a huge, towering mountain that remains unaffected by any storm. Send in any storm, even a violent tornado, and such a mountain remains unmoved by the wind and rain. The hearts of anāgāmīs and arahants4 are rock-solid, just like a mountain. If we are to make our minds firm and strong like theirs, we too must develop concentration."

The Sacred Equation, Luang Por Dtun, Thiracitto

A short desna for this occasion.

>Vesākha’s Significance
Vesākha marks the sacred full moon commemorating the birth (jāti), enlightenment (sambodhi), and final parinibbāna of Lord Buddha. It is a profound wonder of the Dhamma that these three events aligned on the exact same lunar day, marking the beginning, fulfillment, and completion of Lord Buddha's final life. > >The Rarity of the Path
The arising of a Buddha is an event of rare and profound significance. The Bodhisatta journeyed for four incalculable aeons (asaṅkheyyas) and one hundred thousand world-cycles (mahākappas) to reach this realization from his determination to become a Buddha. Because we have no guarantee of when the next Buddha will arise, we must embrace the practice now, while the Light of Dhamma shines before us. > >Buddhānussati — Recollection
On Vesākha, we recollect the qualities of Lord Buddha to inspire our own conduct and recommit to our higher aspirations. The Buddha is the living embodiment of the Dhamma—the highest purity and wisdom possible, like the brother of the sun, luminous and profound. We continue to nourish generosity, to strengthen our commitment to the precepts, and to refine the Noble Eightfold Path. Laypeople can emulate the great lay disciples of the Buddha’s time. Monks can emulate Venerable Sāriputta and Venerable Moggallāna. > >The Fulfillment of Pāramīs
Lord Buddha is the pinnacle of spiritual perfection, the foremost among heavenly and human beings. His realization reflected the fulfillment of the ten Pāramīs: generosity (dāna), virtue (sīla), renunciation of sense pleasures (nekkhamma), wisdom (paññā), energy (viriya), patience (khanti), truthfulness (sacca), determination (adhiṭṭhāna), loving-kindness (mettā), and the highest pāramī equanimity (upekkhā). > >Sambodhi — Enlightenment > >On the night of awakening, the Bodhisatta determined not to arise until supreme enlightenment. Māra and his hordes attacked, and at that time the Bodhisatta transformed Māra and his armies' arrows into flowers. When Māra asked who would be the Bodhisatta's witness to enlightenment, the Bodhisatta reached down and touched the earth, which quaked and trembled in frightful awe, and all of Māra’s hordes dispersed. Only after defeating Māra, after the three watches of the night, did the Bodhisatta, the Buddha to be, realize full awakening. By dawn, he was the Fully Self-Awakened Buddha. > >Parinibbāna — Final Liberation
Before realizing Parinibbāna, the Buddha encouraged us: "Come, Ānanda, live striving for the highest good, being devoted to the highest good, being heedful of the highest good, ardent, and resolute." (DN 16) "... I tell you all conditioned things are subject to decay, strive on with heedfulness!" Lord Buddha then realised the Final Emancipation, Parinibbāna, the highest peace. > >We can see the core teachings also in a Dhammapada verse (Dhp 183): “Not to do any evil, to cultivate good, to purify one's heart, this is the Teaching of all the Buddhas.” > >Observing Vesākha
We observe this day through dāna (generosity), sīla (virtue), and bhāvanā (mental cultivation). We light candles and incense, we give flowers and requisites we join in chanting, meditation, we offer alms, we join in the candle lit procession. We put the Buddha’s Teachings into practice and encourage eachother in the Dhamma, coming together to share in this suspicious goodness. We do this for the higher fulfillment of our determinations and as a gift of our gratitude to the Buddha, the Dhamma, and the Saṅgha. > >Sādhu, sādhu, sādhu. > >Bhikkhu K

^(I didn't get to share the whole speach today so thought I would share it here)

> Training in Virtue > > Precepts for Lay People > > “There are three sets of precepts for laypeople: the five precepts, the eight precepts, and the ten guidelines. Here we will discuss the five and the eight precepts first, saving the ten guidelines for later. > > The five precepts can be divided into two sorts: those dealing with bodily action and those dealing with speech. Normality in bodily action is expressed by three precepts: refraining from taking life, from stealing, and from engaging in illicit sex. Normality in speech is expressed by the precept against lying, which involves refraining not only from lying, but also from divisive tale-bearing, from coarse or abusive speech, and from aimless or idle talk. As for the precept against taking intoxicants, it fits in with the third precept—against illicit sex—in that both deal with forms of intoxication. > > The eight precepts are derived from the five—and, like the five, can be divided into two sorts. Seven deal with bodily action: refraining from taking life; from stealing the possessions of others; from any and all sexual intercourse; from taking intoxicants; from eating food during the period from noon until the following dawn; from watching dancing, singing, instrumental music, and other shows, and from using garlands, perfumes, cosmetics, and jewelry; and from using high and luxurious beds and seats. > > The precept dealing with speech is to refrain from telling lies—and also from divisive tale-bearing, from coarse or abusive speech, and from aimless or idle chatter, these latter three being conducive to outright lying. > > The precepts, whether five or eight, are ultimately two: right normalcy in bodily action and right normalcy in speech. Sīla, the Pali word for virtue and precept, literally means normalcy—a quality that can be separated into either five or eight component virtues. The eight uposatha precepts do away with more defilements of bodily action than do either the five precepts or the ten guidelines. > > The bodily actions of a person who observes them weigh lightly, like those of one who is ordained. (Speaking of ordination, for women at least, it would appear that a person who observes the eight precepts does away with more greed, anger, and delusion in terms of bodily action than did the sikkhamānā (aspirants to nunhood) of the past. Although as a novice the sikkhamānā was expected to observe the ten precepts, still when she was about to be ordained as a nun she had to be strict in observing only the first six.) So whoever observes the eight precepts can be said to lead one form of the holy life—kāla-brahmacariya, temporary renunciation—the only difference being that one doesn’t have to change one’s mode of dress. > > It’s a rare man or woman who will act in this way. Whoever does can be counted as a person of value, a vessel for what is skillful, into which the practice of concentration (samādhi) should be placed. > > The ten guidelines, unlike the five and eight precepts, don’t have to be taken as vows. Once you understand them, simply go ahead and follow them. Altogether, they are of three sorts; three principles dealing with bodily action, four with speech, and three with the heart. The three principles dealing with bodily action are like those of the five precepts: not taking life, not stealing, and not engaging in illicit sex or taking intoxicants (the last two being counted as one). The four principles dealing with speech are derived from the precept against lying: refraining from lying; from divisive tale-bearing; from coarse or abusive speech; and from idle, aimless, and useless chatter. > > The three principles dealing with the heart are: anabhijjhā—not coveting the possessions of others; abyāpāda—not feeling ill will, i.e. not wanting others to suffer misfortune; and sammā-diṭṭhi—right view, being convinced that good and evil really exist, and that the pleasure and pain we experience come from our own good and bad actions: Whoever does good will meet with good, whoever does evil will meet with evil. > > So altogether there are ten guidelines. These guidelines are termed kusala kammapatha, skillful policies or clean actions. They are policies that should be adopted and followed—the more constantly, the better. Defilements related to greed will die away; those related to anger and delusion won’t have a chance to arise. Greed arises from the thought of coveting—focusing desire on what you want to acquire—which is then expressed as greed in one’s thoughts, words, and deeds. One’s thoughts thus become restless and disturbed, struggling to the point where they create trouble in thought, word, and deed—a whole pile of unskillfulness and defilement. As for anger, it arises from ill will, which then gives rise to hostility and finally to anger, fury, and violence. One’s thoughts, words, and deeds thus become unskillful. Delusion arises from wrong views, from ignorance of right and wrong, good and evil, making one’s thoughts, words, and deeds unskillful and defiled. > > So you should kill these things off at their source. Kill off covetousness by sharing your possessions with others—with your children, brothers, sisters, relatives, friends, monks, nuns, and recluses—which in the long run will be to your own benefit. This is termed generosity (dāna). Kill off ill will by developing thoughts of good will, compassion, empathetic joy, and equanimity; and avoid detrimental actions by observing the precepts (sīla). Kill off wrong views by associating with people who are knowledgeable, learning from them so as to develop your own discernment into how to do what is good. This is termed mental development (bhāvanā). > > These are the techniques for curing greed, anger, and delusion. Covetousness, ill will, and wrong views are the taproots of defilement; greed, anger, and delusion are the crown. The thoughts, words, and deeds that express these qualities form the trunk and branches, and the fruit is pain: the pain of birth, aging, illness, and death; of sorrow, lamentation, pain, distress, and despair. Normally, when we’ve eaten the flesh of a fruit, if we don’t destroy the seed, it will have a chance to sprout and form another tree. So it is with defilement: If we don’t destroy the seed, it’ll produce more fruit. Thoughts tainted with clinging: These are the seed. People who don’t realize this imagine this fruit to be something tasty and delicious, and so are unwilling to abandon and destroy covetousness, greed, ill will, and wrong views. As a result, they spin around in this cycle in various ways, under the influence of these three sorts of defilement. When these defilements arise in full force, whatever status one may have will be shattered, whatever wealth one has will be lost, the good opinion of others will turn to censure, one’s happiness will turn to misery, one’s friends will flee, and one’s family will fall apart—or even if it doesn’t fall apart, it will be pained with sorrow, as if its heart were scalded with boiling water. > > So we should kill off these defilements by being generous with our belongings; by observing the five precepts, the eight precepts, or the ten guidelines; and by practicing concentration to develop the mind, making it firm, unwavering, and still. Once these defilements die, then even if you’ve never had wealth, you’ll be wealthy; even if you’ve never known happiness, you’ll be happy; even if you’ve never reached heaven, you’ll get there; even if you’ve never reached nibbāna, you’ll attain it, constant and unchanging, in line with the Buddha’s verse on the rewards of the five precepts: > > sīlena sugatiṃ yanti
> Through virtue they go to heaven.
>
> sīlena bhoga-sampadā
> Through virtue wealth is attained.
>
> sīlena nibbutiṃ yanti
> Through virtue they go to liberation—
> secure happiness, free from all suffering and stress.
>
> tasmā silaṃ visodhaye
> Thus we should all purify our virtue. > > *** > > Question: At what times should the five precepts, the eight precepts, and the ten guidelines be observed? > > Answer: The five precepts and ten guidelines should be observed at all times—without any reference to morning, evening, noon, or night—as constant or timeless principles (nicca-sīla, akālika-sīla). As for the eight uposatha precepts, a pattern has been established—in line with the varying abilities and opportunities of laypeople—of gathering to observe the precepts together once every seven or eight days on the lunar sabbath: the day of the new moon, the full moon, and the eighth day of the waxing and waning moons—altogether four times a month. This pattern is for people who don’t have much time or opportunity. If, however, you have plenty of time and opportunity, let your own conviction be your guide. Focus on goodness and not on the calendar, observing the precepts on your own, making whatever day you observe them—no matter what the date or season—your own personal uposatha day. > > Someone might object here, saying, “If it isn’t the lunar sabbath, then you can’t say you’re observing the uposatha precepts.” > > “If they’re not uposatha precepts, what are they?” > > “Just the ordinary eight precepts.” > > “Is it good or bad to observe the eight precepts?” > > “...Good.” > > “And we observe the precepts for the sake of the good, don’t we? So if we’ve hit the good right on the nose, what does it matter if we’ve hit the wrong day?” > > Here we should translate the word “uposatha.” Literally, it means “approaching respite” from all that is unskillful. So by definition, if there’s no respite from corruption in your actions, then it’s not uposatha day. There’s no way you can guarantee that this or that date is an uposatha day, because “uposatha” doesn’t mean the eighth day or ninth day or whatever. Still, the pattern of observing the eight precepts on the lunar sabbath is a good one for people who don’t have much opportunity. But if you do have the opportunity, you shouldn’t limit yourself just to those days, because virtue, by its nature, isn’t too particular about the date. > > This being the case, we should set up gradations so that those who feel inspired to practice can do so as they are able: > > 1. The first group observes the eight precepts on each lunar sabbath during the rainy season: three months, four days a month, thus twelve days. This is termed mudu, the weak level. > > 2. The intermediate level—majjhima uposatha—observes the eight precepts on each lunar sabbath, without fail, throughout the year: twelve months, four days a month, thus 48 days a year. > > 3. The highest level—ukkaṭṭha uposatha—observes the eight precepts on each lunar sabbath, and on the day before and the day after each sabbath, without reference to month or season: twelve months, twelve days a month, thus 144 days a year. This is for people of firm conviction. Or, if you want, you can aim higher than that and observe the eight precepts at all times and in every season, focusing on the quality of virtue itself instead of on the ordinances and conventions of the world—just like the Buddhist nuns who, in our day and times, observe these very same eight precepts. > > *** > > Virtue can be established on one of two bases: either through (1) making a vow (samādāna-virati), as when we repeat the precepts after a monk or novice (here it is also necessary to learn exactly what vices and misdeeds are forbidden by each of the five or eight precepts); or (2) simply deciding on our own to abstain from a particular vice or misdeed (sampatta-virati). In other words, when you want to keep the precepts pure, you can go ahead and decide to refrain from misconduct on your own. Once virtue is established, and you are careful to safeguard it out of a sense of conscience so that it doesn’t lapse, this is termed samuccheda-virati: absolute abstinence. > > For virtue to be maintained depends on two factors: perseverance and the four sublime attitudes (good will, compassion, empathetic joy, and equanimity). > > An example of keeping the precepts through perseverance would be: Suppose you’re accustomed to killing animals. If you decide to observe the precepts, you hold off for a day or so, but you have no strong compunctions against taking life, so you depend on a strong sense of perseverance to get you through. Once you get past your self-imposed time limit, you go back to your old ways. Observing the precepts through perseverance in this way means to exercise self-control so as not to commit whatever misdeeds you’ve been accustomed to. > > Question: Is there any merit or skillfulness in observing the precepts in this way? > > Answer: There is—as far as that particular day is concerned. Seeing the light every once in a long while is better than never seeing it at all. > > To observe the precepts through the sublime attitudes, though, means to wish for the happiness of other living beings, to sympathize with the fact that no one wants to suffer, that we all desire well-being and freedom from harm. Once you realize this and a sense of compassion arises, you wouldn’t dare transgress the precepts you’ve undertaken. Observing the precepts through good will in this way bears powerful rewards. > > Whoever puts virtue fully and completely into practice can aspire to any attainment: rebirth as a human being, rebirth in heaven, or nibbāna. Such a person can aspire to a beautiful appearance and voice, fragrant aromas, delicious tastes, delicate sensations, and a good heart. To have virtue is to have wealth: The five precepts are equal to 50 pounds of gold bullion; the eight precepts, 80 pounds; the ten guidelines, 100. Actually, moral virtue is something valuable beyond price. Virtue and generosity, taken together, are the qualifying factors for rebirth as a human being and rebirth in heaven. Virtue, generosity, and the development of the mind through meditation are the qualifying factors for nibbāna. So we should all try to find the time to perform those actions that will lead to our solid welfare in the coming future.”

^(Taken from Craft of the Heart, By Luang Por Lee, translated by Luang Por Ṭhānissaro)^( )^(-)^( )^(source,)^( )^(image )^(source.)

> “Asking the wrong questions show that you are still caught in doubting. Talking about practice is all right, if it helps contemplation. But it’s up to you yourself to see the Truth.” > Luang Por Chah

> “Rāhula, that is how mindfulness of breathing is developed and cultivated, so that it is of great fruit and great benefit. When mindfulness of breathing is developed and cultivated in this way, even the final in-breaths and out-breaths are known as they cease, not unknown.”

^(62 Mahārāhulovāda Sutta, The Middle Length Discourses of the Buddha © Translation by Bhikkhu Ñāṇamoli, edited and revised by Bhikkhu Bodhi {Third Edition, Wisdom Publications • Boston})

> "The next constituent of practice is moral restraint (sıla). Sıla watches over and nurtures the practice in the same way as parents look after their children. Maintaining moral restraint means not only to avoid harming others but also to help and encourage them. At the very least you should maintain the five precepts, which are: > > 1. Not only to kill or deliberately harm others, but to spread goodwill towards all beings. > > 2. To be honest, refraining from infringing on the rights of others, in other words, not stealing. > > 3. Knowing moderation in sexual relations: In the household life there exists the family structure, based around husband and wife. Know who your husband or wife is, know moderation, know the proper bounds of sexual activity. Some people don't know the limits. One husband or wife isn't enough, they have to have a second or third. The way I see it, you can't consume even one partner completely, so to have two or three is just plain indulgence. You must try to cleanse the mind and train it to know moderation. Knowing moderation is true purity, without it there are no limits to your behavior. When eating delicious food, don't dwell too much on how it tastes, think of your stomach and consider how much is appropriate to its needs. If you eat too much you get trouble, so you must know moderation. Moderation is the best way. Just one partner is enough, two or three is an indulgence and will only cause problems. > > 4. To be honest in speech - this is also a tool for eradicating defilements. You must be honest and straight, truthful and upright. > > 5. To refrain from taking intoxicants. You must know restraint and preferably give these things up altogether. People are already intoxicated enough with their families, relatives and friends, material possessions, wealth and all the rest of it. That's quite enough already without making things worse by taking intoxicants as well. These things just create darkness in the mind. Those who take large amounts should try to gradually cut down and eventually give it up altogether. Maybe I should ask your forgiveness, but my speaking in this way is out of a concern for your benefit, so that you can understand that which is good. You need to know what is what. What are the things that are oppressing you in your everyday lives? What are the actions which cause this oppression? Good actions bring good results and bad actions bring bad results. These are the causes. > > Once moral restraint is pure there will be a sense of honesty and kindness towards others. This will bring about contentment and freedom from worries and remorse. Remorse resulting from aggressive and hurtful behavior will not be there. This is a form of happiness. It is almost like a heavenly state. There is comfort, you eat and sleep in comfort with the happiness arising from moral restraint. This is the result; maintaining moral restraint is the cause. This is a principle of Dhamma practice - refraining from bad actions so that goodness can arise. If moral restraint is maintained in this way, evil will disappear and good will arise in its place. This is the result of right practice."

^Source

> Perceiving this body to be fragile as a pot and
> fortifying the mind as though it were a city,
> let a man attack Mara with the weapon of wisdom;
> he should guard what he has won,
> and be without attachment.

^(Dhammapada 40,)^( )^(Buddhadatta Thero)

Commentary Story

Our body is like a jar, very fragile. And our mind should be like a fortified city, guarded everywhere. The story for this verse says:

Five hundred monks from Sāvatthi received the meditation subjects and went far away to a large grove. The guardian spirits of the trees there saw that the monks came and decided that it would be impolite to stay in the trees. So they descended, thinking the monks will only stay one night. But they decided to spend the Rain retreat there. The spirits did not want to live on the ground so long, so they scared the monks by terrible sounds and ghostly images.

The monks ran away and told the Buddha what happened. He told them that they did not have any weapon, so they must be armed with loving kindness (Mettā). He then taught them the Mettā sutta. He further instructed them to recite the poem from the outskirts of the forest and enter the monastery still reciting. The monks did accordingly.

The spirits received their loving kindness, welcomed them and did them no harm. The monks meditated on the 32 parts of the body and realized its impermanence. The Buddha saw it from away, appeared in front of them, saying, yes, the body is like a jar. He also told them this verse (DhP 40). All five hundred monks became arahants.

^(^(from NTU))