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Venerable Ajahn Candasiri -
Beyond Worldly Aims and
Values
From a talk given by Ajahn Candasiri at
Cittaviveka, 28th September 1997
I always find these words paying homage to the Buddha very
helpful as a way of recollecting that which is a place of Refuge. From this
place of Refuge we can notice the Siren-songs, the voices of the world that lure
us into things that are not safe, while having this sense of refuge. Often there
are things that are much less obvious that we have to deal with and then it is
very easy to be pulled into all kinds of compulsions those very powerful
thoughts in the mind about what we should or we shouldn't do, things we should
or shouldn't be concerned about.
There is a sutta that we recite sometimes that I find most helpful as an anchor;
it's about the ten things that samanas, those who have gone forth, should
recollect frequently. The first of these ten reflections is `I am no longer
living according to worldly aims and values.' It is talking about the fact that
when one becomes a monk or a nun one gives up worldly titles. You can't actually
tell which of us are princesses or princes, titled people, we all become just
samanas.
There is a very sweet story from the time of the Buddha. After the Buddha was
enlightened, his cousins, who were all princes with noble positions, decided to
go forth, to leave their family situations, their situations of power, and go
and be his disciples. They set off with Upali who was their barber; their
intention was to send him back to the palace, but he wanted to go on with them,
to also be a disciple of the Buddha. When it came to the time for them to go
forth the Sakyan princes made sure that Upali was the first, and hence their
senior. In this way they gave up their princely status. In the same way we bow
to one another in order of seniority depending on how long we've been in the
Order.
Another way that I like to think of it is that we're operating more in terms of
Dhamma rather than looking to be very powerful or successful. In Sangha life we
can get very good at certain things; we have very skilled crafts people in the
community, we have people who are good at giving talks, we have people who are
very good at sewing or very good administrators or very good artists; but in
terms of practice these things aren't really that important. It doesn't really
matter how successful we are in worldly terms. Certainly it's nice when a
community runs smoothly, when things are well taken care of and when people can
construct buildings that don't fall down and sew their robes straight. These
kind of things are good things to do but really our gift, our offering, is in
terms of our Dhamma practice. This is a useful thing for everybody to consider,
whether living as a monk or nun or whether living a household life having to go
out and earn a living, look after a family or whatever. Because these Sirens,
these voices of the world are very powerful, very convincing and can lead us
into a lot of trouble. Since no matter how successful we are, how wonderfully we
do, the moments of great triumph where we really hit the heights in terms of
fame or prestige or do the very, very best, are only moments they don't last.
They bring a kind of pleasure and satisfaction, but if they're the thing that we
make the most important in our life our life is going to be a series of ups and
downs. We'll have moments of great success, they'll pass, and then what will we
do? We can look for another moment of success or remember that great moment,
that peak, and take it out from time-to-time and fondle it.
Having this practice gives us a chance to find something that is beyond the
world and that will endure in a way that worldly success and failure don't
endure; something that will be a real refuge to us when everything else is
falling apart. So when we are old or sick, when we are no longer able to
succeed, there is something that we can turn to as a safe abiding place. I find
this very helpful because, while there are some days in our community where
everything seems to go very well and we can certainly enjoy these there are also
days when things don't work out so well. Sometimes everybody else is feeling
fine but I'm having a bad day, I'm upset, things don't work out, the computer
doesn't do what I want it to, the fax machine breaks down. If I don't keep
remembering that I'm not living according to worldly aims and values, that it
actually doesn't matter if things go wrong, but that what is important is how I
respond to these things then I can suffer. I can either suffer, or I can
understand that this is just how it is right now. It's not my fault, it's not
anybody else's fault, it's just how things have come together. I don't have to
blame anybody, I don't have to blame myself, I don't have to fight or struggle
or try to manipulate things so that they're different, all I have to do is make
peace with things as they are. Sometimes people say, "Gosh, Buddhists are
awfully passive just making peace with things as they are. What good are you
doing for the world?" But the alternative, when we're not mindful and
things are going wrong, is we tend to tense up. A reactivity happens in the mind
and there's a closing down. It's like having blinkers on so we can only see in
one direction. We hold everything very, very tight to try and keep things the
way we think they `should be'; there's a wilfulness there. We can create a mood
of tension that everybody picks up on. This certainly brings suffering.
When we cultivate an attitude of letting go, of being present with things as
they are and making peace, then the mind is more sensitive, more responsive,
more intuitive; it is much more aware. Then one's response can be in accordance
with Dhamma; there is a sense of harmony rather than of tightness from holding
with fear or desire.
The Dhamma is one of our Refuges, a place of security. We're finding peace in
what is unpeaceful, finding security in what is insecure: just coming for Refuge
in the present moment, asking, "How is it right now?" and resting in
the present like that. When there is a sense of ease we're in tune and we can
respond in a way that is suitable, rather than a way that's wilful and that will
perpetuate agitation. Otherwise what happens is something goes wrong and there's
a rebound: we react, we say something and then somebody else gets upset with us,
and there's a general feeling of disharmony. There was a wonderful scene at
tea-time today down at the "peaceful little cottage where the nuns
live." I had an idea about how the evening was going to go; I was expecting
my first cousin once removed and another very good friend and I was going to
prepare tea and go off and talk quietly with them. As I was preparing the tea
another very good friend showed up that was very nice, I welcomed her and she
helped. Then a Tibetan nun dropped by with a friend that was a bit of a surprise
and they joined us. Then someone else came. We have a young friend who is going
through a fairly major breakdown right now, and she came wandering through doing
strange things. Then a couple of s who are on retreat in the forest came
in expecting to find the place empty and quiet and there was our small kitchen
full of people drinking tea. I was very grateful for this practice. It meant
just keeping my feet on the ground and realising that "this is how it is
right now, it's not that there's anything wrong." It's not exactly what I
had in mind for the evening but it was perfectly all right, I felt we had a very
nice time with just a whole series of different things happening. I was grateful
that I was not living according to worldly aims and values. A worldly value
would be "Well it's supposed to be like this and we're supposed to do this.
Things have gone wrong, they haven't worked out and I've got to make things all
right". When we let go whatever happens is fine, things don't have to go
according to plan this is a great security. I realise that before I started this
way of practice I was always concerned about things working out. I always had to
have an idea about how things were going to go. I had to make proper preparation
and if things didn't go right then there was tension.
When I first came into the community I went on retreat with Ajahn Viradhammo.
I remember him talking about taking refuge in Dhamma and I began to have a sense
of what this really meant `to take refuge in Dhamma' it felt awesome. I was so
used to taking refuge in my mind, my clever mind that would work things out,
that would have a plan, that would be able to judge and assess things according
to what I thought was right and proper. I realised just how much I used my
intellect to hold my world together and I began to see that actually taking
refuge in Dhamma meant letting go of this intellect, letting go of these
structures that I'd used to determine how I lived my life. It felt like a leap
of faith, being willing to let go of what I'd grown up to depend upon, to allow
myself not to have a clue, allow myself to take refuge in the moment. To know
the moment rather than hold on to a fixed view or a fixed plan.
When we talk about this turning aside from worldly aims and values, we talk
about taking refuge in Dhamma, this doesn't actually mean to give up our
intellect, it means to stop allowing it to be the master. We can still plan
things, we can still make intelligent use of the brain that we have, but we do
it from a place of Dhamma rather than a place of fear and desire. We let them
go. It does take time; we can't just do it straight away.
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