Introduction



Suppose you were to go to Asia in the 1980s in search of living teachings of the Buddha, to discover if there are still monks and nuns practicing a life of simplicity and meditation, supported by alms-food, and dwelling in the forest. Perhaps you had read descriptions of the Buddha himself wondering with his monks in the forests of India, inviting men and women of good families to join him in cultivating wisdom and universal compassion, inviting them to live the simple life of a mendicant, to dedicate themselves to inner calm and awareness. Would you find this way of life alive today, twenty-five centuries later? And would its teachings still be applicable and relevant for-our modem society, our modem minds?



You would land at a modem airport near Bangkok or Colombo or Rangoon. In your taxi you would drive through Asian city streets, passing cars, crowded busses, sidewalk vendors of tropical fruits. Every few blocks you would see the golden pagoda or spire of an urban Buddhist temple. But these are not the temples you have come to search for. They contain monks and nuns who study the ancient texts, who can chant and preach, and from this they teach. But to find the simple life of dwelling in the forest, the meditative living with robe and bowl, as old as the Buddha himself, you would have to leave the cities and their temples far behind. If it were Thailand, the country with the greatest number of monasteries and monks, you would board the train at busy Hualampong station, leaving early in the morning for the provinces of the far south or northeast.



The first hour's journey would take you clear of the urban sprawl, beyond the houses, businesses, and shanties backed up along the railway track. Vast plains of central Thailand would roll by, the green rice bowl of Southeast Asia. Mile after mile of paddy fields, checkerboarded into lots by small dikes between fields and rhythmically divided by canals and waterways. On the horizon of this sea of rice, every few miles in four or five directions you would see islands-dense clusters of palm and banana trees. If your train rolled close enough to one of these palm islands, you would see the glint of an orange-roofed monastery and cluster of wooden houses on stilts that make up a Southeast Asian village.



Every settled village, whether with five hundred or two thousand residents, has at least one monastery. It serves as the place for prayer, for ceremony, as the meeting hall, and for many years also served as the village school. Here is the place where most young men of the village will ordain at age twenty, for one year or three months, to learn enough of the ways of the Buddha to "ripen" into mature members of their society. The monastery is probably run by a few older, simple, and well-meaning monks who have studied some of the classic texts and know enough of ceremonies and of the basic teachings to serve as village priests. This monastery is an integral and beautiful part of village life, but it is not the temple you have come to search for.



Your train heads north toward the ancient capitol of Auddhaya, filled with the ruins of magnificent temples and 'broken palaces that were sacked centuries ago in the periodic wars with neighboring kingdoms. The spirit of these magnificent ruins remains in the enormous stone Buddhas, imperturbably weathering the centuries.



Now your train turns east for the long journey toward the Lao border, across the reaches of the Korat Plateau. Hour after hour the land passes. Still you see rice paddies and villages, but they gradually become sparser and poorer. The canals and lush gardens of Central Thai villages, mango trees, and tropical greenery turn into a simpler landscape. Houses are smaller. Village monasteries still gleam, but they too are smaller and simpler. Here an older, more self-sufficient way of life is preserved. You can see women weaving hand loomed blankets on their porches, while rice farmers work and children tend the water buffalo in wet gullies alongside the railroad tracks.



The rural countryside in these lesser developed provinces holds much of what remains of the tradition of forest monks and nuns. It still has regions of forest and jungle, small thickly covered mountains, and unsettled borderlands. And for many centuries it has supported forest monks and monasteries dedicated to the preservation and realization of the enlightenment of the Buddha. For the most part these monks do not function as village priests, nor do they teach school, nor study and preserve the language of the ancient written scriptures. Their intent is to live fully and realize in their own hearts and minds the insight and inner peace taught by the Buddha.



If you left the train and made your way by bus or hired car down some dirt road to such a monastery, one of dozens in northeast Thailand, what would you find? Would the teachings and way of practice be relevant in the 1980s? Would the insight and awareness training address the needs of one coming from a modern and complex society?



You would discover that many Westerners had come before you. Since 1965 hundreds of Europeans and Americans like you have come to visit and learn in the forest. Some came to study for short periods and then returned home to integrate what they learned into their household life. Some came to train more thoroughly as monks for one, two, or more years and then return home. Another group found life in the forest to be a rich and compelling way to live, and these remain in monasteries to this day.



For each of these groups the teachings have spoken directly to their hearts and minds, offering them a wise and conscious way to live. At first the way may seem almost easy, deceptively simple. But upon attempting to put the Buddha's way into practice, one discovers that it is not so easy. Yet, despite the effort it takes, these people feel that nothing could be more valuable than to discover the Dharma* or truth in one's own life.



From the moment of your entry into a forest monastery like Wat Ba Pong, the spirit of practice is evident. There is the stillness of trees rustling and the quiet movement of monks doing chores or mindful walking meditation. The whole monastery is spread over a hundred acres, divided into two sections form monks and nuns. The simple unadorned cottages are individually nestled in small forest clearings so that there are trees and silent paths between them. In the central area of the Wat are the main teaching hall, dining area, and chapel for ordination. The whole forest setting supports the atmosphere of simplicity and renunciation. You feel that you have finally arrived.



The monks who live in those monasteries have chosen to follow this uncomplicated and disciplined way of practice called dhudanga. The tradition of forest monks who voluntarily choose to follow a more austere way of life dates back to the Buddha, who allowed a supplementary code of thirteen special precepts, limiting the robes, food, and dwellings of monks. At the heart of this life style are few possessions, much meditation, and a once-daily round of alms-food begging. This way of life spread with the rest of Buddhism into the thick forests of Burma, Thailand, and Laos, places filled with caves and wild terrain, ideal for such intensive practice. These ascetic monks have traditionally been wanderers, living singly or in small groups, moving from one rural area to another, and using handmade cloth umbrella tents hung from trees as their temporary abode. Practical Dharma teachings from one of the greatest forest monasteries, Wat Ba Pong, and its master Achaan Chah have been translated and compiled and are offered to the West in this book.



Achaan Chah and his teachers, Achaan Tong Rath and Achaan Mum, themselves spent many years walking and meditating in these forests to develop their practice. From them and other forest teachers has come a legacy of immediate and powerful Dharma teachings, directed not toward ritual Buddhism or scholastic learning, but toward those who wish to purify their hearts and vision by actually living the teachings of the Buddha.



As great masters emerged in this forest tradition, laypersons and monks sought them out for teaching advice. Often, to make themselves available, these teachers would stop wandering and settle in a particular forest area where a dhudanga monastery would grow up around them. As population pressures have increased in this century, fewer forest areas are left for wanderers, and these forest monastery preserves of past and current masters are becoming the dwelling place of most ascetic and practice-oriented monks.



Wat Ba Pong monastery developed when Achaan Chah, after years of travel and meditation study, returned to settle in a thick forest grove near the village of his birth. The grove, uninhabited by humans, was known as a place of cobras, tigers, and ghosts-the perfect location for a forest monk, according to Achaan Chah. Around him a large monastery grew up.



From its beginnings as a few thatched huts in the forest, Wat Ba Pong has developed into one of the largest and best-run monasteries in Thailand. As Achaan Chah's skill and fame as a teacher have become widespread, the number of visitors and devotees has rapidly increased. In response to requests from devotees throughout Thailand, over fifty branch monasteries under the guidance of abbots trained by Achaan Chah have also been opened, including one near Wat Ba Pong especially designed for the many Western students who have come to seek Achaan Chah's guidance in the teachings. In recent years several branch monasteries and associated centers have been opened in Western countries as well, most notably the large forest Wat at Chithurst, England, run by Abbot Sumedho, Achaan Chah's Senior Western disciple.



Achaan Chah's teachings contain what has been called "the heart of Buddhist meditation," the direct and simple practices of calming the heart and opening the mind to true insight. This way of mindfulness or insight meditation has become a rapidly growing form of Buddhist practice in the West. Taught by monks and laypeople who have themselves studied in forest monasteries or intensive retreat centers, it provides a universal and direct way of training our bodies, our hearts, and our minds. It can teach us how to deal with greed and fear and sorrow and how to learn a path of patience, wisdom, and selfless compassion. This book is meant to provide guidance and counsel for those who wish to practice.



Achaan Chah's own practice started early in life and developed through years of wandering and austerity under the guidance of several great forest masters. He laughingly recalls how, even as a child, he wanted to play monk when the other children played house and would come to them with a make believe begging bowl asking for candy and sweets. But his own practice was difficult, he relates, and the qualities of patience and endurance he developed are central to the teachings he gives his own disciples. A great inspiration for Achaan Chah as a young monk came from sitting at his father's sickbed during the last days and weeks of his father's life, directly facing the fact of decay and death. 'When we don't understand death," Achaan Chah teaches, "life can be very confusing." Because of this experience, Achaan Chah was strongly motivated in his practice to discover the causes of our worldly suffering and the source of peace and freedom taught by the Buddha. By his own account, he held nothing back, giving up everything



for the Dharma, the truth. He encountered much hardship and suffering, including doubts of all kinds as well as physical illness and pain. Yet he stayed in the forest and sat-sat and watched-and, even though there were days when he could do nothing but cry, he brought what he calls a quality of daring to his practice. Out of this daring eventually grew wisdom, a joyful spirit, and an uncanny ability to help others.



Given spontaneously in the Thai and Lao languages, the teachings in this book reflect this joyful spirit of practice. Their flavor is clearly monastic, oriented to the community of men who have renounced the household life to join Achaan Chah in the forest. Hence frequent reference is made to he rather than he or she, and the emphasis is on the monks (an active community of forest nuns also exists) rather than laypersons. Yet the quality of the Dharma expressed here is immediate and universal, appropriate to each of us. Achaan Chah addresses the basic human problems of greed, fear, hatred, and delusion, insisting that we become aware of these states and of the real suffering that they cause in our lives and in our world. This teaching, the Four Noble Truths, is the first given by the Buddha and describes suffering, its cause, and the path to its end.



See how attachment causes suffering, Achaan Chah declares over and over. Study it in your experience. See the ever-changing nature of sight, sound, perception, feeling, and thought. Understanding the impermanent, insecure, selfless nature of life is Achaan Chah's message to us, for only when we see and accept all three characteristics can we live in peace. The forest tradition works directly with our understanding of and our resistance to these truths, with our fears -

and anger and desires. Achaan Chah tells us to confront our defilements and to use the tools of renunciation, perseverance, and awareness to overcome them. He urges us to learn not to be lost in our moods and anxieties but to train ourselves instead to see clearly and directly the true nature of mind and the world.



Inspiration comes from Achaan Chah's clarity and joy and the directness of his ways of practice in the forest. To be around him awakens in one the spirit of inquiry, humor, wonderment, understanding, and a deep sense of inner peace. If these pages capture a bit of that spirit in their instructions and tales of the forest life and inspire you to further practice, then their purpose is well served.



So listen to Achaan Chah carefully and take him to heart, for he teaches practice, not theory, and human happiness and freedom are his concerns. In the early years when WatBa Pong was starting to attract many visitors, a series of signs was posted along the entry path. "You there, coming to visit," the first one said, "be quite We're trying to meditate." Another stated simply, "To practice Dharma and realize truth is the only thing of value in this life. Isn't it time to begin?" In this spirit, Achaan Chah speaks to us directly, inviting us to quiet our hearts and investigate the truth of life. Isn't it time that we begin?

PART 1 Understanding the Buddha's Teachings



Achaan Chah asks us to begin our practice simply and directly with the understanding that the Buddha's truths of suffering and liberation can be seen and experienced right here, within' our own bodies, hearts, and minds. The eightfold path, * he tells us, is not to be found in books or scriptures but can be discovered in the workings of our own sense perceptions, our eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind. To study these in an immediate and wakeful way and cultivate mindfulness is the path of insight prescribed by the Buddha. It has been kept alive and followed by those monks, nuns, and laypeople inspired to devote themselves to practice in the centuries since.



Achaan Chah speaks as a contemporary living representative of this ancient teaching. His wisdom and mastery have not come through study or tradition but are born of his years of practice, his diligent effort to employ meditation to calm the heart and awaken the mind. His own practice was inspired and guided by the wisdom of several great forest masters a generation before him. And he invites us to follow their example and his.



Look at what makes up your world-the six senses, the processes of body and mind. These processes will become clear through examination and an ongoing training of attention. As you observe note how fleeting and impermanent are each of the sense objects which appear. You will see the conditioned tendency to grasp or to resist these changing objects. Here, teaches Achaan Chah, is the place to learn a new way, the path of balance, the Middle Path.



Achaan Chah urges us to work with our practice, not as an ideal, but in our everyday life situations. It is here that we develop strength to overcome our difficulties and a constancy and greatness of heart. It is here, he says, in each moment that we can step out of our struggle with life and find the inner meaning of right understanding and with it the peace of the Buddha.

The Simple Path



Traditionally the Eightfold Path is taught with eight steps such as Right Understanding, Right Speech, Right Concentration, and so forth. But the true Eightfold Path is within us-two eyes, two ears, two nostrils, a tongue, and a body. These eight doors are our entire Path and the mind is the one that walks on the Path. Know these doors, examine them, and all the dharmas will be revealed.



The heart of the path is SO simple. No need for long explanations. Give up clinging to love and hate, just rest with things as they are. That is all I do in my own practice.



Do not try to become anything. Do not make yourself into anything. Do not be a meditator. Do not become enlightened. When you sit, let it be. When you walk, let it be. Grasp at nothing. Resist nothing.



Of course, there are dozens of meditation techniques to develop samadhi and many kinds of vipassana. But it all comes back to this-just let it all be. Step over here where it is cool, out of the battle.



Why not give it a try? Do you dare? The Middle Way



The Buddha does not want us to follow the double path-desire and indulgence on the one hand and fear and aversion on the other. Just be aware of pleasure, he teaches. Anger, fear, dissatisfaction are not the path of the yogi but the path of-worldly people. The tranquil person walks the Middle Path of right practice, leaving grasping on the left and fear and aversion on the right.



One who undertakes the path of practice must follow this Middle Way: "1 will not take interest in pleasure or pain. I will lay them down." But, of course, it is hard at first. It is as though we are being kicked on both sides. Like a cowbell or a pendulum, we are knocked back and forth.



When Buddha preached his first sermon, he discoursed on these two extremes because this is where attachment lies. The desire for happiness kicks from one side; suffering and dissatisfaction kick from the other. These two are always besieging us. But when you walk the Middle Path, you put them both down.



Don't you see? If you follow these extremes, you will simply strike out when you are angry and grab for what attracts you, without the slightest patience or forbearance. How long can you, go on being trapped in this way? Consider it: if you like something, you follow after it when liking arises, yet it is just drawing you on to seek suffering. This mind of desire is really clever. Where will it lead you next?



The Buddha teaches us to keep laying down the extremes. This is the path of right practice, the path leading out of birth and becoming. On this path, there is neither pleasure nor pain, neither good nor evil. Alas, the mass of humans filled with desiring just strive for pleasure and always bypass the middle, missing the Path of the Excellent One, the path of the seeker of truth. Attached to birth and becoming, happiness and suffering, good and evil, the one who does not travel this Middle Path cannot become a wise one, cannot find liberation. Our Path is straight, the path of tranquility and pure awareness, calmed of both elation and sorrow. If your heart is like this, you can stop asking other people for guidance.



You will see that when the heart / mind is unattached, it is abiding in its normal state. When it stirs from 'the normal because of various thoughts and feelings, the process of thought construction takes place, in which illusions are created. Learn to see through this process. When the mind has stirred from normal, it leads away from right practice to one of the extremes of indulgence or aversion, thereby creating more illusion, more thought construction. Good or bad only arises in your mind. If-you keep a watch on your mind, studying this one topic your whole life, I guarantee that you will never be bored.

Ending Doubt



Many people who have studied on a university level and attained graduate degrees and worldly success find that their lives are still lacking. Though they think high thoughts and are intellectually sophisticated, their hearts are still filled with pettiness and doubt. The vulture flies high, but what does it feed on?



Dharma is understanding that goes beyond the conditioned, compounded, limited understanding of worldly science. Of course, worldly wisdom can be used to good purpose, but progress in worldly wisdom can cause deterioration in religion and moral values. The important thing is to develop super mundane wisdom that can use such technology while remaining detached from it.



It is necessary to teach the basics first-basic morality, seeing the transitoriness of life, the facts of aging and death. Here is where we must begin. Before you drive a car or ride a bicycle, you must learn to walk. Later, you may ride in an airplane or travel around the world in the blink of an eye.



Outward, scriptural study is not important. Of course, the Dharma books are correct, but they are not right. They cannot give you right understanding. To see the word hatred in print is not the same as experiencing anger, just as hearing a person's name is different from meeting him. Only experiencing for yourself can give you true faith.



There are two kinds of faith. One is a kind of blind trust in the Buddha, the teachings, the master, which often leads one to begin practice or to ordain. The second is true faith-certain, unshakable-which arises from knowing within oneself. Though one still has other defilements to overcome, seeing dearly all things within oneself makes it possible to put an end to doubt, to attain this certainty in one's practice. Go Beyond Words: See for Yourself



In my own practice, I did not know or study much. I took the straightforward teachings the Buddha gave and simply began to study my own mind according to nature. When you practice, observe yourself. Then gradually knowledge and vision will arise of themselves. If you sit in meditation and want it to be this way or that, you had better stop right there. Do not bring ideals or expectations to your practice. Take your studies, your opinions, and store them away.



You must go beyond all words, all symbols, all plans for your practice. Then you can see for yourself the truth, arising right here. If you do not turn inward, you will never know reality. I took the first few years of formal Dharma text study, and when I had the opportunity, I went to hear various scholars and masters teach, until such study became more of a hindrance than a help. I did not know how, to listen to their sermons because I had not looked within.



The great meditation masters spoke about the truth within oneself. Practicing, I began to realize that it existed in my own mind as well. After a long time, I realized that these teachers have really seen the truth and that if we follow their path, we will encounter everything they have spoken about. Then we will be able to say, ''Yes, they were right. What else could there be? Just this." When I practiced diligently, realization unfolded like that.



If you are interested in Dharma, just give up, just let go. Merely thinking about practice is like pouncing on the shadow and missing the substance. You need not study much. If you follow the basics and practice accordingly, you will see the Dharma for yourself. There must be more than merely hearing the words. Speak just with yourself, observe your own mind. If you cut off this verbal, thinking mind, you will have a true standard for judging. Otherwise, your understanding will not penetrate deeply. Practice in this way and the rest will follow.

Buddhist Psychology



One day, a famous woman lecturer on Buddhist metaphysics came to see Achaan Chah. This woman gave periodic teachings in Bangkok on the abhidharma and complex Buddhist psychology. In talking to Achaan Chah, she detailed how important it was for people to understand Buddhist psychology and how much her students benefited from their study with her. She asked him whether he agreed with the importance of such understanding.



"Yes, very important", he agreed.



Delighted, she further questioned whether he had his own students learn abhidharma.



"Oh, yes, of course."



And where, she asked, did he recommend they start, which books and studies were best?



"Only here," he said, pointing to his heart, "only here." Study and Experiencing



Let us talk about the difference between studying Dharma ideas and applying them in practice. True Dharma study has only one purpose-to find a way out of the unsatisfactoriness of our lives and to achieve happiness and peace for ourselves and all beings. Our suffering has causes for its arising and a place to abide. Let us understand this process. When the heart is still, it is in its normal condition; when the mind moves, thought is constructed. Happiness and sorrow are part of this movement of mind, this thought construction. So also is restlessness, the desire to go' here and there. If you do not understand such movement, you will chase after thought constructions and be at their mercy.



Therefore, the Buddha taught us to contemplate the movements of the mind. Watching the mind move, we can see its basic characteristics: endless flux, unsatisfactoriness and emptiness. You should be aware of and contemplate these mental phenomena. In this way, you can learn about the process of dependent origination. The Buddha taught that ignorance is the cause of the arising of all worldly phenomena and of our volitions. Volition gives rise to consciousness, and consciousness in turn gives rise to mind and body. This is the process of dependent origination.



When we first study Buddhism, these traditional teachings may appear to make sense to us. But when the process is actually occurring within us, those who have only read about it cannot follow fast enough. Like a fruit falling from a tree, each link in the chain falls so fast that such people cannot tell what branches it has passed. When pleasurable sense contact takes place, for example, they are carried away by the sensation and are unable to notice how it happened.



Of course, the systematic outline of the process in the texts is accurate, but the experience is beyond textual study. Study does not tell you that this is the experience of ignorance arising, this is how volition feels, this is a particular kind of consciousness, this is the feeling of the different elements of body and mind. When you let go of a tree limb and fall to the ground, you do not go into detail about how many feet and inches you fell; you just hit the ground and experience the pain. No book can describe that.



Formal Dharma study is systematic and refined, but reality does not follow a single track. Therefore, we must attest to what arises from the one who knows, from our deepest wisdom. When our innate wisdom, the one who knows, experiences the truth of the heart / mind, it will be dear that the mind is not our self. Not belonging to us, not I, not mine, ail of it must be dropped. As to our learning the names of all the elements of mind and consciousness, the Buddha did not want us to become attached to the words. He

just wanted us to see that all this is impermanent, unsatisfactory, and empty of self. He taught only to let go. When these things arise, be aware of them, know them. Only a mind that can do this is properly trained.



When the mind is stirred up, the various mental formations, thought constructions, and reactions start arising from it, building and proliferating continually. Just let them be, the good as well as the bad. The Buddha said simply, "Give them up." But for us, it is necessary to study our own minds to know how it is possible to give them up.



If we look at the model of the elements of mind, we see that it follows a natural sequence: mental factors are thus, consciousness arises and passes like this, and so forth. We can see in our own practice that when we have right understanding and awareness, then right thought, right speech, right action, and right livelihood automatically follow. Different mental elements arise from that very one who knows. The one who knows is like a lamp. If understanding is right, thought and all the other factors will be right as well, like the light emanating from the lamp. As we watch with awareness, right understanding grows.



When we examine all that we call mind, we see only a conglomeration of mental elements, not a self. Then where can we stand? Feeling, memory, all the five-aggregates of mind and body are shifting like leaves in the wind. We can discover this through meditation.



Meditation is like a single log of wood. Insight and investigation are one end of the log; calm and concentration are the other end. If you lift up the whole log, both sides come up at once. Which is concentration and which is insight? Just this mind.



You cannot really separate concentration, inner tranquility, and insight. They are just as a mango that is first green and sour, then yellow and sweet, but not two different fruits. One grows into the other without the first, we would never have the second. Such terms are only conventions for teaching; We should not be attached to the language. The only source of true knowledge is to see what is within ourself. Only this kind of study has an end and is the study of real value.



The calmness of the mind at the beginning stage of concentration arises from the simple practice of one pointedness. But when this calm departs, we suffer because we have become attached to it. The attainment of tranquility is not yet the end, according to the Buddha. Becoming and suffering still exist.



Thus, the Buddha took this concentration, this tranquility, and contemplated further. He searched out the truth of the matter until he was no longer attached to tranquility. Tranquility is just another relative reality, one of numerous mental formations, only a stage on the path. If you are attached to it, you will find yourself still stuck in birth and becoming, based on your pleasure in tranquility. When tranquility ceases, agitation will begin and you will be attached even more.



The Buddha went on to examine becoming and birth to see where they arise. As he did not yet know the truth of the matter, he used his mind to contemplate further, to investigate all the mental elements that arose. Whether tranquil or not, he continued to

penetrate, to examine further, until he finally realized that all that he saw, all the five aggregates of body and mind, were like a red-hot iron ball. When it is red-hot all over, where can you find a cool spot to touch? The same is true of the five aggregates-to grasp any part causes pain. Therefore, you should not get attached even to tranquility or concentration; you should not say that peace or tranquility is you or yours. To do so just creates the painful illusion of self, the world of attachment and delusion, another red-hot iron ball.



In our practice, our tendency is to grasp, to take experiences as me and mine. If you think, '1 am calm, I am agitated, I am good or bad, I am happy or unhappy," this clinging causes more becoming and birth. When happiness ends, suffering appears; when suffering ends, happiness appears. You will see yourself unceasingly vacillating between heaven and hell. The Buddha saw that the condition of his mind was thus, and he knew, because of this birth and becoming, his liberation was not yet complete. So he took up these elements of experience and contemplated their true nature. Because of grasping, birth and death exist. Becoming glad is birth; becoming dejected is death. Having died, we are then born; having been born, we die. This birth and death from one moment to the next is like the endless spinning of a wheel.



The Buddha saw that whatever the mind gives rise to are just transitory, conditioned phenomena, which are really empty. When this dawned on him, he let go, gave up, and found an end to suffering. You too must understand these matters according to the truth. When you know things as they are, you will see that these elements of mind are a deception, in keeping with. the Buddha's teaching that this mind has nothing, does not arise, is not born, and does not die with anyone. It is free, shining, resplendent, with nothing to occupy it. The mind becomes occupied only because it misunderstands and is deluded by these conditioned phenomena, this false sense of self.



Therefore, the Buddha had us look at our minds. What exists in the beginning? Truly, not anything. This emptiness does not arise and die with phenomena. When it contacts something good, it does not become good; when it contacts something bad, it does not become bad. The pure mind knows these objects clearly, knows that they are not substantial.



When the mind Of the meditator abides like this, no doubt exists. Is there becoming? Is there birth? We need not ask anyone. Having examined the elements of mind, the Buddha let them go and became merely one who was aware of them. He just watched with equanimity. Conditions leading to birth did not exist for him. With his complete knowledge, he called them all impermanent, unsatisfactory, empty of self. Therefore, he became the one who knows with certainty. The one who knows sees according to this truth and does not become happy or sad according to changing conditions. This is true peace, free of birth, aging, sickness, and death, not dependent on causes, results, or conditions, beyond happiness and suffering, above good and evil. Nothing can be spoken about it. No conditions promote it any longer.



Therefore, develop samadhi, calm and insight; learn to make them arise in your mind and really use them. Otherwise, you will know only the words of Buddhism and with the best intentions, go around merely describing the characteristics of existence. You may be clever, but when things arise in your mind, will you follow them? When you come into contact with something you like, will you immediately become attached? Can you let go of it? When unpleasant experiences arise, does the one who knows hold that dislike in his mind, or does he let go? If you see things that you dislike and still hold on to or condemn them, you should reconsider-this is not yet correct, not yet the supreme. If you observe your mind in this way, you will truly know for yourself.



I did not practice using textbook terms; I just looked at this one who knows. If it hates someone, question why. If it loves someone, question why. Probing all arising back to its origin, you can solve the problem of clinging and hating and get them to leave you alone. Everything comes back to and arises from the one who knows. But repeated practice is crucial.

The Chicken or the Egg?



During his first visit to England, Achaan Chah spoke to many Buddhist groups. One evening after a talk he received a question from a dignified English lady who had spent many years studying the complex cybernetics of the mind according to the eighty-nine classes of consciousness in the Buddhist abhidharma psychology texts. Would he please explain certain of the more difficult aspects of this system of psychology to her so she could continue her study?



Dharma teaches us to let go. But at first, we naturally cling to the principles of Dharma. The wise person takes these principles and uses them as tools to discover the essence of our life.



Sensing how caught up she was in intellectual concepts rather than benefiting from practice in her own heart, Achaan Chah answered her quite directly, ''You, madam, are like one who keeps hens in her yard," he told her, "and goes around picking up the chicken droppings instead of the eggs."

Thieves in Your Heart



The purpose of meditation is to raise things up and put them to the test, to understand their essence. For example, we see the body as something fine and beautiful, whereas the Buddha tells us it is unclean, impermanent, and prone to suffering. Which view accords with the truth? We are like visitors to a foreign country; not knowing the language, we cannot enjoy ourselves. But once we have learned the language, we can laugh and joke with others. Or we are like children who have to grow up before we can understand what the grownups are saying. The normal view is that the elements of our life, beginning with the body, are stable. One child plays with his balloon until it catches on a branch or a thorn and bursts, leaving him in tears. Another child, smarter than the first, knows that his balloon can burst easily and is not upset when it does. People go through life blindly, ignoring the fact of death like gourmets feasting on fine foods, never thinking they will have to excrete. Then nature calls, but having made no provision, they do not know where to go. There is danger in the world-danger from the elements, danger from thieves. These dangers have their counterpart in the temples too. The Buddha taught us to investigate these dangers and gave the name bhikkhu to one who ordains. Bhikkhu has two meanings: one who begs and one who sees danger in the round of samsara, of grasping. Beings experience greed, hatred, and delusion. Succumbing to these defilements, they reap the results, increase their bad habits, make yet more karma, and again succumb to defilements. Why can't you get rid of greed, hatred, and delusion? If your thinking is wrong, you will suffer; if you understand correctly, you can end suffering. Know the workings of karma, of cause and effect. Attachment to pleasure brings suffering in its wake. You gorge yourself on good food, but stomach trouble and intestinal discomfort follow. Or you steal something and are happy with it, but later the police come around to arrest you. When you watch, you can learn how to act, you can learn to end grasping and sorrow. The Buddha, seeing this, wanted to escape from the real dangers of the world, which we have to overcome within ourselves. External dangers are not as frightening as the dangers within: What are the elements of this inner danger? Wind. Things come at the senses, causing compulsion, lust, anger, and ignorance to arise, destroying what is good in us. Normally, we see the wind only as that which blows the leaves about, not seeing the wind of our senses, which, unwatched, can cause the storms of desire. Fire. Our temple may never have been struck by fire, but greed, hatred, and delusion burn us constantly. Lust and aversion cause us to speak and do wrong; delusion leads us to see good as bad, bad as good, .the ugly as beautiful, the valueless as valuable. But one who does not meditate does not see this and is overcome by these fires. Water. Here the danger is the flood of defilement in our hearts submerging our true nature. Thieves. The real thieves do not exist outside us. Our monastery has seen thieves only once in twenty years, but inwardly the five gangs of attachment, the aggregates, are ever robbing, beating, and destroying us. What are these five aggregates? 1. Body. It is a prey to illness and pain; when it does not accord with our wishes, we have grief and sorrow. Not understanding the natural aging and decay of the body, we suffer. We feel attraction or repulsion toward the bodies of others and are robbed of true peace. 2. Feelings. When pain and pleasure arise, we forget that they are impermanent, suffering, not self; we identify with our emotions and are thus tortured by our wrong understanding. 3. Memories and perceptions. Identifying with what we recognize and remember gives rise to greed, hatred, and delusion. Our wrong understanding becomes habitual, stored in the subconscious. 4. Volitions and other elements of mind. Not understanding the nature of mental states, we react, and thoughts and feelings, likes and dislikes, happiness and sorrow arise. Forgetting that they are impermanent, suffering, and selfless, we cling to them. 5. Consciousness. We grasp that which knows the other aggregates. We think, "I know, I am, I feel," and are bound by this illusion of self, of separation. All these thieves, this wrong understanding, leads to wrong action. The Buddha had no desire for this; he saw that there was no true happiness to be found here. Thus, he gave the name bhikkhu to those who also see this danger and seek a way out. The Buddha taught his monks the true nature of the five aggregates and how to let go of them without clinging to them as me or mine. When we understand them, we will see that they have potential for great harm or great value, but they do not disappear. They are simply no longer grasped as our own. After his enlightenment, the Buddha still had physical ills, had feelings of pain and pleasure, had memories, thoughts, and consciousness. But he did not cling to them as being self, as being me or mine. He knew them as they were, and the one who knew was also not I, not self. Separating the five aggregates from the defilements and from clinging is like clearing the brush in the forest without destroying the trees. There is just a constant arising and falling away; defilement cannot gain a foothold. We are simply being born and dying with the aggregates; they just come and go, according to their nature. If someone curses us and we have no feelings of self, the incident ends with the spoken words, and we do not suffer. If unpleasant feelings arise, we should let them stop there, realizing that the feelings are not us. " He hates me, he troubles me, he is my enemy." A bhikkhu does not think like this, nor does he hold views of pride or comparison. If we do not stand up in the line of fire, we do not get shot; if there is no one to receive it, the letter is sent back. Moving gracefully through the world not caught in evaluating each event, a bikkhu becomes serene. This is the way of NirVana, empty and free Investigate the five aggregates, then; make a clean forest. You will be a different person. Those who understand emptiness and practice accordingly are few, but they come to know the greatest joy. Why not try it? You can abolish the thieves in your heart and set everything right. PART 2 Correcting Our Views



When you pick mushrooms, Achaan Chah cautions, you must know what to look for. When you undertake spiritual practice you must also know what attitudes to nourish, what dangers to avoid, and what mental qualities to encourage.



Here he emphasizes the power of training our endurance and courage, developing a willingness to find the Middle Path and follow it despite temptation and defilement. When greed, hatred, or delusion arise, he says, don't give in to them. Don't be discouraged. Just stay mindful and strong in your resolve.



As your training develops you will see that every single experience you pass through is impermanent, and thus unsatisfactory. You will discover firsthand the end less truth of these characteristics in all existence and begin to learn the way of freedom, of nonattachment. But Achaan Chah reminds us that this requires a willingness to investigate both our sufferings and our joys with an equal mind.



When the heart becomes calm and the mind clear, we come closer to the truth of what Achaan Chah calls, "Just that much." The Dharma, the truth, is really very simple. All things that arise and pass, the whole world of changing phenomena, is really only "that much!" When we truly discover what this means, then here in our world we can come to peace. The Wrong Road



A wandering ascetic, having heard of the Buddha, traveled everywhere looking for him. One night he came to stay in a house where the Buddha was also staying but, not knowing the Buddha's physical appearance, he was unaware of his presence. The next morning he arose and continued on his way, still searching for the Buddha. To search for peace and enlightenment without correct understanding is like this.



Due to a lack of understanding of the truth of suffering and its elimination, all the subsequent factors on the path will be wrong-wrong intentions, wrong speech, wrong actions, and wrong practice of concentration and tranquility. Your likes and dislikes are not a trustworthy guide in this matter either, although foolish people may take them for their ultimate reference. Alas, it is like traveling to a certain town you unknowingly start out on the wrong road, and since it is a convenient one, you travel it in comfort. But it will not take you where you want to go.

Right Understanding



One develops right understanding by seeing impermanence, suffering, and not-self in everything, which leads to detachment and loss of infatuation. Detachment is not aversion. An aversion to something we once liked is temporary, and the craving for it will return.



Imagine some food that you like-bamboo shoots or sweet curry, for example. Imagine having it everyday for five or six years; you would get tired of bamboo shoots. If someone were to offer you some, you would not get excited. In the same way, we should see impermanence, suffering, and emptiness in all things at all times: bamboo shoots!



We seek not for a life of pleasure, but to find peace. Peace is within oneself, to be found in the same place as agitation and suffering. It is not found in a forest or on a hilltop, nor is it given by a teacher. Where you experience suffering, you can also find freedom from suffering. To try to run away from suffering is actually to run toward it. Investigate suffering, see its causes, and put an end to them right now, rather than merely dealing with their effects.

Starving Defilements



Those just beginning often wonder what practice is. Practice occurs when you try opposing the defilements, not feeding old habits. Where friction and difficulty arise, that's the place to work.



When you pick mushrooms to eat, you do not do so blindly; you have to know which kind is which. So too with our practice-we must know the dangers, the snake's bite of defilements, in order to free ourselves from them.



The defilements-greed, hatred and delusion-are at the root of our suffering and our selfishness. We must learn to overcome them, to conquer and go beyond their control, to become masters of our minds. Of course it seems hard. It is like having the Buddha tell you to split up with a friend you have known since childhood.



The defilements are like a tiger. We should imprison the tiger in a good strong cage made of mindfulness, energy, patience, and endurance. Then we can let it starve to death by not feeding its habitual desires. We do not have to take a knife and butcher it.



Or defilements are like a cat. If you feed it, it will keep coming around. Stop feeding it, and eventually it will not bother to come around any more.



We will unavoidably be hot and distressed in our practice at first. But remember, only the defilements are hot. People think, '1 never had problems like this before. What's wrong?" Before, when we fed our desires, we were at peace with them, like a man who takes care of an internal infection by dressing only the external sores.



Resist defilements. Do not give them all the food or sleep they want. Many people consider this the extreme of self-torture, but it is necessary to become inwardly strong. See for yourself. Constantly watching the mind, you may think you are seeing only effects and wonder about the causes. Suppose parents have a child who grows up to be disrespectful. Distressed by his behaviour, they may ask, 'Where has this child come from?" Actually, our suffering comes from our own wrong understanding, our attachment to various mental activities. We must train our mind like a buffalo: the buffalo is our thinking, the owner is the meditator, raising and training the buffalo is the practice. With a trained mind, we can see the truth, we can know the cause of our self and its end, the end of all sorrow. It is not complicated, you know.



Everyone has defilements in his practice. We must work with them, struggling when they arise. This is not something to think about but to do. Much patience is necessary. Gradually we have to change our habitual ways of thinking and feeling. We must see how we suffer when we think in terms of me and mine. Then we can let go.

Happiness and Suffering



A young Western monk had just arrived at one of Achaan Chah's forest monasteries and asked permission to stay and practice.



I hope you're not afraid of suffering" was Achaan Chah's first response.



Somewhat taken aback, the young Westerner explained that he did not come to suffer but to learn meditation and to live peacefully in the forest.



Achaan Chah explained, ''There are two kinds of suffering: the suffering that leads to more suffering and the suffering that leads to the end of suffering. If you are not willing to face the second kind of suffering, you will surely continue to experience the first."



Achaan Chah's way of teaching is usually straightforward and direct. When he meets his monks on the monastery grounds, he often asks, "Are you suffering much today?" If one answers yes, he replies, 'Well, you must have many attachments today," and then laughs with the monk about it.



Have you ever had happiness? Have you ever had suffering? Have you ever considered which of these is really valuable? If happiness is true, then it should not dissolve, should it? You should study this point to see what is real, what is true. This study, this meditation, leads to right understanding.

The Discriminating Mind



Right understanding ultimately means non-discrimination-seeing all people as the same, neither good nor bad, neither clever nor foolish; not thinking that honey is sweet and good and some other food is bitter. Although you may eat several kinds of food, when you absorb and excrete them, they all become the same. Is it one or many? Is a glass big? In relation to a little cup, yes; when placed next to a pitcher, no.



Our desire and ignorance, our discrimination color everything in this way. This is the world we create. Again, a pitcher is neither heavy nor light; we just feel that it is one way or the other. In the Zen koan of the flag in the wind, two persons are watching a flag: one says it is the wind that moves, the other says it is the flag. They can argue forever, take sticks and fight it out, all to no avail, for it is the mind that moves.



There are always differences. Get to know those differences, yet learn to see the sameness too. In our group people come from different backgrounds, different cultures. Yet without thinking, 'This one's Thai, that one's Lao, he's Cambodian, he's a Westerner," we should have mutual understanding and respect for the ways of others. Learn to see the

underlying sameness of all things, how they are all truly equal, truly empty. Then you can know how to deal with the apparent differences wisely. But do not get attached even to this sameness.



Why is sugar sweet and water tasteless? It is just their nature. So too with thinking and stillness, pain and pleasure-it is wrong understanding to want thinking to cease. Sometimes there is thought, sometimes stillness. We must see that both are by nature impermanent, unsatisfactory, not a cause for lasting happiness. But if we continue to worry and think further, '1 am suffering, I want to stop thinking," this wrong understanding only complicates things.



At times, we may feel that thinking is suffering, like a thief robbing us of the present. What can we do to stop it? In the day, it is light; at night, it is dark. Is this itself suffering? Only if we compare the way things are now with other situations we have known and wish it were otherwise. Ultimately things are just as they are-only our comparisons cause us to suffer.



You see this mind at work-do you consider it to be you or yours? "I don't know if it's me or mine," you answer, "but it's certainly out of control." It is just like a monkey jumping about senselessly. It goes upstairs, gets bored, runs back downstairs, gets tired of that, goes to a movie, gets bored again, has good food or poor food, gets bored with that too. Its behavior is driven not by dispassion but by different forms of aversion and fear.



You have to learn control. Stop caring for the monkey-care for the truth of life instead. See the real nature of the mind: impermanent, unsatisfactory, empty. Learn to be its master; chain it down if you must. Do not just follow it, let it wear itself out and die. Then you have a dead monkey. Let the dead monkey rot away, and you have monkey's bones.



Still enlightenment does not mean to become dead like a Buddha statue. One who is enlightened thinks also but knows the process as impermanent, unsatisfactory, and empty of self. We who practice must see these things clearly. We need to investigate suffering and stop its causes. If we do not see it, wisdom can never arise. There should be no guesswork, we must see things exactly as they are-feelings are just feelings, thoughts are just thoughts. This is the way to end all our problems.



We can see the mind as a lotus. Some lotuses are still stuck in the mud, some have climbed above the mud but are still underwater, some have reached the surface, while others are open in the sun, stain-free. Which lotus do you choose to be? If you find yourself below the surface:, watch out for the bites of fishes and turtles.

Sense Objects and the Mind



We do not examine ourselves; we just follow desire, caught in endless rounds of grasping and fearing, wanting to do just as we please. Whatever we do, we want it to be at our ease. If we are not able to have comfort and pleasure any longer, we are unhappy, anger and aversion arise, and we suffer, trapped by our mind.



For the most part, our thinking follows sense objects, and, wherever thought leads us, we follow. However, thinking and wisdom are different; in wisdom, the mind becomes still, unmoving, and we are simply aware, simply acknowledging. Normally, when sense objects come, we think about, dwell on, discourse over, and worry about them. Yet none of those objects is substantial; all are impermanent, unsatisfactory, and empty. Just cut them short and dissect them into these three common characteristics. When you sit again, they will arise again, but just keep observing them, keep checking them out.



This practice is like caring for a buffalo and a rice field. The mind is like the buffalo that wants to eat the rice plants, sense objects; the one who knows is the owner. Consider the comparison. When you tend a buffalo, you let it go free but you keep watch over it. You cannot be heedless. If it goes close to the rice plants, you shout at it and it retreats. If it is stubborn and will not obey your voice, you take a stick and hit it. Do not fall asleep in the daytime and let everything go. If you do, you will have no rice plants left, for sure.



When you are observing your mind, the one who knows constantly notices all. As the sutras say, "He who watches over his mind shall escape the snares of Mara the Evil One." Mind is mind, but who is it that observes it? Mind is one thing, the one who knows is another. At the same time the mind is both the thinking process and the knowing. Know the mind-know how it is when it meets sense objects and how it is when it is apart from them. When the one who knows observes the mind in this way, wisdom arises. If it meets an object, it gets involved, just like the buffalo. Wherever it goes, you must watch it. When it goes near the rice plants, shout at it. If it will not obey, just give it the stick.



When the mind experiences sense contact, it grabs hold. When it grabs hold, the one who knows must, teach it-explaining what is good and what is bad, pointing out the workings of cause and effect, showing that anything it holds on to will bring undesirable results until mind becomes reasonable, until it lets go. In this way, the training will take effect, and the mind will become tranquil.



The Buddha taught us to lay everything down, not like a cow or a buffalo but knowingly, with awareness. In order for us to know, he taught us to practice much, develop much, rest firmly on the principles of the Buddha, Dharma, and Sangha, and apply them directly to our own life.



From the beginning I have practiced like this. In teaching my disciples, I teach like this. We want to see the truth not in a book or as an ideal but in our own minds. If the mind is not yet free, contemplate the cause and effect of each situation until the mind sees clearly and can free itself from its own conditioning. As the mind becomes attached again, examine each new situation-do not stop looking, keep at it, drive the point home. Then attachment will find no where to rest. This is the way I myself have practiced.



If you practice like this, true tranquility is found in activity, in the midst of sense objects. At first, when you are working on your mind and sense objects come, you cling to them or avoid them. You are therefore disturbed, not peaceful. When you sit and wish not to have sense contact, not to have thinking the very wish not to have is desire. The more you struggle with your thinking, the stronger it becomes. Just forget about it and continue to practice. When you make contact with sense objects, contemplate: impermanent, unsatisfactory, not self. Throw everything into these three pigeonholes, file everything under these three categories, and keep contemplating.

Problems of the World



Many people, particularly educated, professional people, are moving out of the big cities, seeking quieter living and simpler livelihood in the small towns and rural areas. This is natural. If you grab a handful of mud and squeeze it, it will ooze through your fingers. People under pressure likewise seek a way out.



People ask me about the problems of our world, about a corning apocalypse. I ask, what does it mean to be worldly? What is the world? You do not know? This very unknowing, this very darkness, this very place of ignorance, is what is meant by worldly. Caught in the six senses, our knowledge develops as a part of this darkness. To come to an answer to the problems of the world, we must know its nature completely and realize the wisdom that shines above the darkness of the world.



These days, it seems that our culture is deteriorating, lost in greed, hatred, and delusion. But the culture of the Buddha never changes, never diminishes. It says, "Do not lie to others or to ourselves. Do not steal from others or from ourselves." Worldly culture has desire as its director and guide. The culture of the Buddha has compassion and Dharma, or truth, as its guide.

Just That Much



When you take a good look at it, this world of ours is just that much; it exists just as it is. Ruled by birth, aging, sickness, and death, it is only that much. Great or little is only that much. The wheel of life and death is only that much. Then why are we still attached, caught up, not removed? Playing around with the objects of life gives us some enjoyment; yet this enjoyment is also just that much.



Whatever is pleasurable, delicious, exciting, good, is just that much; it has its limit, it is not as if it is anything outstanding. The Buddha taught that everything is just that much, of equal value. We should contemplate this point. Just look at the Western monks who

have come here to practice. They have experienced much pleasure and comfort in their lives, but it was only that much; trying to make more of it just drove them crazy. They became world travelers, let everything go-it was still only that much. Then they carne

here to the forest to learn to give it all up, all attachments, all suffering.



All conditioned things are the same-impermanent, caught up in the cycle of birth and death. Just look at them; they are only that much. All things in this world exist thus. Some people say, ''Doing virtuous deeds, practicing religion, you grow old just the same." This may be true of the body, but not of the heart, of virtue; when we understand the difference, we have a chance to become free.



Look at the elements of our body and mind. They are conditioned phenomena, arising from a cause and therefore impermanent. Their nature is always the same, it cannot be changed. A great noble and a common servant are the same. When they become old, their act comes to an end; they can no longer put on airs or hide behind masks. There is nowhere to go, no more taste, no more texture. When you get old, your sight becomes dim, your hearing weakens, your body becomes feeble-you must face yourself.



We human beings are constantly in combat, at war to escape the fact of being just that much. But instead of escaping, we continue to create more suffering, waging war with good, waging war with evil, waging war with what is small, waging war with what is big, waging war with what is short or long or right or wrong, courageously carrying on the battle.



The Buddha taught the truth, but we are like buffalo-unless they are tied down firmly by all four legs, they will not allow themselves to be given any medicine. Once they have been tied down and cannot do anything-aha, now you can go ahead and give them medicine, and they are unable to struggle away. In the same way, most of us must be totally bound up in suffering before we will let go and give up our delusions. If we can still writhe away, we will not yet give in. A few people can understand the Dharma

when they hear it taught and explained by a teacher. But life must teach most of us all the way to the end.



You can pull on the end of a rope, but if the other end is stuck, the rope will never budge. In order to make it come free, you need to find out where it is stuck, you need to seek out the source or the root of the problem. We must use our practice fully to discover how we are stuck, to discover the heart of peace. We must follow the ox's tracks from the beginning, from the point at which it left the corral. If we start in the middle of the trail, we will not be able to tell whose ox's tracks they are, and thus we could be led anywhere.



Therefore, the Buddha spoke of first correcting our views. We must investigate the very root of suffering, the very truth of our life. If we can see that all things are just that much, we will find the true Path. We must come to know the reality of conditioned phenomena, the way things are. Only then can we have peace in our world.

Follow Your Teacher



As you grow in Dharma, you should have a teacher to instruct and advise you. The matter of concentrating the mind, of samadhi, is much misunderstood; phenomena occur in meditation that otherwise do not normally arise. When this happens, a teacher's guidance is crucial, especially in those areas in which you have wrong understanding. Often where he corrects you will be just where you thought you were right. In the complexity of your thinking, one view may obscure the other and you get fooled. Respect your teacher and follow the rules or system of practice. If the teacher says to do something, do it. If he says to desist, desist. This allows you to make an honest effort and leads to making knowledge and vision manifest in your mind. If you do as I am saying, you will see and know.



True teachers speak only of the difficult practice of giving up or getting rid of the self. Whatever may happen, do not abandon the teacher. Let him guide you, because it is easy to forget the Path.



Alas, few who study Buddhism really want to practice. I certainly urge them to practice, but some people can only study in a logical way. Few are willing to die and be born again free. I feel sorry for the rest.

Trust Your Heart



In the practice of Dharma, there are many methods; if you know their point, they will not lead you astray. However, if you are a practitioner who does not properly respect virtue and a collected mind, you will not succeed, because you are bypassing the Path followed by the great forest masters of the past. Do not disregard these basics. If you wish to practice, you should establish virtue, concentration, and wisdom in your mind and aspire to the Three Gems-Buddha, Dharma, and Sangha. Stop all activity, be an honest person, and go to it. Although various things deceive you time after time, if you are aware of them, you will eventually be able to drop them. The same old person comes telling the same old lies; if you know it, you need not believe him. But it takes a long time before you know; our habits are ever striving to deceive.



When I had been practicing for only two or three years, I still could not trust myself. But after I had experienced much, I learned to trust my own heart. When you have this deep understanding, whatever occurs, you can let it occur, and all things will pass on and be quelled. You will reach a point where the heart tells itself what to do; it is constantly prodding, constantly mindful. Your only concern need be to continue contemplating.

Why Do You Practice?



A group of travelers came to visit Achaan Chah with three elegant questions: Why do you practice? How do you practice? What is the result of your practice? They were sent as a delegation by a European religious organization to ask these questions to a series of great masters throughout Asia.



Achaan Chah closed his eyes, waited, and then answered with three questions of his own: Why do you eat? How do you eat? How do you feel after you have eaten well? Then he laughed.



Later, he explained that we already understand and that teaching has to direct students back to their own inner wisdom, to their own natural Dharma. Therefore, he had reflected the search of these men throughout Asia back to the greater search within.

Let the Tree Grow



The Buddha taught that with things that come about of their own, once you have done your work, you can leave the results to nature, to the power of your accumulated karma. Yet your exertion of effort should not cease. Whether the fruit of wisdom comes quickly or slowly, you cannot force it, just as you cannot force the growth of a tree you have planted. The tree has its own pace. Your job is to dig a hole, water and fertilize it, and protect it from insects. That much is your affair, a matter of faith. But the way the tree grows is up to the tree. If you practice like this, you can be sure all will be well, and your plant will grow.



Thus, you must understand the difference between your work and the plant's work. Leave the plant's business to the plant, and be responsible for your own. If the mind does not know what it needs to do, it will try to force the plant to grow and flower and give fruit in one day. This is wrong view, a major cause of suffering. Just practice in the right direction and leave the rest to your karma. Then, whether it takes one or one hundred or one thousand lifetimes, your practice will be at peace.

Too Much of a Good Thing



When Achaan Chah arrived at a new American meditation center, the many Western students there were quickly charmed and impressed by his teaching. He was clear and direct yet loving and humorous as he poked fun at people's fears and attachments. It was exciting to have such a skilful and famous master visit. The new stories, golden-robed monks, and fresh expressions of Dharma were all wonderful. "Please do not go as soon as you planned, do try to stay a long time," the students requested. "We are so happy to have you."



Achaan Chah smiled. "Of course, things are nice when they are new. But if I stay and teach and make you work, you will get tired of me, won't you? How is your practice when the excitement wears off? You would be bored with me before long. How does this restless, wanting mind stop? Who can teach you that? There only can you learn the real Dharma." PART 3 Our Life is Our Practice



Meditation is not separate from the rest of life. All situations provide opportunity to practice, to grow in wisdom and compassion. Achaan Chah teaches that the right effort for us is to be mindful in all circumstances without running away from the world but to learn to act without grasping or attachment.



Furthermore, he insists that the foundation of a spiritual life is virtue. Although virtue is neglected in our modern society, it must be understood and honoured as a fundamental part of meditation. Virtue means taking care so that we do not harm other beings by thought, word, or deed. This respect and caring puts us into a harmonious relationship with all life around us. Only when our words and deeds come from kindness can we quiet the mind and open the heart. The practice of non-harming is the way to begin turning all life situations into practice.



To further establish our lives on the Middle Way, Achaan Chah recommends moderation and self reliance. A life of excess is difficult soil for the growth of wisdom. To take care with the basics-such as moderation in eating, sleeping, and in speech-helps bring the inner life into balance. It also develops the power of self-reliance. Don't imitate the way others practice or compare yourself to them, Achaan Chah cautions; just let them be. It is hard enough to watch your own mind, so why add the burden of judging others. Learn to use your own breath and everyday life as the place of meditation and you will surely grow in wisdom.

Meditation in Action



Proper effort is not the effort to make something particular happen. It is the effort to be aware and awake in each moment, the effort to overcome laziness and defilement, the effort to make each activity of our day meditation.

To Grasp a Snake

"Our practice here is not to grasp anything," Achaan Chah told a new monk.



"But isn't it necessary to hold onto things sometimes?" the monk protested.



"With the hands, yes! but not with the heart," the teacher replied. "When the heart grasps what is painful, it is like being bitten by a snake. And when, through desire, it grasps what is pleasant, it is just grasping the tail of the snake. It only takes a little while longer for the head of the snake to come around and bite you. .



"Make this nongrasping and mindfulness the guardian of your heart, like a parent. Then your likes and dislikes will come calling like children. 'I don't like that, Mommy. I want more of that, Daddy.' Just smile and say, 'Sure, kid.' 'But Mommy, I really want an elephant.' 'Sure, kid.' 'I want candy. Can we go for an airplane ride?' There is no problem if you can let them come and go without grasping."



Something contacts the senses; like or dislike arises; and right there is delusion. Yet with mindfulness, wisdom can arise in this same experience.



Do not fear places where many things contact the senses, if you must be there. Enlightened does not mean being deaf and blind. Saying a mantra every second to block things out, you may get hit by a car. Just be mindful and do not be fooled. When others

say something is pretty, say to yourself, "It's not." When others say something is delicious, say to yourself, "No, it's not." Do not get caught in the attachments of the world or in relative judgments. Just let it all go by.



Some people are afraid of generosity. They feel that they will be exploited or oppressed, that they will not be properly caring for themselves. In cultivating generosity, we are only oppressing our greed and attachment. This allows our true nature to express itself and become lighter and freer. Virtue



There are two levels of practice. The first is the foundation, a development of precepts, virtue, or morality in order to bring happiness, comfort, and harmony among people. The second, more intensive and unconcerned with comfort is the practice of Buddha Dharma directed solely toward awakening, toward the liberation of the heart. This liberation is the source of wisdom and compassion and the true reason for the Buddha's teaching. Understanding these two levels is the basis for true practice.



Virtue and morality are the mother and father of the Dharma growing within us, providing it with the proper nourishment and direction.



Virtue is the basis for a harmonious world in which people can live truly as humans, not animals. Developing virtue is at the heart of our practice. It is very simple. Keep the training precepts. Do not kill, steal, lie, commit sexual misdeeds, or take intoxicants that make you heedless. Cultivate compassion and a reverence for all life. Take care with your goods, your possessions, your actions, your speech. Use virtue to make your life simple and pure. With virtue as a basis for everything you do, your mind will become kind, clear, and quiet. Meditation will grow easily in this soil. .



The Buddha said, "Refrain from what is bad, do good, and purify the heart." Our practice, then, is to get rid of what is worthless and keep what is valuable. Do you still have anything bad or unskillful in your heart? Of course! So why not clean house?



As true practice, this getting rid of bad and cultivating good is fine, but limited. Finally, we must step over and beyond both good and bad. In the end, there is a freedom that includes all and a desirelessness from which love and wisdom naturally flow.



Right effort and virtue are not a question of what you do outwardly but of constant inner awareness and restraint. Thus, charity, if given with good intention, can bring happiness to oneself and others. But virtue must be the root of this charity for it to be pure.



When those who do not understand the Dharma act improperly, they look left and right to make sure no one is looking. How foolish! The Buddha, the Dharma, our karma, are always watching. Do you think the Buddha cannot see that far? We never really get away with anything.



Take care of your virtue as a gardener takes care of trees. Do not be attached to big and small, important and unimportant. Some people want shortcuts-they say, "Forget concentration, we'll go straight to insight; forget virtue, we'll start with concentration."



We have so many excuses for our attachment. We must start right here where we are, directly and simply. When the first two steps, virtue and right views, have been completed, then the third step, uprooting defilement, will naturally occur without deliberation. When light is produced, we no longer worry about getting rid of darkness, nor do we wonder where the darkness has gone. We just know that there is light.



Following the precepts has three levels. The first is to undertake them as training rules given to us by our teachers. The second arises when we undertake and abide in them by ourselves. But for those at the highest level, the Noble Ones, it is not even necessary to think of precepts, of right or wrong. This true virtue comes from the wisdom that knows the Four Noble Truths in the heart and acts from this understanding. The Spiral of Virtue, Concentration and Wisdom



The Buddha taught a way out of suffering-the causes of suffering and a practical path. In my practice, I just know this simple path-good in the beginning as virtue, good in the middle as concentration, good in the end as wisdom. If you carefully consider these three, you will see that they actually merge into one.



Let us then consider these three related factors. How does one practice virtue? Actually, in developing virtue, one must begin with wisdom. Traditionally, we speak of keeping precepts, establishing virtue, first. Yet for virtue to be complete, there must be wisdom to understand the full implications of virtue. To start, you must examine your body and speech, investigating the process of cause and effect. If you contemplate body and speech to see in what ways they can cause harm, you will begin to understand, control, and purify both cause and effect.



If you know the characteristics of what is skilful and unskilful in physical and verbal behaviour, you already see where to practice in order to give up what is unskilful and do what is good. When you give up wrong and set yourself right, the mind becomes firm, unswerving, concentrated. This concentration limits wavering and doubt as to body and speech. With the mind collected, when forms or sounds come, you can contemplate and see them clearly. By not letting your mind wander, you will see the nature of all experiences according to the truth. When this knowledge is continuous, wisdom arises.



Virtue, concentration, and wisdom, then, can be taken together as one. When they mature, they become synonymous-that is the Noble Path. When greed, hatred, and delusion arise, only this Noble Path is capable of destroying them.



Virtue, concentration, and wisdom can be developed in support of each other, then, like a spiral ever revolving, relying on sights, sounds, smells, tastes, touches, and mind objects. Then whatever arises, Path is always in control. If Path is strong, it destroys the defilements-greed, hatred, and ignorance. If it is' weak, mental defilements can gain control, killing this mind of ours. Sights, sounds, and so on arise, and not knowing the truth of them, we allow them to destroy us.



Path and defilement walk side by side in this way. The student of Dharma must always contend with both of them, as if there were two persons fighting. When the Path takes control, it strengthens awareness and contemplation. If you are able to remain aware, defilement will admit defeat when it enters the contest again. If your effort is straight on the Path, it keeps destroying defilement. But if you are weak, when Path is weak, defilement takes over, bringing grasping, illusion, and sorrow. Suffering arises when virtues, concentration, and wisdom are weak.



Once suffering has arisen, that which could have extinguished these sorrows has vanished. Only virtue, concentration, and wisdom can cause Path to arise again. When these are developed, the Path starts functioning continuously, destroying the cause for the arising of suffering in each moment and each situation. This struggle continues until one side conquers, and the matter can be brought to an end. Thus, I advise practicing unceasingly.



Practice-begins here and now. Suffering and liberation, the entire Path, are here and now. The teachings, words like virtue and wisdom, only point to the mind. But these two elements, Path and defilement, compete in the mind all the way to the end of the Path. Therefore, applying the tools of practice is burdensome, difficult-you must rely on endurance, patience, and proper effort. Then true understanding will come about on its own.



Virtue, concentration, and wisdom together constitute the Path. But this Path is not yet the true teaching, not what the teacher actually wanted, but merely the Path that will take one there. For example, say you traveled the road from Bangkok to WatBa Pong; the road was necessary for your journey, but you were seeking the monastery, not the road. In the same way, we can say that virtue, concentration, and wisdom are outside the truth of the Buddha but are the road that leads to this truth. When you have developed these three factors, the result is the most wonderful peace. In this peace, sights or sounds have no power to disturb the mind. There is nothing at all left to be done. Therefore, the Buddha says to give up whatever you are holding on to, without anxiety. Then you can know this peace for yourself and will no longer need to believe anyone else. Ultimately, you will come to experience the Dharma of the Noble Ones.



However, do not try to measure your development quickly. Just practice. Otherwise, whenever the mind becomes calm, you will ask, "Is this it?" As soon as you think like this, the whole effort is lost. There are no signs to attest to your progress, like the one that says, "This is the path to WatBa Pong." Just throw away all desires and expectations and look directly at the ways of the mind.

What Is Natural?



Claiming they want their practice to be "natural," some people complain that this way of life does not fit their nature.



Nature is the tree in the forest. But if you build a house, it is no longer natural, is it? Yet if you learn to use the tree, making wood and building a house, it has more value to you. Or perhaps the dog is natural, running here and there, following its nose. Throw food to dogs and they rush to it, fighting each other. Is that what you want to be like?



The true meaning of natural can be discovered with our discipline and practice. This natural is beyond our habits, our conditioning, our fears. If the human mind is left to so-called natural impulses, untrained, it is full of greed, hatred, and delusion and suffers accordingly. Yet through practice we can allow our wisdom and love to grow naturally until it blossoms in any surroundings.

Moderation



Three basic points of practice to work with are sense restraint, which means taking care not to indulge and attach to sensations; moderation in eating; and wakefulness.



Sense restraint. We can easily recognize physical irregularities, such as blindness, deafness, deformed limbs, but irregularities of mind are another matter. When you begin to meditate, you see things differently. You can see the mental distortions that formerly seemed normal, and you can see danger where you did not see it before. This brings sense restraint. You become sensitive, like one who enters a forest or jungle and becomes aware of danger from poisonous creatures, thorns, and so forth. One with a raw wound is likewise more aware of danger from flies and gnats. For one who meditates, the danger is from sense objects. Sense restraint is thus necessary; in fact, it is the highest kind of virtue.



Moderation in eating. It is easy to fast, more difficult to eat little or in moderation as a meditation. Instead of frequent fasting, learn to eat with mindfulness and sensitivity to your needs, learn to distinguish needs from desires.



Pushing the body is not in itself self-torment. Going . without sleep or without food may seem extreme at times, but it can have value. We must be willing to



resist laziness and defilement, to stir them up and watch them. Once these are understood, such practices are no longer necessary. This is why we should eat, sleep, and talk little-for the purpose of opposing our desires and making them reveal themselves.



Wakefulness. To establish awareness, effort is required constantly, not just when you feel diligent. Even if you meditate all night at times, it is not correct practice if at other times you still follow your laziness. Constantly watch over the mind as a parent watches over a child. Protect it from its own foolishness,. teach it what is right.



It is incorrect to think that at certain times you do not have the opportunity to meditate. You must constantly make the effort to know yourself; it is as necessary as your breathing, which continues in all situations. If you do not like certain activities, such as . chanting or working, and give up on them as meditation, you will never learn wakefulness.

Rely on Yourself



The Buddha taught that those who wish to know must realize the truth for themselves. Then it makes no difference whether .others criticize or praise you whatever they say, you will be undisturbed. If a person has no trust in himself, when someone calls him bad, he will feel he is bad accordingly. What a waste of time! If people call you bad, just examine yourself. If they are not correct, just ignore them; if they are correct, learn from them. In either case, why get angry? If you can see things this way, you will really be at peace. There will be nothing wrong, there will be only Dharma. If you really use the tools the Buddha gave us, you need never envy others. Whereas lazy people want to just listen and believe, you will be self-sufficient, able to earn your living by your own efforts.



To practice using only your own resources is troublesome because they are your own. You once thought practice was difficult because you were contending, grabbing at others' goods. Then the Buddha taught you to work with your own, and you thought everything would be fine. Now you find that too is difficult, so the Buddha teaches you further. If you cling and grasp at something, it does not matter whose it is. If you reach out and grab a fire in your neighbour's house, the fire will be hot; if you grab a fire in your own house, that, too, will be hot. So don't grab at anything.



This is how I practice-what is called the direct way. I do not contend with anyone. If you bring scriptures or psychology to argue with me, I will not argue. I will just show you cause and effect, to let you understand the truth of practice. We must all learn to rely on ourselves.

Don’t Imitate



We have to be aware of how people tend to imitate their teachers. They become copies, prints, castings. It is like the story of the king's horse trainer. The old trainer died, so the king hired a new trainer. Unfortunately, this man limped when he walked. New and beautiful horses were brought to him, and he trained them exquisitely-to run, to canter, to pull carriages. But each of the new stallions developed a limp. Finally, the king summoned the trainer, and seeing him limp as he entered the court, he understood every thing and immediately hired a new trainer.



As teachers, you must be aware of the force of the examples you set. And, even more important, as students, you must not follow the image, the outer form, of your teacher. He is pointing you back to your own inner perfection. Take the inner wisdom as your model, and do not imitate his limp.

Know Yourself-Know Others



Know your own mind and body, and you will know others' as well. One's facial expressions, speech, gestures, actions, all stem from one's state of mind. A Buddha, an enlightened being, can read these because he has experienced and seen with wisdom the states of mind that underlie them, just as wise older people, having passed through childhood, can understand the ways of children. .



This self-knowledge differs from memory. An old person can be clear inside but fuzzy in regard to external things. Book learning may be very difficult for him, he forgets names and faces, and so on. Maybe he knows very well that he wants a basin, but because of the weakness of his memory, he may ask for a glass instead.



If you see states rising and falling in the mind and do not cling to the process, letting go of both happiness and suffering, mental rebirths become shorter and shorter. Letting go, you can even fall into hell states without too much disturbance, because you know the impermanence of them. Through right practice, you allow your .old karma to wear itself out. Knowing how things arise and pass away, you can just be aware and let them run their course. It is like having two trees: if you fertilize and water one and do not take care of the other, there is no question which one will grow and which one will die.

Let Others Be



Do not find fault with others. If they behave wrongly, there is no need to make yourself suffer. If you point out to them what is correct and they do not practice accordingly, leave it at that.



When the Buddha studied with various teachers, he realized that their ways were lacking, but he did not disparage them. Studying with humility and respect, he benefited from his relationship with them, yet he realized that their systems were not complete. Still, as he had not yet become enlightened, he did not criticize or attempt to teach them. After he found enlightenment, he respectfully remembered those he had studied with and wanted to share his newfound knowledge with them.

Real Love



Real love is wisdom. What most people think of as love is just an impermanent feeling. If you have a nice taste every day, you will soon get tired of it. In the same way, such love eventually turns into hatred and sorrow. Such worldly happiness involves clinging and is always tied up with suffering, which comes like the policeman following the thief.



Nevertheless, we cannot suppress nor forbid such feelings. We just should not cling to or identify with them but should know them for what they are. Then Dharma is present. One loves another, yet eventually the beloved leaves or dies. To lament and think longingly, grasping after that which has changed, is suffering, not love. When we are at one with this truth and no longer need or desire, wisdom and the real love that transcends desire fill our world.

Learning Through Life



Boredom is not a real problem; if we look closely we can see that the mind is always active. Thus, we always have work to do.



Relying on yourself to do little things-like cleaning up carefully after the meal, doing chores gracefully and mindfully, not banging on kettles-helps develop concentration and makes practice easier. It can also indicate to you whether or not you have really established mindfulness or are still getting lost in defilement.



You Westerners are generally in a hurry; therefore, you will have greater extremes of happiness, suffering, and defilement. If you practice correctly, the fact that you have to deal with many problems can be a source of deep wisdom later on. Oppose Your Mind



Consider the Buddha's compassion and skill. He taught us after his own enlightenment. Finished with his own business, he got involved in ours, teaching us all these wonderful means. Concerning practice I have followed him, I have made all efforts in seeking, giving up my life to it because I believe in what the Buddha taught-that Path, fruition, and Nirvana exist. But these things are not accidental. They arise from right practice, from right effort, from being bold, daring to train, to think, to adapt, to do. This effort involves opposing your own mind.



The Buddha says not to trust the mind because it is defiled, impure, does not yet embody virtue or Dharma. In all the different practices we do, we must therefore oppose this mind. When the mind is opposed, it becomes hot and distressed, and we begin to wonder whether we are on the right path. Because practice interferes with defilement, with desire, we suffer and may even decide to stop practicing. The Buddha, however, taught that this is the correct practice and that defilement, not you, is the one that is inflamed. Naturally, such practice is difficult.



Some meditation monks only seek the Dharma according to words and books. Of course, when it is time for study, study according to the text. But when you are "fighting" with defilement, fight outside the



text. If you fight according to a model, you will not be able to stand up to the enemy. The texts only provide an example and can cause you to lose yourself because they are based on memories and concepts. Conceptual thinking creates illusion and embellishment and can take you to the heavens and hells, to the far reaches of imagination, beyond the simple truth here in front of you.



If you undertake the training, you will find that at first, physical solitude is important. When you come to live in seclusion, you can think of Sariputta's advice to monks concerning physical seclusion, mental seclusion, and seclusion from defilement and temptation. He taught that physical seclusion is the cause for the arising of mental seclusion, and mental seclusion is the cause for the arising of seclusion from defilement. Of course, if your heart is calm, you can live anywhere, but in first beginning to know Dharma, physical seclusion is invaluable Today, or any day, go and sit far away from the village. Try it, staying alone. Or go to some fearful hilltop by yourself. Then you can begin to know what it is really like to look at yourself.



Whether or not there is tranquility, do not be concerned. As long as you are practicing, you are creating right causes and will be able to make use of whatever arises. Do not be afraid that you will not succeed, will not become tranquil. If you practice sincerely, you must grow in Dharma. Those who seek will see, just as those who eat will be satisfied. Just Let Go



Do everything with a mind that lets go. Do not expect any praise or reward. If you let go a little, you will have a little peace. If you let go a lot, you will have a lot of peace. If you let go completely, you will know complete peace and freedom. Your struggles with the world will have come to an end. PART 4 Meditation and Formal Practice



In keeping with his general style, of teaching, the meditation instructions of Achaan Chah are simple and natural. Usually he just tells people to sit and watch their breath or to walk and notice their body. Then, after a while, he asks them to begin to examine their heart and mind in both postures, to see their nature and characteristics. Sometimes this is all that is offered for initial instruction.



Achaan Chah is careful to avoid letting any method of practice be confused with Dharma. The Dharma is what is, and Dharma practice is any way that clearly apprehends the true nature and characteristics of what is, of our world, of body and mind. Therefore, Achaan Chah does not emphasize any particular technique. He wants students to learn inner strength and independence in practice from the beginning, asking questions when necessary, but relying on their own ability to watch and understand the mind and on their own wisdom to illuminate their experience.



Still, after being at Wat Ba Pong for some time, practicing alone, learning from some of the senior monks, and hearing many questions answered and many Dharma talks. one learns certain subtleties of formal practice. A variety of traditional forest meditations such as the simple mantra "Buddho," or cemetery meditations, or contemplations on the thirty-two parts of the body are also taught when deemed appropriate for particular students. Otherwise, meditation is developed in a simple and straightforward fashion.



In sitting practice, Achaan Chah says it is best to sit with a balanced and erect posture, legs crossed or in some other position that keeps the back and head straight and the chest open for unrestricted breathing. One should sit quite still, allowing the body to become settled and quiet in preparation for the initial breathing meditation.



The first direction of sitting practice is to still and concentrate the mind. Focus the attention on the breath in an easy and natural way, allowing it to come and go without interference. Use the sensation, the direct experience of the breath as it enters and leaves the nostrils, as the point of concentration. Silently follow the sensation of the breath for as long as you can. Then, each time you notice the mind has wandered (which will be thousands of times until it is trained), return gently to concentration on the breath.



This meditation is a way of using our most immediate experience. the ever-changing reality of the breath, to concentrate the mind. One is instructed to patiently continue this simple exercise as a way of strengthening the power of the mind to focus and see. Eventually, this very simple breath concentration can lead to the highest levels of meditative absorption and samadhi.



However, absorption is not the goal of the practice as taught by Achaan Chah, even though for some it may arise naturally in the course of meditation. Students are instructed to use the concentration and stillness they develop through mindfulness of breathing to aid hi the second aspect of their practice. Once the mind is somewhat quiet and focused. one is instructed to begin to examine the workings of the mind and body. To examine or to contemplate does not mean to think about, but rather to feel. to experience directly, how our world is happening. Examine the aggregates of body and mind. Achaan Chah often advises. Notice first the body, which is directly experienced as an ever-changing play of senses. Of elements-hot, cold, bright. dark. soft. hard. heavy, light, and so on. Examine the aggregates of feeling pleasant, neutral, and unpleasant-changing each moment. Notice the play of perception, of memory and thought, of reactions and volition, of consciousness, the quality each of these experiences brings anew in each moment. See how life is a dynamic interplay of these aggregates arising, changing, passing away. Sense objects, feeling, recognition, reaction, volition, the same process again and again. Notice what experience is like when desire or expectation arises. Notice the causes of suffering. Notice the stillness when the mind is not caught by desire.



Is there any part of experience that does not share the characteristics of constant change and fleeting instability, any part that gives lasting satisfaction and is not empty of a self, of an I, of an ego? Where is the self in all this? Examine and you will see how absolutely everything is changing. No me exists, no fixed self. Only this process.



To learn to see deeply into experience and its characteristics is not limited to sitting meditation. Walk and watch. Do the walking meditation back and forth at a natural pace; do it for many hours, if possible. Learn to pay attention, and there is nothing you will not understand. This is the heart of the practice.



In many monasteries, daily interviews with the teacher are an integral part of the practice, but Achaan Chah discourages this. Although he is always available to answer questions, he does not conduct formal interviews. Learning to answer your own question is better, he says. Learn about doubting in the mind, how it arises and how it passes. No one and nothing can free You but your own understanding. Still the mind, the heart, and learn to watch. You will find the whole Dharma of the Buddha is revealing itself in every moment.



Mindfulness



Just as animal life can be classified into two groups, creatures of the land and creatures of the sea, subjects of meditation can be divided into two categories, concentration and insight. Concentration meditations are those that are used to make the mind calm and one pointed. Insight, on the one hand, is the growing perception of impermanence, suffering, and emptiness of self and, on the other, our bridge over those waters.



No matter how we may feel about our existence, our business is not to try to change it in any way. Rather, we just have to see it and let it be. Where suffering is, there too is the way out of suffering. Seeing that which is born and dies and is subject to suffering, Buddha knew there must also be something beyond birth and death, free of suffering.



Methods of meditation all have value in helping to develop mindfulness. The point is to use mindfulness to see the underlying truth. With this mindfulness, we watch all desires, likes and dislikes, pleasures and pains that arise in the mind. Realizing they are impermanent, suffering, and empty of self, we let go of them. In this way, wisdom replaces ignorance, knowledge replaces doubt.



As for singling out one object of meditation, you yourself must discover what fits your character. Wherever you choose to be mindful, it will bring wisdom to the mind. Mindfulness is knowing what is here, noticing, being aware. Clear comprehension knows the context in which