More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
Why is morality the basis for concentration, and how can we refine this understanding in our lives? As mentioned in earlier chapters, sīla is the cause for nonremorse, nonremorse the condition for happiness, happiness the cause for concentration, and concentration the condition for liberating wisdom. We can see how this cycle and its opposite play out in our practice. A common meditation experience is to relive memories of past wholesome and unwholesome actions. In remembering them, the former bring an ease and confidence of mind, a gladdening of the heart; the latter bring feelings of regret
...more
Now, for how we do breath meditation: The texts say to breathe in long and out long—heavy or light—and then to breathe in short and out short, again heavy or light. Those are the first steps of the training. After that we don’t have to focus on the length of the in-breath or out-breath. Instead, we simply gather our awareness at any one point of the breath, and keep this up until the mind settles down and is still. When the mind is still, you then focus on the stillness of the mind at the same time you’re aware of the breath. At this point you don’t focus directly on the breath. You focus on
...more
In any discussion of concentration, an important issue that arises is how to relate to the many thoughts that arise in the mind. There are different ways of working with thoughts, depending in part on whether we’re practicing a fixed-object concentration, aiming for full absorption, or engaging in momentary concentration, which develops one-pointedness on changing objects. In the first, as the name implies, the idea is to keep the mind steady on a fixed object, so anything else that arises is seen as a distraction. Here we either ignore or simply let go of whatever arises and come back again
...more
This highlight has been truncated due to consecutive passage length restrictions.
If we’re mindful as thoughts appear, and we see how they self-liberate in the moment of awareness, then there’s nothing more we need to do. However, we often get involved with thoughts and are carried away by their story. In this case, it’s helpful to look more carefully at their content, asking whether the thought is skillful or not, helpful or not.
Regarding thoughts, the question “Is it necessary?” can also be a powerful reminder of our intentions, aligning our efforts with our highest aspirations.
subtler impurities, such as being lost in worldly thoughts of family and friends, of reputation, of work. As laypeople living in the world, we do need to think about these things sometimes. But very often, we’re simply lost in a kind of unnoticed reverie about them, drifting along in habits of thought that may not be particularly unwholesome, but may be inappropriate or unnecessary for the task at hand. Are they necessary? Probably not.
lost in Dharma thoughts about our practice and different meditative states. These thoughts are so seductive precisely because they are about the Dharma. And as with worldly thoughts, there are times when conscious, mindful Dharma reflection can be a big help on the path. But when we’re simply lost in Dharma reveries or in judgments about our practice, they are not particularly helpful.
We might take as an example the famous cellist Pablo Casals, who still practiced three hours a day at age ninety-three. When asked why he still practiced that long, he said, “I’m beginning to see some improvement.”
Each of us is touched by what are called “the eight worldly vicissitudes.” These are the endlessly changing conditions of gain and loss, praise and blame, fame and disrepute, and pleasure and pain. When equanimity is developed, we ride these waves with balance and ease. Without it, we’re tossed about by the waves, often crashing into the changing circumstances of our lives.
If we have a calm, concentrated sitting, the thought might come, “Now I’ve got it”; we experience gain and expect it to stay. The next sitting or the next day, maybe the mind is filled with restlessness or boredom: loss. The thought comes, “What did I do wrong? How did I lose it?”
As a solid mass of rock Is not moved by the wind, So a sage is not moved by praise and blame.
For most of us, there is a deep conditioning in the mind to try to hold on to what is pleasant and to push away or avoid what is unpleasant. But it is precisely this conditioning that powers the rollercoaster of hope and fear. With increasing clarity and wisdom, we see that these changes are inevitable and that they are not mistakes. It’s not that pleasant feelings go away because we’ve done something wrong; it’s simply the nature of all conditioned things to change.
We don’t have to live defensively in the fear of the unexpected if we accept that anything can happen anytime. I have found this reminder amazingly helpful in accepting change with a deepening and easeful equanimity.
“Praise and blame, gain and loss, pleasure and sorrow come and go like the wind. To be happy, rest like a great tree in the midst of them all.”
Forego Attachment At one point, the Thai master Ajahn Chaa held up a cup in front of a group of his students. He said that the best way to relate to the cup is as if it is already broken. We use it and take care of it, but we remain unattached because we know it is subject to change. In the same way, there is a powerful teaching in the Bhagavad Gita, the great Hindu text, that says we should act without attachment to the fruit of the action. We can do what we do with full commitment, but the outcome is often beyond our control. When we act without attachment to the outcome, then our minds
...more
the value of an action is measured not by its success or failure, but by the motivation behind it. When our motivations are skillful, then we can abide in equanimity regardless of whether we succeed or fail in our endeavors.
“All beings are the heirs of their own karma. Their happiness or unhappiness depends on their actions, not upon my wishes.” As we repeat these phrases, first in regard to someone we feel neutral about and then successively in regard to a benefactor, a friend, a difficult person, and all beings, we are reminded where happiness truly lies. Although we may wish for people to be happy and at peace, that outcome will ultimately rest on their own actions.
(1) . . . ‘I am subject to old age; I am not exempt from old age.’ (2) . . . ‘I am subject to illness; I am not exempt from illness.’ (3) . . . ‘I am subject to death; I am not exempt from death.’ (4) . . . ‘I must be parted from everyone and everything dear and agreeable to me.’ (5) ‘I am the owner of my kamma, the heir of my kamma; I have kamma as my origin, kamma as my relative, kamma as my resort; I will be the heir of whatever kamma, good or bad, that I do.’”
what is subject to old age grows old. When this happens, one reflects thus: ‘I am not the only one for whom what is subject to old age grows old’ . . . (2) ‘I am not the only one for whom what is subject to illness grows ill’ . . . (3) ‘I am not the only one for whom what is subject to death dies’ . . . (4) ‘I am not the only one for whom what is subject to destruction is destroyed’ . . . (5) ‘I am not the only one for whom what is subject to loss is lost.’”7
the Buddhist equivalent of the second law of thermodynamics, which says that all systems uninfluenced by outside forces tend to disorder. This means that in order to sustain life, we need to keep introducing energy into the system. And still, in the end, entropy always prevails.
It’s interesting to see the deep-rooted persistence of even small desires for sense pleasures. A thought might come, “a cup of tea,” and, especially on retreat, we might simply note it. It comes again, and we note it. And again, until often, in the end, we are carried away and act on the desire. There is nothing wrong with a cup of tea; this is simply an exercise in learning about the power of desire in our minds and lives. These different patterns of craving, desire, wanting are so familiar to us that they just seem like the ordinary fabric of life.
notice the gratification that comes from different sense pleasures. It might be from very simple things like a hot shower, or the tastes of enjoyable food, or that moment when we first lie down at night after a busy day; or it might be the enjoyment of pleasant fantasies and the desire for them to continue. See what you become enamored of and the desire and craving that often follow.
We believe the experience of sense pleasures will bring us happiness because of the pleasant feelings that arise. And they do bring some happiness for a time. The problem is that pleasant feelings are very impermanent, sometimes momentarily so. They continually change and disappear.
when craving becomes a strong and powerful force in the mind, it can lead us to many unwholesome actions, creating more unskillful karma, which results in suffering. Craving plays a pivotal role in the teaching of dependent origination. Based on contact and feeling, whether pleasant or unpleasant, craving arises. Because of craving, clinging; because of clinging, becoming. And so the whole cycle—old results (feelings) causing new actions, which, in turn, bring new results—goes on. An idiomatic way of expressing these links might bring home just how common and familiar they are to us: “I want,
...more
Have you noticed any times of wanting and expectation in your meditation—wanting some new, imagined pleasurable experience to be happening, or a present one to remain, or an old one to return? The danger here is that expectation, the wanting itself, inevitably brings agitation. What makes this particular danger so seductive is that it often comes disguised as dharma aspiration. But these are two very different mind states. Aspirations inspire us, while expectations simply lead us into cycles of hope and fear: hope that what we want will happen; fear that it won’t.
The next time you feel frustrated or agitated in your practice, look to see if expectation is operative, and notice the craving behind it. Here struggle can become useful feedback. It’s telling us that something is arising in our experience that we’re not accepting. If we were accepting it, we wouldn’t be struggling. Nonacceptance is just another word for wanting — wanting something other than what is happening.
“Consciousness is not a thing that exists, but an event that occurs.”
look for the mind. Can you see it, taste it, touch it? When we look for it, there is nothing to find, and the not-finding is the finding. When we recognize that moment of not-finding, the mind’s empty, selfless nature is revealed.
When we look for the mind, there is nothing to find, and yet the capacity for knowing is there. In the not-finding, the mind is already pacified. This is more than a witty Zen story. We can apply this wisdom at any time during the day, and perhaps especially when our minds are anxious, seeing that the empty, aware nature is always there, already pacified.
Worldly right view very pragmatically acknowledges that for those of us who are not yet fully liberated, our wholesome actions are often in the realm of desire, of acquiring merit, of aiming for particular happy results in our lives. Even though these acts are wholesome (for example, acts of generosity), they may still be in the realm of acquisition — that is, making good karma for good results, rather than in the abandonment of desire. This aspect of right view is especially relevant for those of us who are laypeople, living our lives engaged with the world. It shows how we can live in the
...more
NOBLE RIGHT VIEW, WHICH LEADS onward to nibbāna, is described in two ways in the suttas. First, it is described as the wisdom factor of mind. It illuminates what arises so that we can know and understand things as they really are. The arising of wisdom is like turning on a light in a darkened room. In the Abhidhamma, the Buddhist psychology, wisdom is one of the twenty-five beautiful mental factors. Second, noble right view is described in terms of its objective content — that is, what wisdom discovers as it illuminates our experience. And in the Mahāsatipaṭṭhāna Sutta, the Buddha equates this
...more
Which Aggregate Is Predominant in the Moment Besides focusing on a particular aggregate for some time, we can also strengthen this aspect of right view by recognizing which of the aggregates is predominant in the moment, and by seeing the interplay and changing nature of them all. For example, you might be walking outside and feeling the sensation of the movement of walking. This is mindfulness of the material elements. Then you feel the warmth of the sun or a cold blast of wind. The warmth and cold are also physical elements. But then the feeling of pleasant or unpleasant may become
...more
THE THREE DISTORTIONS OF EXPERIENCE There are three distortions of experience that can occur. The first is distortion of perception; the second, distortion of mind; and the third, distortion of view. The first is when we simply mistake one thing for another. We might be walking in the woods, see a stick lying on the path, and mistake it for a snake. This kind of distortion is easily remedied by a closer investigation of the experience. Distortions of mind occur when we think and ruminate about our mistaken perceptions. We see the stick, take it to be a snake, and then, thinking about all the
...more
This highlight has been truncated due to consecutive passage length restrictions.
The more often a particular thought arises in the mind, the more likely that it will arise again: “Bhikkhus, whatever a bhikkhu frequently thinks and ponders upon, that will become the inclination of the mind.”1 Given that our actions are conditioned by how we think about ourselves and the world, and that wholesome and unwholesome actions bring their respective results, we can begin to recognize the pivotal role right thought plays on our path.
But a more accurate and liberating understanding of renunciation would be as the experience of nonaddiction. We all know the suffering bound up with addictions, whatever they might be. We might be addicted, in one way or another, to food, drugs, sex, alcohol, or perhaps more unnoticed, to work, power, recognition, wealth, or even comfort. We can become addicted to and entranced by certain mind states and emotions, like excitement or intensity or fear—witness the very big audience for terrifying horror movies.
We become addicted not only to the gratification of our wants, but also to the mental habit of wanting itself. There’s a phenomenon I call “catalogue consciousness.” Have you ever found yourself casually opening a catalogue that comes in the mail and turning the pages, just waiting for something to want. It’s rare that we put down the catalogue halfway through. We love to want, and we love the anticipation of fulfilling a want.
Meditators can also get addicted to different meditative states, like rapture or calm. How often in our practice are we trying to recreate some experience we’ve had before? We can get addicted to investigation; we can become overly fascinated with everything we’re discovering. At one point in my practice in Burma, when I had been there for several months, the mindfulness had become very sharp, and I was seeing extremely minute details about what was arising. When I reported this to Sayadaw U Paṇḍita, thinking that things were going very well, all he said to me was, “You’re too attached to
...more
This highlight has been truncated due to consecutive passage length restrictions.
We become quite firmly enmeshed in the force field of our desires, usually not even suspecting that we’re entrapped. We might look at all our habitual actions during the day. Although we probably don’t think of them as addictions, how easy would it be to let go of a strong habit?
We can practice developing a wise restraint, where we settle back and allow the desires to arise and pass away without feeling the need or compulsion to act on them. In this practice of renunciation, we can taste for ourselves that there is greater ease in not wanting than in wanting.
Change Habit Patterns We can examine various habits and simply change the routine. See what it’s like to drink green tea instead of black, to get up fifteen minutes earlier than usual, to check email one time less a day. We can practice renouncing complexity.
we can practice the wisdom of no even in small things. One of the practices that Sayadaw U Tejaniya suggests with regard to thoughts and desires is asking the questions, “Is this necessary?” and “Is this helpful?” Often something is not, and we can practice letting it go. “No, I don’t need to do this.” “No, I don’t need to carry on with this thought.”
Once the realization is accepted that even between the closest people infinite distances exist, a marvelous living side-by-side can grow up for them, if they succeed in loving the expanse between them, which gives them the possibility of always seeing each other as a whole and before an immense sky.1
mettā is not dependent on external conditions, on people, on ourselves, being a certain way. For this reason, mettā doesn’t easily turn into disappointment, ill will, or jealousy, as love with desire and attachment so often does.
There is great purity and a quiet happiness in moments of genuine mettā, because those moments are not mixed with anything harmful, either to oneself or others. The only wish is for all to be happy, to be free of enmity and hatred, to be at peace.
The Benefits of Mettā Practice As these feelings of goodwill and kindness soften us, our minds and hearts become smooth, gentle, more pliable. Because of this softening, there is a lessening of our many reactive judgments and comments, about ourselves as well as others. We become more patient and caring with difficulties and disturbances. As we’re less reactive, not so caught up in immediate likes and dislikes, there is more space for discerning wisdom. We can then see more clearly what is truly skillful and unskillful in our lives, and so we make wiser choices. This, in turn, leads to more
...more
As mettā grows stronger and steadier, we feel more tolerant of ourselves and others, a little less judgmental. Gradually we start to live in a growing field of goodwill and good humor, holding ourselves and others with a lighter heart.
are we practicing with one eye on what we’re getting from it? At times in my practice I would be repeating the phrases, but always watching, checking, “Am I getting more concentrated? Am I getting more loving?” At these times, I was concerned with how I was feeling and forgetting the simplicity and purity of the wish for someone’s happiness. In yet another way, we can mingle various motivations. We might be saying the mettā phrases, but the underlying motivation is, “May you be free of all those annoying qualities that make me feel aversion,” again forgetting that how we feel is up to us.
I would like to pass on one little bit of advice I give to everyone. Relax, just relax. Be nice to each other. As you go through life, simply be kind to people. Try to help them rather than hurt them. Try to get along with them, rather than fall out with them. With that, I will leave you, and with all my very best wishes.3
The proximate cause for lovingkindness to arise is focusing on the good qualities in people, whether others or ourselves. We’re all a package of different qualities, some desirable, some not. When we don’t see the good in people and focus instead on their annoying, irritating qualities, it’s easy for ill will, judgments, anger, and even hatred to arise. But if we make it a practice to seek out and relate to the good in each person, then the feeling of lovingkindness grows quite naturally.
In a truly loving relationship—which I have experienced — rather than drawing the one I love to me I give myself to him . . . Not merely do I prefer to do him good than to have him do good to me, I would even prefer that he did good to himself rather than to me: it is when he does good to himself that he does most good to me. If his absence is either pleasant or useful to him, then it delights me far more than his presence.4
