A TASTE OF FREEDOM
Copyright 1991 The Sangha Bung Wai Forest Monastery
All commercial rights reserved.
Any reproduction, in whole or part, in any form,
for sale, profit or material gain, is prohibited.
However, copies of this book, or permission to reprint
for free distribution, may be obtained upon notification.
Wat Pah Nanachat
Warinchumrab, Ubolrajadhani 34110, Thailand
1st. published -- 1980
2nd. impression (revised) -- 1982
3rd. impression (revised) -- 1991
* * *
DharmaNet Edition 1995
Transcription: David Savage
Proofreading: Jane Yudelman
Formatting: John Bullitt
This electronic edition is offered for free distribution
via DharmaNet by arrangement with the author.
P.O. Box 4951, Berkeley CA 94704-4951
* * * * * * * *
About this Mind
The Path in Harmony
The Middle Way Within
The Peace Beyond
Opening the Dhamma eye
Convention and Liberation
Right View -- The Place of Coolness
Notes on Selected Talks
About the Author
* * * * * * * *
The production manager would like to thank Venerable Ajahn Puriso, the
translator, who kindly not only revised the text for this edition, but
also helped with the final proof reading.
This book has come into existence with the help of many devoted
people. Khun Vanee Lamsam, along with her brother Khun Parl Na
Pombejra, raised the Fund to support all costs of publication. Khun
Thanu Malakul Na Ayudhaya supplied us a slide of his beautiful
painting for the cover. Khun Panya Vijinthanasarn helped with the
cover design and illustrations. Khun Chutima Thanapura helped with the
first proof-reading. Khun Pansak Panpak-deeddisakul supplied us an
invaluable photograph of Luang Por Chah (Phra Bodhinyana Thera). Khun
Karoon Hansachainand helped with the pasting some parts of the artwork
and saw the book through the press. May the kind meritorious deeds of
the above-mentioned people help them experience the supreme bliss,
* * * * * * * *
The talks translated in this book were all taken from old cassette
tape recordings of Venerable Ajahn Chah, some in Thai and some in the
North-Eastern dialect, most recorded on poor quality equipment under
less than optimum conditions. This presented some difficulty in the
work of translation, which was overcome by occasionally omitting very
unclear passages and at other times asking for advice from other
listeners more familiar with those languages. Nevertheless there has
inevitably been some editing in the process of making this book. Apart
from the difficulties presented by the lack of clarity of the tapes,
there is also the necessity of editing when one is taking words from
the spoken to the written medium. For this, the translator takes full
Pali words have occasionally been left as they are, in other cases
translated. The criteria here has been readability. Those Pali words
which were considered short enough or familiar enough to the reader
already conversant with Buddhist terminology have generally been left
untranslated. This should present no difficulty, as they are generally
explained by the Venerable Ajahn in the course of the talk. Longer
words, or words considered to be probably unfamiliar to the average
reader, have been translated. Of these, there are two which are
particularly noteworthy. They are //Kamasukhallikanuyogo// and
//Attakilamathanuyogo//, which have been translated as Indulgence in
Pleasure and Indulgence in Pain respectively. These two words occur in
no less than five of the talks included in this book and although the
translations provided here are not those generally used for these
word, they are nevertheless in keeping with the Venerable Ajahn's use
Venerable Ajahn Chah always gave his talks in simple, everyday
language. His objective was to clarify the //Dhamma//, not to confuse
his listeners with an overlog of information. Consequently the talks
presented here have been rendered into correspondingly simple English.
The aim has been to present Ajahn Chah's teaching in both the spirit
and the letter.
In this third printing of //A Taste of Freedom//, a number of
corrections have been made to clumsily worded passages, of which there
are now hopefully less than in the first editions. For such
inadequacies the translator must also take responsibility, and hopes
the reader will bear with any literary shortcomings in order to
receive the full benefit of the teachings contained herein.
* * *
About this Mind...
About this mind... In truth there is nothing really wrong with it. It
is intrinsically pure. Within itself it's already peaceful. That the
mind is not peaceful these days is because it follows moods. The real
mind doesn't have anything to it, it is simply (an aspect of) Nature.
It becomes peaceful or agitated because moods deceive it. The
untrained mind is stupid. Sense impressions come and trick it into
happiness, suffering, gladness and sorrow, but the mind's true nature
is none of those things. That gladness or sadness is not the mind, but
only a mood coming to deceive us. The untrained mind gets lost and
follows these things, it forgets itself. Then we think that it is we
who are upset or at ease or whatever.
But really this mind of ours is already unmoving and peaceful...
really peaceful! Just like a leaf which is still as long as no wind
blows. If a wind comes up the leaf flutters. The fluttering is due to
the wind -- the "fluttering" is due to those sense impressions; the
mind follows them. If it doesn't follow them, it doesn't "flutter." If
we know fully the true nature of sense impressions we will be unmoved.
Our practice is simply to see the Original Mind. So we must train
the mind to know those sense impressions, and not get lost in them. To
make it peaceful. Just this is the aim of all this difficult practice
we put ourselves through.
* * *
"... That which "looks over" the various factors which arise in
meditation is 'sati', mindfulness. Sati is life. Whenever we
don't have sati, when we are heedless, it's as if we are dead...
This sati is simply presence of mind. It's cause for the arising
of self-awareness and wisdom... Even when we are no longer in
samadhi, sati should be present throughout..."
* * *
To calm the mind means to find the right balance. If you try to force
your mind too much it goes too far; if you don't try enough it doesn't
get there, it misses the point of balance.
Normally the mind isn't still, it's moving all the time, it lacks
strength. Making the mind strong and making the body strong are not
the same. To make the body strong we have to exercise it, to push it,
in order to make it strong, but to make the mind strong means to make
it peaceful, not to go thinking of this and that. For most of us the
mind has never been peaceful, it has never had the energy of
//samadhi//, [*] so we establish it within a boundary. We sit in
meditation, staying with the //One who knows//.
[*] //Samadhi// is the state of concentrated calm resulting from
If we force our breath to be too long or too short we're not
balanced, the mind won't become peaceful. It's like when we first
start to use a pedal sewing machine. At first we just practice
pedaling the machine to get our co-ordination right, before we
actually sew anything. Following the breath is similar. We don't get
concerned over how long or short, weak or strong it is, we just note
it. We simply let it be, following the natural breathing.
When it's balanced, we take the breathing as our meditation object.
When we breathe in, the beginning of the breath is at the nose tip,
the middle of the breath at the chest and the end of the breath at the
abdomen. This is the path of the breath. When we breathe out, the
beginning of the breath is at the abdomen, the middle at the chest and
the end at the nose tip. We simply take note of this path of the
breath at the nose tip, the chest and the abdomen, then at the
abdomen, the chest and the tip of the nose. We take note of these
three points in order to make the mind firm, to limit mental activity
so that mindfulness and self-awareness can easily arise.
When we are adept at noting these three points we can let them go
and note the in and out breathing, concentrating solely at the
nose-tip or the upper lip where the air passes on its in and out
passage. We don't have to follow the breath, just establish
mindfulness in front of us at the nose-tip, and note the breath at
this one point -- entering, leaving, entering, leaving. There's no
need to think of anything special, just concentrate on this simple
task for now, having continuous presence of mind. There's nothing more
to do, just breathing in and out.
Soon the mind becomes peaceful, the breath refined. The mind and
body become light. This is the right state for the work of meditation.
When sitting in meditation the mind becomes refined, but whatever
state it's in we should try to be aware of it, to know it. Mental
activity is there together with tranquility. There is //vitakka//.
//Vitakka// is the action of bringing the mind to the theme of
contemplation. If there is not much mindfulness, there will be not
much //vitakka//. Then //vicara//, the contemplation around that
theme, follows. Various "weak" mental impressions may arise from time
to time but our self-awareness is the important thing -- whatever may
be happening we know it continuously. As we go deeper we are
constantly aware of the state of our meditation, knowing whether or
not the mind is firmly established. Thus, both concentration and
awareness are present.
To have a peaceful mind does not mean that there's nothing
happening, mental impressions do arise. For instance, when we talk
about the first level of absorption, we say it has five factors. Along
with //vitakka// and //vicara//, //piti// (rapture) arises with the
theme of contemplation and then //sukha// (happiness). These four
things all lie together in the mind established in tranquility. They
are as one state.
The fifth factor is //ekaggata// or one-pointedness. You may wonder
how there can be one-pointedness when there are all these other
factors as well. This is because they all become unified on that
foundation of tranquility. Together they are called a state of
//samadhi//. They are not everyday states of mind, they are factors of
absorption. There are these five characteristics, but they do not
disturb the basic tranquility. There is //vitakka//, but it does not
disturb the mind; //vicara//, rapture and happiness arise but do not
disturb the mind. The mind is therefore as one with these factors. The
first level of absorption is like this.
We don't have to call it First //Jhana//, [*] Second //Jhana//,
third //Jhana// and so on, let's just call it "a peaceful mind." As
the mind becomes progressively calmer it will dispense with
//vitakka// and //vicara//, leaving only rapture and happiness. Why
does the mind discard //vitakka// and //vicara//? This is because, as
the mind becomes more refined, the activity of //vitakka// and
//vicara// is too coarse to remain. At this stage, as the mind leaves
off //vitakka// and //vicara//, feelings of great rapture can arise,
tears may gush out. But as the //samadhi// deepens rapture, too, is
discarded, leaving only happiness and one-pointedness, until finally
even happiness goes and the mind reaches its greatest refinement.
There are only equanimity and one-pointedness, all else has been left
behind. The mind stands unmoving.
[*] Jhana is an advanced state of concentration or //samadhi//,
wherein the mind becomes absorbed into its meditation
subject. It is divided into four levels, each level
progressively more refined than the previous one.
Once the mind is peaceful this can happen. You don't have to think a
lot about it, it just happens by itself. This is called the energy of
a peaceful mind. In this state the mind is not drowsy; the five
hindrances, sense desire, aversion, restlessness, dullness and doubt,
have all fled.
But if mental energy is still not strong and mindfulness weak, there
will occasionally arise intruding mental impressions. The mind is
peaceful but it's as if there's a "cloudiness" within the calm. It's
not a normal sort of drowsiness though, some impressions will manifest
-- maybe we'll hear a sound or see a dog or something. It's not really
clear but it's not a dream either. This is because these five factors
have become unbalanced and weak.
The mind tends to play tricks within these levels of tranquility.
"Imagery" will sometimes arise when the mind is in this state, through
any of the senses, and the meditator may not be able to tell exactly
what is happening. "Am I sleeping? No. Is it a dream? No, it's not a
dream..." These impressions arise from a middling sort of
tranquility; but if the mind is truly calm and clear we don't doubt
the various mental impressions or imagery which arise. Questions like,
"Did I drift off then? Was I sleeping? did I get lost?..." don't
arise, for they are characteristics of a mind which is still doubting.
"Am I asleep or awake?"... Here, it's fuzzy! This is the mind getting
lost in its moods. It's like the moon going behind a cloud. You can
still see the moon but the clouds covering it render it hazy. It's not
like the moon which has emerged from behind the clouds -- clear, sharp
When the mind is peaceful and established firmly in mindfulness and
self-awareness, there will be no doubt concerning the various
phenomena which we encounter. The mind will truly be beyond the
hindrances. We will clearly know as it is everything which arises in
the mind. We do not doubt it because the mind is clear and bright. The
mind which reaches //samadhi// is like this.
However some people find it hard to enter //samadhi// because it
doesn't suit their tendencies. There is //samadhi//, but it's not
strong or firm. But one can attain peace through the use of wisdom,
through contemplating and seeing the truth of things, solving problems
that way. This is using wisdom rather than the power of //samadhi//.
To attain calm in practice it's not necessary to sit in meditation,
for instance. Just ask yourself, "Ehh, what is that?..." and solve
your problem right there! A person with wisdom is like this. Perhaps
he can't really attain high levels of //samadhi//, although he
develops some, enough to cultivate wisdom. It's like the difference
between farming rice and farming corn. One can depend on rice more
than corn for one's livelihood. Our practice can be like this, we
depend more on wisdom to solve problems. When we see the truth, peace
The two ways are not the same. Some people have insight and are
strong in wisdom but do not have much //samadhi//. When they sit in
meditation they aren't very peaceful. They tend to think a lot,
contemplating this and that, until eventually they contemplate
happiness and suffering and see the truth of them. Some incline more
towards this than //samadhi//. Whether standing, walking, sitting or
lying, [*] enlightenment of the Dhamma can take place. Through seeing,
through relinquishing, they attain peace. They attain peace through
knowing the truth without doubt, because they have seen it for
[*] That is, at all times, in all activities.
Other people have only little wisdom but their //samadhi// is very
strong. They can enter very deep //samadhi// quickly, but not having
much wisdom, they cannot catch their defilements, they don't know
them. They can't solve their problems.
But regardless of whichever approach we use, we must do away with
wrong thinking, leaving only Right View. We must get rid of confusion,
leaving only peace. Either way we end up at the same place. There are
these two sides to practice, but these two things, calm and insight,
go together. We can't do away with either of them. They must go
That which "looks over" the various factors which arise in
meditation is 'sati', mindfulness. This //sati// is a condition which,
through practice, can help other factors to arise. //Sati// is life.
Whenever we don't have //sati//, when we are heedless, it's as if we
are dead. If we have no //sati//, then our speech and actions have no
meaning. This sati is simply recollection. It's a cause for the
arising of self-awareness and wisdom. Whatever virtues we have
cultivated are imperfect if lacking in //sati//. Sati is that which
watches over us while standing, walking, sitting and lying. Even when
we are no longer in //samadhi//, //sati// should be present
Whatever we do we take care. A sense of shame [*] will arise. We
will feel ashamed about the things we do which aren't correct. As
shame increases, our collectedness will increase as well. When
collectedness increases, heedlessness will disappear. Even if we don't
sit in meditation, these factors will be present in the mind.
[*] This is a "shame" based on knowledge of cause and effect,
rather than mere emotional guilt.
And this arises because of cultivating //sati//. Develop //sati//!
This is the dhamma which looks over the work we are doing or have done
in the past. It has usefulness. We should know ourselves at all times.
If we know ourselves like this, right will distinguish itself from
wrong, the path will become clear, and cause for all shame will
dissolve. Wisdom will arise.
We can bring the practice all together as morality, concentration
and wisdom. To be collected, to be controlled, this is morality. The
firm establishing of the mind within that control is concentration.
Complete, overall knowledge within the activity in which we are
engaged is wisdom. The practice in brief is just morality,
concentration and wisdom, or in other words, the path. There is no
* * *
"...With right samadhi, no matter what level of calm is reached,
there is awareness. There is full mindfulness and clear
comprehension. This is the samadhi which can give rise to
wisdom, one cannot get lost in it. Practitioners should
understand this well..."
* * *
The Path in Harmony
Today I would like to ask you all. "Are you sure yet, are you certain
in your meditation practice?" I ask because these days there are many
people teaching meditation, both monks and laypeople, and I'm afraid
you may be subject to wavering and doubt. If we understand clearly, we
will be able to make the mind peaceful and firm.
You should understand "the Eightfold Path" as morality,
concentration and wisdom. The path comes together as simply this. Our
practice is to make this path arise within us.
When sitting meditation we are told to close the eyes, not to look
at anything else, because now we are going to look directly at the
mind. When we close our eyes, our attention comes inwards. We
establish our attention on the breath, center our feelings there, put
our mindfulness there. When the factors of the path are in harmony we
will be able to see the breath, the feelings, the mind and its mood
for what they are. Here we will see the "focus point," where
//samadhi// and the other factors of the Path converge in harmony.
When we are sitting in meditation, following the breath, think to
yourself that now you are sitting alone. There is no-one sitting
around you, there is nothing at all. Develop this feeling that you are
sitting alone until the mind lets go of all externals, concentrating
solely on the breath. If you are thinking, "This person is sitting
over here, that person is sitting over there," there is no peace, the
mind doesn't come inwards. Just cast all that aside until you feel
there is no-one sitting around you, until there is nothing at all,
until you have no wavering or interest in your surroundings.
Let the breath go naturally, don't force it to be short or long or
whatever, just sit and watch it going in and out. When the mind lets
go of all external impressions, the sounds of cars and such will not
disturb you. Nothing, whether sights or sounds, will disturb you,
because the mind doesn't receive them. Your attention will come
together on the breath.
If the mind is confused and won't concentrate on the breath, take a
full, deep breath, as deep as you can, and then let it all out till
there is none left. Do this three times and then re-establish your
attention. The mind will become calm.
It's natural for it to be calm for a while, and then restlessness
and confusion may arise again. When this happens, concentrate, breathe
deeply again, and them re-establish your attention on the breath. Just
keep going like this. When this has happened many times you will
become adept at it, the mind will let go of all external
manifestations. External impressions will not reach the mind. //Sati//
will be firmly established. As the mind becomes more refined, so does
the breath. Feelings will become finer and finer, the body and mind
will be light. Our attention is solely on the inner, we see the
in-breaths and out-breaths clearly, we see all impressions clearly. We
will see the coming together of Morality, Concentration and Wisdom.
This is called the Path in harmony. When there is this harmony our
mind will be free of confusion, it will come together as one. This is
After watching the breath for a long time, it may become very
refined; the awareness of the breath will gradually cease, leaving
only bare awareness. The breath may become so refined it disappears!
Perhaps we are "just sitting," as if there is no breathing at all.
Actually there is breathing, but it seems as if there's none. This is
because the mind has reached its most refined state, there is just
bare awareness. It has gone beyond the breath. The knowledge that the
breath has disappeared becomes established. What will we take as our
object of meditation now? We take just this knowledge as our object,
that is, the awareness that there's no breath.
Unexpected things may happen at this time; some people experience
them, some don't. If they do arise, we should be firm and have strong
mindfulness. Some people see that the breath has disappeared and get a
fright, they're afraid they might die. Here we should know the
situation just as it is. We simply notice that there's no breath and
take that as our object of awareness. This, we can say, is the
firmest, surest type of //samadhi//. There is only one firm, unmoving
state of mind. Perhaps the body will become so light it's as if there
is no body at all. We feel like we're sitting in empty space, all
seems empty. Although this may seem very unusual, you should
understand that there's nothing to worry about. Firmly establish your
mind like this.
When the mind is firmly unified, having no sense impressions to
disturb it, one can remain in that state for any length of time. There
will be no painful feelings to disturb us. When //samadhi// has
reached this level, we can leave it when we choose, but if we come out
of this //samadhi// we do so comfortably, not because we've become
bored with it or tired. We come out because we've had enough for now,
we feel at ease, we have no problems at all.
If we can develop this type of samadhi, then if we sit, say, thirty
minutes or an hour, the mind will be cool and calm for many days. When
the mind is cool and calm like this, it is clean. Whatever we
experience, the mind will take up and investigate. This is a fruit of
Morality has one function, concentration has another function and
Wisdom another. These factors are like a cycle. We can see them all
within the peaceful mind. When the mind is calm it has collectedness
and restraint because of wisdom and the energy of concentration. As it
becomes more collected it becomes more refined, which in turn gives
morality the strength to increase in purity. As our morality becomes
purer, this will help in the development of concentration. When
concentration is firmly established it helps in the arising of wisdom.
Morality, concentration and wisdom help each other, they are
inter-related like this. In the end the Path becomes one and functions
at all times. We should look after the strength which arises from the
path, because it is the strength which leads to Insight and Wisdom.
* * *
On Dangers Of Samadhi
//Samadhi// is capable of bringing much harm or much benefit to the
meditator, you can't say it brings only one or the other. For one who
has no wisdom it is harmful, but for one who has wisdom it can bring
real benefit, it can lead him to Insight.
That which can be most harmful to the meditator is Absorption
//Samadhi// (//Jhana//), the //samadhi// with deep, sustained calm.
This samadhi brings great peace. Where there is peace, there is
happiness. When there is happiness, attachment and clinging to that
happiness arise. The meditator doesn't want to contemplate anything
else, he just wants to indulge in that pleasant feeling. When we have
been practicing for a long time we may become adept at entering this
//samadhi// very quickly. As soon as we start to note our meditation
object, the mind enters calm, and we don't want to come out to
investigate anything. We just get stuck on that happiness. This is a
danger to one who is practicing meditation.
We must use //Upacara Samadhi//. Here, we enter calm and then, when
the mind is sufficiently calm, we come out and look at outer activity.
[*] Looking at the outside with a calm mind gives rise to wisdom. This
is hard to understand, because it's almost like ordinary thinking and
imagining. When thinking is there, we may think the mind isn't
peaceful, but actually that thinking is taking place within the calm.
There is contemplation but it doesn't disturb the calm. We may bring
thinking up in order to contemplate it. Here we take up the thinking
to investigate it, it's not that we are aimlessly thinking to
investigate it, it's not that we are aimlessly thinking or guessing
away; it's something that arises from a peaceful mind. This is called
"awareness within calm and calm within awareness." If it's simply
ordinary thinking and imagining, the mind won't be peaceful, it will
be disturbed. But I am not talking about ordinary thinking, this is a
feeling that arises from the peaceful mind. It's called
"contemplation." Wisdom is born right here.
[*] "Outer activity" refers to all manner of sense impressions.
It is used in contrast to the "inner activity" of absorption
//samadhi// (//jhana//), where the mind does not "go out" to
external sense impressions.
So, there can be right //samadhi// and wrong //samadhi//. Wrong
//samadhi// is where the mind enters calm and there's no awareness at
all. One could sit for two hours or even all day but the mind doesn't
know where it's been or what's happened. It doesn't know anything.
There is calm, but that's all. It's like a well-sharpened knife which
we don't bother to put to any use. This is a deluded type of calm,
because there is not much self-awareness. The meditator may think he
has reached the ultimate already, so he doesn't bother to look for
anything else. //Samadhi// can be an enemy at this level. Wisdom
cannot arise because there is no awareness of right and wrong.
With right //samadhi//, no matter what level of calm is reached,
there is awareness. There is full mindfulness and clear comprehension.
This is the //samadhi// which can give rise to wisdom, one cannot get
lost in it. Practitioners should understand this well. You can't do
without this awareness, it must be present from beginning to end. This
kind of //samadhi// has no danger.
You may wonder where does the benefit arise, how does the wisdom
arise, from //samadhi//? When right //samadhi// has been developed,
wisdom has the chance to arise at all times. When the eye sees form,
the ear hears sound, the nose smells odor, the tongue experiences
taste, the body experiences touch or the mind experiences mental
impressions -- in all postures -- the mind stays with full knowledge
of the true nature of those sense impressions, it doesn't "pick and
choose." In any posture we are fully aware of the birth of happiness
and unhappiness. We let go of both of these things, we don't cling.
This is called Right Practice, which is present in all postures. These
words "all postures" do not refer only to bodily postures, they refer
to the mind, which has mindfulness and clear comprehension of the
truth at all times. When //samadhi// has been rightly developed,
wisdom arises like this. This is called "insight," knowledge of the
There are two kinds of peace -- the coarse and the refined. The
peace which comes from //samadhi// is the coarse type. When the mind
is peaceful there is happiness. The mind then takes this happiness to
be peace. But happiness and unhappiness are becoming and birth. There
is no escape from //samsara// [*] here because we still cling to them.
So happiness is not peace, peace is not happiness.
[*] //Samsara//, the wheel of Birth of Death, is the world of
all conditioned phenomena, mental and material, which has
the three-fold characteristic of Impermanence,
Unsatisfactoriness, and Not-self.
The other type of peace is that which comes from wisdom. Here we
don't confuse peace with happiness; we know the mind which
contemplates and knows happiness and unhappiness as peace. The peace
which arises from wisdom is not happiness, but is that which sees the
truth of both happiness and unhappiness. Clinging to those states does
not arise, the mind rises above them. This is the true goal of all
* * *
"...The Buddha laid down Morality, Concentration and Wisdom as
the Path to peace, the way to enlightenment. But in truth these
things are not the essence of Buddhism. They are merely the
Path...The essence of Buddhism is peace, and that peace arises
from truly knowing the nature of all things..."
* * *
The Middle Way Within
The teaching of Buddhism is about giving up evil and practicing good.
Then, when evil is given up and goodness is established, we must let
go of both good and evil. We have already heard enough about wholesome
and unwholesome conditions to understand something about them, so I
would like to talk about the Middle Way, that is, the path to escape
from both of those things.
All the Dhamma talks and teachings of the Buddha have one aim -- to
show the way out of suffering to those who have not yet escaped. The
teachings are for the purpose of giving us the right understanding. If
we don't understand rightly, then we can't arrive at peace.
When the various Buddhas became enlightened and gave their first
teachings, they all declared these two extremes -- indulgence in
pleasure and indulgence in pain. [*] These two ways are the ways of
infatuation, they are the ways between which those who indulge in
sense pleasures must fluctuate, never arriving at peace. They are the
paths which spin around in //samsara//.
[*] See Introduction.
The Enlightened One observed that all beings are stuck in these two
extremes, never seeing the Middle Way of Dhamma, so he pointed them
out in order to show the penalty involved in both. Because we are
still stuck, because we are still wanting, we live repeatedly under
their way. The Buddha declared that these two ways are the ways of
intoxication, they are not the way of a meditator, nor the ways to
peace. These ways are indulgence in pleasure and indulgence in pain,
or, to put it simply, the way of slackness and the way of tension. If
you investigate within, moment by moment, you will see that the tense
way is anger, the way of sorrow. Going this way there is only
difficulty and distress. Indulgence in Pleasure -- if you've escaped
from this, it means you've escaped from happiness. These ways, both
happiness and unhappiness, are not peaceful states. The Buddha taught
to let go of both of them. This is right practice. This is the Middle
These words, "the Middle Way," do not refer to our body and speech,
they refer to the mind. When a mental impression which we don't like
arises, it affects the mind and there is confusion. When the mind is
confused, when it's "shaken up," this is not the right way. When a
mental impression arises which we like, the mind goes to indulgence in
pleasure -- that's not the way either.
We people don't want suffering, we want happiness. But in fact
happiness is just a refined form of suffering. Suffering itself is the
coarse form. You can compare them to a snake. The head of the snake is
unhappiness, the tail of the snake is happiness. The head of the snake
is really dangerous, it has the poisonous fangs. If you touch it, the
snake will bite straight away. But never mind the head, even if you go
and hold onto the tail, it will turn around and bite you just the
same, because both the head and the tail belong to the one snake.
In the same way, both happiness and unhappiness, or pleasure and
sadness, arise from the same parent -- wanting. So when you're happy
the mind isn't peaceful. It really isn't! For instance, when we get
the things we like, such as wealth, prestige, praise or happiness, we
become pleased as a result. But the mind still harbors some
uneasiness because we're afraid of losing it. That very fear isn't a
peaceful state. Later on we may actually lose that thing and then we
really suffer. Thus, if you aren't aware, even if you're happy,
suffering is imminent. It's just the same as grabbing the snake's tail
-- if you don't let go it will bite. So whether it's the snake's tail
or its head, that is, wholesome or unwholesome conditions, they're all
just characteristics of the Wheel of Existence, of endless change.
The Buddha established morality, concentration and wisdom as the
path to peace, the way to enlightenment. But in truth these things are
not the essence of Buddhism. They are merely the path. The Buddha
called them "Magga," which means "path." The essence of Buddhism is
peace, and that peace arises from truly knowing the nature of all
things. If we investigate closely, we can see that peace is neither
happiness nor unhappiness. Neither of these is the truth.
The human mind, the mind which the Buddha exhorted us to know and
investigate, is something we can only know by its activity. The true
"original mind" has nothing to measure it by, there's nothing you can
know it by. In its natural state it is unshaken, unmoving. When
happiness arises all that happens is that this mind is getting lost in
a mental impression, there is movement. When the mind moves like this,
clinging and attachment to those things come into being.
The Buddha has already laid down the path of practice fully, but we
have not yet practiced, or if we have, we've practiced only in speech.
Our minds and our speech are not yet in harmony, we just indulge in
empty talk. But the basis of Buddhism is not something that can be
talked about or guessed at. The real basis of Buddhism is full
knowledge of the truth of reality. If one knows this truth then no
teaching is necessary. If one doesn't know, even if he listens to the
teaching, he doesn't really hear. This is why the Buddha said, "The
Enlightened One only points the way." He can't do the practice for
you, because the truth is something you cannot put into words or give
All the teachings are merely similes and comparisons, means to help
the mind see the truth. If we haven't seen the truth we must suffer.
For example, we commonly say "sankharas" [*] when referring to the
body. Anybody can say it, but in fact we have problems simply because
we don't know the truth of these //sankharas//, and thus cling to
them. Because we don't know the truth of the body, we suffer.
[*] In the Thai language the word "sungkahn," from the Pali word
//sankhara// (the name given to all conditioned phenomena), is a
commonly used term for the body. The Venerable Ajahn uses the
word in both ways.
Here is an example. Suppose one morning you're walking to work and a
man yells abuse and insults at you from across the street. As soon as
you hear this abuse your mind changes from its usual state. You don't
feel so good, you feel angry and hurt. That man walks around abusing
you night and day. When you hear the abuse, you get angry, and even
when you return home you're still angry because you feel vindictive,
you want to get even.
A few days later another man comes to your house and calls out,
"Hey! That man who abused you the other day, he's mad, he's crazy! Has
been for years! He abuses everybody like that. Nobody takes any notice
of anything he says." As soon as you hear this you are suddenly
relieved. That anger and hurt that you've pent up within you all these
days melts away completely. Why? Because you know the truth of the
matter now. Before, you didn't know, you thought that man was normal,
so you were angry at him. Understanding like that caused you to
suffer. As soon as you find out the truth, everything changes: "Oh,
he's mad! That explains everything!" When you understand this you feel
fine, because you know for yourself. Having known, then you can let
go. If you don't know the truth you cling right there. When you
thought that man who abused you was normal you could have killed him.
But when you find out the truth, that he's mad, you feel much better.
This is knowledge of the truth.
Someone who sees the Dhamma has a similar experience. When
attachment, aversion and delusion disappear, they disappear in the
same way. As long as we don't know these things we think, "What can I
do? I have so much greed and aversion." This is not clear knowledge.
It's just the same as when we thought the madman was sane. When we
finally see that he was mad all along we're relieved of worry. No-one
could show you this. Only when the mind sees for itself can it uproot
and relinquish attachment.
It's the same with this body which we call //sankharas//. Although
the Buddha has already explained that it's not substantial or a real
being as such, we still don't agree, we stubbornly cling to it. If the
body could talk, it would be telling us all day long, "You're not my
owner, you know." Actually it's telling us all the time, but it's
Dhamma language, so we're unable to understand it. For instance, the
sense organs of eye, ear, nose, tongue and body are continually
changing, but I've never seen them ask permission from us even once!
Like when we have a headache or a stomachache -- the body never asks
permission first, it just goes right ahead, following its natural
course. This shows that the body doesn't allow anyone to be its owner,
it doesn't have an owner. The Buddha described it as an empty thing.
We don't understand the Dhamma and so we don't understand these
//sankharas//; we take them to be ourselves, as belonging to us or
belonging to others. This gives rise to clinging. When clinging
arises, "becoming" follows on. Once becoming arises, then there is
birth. Once there is birth, then old age, sickness, death...the whole
mass of suffering arises. This is the //Paticcasamuppada//. [*] We say
ignorance gives rise to volitional activities, they give rise to
consciousness and so on. All these things are simply events in mind.
When we come into contact with something we don't like, if we don't
have mindfulness, ignorance is there. Suffering arises straight away.
But the mind passes through these changes so rapidly that we can't
keep up with them. It's the same as when you fall from a tree. Before
you know it -- "Thud!" -- you've hit the ground. Actually you've
passed many branches and twigs on the way but you couldn't count them,
you couldn't remember them as you passed them. You just fall, and then
[*] //Paticcasamuppada// -- The Chain of Conditioned Arising,
one of the central doctrines of Buddhist philosophy.
The //Paticcasamuppada// is the same as this. If we divide it up as
it is in the scriptures, we say ignorance gives rise to volitional
activities, volitional activities give rise to consciousness,
consciousness gives rise to mind and matter, mind and matter give rise
to the six sense bases, the sense bases give rise to sense contact,
contact gives rise to feeling, feeling gives rise to wanting, wanting
gives rise to clinging, clinging gives rise to becoming, becoming
gives rise to birth, birth gives rise to old age, sickness, death, and
all forms of sorrow. But in truth, when you come into contact with
something you don't like, there's immediate suffering! That feeling of
suffering is actually the result of the whole chain of the
//Paticcasamuppada//. This is why the Buddha exhorted his disciples to
investigate and know fully their own minds.
When people are born into the world they are without names - once
born, we name them. This is convention. We give people names for the
sake of convenience, to call each other by. The scriptures are the
same. We separate everything up with labels to make studying the
reality convenient. In the same way, all things are simply
//sankharas//. Their original nature is merely that of things born of
conditions. The Buddha said that they are impermanent, unsatisfactory
and not-self. They are unstable. We don't understand this firmly, our
understanding is not straight, and so we have wrong view. This wrong
view is that the //sankharas// are ourselves, we are the
//sankharas//, or that happiness and unhappiness are ourselves, we are
happiness and unhappiness. Seeing like this is not full, clear
knowledge of the true nature of things. The truth is that we can't
force all these things to follow our desires, they follow the way of
A simple comparison is this: suppose you go and sit in the middle of
a freeway with the cars and trucks charging down at you. You can't get
angry at the cars, shouting, "Don't drive over here! Don't drive over
here!" It's a freeway, you can't tell them that! So what can you do?
You get off the road! The road is the place where cars run, if you
don't want the cars to be there, you suffer.
It's the same with //sankharas//. We say they disturb us, like when
we sit in meditation and hear a sound. We think, "Oh, that sound's
bothering me." If we understand that the sound bothers us then we
suffer accordingly. If we investigate a little deeper, we will see
that it's we who go out and disturb the sound! The sound is simply
sound. If we understand like this then there's nothing more to it, we
leave it be. We see that the sound is one thing, we are another. One
who understands that the sound comes to disturb him is one who doesn't
see himself. He really doesn't! Once you see yourself, then you're at
ease. The sound is just sound, why should you go and grab it? You see
that actually it was you who went out and disturbed the sound. This is
real knowledge of the truth. You see both sides, so you have peace. If
you see only one side, there is suffering. Once you see both sides,
then you follow the Middle Way. This is the right practice of the
mind. This is what we call "straightening out our understanding."
In the same way, the nature of all //sankharas// is impermanence and
death, but we want to grab them, we carry them about and covet them.
We want them to be true. We want to find truth within the things that
aren't true! Whenever someone sees like this and clings to the
//sankharas// as being himself, he suffers. The Buddha wanted us to
The practice of Dhamma is not dependent on being a monk, a novice,
or a layman; it depends on straightening out your understanding. If
our understanding is correct, we arrive at peace. Whether you are
ordained or not it's the same, every person has the chance to practice
Dhamma, to contemplate it. We all contemplate the same thing. If you
attain peace, it's all the same peace; it's the same Path, with the
Therefore the Buddha didn't discriminate between laymen and monks,
he taught all people to practice to know the truth of the
//sankharas//. When we know this truth, we let them go. If we know the
truth there will be no more becoming or birth. How is there no more
birth? There is no way for birth to take place because we fully know
the truth of //sankharas//. If we fully know the truth, then there is
peace. Having or not having, it's all the same. Gain and loss are one.
The Buddha taught us to know this. This is peace; peace from
happiness, unhappiness, gladness and sorrow.
We must see that there is no reason to be born. Born in what way?
Born into gladness: When we get something we like we are glad over it.
If there is no clinging to that gladness there is no birth; if there
is clinging, this is called "birth." So if we get something, we aren't
born (into gladness). If we lose, then we aren't born (into sorrow).
This is the birthless and the deathless. Birth and death are both
founded in clinging to and cherishing the //sankharas//.
So the Buddha said. "There is no more becoming for me, finished is
the holy life, this is my last birth." There! He knew the birthless
and the deathless! This is what the Buddha constantly exhorted his
disciples to know. This is the right practice. If you don't reach it,
if you don't reach the Middle Way, then you won't transcend suffering.
* * *
"...Meditation means to make the mind peaceful in order to let
wisdom arise...To put it shortly, it's just a matter of
happiness and unhappiness. Happiness is pleasant feeling in the
mind, unhappiness is just unpleasant feeling. The Buddha taught
to separate this happiness and unhappiness from the mind..."
* * *
The Peace Beyond
It's of great importance that we practice the Dhamma. If we don't
practice, then all our knowledge is only superficial knowledge, just
the outer shell of it. It's as if we have some sort of fruit but we
haven't eaten it yet. Even though we have that fruit in our hand we
get no benefit from it. Only through the actual eating of the fruit we
really know its taste.
The Buddha didn't praise those who merely believe others, he praised
the person who knows within himself. Just as with that fruit, if we
have tasted it already, we don't have to ask anyone else if it's sweet
or sour. Our problems are over. Why are they over? Because we see
according to the truth. One who has realized the Dhamma is like one
who has realized the sweetness or sourness of the fruit. All doubts
are ended right here.
When we talk about Dhamma, although we may say a lot, it can usually
be brought down to four things. They are simply to know suffering, to
know the cause of suffering, to know the end of suffering and to know
the path of practice leading to the end of suffering. This is all
there is. All that we have experienced on the path of practice so far
comes down to these four things. When we know these things, our
problems are over.
Where are these four things born? They are born just within the body
and the mind, nowhere else. So why is the Dhamma of the Buddha so
broad and expansive? This is so in order to explain these things in a
more refined way, to help us to see them.
When Siddhattha Gotama was born into the world, before he saw the
Dhamma, he was an ordinary person just like us. When he knew what he
had to know, that is the truth of suffering, the cause, the end and
the way leading to the end of suffering, he realized the Dhamma and
became a perfectly Enlightened Buddha.
When we realize the Dhamma, wherever we sit we know Dhamma, wherever
we are we hear the Buddha's teaching. When we understand Dhamma, the
Buddha is within our mind, the Dhamma is within our mind, and the
practice leading to wisdom is within our own mind. Having the Buddha,
the Dhamma and the Sangha within our mind means that whether our
actions are good or bad, we know clearly for ourselves their true
nature. It was thus that the Buddha discarded worldly opinions, he
discarded praise and criticism. When people praised or criticized him
he just accepted it for what it was. These two things are simply
worldly conditions so he wasn't shaken by them. Why not? Because he
knew suffering. He knew that if he believed in that praise or
criticism they would cause him to suffer.
When suffering arises it agitates us, we feel ill at ease. What is
the cause of that suffering? It's because we don't know the Truth,
this is the cause. When the cause is present, then suffering arises.
Once arisen we don't know how to stop it. The more we try to stop it,
the more it comes on. We say, "Don't criticize me," or "Don't blame
me". Trying to stop it like this, suffering really comes on, it won't
So the Buddha taught that the way leading to the end of suffering is
to make the Dhamma arise as a reality within our own minds. We become
one who witnesses the Dhamma for himself. If someone says we are good
we don't get lost in it; they say we are no good we don't get lost in
it; they say we are no good and we don't forget ourselves. This way we
can be free. "Good" and "evil" are just worldly dhammas, they are just
states of mind. If we follow them our mind becomes the world, we just
grope in the darkness and don't know the way out. If it's like this
then we have not yet mastered ourselves. We try to defeat others, but
in doing so we only defeat ourselves; but if we have mastery over
ourselves then we have mastery over all -- over all mental formations,
sights, sounds, smells, tastes and bodily feelings.
Now I'm talking about externals, they're like that, but the outside
is reflected inside also. Some people only know the outside, they
don't know the inside. Like when we say to "see the body in the body."
Having seen the outer body is not enough, we must know the body within
the body. Then, having investigated the mind, we should know the mind
within the mind.
Why should we investigate the body? What is this "body in the body"?
When we say to know the mind, what is this "mind"? If we don't know
the mind then we don't know the things within the mind. This is to be
someone who doesn't know suffering, doesn't know the cause, doesn't
know the end and doesn't know the way. The things which should help to
extinguish suffering don't help, because we get distracted by the
things which aggravate it. It's just as if we have an itch on our head
and we scratch our leg! If it's our head that's itchy then we're
obviously not going to get much relief. In the same way, when
suffering arises we don't know how to handle it, we don't know the
practice leading to the end of suffering.
For instance, take this body, this body that each of us has brought
along to this meeting. If we just see the form of the body there's no
way we can escape suffering. Why not? Because we still don't see the
inside of the body, we only see the outside. We only see it as
something beautiful, something substantial. The Buddha said that only
this is not enough. We see the outside with our eyes; a child can see
it, animals can see it, it's not difficult. The outside of the body is
easily seen, but having seen it we stick to it, we don't know the
truth of it. Having seen it we grab onto it and it bites us!
So we should investigate the body within the body. Whatever's in the
body, go ahead and look at it. If we just see the outside it's not
clear. We see hair, nails and so on and they are just pretty things
which entice us, so the Buddha taught to see the inside of the body,
to see the body within the body. What is in the body? Look closely
within! We will see many things inside to surprise us, because even
though they are within us, we've never seen them. Wherever we walk we
carry them with us, sitting in a car we carry them with us, but we
still don't know them at all!
It's as if we visit some relatives at their house and they give us a
present. We take it and put it in our bag and then leave without
opening it to see what is inside. When at last we open it -- full of
poisonous snakes! Our body is like this. If we just see the shell of
it we say it's fine and beautiful. We forget ourselves. We forget
impermanence, unsatisfactoriness and not-self. If we look within this
body it's really repulsive. If we look according to reality, without
trying to sugar things over, we'll see that it's really pitiful and
wearisome. Dispassion will arise. This feeling of "disinterest" is not
that we feel aversion for the world or anything; it's simply our mind
clearing up, our mind letting go. We see things are naturally
established just as they are. However we want them to be, they just go
their own way regardless. Whether we laugh or cry, they simply are the
way they are. Things which are unstable are unstable; things which are
not beautiful are not beautiful.
So the Buddha said that when we experience sights, sounds, tastes,
smells, bodily feelings or mental states, we should release them. When
the ear hears sounds, let them go. When the nose smells an odor, let
it go...just leave it at the nose! When the bodily feelings arise, let
go of the like or dislike that follow, let them go back to their
birth-place. The same for mental states. All these things, just let
them go their way. This is knowing. Whether it's happiness or
unhappiness, it's all the same. This is called meditation.
Meditation means to make the mind peaceful in order to let wisdom
arise. This requires that we practice with body and mind in order to
see and know the sense impressions of form, sound, taste, smell, touch
and mental formations. To put it shortly, it's just a matter of
happiness and unhappiness. Happiness is pleasant feeling in the mind,
unhappiness is just unpleasant feeling. The Buddha taught to separate
this happiness and unhappiness from the mind. The mind is that which
knows. Feeling [*] is the characteristic of happiness or unhappiness,
like or dislike. When the mind indulges in these things we say that it
clings to or takes that happiness and unhappiness to be worthy of
holding. That clinging is an action of mind, that happiness or
unhappiness is feeling.
[*] Feeling is a translation of the Pali word //vedana//, and
should be understood in the sense Ajahn Chah herein describes
it: as the mental states of like, dislike, gladness, sorrow,
When we say the Buddha told us to separate the mind from the
feeling, he didn't literally mean to throw them to different places.
He meant that the mind must know happiness and know unhappiness. When
sitting in //samadhi//, for example, and peace fills the mind, then
happiness comes but it doesn't reach us, unhappiness comes but doesn't
reach us. This is to separate the feeling from the mind. We can
compare it to oil and water in a bottle. They don't combine. Even if
you try to mix them, the oil remains oil and the water remains water.
Why is this so? Because they are of different density.
The natural state of the mind is neither happiness nor unhappiness.
When feeling enters the mind then happiness or unhappiness is born. If
we have mindfulness then we know pleasant feeling as pleasant feeling.
The mind which knows will not pick it up. Happiness is there but it's
"outside" the mind, not buried within the mind. The mind simply knows
If we separate unhappiness from the mind, does that mean there is no
suffering, that we don't experience it? Yes, we experience it, but we
know mind as mind, feeling as feeling. We don't cling to that feeling
or carry it around. The Buddha separated these things through
knowledge. Did he have suffering? He knew the state of suffering but
he didn't cling to it, so we say that he cut suffering off. And there
was happiness too, but he knew that happiness, if it's not known, is
like a poison. He didn't hold it to be himself. Happiness was there
through knowledge, but it didn't exist in his mind. Thus we say that
he separated happiness and unhappiness from his mind.
When we say that the Buddha and the Enlightened Ones killed
defilements, [*] it's not that they really killed them. If they had
killed all defilements then we probably wouldn't have any! They didn't
kill defilements; when they knew them for what they are, they let them
go. Someone who's stupid will grab them, but the Enlightened Ones knew
the defilements in their own minds as a poison, so they swept them
out. They swept out the things which caused them to suffer, they
didn't kill them. One who doesn't know this will see some things, such
as happiness, as good, and then grab them, but the Buddha just knew
them and simply brushed them away.
[*] Defilements, or //kilesa//, are the habits born of ignorance
which infest the minds of all unenlightened beings.
But when feeling arises for us we indulge in it, that is, the mind
carries that happiness and unhappiness around. In fact they are two
different things. The activities of mind, pleasant feeling, unpleasant
feeling and so on, are mental impressions, they are the world. If the
mind knows this it can equally do work involving happiness or
unhappiness. Why? Because it knows the truth of these things. Someone
who doesn't know them sees them as equal. If you cling to happiness it
will be the birth-place of unhappiness later on, because happiness is
unstable, it changes all the time. When happiness disappears,
The Buddha knew that because both happiness and unhappiness are
unsatisfactory, they have the same value. When happiness arose he let
it go. He had right practice, seeing that both these things have equal
values and drawbacks. They come under the Law of Dhamma, that is, they
are unstable and unsatisfactory. Once born, they die. When he saw
this, right view arose, the right way of practice became clear. No
matter what sort of feeling or thinking arose in his mind, he knew it
as simply the continuous play of happiness and unhappiness. He didn't
cling to them.
When the Buddha was newly enlightened he gave a sermon about
indulgence in Pleasure and Indulgence in Pain. "Monks! Indulgence in
Pleasure is the loose way, Indulgence in Pain is the tense way." These
were the two things that disturbed his practice until the day he was
enlightened, because at first he didn't let go of them. When he knew
them, he let them go, and so was able to give his first sermon.
So we say that a meditator should not walk the way of happiness or
unhappiness, rather he should know them. Knowing the truth of
suffering, he will know the cause of suffering, the end of suffering
and the way leading to the end of suffering. And the way out of
suffering is meditation itself. To put it simply, we must be mindful.
Mindfulness is knowing, or presence of mind. Right now what are we
thinking, what are we doing? What do we have with us right now? We
observe like this, we are aware of how we are living. When we practice
like this wisdom can arise. We consider and investigate at all times,
in all postures. When a mental impression arises that we like to know
it as such, we don't hold it to be anything substantial. It's just
happiness. When unhappiness arises we know that it's Indulgence in
Pain, it's not the path of a meditator.
This is what we call separating the mind from the feeling. If we are
clever we don't attach, we leave things be. We become the 'one who
knows'. The mind and feeling are just like oil and water; they are in
the same bottle but they don't mix. Even if we are sick or in pain, we
still know the feeling as feeling, the mind as mind. We know the
painful or comfortable states but we don't identify with them. We stay
only with peace: the peace beyond both comfort and pain.
You should understand it like this, because if there is no permanent
self then there is no refuge. You must live like this, that is,
without happiness and without unhappiness. You stay only with the
knowing, you don't carry things around.
As long as we are still unenlightened all this may sound strange but
it doesn't matter, we just set our goal in this direction. The mind is
the mind. It meets happiness and unhappiness and we see them as merely
that, there's nothing more to it. They are divided, not mixed. If they
are all mixed up then we don't know them. It's like living in a house;
the house and its occupant are related, but separate. If there is
danger in our house we are distressed because we must protect it, but
if the house catches fire we get out of it. If painful feeling arises
we get out of it, just like that house. When it's full of fire and we
know it, we come running out of it. They are separate things; the
house is one thing, the occupant is the other.
We say that we separate mind and feeling in this way but in fact
they are by nature already separate. Our realization is simply to know
this natural separateness according to reality. When we say they are
not separated it's because we're clinging to them through ignorance of
So the Buddha told us to meditate. This practice of meditation is
very important. Merely to know with the intellect is not enough. The
knowledge which arises from practice with a peaceful mind and the
knowledge which comes from study are really far apart. The knowledge
which comes from study is not real knowledge of our mind. The mind
tries to hold onto and keep this knowledge. Why do we try to keep it?
Just lose it! And then when it's lost we cry!
If we really know, then there's letting go, leaving things be. We
know how things are and don't forget ourselves. If it happens that we
are sick we don't get lost in that. Some people think, "This year I
was sick the whole time, I couldn't meditate at all." These are the
words of a really foolish person. Someone who's sick and dying should
really be diligent in his practice. One may say he doesn't trust his
body, and so he feels that he can't meditate. If we think like this
then things are difficult. The Buddha didn't teach like that. He said
that right here is the place to meditate. When we're sick or almost
dying that's when we can really know and see reality.
Other people say they don't have the chance to meditate because
they're too busy. Sometimes school teachers come to see me. They say
they have many responsibilities so there's no time to meditate. I ask
them, "When you're teaching do you have time to breathe?" They answer,
"Yes." "So how can you have time to breathe if the work is so hectic
and confusing? Here you are far from Dhamma."
Actually this practice is just about the mind and its feelings. It's
not something that you have to run after or struggle for. Breathing
continues while working. Nature takes care of the natural processes --
all we have to do is try to be aware. Just to keep trying, going
inwards to see clearly. Meditation is like this.
If we have that presence of mind then whatever work we do will be
the very tool which enables us to know right and wrong continually.
There's plenty of time to meditate, we just don't fully understand the
practice, that's all. While sleeping we breathe, eating we breathe,
don't we? Why don't we have time to meditate? Wherever we are we
breathe. If we think like this then our life has as much value as our
breath, wherever we are we have time.
All kinds of thinking are mental conditions, not conditions of body,
so we need simply have presence of mind, then we will know right and
wrong at all times. Standing, walking, sitting and lying, there's
plenty of time. We just don't know how to use it properly. Please
We cannot run away from feeling, we must know it. Feeling is just
feeling, happiness is just happiness, unhappiness is just unhappiness.
They are simply that. So why should we cling to them? If the mind is
clever, simply to hear this is enough to enable us to separate feeling
from the mind.
If we investigate like this continuously the mind will find release,
but it's not escaping through ignorance. The mind lets go, but it
knows. It doesn't let go through stupidity, not because it doesn't
want things to be the way they are. It lets go because it knows
according to the truth. This is seeing nature, the reality that's all
When we know this we are someone who's skilled with the mind, we are
skilled with mental impressions. When we are skilled with mental
impressions we are skilled with the world. This is to be a "Knower of
the World." The Buddha was someone who clearly knew the world with all
its difficulty. He knew the troublesome, and that which was not
troublesome was right there. This world is so confusing, how is it
that the Buddha was able to know it? Here we should understand that
the Dhamma taught by the Buddha is not beyond our ability. In all
postures we should have presence of mind and self-awareness -- and
when it's time to sit meditation we do that.
We sit in meditation to establish peacefulness and cultivate mental
energy. We don't do it in order to play around at anything special.
Insight meditation is sitting in //samadhi// itself. At some places
they say, "Now we are going to sit in //samadhi//, after that we'll do
insight meditation." Don't divide them like this! Tranquility is the
base which gives rise to wisdom; wisdom is the fruit of tranquility.
To say that now we are going to do calm meditation, later we'll do
insight -- you can't do that! You can only divide them in speech. Just
like a knife, the blade is on one side, the back of the blade on the
other. You can't divide them. If you pick up one side you get both
sides. Tranquility gives rise to wisdom like this.
Morality is the father and mother of Dhamma. In the beginning we
must have morality. Morality is peace. This means that there are no
wrong doings in body or speech. When we don't do wrong then we don't
get agitated; when we don't become agitated then peace and
collectedness arise within the mind. So we say that morality,
concentration and wisdom are the path on which all the Noble Ones have
walked to enlightenment. They are all one. Morality is concentration,
concentration is morality. Concentration is wisdom, wisdom is
concentration. It's like a mango. When it's a flower we call it a
flower. When it becomes a fruit we call it a mango. When it ripens we
call it a ripe mango. It's all one mango but it continually changes.
The big mango grows from the small mango, the small mango becomes a
big one. You can call them different fruits or all one. Morality,
concentration and wisdom are related like this. In the end it's all
the path that leads to enlightenment.
The mango, from the moment it first appears as a flower, simply
grows to ripeness. This is enough, we should see it like this.
Whatever others call it, it doesn't matter. Once it's born it grows to
old age, and then where? We should contemplate this.
Some people don't want to be old. When they get old they become
regretful. These people shouldn't eat ripe mangoes! Why do we want the
mangoes to be ripe? If they're not ripe in time, we ripen them
artificially, don't we? But when we become old we are filled with
regret. Some people cry, they're afraid to get old or die. If it's
like this then they shouldn't eat ripe mangoes, better eat just the
flowers! If we can see this then we can see the Dhamma. Everything
clears up, we are at peace. Just determine to practice like that.
So today the Chief Privy Councillor and his party have come together
to hear the Dhamma. You should take what I've said and contemplate it.
If anything is not right, please excuse me. But for you to know
whether it's right or wrong depends on your practicing and seeing for
yourselves. Whatever's wrong, throw it out. If it's right then take it
and use it. But actually we practice in order to let go both right and
wrong. In the end we just throw everything out. If it's right, throw
it out; wrong, throw it out! Usually if it's right we cling to
rightness, if it's wrong we hold it to be wrong, and then arguments
follow. But he Dhamma is the place where there's nothing -- nothing at
* * *
"...The Buddha was enlightened in the world, he contemplated the
world. If he hadn't contemplated the world, if he hadn't seen
the world, he couldn't have risen above it. The Buddha's
enlightenment was simply enlightenment of this very world. The
world was still there: gain and loss, praise and criticism, fame
and disrepute, happiness and unhappiness were all still there.
If there weren't these things there would be nothing to become
* * *
Opening the Dhamma Eye
Some of us start to practice, and even after a year or two, still
don't know what's what. We are still unsure of the practice. When
we're still unsure, we don't see that everything around us is purely
Dhamma, and so we turn to teachings from the Ajahns. But actually,
when we know our own mind, when there is //sati// to look closely at
the mind, there is wisdom. All times and all places become occasions
for us to hear the Dhamma.
We can learn Dhamma from nature, from trees for example. A tree is
born due to causes and it grows following the course of nature. Right
here the tree is teaching us Dhamma, but we don't understand this. In
due course, it grows until it buds, flowers and fruit appear. All we
see is the appearance of the flowers and fruit; we're unable to bring
this within and contemplate it. Thus we don't know that the tree is
teaching us Dhamma. The fruit appears and we merely eat it without
investigating: sweet, sour or salty, it's the nature of the fruit. And
this Dhamma, the teaching of the fruit. Following on, the leaves grow
old. They wither, die and then fall from the tree. All we see is that
the leaves have fallen down. We step on them, we sweep them up, that's
all. We don't investigate thoroughly, so we don't know that nature is
teaching us. Later on the new leaves sprout, and we merely see that,
without taking it further. We don't bring these things into our minds
If we can bring all this inwards and investigate it, we will see
that the birth of a tree and our own birth are no different. This body
of ours is born and exists dependent on conditions, on the elements of
earth, water, wind and fire. It has its food, it grows and grows.
Every part of the body changes and flows according to its nature. It's
no different from the tree; hair, nails, teeth and skin -- all change.
If we know the things of nature, then we will know ourselves.
People are born. In the end they die. Having died they are born
again. Nails, teeth and skin are constantly dying and re-growing. If
we understand the practice then we can see that a tree is no different
from ourselves. If we understand the teaching of the Ajahns, then we
realize that the outside and the inside are comparable. Things which
have consciousness and those without consciousness do not differ. They
are the same. And if we understand this sameness, then when we see the
nature of a tree, for example, we will know that it's no different
from our own five //khandhas// [*] -- body, feeling, memory, thinking
and consciousness. If we have this understanding then we understand
Dhamma. If we understand Dhamma we understand the five //khandhas//,
how they constantly shift and change, never stopping.
[*] //Khandhas//. They are the five "groups" which go to make up
what we call "a person."
So whether standing, walking, sitting or lying we should have
//sati// to watch over and look after the mind. When we see external
things it's like seeing internals. When we see internals it's the same
as seeing externals. If we understand this then we can hear the
teaching of the Buddha. If we understand this, then we can say that
Buddha-nature, the 'One who knows', has been established. It knows the
external. It knows the internal. It understands all things which
arise. Understanding like this, then sitting at the foot of a tree we
hear the Buddha's teaching. Standing, walking, sitting or lying, we
hear the Buddha's teaching. Seeing, hearing, smelling, tasting,
touching and thinking, we hear the Buddha's teaching. The Buddha is
just this 'One who knows' within this very mind. It knows the Dhamma,
it investigates the Dhamma. It's not that the Buddha-nature, the 'one
who knows', arises. The mind becomes illumined.
If we establish the Buddha within our mind then we see everything,
we contemplate everything, as no different from ourselves. We see
various animals, trees, mountains and vines as no different from
ourselves. We see poor people and rich people -- they're no different!
They all have the same characteristics. One who understands like this
is content wherever he is. He listens to the Buddha's teaching at all
times. If we don't understand this, then even if we spend all our time
listening to teachings from the various Ajahns, we still won't
understand their meaning.
The Buddha said that enlightenment of the Dhamma is just knowing
Nature, [*] the reality which is all around us, the Nature which is
right here! If we don't understand this Nature we experience
disappointment and joy, we get lost in moods, giving rise to sorrow
and regret. Getting lost in mental objects is getting lost in Nature.
When we get lost in Nature then we don't know Dhamma. The Enlightened
One merely pointed out this Nature.
[*] Nature here refers to all things, mental and physical, not
just trees, animals, etc.
Having arisen, all things change and die. Things we make, such as
plates, bowls and dishes, all have the same characteristic. A bowl is
molded into being due to a cause, man's impulse to create, and as we
use it, it gets old, breaks up and disappears. Trees, mountains and
vines are the same, right up to animals and people.
When Anna Kondanna, the first disciple, heard the Buddha's teaching
for the first time, the realization he had was nothing very
complicated. He simply saw that whatever thing is born, that thing
must change and grow old as a natural condition and eventually it must
die. Anna Kondanna had never thought of this before, or if he had it
wasn't thoroughly clear, so he hadn't yet let go, he still clung to
the //khandhas//. As he sat mindfully listening to the Buddha's
discourse, Buddha-nature arose in him. He received a sort of Dhamma
"transmission," which was the knowledge that all conditioned things
are impermanent. Any thing which is born must have aging and death as
a natural result.
This feeling was different from anything he'd ever known before. He
truly realized his mind, and so "Buddha" arose within him. At that
time the Buddha declared that Anna Kondanna had received the Eye of
What is it that this Eye of Dhamma sees? This Eye sees that whatever
is born has aging and death as a natural result. "Whatever is born"
means everything! Whether material or immaterial, it all comes under
this "whatever is born." It refers to all of Nature. Like this body
for instance -- it's born and then proceeds to extinction. When it's
small it "dies" from smallness to youth. After a while it "dies" from
youth and becomes middle-aged. Then it goes on to "die" from
middle-age and reach old-age, finally reaching the end. Trees,
mountains and vines all have this characteristic.
So the vision or understanding of the 'One who knows' clearly
entered the mind of Anna Kondanna as he sat there. This knowledge of
"whatever is born" became deeply embedded in his mind, enabling him to
uproot attachment to the body. This attachment was //sakkayaditthi//.
This means that he didn't take the body to be a self or a being, or in
terms of "he" or "me." He didn't cling to it. He saw it clearly, thus
And the //vicikiccha// (doubt) was destroyed. Having uprooted
attachment to the body he didn't doubt his realization. //Silabbata
paramasa// [*] was also uprooted. His practice became firm and
straight. Even if his body was in pain or fever he didn't grasp it, he
didn't doubt. He didn't doubt, because he had uprooted clinging. This
grasping of the body is called //silabbata paramasa//. When one
uproots the view of the body being the self, grasping and doubt are
finished with. If just this view of the body as the self arises within
the mind then grasping and doubt begin right there.
[*] //Silabbata paramasa// is traditionally translated as
attachment to rites and rituals. Here the Venerable Ajahn
relates it, along with doubt, specifically to the body.
These three things, //sakkayaditthi//, //vicikiccha//, and
//silabbata paramasa//, are, in the scriptures, the first
three of the ten "fetters," which are given up on the first
glimpse of Enlightenment, known as "Stream Entry." At full
Enlightenment all ten fetters are transcended.
So as the Buddha expounded the Dhamma, Anna Kondanna opened the Eye
of Dhamma. This Eye is just the "One who knows clearly." It sees
things differently. It sees this very nature. Seeing Nature clearly,
clinging is uprooted and the 'One who knows' is born. Previously he
knew but he still had clinging. You could say that he knew the Dhamma
but he still hadn't seen it, or he had seen the Dhamma but still
wasn't one with it.
At this time the Buddha said, "Kondanna knows." What did he know? He
just knew Nature! Usually we get lost in Nature, as with this body of
ours. Earth, water, fire and wind come together to make this body.
It's an aspect of Nature, a material object we can see with the eye.
It exists depending on food, growing and changing until finally it
Coming inwards, that which watches over the body is consciousness --
just this 'One who knows', this single awareness. If it receives
through the ear it's called hearing; through the nose it's called
smelling; through the tongue, tasting; through the body, touching; and
through the mind, thinking. This consciousness is just one but when it
functions at different places we call it different things. Through the
eye we call it one thing, through the ear we call it another. But
whether it functions at the eye, ear, nose, tongue, body or mind it's
just one awareness. Following the scriptures we call it the six
consciousness, but in reality there is only one consciousness arising
at these six different bases. There are six "doors" but a single
awareness, which is this very mind.
This mind is capable of knowing the truth of Nature. If the mind
still has obstructions, then we say it knows through ignorance. It
knows wrongly and it sees wrongly. Knowing wrongly and seeing wrongly,
or knowing and seeing rightly, it's just a single awareness. We say
wrong view and right view but it's just one thing. Right and wrong
both arise from this one place. When there is wrong knowledge we say
that Ignorance conceals the truth. When there is wrong knowledge then
there is wrong view, wrong intention, wrong action, wrong livelihood
-- everything is wrong! And on the other hand the path of right
practice is born in this same place. When there is right then the
The Buddha practiced enduring many hardships and torturing himself
with fasting and so on, but he investigated deeply into his mind until
finally he uprooted ignorance. All the Buddhas were enlightened in
mind, because the body knows nothing. You can let it eat or not, it
doesn't matter, it can die at any time. The Buddhas all practiced with
the mind. They were enlightened in mind.
The Buddha, having contemplated his mind, gave up the two extremes
of practice -- indulgence in pleasure and indulgence in pain -- and in
his first discourse expounded the Middle Way between these two. But we
hear his teaching and it grates against our desires. We're infatuated
with pleasure and comfort, infatuated with happiness, thinking we are
good, we are fine -- this is indulgence in pleasure. It's not the
right path. Dissatisfaction, displeasure, dislike and anger -- this is
indulgence in pain. These are the extreme ways which one on the path
of practice should avoid.
These "ways" are simply the happiness and unhappiness which arise.
The "one on the path" is this very mind, the 'One who knows'. If a
good mood arises we cling to it as good, this is indulgence in
pleasure. If an unpleasant mood arises we cling to it through dislike-
this is indulgence in pain. These are the wrong paths, they aren't the
ways of a meditator. They're the ways of the worldly, those who look
for fun and happiness and shun unpleasantness and suffering.
The wise know the wrong paths but they relinquish them, they give
them up. They are unmoved by pleasure and displeasure, happiness and
unhappiness. These things arise but those who know don't cling to
them, they let them go according to their nature. This is right view.
When one knows this fully there is liberation. Happiness and
unhappiness have no meaning for an Enlightened One.
The Buddha said that the Enlightened Ones were far from defilements.
This doesn't mean that they ran away from defilements, they didn't run
away anywhere. Defilements were there. He compared it to a lotus leaf
in a pond of water. The leaf and the water exist together, they are in
contact, but the leaf doesn't become damp. The water is like
defilements and the lotus leaf is the Enlightened Mind.
The mind of one who practices is the same; it doesn't run away
anywhere, it stays right there. Good, evil, happiness, and
unhappiness, right and wrong arise, and he knows them all. The
meditator simply knows them, they don't enter his mind. That is, he
has no clinging. He is simply the experiencer. To say he simply
experiences is our common language. In the language of Dhamma we say
he lets his mind follow the Middle Way.
These activities of happiness, unhappiness and so on are constantly
arising because they are characteristics of the world. The Buddha was
enlightened in the world, he contemplated the world. If he hadn't
contemplated the world, if he hadn't seen the world, he couldn't have
risen above it. The Buddha's Enlightenment was simply enlightenment of
this very world. The world was still there: gain and loss, praise and
criticism, fame and disrepute, happiness and unhappiness were still
there. If there weren't these things there would be nothing to become
enlightened to! What he knew was just the world, that which surrounds
the hearts of people. If people follow these things, seeking praise
and fame, gain and happiness, and trying to avoid their opposites,
they sink under the weight of the world.
Gain and loss, praise and criticism, fame and disrepute, happiness
and unhappiness -- this is the world. The person who is lost in the
world has no path of escape, the world overwhelms him. This world
follows the Law of Dhamma so we call it worldly dhamma. He who lives
within the worldly dhamma is called a worldly being. He lives
surrounded by confusion.
Therefore the Buddha taught us to develop the path. We can divide it
up into morality, concentration and wisdom -- develop them to
completion! This is the path of practice which destroys the world.
Where is this world? It is just in the minds of beings infatuated with
it! The action of clinging to praise, gain, fame, happiness and
unhappiness is called "world." when it is there in the mind, then the
world arises, the worldly being is born. The world is born because of
desire. Desire is the birthplace of all worlds. To put an end to
desire is to put an end to the world.
Our practice of morality, concentration and wisdom is otherwise
called the Eightfold Path. This Eightfold Path and the eight worldly
dhammas are a pair. How is it that they are a pair? If we speak
according to the scriptures, we say that gain and loss, praise and
criticism, fame and disrepute, happiness and unhappiness are the eight
worldly dhammas. Right view, Right Intention, Right Speech, Right
Action, Right Livelihood, Right Effort, Right Mindfulness and Right
Concentration, this is the Eightfold Path. These two eightfold ways
exist in the same place. The eight worldly dhammas are right here in
this very mind, with the 'One who knows' but this 'One who knows' has
obstructions, so it knows wrongly and thus becomes the world. It's
just this one 'One who knows', no other! The Buddha-nature has not yet
arisen in this mind, it has not yet extracted itself from the world.
The mind like this is the world.
When we practice the path, when we train our body and speech, it's
all done in that very same mind. It's the same place so they see each
other; the path sees the world. If we practice with this mind of ours
we encounter this clinging to praise, fame, pleasure and happiness, we
see the attachment to the world.
The Buddha said, "You should know the world. It dazzles like a
king's royal carriage. Fools are entranced, but the wise are not
deceived." It's not that he wanted us to go all over the world looking
at everything, studying everything about it. He simply wanted us to
watch this mind which is attached to it. When the Buddha told us to
look at the world he didn't want us to get stuck in it, he wanted us
to investigate it, because the world is born just in this mind.
sitting in the shade of a tree you can look at the world. When there
is desire the world comes into being right there. Wanting is the birth
place of the world. To extinguish wanting is to extinguish the world.
When we sit in meditation we want the mind to become peaceful, but
it's not peaceful. Why is this? We don't want to think but we think.
It's like a person who goes to sit on an ant's nest: the ants just
keep on biting him. When the mind is the world then even sitting still
with our eyes closed, all we see is the world. Pleasure, sorrow,
anxiety, confusion -- it all arises. Why is this? It's because we
still haven't realized Dhamma. If the mind is like this the meditator
can't endure the worldly dhammas, he doesn't investigate. It's just
the same as if he were sitting on an ants' nest. The ants are going to
bite because he's right on their home! So what should he do? He should
look for some poison or use fire to drive them out.
But most Dhamma practitioners don't see it like that. If they feel
content they just follow contentment, feeling discontent they just
follow that. Following the worldly dhammas the mind becomes the world.
Sometimes we may think, "Oh, I can't do it, it's beyond me...", so we
don't even try! This is because the mind is full of defilements, the
worldly dhammas prevent the path from arising. We can't endure in the
development of morality, concentration and wisdom. It's just like that
man sitting on the ants' nest. He can't do anything, the ants are
biting and crawling all over him, he's immersed in confusion and
agitation. He can't rid his sitting place of the danger, so he just
sits there, suffering.
So it is with our practice. The worldly dhammas exist in the minds
of worldly beings. When those beings wish to find peace the worldly
dhammas arise right there. When the mind is ignorant there is only
darkness. When knowledge arises the mind is illumined, because
ignorance and knowledge are born in the same place. When ignorance has
arisen, knowledge can't enter, because the mind has accepted
ignorance. When knowledge has arisen, ignorance cannot stay.
So the Buddha exhorted his disciples to practice with the mind,
because the world is born in this mind, the eight worldly dhammas are
there. The Eightfold Path, that is, investigation through calm and
insight meditation, our diligent effort and the wisdom we develop, all
these things loosen the grip of the world. Attachment, aversion and
delusion become lighter, and being lighter, we know them as such. If
we experience fame, material gain, praise, happiness or suffering
we're aware of it. We must know these things before we can transcend
the world, because the world is within us.
When we're free of these things it's just like leaving a house. When
we enter a house what sort of feeling do we have? We feel that we've
come through the door and entered the house. When we leave the house
we feel that we've left it, we come into the bright sunlight, it's not
dark like it was inside. The action of the mind entering the worldly
dhammas is like entering the house. The mind which has destroyed the
worldly dhammas is like one who has left the house.
So the Dhamma practitioner must become one who witnesses the Dhamma
for himself. He knows for himself whether the worldly dhammas have
left or not, whether or not the path has been developed. When the path
has been well developed it purges the worldly dhammas. It becomes
stronger and stronger. Right view grows as wrong view decreases, until
finally the path destroys defilements -- either that or defilements
will destroy the path!
Right view and wrong view, there are only these two ways. Wrong view
has its tricks as well, you know, it has its wisdom -- but it's wisdom
that's misguided. The meditator who begins to develop the path
experiences a separation. Eventually it's as if he is two people --
one in the world and the other on the path. They divide, they pull
apart. Whenever he's investigating there's this separation, and it
continues on and on until the mind reaches insight, vipassana.
Or maybe it's //vipassanu//! [*] Having tried to establish wholesome
results in our practice, seeing them, we attach to them. This type of
clinging comes from our wanting to get something from the practice.
This is //vipassanu//, the wisdom of defilements (i.e., "defiled
wisdom"). Some people develop goodness and cling to it, they develop
purity and cling to that, or they develop knowledge and cling to that.
The action of clinging to that goodness or knowledge is //vipassanu//,
infiltrating our practice.
[*] I.e., //vipassanupakkilesa// -- the subtle defilements
arising from meditation practice.
So when you develop //vipassana//, be careful! Watch out for
//vipassanu//, because they're so close that sometimes you can't tell
them apart. But with right view we can see them both clearly. If it's
//vipassanu// there will be suffering arising at times as a result. If
it's really //vipassana// there's no suffering. There is peace. Both
happiness and unhappiness are silenced. This you can see for yourself.
This practice requires endurance. Some people, when they come to
practice, don't want to be bothered by anything, they don't want
friction. But there's friction the same as before. We must try to find
an end to friction through friction itself! So, if there's friction in
your practice, then it's right. If there's no friction it's not right,
you just eat and sleep as much as you want. When you want to go
anywhere or say anything you just follow your desires. The teaching of
the Buddha grates. The supermundane goes against the worldly. Right
view opposes wrong view, purity opposes impurity. The teaching grates
against our desires.
There's a story in the scriptures about the Buddha, before he was
enlightened. At that time, having received a plate of rice, he floated
that plate on a stream of water, determining in his mind, "If I am to
be enlightened, may this plate float against the current of the
water." The plate floated upstream! That plate was the Buddha's right
view, or the Buddha-nature that he became awakened to. It didn't
follow the desires of ordinary beings. It floated against the flow of
his mind, it was contrary in every way.
These days, in the same way, the Buddha's teaching is contrary to
our hearts. People want to indulge in greed and hatred but the Buddha
won't let them. They want to be deluded but the Buddha destroys
delusion. So the mind of the Buddha is contrary to that of worldly
beings. The world calls the body beautiful, he says it's not
beautiful. They say the body belongs to us, he says not so. They say
it's substantial, he says it's not. Right view is above the world.
Worldly beings merely follow the flow of the stream.
Continuing on, when the Buddha got up from there, he received eight
handfuls of grass from a brahmin. The real meaning of this is that the
eight handfuls of grass were the right worldly dhammas -- gain and
loss, praise and criticism, fame and disrepute, happiness and
unhappiness. The Buddha, having received this grass, determined to sit
on it and enter //samadhi//. The action of sitting on the grass was
itself //samadhi//, that is, his mind was above the worldly dhammas,
subduing the world until it realized the transcendent. The worldly
dhammas became like refuse for him, they lost all meaning. He sat over
them but they didn't obstruct his mind in any way. The various maras
came to try to overcome him, but he just sat there in //samadhi//,
subduing the world, until finally he became enlightened to the Dhamma
and completely defeated Mara. [*] That is, he defeated the world. So
the practice of developing the path is that which kills defilements.
[*] Mara (the Tempter), the Buddhist personification of evil. To
the meditator it is all that obstructs the quest for
People these days have little faith. Having practiced a year or two
they want to get there, and they want to go fast. They don't consider
that the Buddha, our Teacher, had left home a full six years before he
became enlightened. This is why we have "freedom from dependence." [*]
According to the scriptures, a monk must have at least five rains [**]
before he is considered able to live on his own. By this time he has
studied and practiced sufficiently, he has adequate knowledge, he has
faith, his conduct is good. Someone who practices for five years, I
say he's competent. But he must really practice, not just "hang out"
in the robes for five years. He must really look after the practice,
really do it!
[*] "Freedom from dependence," that is, he lives under the
guidance of a senior monk, for the first five years.
[**] "Rains" refers to the yearly three-month rains retreat by
which monks count their age. Thus, a monk of five rains has
been ordained for five years.
Until you reach five rains you may wonder, "What is this 'freedom
from dependence' that the Buddha talked about?" You must really try to
practice for five years and then you'll know for yourself the
qualities he was referring to. After that time you should be
competent, competent in mind, one who is certain. At the very least,
after five rains, one should be at the first stage of enlightenment.
This is not just five rains in body but five rains in mind as well.
That monk has fear of blame, a sense of shame and modesty. He doesn't
dare to do wrong either in front of people or behind their backs, in
the light or in the dark. Why not? Because he has reached the Buddha,
'The One who knows'. He takes refuge in the Buddha, the Dhamma and the
To depend truly on the Buddha, the Dhamma and the Sangha we must see
the Buddha. What use would it be to take refuge without knowing the
Buddha? If we don't yet know the Buddha, the Dhamma and the Sangha,
our taking refuge in them is just an act of body and speech, the mind
still hasn't reached them. Once the mind reaches them we know what the
Buddha, the Dhamma, and the Sangha are like. Then we can really take
refuge in them, because these things arise in our minds. Wherever we
are we will have the Buddha, the Dhamma and the Sangha with us.
One who is like this doesn't dare to commit evil acts. This is why
we say that one who has reached the first stage of enlightenment will
no longer be born in the woeful states. His mind is certain, he has
entered the Stream, there is no doubt for him. If he doesn't reach
full enlightenment today it will certainly be some time in the future.
He may do wrong but not enough to send him to Hell, that is, he
doesn't regress to evil bodily and verbal actions, he is incapable of
it. So we say that person has entered the Noble Birth. He cannot
return. This is something you should see and know for yourselves in
this very life.
These days, those of us who still have doubts about the practice
hear these things and say, "Oh, how can I do that?" Sometimes we feel
happy, sometimes troubled, pleased or displeased. For what reason?
Because we don't know Dhamma. What Dhamma? Just the Dhamma of Nature,
the reality around us, the body and the mind.
The Buddha said, "Don't cling to the five //khandhas//, let them go,
give them up!" Why can't we let them go? Just because we don't see
them or know them fully. We see them as ourselves, we see ourselves in
the //khandhas//. Happiness and suffering, we see as ourselves, we see
ourselves in happiness and suffering. We can't separate ourselves from
them. When we can't separate them it means we can't see Dhamma, we
can't see Nature.
Happiness, unhappiness, pleasure and sadness -- none of them is us
but we take them to be so. These things come into contact with us and
we see a lump of 'atta', or self. Wherever there is self there you
will find happiness, unhappiness and everything else. So the Buddha
said to destroy this "lump" of self, that is to destroy //sakkaya
ditthi//. When //atta// (self) is destroyed, //anatta// (non-self)
We take Nature to be us and ourselves to be Nature, so we don't know
Nature truly. If it's good we laugh with it, if it's bad we cry over
it. But Nature is simply sankharas. As we say in the chanting, //Tesam
vupasamo sukho// -- pacifying the //sankharas// is real happiness. How
do we pacify them? We simply remove clinging and see them as they
So there is truth in this world. Trees, mountains and vines all live
according to their own truth, they are born and die following their
nature. It's just we people who aren't true! We see it and make a fuss
over it, the Nature is impassive, it just is as it is. We laugh, we
cry, we kill, but Nature remains in truth, it is truth. No matter how
happy or sad we are, this body just follows its own nature. It's born,
it grows up and ages, changing and getting older all the time. It
follows Nature in this way. Whoever takes the body to be himself and
carries it around with him, will suffer.
So Anna Kondanna recognized this "whatever is born" in everything,
be it material or immaterial. His view of the world changed. He saw
the truth. Having got up from his sitting place he took that truth
with him. The activity of birth and death continued but he simply
looked on. Happiness and unhappiness were arising and passing away but
he merely noted them. His mind was constant. He no longer fell into
the woeful states. He didn't get over-pleased or unduly upset about
these things. His mind was firmly established in the activity of
There! Anna Kondanna had received the Eye of Dhamma. He saw Nature,
which we call //sankharas//, according to truth. Wisdom is that which
knows the truth of //sankharas//. This is the mind which knows and
sees Dhamma, which has surrendered.
Until we have seen the Dhamma we must have patience and restraint.
We must endure, we must renounce! We must cultivate diligence and
endurance. Why must we cultivate diligence? Because we're lazy! Why
must we develop endurance? Because we don't endure! That the way it
is. But when we are already established in our practice, have finished
with laziness, then we don't need to use diligence. If we already know
the truth of all mental states, if we don't get happy or unhappy over
them, we don't need to exercise endurance, because the mind is already
Dhamma. The 'One who knows' has seen the Dhamma, he is the Dhamma.
When the mind is Dhamma, it stops. It has attained peace. There's no
longer a need to do anything special, because the mind is Dhamma
already. The outside is Dhamma, the inside is Dhamma. The 'One who
knows' is Dhamma. The state is Dhamma and that which knows the state
is Dhamma. It is one. It is free.
This Nature is not born, it does not age nor sicken. This Nature
does not die. This Nature is neither happy nor sad, neither big nor
small, heavy nor light; neither short nor long, black nor white.
There's nothing you can compare it to. No convention can reach it.
This is why we say //Nirvana// has no colour. All colors are merely
conventions. The state which is beyond the world is beyond the reach
of worldly conventions.
So the Dhamma is that which is beyond the world. It is that which
each person should see for himself. It is beyond language. You can't
put it into words, you can only talk about ways and means of realizing
it. The person who has seen it for himself has finished his work.
* * *
"...Regardless of time and place, the whole practice of Dhamma
comes to completion at the place where there is nothing. It's
the place of surrender, of emptiness, of laying down the
* * *
Convention and Liberation
The things of this world are merely conventions of our own making.
Having established them we get lost in them, and refuse to let go,
giving rise to clinging to our personal views and opinions. This
clinging never ends, it is //samsara//, flowing endlessly on. It has
no completion. Now, if we know conventional reality then we'll know
Liberation. If we clearly know Liberation, then we'll know convention.
This is to know the Dhamma. Here there is completion.
Take people, for instance. In reality people don't have any names,
we are simply born naked into the world. If we have names, they arise
only through convention. I've contemplated this and seen that is you
don't know the truth of this convention it can be really harmful. It's
simply something we use for convenience. Without it we couldn't
communicate, there would be nothing to say, no language.
I've seen the Westerners when they sit in meditation together in the
West. When they get up after sitting, men and women together,
sometimes they go and touch each other on the head! [*] When I saw
this I thought, "Ehh, if we cling to convention it gives rise to
defilements right there." If we can let go of convention, give up our
opinions, we are at peace.
[*] The head is regarded as sacred in Thailand, and to touch a
person's head is considered an insult. Also, according to
tradition, men and women do not touch each other in public.
On the other hand, sitting in meditation is regarded as a
"holy" activity. Perhaps here the Venerable Ajahn was using
an example of Western behavior which particularly shock a
Like the generals and colonels, men of rank and position, who come
to see me. When they come they say, "Oh, please touch my head." [*] If
they ask like this there's nothing wrong with it, they're glad to have
their heads touched. But if you tapped their heads in the middle of
the street it'd be a different story! This is because of clinging. So
I feel that letting go is really the way of peace. Touching a head is
against our customs, but in reality it is nothing. When they agree to
having it touched there's nothing wrong with it, just like touching a
cabbage or a potato.
[*] It is considered auspicious in Thailand to have one's head
touched by a highly esteemed monk.
Accepting, giving up, letting go -- this is the way of lightness.
Wherever you're clinging there's becoming and birth right there.
There's danger right there. The Buddha taught about convention and he
taught to undo convention in the right way, and so reach Liberation.
This is freedom, not to cling to conventions. All things in this world
have a conventional reality. Having established them we should not be
fooled by them, because getting lost in them really leads to
suffering. This point concerning rules and conventions is of utmost
importance. One who can get beyond them is beyond suffering.
However, they are a characteristic of our world. Take Mr. Boonmah,
for instance; he used to be just one of the crowd but now he's been
appointed the District Commissioner. It's just a convention but it's a
convention we should respect. It's part of the world of people. If you
think, "Oh, before we were friends, we used to work at the tailor's
together," and then you go and pat him on the head in public, he'll
get angry. It's not right, he'll resent it. So we should follow the
conventions in order to avoid giving rise to resentment. It's useful
to understand convention, living in the world is just about this. Know
the right time and place, know the person.
Why is it wrong to go against conventions? It's wrong because of
people! You should be clever, knowing both convention and Liberations.
Know the right time for each. If we know how to use rules and
conventions comfortably then we are skilled. But if we try to behave
according to the higher level of reality in the wrong situation, this
is wrong. Where is it wrong? It's wrong with people's defilements,
nothing else! People all have defilements. In one situation we behave
one way, in another situation we must behave in another way. We should
know the ins and outs because we live within conventions. Problems
occur because people cling to them. If we suppose something to be,
then it is. It's there because we suppose it to be there. But if you
look closely, in the absolute sense these things don't really exist.
As I have often said, before we were laymen and now we are monks. We
lived within the convention of "layman" and now we live within the
convention of "monk." We are monks by convention, not monks through
Liberation. In the beginning we establish conventions like this, but
if a person merely ordains, this doesn't mean he overcomes
defilements. If we take a handful of sand and agree to call it salt,
does this make it salt? It is salt, but only in name, not in reality.
You couldn't use it to cook with. It's only use is within the realm of
that agreement, because there's really no salt there, only sand. It
becomes salt only through our supposing it to be so.
This word "Liberation" is itself just a convention, but it refers to
that beyond conventions. Having achieved freedom, having reached
liberation, we still have to use convention in order to refer to it as
liberation. If we didn't have convention we couldn't communicate, so
it does have its use.
For example, people have different names but they are all people
just the same. If we didn't have names to differentiate between them,
and we wanted to call out to somebody standing in a crowd, saying,
"Hey, Person! Person!", that would be useless. You couldn't say who
would answer you because they're all "person." But if you called,
"Hey, John!", then John would come, the others wouldn't answer. Names
fulfill just this need. Through them we can communicate, they provide
the basis for social behavior.
So you should know both convention and liberation. Conventions have
a use, but in reality there really isn't anything there. Even people
are non-existent! They are merely groups of elements, born of causal
conditions, growing dependent on conditions, existing for a while, or
control it. But without conventions we would have nothing to say, we'd
have no names, no practice, no work. Rules and conventions are
established to give us a language, to make things convenient, and
Take money, for example. In olden times there weren't any coins or
notes, they had no value. People used to barter goods, but those
things were difficult to keep, so they created money using coins and
notes. Perhaps in the future we'll have a new king decree that we
don't have to use paper money, we should use wax, melting it down and
pressing it into lumps. We say this is money and use it throughout the
country. Let alone wax, it may even happen that they decide to make
chicken dung the local currency -- all the other things can't be
money, just chicken dung! Then people would fight and kill each other
over chicken dung! This is the way it is. You could use many examples
to illustrate convention. What we use for money is simply a convention
that we have set up, it has its use within that convention. Having
decreed it to be money, it becomes money. But in reality, what is
money? Nobody can say. When there is a popular agreement about
something, then a convention comes about to fulfill the need. The
world is just this.
This is convention, but to get ordinary people to understand
liberation is really difficult. Our money, our house, our family, our
children and relatives are simply conventions that we have invented,
but really, seen in the light of Dhamma, they don't belong to us.
Maybe if we hear this we don't feel so good, but in reality is like
that. These things have value only through the established
conventions. If we establish that it doesn't have value, then it
doesn't have value. This is the way it is, we bring convention into
the world to fulfill a need.
Even this body is not really ours, we just suppose it to be so. It's
truly just a supposition. If you try to find a real, substantial self
within it, you can't. There are merely elements which are born,
continue for a while and then die. Everything is like this. There's no
real, true substance to it, but it's proper that we use it. It's a
tool for your use. If it breaks there is trouble, so even though it
must break, you should try your utmost to preserve it. And so we have
the four supports [*] which the Buddha taught again and again to
contemplate. They are the supports on which a monk depends to continue
his practice. As long as you live you must depend on them, but you
should understand them. Don't cling to them, giving rise to craving in
[*] The four supports -- robes, alms-food, lodgings, and
Convention and liberation are related like this continually. Even
though we use convention, don't place your trust in it as being the
truth. If you cling to it, suffering will arise. The case of right and
wrong is a good example. Some people see wrong as being right and
right as being wrong, but in the end who really knows what is right
and what is wrong? We don't know. Different people establish different
conventions about what's right and what's wrong, but the Buddha took
suffering as his guide-line. If you want to argue about it there's no
end to it. One says, "right," another says, "wrong." One says "wrong,"
another says "right." In truth we don't really know right and wrong at
all! But at a useful, practical level, we can say that right is not to
harm oneself and not to harm others. This way fulfills a use.
So, after all, both rules and conventions and liberation are simply
dhammas. One is higher than the other, but they go hand in hand. There
is no way that we can guarantee that anything is definitely like this
or like that, so the Buddha said to just leave it be. Leave it be as
uncertain. However much you like it or dislike it, you should
understand it as uncertain.
Regardless of time and place, the whole practice of Dhamma comes to
completion at the place where there is nothing. It's the place of
surrender, of emptiness, of laying down the burden. This is the
finish. It's not like the person who says, "Why is the flag fluttering
in the wind? I say it's because of the wind." Another person say's
it's because of the flag. The other retorts that it's because of the
wind. There's no end to this! The same as the old riddle, "Which came
first, the chicken or the egg?" There's no way to reach a conclusion,
this is just Nature.
All these things we say are merely conventions, we establish them
ourselves. If you know these things with wisdom then you'll know
impermanence, unsatisfactoriness and not-self. This is the outlook
which leads to enlightenment.
You know, training and teaching people with varying levels of
understanding is really difficult. Some people have certain ideas, you
tell them something and they don't believe you. You tell them the
truth and they say it's not true. "I'm right, you're wrong..." There's
no end to this. If you don't let go there will be suffering. I've told
you before about the four men who go into the forest. They hear a
chicken crowing, "Kak-ka-dehhh!" One of them wonders, "Is that a
rooster or a hen?" Three of them say together, "It's a hen," but the
other doesn't agree, he insists it's a rooster. "How could a hen crow
like that?" he asks. They retort, "Well, it has a mouth, hasn't it?"
They argue till the tears fall, really getting upset over it, but in
the end they're all wrong. Whether you say a hen or a rooster, they're
only names. We establish these conventions, saying a rooster is like
this, a hen is like that; a rooster cries like this, a hen cries like
that...and this is how we get stuck in the world! Remember this!
Actually, if you just say that really there's no hen and no rooster
then that's the end of it. In the field of conventional reality one
side is right and the other side it wrong, but there will never be
complete agreement. Arguing till the tears fall has no use!
The Buddha taught not to cling. How do we practice non-clinging? We
practice simply to give up clinging, but this non-clinging is very
difficult to understand. It takes keen wisdom to investigate and
penetrate this, to really achieve non-clinging. When you think about
it, whether people are happy or sad, content or discontent, doesn't
depend on their having little or having much -- it depends on wisdom.
All distress can be transcended only through wisdom, through seeing
the truth of things.
So the Buddha exhorted us to investigate, to contemplate. This
"contemplation" means simply to try to solve these problems correctly.
This is our practice. Like birth, old age, sickness and death -- they
are the most natural and common of occurrences. The Buddha taught to
contemplate birth, old age, sickness and death, but some people don't
understand this. "What is there to contemplate?" they say. They're
born but they don't know birth, they will die but they don't know
A person who investigates these things repeatedly will see. Having
seen he will gradually solve his problems. Even if he still has
clinging, if he has wisdom and sees that old age, sickness and death
are the way of Nature, then he will be able to relieve suffering. We
study the Dhamma simply for this -- to cure suffering. There isn't
really much as the basis of Buddhism, there's just the birth and death
of suffering, and this the Buddha called the truth. Birth is
suffering, old age is suffering, sickness is suffering and death is
suffering. People don't see this suffering as the truth. If we know
truth, then we know suffering.
This pride in personal opinions, these arguments, they have no end.
In order to put our minds at rest, to find peace, we should
contemplate our past, the present, and the things which are in store
for us. Like birth, old age, sickness and death. What can we do to
avoid being plagued by these? Even though we may still have a little
worry, if we investigate till we know according to the truth, all
suffering will abate, we will no longer cling to it.
* * *
"...The worldly way is to do things for a reason, to get some
return, but in Buddhism we do things without any gaining idea..
If we don't want anything at all, what will we get? We don't get
anything! Whatever you get is just a cause for suffering, so we
practice not getting anything... Just make the mind peaceful and
have done with it!..."
* * *
We hear some parts of the teachings and can't really understand them.
We think they shouldn't be the way they are, so we don't follow them,
but really there is a reason to all the teachings. Maybe it seems that
things shouldn't be that way, but they are. At first I didn't even
believe in sitting meditation. I couldn't see what use it would be to
just sit with your eyes closed. And walking meditation...walk from
this tree, turn around and walk back again... "Why bother?" I thought,
"What's the use of all that walking?" I thought like that, but
actually walking and sitting meditation are of great use.
Some people's tendencies make them prefer walking meditation, others
prefer sitting, but you can't do without either of them. In the
scriptures they talk about the four postures: standing, walking,
sitting and lying. We live with these four postures. We may prefer one
to the other, but we must use all four.
They say to make these four postures even, to make the practice even
in all postures. At first I couldn't figure out what this meant, to
make them even. Maybe it means we sleep for two hours, then stand for
two hours, then walk for two hours...maybe that's it? I tried it --
couldn't do it, it was impossible! That's not what it meant to make
the postures even. "Making the postures even" refers to the mind, to
our awareness. That is, to make the mind give rise to wisdom, to
illumine the mind. This wisdom of ours must be present in all
postures; we must know, or understand, constantly. Standing, walking,
sitting or lying, we know all mental states as impermanent,
unsatisfactory and not-self. Making the postures even in this way can
be done, it is possible. Whether like or dislike are present in the
mind we don't forget our practice, we are aware.
If we just focus our attention on the mind constantly then we have
the gist of the practice. Whether we experience mental states which
the world knows as good or bad we don't forget ourselves, we don't get
lost in good or bad. We just go straight. Making the postures constant
in this way is possible. If we have constancy in our practice and we
are praised, then it's simply praise; if we are blamed, then it's just
blame. We don't get high or low over it, we stay right here. Why?
Because we see the danger in all those things, we see their results.
We are constantly aware of the danger in both praise and blame.
Normally, if we have a good mood the mind is good also, we see them,
as the same thing; if we have a bad mood the mind goes bad as well, we
don't like it. This is the way it is, this is uneven practice.
If we have constancy just to the extent of knowing our moods, and
knowing we're clinging to them, this is better already. That is, we
have awareness, we know what's going on, but we still can't let go. We
see ourselves clinging to good and bad, and we know it. We cling to
good and know it's still not right practice, but we still can't let
go. This is 50% or 70% of the practice already. There still isn't
release but we know that if we could let go that would be the way to
peace. We keep going like that, seeing the equally harmful
consequences of all our likes and dislikes, of praise and blame,
continuously. Whatever there is, the mind is constant in this way.
But for worldly people, if they get blamed or criticized they get
really upset. If they get praised it cheers them up, they say it's
good and get really happy over it. If we know the truth of our various
moods, if we know the consequences of clinging to praise and blame,
the danger of clinging to anything at all, we will become sensitive to
our moods. We will know that clinging to them really causes suffering.
We see this suffering, and we see our very clinging as the cause of
that suffering. We begin to see the consequences of grabbing and
clinging to good and bad, because we've grasped them and seen the
result before -- no real happiness. So now we look for the way to let
Where is this "way to let go"? In Buddhism we say "Don't cling to
anything." We never stop hearing about this "don't cling to anything!"
This means to hold, but not to cling. Like this flashlight. We think,
"What is this?" So we pick it up, "Oh, it's a flashlight," then we put
it down again. We hold things in this way. If we didn't hold anything
at all, what could we do? We couldn't walk meditation or do anything,
so we must hold things first. It's wanting, yes, that's true, but
later on it leads to //parami// (virtue or perfection). Like wanting
to come here, for instance... Venerable Jagaro [*] came to Wat Pah
Pong. He had to want to come first. If he hadn't felt that he wanted
to come he wouldn't have come. For anybody it's the same, they come
here because of wanting. But when wanting arises don't cling to it! So
you come, and then you go back...What is this? We pick it up, look at
it and see, "Oh, it's a flashlight," then we put it down. This is
called holding but not clinging, we let go. We know and then we let
go. To put it simply we say just this, "Know, then let go." Keep
looking and letting go. "This, they say is good; this, they say is not
good" ...know, and then let go. Good and bad, we know it all, but we
let it go. We don't foolishly cling to things, but we "hold" them with
wisdom. Practicing in this "posture" can be constant. You must be
constant like this. Make the mind know in this way, let wisdom arise.
When the mind has wisdom, what else is there to look for?
[*] Venerable Jagaro, the Australian abbot of Wat Pah Nanachat
at that time, who brought his party of monks and laypeople
to see Ajahn Chah.
We should reflect on what we are doing here. For what reason are we
living here, what are we working for? In the world they work for this
or that reward, but the monks teach something a little deeper than
that. Whatever we do, we ask for no return. We work for no rewards.
Worldly people work because they want this or that, because they want
some gain or other, but the Buddha taught to work just in order to
work, we don't ask for anything beyond that. If you do something just
to get some return it'll cause suffering. Try it out for yourself! You
want to make your mind peaceful so you sit down and try to make it
peaceful -- you'll suffer! Try it. Our way is more refined. We do, and
then let go; do, and then let go.
Look at the brahmin who makes a sacrifice: he has some desire in
mind, so he makes a sacrifice. Those actions of his won't help him
transcend suffering because he's acting on desire. In the beginning we
practice with some desire in mind; we practice on and on, but we don't
attain our desire. So we practice until we reach a point where we're
practicing for no return, we're practicing in order to let go. This is
something we must see for ourselves, it's very deep. Maybe we practice
because we want to go to //Nirvana// -- right there, you won't get to
//Nirvana//! It's natural to want peace, but it's not really correct.
We must practice without wanting anything at all. If we don't want
anything at all, what will we get? We don't get anything! Whatever you
get is just a cause for suffering, so we practice not getting
Just this is called "making the mind empty." It's empty but there is
still doing. This emptiness is something people don't usually
understand, but those who reach it see the value of knowing it. It's
not the emptiness of not having anything, it's emptiness within the
things that are here. Like this flashlight: we should see this
flashlight as empty, because of the flashlight there is emptiness.
It's not the emptiness where we can't see anything, it's not like
that. People who understand like that have got it all wrong. You must
understand emptiness within the things are here.
Those who are still practicing because of some gaining idea are like
the brahmin who makes a sacrifice just to fulfill some wish. Like the
people who come to see me to be sprinkled with "holy water." When I
ask them, "Why do you want this 'holy water'?" they say, "We want to
live happily and comfortably and not get sick." There! They'll never
transcend suffering that way. The worldly way is to do things for a
reason, to get some return, but in Buddhism we do things without any
gaining idea. The world has to understand things in terms of cause and
effect, but the Buddha teaches us to go above cause, beyond effect; to
go above birth and beyond death; to go above happiness and beyond
suffering. Think about it...there's nowhere to stay. We people live in
a "home." To leave home and go where there is no home...we don't know
how to do it, because we've always lived with becoming, with clinging.
If we can't cling we don't know what to do.
So most people don't want to go to //Nirvana//, there's nothing
there; nothing at all. Look at the roof and the floor here. The upper
extreme is the roof, that's an "abiding." The lower extreme is the
floor, and that's another "abiding." But in the empty space between
the floor and the roof there's nowhere stand. One could stand on the
roof, or stand on the floor, but not on that empty space. Where there
is no abiding, that's where there's emptiness, and, to put it bluntly,
we say that //Nirvana// is this emptiness. People hear this and they
back up a bit, they don't want to go. They're afraid they won't see
their children or relatives.
This is why, when we bless the laypeople, we say "May you have long
life, beauty, happiness and strength." This makes them really happy,
"//Sadhu//!" [*] they all say. They like these things. If you start
talking about emptiness they don't want it, they're attached to
abiding. But have you ever seen a very old person with a beautiful
complexion? Have you ever seen an old person with a lot of strength,
or a lot of happiness?... No... But we say, "Long life, beauty,
happiness and strength" and they're all really pleased, every single
one says "//Sadhu//!" This is like the brahmin who makes oblations to
achieve some wish. In our practice we don't "make oblations," we don't
practice in order to get some return. We don't want anything. If we
still want something then there is still something there. Just make
the mind peaceful and have done with it! But if I talk like this you
may not be very comfortable, because you want to be "born" again.
[*] //Sadhu// is the traditional Pali word used to acknowledge a
blessing, dhamma teaching, etc. It means "it is well."
So all you lay practitioners should get close to the monks and see
their practice. To be close to the monks means to be close to the
Buddha, to be close to his Dhamma. The Buddha said, "Ananda, practice
a lot, develop your practice! Whoever sees the Dhamma sees me, and
whoever sees me sees the Dhamma." Where is the Buddha? We may think
the Buddha has been and gone, but the Buddha is the Dhamma, the Truth.
Some people like to say, "Oh, if I was born in the time the Buddha I
would go to //Nirvana//." Here, stupid people talk like this. The
Buddha is still here. The Buddha is truth. Regardless of whoever is
born or dies, the truth is still here. The truth never departs from
the world, it's there all the time. Whether a Buddha is born or not,
whether someone knows it or not, the truth is still there. So we
should get close to the Buddha, we should come within and find the
Dhamma. When we reach the Dhamma we will reach the Buddha; seeing the
Dhamma we will see the Buddha and all doubts will dissolve.
To put it simply, it's like Teacher Choo. [*] At first he wasn't a
teacher, he was just Mr. Choo. When he studied and passed the
necessary grades he became a teacher, and became known as Teacher
Choo. How did he become a teacher? Through studying the required
things, thus allowing Mr. Choo to become Teacher Choo. When Teacher
Choo dies, the study to become a teacher still remains, and whoever
studies it will become a teacher. That course of study to become a
teacher doesn't disappear anywhere, just like the Truth, the knowing
of which enabled the Buddha to become the Buddha. So the Buddha is
still here. Whoever practices and sees the Dhamma sees the Buddha.
These days people have got it all wrong, they don't know where the
Buddha is. They say, "If I was born in the time of the Buddha I would
have become a disciple of his and become enlightened." That's just
foolishness. You should understand this.
[*] In Thailand the word "Teacher" is used as a title of address
much like "Doctor" is used in English. "Teacher Choo" is one
of four elderly local residents who came to spend the rains
retreat at Wat Pah Nanachat, to whom the latter part of this
talk was addressed.
Don't go thinking that at the end of the rains retreat you'll
disrobe. Don't think like that! In an instant an evil thought can
arise in the mind, you could kill somebody. In the same way, it only
takes a split-second for good to flash into the mind, and you're there
already. Don't think that you have to ordain for a long time to be
able to meditate. Where the right practice lies is in the instant we
make kamma. In a flash an evil thought arises...before you know it
you've committed some really heavy kamma. And in the same way, all the
disciples of the Buddha practiced for a long time, but the time they
attained enlightenment was merely one thought moment. So don't be
heedless, even in minor things. Try hard, try to get close to the
monks, contemplate things and then you'll know about monks. Well,
that's enough, huh? It must be getting late now, some people are
getting sleepy. The Buddha said not to teach Dhamma to sleepy people.
* * *
"...Our discontent is due to wrong view. Because we don't
exercise sense restraint we blame our suffering on externals...
The right abiding place for monks, the place of coolness, is
just Right View itself. We shouldn't look for anything else..."
* * *
Right View -- The Place of Coolness
The practice of Dhamma goes against our habits, the truth goes against
our desires, so there is difficulty in the practice. Some things which
we understand as wrong may be right, while the things we take to be
right may be wrong. Why is this? Because our minds are in darkness, we
don't clearly see the Truth. We don't really know anything and so are
fooled by people's lies. They point out what is right as being wrong
and we believe it; that which is wrong, they say is right, and we
believe that. This is because we are not yet our own masters. Our
moods lie to us constantly. We shouldn't take this mind and its
opinions as our guide, because it doesn't know the truth.
Some people don't want to listen to others at all, but this is not
the way of a man of wisdom. A wise man listens to everything. One who
listens to Dhamma must listen just the same, whether he likes it or
not, and not blindly believe or disbelieve. He must stay at the
half-way mark, the middle point, and not be heedless. He just listens
and then contemplates, giving rise to the right results accordingly.
A wise man should contemplate and see the cause and effect for
himself before he believes what he hears. Even if the teacher speaks
the truth, don't just believe it, because you don't yet know the truth
of it for yourself.
It's the same for all of us, including myself. I've practiced before
you, I've seen many lies before. For instance, "This practice is
really difficult, really hard." Why is the practice difficult? It's
just because we think wrongly, we have wrong view.
Previously I lived together with other monks, but I didn't feel
right. I ran away to the forests and mountains, fleeing the crowd, the
monks and novices. I thought that they weren't like me, they didn't
practice as hard as I did. They were sloppy. That person was like
this, this person was like that. This was something that really put me
in turmoil, it was the cause for my continually running away. But
whether I lived alone or with others I still had no peace. On my own I
wasn't content, in a large group I wasn't content. I thought this
discontent was due to my companions, due to my moods, due to my living
place, the food, the weather, due to this and that. I was constantly
searching for something to suit my mind.
As a //dhutanga// [*] monk, I went traveling, but things still
weren't right. So I contemplated, "What can I do to make things right?
What can I do?" Living with a lot of people I was dissatisfied, with
few people I was dissatisfied. For what reason? I just couldn't see
it. Why was I dissatisfied? Because I had wrong view, just that;
because I still clung to the wrong Dhamma. Wherever I went I was
discontent, thinking, "Here is no good, there is no good..." on and on
like that. I blamed others. I blamed the weather, heat and cold, I
blamed everything! Just like a mad dog. It bites whatever it meets,
because it's mad. When the mind is like this our practice is never
settled. Today we feel good, tomorrow no good. It's like that all the
time. We don't attain contentment or peace.
[*] //Dhutanga// properly means "ascetic." A Dhutanga monk is
one who keeps some of the thirteen ascetic practices allowed
by the Buddha. Dhutanga monks traditionally spend time
traveling (often on foot) in search of quiet places for
meditation, other teachers, or simply as a practice in
The Buddha once saw a jackal, a wild dog, run out of the forest
where he was staying. It stood still for a while, then it ran into the
underbrush, and them out again. Then it ran into a tree hollow, then
out again. Then it went into a cave, only to run out again. One minute
it stood, the next it ran, then it lay down, then it jumped up...That
jackal had mange. When it stood the mange would eat into its skin, so
it would run. Running it was still uncomfortable, so it would lie
down. Then it would jump up again, running into the underbrush, the
tree hollow, never staying still.
The Buddha said, "Monks, did you see that jackal this afternoon?
Standing it suffered, running it suffered, sitting it suffered, lying
down it suffered. In the underbrush, a tree hollow or a cave, it
suffered. It blamed standing for its discomfort, it blamed sitting, it
blamed running and lying down; it blamed the tree, the underbrush and
the cave. In fact the problem was with none of those things. That
jackal had mange. The problem was with the mange."
We monks are just the same as that jackal. Our discontent is due to
wrong view. Because we don't exercise sense restraint we blame our
suffering on externals. Whether we live at Wat Pah Pong, in America or
in London we aren't satisfied. Going to live at Bung Wai or any of the
other branch monasteries we're still not satisfied. Why not? Because
we still have wrong view within us, just that! Wherever we go we
But just as that dog, if the mange is cured, is content wherever it
goes, so it is for us. I reflect on this often, and I teach you this
often, because it's very important. If we know the truth of our
various moods we arrive at contentment. Whether it's hot or cold we
are satisfied, with many people or with few people we are satisfied.
Contentment doesn't depend on how many people we are with, it comes
only from right view. If we have right view then wherever we stay we
But most of us have wrong view. It's just like a maggot! A maggot's
living place is filthy, its food is filthy...but they suit the maggot.
If you take a stick and brush it away from its lump of dung, it'll
struggle to crawl back into it. It's the same when the Ajahn teaches
us to see rightly. We resist, it makes us feel uneasy. We run back to
our "lump of dung" because that's where we feel at home. We're all
like this. If we don't see the harmful consequences of all our wrong
views then we can't leave them, the practice is difficult. So we
should listen. There's nothing else to the practice.
If we have right view wherever we go we are content. I have
practiced and seen this already. These days there are many monks,
novices and laypeople coming to see me. If I still didn't know, if I
still had wrong view, I'd be dead by now! The right abiding place for
monks, the place of coolness, is just right view itself. We shouldn't
look for anything else.
So even though you may be unhappy it doesn't matter, that
unhappiness is uncertain. Is that unhappiness your "self"? Is there
any substance to it? Is it real? I don't see it as being real at all.
Unhappiness is merely a flash of feeling which appears and then is
gone. Happiness is the same. Is there a consistency to happiness? Is
it truly an entity? It's simply a feeling that flashes suddenly and is
gone. There! It's born and then it dies. Love just flashes up for a
moment and then disappears. Where is the consistency in love, or hate,
or resentment? In truth there is no substantial entity there, they are
merely impressions which flare up in the mind and then die. They
deceive us constantly, we find no certainty anywhere. Just as the
Buddha said, when unhappiness arises it stays for a while, then
disappears. When unhappiness disappears, happiness arises and lingers
for a while and then dies. When happiness disappears, unhappiness
arises again...on and on like this.
In the end we can say only this -- apart from the birth, the life
and the death of suffering, there is nothing. There is just this. But
we who are ignorant run and grab it constantly. We never see the truth
of it, that there's simply this continual change. If we understand
this then we don't need to think very much, but we have much wisdom.
If we don't know it, then we will have more thinking than wisdom --
and maybe no wisdom at all! It's not until we truly see the harmful
results of our actions that we can give them up. Likewise, it's not
until we see the real benefits of practice that we can follow it, and
begin working to make the mind "good."
If we cut a log of wood and throw it into the river, and that log
doesn't sink or rot, or run aground on either of the banks of the
river, that log will definitely reach the sea. Our practice is
comparable to this. If you practice according to the path laid down by
the Buddha, following it straightly, you will transcend two things.
What two things? Just those two extremes that the Buddha said were not
the path of a true meditator -- indulgence in pleasure and indulgence
in pain. These are the two banks of the river. One of the banks of
that river is hate, the other is love. Or you can say that one bank is
happiness, the other unhappiness. The "log" is this mind. As it "flows
down the river" it will experience happiness and unhappiness. If the
mind doesn't cling to that happiness or unhappiness it will reach the
"ocean" of //Nirvana//. You should see that there is nothing other
than happiness and unhappiness arising and disappearing. If you don't
"run aground" on these things then you are on the path of a true
This is the teaching of the Buddha. Happiness, unhappiness, love and
hate are simply established in Nature according to the constant law of
nature. The wise person doesn't follow or encourage them, he doesn't
cling to them. This is the mind which lets go of indulgence in
pleasure and indulgence in pain. It is the right practice. Just as
that log of wood will eventually flow to the sea, so will the mind
which doesn't attach to these two extremes inevitably attain peace.
* * *
...Do you know where it will end? Or will you just keep on learning
like this? ... Or is there an end to it?... That's okay but it's the
external study, not the internal study. For the internal study you
have to study these eyes, these ears, this nose, this tongue, this
body and this mind. This is the real study. The study of books is just
the external study, it's really hard to get it finished.
When the eye sees form what sort of things happens? When ear, nose,
and tongue experience sounds, smells and tastes, what takes place?
When the body and mind come into contact with touches and mental
states, what reactions take place? Are there still greed, aversion and
delusion there? Do we get lost in forms, sounds, smells, tastes,
textures and moods? This is the internal study. It has a point of
If we study but don't practice we won't get any results. It's like a
person who raises cows. In the morning he takes the cow out to eat
grass, in the evening he brings it back to its pen -- but he never
drinks the cow's milk. Study is alright, but don't let it be like
this. You should raise the cow and drink it's milk too. You must study
and practice as well to get the best results.
Here, I'll explain it further. It's like a person who raises
chickens, but he doesn't get the eggs. All he gets is the chicken
dung! This is what I tell people who raise chickens back home! Watch
out you don't become like that! This means we study the scriptures but
we don't know how to let go of defilements, we don't know how to
"push" greed, aversion and delusion from our mind. Study without
practice, without this "giving up," brings no results. This is why I
compare it to someone who raises chickens but doesn't collect the
eggs, he just collects the dung. It's the same thing.
Because of this, the Buddha wanted us to study the scriptures, and
then to give up evil actions through body, speech and mind; to develop
goodness in our deeds, speech and thoughts. The real worth of mankind
will come to fruition through our deeds, speech and thoughts. But if
we only talk well, without acting accordingly, it's not yet complete.
Or if we do good deeds but the mind is still not good, this is still
not complete. The Buddha taught to develop fine deeds, fine speech and
fine thoughts. This is the treasure of mankind. The study and the
practice must both be good.
The Eightfold Path of the Buddha, the path of practice, has eight
factors. These eight factors are nothing other than this very body:
two eyes, two ears, two nostrils, one tongue and one body. This is the
path. And the mind is the one who follows the path. Therefore both the
study and the practice exist in our body, speech and mind.
Have you ever seen scriptures which teach about anything other than
the body, the speech and the mind? The scriptures only teach about
this; nothing else. Defilements are born here. If you know them they
die right here. So you should understand that the practice and the
study both exist right here. If we study just this much we can know
everything. It's like our speech: to speak one word of Truth is better
than a lifetime of wrong speech. Do you understand? One who studies
and doesn't practice is like a ladle of soup pot. It's in the pot
every day but it doesn't know the flavor of the soup. If you don't
practice, even if you study till the day you die, you won't know //the
taste of Freedom//!
* * * * * * * *
Notes on selected talks
1. //On meditation// -- an informal talk given in the Northeastern
dialect, taken from an unidentified tape.
2. //The Path in Harmony// -- a composite of two talks given in
England in 1979 and 1977 respectively.
3. //The Middle Way Within// -- given in the Northeastern dialect to
an assembly of monks and laypeople in 1970.
4. //The Peace Beyond// -- a condensed version of a talk given to the
Chief Privy Councillor of Thailand, Mr. Sanya Dharmasakti, at Wat
Nong Pah Pong, 1978.
5. //Opening the Dhamma Eye// -- given at Wat Nong Pah Pong to the
assembly of monks and novices in October, 1968.
6. //Convention and Liberation// -- an informal talk given in the
Northeastern dialect, taken from an identified tape.
7. //No Abiding// -- a talk given to the monks, novices and laypeople
of Wat Pah Nanachat on a visit to Wat Nong Pah Pong during the
rains of 1980.
* * * * * * * *
About the Author
Venerable Ajahn Chah (Pra Bhodinyana Thera) was born into a typical
farming family in Bahn Gor village, in the province of Ubol
Rachathani, N.E. Thailand, in 1917. He lived the first part of his
life as any other youngster in rural Thailand, and, following the
custom, took ordination as a novice in the local village Wat for a
number of years, where he learned to read and write, in addition to
some basic Buddhist teachings. After a number of years he returned to
the lay life to help his parents, but, feeling an attraction to the
monastic life, at the age of twenty he again entered a Wat, this time
for higher ordination as a //bhikkhu//, or Buddhist monk.
He spent the first few years of his //bhikkhu// life studying
scriptures and learning Pali, but the death of his father awakened him
to the transience of life and instilled in him a desire to find the
real essence of the Buddha's teaching. He began to travel to other
monasteries, studying the monastic discipline in detail and spending a
very brief but significant time with Venerable Ajahn Mun, the most
outstanding meditation Master of the ascetic, forest-dwelling
tradition. Following his time with Venerable Ajahn Mun, he spent a
number of years traveling around Thailand, spending his time in
forests and charnel grounds, ideal places for developing meditation
At length he came within the vicinity of the village of his birth,
and when word got around that he was in the area, he was invited to
set up a monastery at the //Pa Pong// forest, a place at that time
reputed to be the habitat of wild animals and ghosts. Venerable Ajahn
Chah's impeccable approach to meditation, or //Dhamma// practice, and
his simple, direct style of teaching, with the emphasis on practical
application and a balanced attitude, began to attract a large
following of monks and laypeople.
In 1966 the first westerner came to stay at //Wat Pa Pong//,
Venerable Sumedho Bhikkhu. From that time on, the number of foreign
people who came to Ajahn Chah began to steadily increase, until in
1975, the first branch monastery for western and other non-Thai
nationals, //Wat Pa Nanachat//, was set up with Venerable Ajahn
Sumedho as the abbot.
In 1976 Venerable Ajahn Chah was invited to England together with
Ajahn Sumedho, the outcome of which was eventually the establishment
of the first branch monastery of Wat Pa Pong outside of Thailand.
Since then, further branch monasteries have been established in
England, Switzerland, Australia, New Zealand and Italy.
In 1980 Venerable Ajahn Chah began to feel more acutely the symptoms
of dizziness and memory lapse which he had been feeling for some
years. This led to an operation in 1981, which, however, failed to
reverse the onset of the paralysis which eventually rendered him
completely bedridden and unable to speak. However this did not stop
the growth of monks and laypeople who came to practice at his
monastery, for whom the teachings of Ajahn Chah are a constant guide
* * * * * * * *
TITLE OF WORK: A Taste of Freedom
AUTHOR: Ajahn Chah (1917-1992)
AUTHOR'S ADDRESS: N/A
PUBLISHER'S ADDRESS: The Abbot, Wat Pah Nanachat, Bungwai,
Warinchumrab, Ubolrajadhani 34110, Thailand
COPYRIGHT HOLDER: The Sangha, Bung Wai Forest Monastery
DATE OF PUBLICATION: 1991
RIGHTS AND RESTRICTIONS: See paragraph below
DATE OF DHARMANET DISTRIBUTION: October, 1995
ORIGIN SITE: Access to Insight BBS, Barre MA * (508) 433-5847 (96:903/1)
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