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Wednesday, 28 September 2022

The Dhamma Eye by Thanissaro Bhikkhu.

The Dhamma Eye by Thanissaro Bhikkhu. 


Another misunderstanding about the Dhamma eye is that some people say that stream-entry is when you see that there is no self. 

But again, you have to ask: What kind of experience would give you valid grounds for saying that there is no self? 

They say: “You let go of everything, you blank out, and there’s nothing”— but that doesn’t prove anything. 

After all, there are states of concentration that the Buddha calls non-perception where you totally blank out, but they’re not noble states. 

If you happen to die while you’re in them, you go on to the state of non-percipient beings, where you’re totally unconscious. When that attainment wears off, you regain consciousness and leave that state, and then you come back to be reborn again. 

But that’s not proof of anything. In fact, if seeing that there is no self were part of stream-entry, then why did the Buddha have to give the Not-self Discourse to the five brethren after they had all become stream-enterers?

The answer comes from a passage in the Canon where a non-returner says that at his level of attainment you don’t identify around the five aggregates, even though there is still a lingering sense of self, a lingering sense of “I am.” He says it’s like the smell of a detergent used to wash clothes. You wash the clothes and you wash the detergent out— but there’s still some lingering scent. 

So, when the Buddha was teaching the five brethren the not-self-discourse, that was what he was getting at: that lingering sense of self as well the conceit “I am.”  

So, stream-entry is not simply accepting the fact of impermanence, and it’s not seeing that there is no self. It’s having an experience of the deathless. 

And you realize that you had to follow a path of practice to arrive at the threshold of the deathless, the deathless itself was nothing that you did. 

In fact, it comes at that part of the present moment where you’re not putting any intentional input in at all— not even the intention not to do anything.  

So— it hits you by surprise. When you come back from that experience, that’s when the Dhamma eye arises. 

You’ve seen something that was not originated, not subject to cessation— and from that vantage point you realize that anything you’d experienced up to that point was fabricated through the actions of the mind, yet here you’ve found something that was not fabricated in the mind. That’s why it’s so radical— because you realize that it’s also the end of suffering.  

Now, stream-entry is said to be the arising of the Dhamma eye because you see this, but you don’t fully experience it. In other words, you have your glimpse, and then it’s gone— but it has already made a big change in you.  

There’s an analogy given in the Canon: It’s like seeing water at the bottom of the well. You haven’t yet drunk the water or gone down to get immersed in the water. However, you know it’s there.

~•~•~•~

The Dhamma Eye by Thanissaro Bhikkhu. 

https://www.dhammatalks.org/Archive/Writings/Transcripts/201107_The_Dhamma_Eye.pdf




Tuesday, 27 September 2022

Why and how to cleanse the mind?

Why and how to cleanse the mind?


~~~~~~~

Brightness Within


May 18, 1958

For people to be happy or sad, good or bad, all depends on the heart. The heart is what’s in charge, the most important thing to be found in our body. That’s because it’s lasting and responsible for all the good and evil we do. As for the body, it knows nothing of pleasure or pain, happiness or sadness, and it’s not at all responsible for anyone’s good or evil actions. Why is that? Because the body isn’t lasting. It’s empty.

To say that it’s empty means that as soon as it’s deprived of breath, its four properties of earth, water, wind, and fire separate from one another and return to their original nature. The parts coming from the earth property return to be earth as they originally were. The parts coming from the water property return to be water as they originally were. The parts coming from the wind and fire properties return to be wind and fire as they originally were. There’s nothing about them that’s “woman” or “man,” “good” or “bad.” 

This is why we’re taught, 

Rūpaṁ aniccaṁ, 

physical form is inconstant. 

Rūpaṁ dukkhaṁ, 

it’s hard to bear. 

Rūpaṁ anattā, 

it’s not-self, empty, and doesn’t stay under anyone’s control. 

Even if we try to forbid it from growing old, growing sick, and dying, it won’t behave in line with our wishes. It has to fall in line with the processes of arising and wasting away in accordance with the nature of natural fabrications. This applies to everyone.

But you can’t say that the body is entirely anattā, for some parts of it are attā. In other words, they lie somewhat under our control. For instance, if you want the body to walk, it’ll walk. If you want it to lie down, it’ll lie down. If you want it to eat, it’ll eat. If you want it to take a bath, it’ll take a bath. This shows that it lies somewhat under your control. So the body is both anattā and attā. 

But even so, both aspects are equal in the sense that they’re empty and not responsible for the good or evil things we do. No matter how much good or evil you do, the body doesn’t have any part in the rewards. 

When it dies, it gets cremated and turns into ashes either way. It’s not responsible for anyone’s happiness or sadness at all. When people do good or evil, the results of their good and evil all fall to their own minds. The mind is what’s responsible for all our actions, and it’s the one that experiences the results of its actions as well. This is why the Buddha taught us to cleanse our hearts and minds, to make them pure as a way of leading us to future happiness.

What do we use to cleanse the heart and mind? We cleanse the heart and mind with skillfulness—in other words by developing skillful qualities within it through practicing concentration. We cut away all the thoughts of greed, anger, and delusion within the mind, such as the Hindrances of sensual desire, ill will, torpor & lethargy, restlessness & anxiety, and doubt. All of these qualities are things that soil the mind. 

When the mind is soiled in this way, it’s bound to suffer. It’s headed for darkness because of its own actions.

Our unskillful actions can be divided into the different ways they’re dark. Some are dark like the darkness of night, i.e., totally devoid of any brightness. Some are dark like clouds, i.e., they alternate between being dark and bright, just as when the moon is bright at some times and covered by clouds at others. Some of our unskillfulness is dark like haze, obscuring all our vision whether by day or by night. 

This third kind of unskillfulness is ignorance, or avijjā. It obscures the mind at all times so that we can’t recognize which of the mind’s objects are past, which are future, and which are present. This is why the mind concerns itself with past, present, and future so that it can’t stay firmly in any one place. It has no certainty about anything. This is ignorance. From ignorance comes craving, the cause of all stress and suffering.

To get rid of this haze we have to meditate, getting rid of thoughts and concepts of past and future by seeing them as inconstant, stressful, and not-self; seeing all the aggregates of form, feeling, perception, thought-fabrication, and consciousness as inconstant, stressful, and not-self, to the point where there is no past, no future, no present. That’s when the mind is released from the clouds and haze of its Hindrances and enters into brightness.

There are two kinds of people in the world. Some are like those with good eyes. They’re the ones who develop skillful qualities within themselves, and so they see the brightness of the world both by day and by night. Then there are those who don’t develop skillful mental qualities. They’re like people born blind: even though the light of the sun and moon may be shining, these people are in the darkness—in this case, the darkness of their own minds. This is why the Buddha taught us to remove the darkness from our minds, to remove our minds from darkness, as in the Pali verse,

Kaṇhaṁ dhammaṁ vippahāya     sukkaṁ bhāvetha paṇḍito,

which means, “Having abandoned dark qualities, the wise person develops the bright.” When people develop brightness within themselves, they can use that brightness to illuminate all their activities. This will bring them success in all they do. But if they’re in the dark, it’s as if they were blind, so that the things they do won’t succeed in full measure. For example, they may listen to the Dhamma, but if their minds are still wandering out all over the place, it’s as if they were obscured by the clouds and haze of their Hindrances.

This is why we’re taught to practice tranquility meditation, fixing the mind on a single preoccupation. Tell yourself that the qualities of the Buddha aren’t separate from the qualities of the Dhamma, which aren’t separate from the qualities of the Saṅgha. They’re actually one and the same, as the Pali verse tells us:

Buddho dhammo saṅgho cāti     nānāhontampi vatthuto

Aññamaññāviyogā va     ekībhūtampanatthato

“Although the Buddha, Dhamma, and Saṅgha may be different as objects, seemingly separate from one another, they are actually one in meaning.”

Thus when we make the mind firm in its awakened awareness, it contains the qualities of the Buddha, Dhamma, and Saṅgha all in one. That’s when our concentration will develop in the proper way.

So I ask that you abandon unskillful mental qualities and cleanse the mind so that it’s clean and pure. 

Brightness will then arise within your heart. This way you’ll experience ease and happiness without a doubt, as the Pali passage guarantees: 

Citte saṅkiliṭthe duggati pāṭikaṅkhā. 

Citte asaṅkiliṭthe sugati pāṭikaṅkhā. 

“When the mind is defiled, a bad destination can be expected. 

When the mind is undefiled, a happy destination can be expected.”

~~~~~~~  

From Brightness Within in Starting Out Small: A Collection of Talks for Beginning Meditators, by Ajaan Lee Dhammadharo. Translated by Thanissaro Bhikkhu:

https://www.dhammatalks.org/books/StartingOutSmall/Section0005.html

PDF:  https://www.dhammatalks.org/Archive/Writings/Ebooks/StartingOutSmall_181215.pdf


10th October, 2022






The Healing Power of the Precepts by Thanissaro Bhikkhu

The Healing Power of the Precepts
by Thanissaro Bhikkhu


The Buddha was like a doctor, treating the spiritual ills of the human race. The path of practice he taught was like a course of therapy for suffering hearts and minds. This way of understanding the Buddha and his teachings dates back to the earliest texts, and yet is also very current. Buddhist meditation practice is often advertised as a form of healing, and quite a few psychotherapists now recommend that their patients try meditation as part of their treatment.

After several years of teaching and practicing meditation as therapy, however, many of us have found that meditation on its own is not enough. In my own experience, I have found that Western meditators tend to be afflicted more with a certain grimness and lack of self-esteem than any Asians I have ever taught. Their psyches are so wounded by modern civilization that they lack the resilience and persistence needed before concentration and insight practices can be genuinely therapeutic. Other teachers have noted this problem as well and, as a result, many of them have decided that the Buddhist path is insufficient for our particular needs. To make up for this insufficiency they have experimented with ways of supplementing meditation practice, combining it with such things as myth, poetry, psychotherapy, social activism, sweat lodges, mourning rituals, and even drumming. The problem, though, may not be that there is anything lacking in the Buddhist path, but that we simply haven't been following the Buddha's full course of therapy.

The Buddha's path consisted not only of mindfulness, concentration, and insight practices, but also of virtue, beginning with the five precepts. In fact, the precepts constitute the first step in the path. There is a tendency in the West to dismiss the five precepts as Sunday-school rules bound to old cultural norms that no longer apply to our modern society, but this misses the role that the Buddha intended for them: They are part of a course of therapy for wounded minds. In particular, they are aimed at curing two ailments that underlie low self-esteem: regret and denial.

When our actions don't measure up to certain standards of behavior, we either 

(1) regret the actions or 

(2) engage in one of two kinds of denial, either 

(a) denying that our actions did in fact happen or 

(b) denying that the standards of measurement are really valid. These reactions are like wounds in the mind. Regret is an open wound, tender to the touch, while denial is like hardened, twisted scar tissue around a tender spot. When the mind is wounded in these ways, it can't settle down comfortably in the present, for it finds itself resting on raw, exposed flesh or calcified knots. Even when it's forced to stay in the present, it's there only in a tensed, contorted and partial way, and so the insights it gains tend to be contorted and partial as well. 

Only if the mind is free of wounds and scars can it be expected to settle down comfortably and freely in the present, and to give rise to undistorted discernment.

This is where the five precepts come in: They are designed to heal these wounds and scars. 

Healthy self-esteem comes from living up to a set of standards that are practical, clear-cut, humane, and worthy of respect; the five precepts are formulated in such a way that they provide just such a set of standards.

Practical: The standards set by the precepts are simple -- no intentional killing, stealing, having illicit sex, lying, or taking intoxicants. It's entirely possible to live in line with these standards. 

Not always easy or convenient, but always possible. I have seen efforts to translate the precepts into standards that sound more lofty or noble -- taking the second precept, for example, to mean no abuse of the planet's resources -- but even the people who reformulate the precepts in this way admit that it is impossible to live up to them. Anyone who has dealt with psychologically damaged people knows that very often the damage comes from having been presented with impossible standards to live by. If you can give people standards that take a little effort and mindfulness, but are possible to meet, their self-esteem soars dramatically as they discover that they are actually capable of meeting those standards. They can then face more demanding tasks with confidence.

Clear-cut: The precepts are formulated with no ifs, ands, or buts. This means that they give very clear guidance, with no room for waffling or less-than-honest rationalizations. An action either fits in with the precepts or it doesn't. Again, standards of this sort are very healthy to live by. Anyone who has raised children has found that, although they may complain about hard and fast rules, they actually feel more secure with them than with rules that are vague and always open to negotiation. Clear-cut rules don't allow for unspoken agendas to come sneaking in the back door of the mind. If, for example, the precept against killing allowed you to kill living beings when their presence is inconvenient, that would place your convenience on a higher level than your compassion for life. Convenience would become your unspoken standard -- and as we all know, unspoken standards provide huge tracts of fertile ground for hypocrisy and denial to grow. If, however, you stick by the standards of the precepts, then as the Buddha says, you are providing unlimited safety for the lives of all. There are no conditions under which you would take the lives of any living beings, no matter how inconvenient they might be. In terms of the other precepts, you are providing unlimited safety for their possessions and sexuality, and unlimited truthfulness and mindfulness in your communication with them. When you find that you can trust yourself in matters like these, you gain an undeniably healthy sense of self-respect.

Humane: The precepts are humane both to the person who observes them and to the people affected by his or her actions. If you observe them, you are aligning yourself with the doctrine of karma, which teaches that the most important powers shaping your experience of the world are the intentional thoughts, words, and deeds you chose in the present moment. This means that you are not insignificant. Every time you take a choice -- at home, at work, at play -- you are exercising your power in the on-going fashioning of the world. At the same time, this principle allows you to measure yourself in terms that are entirely under your control: your intentional actions in the present moment. In other words, they don't force you to measure yourself in terms of your looks, strength, brains, financial prowess, or any other criteria that depend less on your present karma than they do on karma from the past. Also, they don't play on feelings of guilt or force you to bemoan your past lapses. Instead, they focus your attention on the ever-present possibility of living up to your standards in the here and now. If you are living with people who observe the precepts, you find that your dealings with them are not a cause for mistrust or fear. They regard your desire for happiness as akin to theirs. Their worth as individuals does not depend on situations in which there have to be winners and losers. 

When they talk about developing lovingkindness and mindfulness in their meditation, you see it reflected in their actions. In this way the precepts foster not only healthy individuals, but also a healthy society -- a society in which the self-respect and mutual respect are not at odds.

Worthy of respect: When you adopt a set of standards, it is important to know whose standards they are and to see where those standards come from, for in effect you are joining their group, looking for their approval, and accepting their criteria for right and wrong. In this case, you couldn't ask for a better group to join: the Buddha and his noble disciples. The five precepts are called "standards appealing to the noble ones." From what the texts tell us of the noble ones, they are not people who accept standards simply on the basis of popularity. They have put their lives on the line to see what leads to true happiness, and have seen for themselves, for example, that all lying is pathological, and that any sex outside of a stable, committed relationship is unsafe at any speed. Other people may not respect you for living by the five precepts, but noble ones do, and their respect is worth more than that of anyone else in the world.

Now, many people find it cold comfort to join such an abstract group, especially when they have not yet met any noble ones in person. It's hard to be good-hearted and generous when the society immediately around you openly laughs at those qualities and values such things as sexual prowess or predatory business skills instead. This is where Buddhist communities can come in. It would be very useful if Buddhist groups would openly part ways with the prevailing amoral tenor of our culture and let it be known in a kindly way that they value goodheartedness and restraint among their members. In doing so, they would provide a healthy environment for the full-scale adoption of the Buddha's course of therapy: the practice of concentration and discernment in a life of virtuous action. Where we have such environments, we find that meditation needs no myth or make-believe to support it, because it is based on the reality of a well-lived life. You can look at the standards by which you live, and then breathe in and out comfortably -- not as a flower or a mountain, but as a full-fledged, responsible human being. 


For that's what you are.

Source: https://www.viet.net/anson/ebud/ebdha042.htm




Chanting After Offering of Dana ~ By Ven Aggacitta

Chanting After Offering of Dana
~ By Ven Aggacitta


After devotees have offered dana we recite Pali passages. I would like to explain the significance of this. 

Previously, we recited a verse from the Tirokutta Sutta: Yatha varivaha pura.... This sutta is about departed relatives who return to their homes only to find that because of their past bad kamma, they cannot gain access into the house as their relatives have not remembered them. 

The living must have the heart to remember the departed and make offerings to them. If they see this, they rejoice and in turn offer their good wishes for their relatives' well-being. 

During the seventh month of the lunar calendar, people have reported seeing these spirits helping themselves to the food offered to them. Although the food remains intact after these spirits have helped themselves to it, they have been seen eating the food. Possibly they extract the qi from the food. 

A meditator who has an inborn psychic ability wrote about how her dead uncle and his spirit friends came to her home and requested for permission to enter the house to join in the feast of food offerings that had been laid out. 

So the Tirokutta Sutta enjoins us to remember to make offerings to our departed relatives and they will, in return, make their wishes for us. 

In the sutta, the Buddha uses a simile to describe the offerings. He said that just as the river water flows downstream into the sea, so these offerings that you make reach the departed. 

This is the meaning of the verse Yatha varivaha pur, that we used to recite every time before we transfer merits. 

This is actually a Thai custom. On closer scrutiny of the Tirokutta Sutta however, we realised that the sutta actually mentions two types of offerings. Besides teaching us to make offerings to the departed, it also tells us to make offerings to the Sangha and then share the merits with the departed. 

Since you offer dana to the Sangha only and do not make direct offerings to the departed, we thought that it would be inappropriate to continue reciting that particular verse from the Tirokutta Sutta. Instead, we now recite the concluding two verses from that sutta, which have the following meaning: 

Further, this offering that has been given to and firmly established in the Sangha for (the departed) one’s long-term benefit is immediately appropriate / reaches the departed one immediately. 

The duty of relatives has been shown; lofty puja has been made to the departed ones; strength has been given to the bhikkhus; and much merit has been accumulated by you.

According to the commentary to this sutta, if the relatives are aware of the offerings made to the Sangha on their behalf and as such, rejoice (by saying sadhu, for example), then merits also accrue to them. This will help them to be relieved of suffering and perhaps reborn into a better existence. 

The Chinese observe the seven sets of seven days after the death of a relative. Devotees observe this custom by coming here to make offerings to the Sangha and by sharing merits with their departed relatives. This is a Chinese belief that cannot be substantiated by Theravada scriptures. What is the rationale behind it? 

According to Tibetan Buddhist belief, when a person dies, his spirit is still around and he can see his relatives crying. He feels frustrated and sad as he cannot convey to them that he is still alive and well and that they should not cry. If he hasn’t enough good kamma to bring him rebirth immediately, then at the end of the first seven days he will experience another death similar to that which he experienced when he departed from the human realm. This is repeated every seventh day if he is still unable to have rebirth. If, at the end of the forty-ninth day, his kamma has not generated rebirth, he can be considered a hungry ghost or wandering spirit. 

I’m doing research into cases of children who have spontaneous recollection of their past lives. 

Their claims can actually be verified when they are taken back to the places they claim to have existed in, in the previous life. The people and the things they speak about can be traced. Researchers have determined that some are reborn as human beings after a few years, while others after a few months. Some remember their intermediate existence between the two human lives but there have been no reports resembling the “seven sevens” experience. This seems to suggest that not everyone who dies has to go through the experience of the “seven sevens”. 

We must remember the Buddha’s teachings on honouring departed relatives. Sometimes devotees give us names of their departed relatives which we read aloud, hoping that if they are aware, they will come. Once there was a famous forest sayadaw whose mother, herself a nun, died and went to a not so happy existence. She appeared to her daughter in a dream and asked for offerings to be made to her. The family had actually made offerings in a monastery, but because they did not invite her, she could not go in (the guardian devas of the monastery would not allow her in). The sayadaw advised the family to invite her into the monastery first and then offer robes to the Sangha. In this way the gate deva would be aware of her and allow her in. So, in reading out the names handed to us by devotees, we hope that the departed spirits can be aware of their relatives’ offerings, and that thedevas here (at the Hokkien Cemetery pavilion) will allow them to come to receive the merits. 

Nowadays we also recite another sutta from the Anguttara Nikaya about the benefits of dana: Ayudo balado dhiro.... Translated, it means that when a person offers food, he is also offering five other things. 

He is giving life, strength and good looks because one needs sustenance to live, be strong and to look good. He is also giving wisdom and happiness as one who is hungry cannot study/meditate and is unhappy. After a person has consumed what has been offered, he gets all the above things as well. You too collect merits that will produce similar benefits in return. 

Some people say that they are too poor to give. Yet, without giving any material offerings, they can still get the benefits of longevity, beauty, happiness and strength. How? This is found in what we recite after every dana: 

Abhivadanasilassa, niccam vuddhapacayino; 

Cattaro dhamma vaddhanti, ayu vanno sukham balam.

This means that if they habitually respect and honour their superiors (such as parents, teachers, elders, those who have higher moral virtues and spiritual attainments), they will grow in longevity, beauty, happiness and strength. This is, in fact, a practice of humility. All of you who come here to make offerings respectfully are already practising generosity as well as respect and humility. So you will be receiving these benefits in abundance. 


Sadhu! Sadhu! Sadhu!  


Source:

http://sasanarakkha.org/talks/2003/12/chanting-after-offering-of-dana.shtml




Luang Ta Ma Wiriyatharo

Luang Ta Ma Wiriyatharo


Luang Pu said you have to do good and practice because you don’t know when you’ll die. Bad kamma ripens and then you’ll be dead. If I had not met Luang Pu, Luang Ta would have died a long time ago. Won’t have lasted until today. 

Because I didn’t practice the kammathan. There was no merit to support me. I was only interested in secular (worldly) things. Wherever my friends went, I also tagged along. Going to travel, going out to drink alcohol, just enjoying worldly pleasure. 

Suat mon I wasn’t interested. Going to Wai Phra I also didn’t do. I went to the temple when I was invited to. I ate according to tradition, listened to sermons, went to funerals. The Phra would talk about Kusala Dhamma, but I didn’t understand it. 

Now if you don’t keep praying, pae metta, and just use up all the merit you’ve accumulated in the past, you’ll soon be dead. Even if you don’t die, you won’t be in a healthy state. 

So let’s start doing meditation, start praying, start bowing down to the prestige of the Jakkapat, the Triple Gems, and Luang Pu, let them enter our lives every day. Think positive and recollect the good things that we have done everyday since a long time ago. 


Luang Ta Ma Wiriyatharo

Wat Tham Muang Na, Chiang Mai






WHAT BUDDHISTS BELIEVE by Ven Dr K Sri Dhammananda =The Significance of Transference of Merits to the Departed =

WHAT BUDDHISTS BELIEVE by Ven Dr K Sri Dhammananda 
=The Significance of Transference of Merits to the Departed =


If you really want to honor and help your departed ones, then do some meritorious deeds in their name and transfer the merits to them. 

According to Buddhism, good deeds or 'acts of merit' bring happiness to the doer both in this world and in the hereafter. Acts of merit are also believed to lead towards the final goal of everlasting happiness. The acts of merit can be performed through body, speech or mind. 

Every good deed produces 'merit' which accumulates to the 'credit' of the doer. Buddhism also teaches that the acquired merit can be transferred to others' it can be shared vicariously with others. In other words, the merit is 'reversible' and so can be shared with other persons. The persons who receive the merit can be either living or departed ones. 

The method for transferring merits is quite simple. First some good deeds are performed. The doer of the good deeds has merely to wish that the merit he has gained accrues to someone in particular, or to 'all beings'. This wish can be purely mental or it can accompanied by an expression of words.

This wish could be made with the beneficiary being aware of it. When the beneficiary is aware of the act or wish, then a mutual 'rejoicing in' merit takes place. Here the beneficiary becomes a participant of the original deed by associating himself with the deed done. If the beneficiary identifies himself with both the deed and the doer, he can sometimes acquire even greater merit than the original doer, either because his elation is greater or because his appreciation of the value of the deed is based on his understanding of Dhamma and, hence, more meritorious, Buddhist texts contain several stories of such instances. 

The 'joy of transference of merits' can also take place with or without the knowledge of the doer of the meritorious act. All that is necessary is for the beneficiary to feel gladness in his heart when he becomes aware of the good deed. If he wishes, he can express his joy by saying 'sadhu' which means 'well done'. 

What he is doing is creating a kind of mental or verbal applause. In order to share the good deed done by another, what is important is that there must be actual approval of the deed and joy arising in the beneficiary's heart. Even if he so desires, the doer of a good deed cannot prevent another's 'rejoicing in the merit' because he has no power over another's thoughts. According to the Buddha, in all actions, thought is what really matters. Transference is primarily an act of the mind. 

To transfer merit does not mean that a person is deprived of the merit had originally acquired by his good deed. On the contrary, the very act of 'transference' is a good deed in itself and hence enhances the merit already earned.


Highest Gift to the Departed

The Buddha says that the greatest gift one can confer on one's dead ancestors is to perform 'acts of merit' and to transfer these merits so acquired. He also says that those who give also receive the fruits of their deeds. The Buddha encouraged those who did good deeds such as offering alms to holy men, to transfer the merits which they received to their departed ones. 

Alms should be given in the name of the departed by recalling to mind such things as, 'When he was alive, he gave me this wealth; he did this for me; he was my relative, my companion, etc. 

(Tirokuddha Sutta -- Khuddakapatha). There is no use weeping, feeling sorry, lamenting and bewailing; such attitudes are of no consequence to the departed ones. 

Transferring merits to the departed is based on the popular belief that on a person's death, his 'merits' and 'demerits' are weighed against one another and his destiny determined, his actions determined whether he is to be reborn in a sphere of happiness or a realm of woe. The belief is that the departed one might have gone to the world of the departed spirits. The beings in these lower forms of existence cannot generate fresh merits, and have to live on with the merits which are earned from this world. 

Those who did not harm others and who performed many good deeds during their life time, will certainly have the chance to be reborn in a happy place. Such persons do not required the help of living relatives. 

However, those who have no chance to be reborn in a happy abode are always waiting to receive merits from their living relatives to offset their deficiency and to enable them to be born in a happy abode.

Those who are reborn in an unfortunate spirit form could be released from their suffering condition through the transferring of merits to them by friends and relatives who do some meritorious deeds. 

This injunction of the Buddha to transfer merits to departed ones is the counterpart of the Hindu custom which has come down through the ages. Various ceremonies are performed so that the spirits of dead ancestors might live in peace. This custom has been a tremendous influence on the social life of certain Buddhist countries. The dead are always remembered when any good deed is done, and more on occasions connected with their lives, such as their birth or death anniversaries. On such occasions, there is a ritual which is generally practised. 

The transferor pours water from a jug or other similar vessel into a receptacle, while repeating a Pali formula which is translated as follows:

As river, when full must flow and reach and fill the distant main, So indeed what is given here will reach and bless the spirits there. As water poured on mountain top must soon descend and fill the plain So indeed what is given here will reach and bless the spirits there.(Nidhikanda Sutta in Khuddakapatha)

The origin and the significance of transference of merit is open to scholarly debate. Although this ancient custom still exists today in many Buddhists countries, very few Buddhists who follow this ancient custom have understood the meaning of transference of merits and the proper way to do that. 

Some people are simply wasting time and money on meaningless ceremonies and performances in memory of departed ones. These people do not realize that it is impossible to help the departed ones simply by building big graveyards, tombs, paper-houses and other paraphernalia Neither is it possible to help the departed by burning joss-sticks, joss-paper, etc.; nor is it possible to help the departed by slaughtering animals and offering them along with other kinds of food. Also one should not waste by burning things used by the departed ones on the assumption that the deceased persons would somehow benefit by the act, when such articles can in fact be distributed among the needy. 

The only way to help the departed ones is to do some meritorious deeds in a religious way in memory of them. The meritorious deeds include such acts as giving alms to others, building schools, temples, orphanages, libraries, hospitals, printing religious books for free distribution and similar charitable deeds. 

The followers of the Buddha should act wisely and should not follow anything blindly. While others pray to god for the departed ones, Buddhists radiate their loving-kindness directly to them. By doing meritorious deeds, they can transfer the merits to their beloved ones for their well-being. This is the best way of remembering and giving real honor to and perpetuating the names of the departed ones. In their state of happiness, the departed ones will reciprocate their blessings on their living relatives. It is, therefore, the duty of relatives to remember their departed ones by transferring merits and by radiating loving-kindness directly to them.







Monday, 26 September 2022

Refuge to the Triple Gem· Uncertainty, Insecurity, and Instability

Refuge to the Triple Gem· Uncertainty, Insecurity, and Instability

By Prof. David Dale Holmes

Concerning the conventional view of the body, the influential Thai monk Luang Phor Viriyang Sirintharo wrote:

The first media is the body. It refers to our physical body which is capable of obtaining all of the feelings and emotions and communicating through its five senses. The body can co-function with the mind, and it is also under its control.

One usually thinks of the body as one’s whole self.

In other words, for better or for worse, in the conventional sense, we try to get the most out of our lives and our bodies for as long as we can, for as long as they last—especially in terms of physical pleasure. This is because in our minds, especially in present-day culture, we mistakenly consider the body as being a source of satisfying sense experiences, as being beautiful, as being pleasurable and satisfying, despite the obvious fact that we are growing older and becoming weaker, and inherently knowing we are slowly dying.

The so-called beauty of the body—the body beautiful—is a deeply embedded socio-cultural myth which the mind just does not want to let go of and will not give up. The body, we must accept (our own body or that of another) is not a beautiful object in the way that would desire it to be, in the way we see in movies or on TV. 

The body is not here in the world solely for the purpose of fulfilling our dreams.

Despite the truth that the body is not at all what we imagine it to be within the distortions of our mind’s eye, we foolishly continue to believe in the reverse of the truth. Ironically, we often ignoring even our own bodily aches and pains as undeniable, physical indications of decay, deterioration, and dissolution, contrary even to obvious visual and physical discrepancies that anyone else can see.

In summary, despite all obvious evidence to the contrary, we continue to hang on to wrong beliefs about the pleasing and satisfying nature of the body. We do this with such a stubborn tenacity that it becomes almost impossible for most men and women to shake it loose and see the actual corporeal truth of the body—the way it really is—as being in a state of slow decay and dissolution.

Indeed, the psychophysical organism actually enjoys becoming and being an economic, commercial, product consumer in the mundane physical world. Even when it has the occasional insight that, socio-economically, people today are overtly and subliminally being trained and bred by advertisers, marketers, and the media within the popular structure of modern society. 

This takes place especially through movies and TV, to make us even more willing and enthusiastic consumers, whom manufacturers and entrepreneurs can easily continue to stimulate and cultivate, to train and brainwash, so that we will continue feeding—with ever-new-generations arising—on waves of ever-arising needs, indefinitely and forever—if the world might ever be said to last that long.

Everything is nourishment. And in such a scenario, those who feed our needs are also well-rewarded, well-provided for, and well-nourished through their manipulative marketing strategies and contrivances. In plain words, such service-providers live off of supplying our unexamined, unskilful wants and needs. There is hardly an ounce of morality in it. It’s merely consumer greed taking advantage of people’s inherent weaknesses, wants, and desires for psychophysical stimulation and nourishment. Not so much for the good of society as  just a way to make money, merely for profit’s sake, wherever there is a market to be exploited.

Such greed, based on unnecessary need, is morally indefensible from both the consumer and the producer perspective. But there are very few in today’s world who would want to see it that way. People feed wherever there is need. And this, it  seems, has become the predominant way of life.

Why is this so?

The answer is as follows: If one is the need for nourishment, and two is the mind and the body (Pali: nama-rupa), there are as yet three things of which so-called “normal mortals” in the conventional, socio-cultural sense, are wholly ignorant. These are the three things that common men and women do not want to know, which they unconsciously want to overlook and ignore because their view is based on wrong seeing, wrong attitude, and wrong view.


Luang Phor Viriyang Sirintharo. 

From wikimedia.org

These three things are the Three Signata, namely: impermanence (anicca), suffering (dukkha), and non-self (anatta)—the three causes of ignorance (avijja) that common, everyday people do not know about.

The causes of human arising and excruciating existential anguish may be probed and, preliminarily, diagnosed in sequence by disclosing some perhaps not-so-well-known perspectives concerning perception, deception, and insight meditation. To echo Luang Phor Viriyang’s quotation on the body cited above, it is our physical body in which the feelings and emotions arise, through sequences of perception of contact to the five senses and reactions and actions of the mind.

Concerning the body, a common, everyday person in today’s world usually thinks of their body as being solid and his consciousness as somehow permanently connected to their body and to other perceptual objects in what they consider to be “their world.” People simply believe that everything they see and conceive of, including their bodily selves, is fixed and permanent, to be used for fulfillment and enjoyment, although this is certainly not true and is based on delusional view.

A human’s identifying bodily perception and arising consciousness with any sense of a permanent self is actually based on ignorance (avijja)—delusion about self-in-the-world and about the way things really are.

Such wrong view is dependent, as we have indicated, on the delusive compulsion to nourish an ego-centric need for a substantial sense of self-assurance, for an undeniable and absolute guarantee that we will always be able to nourish and feed our personal desires for continuing self-satisfaction and continuing existence. An assumed satisfaction and existence that we wish to imagine can never be taken away from us.

This wrong view arises out of the dangerous and harmful part of the mind that greedily reaches after the things that it hopes and thinks can guarantee lasting happiness. These might include a good family, a good home, and good neighbors, and even existence for eternity.

But in the long run, because of the impermanent nature of all things, this actually leads to a continuing and disturbing sense of uncertainty, to insecurity instability, and to unhappiness and un-satisfactoriness because—as we all know—things almost never turn out to be as we have “dreamed them to be.”



References

Viriyang, Luang Phor. 1999. Meditation Instructor Course I. Bangkok: Willpower Institute (private printing of internal handout.) 


Thanks Claudia: 😁



Benefits of placing monk photos around

Benefits of placing monk photos around


Traditionally in the past at Wat Sakae, Luang Pu taught that one must calm one’s mind first (samatha) before practising Vipassana (insight) meditation. Holding the amulet in one’s hand, we sit in a proper meditation posture and recite Buddham Saranam Gacchami until the mind becomes one-pointed. 

However, Luang Pu knew that for many people, it is not that easy to enter samadhi and make one’s mind one-pointed. On some days, we might feel that the breath or katha recitation doesn’t work. 

Instead of giving up, Tahn taught that if one is feeling very restless, distracted or just out of sorts, you can use certain techniques to calm the mind such as looking at the Buddha’s photo or imagine a monk in front of you, reciting Buddham Saranam Gacchami together with you. 

These are just skillful means to encourage faith and help one’s mind calm down.

But Luang Ta adopted this technique and used it as the focus of his meditation. As a layman, he had great faith in Luang Pu. He carried a photo of Luang Pu in his pocket everywhere he went. Even in his house, he put Luang Pu’s photo on his walls everywhere. 

Even when he was alone in Muang Na cave, he used the amulet that Luang Pu gave him (I heard from a disciple that it was a big palm sized one) as an object of meditation. 

Eventually, he was able to connect to Luang Pu’s stream of energy, which was useful for Luang Ta to spread merit and energy to spirits around him and help them to cross-over. 

Luang Ta taught that as long as one’s mind is with Luang Pu, you are already gaining merit. 

It is better than thinking about unskillful things all day long.

And for those who have more developed senses, Luang Ta taught that they can perceive that the Bodhisattas’ and Arahants’ photos emit light and positive energy. Put photos of the Phra around a dying Buddhist and they can follow the light after they pass on. 

Except that the aura is a bit different. Photos and amulets of Arahants have a clear, calm, crystal-like energy, whereas the auras of Bodhisattas are more lively and energetic because they are still around in Samsara, and are ever ready to help us. 

Luang Ta mentioned that the photos of Luang Pu are "alive”. This is the same reason why if you ever go to Luang Phor Kuay’s temple in Chainat, you will see a long queue (even on weekdays) where devotees from all over Thailand come to Wat Kositaram to invite a photo of LP Kuay home. 

And to be very honest, LP Kuay’s followers are even more devoted to LP Kuay’s photos than LP Doo’s devotees. You won’t see hordes of people rushing to invite LP Doo’s photos at Wat Sakae, even though they are readily available at the amulet counter 😅





The Look Kaew of Luang Pu Thuad

The Look Kaew of Luang Pu Thuad

According to the records, Luang Pu Thuad had a powerful crystal ball. It is said that a King Cobra spit out a crystal ball for Luang Pu as an offering when he was just an infant. 

Luang Pu’s parents were out working in the fields and tied his hammock/cradle for Luang Pu to rest in under a shady tree. At present, the location is now Samnak Song Na Bplay. 

When Luang Pu grew up, his parents gave him this crystal ball that they had been keeping for him. Luang Pu treasured it as a precious possession and carried it around with him wherever he went. 

In the ancient days of Ayutthaya there was an epidemic, Luang Pu took out his majestic crystal ball and set his mind to pray, making holy water for the people until the epidemic subsided. 

When Luang Pu restored and stayed at Wat Pak Kho for the phansa, he enshrined this look kaew on the top of the chedi, which was therefore named "Suwan Malik Chedi Sri Rattana Mahathat".

Unfortunately, the crystal ball fell down one day and suffered some damage. Wat Pak Kho kept it safely for the devotees of Luang Pu Thuad to pay respects to up to the present day. 

There has been many miraculous events related to this look kaew koo baramee of Luang Pu Thuad. 


Cr. https://www.facebook.com/Luangphorthuad/posts/pfbid0JLQ5E8BB3jgrep266TJd4Pfa9Fe3dTAS6ejPcA2sPZjVBtBjBH6oUMuLBYeUGrMLl











Generosity First

Generosity First


Several years ago, when Ajaan Suwat was teaching a retreat at IMS, I was his interpreter. 

After the second or third day of the retreat he turned to me and said, "I notice that when these people meditate they're awfully grim." 

You'd look out across the room and all the people were sitting there very seriously, their faces tense, their eyes closed tight. It was almost as if they had Nirvana or Bust written across their foreheads.

He attributed their grimness to the fact that most people here in the West come to Buddhist meditation without any preparation in other Buddhist teachings. They haven't had any experience in being generous in line with the Buddha's teachings on giving. They haven't had any experience in developing virtue in line with the Buddhist precepts. They come to the Buddha's teachings without having tested them in daily life, so they don't have the sense of confidence they need to get them through the hard parts of the meditation. They feel they have to rely on sheer determination instead.

If you look at the way meditation, virtue, and generosity are taught here, it's the exact opposite of the order in which they're taught in Asia. 

Here, people sign up for a retreat to learn some meditation, and only when they show up at the retreat center do they learn they're going to have to observe some precepts during the retreat. And then at the very end of the retreat they learn that before they'll be allowed to go home they're going to have to be generous. It's all backwards.

Over in Thailand, children's first exposure to Buddhism, after they've learned the gesture of respect, is in giving. You see parents taking their children by the hand as a monk comes past on his alms round, lifting them up, and helping them put a spoonful of rice into the monk's bowl. Over time, as the children start doing it themselves, the process becomes less and less mechanical, and after a while they begin to take pleasure in giving.

At first this pleasure may seem counterintuitive. The idea that you gain happiness by giving things away doesn't come automatically to a young child's mind. But with practice you find that it's true. After all, when you give, you put yourself in a position of wealth. The gift is proof that you have more than enough. At the same time it gives you a sense of your worth as a person. You're able to help other people. The act of giving also creates a sense of spaciousness in the mind, because the world we live in is created by our actions, and the act of giving creates a spacious world: a world where generosity is an operating principle, a world where people have more than enough, enough to share. 

And it creates a good feeling in the mind.

From there, the children are exposed to virtue: the practice of the precepts. 

And again, from a child's point of view it's counterintuitive that you're going to be happy by not doing certain things you want to do — as when you want to take something, or when you want to lie to cover up your embarrassment or to protect yourself from criticism and punishment. But over time you begin to discover that, yes, there is a sense of happiness, there is a sense of wellbeing that comes from being principled, from not having to cover up for any lies, from avoiding unskillful actions, from having a sense that unskillful actions are beneath you.

So by the time you come to meditation through the route of giving and being virtuous, you've already had experience in learning that there are counterintuitive forms of happiness in the world. When you've been trained through exposure to the Buddha's teachings, you've learned the deeper happiness that comes from giving, the deeper happiness that comes from restraining yourself from unskillful actions, no matter how much you might want to do them. 

By the time you come to the meditation you've developed a certain sense of confidence that so far the Buddha has been right, so you give him the benefit of the doubt on meditation.

This confidence is what allows you to overcome a lot of the initial difficulties: the distractions, the pain. 

At the same time, the spaciousness that comes from generosity gives you the right mindset for the concentration practice, gives you the right mindset for insight practice — because when you sit down and focus on the breath, what kind of mind do you have? The mind you've been creating through your generous and virtuous actions. A spacious mind, not the narrow mind of a person who doesn't have enough. It's the spacious mind of a person who has more than enough to share, the mind of a person who has no regrets or denial over past actions. In short, it's the mind of a person who realizes that true happiness doesn't see a sharp dichotomy between your own wellbeing and the wellbeing of others.

The whole idea that happiness has to consist either in doing things only for your own selfish motives or for other people to the sacrifice of yourself — the dichotomy between the two — is something very Western, but it's antithetical to the Buddha's teachings. According to the Buddha's teachings, true happiness is something that, by its nature, gets spread around. By working for your own true benefit, you're working for the benefit of others. And by working for the benefit of others, you're working for your own. In the act of giving to others you gain rewards. In the act of holding fast to the precepts, holding fast to your principles, protecting others from your unskillful behavior, you gain as well. You gain in mindfulness; you gain in your own sense of worth as a person, your own self-esteem. You protect yourself.

So you come to the meditation ready to apply the same principles to training in tranquillity and insight. You realize that the meditation is not a selfish project. You're sitting here trying to understand your greed, anger, and delusion, trying to bring them under control — which means that you're not the only person who's going to benefit from the meditation. 

Other people will benefit — are benefiting — as well. As you become more mindful, more alert, more skillful in undercutting the hindrances in your mind, other people are less subject to those hindrances as well. Less greed, anger, and delusion come out in your actions, and so the people around you suffer less. Your meditating is a gift to them.

The quality of generosity, what they call caga in Pali, is included in many sets of Dhamma teachings. One is the set of practices leading to a fortunate rebirth. This doesn't apply only to the rebirth that comes after death, but also to the states of being, the states of mind you create for yourself moment to moment, that you move into with each moment. You create the world in which you live through your actions. By being generous — not only with material things but also with your time, your energy, your forgiveness, your willingness to be fair and just with other people — you create a good world in which to live. If your habits tend more toward being stingy, they create a very confining world, because there's never enough. 

There's always a lack of this, or a lack of that, or a fear that something is going to slip away or get taken away from you. So it's a narrow, fearful world you create when you're not generous, as opposed to the confident and wide-open world you create through acts of generosity.

Generosity also counts as one of the forms of Noble Wealth, because what is wealth aside from a sense of having more than enough? 

Many people who are materially poor are, in terms of their attitude, very wealthy. And many people with a lot of material wealth are extremely poor. The ones who never have enough: They're the ones who always need more security, always need more to stash away. 

Those are the people who have to build walls around their houses, who have to live in gated communities for fear that other people will take away what they've got. That's a very poor kind of life, a confined kind of life. But as you practice generosity, you realize that you can get by on less, and that there's a pleasure that comes with giving to people. Right there is a sense of wealth. You have more than enough.

At the same time you break down barriers. Monetary transactions create barriers. 

Somebody hands you something, you have to hand them money back, so there's a barrier right there. Otherwise, if you didn't pay, the object wouldn't come to you over the barrier. 

But if something is freely given, it breaks down a barrier. You become part of that person's extended family. In Thailand the terms of address that monks use with their lay supporters are the same they use with relatives. 

The gift of support creates a sense of relatedness. The monastery where I stayed — and this includes the lay supporters as well as the monks — was like a large extended family. 

This is true of many of the monasteries in Thailand. 

There's a sense of relatedness, a lack of boundary.

We hear so much talk on "interconnectedness." 

Many times it's explained in terms of the teaching on dependent co-arising, which is really an inappropriate use of the teaching. 

Dependent co-arising teaches the connectedness of ignorance to suffering, the connectedness of craving to suffering. That's a connectedness within the mind, and it's a connectedness that we need to cut, because it keeps suffering going on and on and on, over and over again, in many, many cycles. But there's another kind of connectedness, an intentional connectedness, that comes through our actions. These are kamma connections. 

Now, we in the West often have problems with the teachings on kamma, which may be why we want the teachings on connectedness without the kamma. 

So we go looking elsewhere in the Buddha's teachings to find a rationale or a basis for a teaching on connectedness, but the real basis for a sense of connectedness comes through kamma. When you interact with another person, a connection is made.

Now, it can be a positive or a negative connection, depending on the intention. With generosity you create a positive connection, a helpful connection, a connection where you're glad that the boundary is down, a connection where good things can flow back and forth. If it's unskillful kamma, you're creating a connection, you're creating an opening that sooner or later you're going to regret. There's a saying in the Dhammapada that a hand without a wound can hold poison and not be harmed. In other words, if you don't have any bad kamma, the results of bad kamma won't come to you. 

But if you have a wound on your hand, then if you hold poison it will seep through the wound and kill you. Unskillful kamma is just that, a wound. It's an opening for poisonous things to come in.

The opposite principle also works. If there's a connection of skillful behavior, a good connection is formed. This sort of positive connection starts with generosity, and grows with the gift of virtue. As the Buddha said, when you hold to your precepts no matter what, with no exceptions, it's a gift of security to all beings. You give unlimited security to everyone, and so you have a share in that unlimited security as well. With the gift of meditation, you protect other people from the effects of your greed, anger, and delusion. And you get protected as well.

So this is what generosity does: It makes your mind more spacious and creates good connections with the people around you. It dissolves the boundaries that otherwise would keep the happiness from spreading around.

When you come to the meditation with that state of mind, it totally changes the way you approach meditating. So many people come to meditation with the question, "What am I going to get out of this time I spend meditating?" Particularly in the modern world, time is something we're very poor in. So the question of getting, getting, getting out of the meditation is always there in the background. 

We're advised to erase this idea of getting, yet you can't erase it if you've been cultivating it as a habitual part of your mind. But if you come to the meditation with experience in being generous, the question becomes "What do I give to the meditation?" You give it your full attention. You give it the effort, you're happy to put in the effort, because you've learned from experience that good effort put into the practice of the Dhamma brings good results. 

And so that internal poverty of "What am I getting out of this meditation?" gets erased. 

You come to the meditation with a sense of wealth: "What can I give to this practice?"

You find, of course, that you end up getting a lot more if you start with the attitude of giving. 

The mind is more up for challenges: "How about if I give it more time? How about meditating later into the night than I usually do? 

 How about getting up earlier in the morning?

 How about giving more constant attention to what I'm doing? 

How about sitting longer through pain?" The meditation then becomes a process of giving, and of course you still get the results. When you're not so grudging of your efforts or time, you place fewer and fewer limitations on the process of meditation. That way the results are sure to be less grudging, more unlimited, as well. So it's important that we develop the Noble Wealth of generosity to bring to our meditation.

The texts mention that when you get discouraged in your meditation, when the meditation gets dry, you should look back on past generosity. This gives you a sense of self-esteem, a sense of encouragement. Of course, what generosity are you going to look back on if there is none? This is why it's important that you approach the meditation having practiced generosity very consciously.

Many times we ask, "How do I take the meditation back into the world?" 

But it's also important that you bring good qualities of the world into your meditation, good qualities of your day-to-day life, and that you develop them regularly. Thinking back on past acts of generosity gets dry after a while if there's only been one act of generosity that happened a long time ago. You need fresh generosity to give you encouragement.

So this is why, when the Buddha talked about the forms of merit, he said, "Don't be afraid of merit, for merit is another word for happiness." 

The first of the three main forms of merit is dana, giving, which is the expression of generosity. The gift of being virtuous builds on the simple act of giving, and the gift of meditation builds on both.

Of course, a large part of the meditation is letting go: letting go of distractions, letting go of unskillful thoughts. If you're used to letting go of material things, it comes a lot easier to begin experimenting with letting go of unskillful mental attitudes — things that you've held on to for so long that you think you need them, but when you really look at them you find you don't. In fact, you see that they're an unnecessary burden that causes suffering. When you see the suffering, and the fact that it's needless, you can let go. In this way, the momentum of giving carries all the way through the practice, and you realize that it's not depriving you of anything. It's more like a trade. You give away a material object and you gain in generous qualities of mind. 

You give away your defilements, and you gain freedom.

Out of: "Meditations 1: Forty Dhamma Talks", by Thanissaro Bhikkhu. Access to Insight (BCBS Edition), 30 November 2013, http://www.accesstoinsight.org/lib/authors/thanissaro/meditations.html





The Knower Can Change

The Knower Can Change 


Ajahn Chah: You use thinking, but you also see. You see above and beyond your thinking right there. And then you don't believe in line with that kind of thing any more. Do you understand? 

We suppose that the mind knows sensations. But when we really speak about the mind, this is something above the mind. Whatever the mind arises from, we call it the mind. The mind arises and disbands. It arises and disbands, this mind.

But this other thing isn’t the mind that arises and disbands. It’s a different experience. All the things that are that truth: They don’t arise and don’t disband. They’re just the way they are. 

They go past the issues of arising and disbanding. 

But when you call them the mind, it’s just in terms of suppositions. When you speak in terms of suppositions, you believe in your own mind—and then what happens? Where does this mind come from? 

You’ve believed in this mind for so long, and there’s no ease. Right?

In the beginning you know about inconstancy, stress, and not-self. These are issues of the mind. But that reality doesn’t have any issues. It lets go. It lets go of the things that the mind arises with and depends on, but it doesn’t arise or disband at all. The things that arise and disband depend on perceptions and fabrications. 

We think that because contemplation uses perceptions, then they must be discernment. And so we latch onto fabrications, thinking they’re discernment. But that’s not genuine discernment. 

Genuine discernment puts an end to issues. It knows, and that’s the end of issues. There are still fabrications, but you don’t follow in line with them. There are sensations, you’re aware of them, but you don’t follow in line with them. You keep knowing that they’re not the path any more.

Question: What do we do to find this point, the point of the genuine mind?

Ajahn Chah: You keep track of this mind, first. You see that it’s inconstant, not for sure. See that clearly. 

You see that there’s nothing to take hold of, and so you let go. The mind lets go of itself. 

It understands itself. It lets go of this mind. 

At that point, there’s no more need to fabricate it, but there are no more doubts about anything. 

That’s called… Whatever name you call it, it’s a matter of supposition and formulation. You make suppositions about it for people to learn about it, but that nature is just the way it is. 

It’s like the ground. What spins around is on top of the ground. But this thing is the ground. 

What doesn’t arise or disband is the ground. What arises and runs around on top, we call “the mind,” or “perception,” or “fabrication.” 

To put it in simple terms, there are no forms, feelings, perceptions, fabrications, or consciousness in the ground. In terms of supposition, form, feelings, perceptions, fabrications, and consciousness arise and disband. But they’re not in this. They disband.

It’s like the question that Ven. Sāriputta asked Ven. Puṇṇa Mantāniputta. Have you ever read that? 

Ven. Puṇṇa Mantāniputta was going out into the forest to follow the ascetic practices. His teacher had taught him about the ascetic practices. 

So Ven. Sāriputta asked him, “Puṇṇa Mantāniputta, when you go out into the forest, suppose someone asks you this question, ‘When an arahant dies, what is he?’ How would you answer?”

That’s because this had already happened.

Ven. Puṇṇa Mantāniputta said, “I’ll answer that form, feeling, perceptions, fabrications, and consciousness arise and disband. That’s all.”

Ven. Sāriputta said, “That’ll do. That’ll do.”

When you understand this much, that’s the end of issues. When you understand it, you take it to contemplate so as to give rise to discernment. See clearly all the way in. 

It’s not just a matter of simply arising and disbanding, you know. That’s not the case at all. You have to look into the causes within your own mind. You’re just the same way: arising and disbanding. 

Look until there’s no pleasure or pain. Keep following in until there’s nothing: no attachment. 

That’s how you go beyond these things. 

Really see it that way; see your mind in that way. This is not just something to talk about. Get so that wherever you are, there’s nothing. Things arise and disband, arise and disband, and that’s all. 

You don’t depend on fabrications. You don’t run after fabrications. But normally, we monks fabricate in one way; lay people fabricate in crude ways. But it’s all a matter of fabrication. If we always follow in line with them, if we don’t know, they grow more and more until we don’t know up from down.

Question: But there’s still the primal mind, right?

Ajahn Chah: What?

Question: Just now when you were speaking, it sounded as if there were something aside from the five aggregates. What else is there? You spoke as if there were something. What would you call it? The primal mind? Or what?

Ajahn Chah: You don’t call it anything. Everything ends right there. There’s no more calling it “primal.” 

That ends right there. “What’s primal” ends.

Question: Would you call it the primal mind?

Ajahn Chah: You can give it that supposition if you want. When there are no suppositions, there’s no way to talk. There are no words to talk. But there’s nothing there, no issues. It’s primal; it’s old. There are no issues at all. 

But what I’m saying here is just suppositions. “Old,” “new”: These are just affairs of supposition. 

If there were no suppositions, we wouldn’t understand anything. We’d just sit here silent without understanding one another. So understand that.


~•~•~•~

Still Flowing Water: 

Eight Dhamma Talks, by Venerable Ajahn Chah, and translated by Ṭhānissaro Bhikkhu.

https://www.dhammatalks.org/ebook_index.html#StillFlowingWater





“Vannana is the connector.”

The Teachings of Ajahn Suchart.

10th October, 2022


“Vannana is the connector.”

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Layperson (M):  In the past, my mind always travelled out of the body. Is there a point when the mind won’t come back to the body?

Tahn Ajahn: Yes, it’s when the body dies, when the body doesn’t function any more. The mind separates from the body. 

Layperson (M): My body is still working during that period. Will the mind come back?

Tahn Ajahn: Actually, the mind doesn’t leave. It’s just sort of pulling itself back inside the mind. 

When you meditate, you pull your viññāṇa inside temporarily.  Viññāṇa is the connector that connects your mind to your body, the connector that connects your mind to your sense organs – to your eyes, ears, nose, tongue, and body. 

You are not unplugging it but you just stop it from receiving information from the body. To the mind, it feels like there is no physical body. And after you come out of your meditation, the viññāṇa reconnects back and receives the information from the body again. 

It will only be permanently disconnected when the body dies. When the body dies, the mind and the body will be completely separated. And then, the mind will go seek for a new body because the mind still has cravings or desires to have the physical body as the means to look for happiness. If it still has cravings for sensual pleasure, cravings for being and cravings for not-being, then you will be directed to go to get a new body. That’s when you get rebirth.  


Youtube: “Dhamma in English, Dec 9, 2018.”

By Ajahn Suchart Abhijāto

www.phrasuchart.com

Latest Dhamma talks on Youtube: 

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCi_BnRZmNgECsJGS31F495g



The Teachings of Ajahn Suchart.

The Teachings of Ajahn Suchart.

23 August 2024

"Question:  When it is said that one is enlightened or awakened, what is he awakened from?"

Than Ajahn:  He is awakened from delusion. Delusion to think that everything belongs to him, everything makes him happy but in fact that everything that he has will make him sad and unhappy because one day everything will separate from him. If he doesn’t see this separation he will think everything he possesses will always make him happy. One day when things disappear from him, he becomes sad. 

For an enlightened person he sees that everything he possesses he will have to lose it, so he decided not to become attach to anything because he does not want to be unhappy. An enlightened person sees everything is aniccā: everything rises and ceases. He sees everything is anattā: everything doesn’t belong to him. He sees if he becomes attach to it he will become sad when it leaves him. So this is what enlightenment is. 

Enlightenment has four levels: Sotāpañña, Sakadāgāmī, Anāgāmī and Arahant. They have different levels of attachment. A Sotāpañña has gotten rid of his attachment to the body, to aging, sickness and death but he is still attached to the beauty of the body. He still has sexual desire so he has to let go of his sexual desire by contemplating on asubha for him to become enlightened to the true nature of the body, that the body is not pretty, the body is repulsive. 

The next two levels of enlightenment is to see the body as asubha, not beautiful. 

The Sakadāgāmī level is the second level which let you see partial part of asubha, but you have not yet seen it completely. The third level of enlightenment will let you see completely the asubha nature of the body, which means seeing asubha at all time. Every time you see a body you see it as asubha right away, so this is an Anāgāmī level. 

Once you get to the third level, then you have totally understood the true nature of the body and you have totally let go of the body and you will not come back and be reborn as a human anymore because you see the human body as asubha and as aniccā. Once you are born, the body gets old, gets sick and dies, so an Anāgāmī will not come back to take a new body, he will be reborn in the brahma level, being without a body. The brahma level is the level where the mind still has attachment to the good feelings of the brahma level, that is the good feelings arise from the peace. 

In brahma level you find happiness in the state of peace of mind, but this is also aniccāṁ, dukkhaṁ, anattā. You have to understand that it is temporary and you have to let go of this attachment and to see that even this happiness that you have in the level of jhāna is still impermanent and you should not attach to it because if you attach to it, that means you still have desire and this desire will bring you dukkha. 

So you have to get rid of your desire even if you are in brahma level. You have to see that the happiness of the brahma level is also aniccāṁ, dukkhaṁ, anattā. Once you have seen this then you become fully enlightened and you don’t have any attachment to any form of happiness. By letting go of every form of happiness, you realise a new form happiness, happiness without having anything: happiness from emptiness, Nibbāna paramaṁ suññnaṁ – this is the highest level of happiness.


By Ajaan Suchart Abhijāto

www.phrasuchart.com

Youtube: Dhamma in English

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCi_BnRZmNgECsJGS31F495g