Namo Tassa Bhagavato Arahato Samma
Sambuddhassa
Sabbe Sankhara Anicca - Sabbe Sankhara
Dukkha - Sabbe Dhamma Anatta Ti
"All conditioned things
are impermanent. All conditioned things are suffering.
All dhammas (all things conditioned and unconditioned)
are anatta". These are the three basic factors of all
existence. It is in order to penetrate these truths that
we practice the Noble Eightfold Path. We equip our minds
with power through the abandoning of the five hindrances[2];
then we can actually uncover these truths by
experiencing the deep states of meditation. In fact,
once one of these three basic characteristics of
existence (ti-lakkhana) is seen in its fullness one will
also see the other two in their fullness. As the Buddha
said, "What is impermanent, subject to change, is
suffering, and that by its very nature cannot be taken
to be 'me', 'mine', or a 'self'. Whatever is taken to be
a self will cause suffering" (SN 22, 59)[3].
In fact, the permanent happiness of a self is
impossible.
The Buddha's teaching on
anatta (non-self) is deep and profound because it
challenges something very basic to our assumptions about
life. The Buddha talked about avijja (delusion) being
the root cause of all problems, of all rebirths, the
root cause of defilements. He explained what avijja is
through the teaching of the vipallasas (the perversions
or distortions of view, thought and perception). Namely,
the vipallasas say that by view, thought and perception
we take what is dukkha to be sukha (happiness); we take
what is impermanent to be permanent; we take what is not
beautiful (asubha) to be beautiful (subha); and we take
what is anatta to be atta, a self (AN 4, 49). Never in
that teaching of the vipallasas did the Buddha say that
we take what is self to be anatta. It's always something
that is anatta that is taken to be a self. This is
because throughout the Buddha's teachings there never
was, in any way whatsoever, an atta (self) postulated.
Therefore, this Dhamma
discourse will explain how the practice of deep
meditation, combined with careful investigation uncovers
the truth of anatta, so that the illusion of a 'self'
can be removed.
"There is Nothing"
Towards the end of his
teaching life, Ajahn Chah would visit the Western monks
at Wat Pa Nanachat once a week to take a sauna for his
health. He would also give a Dhamma talk before his
sauna, to offer us some wisdom, encouragement and
inspiration. On one of these occasions I remember that
after the Dhamma talk, I thought for once, instead of
going right away to help care for Tan Ajahn, I would sit
meditation and use some of the inspiration from his talk
to aid my meditation. So I went around to the back of
the Dhamma hall at Wat Pa Nanachat, where no one was and
I sat meditation. I don't know whether it was for half
an hour or one hour. I had a very nice meditation, a
very deep meditation. When I came out afterwards I had a
lot of happiness and clarity in my mind.
Of course, the first
thing that came to my mind after that meditation was to
see if I could assist my teacher, Ajahn Chah. So I got
up and started walking towards the sauna. Half way
between the Dhamma hall and the sauna, I met Ajahn Chah
coming in the opposite direction with two or three Thai
laymen. He had completed his sauna and he was on his way
back to Wat Pa Pong. When he saw me, he obviously
perceived that I'd had a very deep meditation and that
my mind was clear, so it was one of those occasions when
he tried, out of compassion, to enlighten me. He looked
me in the eye, as Ajahn Chah could do, and said, "Brahmavamso,
tam mai?" which means, "Brahmavamso, why?" I said, "I
don't know". He laughed and said, "If anyone ever asks
you that question again the right answer is, 'Mai me
arai' (there is nothing)". He asked me if I understood,
and I said, "Yes", and he said, "No you don't".
I'll always remember his
reply. As he walked off it was like a profound teaching
that he had just shared with me. What he was actually
saying here by his teaching, 'Mai me arai' was, there is
nothing, just emptiness, anatta. This is a powerful
teaching because in our world we always want to have
something. We always want to grab on to something, and
to say "there is something". But actually, there is
nothing.
Whether one looks at the
body (rupa), feelings (vedana), perceptions (sanna), the
mental formations (sankhara, which includes the will),
or consciousness (vinnana)[4],
for each one of these - 'Mai me arai' - there is nothing
there. This is the teaching of anatta. However, it is
very difficult for people to accept such a teaching;
that there is nothing. The reason that it is difficult
to accept is because one almost always asks the wrong
questions. It's well known that if you ask the wrong
questions then you will get the wrong answers. So it's
important to ask the right questions first of all.
Looking through the suttas, (the collected discourses of
the Buddha) one can find many instances of those
questions being asked of the Buddha that did not lead to
any purpose or have any use. These were thoughts or
questions or inquiries that the Buddha said were wrongly
formed, and most importantly, they were not conducive to
Enlightenment.
What do You Take Your
Self to be?
One of those wrongly
formed questions is "Who am I?" This is an inquiry that
many people in the world follow: "Who am I?" However, a
little bit of reflection should make it very clear that
this question already implies an assumption that you are
someone. It already implies an answer. It's not open
enough. Instead, one needs to rephrase the question
from, "Who am I?" or even, "What am I?" to, "What do I
take myself to be?" or, "What do I assume this thing
called 'I' is?" Such questions dig very deep into one's
avijja (delusion). Only then can one start to really
look at what it is that one takes one's 'self' to be.
Consider the human body.
Do you consider the body to be yours? It's very easy to
say, "The body is not self" when one is young, healthy
and fit. The test comes when one is sick, especially
when that sickness is very deep and lasting, or can even
be life threatening. That's when one can really see at a
deeper level whether one is taking the body to be 'me'
or 'mine'. Why does this fear arise? The fear is always
because of attachment. One is afraid that something
which one cherishes is being threatened or taken away.
If ever a fear of death comes up at any time, that will
show with ninety nine percent certainty, that in that
moment one is seeing or thinking that this body is 'me',
or is 'mine'.
Contemplate this body.
Contemplate the death of this body, contemplate the
contents of this body, and take it apart as it says in
the Satipatthana Suttas (MN 10, DN 22). See that with
whatever parts of this body, that it's just flesh and
blood and bones. It's just the four great elements
(earth, water, heat and air), just atoms and molecules
and chemicals, that's all. Continually contemplating the
body in this way, one will eventually break down the
delusion that this body is substantial, beautiful,
delightful and one's 'own'.
4 The Illusion of
Control
When there is a self,
there will be things that belong to a self. When there
are things belonging to a self there will be control,
there will be work, there will be doing. This illusion
of a self (taking oneself to be something substantial)
is what creates craving and attachment. This is what
creates will. That's why when people take the body to be
the self, then they go and take it to the gym, they take
it to the beauty parlour, they take it to the hair
dressers, they wash it, they preen it, they try hard to
make it look nice. "This is important, this is me. It's
my selfimage." Such people think that it's very
important what they look like. They think that it
creates their happiness. Other (wiser) people say how
stupid they are. Other people tell the truth. The point
is that if you take the body to be you, you will want to
control it. Some people get upset when they start to get
old and ugly and smelly. They start to get upset when
they get sick, because they realise they can't control
this body.
Some people who I've
seen dying try and control their body to the very end.
To be with someone when they are dying, and to see them
struggling for the last breath, and trying to control
everything, this is one of the saddest things to see in
life. This is real suffering. Then you see those other
people, who have more wisdom, those who can let go and
not struggle at death. Realising that this body is not
theirs any more, they don't care about it any more, and
they don't try to control it. The 'controller' has gone.
When this controlling has gone, then so much peace, ease
and freedom naturally arises in the mind.
Achievements are Not
Yours
Even deeper than the
body is the stuff of the mind. First of all, let us
consider the objects of the mind. So often people
identify themselves with their thoughts, or with the
perceptions or objects, which come up in their minds.
For example, it's so easy to actually take one's
achievements to be 'me', or to be 'mine'. If one takes
any achievements to be 'me', or to be 'mine', the
inevitable result of that is pride, and the attachment
to praise. How much suffering results from pride? Every
time one does something wrong, one will feel that there
is some problem there. Very often because of pride, when
one does something wrong, one may even break the
precepts[5]
and lie, just out of taking one's abilities to be 'me',
or to be 'mine'. That's why in the world when someone
makes a mistake they usually say, "I wasn't feeling my
self today". "When I do something right, that's the real
me."
People often say that
speaking in public is one of the most terrifying things
that one can do. This kind of fear is always because of
some attachment. One then needs to ask the question:
"Fear of what?" "Fear of losing what?" It's always fear
of losing what is called 'reputation'. That is to say,
the delusions about what one takes oneself to be. All of
these things are just conditioned. If I give good talks,
it's just because I've had a lot of practice that's all.
If I give bad talks, that has nothing to do with me
either. Maybe it is because the tea isn't strong enough.
It has nothing to do with me. Isn't that marvellous, to
take away the sense of self from whatever one does? Then
there's no sense of guilt, no sense of fear, of remorse.
One doesn't go back afterwards and say, "What I did
today was really rotten and horrible". It's just
conditioning, that's all.
If one takes any success
in meditation to be because of one's own abilities, then
one misunderstands the law of causality, the law of
cause and effect. For example, any skill in meditation
that I have is nothing to do with me, it's just because
of causes. It's not one's abilities or inabilities that
stop success in meditation. Never think, "I can" or "I
can't", that is just coming from a sense of self. Create
the causes. Once the causes are there, then one will be
able to experience jhanas[6]
, one will be able to get Enlightened. When one gets to
be skilled in creating the causes for deep meditation,
creating the causes for insight, and creating the causes
for liberation, then one will understand what bhavana
(development of the mind) really means.
Thoughts are Not Yours
When thoughts come up in
the mind it's both useful and fascinating for one to
consider, "Why did I think that? Where did that thought
come from?" Very often one can trace these thought
patterns back to teachers who inspired you, either in
words or in books. Why did you think that thought? Is it
really your thought, or is it the thought of Ajahn Brahm,
or maybe the thought of your father, or the thought of
your mother? Where did that thought come from? Thought
does not belong to you. Thoughts come according to their
conditions, they are triggered in the mind because of
causes. It's fascinating to see that thought is anatta,
not 'me', and not 'mine'.
Why is it that thoughts
obsess the mind? Thoughts come in and we grab hold of
them. We make them stay because of the illusion that
they are important. People sometimes have such nice
thoughts, they come and tell me later, and they call
them 'insights'. They are just thought, that's all. Just
leave the thoughts alone. Don't take them to be 'mine'.
If one takes thoughts to be 'mine', then one will go and
beat someone else over the head with them, and argue
about who's right and who's wrong. Letting them go is
far more peaceful, far more joyful. Thinking is one of
the biggest hindrances to deep meditation. Thinking so
often stops one from seeing the truth, from seeing the
true nature of things.
Therefore, give thinking
no value. Give it no interest. Instead, give that value
and interest much more to the silence. For those of you
who have experienced long periods in meditation, where
not a thought has been going on in your mind, isn't that
nice, isn't that beautiful, isn't that just so lovely,
when there is peace in the mind and not a thought coming
up? Remember that, cherish that thought of no thought.
Then it's a thought that ends thought. All truth, all
insight, all wisdom, arises in the silence.
The 'Doer' is Not Self
If one thinks "I am in
charge", if that delusion is still there, that will be a
major hindrance to one's meditation. This will create
restlessness, and there will be craving for this, that
and the other. One will never be able to get into
jhanas. However, one must understand that the 'doer'
cannot let go of doing. This is like trying to eat your
own head. That's what people often try and do. They try
to do the non-doing. That's just more doing! It has to
be like a change, a flip in the mind. It takes some
wisdom to see that this 'doing' is just a conditioned
process. Then one can let go. When one lets go, then
this whole process just goes so beautifully, so
smoothly, so effortlessly. With luck one might get into
a jhana. In the jhana states the 'doing' has gone and it
has stopped for a long time. Coming out again afterwards
one will naturally think, "This is good, this is
beautiful, this is wonderful". Then one will start to
see this illusion of the 'doer'.
To do is to suffer.
Doing is dukkha, dukkha is doing. When there is doing,
it's like a wave on the lake. The stillness is lost.
When the stillness is lost, like the rippled surface of
a lake it distorts the image of the moon high in the
sky. When the lake is perfectly still and nothing is
happening, when no one is doing anything to disturb the
moment, then the reflection is pure, truthful, real, and
it's also very beautiful. The jhanas should give one
enough data to see once and for all that this thing,
that which we call 'the doer', is just a completely
conditioned phenomenon. That insight has profound
effects afterwards. Sometimes people ask the question,
"If the will is not yourself, if it's nothing to do with
you, why bother? Why even bother to get up at four
o'clock in the morning and meditate?" The answer is,
"Because you've got no choice".
'The Knower' is Not Self
Even deeper than 'the
doer' is 'the knower'. The two actually go together. One
can stop 'the doer' for a little while in the jhanas,
but later it comes back again. One even can stop 'the
doer' for aeons by going to the jhana realms after one
dies. However, it will still come back again. Once there
is a 'knower' it will react to what it knows, and it
will create 'doing'.
'The knower' is usually
called consciousness or citta (mind), which is what
knows. That knowing is often seen to be the ultimate
'self'. Very often people can get the perception, or the
paradigm, in their minds of perceiving something in
here, which can just know and not be touched by what it
knows. It just knows heat and cold, pleasure and pain.
It just knows beauty and ugliness. However, at the same
time (somehow or other), it can just stand back and not
be known, and not be touched by what's actually
happening. It is important to understand that the nature
of consciousness is so fast, so quick, that it gives the
illusion of continuity. Owing to this illusion, one
misses the point that whatever one sees with your eyes,
or feels with the body, the mind then takes that up as
it's own object, and it knows that it saw. It knows that
it felt. It's that knowing that it saw, knowing that it
felt, that gives the illusion of objectivity. It can
even know that it knew.
When philosophy books
talk about 'self reflection' or 'self knowledge', the
fact that not only do "I know", but that "I know that I
know", or that "I know that I know that I know", is
given as a proof of the existence of a self. I have
looked into that experience, in order to see what
actually was going on with this 'knowing' business.
Using the depth of my meditation, with the precision
that that gave to mindfulness, to awareness, I could see
the way this mind was actually working. What one
actually sees is this procession of events, that which
we call 'knowing'. It's like a procession, just one
thing arising after the other in time. When I saw
something, then a fraction of a moment afterwards I knew
that I saw, and then a fraction of a moment afterwards I
knew that I knew that I saw. There is no such thing as,
"I know that I know that I know". The truth of the
matter is, "I know that I knew that I knew". When one
adds the perspective of time, one can see the causal
sequence of moments of consciousness. Not seeing that
causal sequence can very easily give rise to the
illusion of a continuous 'knower'. This illusion of a
continuous 'knower' is most often where people assume
that their 'self' resides.
However, as it says in
the suttas, one can see that even knowing is conditioned
(sankhata) (MN 64). One can see that this too rises
because of causes, and then ceases when the causes
cease. This is actually where one starts to see through
the illusion of objectivity. It is impossible to
separate the 'knower' from the known. As the Buddha said
many times, "In all of the six senses, such as the mind
base, when mind base and mind objects come together it
turns on mind consciousness. The coming together of the
three is called phassa (contact)" (eg. MN, 28).
Consciousness is conditioned, it has its causes, and
it's not always going to be there. During the experience
of jhana one is totally separated from the world of the
five senses. All five senses have disappeared. All
that's left is mind, mind base, mind experience. One
then knows clearly what mind (citta) is.
Understanding the Nature
of Consciousness
Once one knows what mind
consciousness is (mind activity, the mind sense), then
one can actually notice outside of the jhanas, in
ordinary worldly consciousness, that whatever one sees
is followed immediately by a different type of
consciousness. Different types of consciousness are
arising and passing away, one after the other. Maybe
it's another sight consciousness, and then mind
consciousness, or maybe taste consciousness, and then
mind consciousness. This mind consciousness follows
immediately, so close behind the other five types of
sense consciousness, that it gives the five senses an
illusion of similarity. When one sees something, when
one hears something or feels something with the body,
what is in common with those experiences? What gives it
the illusion of sameness? After experiencing jhana one
will know that there is this mind consciousness always
following behind; holding the hand, so to speak, of the
other five senses. Once one sees that, then one can
understand why there's an illusion of continuity in the
experience of consciousness.
'Knowing' is like the
particles of sand on a beach. From a distance it looks
like there is no gap, no space, between those grains of
sand. Then one goes closer and closer and closer and
sees that there are just grains of sand, and in between
those grains there is nothing. Nothing runs through
those grains of sand. Like water in a stream. It looks
like there is a continuous flow. However, once one gets
closer with a microscope, an electron microscope, one
can see that between the water molecules there is
nothing, just space. One can then see the granular
nature of consciousness. One consciousness arises and
then another disappears. As it says in the Satipatthana
Samyutta, "cittas arise and pass away" (SN 47, 42).
A person who still
thinks they are the citta (mind), 'the knower', might be
able to let go of the body, and get reborn into the
jhana realms. But they would have to be reborn into this
world again. They are again subject to more rebirths,
more suffering. This is because they haven't fully let
go of bhava (being). This person has not yet eradicated
bhava-tanha (the craving to be), which results from
taking the 'knower' to be self. It's like the simile of
the tadpole. The tadpole is hatched in the pond, always
in the water, and therefore it can't understand what dry
land is. However, when the tadpole grows up to be a frog
and leaves that water for the first time it carries the
water on it's back. It's wet and slimy, but at least it
knows what dry land is and it gets an idea for the first
time what dryness is.
Getting Out of the Pond,
and Onto Dry Land
The only way that one
can understand what is meant by, "the self is not 'the
doer'" is to get into a jhana. This means that one is
getting out of the pond of doing. The only way that one
can really understand that 'the knower' is not self, is
to get out of the pond of the five senses, and to stay
just with the sixth sense. With just the mind
consciousness remaining, then after a while, whether one
likes it or not, whether one thinks it's true or not,
one will actually see that that which is called
'knowing' just arises and passes away. It is granular,
it is fragmentary.
The whole purpose of
these jhanas is to learn through practice, bit by bit,
to let go of more and more consciousness. It's like
slicing away at mind consciousness. Allowing
consciousness to cease, by calming it, settling it, and
allowing it to go to cessation. Then the consciousness
completely ceases for long periods of time in what's
called nirodha-samapatti (the attainment of cessation).
This is the cessation of all that is felt and all that's
perceived asanna-vedayita-nirodha). Any person who
experiences this attainment, they say, will be an
arahant or an anagami afterwards. Why? Because they've
seen the end of consciousness, they've touched that as
an experience.
With this experience
there is no longer any thought or theories or ideas.
This is bare experience. All that one formerly took to
be 'me' is seen as just delusion (avijja). What was
anatta? One will realize that for many lifetimes, one
had taken all these things to be a self, and that the
result was so much birth and consequent suffering. The
cause was so much controlling and doing and craving
(tanha). Wriggling through Samsara, wriggling towards
happiness, wriggling away from pain, always trying to
control the world. It's not what one would like to see.
However, through the experience of the jhanas, and the
surmounting of conditioning, one has gone beyond all of
that. It is not what one has been taught. It is what one
has seen, it is what one has actually experienced. This
is the brilliance of the Buddha's teaching of anatta. It
goes right to the heart of everything.
They say that the Dhamma
is the source. One is not going outwards to its
consequences, one is not getting lost in papanca (mental
proliferation). One is going right in to the very
middle, the very essence, and the very heart of the atta,
what one takes to be 'me'. From the body into the mind,
from the mind into 'the doer', from 'the doer' into 'the
knower', one can then see that one is not 'the knower'.
It's just causes and conditions. That's all it is, just
a process. Then one will understand why the Buddha said
that he doesn't teach annihilation. Annihilation means
that there is some thing there that existed, which is
now destroyed. Nor did he teach eternalism (that there
is some thing there that is never destroyed). He taught
the Middle Way, namely Dependent Origination.
The process that one has
taken to be a self for all these lifetimes is just an
empty process. Cause effect, cause effect, cause effect
- just a process. "When there is this, this comes into
being. With the cessation of that, that ceases." That is
the heart of the Buddha's teaching. Everything is
subject to that law. If one can see everything as being
subject to that law, then one has seen fully into the
nature of anatta. Samsara has been mortally wounded; and
one will soon make an end of all birth, old age, death
and suffering. If, however, there is just a tiny bit
left, which one hasn't seen, just a tiny bit - that can
keep one stuck in Samsara for aeons.
Sabbe-dhamma-anatta'ti. The whole bloody lot!
[1]
Dhamma discourse given by Ajahn Brahmavamso at
Bodhinyana Monastery on 19th September 2001, during the
annual three-month Rains Retreat. [back]
[2]
The five hindrances are: sensual desire, ill will,
sloth-and-torpor, restlessness-and-remorse, and doubt.
In the suttas these are said to be the 'nutriment' for
ignorance (AN 10, 61). [back]
[3]
References to suttas: AN = Anguttara Nikaya, MN =
Majjhima Nikaya, DN = Digha Nikaya, SN = Samyutta Nikaya
(references to book number, then sutta number). [back]
[4]
These are the five khandhas, or 'groups of existence',
which the Buddha taught compose the entirety of sentient
human existence. [back]
[5]
In Buddhism there are 5 core precepts, (moral codes) for
wholesome bodily and verbal conduct, which are
undertaken; to abstain from: killing, stealing, sexual
misconduct (ie. adultery), false speech, and intoxicants
like alcohol, which give rise to heedlessness. For
monastics the main additional precepts are: celibacy and
not handling money. [back]
[6]
Jhanas - deep states of meditative 'absorption', where
the mind becomes united with one object for long periods
of time. In these states the five hindrances have been
abandoned. The mind dwells within itself and in these
states of refined bliss there is no impingement at all
from the five external senses. [back]
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