| |
Venerable Ajahn Candasiri -
Reflecting
on Kindness
Talk
by Ajahn Candasiri given at Amaravati on 15th August 2000
One of the things that most interests me is a sense of well-being. So I
thought this evening to reflect on a chant that we do very frequently in
the community. The Pali is Aham sukhito homi, niddukkho homi, avero homi,
abyapajjho homi, anigho homi, sukhi attanam pariharami - 'May I abide in
well-being, in freedom from affliction, in freedom from hostility, in
freedom from ill-will, in freedom from anxiety, and may I maintain
well-being in myself.'
The translation that's given for the word, sukhito, is 'happy' or
'blessed' - a sense of blessedness, or being blessed. This is something
we can consider. We might see it as being something to do with angels
and saints and special people. But we can also consider, in what sense
are we blessed? Is it something that we can actually bring about, just
through the way that we live our lives at the most ordinary level of
human existence?
For example, the practice of generosity, which may involve something as
simple as having time for each other, really listening to one another. I
don't like talking to people when I feel that they haven't got time for
me. I'd rather not bother. But, on the other hand, there is an
extraordinary feeling that comes when I sense that somebody is able to
take time to give full attention to me. It might just be a couple of
minutes, but the sense that the person is actually right there and able
to be with me - I find that incredibly nourishing when people can do
this. And I realise perhaps that when I can do it for other people,
that's something they find nourishing.
I think we can solve a lot of problems for each other just by being able
to do this - that it can bring about a kind of healing. This is a form
of generosity, one that we can easily underestimate the value of.
We can also reflect on the goodness, or virtue, of our lives. This is
another source of blessing - sila: the way that we hold the precepts
that we have, how we use and apply them in our lives. This is another
thing that can bring a feeling of well-being. We can take care to avoid
harming anything, even a mosquito or a slug or a spider that we might
not like particularly - that we are frightened of, or find repulsive. It
too wants to live, it too wants to be well. Gradually, what arises when
we live carefully and responsibly in this way is a sense of gladness,
which is perhaps what we mean by this feeling of being blessed. It's a
feeling of gladness and rejoicing in the presence of other beings - in
their welfare and happiness. So even very very simple beginnings in
generosity, kindliness, upholding a precept structure are a foundation
for a sense of blessing that we can enjoy in our lives.
We're not very used to enjoying these kinds of things, because usually
we think about our unworthiness - our faults and our failures - rather
than our worthiness. It's almost as if there's a fear that we might get
complacent or swollen-headed if we start thinking about how good we are!
But I think that if we don't do this, we're missing out on something
very important and precious in our lives. It's very important to enjoy
life.
We tend to think of enjoyment as being selfish or indulgent or unskilful
- but what I'm talking about is the skilful enjoyment of life. So when
we chant, 'May I abide in well-being' - aham sukhito homi - 'may I have
an experience of blessing and happiness in my life' - it's not just
wishful thinking. It's about creating the causes for a sense of blessing
to arise, and then really allowing ourselves to enjoy that sense of
blessing, that sense of well-being. It's quite legitimate to enjoy the
blessings of virtue and generosity!
When we go on our alms-round, I sometimes think, 'What on earth am I
doing?... This is crazy, going along and depending on people to get my
meal today.' But then behind that, there's the thought: 'I'm giving
people an opportunity to do something that's going to make them happy:
to practise generosity, putting something into my alms-bowl that will
not only nourish me but will also nourish their own hearts.' As any of
you who've participated in this will know, we stand in a place where
people can ignore us and pass by - and most people do. But with the ones
that actually do come up and offer something there's always a feeling of
happiness, almost a sense of fun doing something a little out of the
ordinary. Even when I did this in India and had beggars putting food in
my bowl, it was quite amazing to see the happiness that it brought them,
sharing out the little biscuits or bread that they had.
So next we have: niddukkho homi - 'May I abide in freedom from
affliction, in freedom from suffering'. We can tend to think that this
means: 'Can I please avoid suffering. I don't want suffering, I don't
like suffering - may I live free from suffering, not having suffering.'
And it would be very nice, wouldn't it, if we could live free from
suffering, without suffering. But actually it requires quite a lot of
wise reflection to live free from suffering - and there are certain
sufferings that we can't avoid. We can't avoid the sufferings of old
age, sickness, death, the death of those that we love. Then there's
bodily discomfort and pain. However, there is also a suffering that we
can avoid; but it takes practice. It takes wise reflection, it takes
effort and understanding.
There is the suffering that is because of wanting things to be other
than the way they are. We can suffer because of wanting to have a
position, to be somebody in relation to somebody else; wanting to have
our own way; wanting people to agree with us; wanting people to like us;
wanting to succeed, not wanting to fail; not wanting to be disappointed
or hurt... The list is endless isn't it? But the cure is very simple,
once we get the hang of it - learning how to let go of desire.
It's a life-time's practice, it doesn't just happen. But we can learn
how to see things in accordance with Dhamma, rather than in accordance
with our ideas, our conditioning; with our wishes, our hopes and
longings. We can learn how to see things in accordance with reality, so
that we don't pin our hopes, our aspiration, on things that can never
satisfy, can never heal us or bring us a lasting sense of happiness and
peace. So - niddukkho homi - 'freedom from affliction' - it's something
that is attainable, but it does, like everything else, require effort,
require reflection and understanding.
Then how do we let go of hostility and ill-will?... Avero homi,
abyapajjho homi: ill-will, malevolence, vengefulness, resentment,
bitterness - all of these things that cause us misery? Often we don't
even see that they're causing us suffering. People can spend hours
feeling resentful about being slighted or ignored or hurt by somebody
else. Sometimes it can go on even longer - days, weeks, months, years!
Sometimes, our grumbling can bring a kind of gratification, a feeling of
righteousness - of being right, and someone else or the situation being
wrong - but is that really happiness? Is that really well-being? When I
look into my own heart, I see that, 'No, it's not. It's not really what
I want. It's not really how I want to live my life.'
This is very important. Sometimes we're not even aware of our mental
habits. Particularly, I've found, I can be quite unaware of how I relate
to myself - the sense of criticism, judgement, ill-will that I can bear
towards this being here. I've noticed that there is a tendency to judge
and undermine myself when I make a mistake. It's like having a rather
mean parrot sitting on my shoulder, whispering: 'You're no good. You
could have done that better. Why did you do that?... Why did you say
that?... She's much better than you; you should be like her - but you
couldn't be, you're hopeless...' Probably each of you has a slightly
different voice inside - your's might be saying it in German, French,
Japanese or Chinese. Whatever language it is, it's still the same
message. It still burrows away into any sense of well-being,
blessedness, or happiness.
I remember one time at Chithurst I was having a retreat, and I was going
through the pattern 'You're no good. You should be able to meditate
better. You'll never be any good... all these years you've been
practising, and still you can't concentrate. Your mind's all over the
place. You're lazy!' - all that stuff. I remember just contemplating
this mild misery. It was just before the meal-time. I was standing by
the back door, feeling mildly miserable, and I began to reflect on one
of the qualities of the Buddha: 'bhagava', which means 'blessed one',
and I was thinking about what being blessed was: a feeling of fullness,
of happiness - and thinking: 'Well, you're not feeling very full and
happy, are you?...'
I saw that this rather pathetic, miserable, empty feeling was completely
the opposite of feeling blessed. I began to see what I was doing to
myself. There was no-one else doing it to me - it was something that was
coming from my own mind, and I realised it was there quite a lot of the
time. I saw at that point that I had a choice. I could actually choose
whether to continue to live with this mild misery, or to consciously
generate a sense of well-being, or blessedness, that was free from this
negativity. I thought, 'Well, that's not how I relate to other people.
If someone comes to me, and tells me that their meditation is no good,
or that they don't feel worthy I don't say to them: 'Well, that's true.
You're not really very good, are you?...' Usually, I say to them:
'That's all right. Don't worry. You're doing the best you can. Keep on
trying. Contemplate the goodness of your life, and realise that actually
you're doing very well - look at how most people are living.' I talk to
people in positive encouraging ways. I realised that I can do that to
myself as well, rather than being so mean and critical and nasty. So we
can learn how to relate to ourselves in more loving and positive ways.
Rather than waiting for someone else to come along and encourage us. We
can do this for ourselves.
We also need to be very careful about the ill-will that we can harbour
towards one another - particularly when we're right! Maybe someone is
making a complete mess of things, and really being quite unskilful in
the way that they're living... Well, what's a skilful response to that?
I remember years ago at the time of the Gulf War, Luang Por would listen
to the news, and each day, he would tell us about what was happening
during this war. He talked about Saddam Hussein, who was definitely
being portrayed as the villain. I noticed in my own heart a tendency to
feel a lot of anger, a lot of righteousness, indignation - even quite
powerful rage in relation to this human being, who seemed to be causing
so much harm to others.
So as I reflected on this, I thought: 'Well, is this vengefulness the
most skilful response?' There was a feeling of wanting to punish him in
some way for the things he was doing. I wanted to make sure he got what
he deserved: 'Well, he deserves something really horrible. It's up to me
to make sure he gets it!' It was a very powerful feeling. I've had it in
relation to other people as well - this sense that it's up to me to
punish and bring about justice. So, it can happen in extreme ways, quite
obvious ways; but it can also happen in quite subtle ways. I've also
noticed it in relation to little things that can happen in the monastery
- somebody consistently not turning up for the washing up, or not coming
to pˆja, or getting things wrong - I can have a similar feeling of
indignation.
There's a story that I often tell. Many years ago in Chithurst, when I
was an anagarika, I was in the kitchen making tea one day. It was winter
time and the kitchen scene at Chithurst used to be very nice, because it
was a place where it was warm - everywhere else was cold and damp. Ajahn
Anando, who was the senior monk at that particular time, came into the
kitchen - he'd obviously been having a very difficult time with
somebody; he looked at me, sighed, and said: 'Thank goodness I don't
have to be concerned with sorting out other people's kamma!' I've
reflected on that a lot - the feeling of having to sort people out, and
make sure they get their just deserts. But actually we don't have to do
that, it's not up to us to punish, or blame, or to take revenge - any of
that. We don't have to do it, we can let go of that. Such a relief. This
law of kamma, it takes care of everything. Nobody gets away with
anything.
So the good news is that it's not up to us to sort it out. Our duty is
to maintain a sense of ease and well-being. Our duty is to free the
heart from suffering. Our duty is to realise complete liberation. That's
our duty. Our duty isn't to fall into hell over somebody else's misdeed
- we don't have to do that. We have a choice. We don't have to stay, to
linger in states of resentment, bitterness or cruelty. The Buddha talks
about this in the Dhammapada; he says that hatred never ceases by
hatred. If you keep thinking about somebody who's abused you, hurt you,
robbed you, beaten you up, done whatever it is, had it in for you -
you're not going to find happiness by thinking in those ways. This
doesn't bring us a sense of happiness and well-being. With mindfulness,
we realise we have a choice. We don't have to linger in these states. We
can let them go.
But sometimes it's not so easy, is it? These thoughts can really get
under the skin and obsess the mind. It's at those times that we need to
really bring out our tool-kit - I often see the Buddha's teachings as a
tool-kit of techniques for dealing with particular difficulties. There's
a very good tool-kit for obsessive unskilful thoughts of one kind or
another. But of course we have to recognise them as being unskilful,
don't we? And that, in itself, is a very important first step.
Sometimes people become quite overwhelmed when they start to recognise
these things. They think, 'Oh, I thought I was such a nice person before
I started to meditate, and now I see all these mean nasty thoughts and
unskilful habits. But you can't begin to cure the disease until you
recognise that you have it. So when people come to me with these kind of
tales: 'I didn't realise how awful I was,' I say, 'Well that's a great
blessing to realise how awful you are! Now you can begin to do something
about it. It's a great great blessing that at last these things are
beginning to come out into the light - the dust, the cobwebs, the nasty
smelly bits.' So the first step is to recognise it, without tumbling
into further aversion and despair and misery; to see it in a positive
way: 'Ah, OK - now let's see what we can do about it.'
Firstly, it's important to see that we don't have to think these
thoughts. We don't have to carry these things around. We can set them to
one side. That's one skilful means: to realise that we have a choice.
When the thought arises, we can put our attention somewhere else.
Sometimes people say, 'Well, isn't that repressing?' - but is it? We've
recognised it, we've acknowledged it, we've seen the harmfulness of it.
Now it's time to allow it to cease, to let it go - turning our attention
to the silence, or to the body. Let go of all our thoughts, all our
concerns - just feel the contact with the floor to really feel the
breath, the body breathing... These are things we can do, aren't they?
And even if we can only do it for a moment - before the obsessive, mean,
nasty thought comes back again - just that moment is a powerful piece of
ammunition in diminishing the power of the obsessive thinking. It puts a
real dent into the mean, vengeful storyline that we've got going. So we
can just take a moment to enjoy the breath, to feel the body, rather
than allowing the obsession to completely occupy, to fill our whole mind
space.
Another thing we can do is to notice the space around or between
thoughts, or to replace a mean thought with a kind thought, say, by
trying to see things from the other person's point of view. We can try
to tune into their suffering. Like with Saddam Hussein - I'd think,
'Well, he's a human being. He wants to be happy, but he's certainly
going to have to pay a really horrible price for this cruelty he's
inflicting on others.' Just seeing that he doesn't want to suffer - and
he's going to suffer; that brings a sense of compassion straight away
into the heart. It's not condoning the cruelty, the unskilfulness of
somebody's life; but rather, it's replacing our own vengeful, mean,
nasty thoughts that are sapping our sense of well-being with something
that is more wholesome.
When we chant the sharing of blessings, the goodness of our lives with
'virtuous leaders of the world', people sometimes comment: 'But many
leaders of the world don't seem to be particularly virtuous. Many of
them seem just to want a lot of power; they do quite awful things.' But
I'm interested in helping them to be wiser, in helping them to be happy.
I know, myself, that if I'm not happy, I'm not very wise, I'm not very
mindful. If there's a feeling of tension or fear, there's not much
mindfulness and so I tend to make mistakes, to be mean, narrow-minded,
selfish, frightened. Skilfulness comes from a sense of well-being. When
people are kind to me, when I'm kind to myself, then I'm naturally more
kind to others, naturally more in tune with other beings and their
needs. So I'm quite happy to share any blessings of my life with
dictators and foolish selfish people, because I see they need all the
blessings they can get!
Then, anigho homi - freedom from anxiety: worry, too, can undermine our
sense of well- being. These last couple of days I've had quite good
reason to be anxious, as my eighty-six year-old father needed to have an
operation under a general anaesthetic. So it was quite reasonable to
feel concerned and anxious about him in hospital. 'He's quite old now -
and will he survive the operation?...' These things. But I knew actually
that worry wasn't going to help: it certainly wasn't helping me, and I
also had a sense that it wasn't really helping him either. I was quite
interested in the distinction between concern and worry. Worry seems to
me to be quite unwholesome - it's like an obsession: worry, worry,
worry! And I noticed that when I wasn't being mindful, the mind very
naturally went into worry - imagining the worst possible scenario.
Whereas concern was more, 'Well, I am concerned. There's a reason to be
concerned, but what's the skilful thing to do in response to this?'
So I decided that whenever the mind was beginning to go into worry -
beginning to imagine the worst scenario - that I would use my
imagination, the power of the mind, to imagine a different scenario. I
phoned my brother yesterday evening, and he told me that my father still
hadn't come out of the operating theatre; he'd been there for quite a
long time - longer than expected - and my mother was a bit worried. So
then, instead of worrying, I deliberately thought: 'Well, it is a very
delicate operation. Probably it's just taking a bit longer, and he's
actually making a very good recovery. He's doing really well.' And so as
I was on my walking path, I just kept thinking: 'He's doing very well,
he's getting better' rather than, 'Well, maybe he's died... and they'll
be telling my mother...' It was very easy for the mind to go into that,
but every time it did, I'd deliberately think: 'Actually he's making a
really good recovery, he's doing really well...'
How much of our lives do we spend worrying about things, being anxious
about things that haven't happened, and may never happen? Can we really
appreciate how much we undermine our sense of well-being through doing
this? Can we begin to introduce some kind of skilful means as an
antidote to worry and anxiety? So, if your mind goes into constructing
worst possible scenarios, imagine a totally amazing and wonderful and
best scenario. Doesn't it make us feel better, rather than miserable? I
tried it yesterday, and it worked really well. And, in fact, my father
is recovering well.
These are some ways we can reflect on well-being: 'May I maintain
well-being in myself'. So, it's not just a wishy-washy wish, a nice
idea, as we chant these things. These are reflections that have a lot of
guts to them, a lot that we can consider in terms of our own practice,
in a very moment-by-moment kind of way. It's not saying that we're going
to avoid every kind of suffering and difficulty; having been born into
this human realm, we have to experience all kinds of things - pain,
sickness, disease, sadness - this comes to all of us in due course. What
I'm talking about is the needless suffering; learning to recognise that,
and to replace it with something brighter and more positive. Then our
lives can be a blessing, not just for ourselves but also for each other.
Forest Sangha Newsletter: July 2001, Number 57
back |