Contents
This anthology, drawn
from the teachings of Phra Ajaan Lee Dhammadharo,
provides an introduction to the basic outlines of his
thought and the method of meditation he taught.
The first excerpt, from
The Craft of the Heart, was written shortly
after he had received training from Phra Ajaan Mun
Bhuridatto. In it, Ajaan Lee shows how he regarded the
state of meditation practice in Thailand at the time,
and gives some ideas of why he himself had chosen the
path of becoming a meditating monk.
The passage from
Keeping the Breath in Mind details the method of
meditation he developed and taught in the later years of
his life. The passage from
The Path to Peace and Freedom for the Mind
elaborates on a theme he had learned from Ajaan Mun:
that there are no sharp boundaries among the practice of
virtue, concentration, and discernment, and that all
three of these aspects of the path are mutually
reinforcing.
The three excerpts from
Dhamma talks make a similar point: that there is no
sharp division between the practice of tranquillity
meditation and insight meditation. They also emphasize
the role played by experimenting and using one's powers
of observation in developing meditation as a skill.
The excerpts from
Frames of Reference and
Basic Themes deal with the development of
discernment, particularly with regard to detecting the
currents of the mind -- both those that flow out and get
involved with the world, and those that spin around with
reference to the mind in the present -- so as to touch
the aspect of the mind that doesn't flow, even to the
present moment.
The next excerpt, from
the concluding section of
The Craft of the Heart, discusses the goal of
the practice as a supreme awareness, beyond all
suppositions.
The final excerpt, from
Ajaan Lee's
Autobiography, discusses some of the lessons he
learned by living in the forest.
My hope is that this
anthology will inspire the reader to further explore
Ajaan Lee's teachings -- both through reading more of
his writings and through putting their teachings into
practice.
-- Thanissaro Bhikkhu
From
Craft of the Heart
Introduction
When I first became
aware of the conflicting views held by people who
practice -- and of how ill-informed they are -- I felt
inspired by their desire to learn the truth, but at the
same time dismayed over their views: right mixed with
wrong, some people saying that nibbana and the
paths leading to it still exist, others maintaining that
nibbana has passed away and can no longer be
attained. This latter belief is a particular cause for
dismay, because a desire for nibbana is what has
led us all to submit ourselves to the practice of the
Buddha's teachings in the first place. If we don't have
such a desire, we aren't likely to be especially sincere
in our practice; and if we aren't sincere, our practice
will be in vain as far as the benefits the Buddha
intended for us are concerned, because the Buddha's sole
purpose in teaching was to liberate living beings from
suffering and stress. If we were to worm our way in as
parasites on his religion, it would run counter to his
compassionate intentions toward us. Each and every one
of us aims for what is good, so we should pay heed to
whatever factors may lead to release from suffering and
stress. Don't let the Buddha's teaching pass by you in
vain.
By and large, from what
I've seen of people who practice, a great many of them
train themselves in ways that mix right with wrong, and
then set themselves up as teachers, instructing their
pupils in line with their various theories about
jhana, concentration, nibbana, and the stream
leading to it. The lowest level are those who get so
caught up with their own views and opinions that their
teachings can become detrimental -- saying, for example,
that we don't have enough merit to practice, that we've
been born too late for nibbana and the paths
leading to it, and so have to give up our practice.
(Opinions of this sort run the gamut from crude to
middling to subtle.)
But no matter what level
a person may know, if he doesn't know the hearts and
minds of others, he'll have great difficulty in making
his teachings effective and beneficial. Even though he
may have good intentions, if he lacks knowledge of those
he is teaching, progress will be difficult. The Buddha,
whenever he taught, knew the capabilities and
dispositions of his listeners, and the level of teaching
for which they were ripe. He then tailored his teachings
to suit their condition, which was why he was able to
get good results. Even though he had a lot of seed to
sow, he planted it only where he knew it would sprout.
If he saw that the soil was barren or the climate harsh,
he wouldn't plant any seed at all. But as for us, we
have only a fistful of rice and yet we cast it along a
mountain spine or in the belly of the sea, and so get
either meager results or none at all.
Thus in this book I have
included teachings on every level -- elementary,
intermediate, and advanced -- leaving it up to the
reader to pick out the teachings intended for his or her
own level of attainment.
In practicing
meditation, if you direct your mind along the right
path, you'll see results in the immediate present. At
the same time, if you lead yourself astray, you'll reap
harm in the immediate present as well. For the most
part, if meditators lack the training that comes from
associating with those who are truly expert and
experienced, they can become deluded or schizoid in a
variety of ways. How so? By letting themselves get
carried away with the signs or visions that appear to
them, to the point where they lose sense of their own
bodies and minds. Playing around with an external
kasina is a special culprit in this regard. Those
who lack sufficient training will tend to hallucinate,
convinced of the truth of whatever they focus on,
letting themselves get carried away by what they know
and see until they lose touch with reality, making it
difficult for any sort of discernment to arise. For this
reason, in this guide I have taught to focus exclusively
on the body and mind, the important point being not to
fasten on or become obsessed with whatever may appear in
the course of your practice.
There are a wide variety
of meditation teachers who deviate from the basic
principles taught by the Buddha. Some of them, hoping
for gain, status, or praise, set up their own creeds
with magical formulae and strict observances, teaching
their students to invoke the aid of the Buddha. (Our
Lord Buddha isn't a god of any sort who is going to come
to our aid. Rather, we have to develop ourselves so as
to reach his level.) Some teachers invoke the five forms
of rapture, or else visions of this or that color or
shape. If you see such and such vision, you attain the
first level of the path, and so on until you attain the
second, third, and fourth levels, and then once a year
you present your teacher with offerings of rice, fruit,
and a pig's head. (The Buddha's purpose in spreading his
teachings was not that we would propitiate him with
offerings. He was beyond the sway of material objects of
any sort whatsoever.) Once the pupils of such teachers
come to the end of their observances, they run out of
levels to attain, and so can assume themselves to be
Buddhas, Private Buddhas or Noble Disciples, and thus
they become instant Arahants. Their ears prick up, their
hair stands on end, and they get excited all out of
proportion to any basis in reality.
When you study with some
teachers, you have to start out with an offering of five
candles and incense sticks, or maybe ten, plus so-and-so
many flowers and so-and-so much puffed rice, on this or
that day of the week, at this or that time of day,
depending on the teacher's preferences. (If you can
afford it, there's nothing really wrong with this, but
it means that poor people or people with little free
time will have trouble getting to learn how to
meditate.) Once you finish the ceremony, the teacher
tells you to meditate araham, araham, or
buddho, buddho, until you get the vision he teaches
you to look for -- such as white, blue, red, yellow, a
corpse, water, fire, a person, the Buddha, a Noble
Disciple, heaven, hell -- and then you start making
assumptions that follow the drift of the objects you
see. You jump to the conclusion that you've seen
something special or have attained nibbana.
Sometimes the mind gathers to the point where you sit
still, in a daze, with no sense of self-awareness at
all. Or else pleasure arises and you become attached to
the pleasure, or stillness arises and you become
attached to the stillness, or a vision or a color arises
and you become attached to that. (All of these things
are nothing more than uggaha nimitta.)
Perhaps a thought arises
and you think that it's insight, and then you really get
carried away. You may decide that you're a
Stream-enterer, a Once-returner, or an Arahant, and no
one in the world can match you. You latch onto your
views as correct in every way, giving rise to pride and
conceit. (All of the things mentioned here, if you get
attached to them, are wrong.) When this happens,
liberating insight won't have a chance to arise.
So you have to keep
digging away for decades -- and then get fixated on the
fact that you've been practicing a full twenty years,
and so won't stand for it if anyone comes along and
thinks he's better than you. So, out of fear that others
will look down on you, you become even more stubborn and
proud, and that's as far as your knowledge and ingenuity
will get you.
When it comes to actual
attainment, some people of this sort haven't even
brought the Triple Gem into their hearts. Of course,
there are probably many people who know better than
this. I don't mean to cast aspersions on those who know.
For this reason, I have
drawn up this book in line with what I have studied and
practiced, If you see that this might be the path you
are looking for, give it a good look. My teacher didn't
teach like the examples mentioned above. He taught in
line with what was readily available, without requiring
that you had to offer five incense sticks or ten candles
or a pig's head or puffed rice or flowers or whatever.
All he asked was that you have conviction in the Buddha
and a willingness to practice his teachings. If you
wanted to make an offering, some candles and incense as
an offering to the Triple Gem would do -- one candle if
you had one, two if you had two; if you didn't have any,
you could dedicate your life instead. Then he would have
you repeat the formula for taking refuge in the Triple
Gem as in the method given in this book. His approach to
teaching in this way has always struck me as conducive
to the practice.
I have been practicing
for a number of years now, and what I have observed all
along has led me to have a sense of pity, both for
myself and for my fellow human beings. If we practice
along the right lines, we may very likely attain the
benefits we hope for quickly. We'll gain knowledge that
will make us marvel at the good that comes from the
practice of meditation, or we may even see the paths and
fruitions leading to nibbana in this present life
-- because nibbana is always present. It lacks
only the people who will uncover it within themselves.
Some people don't know how; others know, but aren't
interested -- and have mistaken assumptions about it to
boot: thinking, for example, that nibbana is
extinct, doesn't exist, can't be attained, is beyond the
powers of people in the present day; saying that since
we aren't Noble Disciples, how could we possibly attain
it. This last is especially deluded. If we were already
good, already Noble Disciples, what purpose would we
have in going around trying to attain nibbana?
If we don't despise the
Buddha's teachings, then we can all practice them. But
the truth of the matter is that though we worship the
Dhamma, we don't practice the Dhamma, which is the same
as despising it. If we feel well-enough situated in the
present, we may tell ourselves that we can wait to
practice the Dhamma in our next lifetime, or at least
anytime by right now. Or we may take our defilements as
an excuse, saying that we'll have to abandon greed,
anger, and delusion before we can practice the Buddha's
teachings. Or else we take our work as an excuse, saying
that we'll have to stop working first. Actually, there's
no reason that meditation should get in the way of our
work, because it's strictly an activity of the heart.
There's no need to dismantle our homes or abandon our
belongings before practicing it; and if we did throw
away our belongings in this way, it would probably end
up causing harm.
Even though it's true
that we love ourselves, yet if we don't work for our own
benefit, if we vacillate and hesitate, loading ourselves
down with ballast and bricks, we make our days and
nights go to waste. So we should develop and perfect the
factors that bring about the paths and fruitions leading
to nibbana. If you're interested, then examine
the procedures explained in the following sections. Pick
out whichever section seems to correspond to your own
level and abilities, and take that as your guide.
As for myself, I was
first attracted to the Buddha's teachings by his
statement that to lay claim to physical and mental
phenomena as our own is suffering. After considering his
teaching that the body is anatta -- not-self -- I
began to be struck by a sense of dismay over the nature
of the body. I examined it to see in what way it was
not-self, and -- as far as my understanding allowed --
the Buddha's teaching began to make very clear sense to
me. I considered how the body arises, is sustained and
passes away, and I came to the conclusion that:
(1) it arises from
upadana -- clinging through mistaken assumptions --
which forms the essence of kamma.
(2) It is sustained by
nourishment provided by our parents; and since our
parents have nothing of their own with which to nourish
us, they have to search for food -- two-footed animals,
four-footed animals, animals in the water, and animals
on land -- either buying this food or else killing it on
their own and then feeding it to us. The animals abused
in this way are bound to curse and seek revenge against
those who kill and eat them, just as we are possessive
of our belongings and seek revenge against those who rob
us.
Those who don't know the
truth of the body take it to be the self, but after
considering the diseases we suffer in our eyes, nose,
mouth, and throughout the various parts of the body, I
concluded that we've probably been cursed by the animals
we've eaten, because all of these parts come from the
food we've made of their bodies. And so our body, cursed
in this way, suffers pain with no recourse for begging
mercy. Thus, victim to the spirits of these animals, we
suffer pains in the eyes, pains in the ears, pains in
the nose and mouth and throughout the body, until in the
end we have to relinquish the whole thing so they can
eat it all up. Even while we're still living, some of
them -- like mosquitoes and sandflies -- come and try to
take it by force. If we don't let go of our attachments
to the body, we're bound to suffer for many lives to
come. This is one reason why I felt attracted to the
Buddha's teachings on not-self.
(3) The body passes away
from being denied nourishment. The fact that this
happens to us is without a doubt a result of our past
actions. We've probably been harsh with other living
beings, denying them food to the point where they've had
to part with the bodies they feel such affection for.
When the results of such actions bear fruit, our bodies
will have to break up and disband in the same way.
Considering things in
this manner caused me to feel even more attracted to the
practical methods recommended by the Buddha for seeing
not-self and letting go of our clinging assumptions so
that we no longer have to be possessive of the treasures
claimed by ignorant and fixated animals. If we persist
in holding onto the body as our own, it's the same as
cheating others of their belongings, turning them into
our own flesh and blood and then, forgetting where these
things came from, latching onto them as our very own.
When this happens, we're like a child who, born in one
family and then taken and raised in another family with
a different language, is sure to forget his original
language and family name. If someone comes along and
calls him by his original name, he most likely won't
stand for it, because of his ignorance of his own
origins. So it is with the body: Once it has grown, we
latch onto it, assuming it to be the self. We forget its
origins and so become drugged, addicted to physical and
mental phenomena, enduring pain for countless lifetimes.
These thoughts are what
led me to start practicing the teachings of the Buddha
so as to liberate myself from this mass of suffering and
stress.
From
Keeping the Breath
in Mind: Method 2
There are seven basic
steps:
1.
Start out with three or seven long in-and-out breaths,
thinking bud- with the in-breath, and dho
with the out. Keep the meditation syllable as long as
the breath.
2.
Be clearly aware of each in-and-out breath.
3.
Observe the breath as it goes in and out, noticing
whether it's comfortable or uncomfortable, broad or
narrow, obstructed or free-flowing, fast or slow, short
or long, warm or cool. If the breath doesn't feel
comfortable, change it until it does. For instance, if
breathing in long and out long is uncomfortable, try
breathing in short and out short.
As soon as you find that
your breathing feels comfortable, let this comfortable
breath sensation spread to the different parts of the
body. To begin with, inhale the breath sensation at the
base of the skull, and let it flow all the way down the
spine. Then, if you are male, let it spread down your
right leg to the sole of your foot, to the ends of your
toes, and out into the air. Inhale the breath sensation
at the base of the skull again and let it spread down
your spine, down your left leg to the ends of your toes
and out into the air. (If you are female, begin with the
left side first, because the male and female nervous
systems are different.)
Then let the breath from
the base of the skull spread down over both shoulders,
past your elbows and wrists, to the tips of your fingers
and out into the air.
Let the breath at the
base of the throat spread down the central nerve at the
front of the body, past the lungs and liver, all the way
down to the bladder and colon.
Inhale the breath right
at the middle of the chest and let it go all the way
down to your intestines.
Let all these breath
sensations spread so that they connect and flow
together, and you'll feel a greatly improved sense of
well-being.
4.
Learn four ways of adjusting the breath:
a.
in long and out long,
b. in long and out short,
c. in short and out long,
d. in short and out short.
Breathe whichever way is
most comfortable for you. Or, better yet, learn to
breathe comfortably all four ways, because your physical
condition and your breath are always changing.
5.
Become acquainted with the bases or focal points for the
mind -- the resting spots of the breath -- and center
your awareness on whichever one seems most comfortable.
A few of these bases are:
a.
the tip of the nose,
b. the middle of the head,
c. the palate,
d. the base of the throat,
e. the breastbone (the tip of the sternum),
f. the navel (or a point just above it).
If you suffer from
frequent headaches or nervous problems, don't focus on
any spot above the base of the throat. And don't try to
force the breath or put yourself into a trance. Breathe
freely and naturally. Let the mind be at ease with the
breath -- but not to the point where it slips away.
6.
Spread your awareness -- your sense of conscious feeling
-- throughout the entire body.
7.
Unite the breath sensations throughout the body, letting
them flow together comfortably, keeping your awareness
as broad as possible. Once you are fully aware of the
aspects of the breath you already know in your body,
you'll come to know all sorts of other aspects as well.
The breath, by its nature, has many facets: breath
sensations flowing in the nerves, those flowing around
and about the nerves, those spreading from the nerves to
every pore. Beneficial breath sensations and harmful
ones are mixed together by their very nature.
To summarize: (a) for
the sake of improving the energy already existing in
every part of your body, so that you can contend with
such things as disease and pain; and (b) for the sake of
clarifying the knowledge already within you, so that it
can become a basis for the skills leading to release and
purity of heart -- you should always bear these seven
steps in mind, because they are absolutely basic to
every aspect of breath meditation. When you've mastered
them, you will have cut a main road. As for the side
roads -- the incidentals of breath meditation -- there
are plenty of them, but they aren't really important.
You'll be perfectly safe if you stick to these seven
steps and practice them as much as possible.
* * *
Now we will summarize
the methods of breath meditation under the headings of
jhana.
Jhana means to be
absorbed or focused in a single object or preoccupation,
as when we deal with the breath.
1. The first jhana has
five factors:
(a) Directed thought (vitakka): Think of the
breath until you can recognize it clearly without
getting distracted. (b) Singleness of object
(ekaggatarammana): Keep the mind with the breath.
Don't let it stray after other objects. Watch over your
thoughts so that they deal only with the breath to the
point where the breath becomes comfortable. (The mind
becomes one, at rest with the breath.) (c) Evaluation
(vicara): Gain a sense of how to let this
comfortable breath sensation spread and co-ordinate with
the other breath sensations in the body. Let these
breath sensations spread until they all merge. Once the
body has been soothed by the breath, feelings of pain
will grow calm. The body will be filled with good breath
energy. (The mind is focused exclusively on issues
connected with the breath.)
These three qualities
must be brought together to bear on the same stream of
breathing for the first jhana to arise. This stream of
breathing can then take you all the way to the fourth
jhana.
Directed thought,
singleness of object and evaluation act as the causes.
When the causes are fully ripe, results will appear --
(d) rapture (piti): a compelling sense of
fullness and refreshment for body and mind, going
straight to the heart, independent of all else. (e)
Pleasure (sukha): physical ease arising from the
body's being still and unperturbed (kaya-passaddhi);
mental contentment arising from the mind's being at
ease on its own, unperturbed, serene and exultant
(citta-passaddhi).
Rapture and pleasure are
the results. The factors of the first jhana thus come
down simply to two sorts: causes and results.
As rapture and pleasure
grow stronger, the breath becomes more subtle. The
longer you stay focused and absorbed, the more powerful
the results become. This enables you to set directed
thought and evaluation (the preliminary ground-clearing)
aside, and -- relying completely on a single factor,
singleness of object -- you enter the second jhana (magga-citta,
phala-citta).
2. The second jhana has
three factors:
rapture, pleasure and singleness of object
(magga-citta). This refers to the state of mind that
has tasted the results coming from the first jhana. Once
you have entered the second level, rapture and pleasure
become stronger because they rely on a single cause,
singleness of object, which looks after the work from
here on in: focusing on the breath so that it becomes
more and more refined, keeping steady and still with a
sense of refreshment and ease for both body and mind.
The mind is even more stable and intent than before. As
you continue focusing, rapture and pleasure become
stronger and begin to expand and contract. Continue
focusing on the breath, moving the mind deeper to a more
subtle level to escape the motions of rapture and
pleasure, and you enter the third jhana.
3. The third jhana has
two factors:
pleasure and singleness of object. The body is quiet,
motionless and solitary. No feelings of pain arise to
disturb it. The mind is solitary and still. The breath
is refined, free-flowing and broad. A radiance -- white
like cotton wool -- pervades the entire body, stilling
all feelings of physical and mental discomfort. Keep
focused on looking after nothing but the broad, refined
breath. The mind is free: No thoughts of past or future
disturb it. The mind stands out on its own. The four
properties -- earth, water, fire and wind -- are in
harmony throughout the body. You could almost say that
they're pure throughout the entire body, because the
breath has the strength to control and take good care of
the other properties, keeping them harmonious and
coordinated. Mindfulness is coupled with singleness of
object, which acts as the cause. The breath fills the
body. Mindfulness fills the body.
Focus on in: The mind is
bright and powerful, the body is light. Feelings of
pleasure are still. Your sense of the body feels steady
and even, with no slips or gaps in your awareness, so
you can let go of your sense of pleasure. The
manifestations of pleasure grow still, because the four
properties are balanced and free from motion. Singleness
of object, the cause, has the strength to focus more
heavily down, taking you to the fourth jhana.
4. The fourth jhana has
two factors:
equanimity (upekkha) and singleness of object, or
mindfulness. Equanimity and singleness of object on the
fourth jhana are powerfully focused -- solid, stable and
sure. The breath element is absolutely quiet, free from
ripples and gaps. The mind, neutral and still, lets go
of all preoccupations with past and future. The breath,
which forms the present, is still, like the ocean or air
when they are free from currents or waves. You can know
distant sights, and sounds, because the breath is even
and unwavering, and so acts like a movie screen, giving
a clear reflection of whatever is projected onto it.
Knowledge arises in the mind: You know but stay neutral
and still. The mind is neutral and still; the breath,
neutral and still; past, present and future are all
neutral and still. This is true singleness of object,
focused on the unperturbed stillness of the breath. All
parts of the breath in the body connect so that you can
breathe through every pore. You don't have to breathe
through the nostrils, because the in-and-out breath and
the other aspects of the breath in the body form a
single, unified whole. All aspects of the breath energy
are even and full. The four properties all have the same
characteristics. The mind is completely still.
The
focus is strong; the light, aglow.
This is to know the great frame of reference.
The mind is beaming and bright --
like the light of the sun,
which unobstructed by clouds or haze,
illumines the earth with its rays.
The mind sheds light in
all directions. The breath is radiant, the mind fully
radiant, due to the focusing of mindfulness.
The focus is strong; the
light, aglow... The mind has power and authority. All
four of the frames of reference are gathered into one.
There is no sense that, 'That's the body... That's a
feeling... That's the mind... That's a mental quality.'
There's no sense that they're four, This is thus called
the great frame of reference, because none of the four
are in any way separate.
The
mind is firmly intent,
centered and true,
due to the strength of its focus.
Mindfulness and
alertness converge into one: This is what is meant by
the one path (ekayana-magga) -- the concord among
the properties and frames of reference, four in one,
giving rise to great energy and wakefulness, the
purifying inner fire (tapas) that can thoroughly
dispel all obscuring darkness.
As you focus more
strongly on the radiance of the mind, the power that
comes from letting go of all preoccupations enables the
mind to stand alone. You're like a person who has
climbed to the top of a mountain and has the right to
see in all directions. The mind's dwelling -- the
breath, which supports the mind's freedom -- is in a
heightened state, so the mind is able to see all things
fashioned (sankhara) clearly in terms of the
Dhamma: as properties (dhatu), khandhas,
and sense media (ayatana). Just as a person who
has taken a camera up in an airplane can take pictures
of practically everything below, so a person who has
reached this stage (lokavidu) can see the world
and the Dhamma as they truly are.
In addition, awareness
of another sort, in the area of the mind -- called
liberating insight, or the skill of release -- also
appears. The elements or properties of the body acquire
potency (kaya-siddhi); the mind, resilient power.
When you want knowledge of the world or the Dhamma,
focus the mind heavily and forcefully on the breath. As
the concentrated power of the mind strikes the pure
element, intuitive knowledge will spring up in that
element, just as the needle of a record player, as it
strikes a record, will give rise to sounds. Once your
mindfulness is focused on a pure object, then if you
want images, images will appear; if sounds, sounds will
arise, whether near or far, matters of the world or the
Dhamma, concerning yourself or others, past, present or
future -- whatever you want to know. As you focus down,
think of what you want to know, and it will appear. This
is ñana -- intuitive sensitivity capable of
knowing past, present and future -- an important level
of awareness that you can know only for yourself. The
elements are like radio waves going through the air. If
your mind and mindfulness are strong, and your skills
highly developed, you can use those elements to put
yourself in touch with the entire world, so that
knowledge can arise within you.
When you have mastered
the fourth jhana, it can act as the basis for eight
skills:
1. Vipassana-ñana:
clear intuitive insight into mental and physical
phenomena as they arise, remain and disband. This is a
special sort of insight, coming solely from training the
mind. It can occur in two ways: (a) knowing without ever
having thought of the matter; and (b) knowing from
having thought of the matter -- but not after a great
deal of thought, as in the case of ordinary knowledge.
Think for an instant and it immediately becomes clear --
just as a piece of cotton wool soaked in gasoline, when
you hold a match to it, bursts immediately into flame.
The intuition and insight here are that fast, and so
differ from ordinary discernment.
2.
Manomayiddhi:
the ability to use the mind to influence events.
3.
Iddhividhi:
the ability to display supra-normal powers, e.g.,
creating images in certain instances that certain groups
of people will be able to see.
4.
Dibbasota:
the ability to hear distant sounds.
5.
Cetopariya-ñana: the ability to know the level -- good or evil, high or low -- of other
people's minds.
6.
Pubbenivasanussati-ñana:
the ability to remember previous lifetimes. (If you
attain this skill, you'll no longer have to wonder as to
whether death is followed by annihilation or rebirth.)
7.
Dibbacakkhu: the ability to see gross and subtle images, both near and far.
8.
Asavakkhaya-ñana: the ability to reduce and eliminate the effluents of defilement in the
heart.
These eight skills come
exclusively from the centering the mind, which is why I
have written this condensed guide to concentration and
jhana, based on the technique of keeping the breath in
mind. If you aspire to the good that can come from these
things, you should turn your attention to training your
own heart and mind.
From
The Path to Peace &
Freedom for the Mind
Virtue
There are three levels
of virtue --
1. Hetthima-sila:
normalcy of word
and deed, which consists of three kinds of bodily acts
-- not killing, not stealing, not engaging in sexual
misconduct; and four kinds of speech -- not lying, not
speaking divisively, not saying anything coarse or
abusive, not speaking idly. If we class virtue on this
level according to the wording of the precepts and the
groups of people who observe them, there are four -- the
five precepts, the eight, the ten, and the 227 precepts.
All of these deal with aspects of behavior that should
be abandoned, termed pahana-kicca. At the same
time, the Buddha directed us to develop good manners and
proper conduct in the use of the four necessities of
life -- food, clothing, shelter, and medicine -- so that
our conduct in terms of thought, word, and deed will be
orderly and becoming. This aspect is termed
bhavana-kicca, behavior we should work at
developing.
Observance of these
precepts or rules -- dealing merely with words and deeds
-- forms the lower or preliminary level of virtue, which
is what makes us into full-fledged human beings
(manussa-sampatti).
2. Majjhima-sila:
the medium
level of virtue, i.e., keeping watch over your words and
deeds so that they cause no harm; and, in addition,
keeping watch over your thoughts so as to keep them
upright in three ways --
a.
Anabhijjha-visamalobha:
not coveting things that do not belong to you and that
lie beyond your scope or powers; not focusing your
thoughts on such things; not building what are called
castles in the air. The Buddha taught us to tend to the
wealth we already have so that it can grow on its own.
The wealth we already have, if we use our intelligence
and ingenuity, will draw more wealth our way without our
having to waste time and energy by being covetous or
greedy. For example, suppose we have a single banana
tree: If we water it, give it fertilizer, loosen the
soil around its roots, and guard it in other ways, our
single banana tree will eventually give rise to an
increase of other banana trees. In other words, if we're
shrewd we can turn whatever wealth we have into a basis
for a livelihood. But if we lack intelligence -- if our
hearts simply want to get, without wanting work -- then
even if we acquire a great deal of wealth, we won't be
able to support ourselves. Thus, greed of this sort, in
which we focus our desires above and beyond our
capacities, is classed as a wrong kind of mental action.
b. Abyapada:
abandoning thoughts of ill will, hatred, and vengeance,
and developing thoughts of benevolence and good will
instead; thinking of the good aspects of the people who
have angered us. When people make us angry, it comes
from the fact that our dealings with them -- in which we
associate with and assist one another -- sometimes lead
to disappointment. This gives rise to dislike and
irritation, which in turn cause us to brood, so that we
develop hurt feelings that grow into anger and thoughts
of retaliation. Thus we should regard such people from
many angles, for ordinarily as human beings they
should have some good to them. If they don't act
well toward us, they may at least speak well to us. Or
if they don't act or speak well to us, perhaps their
thoughts may be well-meaning to at least some extent.
Thus, when you find your thoughts heading in the
direction of anger or dislike, you should sit down and
think in two ways --
(1) Try to think of
whatever ways that person has been good to you. When
these things come to mind, they'll give rise to feelings
of affection, love, and good will. This is one way.
(2) Anger is something
worthless, like the scum that floats on the surface of a
lake. If we're stupid, we won't get to drink the clean
water that lies underneath; or if we drink the scum, we
may catch a disease. A person who is bad to you is like
someone sunk in filth. If you're stupid enough to hate
or be angry with such people, it's as if you wanted to
go sit in the filth with them. Is that what you want?
Think about this until any thoughts of ill will and
anger disappear.
c. Samma-ditthi:
abandoning wrong
views and mental darkness. If our minds lack the proper
training and education, we may come to think that we and
all other living beings are born simply as accidents of
nature; that 'father' and 'mother' have no special
meaning; that good and evil don't exist. Such views
deviate from the truth. They can dissuade us from
restraining the evil that lies within us and from
searching for and fostering the good. To believe that
there's no good or evil, that death is annihilation, is
Wrong View -- a product of faulty thinking and poor
discernment, seeing things for what they aren't. So we
should abandon such views and educate ourselves,
searching for knowledge of the Dhamma and associating
with people wiser than we, so that they can show us the
proper path. We'll then be able to reform our views and
make them Right, which is one form of mental
uprightness.
Virtue on this level,
when we can maintain it well, will qualify us to be
heavenly beings. The qualities of heavenly beings, which
grow out of human values, will turn us into human beings
who are divine in our virtues, for to guard our
thoughts, words, and deeds means that we qualify for
heaven in this lifetime. This is one aspect of the merit
developed by a person who observes the middle level of
virtue.
3. Uparima-sila:
higher virtue, where virtue merges with the Dhamma in
the area of mental activity. There are two sides to
higher virtue --
a.
PAHANA-KICCA: qualities to be abandoned, which are of
five sorts --
(1) Kamachanda:
affection, desire, laxity, infatuation.
(2) Byapada:
ill will and hatred.
(3) Thina-middha:
discouragement, drowsiness, sloth.
(4) Uddhacca-kukkucca:
restlessness and anxiety.
(5) Vicikiccha:
doubt, uncertainty,
indecision.
Discussion
(1) Ill will
(byapada) lies at the essence of killing
(panatipata), for it causes us to destroy our own
goodness and that of others -- and when our mind can
kill off our own goodness, what's to keep us from
killing other people and animals as well?
(2) Restlessness
(uddhacca) lies at the essence of taking what is not
given (adinnadana). The mind wanders about,
taking hold of other people's affairs, sometimes their
good points, sometimes their bad. To fasten onto their
good points isn't too serious, for it can give us at
least some nourishment. As long as we're going to
steal other people's business and make it our own, we
might as well take their silver and gold. Their bad
points, though, are like trash they've thrown away --
scraps and bones, with nothing of any substance -- and
yet even so we let the mind feed on them. When we know
that other people are possessive of their bad points and
guard them well, and yet we still take hold of these
things to think about, it should be classed as a form of
taking what isn't given.
(3) Sensual desires
(kamachanda) lie at the essence of sensual
misconduct. The mind feels an attraction for sensual
objects -- thoughts of past or future sights, sounds,
smells, tastes, or tactile sensations -- or for sensual
defilements -- passion, aversion, or delusion -- to the
point where we forget ourselves. Mental states such as
these can be said to overstep the bounds of propriety in
sensual matters.
(4) Doubt
(vicikiccha) lies at the essence of lying. In other
words, our minds are unsure, with nothing reliable or
true to them. We have no firm principles and so drift
along under the influence of all kinds of thoughts and
preoccupations.
(5) Drowsiness
(thina-middha) is intoxication -- discouragement,
dullness, forgetfulness, with no mindfulness or
restraint watching over the mind. This is what it means
to be drugged or drunk.
All of these unwise
qualities are things we should eliminate by training the
heart along the lines of:
b.
BHAVANA-KICCA: qualities to be developed --
(1) Mindfulness (sati):
Start out by
thinking of an object, such as your in-and-out
breathing. Use mindfulness to steady the mind in its
object. Vitakka, thinking in this way, is what
kills off sensual desires, in that the discipline of
mindfulness keeps the mind from slipping off into
external objects.
(2) Vicara:
Evaluate and be
observant. Make yourself aware of whether or not you've
received a sense of comfort and relaxation from your
breathing. If not, tend to the breath and adjust it in a
variety of ways: e.g., in long and out long, in long and
out short, in short and out short, in short and out
long, in slow and out slow, in fast and out fast, in
gently and out gently, in strong and out strong, in
throughout the body and out throughout the body. Adjust
the breath until it gives good results to both body and
mind, and you'll be able to kill off feelings of ill
will and hatred.
(3) Piti:
When you get good
results -- for instance, when the subtle breath
sensations in the body merge and flow together,
permeating the entire sense of the body -- the breath is
like an electric wire; the various parts of the body,
such as the bones, are like electricity poles;
mindfulness and self-awareness are like a power source;
and awareness is thus bright and radiant. Both body and
mind feel full and satisfied. This is piti, or
rapture, which can kill off feelings of drowsiness.
(4) Sukha:
Now that feelings of restlessness and anxiety have
disappeared, a sense of pleasure and ease for body and
mind arises. This pleasure is what kills off
restlessness.
(5) Ekaggata:
Doubts and uncertainty fade into the distance. The mind
reaches oneness of object in a state of normalcy and
equilibrium. This normalcy of mind, which is maintained
through the power of the discipline of mindfulness
(sati-vinaya), forms the essence of virtue:
firmness, steadiness, stability. And the resulting
flavor or nourishment of virtue is tranquillity,
light-heartedness, and a sense of independence for the
mind. When freedom of this sort arises within us, this
is called the development of silanussati, the
mindfulness of virtue. This is virtue that attains
excellence -- leading to the paths, their fruitions, and
nibbana -- and thus can be called
uparima-sila, higher virtue.
To summarize, there are
three levels of virtue: external virtue, intermediate
virtue, and internal virtue. In ultimate terms, however,
there are two --
1. Mundane virtue:
virtue connected with the world, in which we maintain
the principles of ordinary human morality but are as yet
unable to reach the transcendent levels: stream-entry,
once-returning, non-returning, and Arahantship. We can't
yet cut the Fetters (sanyojana) that tie the
heart to the influences of all the worlds. This is thus
called mundane virtue.
2. Transcendent virtue:
virtue that's constant and sure, going straight to the
heart, bathing the heart with its nourishment. This
arises from the practice of tranquillity meditation and
insight meditation. tranquillity meditation forms the
cause, and insight meditation the result: discovering
the true nature of the properties, aggregates (khandhas),
and senses; seeing clearly the four Noble Truths, in
proportion to our practice of the Path, and abandoning
the first three of the Fetters --
a. Sakkaya-ditthi
(self-identity
views): views that see the body or the aggregates as
part of the self or as belonging to the self.
Ordinarily, we may be convinced that views of this sort
are mistaken, yet we can't really abandon them. But when
we clearly see that they're wrong for sure, this is
called Right View -- seeing things as they truly are --
which can eliminate such wrong views as seeing the body
as belonging to the self, or the self as the five
aggregates, or the five aggregates as part of the self.
b. Vicikiccha:
doubt concerning what's genuine and true, and what's
counterfeit and false. The power of Right View enables
us to see that the quality to which we awaken exists at
all times; and that the true qualities that cause us to
awaken also exist and are made effective through the
power of the practices we're following. Our knowledge is
definite and true. Our doubts concerning the virtues of
the Buddha, Dhamma, and Sangha are cleared up for good.
This is called becoming a niyata-puggala, a
person who is certain and sure.
c. Silabbata-paramasa:
When the heart abandons this Fetter, it no longer dotes
on theories concerning moral virtue; it's no longer
stuck merely on the level of manners and actions.
Good and evil are accomplished through the heart;
activities and actions are something separate. Even
though people who reach this level do good -- taking the
precepts, making gifts and offerings, or meditating in
line with the good customs of the world -- they're not
caught up on any of these things, because their hearts
have reached the nourishment of virtue. They aren't
stuck on the particulars (byañjana), i.e., their
actions and activities; nor are they stuck on the
purpose (attha), i.e., the meaning or intent of
their various good manners. Their hearts dwell in the
nourishment of virtue: tranquillity, stability, normalcy
of mind. Just as a person who has felt the nourishment
that comes from food permeating his body isn't stuck on
either the food or its flavor -- because he's received
the benefits of the nourishment it provides -- in the
same way, the hearts of people who have reached the
essence of virtue are no longer stuck on actions or
manners, particulars or purposes, because they've tasted
virtue's nourishment.
This is thus classed as
transcendent virtue, the first stage of nibbana.
Even though such people may be destined for further
rebirth, they're apart from the ordinary. Anyone whose
practice reaches this level can be counted as fortunate,
as having received dependable wealth, like ingots of
gold. Just as gold can be used as currency all over the
world because it has special value for all human beings
-- unlike paper currency, whose use is limited to
specific countries -- in the same way, a heart that's
truly attained virtue has a value in this life that will
remain constant in lives to come. Thus, a person who has
reached this level has received part of the Noble Wealth
of those who practice the religion.
Concentration
Concentration has three
levels --
1.
Kamavacara-khanika-samadhi:
(momentary concentration in the sensory realm): The mind
keeps thinking, coming to rest, and running along after
worthwhile preoccupations -- either internal or external
-- on the sensory level (kamavacara-kusala):
sights, sounds, smells, flavors, tactile sensations, or
ideas. An example of this is when the mind becomes quiet
and rested for a moment as we sit listening to a sermon
or chanting. In other words, the mind grows still for
momentary periods in the same way that a person walks:
One foot takes a step while the other foot rests on the
ground, providing the energy needed to reach one's goal.
This is thus called momentary concentration, something
possessed by people all over the world. Whether or not
we practice concentration, the mind is always behaving
this way by its very nature. This is called the 'bhavanga-citta'
or 'bhavanga-pada': The mind stops for a
moment and then moves on. In developing higher levels of
concentration, we have to start out with this ordinary
level as our basis. Otherwise, the higher levels
probably wouldn't be possible. Still, this level of
concentration can't be used as a basis for discernment,
which is why we have to go further in our practice.
2.
Rupavacara-upacara-samadhi
(threshold concentration in the realm of form): This
refers to the first jhana, in which the mind comes
inward to rest on a single preoccupation within the
body, fixing its attention, for example, on the
in-and-out breath. When the mind stays with its one
object, this is called ekaggata. At the same
time, there's mindfulness keeping the breath in mind:
This is called vitakka. The mind then adjusts and
expands the various aspects of the breath throughout the
entire body, evaluating them mindfully with complete
circumspection: This is called self-awareness
(sampajañña) or vicara, which is the factor
aware of causes and results. Mindfulness, the cause, is
what does the work. Thus vitakka and vicara
cooperate in focusing on the same topic. We are then
aware of the results as they arise -- feelings of
fullness, pleasure, and ease (piti and sukha)
for body and mind. At this point, the mind lets down its
burdens to rest for a while, like a person walking along
who meets with something pleasing and attractive, and so
stops to look: Both feet are standing still, stepping
neither forward nor back.
If we aren't skilled
enough to go on any further, we will then retreat. If we
see results -- such as signs and visions -- arising in
the mind, we may get excited and so cause our original
preoccupation to waver or fade. Like a person sitting on
a chair: If he sees something appealing in front of him,
he may become so interested that he leans forward and
reaches out his hand; he may even begin to budge a bit
from his seat or stand up completely. In the same way,
if we get engrossed in visions, thoughts, or views when
we're engaged in threshold concentration, we can become
excited and pleased -- we may even think that we've
reached the transcendent -- and this can cause our
concentration to degenerate. If we try to do it again
and can't, we may then seize the opportunity to say that
we've gone beyond the practice of concentration, so that
we can now take the way of discernment -- thinking,
pondering, and letting go in line with nothing more than
our own views and ideas. This, though, is not likely to
succeed, because our knowledge has no firm basis or
core, like a wheel with no axle or hub: How can it get
anywhere? The power of threshold concentration, if we
don't watch after it well, is bound to deteriorate, and
we'll be left with nothing but old, left-over concepts.
3.
Rupavacara-appana-samadhi
(fixed penetration in the realm of form): This refers to
the practice of all four levels of rupa jhana. The first
jhana has five factors: thinking, evaluating, fullness,
pleasure, and singleness of object. The second level has
three: fullness, pleasure, and singleness of object. The
third has two: pleasure and singleness of object; and
the fourth has two: equanimity and singleness of object.
Discussion
Fixed penetration in the
realm of form means that the mind focuses on the
internal sense of the body, remaining steadily with a
single object -- such as the in-and-out breath -- until
it reaches jhana, beginning with the first level, which
is composed of thinking, evaluating, fullness, pleasure,
and singleness of object. When you see results arising,
focus in on those results and they will then turn into
the second level, which has three factors: fullness,
pleasure and singleness of object. As your focus becomes
stronger, it causes the sense of fullness to waver, so
you can now let go of that sense of fullness, and your
concentration turns into the third jhana, in which only
two factors are left: pleasure and singleness of object.
The mind has few burdens; its focus is strong and the
sense of inner light is radiant. This causes the feeling
of pleasure to waver, so that you can let go of that
sense of pleasure, and the mind attains oneness in a
very subtle preoccupation. The preoccupation doesn't
waver and neither does the mind. It stands firm in its
freedom. This is called equanimity and singleness of
object, which form the fourth jhana. Mindfulness is
powerful. Self-awareness is complete. Both are centered
on a single preoccupation without getting snagged on any
other allusions or perceptions. This mental state is
called the fourth jhana, which has two factors:
Equanimity, or stillness, is the external attitude of
the mind; as for the real factors, they're mindfulness
and singleness, steady and firm.
The mind experiences a
sense of brightness, the radiance that comes from its
state of fixed penetration. Mindfulness and
self-awareness are circumspect and all-round, and so
give rise to skill and proficiency in practicing jhana
-- in focusing, staying in place, stepping through the
various levels, withdrawing, going back and forth. When
the mind behaves as you want it to, no matter when you
practice, only then does this truly qualify as fixed
penetration, the basis for the arising of three
qualities: intuitive knowledge (ñana),
discernment (pañña), and cognitive skill
(vijja).
Intuitive knowledge here
refers to knowledge or sensitivity of an extraordinary
sort. For example --
Pubbenivasanussati-ñana:
the ability to remember previous lives.
Cutupapata-ñana:
the ability to focus
on the death and rebirth of other living beings --
sometimes in good destinations, sometimes in bad --
together with the causes that lead them to be reborn in
such ways. This gives rise to a sense of
weariness and disenchantment with sensations and mental
acts, body and mind.
Asavakkhaya-ñana:
knowing how to put
an end to the defilements of the heart in accordance
with the knowledge -- the clear vision of the four Noble
Truths -- that accompanies the particular transcendent
path reached. And there are still other forms of
extraordinary knowledge, such as iddhividhi, the
ability to display supernormal powers, to make an image
of oneself appear to other people; dibbasota,
clairaudience; dibbacakkhu, clairvoyance -- i.e.,
the ability to see objects at tremendous distances.
Discernment refers to
discriminating knowledge, clear comprehension, knowledge
in line with the truth. For example --
Attha-patisambhida:
acumen with regard to aims and results; thorough-going
comprehension of cause and effect; knowing, for example,
how stress is caused by ignorance and craving, and how
the disbanding of stress is caused by the intuitive
discernment that forms the Path; comprehending the
meaning and aims of the Buddha's various teachings and
knowing how to explain them so that other people will
understand -- being able, for instance, to summarize a
long passage without distorting its meaning.
Dhamma-patisambhida:
acumen with regard to mental qualities; knowing how to
explain deep and subtle points so that other people will
understand.
Nirutti-patisambhida:
acumen with regard to different languages. According to
the texts, this includes knowing foreign languages and
the languages of various other living beings by means of
the eye of discernment (pañña cakkhu).
Patibhana-patisambhida:
acumen with regard to expression; being fluent in making
explanations and quick-witted in debate; knowing the
most strategic way to express things.
All of these forms of
discernment can arise from training the mind to attain
fixed penetration. Vijja -- clear, open
knowledge, free from any further concealments; and
aloka -- brilliance, radiance streaming out in all
directions -- enable us to see the true nature of
sensations and mental acts, in accordance with our
powers of intuitive discernment.
Cognitive skill refers
to clear, uncanny knowledge that arises from the mind's
being firmly fixed in jhana. There are eight sorts --
(1) Vipassana-ñana:
clear comprehension of physical sensations and mental
acts (rupa, nama).
(2) Manomayiddhi:
psychic powers, influencing events through the power of
thought.
(3) Iddhividhi:
the ability to display powers, making one's body appear
in a variety of ways.
(4) Dibba-cakkhu:
clairvoyance.
(5) Dibba-sota:
clairaudience.
(6) Cetopariya-ñana:
the ability to know the mental states of other people.
(7)
Pubbenivasanussati-ñana:
the ability to remember previous lives.
(8) Asavakkhaya-ñana:
the ability
to put an end to the effluents that defile the heart.
Thus, jhana on the level
of fixed penetration is extremely important. It can give
us support on all sides -- on the level of the world and
of the Dhamma -- and can bring success in our various
activities, both in our worldly affairs and in our
Dhamma duties, leading us on to the transcendent.
To summarize, there are
two kinds of concentration:
1. That which gives rise
to mundane knowledge: This is termed mundane
concentration.
2. That which helps us
to fulfill our duties on the level of the Dhamma,
leading to vipassana-ñana or asavakkhaya-ñana,
the knowledge that enables us -- in accordance with the
discernment and insight that arise -- to abandon or cut
off completely the mental tendencies that lean in the
direction of the Fetters: This is termed transcendent
concentration.
Discernment
Discernment is of three
kinds --
1. Sutamaya-pañña:
discernment that comes from studying.
2.
Cintamaya-pañña:
discernment that comes from reflecting.
3.
Bhavanamaya-pañña: discernment that comes from developing the mind.
Discussion
l. Sutamaya-pañña
refers to the discernment that comes from having
listened a great deal, like the Venerable Ananda.
Listening here, though, includes studying and taking
interest in a variety of ways: paying attention, taking
notes, asking questions, and taking part in discussions
so as to become quick-witted and astute.
Education of all kinds
comes down to two sorts: (a) learning the basic units,
such as the letters of the alphabet, their sound and
pronunciation, so as to understand their accepted usage;
and (b) learning how to put them together -- for
instance, how to combine the letters so as to give rise
to words and meanings -- as when we complete our
elementary education so that we won't be at a loss when
we're called on to read and write in the course of
making a living.
In the area of the
religion, we have to study the letters of the Pali
alphabet, their combinations, their meanings, and their
pronunciation. If we don't understand clearly, we should
take an interest in asking questions. If we have trouble
memorizing, we should take an interest in jotting down
notes as a way of aiding our memory and expanding our
concepts. In addition, we have to study by means of our
senses. For example, when we see a visual object, we
should find out its truth. When we hear sounds or words,
we should find out their truth. When we smell an aroma,
we should consider it to see what it comes from. We
should take an interest in flavors so that we know what
they come from, and in tactile sensations -- the heat
and cold that touch the body -- by studying such things
as the way weather behaves.
All of these forms of
education are ways of giving rise to astuteness -- both
in the area of the world and in the area of the Dhamma
-- because they constitute a basic level of knowledge,
like the primary education offered in schools.
2. Cintamaya-pañña
refers to thinking and evaluating so as to learn the
meaning and truth of one's beginning education. This
level of education draws out the meaning of the
knowledge we have gained through studying. When we gain
information, we should reflect on it until we understand
it so that we will be led by our sense of reason and not
by gullibility or ignorance. This is like a person who
has used his knowledge of the alphabet to gain knowledge
from books to complete his secondary education. Such a
person has reached the level where he can think things
through clearly.
In the area of the
Dhamma, the same holds true. Once we have learned the
basics, we should research and think through the content
of the Teaching until we give rise to an understanding
so that we can conduct ourselves correctly in line with
the methods and aims taught by the sages of the past.
This level of discernment is what prepares us to conduct
ourselves properly in line with the true essence of the
Doctrine and Discipline. This is classed as an aspect of
pariyatti dhamma, Dhamma on the level of theory.
By learning the language and meaning of the Teaching, we
can become astute as far as theory is concerned; but if
we don't use that knowledge to train ourselves, it's as
if we studied a profession -- such as law -- but then
went out to become bandits, so that our knowledge
wouldn't give its proper results. For this reason, we've
been taught still another method, which is the
well-spring of discernment or mastery -- i.e., the
mental activity termed bhavanamaya-pañña.
3. Bhavanamaya-pañña:
discernment that arises exclusively from the practice of
concentration. In other words, this level of discernment
isn't related to the old observations we have gained
from the past, because our old observations are bound to
obscure the new observations, endowed with the truth,
that can arise only right at the mind. When you engage
in this form of practice, focus exclusively on the
present, taking note of a single thing, not getting
involved with past or future. Steady the mind, bringing
it into the present. Gather virtue, concentration, and
discernment all into the present. Think of your
meditation object and bring your powers of evaluation to
bear on it -- say, by immersing mindfulness in the body,
focusing on such objects as the in-and-out breath. When
you do this, knowledge will arise.
'Ñanam udapadi':
Intuitive knowledge
of things we have never before studied or known will
appear. For example: pubbenivasanussati-ñana --
the ability to remember our present life and past lives;
cutupapata-ñana -- the ability to know living
beings as they die and are reborn -- well or poorly,
happily or miserably -- knowing the causes and results
of how they fare; asavakkhaya-ñana -- the ability
to cleanse ourselves of the effluents that defile the
mind, thinning them out or eliminating them altogether,
as we are able. These three forms of knowledge don't
arise for people who simply study or think things
through in ordinary ways. They form a mental skill that
arises from the practice of concentration and are an
aspect of Dhamma on the level of practice (patipatti-dhamma).
Another aspect -- 'pañña
udapadi': Clear discernment of the true nature of
the properties (dhatu), aggregates, and sense
media arises. We can focus on these things by way of the
mind and know them in terms of the four Noble Truths:
stress (dukkha), which arises from a cause (samudaya),
i.e., ignorance and craving; and then nirodha,
the ceasing and disbanding of stress, which occurs as
the result of a cause, i.e., the Path (magga),
composed of practices for the mind. These things can be
known by means of the discernment that arises
exclusively and directly within us and is termed the eye
of discernment or the eye of Dhamma: the eye of the
mind, awakening from its slumbers.
'Vijja udapadi':
The eight forms of cognitive skill, which follow the
laws of cause and effect -- means of practice that bring
us results -- can arise in a quiet mind.
'Aloko udapadi':
Brightness, clarity, relief, and emptiness arise in such
a mind.
Thus, the discernment
that results from developing the mind differs
from the beginning stages of discernment that come from
studying and reflecting. Study and reflection are
classed as Dhamma on the level of theory, and can give
only a preliminary level of knowledge. They're like a
person who has awakened but has yet to open his eyes.
The discernment that comes from developing the mind,
though, is like waking up and seeing the truth -- past,
present, and future -- in all four directions. We can
clearly see stress, its cause, its disbanding, and the
Path to its disbanding, and so can abandon the first set
of Fetters. Our hearts will then flow to nibbana,
just as the water in a mountain cataract is sure to flow
to the sea. Our hearts will flow to their natural truth:
the mental fullness and completeness of a person who has
practiced mental development until discernment arises
within. We will meet with a special form of wisdom --
transcendent wisdom -- whose power will stay with us
always, a quality that's certain and sure, termed
certain truth, certain wisdom, making us people certain
for nibbana.
So this level of
discernment -- termed the discernment of liberating
insight -- is especially important. It arises on its
own, not from cogitating along the lines of old concepts
we've learned, but from abandoning them. Old concepts
are what obscure the new knowledge ready to arise.
The nature of liberating
insight is like an electric light: Simply press the
switch once, and things all around are made bright. In
the same way, when the mind reaches a stage of
readiness, insight will arise in a single mental
instant, and everything will become clear: properties,
aggregates, and the sense media. We'll know, on the one
hand, what's inconstant (aniccam), stressful
(dukkham), and not-self (anatta); and on the
other hand, what's uncommon, i.e., niccam --
what's constant and true; sukham -- true
happiness, termed niramisa-sukha; and atta
-- the self. The eye of the mind can know both sides and
let go both ways. It's attached neither to what's
inconstant, stressful, and not-self; nor to what's
constant (niccam), good (sukham), and
right (atta). It can let these things go, in line
with their true nature. The knowledge that comes from
discernment, cognitive skill, and intuitive insight, it
can let go as well. It isn't attached to views -- for
there's yet another, separate sort of reality that has
no 'this' or 'that.' In other words, it has no sense of
'I.' It lets go of the assumptions that, 'That's the
self,' 'That's not the self,' 'That's constant,' 'That's
inconstant,' 'That arises,' 'That doesn't arise.' It can
let go of these things completely. That's the
Dhamma, and yet it doesn't hold onto the Dhamma, which
is why we say that the Dhamma is not-self. It also
doesn't hold on to the view that says, 'not-self.' It
lets go of views, causes, and effects, and isn't
attached to anything at all dealing with wordings or
meanings, conventions or practices.
This, then, is
discernment that arises from the development of the
mind.
To conclude: The
discernment that comes from studying and reflecting is
classed as Dhamma on the level of theory. The
discernment that comes from developing the mind is
classed as Dhamma on the level of practice. The results
that arise are two --
1. Mundane discernment:
comprehension -- of the world and the Dhamma -- falling
under mundane influences and subject to change.
2. Transcendent
discernment: awareness that goes beyond the ordinary,
giving rise to clear realization within. People who
reach this level are said to have awakened and opened
their eyes, which is what is meant by 'Buddho.'
Dhamma
Talks
Insight isn't something
that can be taught. It's something you have to give rise
to within yourself. It's not something you simply
memorize and talk about. If we were to teach it just so
we could memorize it, I can guarantee that it wouldn't
take five hours. But if you wanted to understand one
word of it, three years might not even be enough.
Memorizing gives rise simply to memories. Acting is what
gives rise to the truth. This is why it takes effort
and persistence for you to understand and master this
skill on your own.
When insight arises,
you'll know what's what, where it's come from, and where
it's going -- as when we see a lantern burning brightly:
We know that, 'That's the flame... That's the smoke..
That's the light.' We know how these things arise from
mixing what with what, and where the flame goes when we
put out the lantern. All of this is the skill of
insight.
Some people say that
tranquillity meditation and insight meditation are two
separate things -- but how can that be true?
tranquillity meditation is 'stopping,' insight
meditation is 'thinking' that leads to clear knowledge.
When there's clear knowledge, the mind stops still and
stays put. They're all part of the same thing.
Knowing has to come from
stopping. If you don't stop, how can you know? For
instance, if you're sitting in a car or a boat that is
traveling fast and you try to look at the people or
things passing by right next to you along the way, you
can't see clearly who's who or what's what. But if you
stop still in one place, you'll be able to see things
clearly.
Or even closer to home:
When we speak, there has to be a pause between each
phrase. If you tried to talk without any pauses at all,
would anyone be able to understand what you said?
This is why we first
have to make the mind stop to be quiet and still. When
the mind stays still in a state of normalcy,
concentration arises and discernment follows. This is
something you have to work at and do for yourself. Don't
simply believe what others say. Get so that you know
'Oh! Oh! Oh!' from within, and not just 'Oh? Oh? Oh?'
from what people say. Don't take the good things
they say and stick them in your heart. You have to make
these things your own by getting them to arise from
within you. Spending one dollar of your own money is
better than spending 100 dollars you've borrowed from
someone else. If you use borrowed money, you have to
worry because you're in debt. If you use your own money,
there's nothing to worry about.
Stopping is what gives
rise to strength. If a man is walking or running, he
can't put up a good fight with anyone, because the
advantage lies with the person standing still, not with
the person walking or running. This is why we're taught
to make the mind stop still so that it can gain
strength. Then it will be able to start walking again
with strength and agility.
It's true that we have
two feet, but when we walk we have to step with one foot
at a time. If you try to step with both feet at once,
you won't get anywhere. Or if you try to walk with just
one foot, you can't do that either. When the right foot
stops, the left foot has to take a step. When the left
foot stops, the right foot has to take a step. You have
to stop with one foot and step with the other if you're
going to walk with any strength because the strength
comes from the foot that has stopped, not from the foot
taking a step. One side has to stop while the other side
takes a step. Otherwise, you'll have no support and are
sure to fall down. If you don't believe me, try stepping
with both feet at once and see how far you get.
In the same way,
tranquillity and insight have to go together. You first
have to make the mind stop in tranquillity and then take
a step in your investigation: This is insight
meditation. The understanding that arises is
discernment. To let go of your attachment to that
understanding is release.
So stopping is the
factor that gives rise to strength, knowledge, and
discernment -- the fixed mind that knows both the world
and the Dhamma in a state of heightened virtue,
heightened consciousness, and heightened discernment
leading on to the transcendent.
* * *
To get full results from
our meditation, the mind has to give the orders.
Mindfulness is what does the work and assists in the
progress of all our activities, while alertness is what
observes the results of what we've done. To speak in
terms of the frames of reference, these qualities are
called mindfulness and alertness. To speak in terms of
jhana, they're called directed thought and evaluation.
They're the qualities that give rise to discernment.
Discernment comes from
observing causes and effects. If we know effects without
knowing causes, that doesn't qualify as discernment. If
we know causes without knowing effects, that doesn't
qualify, either. We have to know both of them together
with our mindfulness and alertness. This is what
qualifies as all-around knowing in the full sense of the
term.
The all-around knowing
that arises within us comes from causes and effects, not
from what we read in books, hear other people tell us,
or conjecture on our own. Suppose we have some silver
coins in our pocket. If all we know is that other people
tell us it's money, we don't know its qualities. But if
we experiment with it and put it in a smelter to see
what it's made of and to see how it can be made into
other things, that's when we'll know its true qualities.
This is the kind of knowledge that comes from our own
actions. This knowledge, when we meditate, comes in five
forms. We find within ourselves that some things are
caused by the properties of the body, some are caused by
the mind, some causes come from the mind but have an
effect on the body, some causes come from the body but
have an effect on the mind, some causes come from the
body and mind acting together. This kind of knowledge is
discernment. So we have to learn from virtue,
concentration, and discernment by giving rise to them.
If we don't, we'll suffer from unawareness and delusion.
Mindfulness is what
brings light to the mind, like a candle. If we take a
candle into a room at night, close the windows and
doors, and fill in all the cracks in the walls, no wind
from outside will be able to slip in and make the flame
waver. The flame will give off even more light, and
we'll be able to see everything in the room clearly.
Closing the windows and doors and filling in the cracks
means exercising restraint over our eyes, ears, nose,
tongue, body, and mind, so that our attention doesn't go
straying out after outside perceptions and
preoccupations. This is called restraint through
mindfulness. Our mindfulness will gather into one. When
mindfulness is strong, the results are immediate: a
sense of ease and mental well-being. When mindfulness is
solid and unflagging, our concentration will become
stronger. The mind will be still and upright. Light will
arise in one of two ways: from within ourself or from
what's reflected off the walls. This is why mindfulness
is the cause, the supporting factor, that keeps our
concentration progressing.
* * *
What does discernment
come from? You might compare it with learning to become
a potter, a tailor, or a basket weaver. The teacher will
start out by telling you how to make a pot, sew a shirt
or a pair of pants, or weave different patterns, but the
proportions and beauty of the object you make will have
to depend on your own powers of observation. Suppose you
weave a basket and then take a good look at its
proportions, to see if it's too short or too tall. If
it's too short, weave another one, a little taller, and
then take a good look at it to see if there's anything
that still needs improving, to see if it's too thin or
too fat. Then weave another one, better-looking than the
last. Keep this up until you have one that's as
beautiful and well-proportioned as possible, one with
nothing to criticize from any angle. This last basket
you can take as your standard. You can now set yourself
up in business.
What you've done is to
learn from your own actions. As for your previous
efforts, you needn't concern yourself with them any
longer. Throw them out. This is a sense of discernment
that arises of its own accord, an ingenuity and sense of
judgment that come not from anything your teachers have
taught you, but from observing and evaluating on your
own the object that you yourself have made.
The same holds true in
practicing meditation. For discernment to arise, you
have to be observant as you keep track of the breath and
to gain a sense of how to adjust and improve it so that
it's well-proportioned throughout the body -- to the
point where it flows evenly without faltering, so that
it' s comfortable in slow and out slow, in fast and out
fast, long, short, heavy, or refined. Get so that both
the in-breath and the out-breath are comfortable no
matter what way you breathe, so that -- no matter when
-- you immediately feel a sense of ease the moment you
focus on the breath. When you can do this, physical
results will appear: a sense of ease and lightness, open
and spacious. The body will be strong, the breath and
blood will flow unobstructed and won't form an opening
for disease to step in. The body will be healthy and
awake.
As for the mind, when
mindfulness and alertness are the causes, a still mind
is the result. When negligence is the cause, a mind
distracted and restless is the result. So we must try to
make the causes good, in order to give rise to the good
results we've referred to. If we use our powers of
observation and evaluation in caring for the breath, and
are constantly correcting and improving it, we'll
develop awareness on our own, the fruit of having
developed our concentration higher step by step.
When the mind is focused
with full circumspection, it can let go of concepts of
the past. It sees the true nature of its old
preoccupations, that there's nothing lasting or certain
about them. As for the future lying ahead of us, it's
like having to sail a small boat across the great wide
sea: There are bound to be dangers on all sides. So the
mind lets go of concepts of the future and comes into
the present, seeing and knowing the present.
The mind stands firm and
doesn't sway.
Unawareness falls away.
Knowledge arises for an
instant and then disappears, so that you can know that
there in the present is a void.
A void.
You don't latch on to
world-fashionings of the past, world-fashionings of the
future, or dhamma-fashionings of the present.
Fashionings disappear. Avijja -- counterfeit,
untrue awareness -- disappears. 'True' disappears. All
that remains is awareness: 'buddha... buddha...'
The factor that fashions
the body, i.e., the breath; the factors that fashion
speech, i.e., thoughts that formulate words; and the
factor that fashions the mind, i.e., thinking, all
disappear. But awareness doesn't disappear. When the
factor that fashions the body moves, you're aware of it.
When the factor that fashions speech moves, you're aware
of it. When the factor that fashions the mind moves,
you're aware of it, but awareness isn't attached to
anything it knows. In other words, no fashionings can
affect it. There's simply awareness. At a thought, the
mind appears, fashionings appear. If you want to use
them, there they are. If not, they disappear on their
own, by their very nature. Awareness is above everything
else. This is release.
Meditators have to reach
this sort of awareness if they're to get good results.
In training the mind, this is all there is.
Complications are a lot of fuss and bother, and tend to
bog down without ever getting to the real point.
From
Frames of Reference
In using the mind as a
frame of reference, there are three aspects to deal
with:
A.
The mind inside.
B. The mind outside.
C. The mind in and of itself.
'The mind inside' refers
to a state exclusively in the heart when it isn't
involved with any outer preoccupations. 'The mind
outside' refers to its interaction with such outer
preoccupations as sights, sounds, etc. 'The mind in and
of itself' refers to the act of singling out any aspect
of the mind as it appears, whether inside or out.
As for the modes of the
mind inside, there are three --
1. Raga-citta:
a mental state infused with desire or passion.
2.
Dosa-citta:
a sense of inner irritation and displeasure.
3.
Moha-citta:
a cloudy, murky or confused state of mind, in which it is unable to
consider anything; in short, delusion.
The mind outside is
divided into the same three aspects -- states of
passion, irritation and delusion -- but these are said
to be 'outside' because once any of these aspects
arises, it tends to go out and latch onto an outer
preoccupation that simply serves to further aggravate
the original state of passion, irritation or delusion.
The mind then doesn't clearly or truly understand its
objects. Its knowledge goes off in various directions,
away from the truth: seeing beauty, for instance, in
things that aren't beautiful, constancy in things that
are inconstant, pleasure in things that are painful, and
self in things that are not-self.
All of these things are
aspects of the mind outside.
'The mind in and of
itself' refers to the act of singling out any one of
these aspects of the mind. For example, sometimes
passion arises, sometimes anger, sometimes delusion:
Whichever aspect may be arising in the present, single
it out. With your alertness firmly in place, be mindful
of that aspect of the mind, without making reference to
any other objects -- and without letting any hopes or
wants arise in that particular mental moment at all.
Then focus unwaveringly on investigating that state of
mind until you know its truth. The truth of these states
is that sometimes, once they've arisen, they flare up
and spread; sometimes they die away. Their nature is to
arise for a moment and then dissolve away with nothing
of any substance or worth. When you are intent on
examining things in this way -- with your mindfulness,
alertness, and powers of focused investigation firmly in
place -- then none of these defilements, even though
they may be appearing, will have the chance to grow or
spread. This is like the baskets or jars used to cover
new lettuce plants: If no one removes the baskets, the
plants will never have a chance to grow, and will simply
wither away and die. Thus you have to keep your
alertness right with each mental state as it arises.
Keep mindfulness constantly referring to its object, and
use your powers of focused investigation to burn into
those defilements so as to keep them away from the heart
at all times.
To put this another way,
all of the mental states mentioned above are like
lettuce or green-gram seeds. Mindfulness is like a
basket. Alertness is the person who scatters the seeds,
while the power of focused investigation is the heat of
the sun that burns them up.
So far, we have
mentioned only bad mental states. Their opposites are
good mental states: viraga-citta -- the mind free
from the grip of passion; adosa-citta -- the mind
free from the annoyance or anger that can lead to loss
and ruin; amoha-citta -- the mind free from
delusion, intoxication and misunderstandings. These are
skillful states of mind (kusala-citta), which
form the root of all that is good. When they arise,
maintain them and observe them so that you can come to
know the level of your mind.
There are four levels of
good mental states --
1. Kamavacara-bhumi:
the level of sensuality.
2.
Rupavacara-bhumi: the level of form.
3.
Arupavacara-bhumi:
the level of
formlessness.
4.
Lokuttara-bhumi: the transcendent level.
1. The level of
sensuality: A mental state arises and connects with a
wholesome object -- any sight, sound, smell, taste,
tactile sensation or idea that can form the basis for
skillful mental states. When it meets with its object,
it becomes happy, joyful, and glad. (Here we're
referring only to those sensory objects that are good
for the mind.) If you were to refer to the Heavens of
Sensual Bliss as they appear within each of us, the list
would run as follows: Sights that can form the basis for
skillful mental states are one level, sounds are
another, and same with smells, tastes, tactile
sensations and ideas. Together they form the six levels
of heaven on the sensual level.
2. The level of form: A
mental state arises from thinking about (vitakka)
a physical object that serves as the theme of one's
meditation; and then analyzing (vicara) the
object into its various aspects, at the same time making
sure that the mind doesn't slip away from the object
(ekaggatarammana). When the mind and its object are
one in this way, the object becomes light. The mind is
unburdened and can relax its sense of concern. Rapture
(piti) and ease (sukha) arise as a result.
When these five factors appear in the mind, it has
entered the first jhana -- the beginning stage in the
level of form.
3. The level of
formlessness: The mind lets go of its physical object on
the level of form, but is still attached to a very
subtle mental notion -- the jhana of unbounded space,
for instance, in which you are focused on a sense of
emptiness and awareness with no physical object or image
passing into your field of attention, so that you are
unable to know its full range. What has actually
happened is that you have curled up and are hiding
inside. This isn't the kind of 'going in to know' that
comes from finishing your work. It's the 'going in to
know' that comes from wanting to run away. You've seen
the faults of what arises outside you, but haven't seen
that they really lie buried within you -- so you've
hidden inside by limiting the field of your attention.
Some people, when they
reach this point, believe that they have done away with
defilement, because they mistake the emptiness for
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