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Namo Tassa Bhagavato
Arahato Sammā Sambuddhassa
Homage to the Blessed One, Accomplished and Fully
Enlightened.
One of the most
meaningful stanzas in the Dhammapada is verse 372:
Natthi jhānam
apaņņassa
Paņņā natthi ajhāyato
Yamhi jhānaņ ca paņņā ca
Sa ve Nibbānasantike
"There is no Jhāna
without wisdom,
There is no wisdom without Jhāna.
One who has Jhāna and wisdom,
He is in the vicinity of Nibbāna."
In the Vicinity of
Nibbāna
Right now, those of us
who are Buddhist monks and nuns, and those who are
serious lay practitioners, are in the vicinity of
Nibbāna. Being in this situation, we should recall
that we are practising in precisely the same way that
men and women, young and old, have been practising for
the last twenty-five centuries, and eventually we too
will achieve the same results. We are in the presence of
Nibbāna in the sense that we have taken up the
practice that is conducive to Nibbāna. Sometimes
it's hard to realize how close it can be. One doesn't
realize that all we have to do is turn our head, to make
just a slight change in our way of looking at things, to
open ourselves up to the same truth that the Buddha saw
-- the same truth that Venerables Sāriputta,
Mahāmoggallāna, Mahākassapa, Ānanda, Anuruddha, and
all the other great Arahants of the last twenty-five
centuries have seen. It was there then, it is here now.
We should recall this frequently. Recall that there have
been thousands, even tens of thousands of Arahants in
the past, and that there will be many hundreds,
thousands, even tens of thousands of Arahants in the
future. This path is still available, and when the path
is available, so are the fruits.
There is a book called
A Manual of a Mystic, an old treatise on
meditation found in an obscure monastery in Sri Lanka
many decades ago [1]. Part of the meditation practice
described in it is just the above recollection, the
recollection of all the Arahants who achieved the
sublime bliss of Nibbāna in the past. And now,
here you are, embarking on the same journey, doing the
same things, which must give rise to the same
fruits. This was the promise of the Buddha. He said that
this Dhamma leads one way and one way only: it leads to
Nibbāna. If you can get into the stream, it will
sweep you all the way down to the sea.
Such recollections, done
frequently, give rise to great joy, happiness, and
confidence; they give rise to faith in this practice
which we call Buddhism, the Dhamma. This faith in turn
gives rise to energy, so that we can have the will --
the sustained will -- to do what is necessary to
transform our initial glimmer of faith into sustained
realization.
You are in the presence
of Nibbāna every time you open up one of the
books of the Tipitaka and reads the teachings of the
Buddha. You are in the presence of Nibbāna
because there is just a thin veil between you and the
Dhamma. When the Buddha taught these teachings to monks
like Venerable Bāhiya (Udāna 1:10), just
the teachings alone were enough to give people of that
calibre great Insight, Insight which closed the gap
between them and Nibbāna. They were not just in
the presence of Nibbāna; they had made that one
step further into Nibbāna, into the full
realization of Nibbāna.
Venerable Bahiya and
others like him probably never imagined that they were
so close to such a marvellous and sublime event, yet
they became great disciples of the Buddha. Indeed, when
people look through the glasses of delusion, they often
think: "How could someone like me ever gain this sublime
bliss of Nibbāna? How could I ever attain a
Jhāna? How could one like me ever penetrate such a
deep and profound Dhamma?" But the Buddha said that
you can! You can because you already have the
confidence and faith to take up the brown robe of the
Lord Buddha or to practise his teachings earnestly as a
lay person.
Lending an Ear
An important aspect of
the path, in addition to virtue and good conduct, is the
study of the Buddha's teachings. The Buddha put it very
beautifully in his discourses: one lends an ear, bends
the ear, listens with interest, and applies the mind, so
that what one hears can enter deep within the mind and
settle there. As it settles, over the weeks, months, and
years, it will grow and bear fruit. One day this fruit
will be so sweet, the fruit of Enlightenment.
As one lends an ear to
the Dhamma, contemplating it, and allowing it to sweep
over the mind like a beautiful breeze on a warm day,
allowing it to soak in and to penetrate deep into the
mind, it penetrates deeper than thought, deeper than the
intellect, far deeper than the faultfinding mind, and
far far deeper than the familiar mind. The Dhamma
penetrates into that part of the mind that one has yet
to know -- waiting there, waiting until, through the
practice of meditation, one enters those very refined,
beautiful, and subtle states of mind where these seeds
of the Dhamma are resting, waiting to bear fruit,
waiting to give the bliss of Enlightenment.
One has faith and
confidence because one knows that others have realized
this in the past. Sometimes people think that the great
masters, the great monks and nuns of old, were somehow
supermen and superwomen. But many of them started off as
no different from most practitioners today. Sometimes
the most unlikely candidates became the greatest saints.
They took up the training to the best of their
abilities; they persevered in their attempts to get hold
of the mind and to calm it, to lead it to
one-pointedness, to stillness. Then one day, through the
accumulation of all their effort, the accumulation of
all their practice of virtue, the accumulation of
meditations -- sometimes nodding meditation and
sometimes scattered meditation -- through the
accumulation of their learning, and of their
reflections, and of their small insights, they
eventually succeeded in breaking through the barriers
that separated them from their goal.
One Drop at a Time
The Buddha compares the
practice of the Dhamma to a pot filling up one drop at a
time. There comes the moment when just one more drop
falls into the pot, and then the pot overflows: the
Dhamma is seen. One never knows when the time for that
last drop to fall has arrived. The ordinary,
unenlightened individual can never see this pot getting
filled because it's in a part of the mind to which he or
she as yet has no access -- but little by little it's
getting filled. One day it will become completely full,
and it will spill over into the mind as you know it now
and lead one into the source, into this innermost mind,
which is usually hidden by the defilements and the
hindrances. This is when one starts to see the source
which the Buddha called "the housebuilder," the creator
of birth and suffering.
So, whether one is a
monastic or one with lay precepts, one should never give
up the effort, never give up the training. This is a
theme that runs throughout the Buddha's teachings. If
one gives up the training in virtue, meditation, and
wisdom, one has no chance of success. But if one
continues with the training, if one continues following
the Buddha's instructions, one will find that this
training leads in only one way. It leads to Nibbāna.
This message is
beautifully encapsulated in some of the best advice I
ever got from a highly respected monk in Sri Lanka. It's
a piece of advice I always value and keep in mind. He
told me that at the end of each day, it doesn't matter
so much what stage one has attained, or what one has
achieved. What really matters is whether one has really
practised to the limit of one's ability that day --
whether one has really tried one's best -- or instead
has been slack and heedless, forgetting the Buddha's
teachings, and forgetting one's faith that these
teachings actually lead to Nibbāna. If at the end
of the day you look back and know that you have tried
your best, then you are accumulating spiritual
qualities, you are getting inwardly filled with these
precious drops of water, and drawing closer to the goal.
By continuing in this way, it will happen and must
happen, that Enlightenment will come as well. This
reflection is a means of developing faith in the
Buddha's teachings.
The Buddha not only
encouraged faith using the metaphoric "carrot" -- the
encouragement, incitement, and reassurance that this
path produces fruit; he also used the metaphoric
"stick." The stick is just reflecting and wisely seeing
the consequences of going the wrong way -- into the
realm of craving and desire, of disappointment and
frustration; into the realm of suffering; into the realm
of more births -- and uncertain births at that.
Uncertain births produce uncertain results, sometimes
with great suffering and torment. That is enough of a
stick because it gives a sense of wholesome fear
(ottappa), the fear of the consequences of not
continuing to make an effort, of not continuing to walk
this path, of not continuing to progress as far as your
ability allows. It doesn't matter where you are on the
path as long as you are stepping forward, as long as
every day another drop falls, filling up that great jar
inside yourself. If you are doing that, then you are in
the presence of Nibbāna, in the sense that you
are walking the path that gives rise to Nibbāna.
Virtue
The Buddha and the Noble
Ones always say that that path is the Noble Eightfold
Path - the path of virtue (sėla), concentration
(samādhi), and wisdom (paņņā). To walk the
path of virtue means that you will not harm any living
being. One dwells with a mind intent on the happiness of
all beings -- that softness of mind concerned with the
welfare of all beings wherever they may be, including
oneself. That virtue has to be perfected. It's not
enough to have 90% virtue, or 95% virtue, or even 99%
virtue. One's virtue must be fully purified, purified,
first of all, by faith.
The Buddha said that
virtue is the foundation of the path. Virtue is the
ground on which rest the higher aspects and factors of
the Noble Eightfold Path. If this part of the path is
weak, if one takes liberties with one's virtue and bends
the rules, then it's going to weaken concentration and
create impediments to the arising of wisdom. Thus out of
faith and trust in the Buddha's teachings, and in the
teachings of all the great monks and nuns one knows
about, one resolves in a place which is deeper than the
defilements, "I shall uphold these precepts as if they
were a golden casket full of jewels; I shall hold them
up to my head; I shall value them and protect them.
These are of the Buddha."
One famous meditation
teacher used to tell his monk disciples that they should
look after their alms bowls as if the bowls were the
Buddha's head. One should regard virtue as what's on
top of the Buddha's head, or even higher. One should
hold it in such reverence and value it so much that one
would not dare to deliberately go against any advice or
pronouncement coming from Lord Buddha. Eventually, as
one develops greater concentration and wisdom, one's
faith and confidence in the Buddha's teaching grow to
the extent that one would not transgress these precepts
even for the sake of life. It becomes almost impossible
to do so. The mind values them so highly because they
come from the Tathāgata, because they lead to
Nibbāna, and because, by empowering the mind to
achieve concentration, they open up the door for wisdom
to enter.
At first one just has
ordinary confidence and faith. But with each realization
and with each deep insight, one's confidence and faith
are transformed -- not into love or worship but into
something higher and deeper than that. They are
transformed into an enormous respect for that which is
the highest of all. As it is said in the Ratana-sutta:
"Na tena dhammena samatthi kiņci -- There is
nothing equal to this Dhamma" (Sutta-nipāta,
v.225). Once one realizes that the Dhamma is more
valuable than anything else in the whole world, one
would never transgress, damage, devalue, or demean
virtue.
As virtue becomes strong
in the practitioner, concentration happens by itself. It
happens simply because the mind becomes pure. To become
pure means to become free from defilements. It is
actions that defile the mind, actions of body and
speech, and also the thoughts which precede visible
actions. The practice of virtue means getting hold of
the mind which is being defiled by habitual patterns of
unskillful reactions, the reactions of a crazy person,
the reactions of a person who just cannot see. The mind
is covered up with "grease" and "dust" so it cannot
really see its own welfare. The practice of virtue is
the first shining and cleaning up of the mind, wiping
away the accumulated dust and grime of many lifetimes.
Those beings who walk in
virtue, who speak and act kindly and wisely, seem to
have nothing threatening or harmful about them. They
radiate a beauty, magnetic attraction, which comes from
the inner happiness they experience through their
unblemished virtue. Each practitioner of this path
should know that happiness, but it will only be known if
it is pointed out. If a virtuous person takes the time
to look.into his or her mind, to turn the apparatus of
perception inward, he or she will see that their virtue
is very pure, the virtue of the Buddha, and thus will
gain more faith and confidence in the Buddha's
teachings.
On this path towards
Enlightenment one passes through different stages, and
each of those stages brings its own happiness. These
happy feelings are little confirmations that this path
is leading in the right direction. They give
encouragement, and one can ask, "If this is the
happiness I have achieved so far, what is the happiness
that awaiting me at the next stage?" Be warned, however,
that the defilements make one turn away what is pure
towards what is impure. One should make a deliberate
effort to notice that pure, subtle, and refined
happiness born of an unblemished lifestyle, a life of
harmlessness.
Maybe you consider your
virtue to be as yet imperfect. But enough perfection is
there; enough days and hours are spent in such a pure
livelihood, pure speech, and pure action, that you
should notice the result is an unblemished inward
happiness. Turn to that; recognize it, and you will
affirm it. This will give you extra confidence in the
Buddha's teachings about the mind and about right
practice of body and speech.
Sense Restraint
As one develops virtue
and the restraint born of virtuous conduct, one realizes
that the way to achieve perfection in virtue is by
restraining the senses. One has to restrain oneself in
speaking, looking, and listening. Why listen to every
conversation around you ? "What did they say? What are
they doing?" It doesn't concern you. It's much more
beneficial to turn away from the conversations of the
world, to turn away from the activities of people. One
doesn't even look at what is happening outside; instead,
one looks and listens to the activities inside oneself.
This is what is called restraint. Instead of the senses
turning outside, they start to turn inside and "look" at
their own activity.
As the senses become
more restrained, one starts to experience one of the
first stages of the happiness born of peace, the
happiness born of restraint, the happiness born when the
mind is starting to experience calm. The senses are
being quietened down; for one is guarding them. What are
they being guarded from? They are being guarded from
involvement in the world, which tends to excite and
disturb our minds.
The Buddha said that if
one practises sense restraint one will experience a very
pleasurable, pure, and beautiful result -- a quiet,
peaceful, and settled happiness. Those who practise
seriously, and particularly those who live and practise
in quiet.places, should be able to realize this
delightful state of peace. One should reflect and notice
that happiness.
One is following the
Buddha's teachings by delighting in wholesome states of
mind. It is only unwise and unprofitable to delight in
unwholesome states, in the satisfactions of the world of
the five senses. That is where the Buddha said one will
find danger. But as for the peace and happiness born of
pure virtue and pure sense restraint, delight in it,
enjoy it, indulge in it, and celebrate it. Do it out of
faith in the Lord Buddha.
Mindfulness and Clear
Comprehension
In the gradual training
sense restraint first gives rise to mindfulness and
clear comprehension. Here the mind starts to feel its
first experience of being in control, of being at the
helm. Usually in our lives the senses are in control,
and we have no freedom. As soon as there's a delightful
object, straightaway the senses go to it. When an
attractive person of the opposite sex passes by, the
eyes go in that direction. As soon as a nice smell
drifts up from the kitchen, the nose goes to it. As soon
as there is an interesting conversation or pleasant
music, the ears go straight to it. The senses are in
control, not the mind, not wisdom.
However, when one
develops self-control by guarding the senses,
mindfulness find room to grow. The mind acquires the
power to know what is really going on, to direct
attention to what is skillful and useful, and to resist
getting lost in pointless entanglements and compulsive
activities. When sense restraint gives rise to this
mindfulness and clear comprehension, one starts to
develop the foundation for the marvellous states of
concentration where at last one sees the mind clearly
for what it truly is.
Concentration and
Insight: Whatever You Think It Is, It's Something Else
In the suttas, we
sometimes come across little phrases of great
significance. One such phrase is: "Whatever you imagine
it to be, it is always something else." [2] This is one
of the most profound descriptions of the Dhamma we can
find. Whatever one conceives it be, it is going to be
something else. It is as true for Jhāna and
Insight as it is for Nibbāna itself. After having
experienced one of these states, one realizes how
completely different the experience actually is from
what you thought, read, and expected it to be. The
conceptual mind cannot reach these refined aspects of
mind. All the concepts in the world are just built up
from the bricks of one's worldly experience. How could
such a crude and coarse apparatus as the conceptual mind
reach these states? This is good to remember; because it
takes away one's trust and confidence in the conceptual
mind. We tend to put far too much trust in our
ability.to conceive; so much so, that we waste our time
arguing about concepts, about who is right and who is
wrong, instead of actually embarking upon the practice
that will enable us to see and know the truth beyond
concepts.
Out of faith in the Lord
Buddha, one's job and duty is to use that conceptual
mind where it is appropriate, and drop it where it has
no place, where it does not reach, where it does not
belong. Where it does not belong is in the realm of
those states of mind that are beyond ordinary human
experience (uttarimanussadhamma): the Jhānas,
the states of Insight, and Nibbāna. Here the
conceptual mind has to be dropped. But first of all,
this has to be taken on faith -- faith in the teachings
of the Buddha and the Noble Disciples. What I mean by
faith is that one values the teachings of the Buddha so
much that one allows them to go inside the mind. One day
when one is close to concentration or Insight, those
teachings will bear fruit, and one will give up the
conceptual mind. That which creates conceptual
entanglement is called diversification (papaņca),
a coarser form of craving . Having given up papaņca,
the mind becomes still and peaceful; one gets beyond the
veil, behind the cause of the problem. One could say
that the language of the self, the ego, is these
thoughts and concepts, and the only way one can see this
ego is to first make it shut up.
So one doubts this
conceptual mind and instead one develops the mind of
faith in the Buddha's teaching, which says that this
path can lead in one way only. The conceptual mind might
say, "I can't do it, it's too hard for me." But that is
just the talk of the ego getting scared, the talk of
Māra, [3] who is on the defensive, rattled by our
progress on the path to Nibbāna. Instead of
believing in the conceptual mind, the mind of Māra, one
trusts the word of the Buddha and the advice of the
Noble Disciples. One puts aside those conceptual doubts,
lets them go, and pushes them away. One goes beyond
them, and finds that the Buddha was wise and
enlightened: he did teach the Dhamma, and that Dhamma
works. This is especially clear when the mind becomes
peaceful.
Push out the conceptual
mind and arouse the mind of faith. Let go. Let go of the
ordering, the assessing of the situation, and the
thinking of what to do next. Let the Dhamma take over;
let the natural course of the practice take over. If you
have been practising virtue, sense restraint, and
mindfulness, you have the basis for concentration; so
let go and let concentration happen. Allow the mind just
to concentrate, to revert to what we might call its
natural state -- the seeking of satisfaction and comfort
within itself rather than outside.
The mind then becomes
self-sufficient, self-comforting, and self-sustaining,
so that the door from the mind to the five external
senses is cut off, and the mind does not go out to the
five senses. Instead it remains immersed in itself, in
radiant joy. One experiences this, delights in it, and
it is wise and good to delight in it. One has faith in
the Buddha, who said that this delight has no underlying
tendencies to craving and lust.
The Beginnings of
Craving
Just as one leaves these
states of concentration, one can experience the
beginnings of craving, the beginnings of the mind going
out to seek satisfaction. As an arm reaches out for a
cup of tea (or whatever it thinks to be joy), one sees
how stupid that craving is. Craving has its measure of
delight: the anticipation, the joy of activity, the
doing, making, becoming, and controlling. But this is
delusive joy. One sees craving going out and also sees
its results.
When one is developing
Insight based on these powerful states of concentration,
something like craving, instead of appearing as an idea
or concept, appears like an animal or a being emerging
from the mind and going out. One sees this very clearly;
also one can very clearly understand the dangers. The
coarse mind can see only what is coarse and superficial.
The subtle mind, however, can see the subtle. One
understands the very source and essence of craving: why
it works, why the mind delights in it, and the
consequences of that delighting. Then the mind can
develop repulsion towards craving itself, repulsion to
these "animals" who emerge from the mind and go out
promising happiness and joy, but afterwards come back to
bite and torment the mind. Craving is unfaithful to its
promise; it promises delight, happiness, satisfaction,
and contentment, but in the end brings only torment and
disappointment. The refined mind can see this.
The refined mind can see
where this craving first originates. It first originates
in the delusion of "I" and in the delusion of "mine." It
is the delusion of a "self" (attā) which needs
joy and satisfaction in the first place. This sense of
self, this sense of "I," is the source of craving, and
it's not going to be uncovered easily as it lies very
deep within. One needs the powerful, refined, and subtle
mind even to be able to come close to the source and
meaning of self, or rather that which we take to be
self. This is a very hard thing to see, but with
faith and confidence in the Buddha's teachings, and by
following them, one comes closer and closer.
Once one sees the self,
or rather what we take to be the self, then one can
truly say that one is in the presence of Nibbāna.
One sees the self as just a mirage, something that has
deceived the mind for so many lifetimes. One "sees" this
not as a concept, but as a very refined state that is
very hard to describe to others. Language doesn't reach
to these places. Once that self is seen, the delusion is
destroyed and the very ground from which craving
originates is pulled away. Craving is then like a bird
with no place to rest anymore. It can still go on flying
in the sky, but it can't.come back to rest on any branch
or ground. Eventually it will get tired, and then it
will die. Once the mind sees these things -- the Dhamma,
the origination of all things, where they lead to, the
nature of the mind and the nature of delusion -- faith
is transformed into wisdom. It is transformed into
the experience of the Dhamma, into Enlightening
and powerful wisdom.
Many may wonder how
anyone can gain such refined wisdom. But those who have
faith in the Buddha know that there is a path, there is
a way, by which human beings can gain this wisdom. That
way is the Noble Eightfold Path. From the very beginning
to the end it's not that long; it doesn't take that much
time. One just needs the patience and the energy born of
confidence. If that energy comes from a sense of "self,"
it's not going to be very productive. If the energy one
arouses for one's practice comes from a sense of "me"
and "mine," for instance, because we're ashamed of what
we have done so far and want to do better, it won't be
anywhere near as effective as it would be if it comes
from faith in the Buddha's teachings. If it's energy
born of faith, it is not energy coming from the "self,"
it is energy coming from the Buddha. If it's faith in
the Dhamma, or if it's faith in the Noble (Ariya)
Sangha, it is energy born of the Dhamma, energy born of
the Sangha -- the Ariya Sangha. If one hears a
great discourse from one of the Noble Ones, it gives
rise to faith, and that faith gives rise to energy. It
is born from the Ariyas, from the Noble Ones. It is that
energy, powerful and penetrative, which can arouse one
to make one's virtue spotless, which can perfect one's
sense restraint, sharpen one's mindfulness, and bring
the mind to concentration.
"Whether you like it or
not, it happens": Whether you think that Jhāna is
the path to Nibbāna or not, you get into Jhāna.
It's a natural part of the Noble Eightfold Path, and it
happens by itself. Planning it or not planning it is
just getting in the way and putting off its happening.
The experience of Jhāna comes naturally to a mind
in which the hindrances have been suppressed; in which
faith has been developed; in which purity of virtue has
been developed; in which sense restraint has been
developed; in which mindfulness has been developed.
Whether one likes it or not, whether one decides for it
or not, the happiness ushered in by all these
preparatory practices will naturally give rise to the
beautiful Jhānas.
The Bliss of
Enlightenment
The Buddha called the
Jhānas "the bliss of Enlightenment." [4] They are
not the true release of Enlightenment, but close enough
in their affective qualities to give one a taste of
freedom. These are also called freedoms of the mind
(cetovimutti). They are the first real experiences
of freedom for the meditator. One is getting a taste of
what Nibbāna truly is. The mind has calmed down,
the defilements are gone.-- though only temporarily --
and one experiences a mind without defilements, which is
just "inside of itself." One experiences contentment, a
place where craving doesn't reach, a place where Māra is
blindfolded.
The experience of these
beautiful states that the Buddha described gives an
indication of what Nibbāna is like. Then one
doesn't need to worry about faith anymore. The
experience is there and, once there, the faith in the
Buddha, Dhamma, and Sangha are "gone to greatness"
(mahaggata). If the meditator has that last bit of
confidence to turn the attention where the Buddha said
to turn it at such a time, he or she starts to uncover
the mirage of self, that which one has always taken to
be "me" or "mine." If one looks behind the screen at the
source of the film, the light and the projector itself,
then one begins to see the Dhamma. As said earlier, one
then starts to notice where the defilements originate
from. The source of the hindrances, the mirage of self,
is uncovered. It is this delusion (avijjā) that
is the root cause of suffering.
Entering the Stream
If one uproots the
mirage of self, and sees clearly with a mind beyond
concepts, with a mind freed through the practice of the
Eightfold Path, then there will come with certainty the
knowledge that one has entered the stream and is a
Stream-winner, bound for Enlightenment. There is no way
that this can be turned back, and that's why they say
that at this stage faith in the Buddha, Dhamma, and
Sangha becomes unshakable. It becomes so powerful, tall,
and great that there is no way in the world one might
ever turn back.
Having realized the
Dhamma, one can delight in it, delight in the
achievement and in the uniqueness of the Buddha. With
this realization, one really knows what the Buddha is.
As the Buddha said, "One who sees the Dhamma, sees me.
One who sees me, sees the Dhamma" [5]. That is a
profound saying, and one needs to have actually seen the
Dhamma to understand its meaning. In other words, if one
has truly seen the Dhamma, then one will value the
Buddha, Dhamma, and Noble Sangha above all else.
Confidence and faith in the Buddha reaches its peak and
becomes an enormous source of joy and happiness -- the
bliss of pure confidence. Faith (saddhā) is the
source not only of energy but of happiness and delight
(sukha) too. And again, it's a delight and
happiness from which there is nothing to be blamed or
feared. It's a pool from which one can drink, where
there is no pollution and nothing to cause injury or
illness. Thus faith is a powerful tool. It will
take one from the beginning to the end of this realm of
samsāra and eventually set one free.
Exhortation.
As mentioned before,
right in the beginning your faith may be weak and
challenged by the defilements, but just notice, as you
follow the Eightfold Path, how each stage gives rise to
greater degrees of happiness. These experiences of
happiness are real and are there to be turned to at any
time if you will only notice them. They are like
invisible companions that one takes for granted and
often just doesn't notice. They will give increased
faith that this practice works, and as that faith builds
up, it will propel you along the path.
You are in the presence
of Nibbāna because you are practising the Noble
Eightfold Path. Confidence in this truth might just
enable the mind to accept that Nibbāna is only
hidden behind the thinnest of veils. You might just get
the incentive to go beyond and achieve Jhāna,
achieve Insight, and become one of the Noble Ones. Then
you will realize that it wasn't all that much, not all
that difficult. Just go one step further into the mind
and one step further behind the defenses of the delusion
of self.
Notes
[1]. Trans. by F.L.
Woodward, ed. by Mrs. C.A.F. Rhys Davids (London: Pali
Text Society, 1982).
[2]. Yena yena his
maņņanti tato tam hoti aņņathā. See, e.g.,
Majjhima Nikāya No. 113 (III 42 foll.).
[3]. "Mara ... is the
Buddhist 'Tempter' figure. .... He appears in the texts
both as a real person (i.e., as a deity) and as the
personification of evil and passions, of the totality of
worldly existence and of death." Venerable Nyanatiloka,
Buddhist Dictionary (4th rev. ed.), (Kandy, Sri
Lanka, Buddhist Publication Society, 1980), p.116.
[4]. Sambodhisukha.
See, e.g., the Latukikopama Sutta, Majjhima Nikaya No.
66 (I 454).
[5]. Samyutta Nikāya,
22:87 (III 120).
-ooOoo-
About the Author
Ajahn Brahmavamso is a
British-born Buddhist monk, ordained in Thailand and
trained under the famous Thai meditation master, Ajahn
Chah. He is presently the abbot of Bodhinyana Buddhist
Monastery in Western Australia.
Bodhi Leaves No. 149,
Buddhist Publication Society, Sri Lanka
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