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Monastery
of Confusion
(Talk
given at Wat Nanachat 1977)
What’s important is not staying or going, but our thinking. So all of you,
please work together, cooperate, and live in harmony. This should be the
legacy you create here at Wat Pah Nanachat Bung Wai, the International Forest
Monastery of Bung Wai District. Don’t let it become Wat Pah Nanachat Woon
Wai, the International Forest Monastery of Confusion and Trouble (one of
AC’s favorite plays on words). Whoever comes to stay here should be helping
create this legacy.
The way I see it, the laypeople are providing robes material, almsfood, the
dwelling place, and medicines in appropriate measure. It’s true that they
are simple country folk, but they support you out of their faith as best they
can. Don’t get carried away with your ideas of how you think they should be,
such as, “Oh, I try to teach these laypeople, but they do make me upset.
Today is the observance day, and they came to take precepts. Then tomorrow
they’ll go casting their fishing nets. They’ll drink their whiskey. They
do these things right out there where anyone can see. Then the next observance
day, they’ll come again. They’ll take the precepts and listen to the
Dharma talk again, and then they’ll go to put out their nets again, kill
animals again, and drink again.”
You can get pretty upset thinking like this. You’ll think that your
activities with the laypeople don’t bring any benefit at all. Today they
take the precepts, and tomorrow they go cast the fishing nets. A monk without
much wisdom might get discouraged and feel he’s failed, thinking his work
bears no fruit. But it’s not that his efforts have no result; it’s those
laypeople who get no result. Of course there is some good result from making
efforts at virtue. So when there is such a situation and we start to suffer
over it, what should we do?
We contemplate within ourselves to recognize that our good intentions have
brought some benefit and do have meaning. It’s just that the spiritual
faculties of those people aren’t developed. They aren’t strong yet.
That’s how it is for now, so we patiently continue to advise them. If we
just give up on such people, they are likely to become worse than they are
now. If we keep at it, they may come to maturity one day and recognize their
unskillful actions. Then they will feel some remorse and start to be ashamed
of doing such things.
Right now, they have the faith to support us with material offerings, giving
us our requisites for living. I’ve considered this: it’s quite a big deal.
It’s no small thing. Donating our food, our dwellings, the medicines to
treat our illnesses, is not a small thing. We are practicing for the
attainment of Nirvana. If we don’t have any food to eat, that will be pretty
difficult. How would we sit in meditation? How would we be able to build this
monastery?
We should recognize when people’s spiritual faculties are not yet mature. So
what should we do? We are like someone selling medicine. You’ve probably
seen or heard them driving around with their loudspeakers touting the
different medicines they have for different maladies. People who have bad
headaches or poor digestion might come to buy. (note: this is a standard way
of doing business in Asia, especially in villages and small towns, but even in
Japanese cities. A pickup truck drives around with a loudspeaker and products
to sell.)
We can accept money from those who buy our medicine; we don’t take money
from someone who doesn’t buy anything. We can feel glad about the people who
do buy something. If others stay in their houses and don’t come out to buy,
we shouldn’t get angry with them for that. We shouldn’t criticize them.
If we teach people but they can’t practice properly, we shouldn’t be
getting angry with them. Don’t do that! Don’t criticize them, but rather
keep on instructing them and leading them along. Whenever their faculties have
ripened sufficiently, then they will want to do it. Just like when we are
selling medicine, we just keep on doing our business. When people have
ailments that trouble them, they will buy. Those who don’t see a need to buy
medicine probably aren’t suffering from any such conditions. So never mind.
Keeping at it with this attitude, these problems will be done with. There were
such situations in the Buddha’s time too. We want to do it right, but
somehow we can’t get there yet; it means that our own faculties are not
sufficiently mature. Our spiritual perfections (parami) are not complete.
It’s like fruit that’s still growing on the tree. If you want to force it
to be sweet, you can’t. It’s still unripe, it’s small and sour, simply
because it hasn’t finished growing. You can’t force it to be bigger, to be
sweet, to be ripe—you have to let it ripen according to its nature. As time
passes and things change, people may come to spiritual maturity. As time
passes, the fruit will grow and ripen and become sweet of its own. With such
an attitude, you can be at ease. But if you are impatient and dissatisfied, if
you keep asking, “Why isn’t this mango sweet yet? Why is it sour?” when
it isn’t ripe, then what can be done? It’s still sour because it’s not
ripe. That’s the nature of fruit.
The people in the world are like that. It makes me think of the Buddha’s
teaching about four kinds of lotus. Some are still in the mud, some have grown
out of the mud and are in the water, some are at the surface of the water, and
some have come out of the water and bloomed. So the Buddha was able to give
his teachings to so many various beings because he understood their different
levels of spiritual development. We should think about this and not feel
oppressed by what happens here. Just consider yourselves to be like someone
selling medicine. Your responsibility is to advertise it and make it
available. If someone gets sick, they are likely to come and buy it. Likewise,
if people’s spiritual faculties mature sufficiently, one day they are likely
to develop faith. It’s not something we can force them to do. Seeing it in
this way, we will be OK.
Living here is certainly meaningful. It’s not something without benefit. All
of you, please practice together harmoniously and amicably. When you
experience obstacles and suffering, recollect the virtues of the Buddha. What
was the knowledge the Buddha realized? What did the Buddha teach? What does
the Dharma point out? How does the Sangha practice? Constantly recollecting
the qualities of the Three Jewels brings a lot of benefit.
Whether you are Thais or people from other countries is not important. It’s
important to maintain harmony and work together. People come from all over to
visit this monastery. When folks come to Wat Pah Pong, I urge them to come
here, to see the monastery, to practice here. It’s a legacy you are
creating. It seems that the populace have faith and are gladdened by it. So
don’t forget yourselves. You should be leading people rather than being led
by them. Make your best efforts to practice well and establish yourselves
firmly, and the good results will come.
Are there any doubts about practice you need to resolve now?
Q:
When the mind isn’t thinking much, but is in a sort of dark and dull state,
is there something we should do to brighten it? Or should we just sit with it?
AC:
Is this all the time, or when you are sitting in meditation? What exactly is
this darkness like? Is it a lack of wisdom?
Q:
When I sit to meditate, I don’t get drowsy, but my mind feels dark, sort of
dense or opaque.
AC:
So you would like to make your mind have wisdom, right? Change your posture,
and do a lot of walking meditation. That’s one thing to do. You can walk for
three hours at a time, until you’re really tired.
Q:
I do walking meditation a couple of hours a day, and I usually have a lot of
thinking when I do it. But what really concerns me is this dark state when I
sit. Should I just try to be aware of it and let go, or is there some means I
should use to counter it?
AC:
I think maybe your postures aren’t balanced. When you walk, you have a lot
of thinking. So you should do a lot of discursive contemplation, then the mind
can retreat from thinking. It won’t stick there. But never mind. For now,
increase the time you spend on walking meditation. Focus on that. Then if the
mind is wandering, pull it out and do some contemplation, such as
investigation of the body. Have you ever done that continuously, rather than
as an occasional reflection?
When you experience this dark state, do you suffer over it?
Q:
I feel frustrated because of my state of mind--I’m not developing samadhi or
wisdom.
AC:
When you have this condition of mind, the suffering comes about because of not
knowing. There is doubt as to why the mind is like this. The important
principle in meditation is that whatever occurs, don’t be in doubt over it.
Doubt only adds to the suffering. If the mind is bright and awake, don’t
doubt that. It’s a condition of mind. If it’s dark and dull, don’t doubt
about that. Just continue to practice diligently without getting caught up in
reactions to that state. Taking note and being aware of your state of mind,
don’t have doubts about it. It is just what it is. When you entertain doubts
and start grasping at it and giving it meaning, then it is dark.
As you do your practice, these states are things you encounter as you progress
along. You needn’t have doubts about them. Notice them with awareness, and
keep letting go.
How about sleepiness? Is your sitting more sleepy or awake?
(No
reply)
Maybe
it’s hard to recall if you’ve been sleepy! If this happens, meditate with
your eyes open. Don’t close them. Instead, you can focus your gaze on one
point, such as the light of a candle. Don’t close your eyes! This is one way
to remove the hindrance of drowsiness.
When
you’re sitting, you can close your eyes from time to time, and if the mind
is clear, without drowsiness, you can then continue to sit with your eyes
closed. If it’s dull and sleepy, open your eyes and focus on the one point.
It’s similar to kasina meditation. Doing this, you can make the mind awake
and tranquil. The sleepy mind isn’t tranquil; it’s obscured by hindrance
and it’s in darkness.
We
should talk about sleep also. You can’t simply go without sleep. That’s
the nature of the body. If you’re meditating and you get unbearably,
completely sleepy, then let yourself sleep. That’s also one way to quell the
hindrance when it’s overwhelming you.
Otherwise,
you practice along, keeping the eyes open if you have this tendency to get
drowsy. Close your eyes after a while and check your state of mind. If it’s
clear, you can practice with eyes closed. Then after some time you take a
rest. Some people are always fighting against sleep. They force themselves not
to sleep, and the result is that when they sit, they are always drifting off
to sleep and falling over themselves, sitting in an unaware state.
Q:
Can we focus on the tip of the nose?
LP:
That’s fine. Whatever suits you, whatever you feel comfortable with and
helps you fix your mind, focus on that.
It’s like this: in teaching meditation, if we get attached to the ideals and
take the guidelines too literally, it can be difficult to understand. When
doing a standard meditation, such as mindfulness of breathing, first we should
make the determination that right now, we are going to do this practice, and
we are going to make mindfulness of breathing our foundation. We turn our
attention to only focusing on the breath at three points, as it passes through
the nostrils, the chest, and the abdomen. When the air enters, it first passes
the nose, then through the chest, then to the end point of the abdomen. As it
leaves the body, the beginning is the abdomen, the middle is the chest, and
the end is the nose. We merely note it. This is a way to start controlling the
mind, tying awareness to these points at the beginning, middle, and end of the
inhalations and exhalations.
Before we begin, we should sit and let the mind relax first. It’s similar to
doing something like sewing on a machine. When we are learning to use the
sewing machine, first we just sit in front of the machine to get familiar with
it and feel comfortable. Here, we just sit and breathe. Not fixing awareness
on anything, we merely take note that we are breathing. We take note of
whether the breath is relaxed or not and how long or short it is. Having
noticed this, then we begin focusing on the inhalation and exhalation at the
three points.
We practice like this until we become skilled in it and it is going smoothly.
Then the next stage is to focus awareness only on the sensation of the breath
at the tip of the nose or the upper lip. At this point we aren’t concerned
with whether the breath is long or short, but only focus on the sensation of
entering and exiting.
There may be different phenomena contacting the senses, or thoughts arising.
This is called initial thought (vitakka). It brings up some idea, be it about
the nature of compounded phenomena (sankhara), about the world, or whatever.
Once the mind has brought it up, the mind will want to get involved and merge
with it. If it’s an object that is wholesome, then let the mind take it up.
If it is something unwholesome, stop it immediately. If it is something
wholesome, then let the mind contemplate on it, and gladness, satisfaction,
and happiness will come about. The mind will be bright and clear as the breath
goes in and out, these initial thoughts appear, and the mind takes them up.
Then it becomes discursive thought (vicara). The mind develops familiarity
with the object, exerting itself and merging with it. At this point, there is
no sleepiness.
After an appropriate period of this, take your attention back to the breath.
Then as you continue on, there will be the initial thought and discursive
thought, initial thought and discursive thought. If you are contemplating
skillfully on an object such as the nature of sankhara, then the mind will
experience deeper tranquility, and rapture is born. There is the vitakka and
vicara, and that leads to happiness of mind. At this time, there won’t be
any dullness or drowsiness. The mind won’t be dark if we practice like this.
It will be gladdened and enraptured.
This rapture will start to diminish and disappear after a while, so you can
take up the initial thought again. The mind will become firm and certain with
it, undistracted. Then you go on to discursive thought again, the mind
becoming one with it. When you are practicing a meditation that suits your
temperament and doing it well, then whenever you take up the object, rapture
will come about, the hairs of the body standing on end, the mind enraptured
and satiated.
When it’s like this, there can’t be any dullness or drowsiness. You
won’t have any doubts. Back and forth between initial and discursive
thought, initial and discursive thought, over and over again, and rapture
comes. Then there is bliss (sukha).
This takes place in sitting practice. After sitting for a while, you can get
up and do walking meditation. The mind can be the same in the walking. Not
sleepy, it has the vitakka and vicara, vitakka and vicara, then rapture. There
won’t be any of the hindrances (nivarana: desire, anger, restlessness and
agitation, sloth and torpor, doubt), and the mind will be unstained. Whatever
takes place, never mind; you don’t need to doubt about any experiences you
may have, be they of light, of bliss, or whatever. Don’t entertain doubts
about these conditions of mind. If the mind is dark, if the mind is illumined,
don’t fixate on these conditions, don’t be attached to them. Let go,
discard them. Keep walking, keep noting what is taking place, without getting
bound or infatuated. Don’t suffer over these conditions of mind. Don’t
have doubts about them. They are just what they are, following the way of
mental phenomena. Sometimes the mind will be joyful. Sometimes it will be
sorrowful. There can be happiness or suffering, there can be obstruction.
Rather than doubting, understand that conditions of mind are like this, and
that whatever manifests is coming about due to causes ripening. At this
moment, this condition is manifesting—that’s what you should recognize.
Even if the mind is dark, you don’t need to be upset over that. If it
becomes bright, don’t be excessively gladdened by that. Don’t have doubts
about these conditions of mind, or about your reactions to them.
Do your walking meditation until you are really tired, then sit. When you sit,
determine your mind to do it; don’t just be playing around. If you get
sleepy, open your eyes and focus on some object. Walk until the mind separates
itself from thoughts and is still, then sit. If you are clear and awake, you
can close your eyes. If you get sleepy again, open your eyes and look at an
object.
Don’t try to do this all day and all night. When you’re in need of sleep,
let yourself sleep. Just as with our food: once a day we eat. The time comes,
and we give food to the body. The need for sleep is the same. When the time
comes, give it some rest. When you’ve had an appropriate rest, get up.
Don’t let the mind languish in dullness, but get up and get to work--start
practicing. Do a lot of walking meditation. If you walk slowly and the mind
becomes dull, then walk fast. Learn to find the right pace for yourself.
Q:
Are vitakka and vicara the same?
AC:
You’re sitting and suddenly the thought of someone pops into your
head—that’s vitaka, the initial thought. Then you take that idea of the
person and start thinking about them (in detail). Vitakka is picking it up,
vicara is investigating it. For example, we pick up the idea of death, and
then we start considering it: “I will die, others will die, every living
being will die, when they die where will they go…? “ Then, stop! Stop and
bring it up again. When it gets running like that, stop it again, then go back
to mindfulness of the breath. Sometimes the discursive thought will wander off
and not come back, so you have to stop it. Keep at it until the mind is bright
and clear.
If you practice vicara with an object that you are suited to, you may
experience the hairs of your body standing on end, tears pouring from your
eyes, a state of extreme delight, many different things as rapture comes.
Q:
Can this happen with any kind of thinking, or is it in a state of tranquility
that it happens?
AC:
It’s when the mind is tranquil. It’s not ordinary mental proliferation.
You sit with a calm mind and then the initial thought comes. For example, I
think of my brother who just passed away. Or I might think of some other
relatives. This is when the mind is tranquil—the tranquility isn’t
something certain, but for the moment the mind is tranquil. After this initial
thought comes, then I go into discursive thought. If it’s a line of thinking
that’s skillful and wholesome, it leads to ease of mind and happiness, and
then there is rapture, with its attendant experiences. This rapture came from
the initial and discursive thinking that took place in a state of calmness. We
don’t have to give it names such as first jhana, second jhana, and so forth.
We just call it tranquility.
The next factor is bliss (sukha). Eventually, we drop the initial and
discursive thinking as tranquility deepens. Why is that? The state of mind is
becoming more refined and subtle. Vitakka and vicara are relatively coarse,
and they will vanish. There will remain just the rapture, accompanied by bliss
and one-pointedness of mind. And when it reaches full measure, there won’t
be anything—(there is equanimity, and) the mind is empty. That’s
absorption concentration.
We don’t need to fixate or dwell on any of these experiences. They will
naturally progress from one to the next. At first there are initial and
discursive thought, rapture, bliss, and one-pointedness. Then initial and
discursive thinking are thrown off, leaving rapture, bliss, and one-pointedness.
Rapture is thrown off (note: scriptures usually say, “with the fading of
rapture…”), then bliss, and finally only one-pointedness and equanimity
remain. It means the mind is becoming more and more tranquil, and its objects
are steadily decreasing, until there is nothing but one-pointedness and
equanimity.
When the mind is tranquil and focused, this can happen. It is the power of
mind, the state of the mind that has attained tranquility. When it’s like
this, there won’t be any sleepiness. It can’t enter the mind; it will
disappear. And the other hindrances of sensual desire, aversion, doubt, and
restlessness and agitation won’t be present. Though they may still exist
(latent) in the mind of the meditator, they won’t occur at this time.
Q:
Should we be closing our eyes so as to shut out the external environment, or
should we just deal with things as we see them? Is it important whether we
open or close the eyes?
AC:
When we are training newly, it’s important to avoid too much sensory input,
so it’s better to close the eyes. Not seeing objects that can distract and
affect us, we build up the mind’s strength. When the mind is strong, then we
can open the eyes, and whatever we see won’t sway us. Open or closed won’t
matter.
When you rest, you normally close your eyes. Sitting in meditation with eyes
closed is the dwelling place for a practitioner. We find enjoyment and rest in
it. This is an important fundamental for us. But when we can’t close our
eyes, will we be able to deal with things? We sit with eyes closed and we
profit from that. When we open our eyes (and leave the formal meditation), we
can handle whatever we meet. Things won’t get out of hand—we won’t be at
a loss. But basically we are just handling things. It’s when we go back to
our sitting that we really develop greater wisdom.
This
is how we develop the practice. When it reaches fulfillment, then it doesn’t
matter whether we open or close our eyes, it will be the same. The mind
won’t change or deviate. At all times of the day, morning, noon, or night,
the state of mind will be the same. We dwell thus. There is nothing that can
shake the mind. When happiness arises, we recognize, “It’s not certain,”
and it passes. Unhappiness arises and we recognize, “It’s not certain,”
and that’s that. You get the idea that you want to disrobe—this is not
certain. But you think it’s certain. Before you wanted to ordain, and you
were so sure about that. Now you are sure you want to disrobe. It’s all
uncertain, but you don’t see it because of your darkness of mind. Your mind
is telling you lies: “being here, I’m only wasting time.” If you disrobe
and go back to the world, won’t you waste time there? You don’t think
about that. Disrobing to work in the fields and gardens, to grow beans or
raise pigs and goats, won’t that be a waste of time?
There was once a large pond full of fish. As time passed, the rainfall
decreased and the pond became shallow. One day a bird showed up at the edge of
the pond. He told the fish, “I really feel sorry for you fish. Here you
barely have enough water to keep your backs wet. Do you know that not very far
from here there’s a big lake, several meters deep, where the fish swim
happily?”
When the fish in that shallow pond heard this, they got excited. They said to
the bird, “It sounds good. But how could we get there?”
The bird said, “No problem. I can carry you in my bill, one at a time.”
The fish discussed it among themselves. “It’s not so great here anymore.
The water doesn’t even cover our heads. We ought to go.” So they lined up
to be taken by the bird.
The bird took one fish at a time. As soon as he got out of sight of the pond,
he landed and ate the fish. Then he would return to the pond and tell them,
“Your friend is right this moment swimming happily in the lake, and he asks
when you will be joining him!”
It sounded fantastic to the fish. They couldn’t wait to go, and they started
pushing to get to the head of the line.
The bird finished off the fish like that. He went back to the pond to see if
he could find any more. There was only one crab there. The bird started his
sales pitch about the lake.
The crab was skeptical. He asked the bird how he could get there. The bird
told him he would carry him in his bill. But this crab had some wisdom. He
told the bird, “Let’s do it like this: I’ll sit on your back, with my
arms around your neck. If you try any tricks, I’ll choke you with my
claws.”
The bird felt frustrated by this, but he gave it a try, thinking he might
still somehow get to eat the crab. So the crab got on his back, and they took
off.
The bird flew around, looking for a good place to land. But as soon as he
tried to descend, the crab started squeezing his throat with his claws. The
bird couldn’t even cry out—he just made a dry, croaking sound. So in the
end he had to give up and return the crab to the pond.
I hope you can have the wisdom of the crab! If you are like those fish, you
will listen to the voices that tell you how wonderful everything will be if
you go back to the world. That’s an obstacle ordained people meet with.
Please be careful about this.
Q:
Why is it that unpleasant states of mind are difficult to see clearly, while
pleasant states are easy to see? When I experience happiness or pleasure, I
can see that it’s something impermanent, but when I’m unhappy, that’s
harder to see.
AC:
You are thinking in terms of your attraction and aversion and trying to figure
it out, but actually, delusion is the predominant root. You feel that
unhappiness is hard to see while happiness is easy to see. That’s just the
way your afflictions work: Aversion is hard to let go of, right? It’s a
strong feeling. Happiness is easy to let go of. It’s not really easy; it’s
just that it’s not so overpowering. Pleasure and happiness are things people
like and feel comfortable with—they’re not so easy to let go of. Aversion
is painful, but people don’t know how to let go of it. The truth is that
they are equal. When you contemplate thoroughly and get to the point, you will
quickly recognize that they’re equal. If you had a scale to weigh them,
their weight would be the same. But we incline towards the pleasurable.
So are you saying that you can let go of happiness easily, while unhappiness
is difficult to let go of? And you think that the things we like are easy to
give up, but you’re wondering why the things we dislike are hard to give
up—but if they’re not good, why are they hard to give up? It’s not like
that. Think anew—they are completely equal. It’s just that we don’t
incline to them equally. When there is unhappiness, we feel bothered, and we
want it to go away quickly, so we feel it’s hard to get rid of. Happiness
doesn’t usually bother us, so we are friends with it and we feel we can let
go of it easily. It’s not like that; it’s not oppressing and squeezing our
hearts, that’s all. Unhappiness oppresses us. We think one has more value or
weight than the other, but in truth they are equal. It’s like heat and cold.
We can be burned to death by fire. We can also be frozen stiff by cold, and we
die just the same. Neither is greater than the other. Happiness and suffering
are like this, but in our thinking we give them different value.
Or take praise and criticism. Do you feel that praise is easy to let go of,
and criticism is hard to let go of? They really are equal. But when we are
praised, we don’t feel disturbed; we are pleased, but it’s not a sharp
feeling. Criticism is painful, so we feel it’s hard to let go of. Being
pleased is also hard to let go of, but we are partial to it so we don’t have
the same desire to get rid of it quickly. The delight we take in being praised
and the sting we feel when criticized are equal. They are the same. But when
our minds meet these things, we have unequal reactions to them. We don’t
mind being close to some of them.
Please understand this. In our meditation we will meet with the arising of all
sorts of mental afflictions. The correct outlook is to be ready to let go of
all of it, whether pleasant or painful. Even though happiness is something we
desire and suffering is something we don’t desire, we recognize they are of
equal value. These are things that we will experience.
Happiness is wished for by people in the world. Suffering is not wished for.
Nirvana is something beyond wishing or not wishing. Do you understand? There
is no wishing involved in Nirvana. Wanting to get happiness, wanting to be
free of suffering, wanting to transcend happiness and suffering—there are
none of these things. It is peace.
As I see it, realizing the truth doesn’t happen by relying on others. You
should understand that all doubts will be resolved by our own efforts, by
continuous, energetic practice. We won’t get free of doubt by asking others.
We will end doubt through our own unrelenting efforts.
Remember this! It’s an important principle in practice. The actual doing is
what will instruct you. You will come to know all right and wrong. “The
Brahmin shall reach the exhaustion of doubt through unceasing practice.”
Wherever we go, it doesn’t matter--everything can still be resolved through
our own ceaseless efforts. But we can’t stick with it. We can’t bear the
difficulties we meet, and we find it hard to face up to our suffering and not
try to run away from it. If we do face it and bear with it, then we gain
knowledge, and the practice starts instructing us automatically, teaching us
about right and wrong and the way things really are. If our thinking is wrong,
our practice will show us the fault and ill result of that of itself. It
really happens like this. But it’s hard to find people who can see it
through. Everyone wants instant awakening. Rushing here and there following
your impulses, you only end up worse off for it. Be careful about this.
I’ve
often taught that tranquility is stillness; flowing is wisdom. It means that
we practice meditation to calm the mind and make it still; then it can flow.
In the beginning, we learn what still water is like and what flowing water is
like. After practicing for a while we will see how these two support each
other. We have to make the mind calm, like still water. Then it flows. Both
being still and flowing: this is something not easy to contemplate.
We can understand that still water doesn’t flow. We can understand that
flowing water isn’t still. But when we practice we take hold of both of
these. The mind of a true practitioner is like still water that flows, or
flowing water that’s still. Whatever takes place in the mind of a Dharma
practitioner is like flowing water that is still. To say that it is only
flowing is not correct. Only still is not correct. But ordinarily, still water
is still, and flowing water flows. But when we have experience of practice,
our minds will be in this condition of flowing water that is still.
This is something we’ve never seen. When we see flowing water, it is just
flowing along. When we see still water, it doesn’t flow. But within our
minds, it will really be like this—like flowing water that is still. In our
Dharma practice we have samadhi, or tranquility, and wisdom mixed together. We
have morality, meditation, and wisdom. Then wherever we sit, the mind is
still, and it flows. Still, flowing water. With meditative stability and
wisdom, tranquility and insight, it’s like this. The Dharma is like this. If
you have reached the Dharma, then at all times you will have this experience.
Being tranquil and having wisdom: Flowing, yet still. Still, yet flowing.
Whenever this occurs in the mind of one who practices, it is something
different and strange; it is different from the ordinary mind that one has
known all along. Before, when it was flowing, it flowed. When it was still, it
didn’t flow, but was only still--the mind can be compared to water in this
way. But now it has entered a condition that is like flowing water being
still. Whether standing, walking, sitting, or lying down, it is like water
that flows yet is still. Making our minds like this, there are both
tranquility and wisdom.
What is the purpose of tranquility? Why should we have wisdom? It is only for
the purpose of freeing ourselves from suffering (dukkha), nothing else. At
present we are suffering, living with dukkha, not understanding dukkha and
therefore holding onto it. But if the mind is as I’ve been speaking about,
then there will be many kinds of knowledge. One will know suffering, know the
cause of suffering, know the cessation of suffering, know the way of practice
to reach the end of suffering. These are the Noble Truths. They will appear of
themselves when there is still, flowing water.
When it is like this, then no matter what we are doing, we will have no
heedlessness; the habit of heedlessness will weaken and disappear. Whatever we
experience, we won’t fall into heedlessness, because the mind will naturally
hold fast to the practice. It will be afraid of losing the practice. As we
keep on practicing and learning from experience, we will be drinking of the
Dharma more and more, and our faith will keep increasing.
For one who practices, it has to be like this. We shouldn’t be the kind of
people who merely follow others: If our friends aren’t doing the practice,
we won’t do it either, because we would feel embarrassed. If they stop, we
stop. If they do it, we do it. If the teacher tells us to do something, we do
it. If he stops, we stop. This is not a very quick way to realization.
What’s the point of our training here? It’s so that when we are alone, we
will be able to continue with the practice. So now, while living together
here, when there are morning and evening gatherings to practice, we join in
and practice with the others. We build up the habit so that the way of
practice is internalized in our hearts, and then we will be able to live
anywhere and still practice in the same way.
It’s like having a certificate of guarantee. If the King is coming here, we
prepare everything as perfectly as we can. He stays a short while and then
goes on his way, but he gives his royal seal to acknowledge that things are in
order here. Now many of us are practicing together, and it’s the time to
learn the practice well, to understand it and internalize it so that each of
you can be a witness to yourself. It’s like children coming of age.
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