The Net of Delusion | Ignorance | Moha Dala | Thiththagalle Anandasiri Thero

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The Net of Delusion | Ignorance | Moha Dala | Thiththagalle Anandasiri Thero

So, what is delusion (moha)? The simplest meaning of delusion is the nature of concealing the truth. What is it? The mind has such a quality. It conceals what the mind is and what thoughts arise in the mind. The Buddha compared delusion (moha) to darkness. What did he compare it to? To darkness. In darkness, we cannot see what is real. For instance, if we are lost in a forest on a pitch-black, dark night, can we see anything? We cannot see a thing. So, where are we going? What are we doing? What is near us? What is far? We can have no idea about any of this. We can only act based on whatever comes to mind. And what happens when we go on like that? If there is a pit, we fall into it. If we step on an animal, it might bite us. Even if we step on gems, we wouldn't see them. We can't grasp anything. This means we are completely covered. By what? We are covered by darkness.

The Buddha said that there is a place in this world, a hell (niraya) at the edge of the universe (lokānta), where the darkness is so dense it is as if you could cut it into blocks. That is how thick the darkness is. Like how you could cut a solid block of wood, that's how dense it is. It means that even if someone were right next to you, you wouldn't see them. You wouldn't know unless you bumped into them.

Today, scientists have discovered something called a black hole. Once you go inside it, it sucks in even light. After being pulled in, the light cannot escape. It's over. They say it gets destroyed. That is how intense the darkness and gravity are. But the Buddha said that the darkness of delusion (moha) in a human mind is even greater than that dense darkness. What does that mean? The darkness of delusion in the mind of a human or an animal is so powerful that it is even greater than that darkness you could cut into blocks. It means we are completely unable to see the truth. We cannot find reality.

Because of this delusion (moha), the Buddha says that beings fall into a distortion of perception (saññā-vipallāsa). What is a distortion of perception? It is to perceive things incorrectly. This means taking what is suffering (dukkha) and seeing it as happiness (sukha). In reality, it is suffering. But what do people see it as? As great happiness. Correct? In reality, it is a repulsive heap of filth. But because of delusion (moha), what does it appear as? As incredibly beautiful.

There are four such distortions. Next, what is truly impermanent (anicca), constantly changing, is perceived as permanent (nicca). And what is truly not-self (anattā), where we have no ultimate control, is perceived through the lens of a self (atta), as if we can do whatever we want. This is how we fall into these distortions of perception.

The first one is that what belongs to suffering (dukkha) is seen as happiness (sukha). When we form attachments, do we see it as happiness or suffering? As happiness. That's why ordinary people form them. One doesn't form attachments in order to suffer. One forms them for what? To be happy. However, what arises for people through these attachments is endless, immeasurable affliction, mental pain, mental anguish, and suffering. Yet, we still desire them. We still desire more attachments.

For instance, a person has one child and experiences suffering. They have a second child and experience suffering, and yet they desire even more children. This shows the power of delusion (moha).

Consider the lay-disciple Visākhā. When her grandchild died, she came to the Jetavana monastery crying and crying. She had no happiness at all. She came to the Buddha and said, "I had a beautiful, very clever granddaughter who passed away. I had such a strong attachment, I cannot bear it, Venerable Sir." The Buddha asked, "Was she skilled and beautiful? Is that true?" He then asked how many such people she would like to have in the city. When she said she would like to have as many as there are people in the city, the Buddha pointed out, "Visākhā, you suffer this much from your attachment to one person. If you were attached to everyone in the city, you would be crying every day." Realizing this, she was struck with insight, and her grief subsided.

So, this mind has a quality where, for a moment, when the truth appears, reality emerges. But what can delusion (moha) do? It can instantly cover it up. It can swiftly conceal the reality that has just emerged.

Think about our parents, your parents, the people of this world. On a personal level, they have a lot of suffering (dukkha). They experience that life is suffering, but they don't truly comprehend it (avabodha). What happens? They don't comprehend it. Why is that? Because of delusion (moha).

Let's take a surgeon who performs operations. Every day he cuts into this [body]. He cuts open the stomach. He sees the heart. This is just a pile of filth. He sees everything inside. When he sees it, does it smell fragrant? Like sandalwood? No. They wear masks over their noses and so on because the stench is terrible. Even a fart smells so bad after eating jackfruit, so how bad must the inside smell? So, a surgeon sees all this—the cutting, the blood, the maggots, the rot, the cancer—yet, he gets married and clings to such a body. Does he comprehend the truth? No. He experiences its repulsiveness, he experiences its uncleanliness. We don't see this regularly because we aren't people who are constantly looking inside a body. But even with that experience, delusion (moha) does not allow him to comprehend. The delusion in his mind still shows it to him as being beautiful.

So how powerful is delusion? It can show something so foul as being beautiful. It has the ability to show something that is seen as repulsive right before one's eyes as being non-repulsive. That which is impure (asubha) and unpleasant, it has the ability to present as pure (subha) and pleasant. This power belongs to the darkness of delusion in a being's mind. It is this darkness that has led man astray. We have already spoken of how dense and powerful this darkness is.

So it is useless to say, "that person did a foolish thing," or "this person did a foolish thing." The Buddha says that such a powerful darkness exists within the mind. Therefore, this life of renunciation (becoming a monk, pabbajjā) is not an easy thing. Renunciation itself is a battle against the darkness of delusion. It is not easy. The mind naturally resides within it, within that delusion. To grasp a small glimmer of light from within that and make it grow is not an easy task. It requires great effort (viriya), dedication, or in other words, a strength of perfections (pāramitā), proper listening to the Dhamma, and a quality of letting go to fight against it. Otherwise, like getting burned and pulling away, one will be scorched and destroyed by it. Delusion can do that to beings.

No matter how many times we are born, we get an eye. No matter how many times we are born, we get an ear. A nose. A body that can experience touch. A mind that takes mental objects. Correct? No being, even if born on another planet, gets anything beyond these sense bases (āyatana). They get six, or a few, or one, or whatever it may be. So, as long as you have an eye, you can only see colors. If the eye is healthy, the eye-consciousness (cakkhu-viññāṇa) can only know colors. A dog can also know colors with its eye. A human can also know colors. If we die and are reborn, we will still only be able to do that much. The eye cannot see anything beyond color. The ear can only hear sounds; it can't do anything more than that. The nose can only know smells; it can't do anything more. That is all they can do. We are just doing the same thing over and over.

But delusion (moha) is so powerful that it makes one wish for another set of six sense bases. It paves the way for another six sense bases. It creates desire within. For example, no matter how many sights we have seen, the thought, "Let's go to the sea tomorrow to see the sights," still arises. Fine. But even if we go, we only see the same few colors. Delusion has the power to intoxicate us into believing it's something more. Delusion has an intoxicating quality. What kind of quality? When one is intoxicated, like after taking a drug like 'ice' (crystal meth), one is no longer in one's right mind. Then one can go to any length, even shoot someone. Why is that difficult when one is in that state? The drug 'ice' is said to have been invented during World War II by Hitler. Why did he create it? The soldiers were afraid to advance. Snow was falling, the enemy was firing. When they took this drug, the fear vanished. It was as if they became enlightened (arahant). They would just advance, no matter if their limbs were blown off. It destroys a person's natural state of mind. That is the power of delusion.

The Buddha shows that from ignorance, formations arise (avijjā-paccayā saṅkhārā). It is from ignorance that this fabrication occurs. From formations, consciousness arises (saṅkhāra-paccayā viññāṇaṃ). That is how this mind is created. So, ignorance (avijjā) is just another name for delusion (moha).

So, the foundation of this cycle of rebirth (saṃsāra) rests upon delusion, upon ignorance. As long as there is ignorance (avijjā), no one can stop the mental process. You cannot stop thoughts from forming in the mind. They will arise again and again. And the suffering that a being has to experience because of those thoughts is immeasurable. That is why the Buddha used analogies we can understand, saying, "The tears you have shed from the death of your mother alone are more than the water in the four great oceans." He said, "The blood you have shed from having your neck cut only while you were a chicken, if collected, would be more than the water in the four great oceans." The Buddhas say this because of the deep slumber of delusion, the inability of a being to awaken from it. It is that powerful.

Sometimes, when a person's merit (puñña) ripens, and they experience suffering and pressure, they come to ordain as a monk. But even after coming, they cannot continue. Why? Delusion (moha) itself shows them, again and again, "What kind of suffering is this? This is useless. Go! The five sensual pleasures (pañcakāma) are out there. Go and enjoy them." This is not the fault of the individual. It is the power of the delusion within them.

So, you all who have ordained did not do so just by listening to my sermon today. You are ordaining as a result of the strength built up from fighting against this delusion again and again over time. It's not possible to just listen to a sermon today and ordain tomorrow. One cannot fight delusion to that extent so quickly. It takes a great skillful strength (kusala) of renunciation, a skillful strength of developing wisdom (paññā), for a person to hear the Dhamma and ordain. If that is weak, what does one do? One comes into the order and engages in deceit, fraud, and other unskillful acts again. One strengthens the very delusion, increases the darkness. If there was a distant glimmer of light, one covers that up too. A little light falls into the great dense darkness, and one covers up even that light. When one engages in deceit and fraud, that light is extinguished. Then one remains intoxicated in the darkness. That is how powerful delusion is in concealing the truth.

Therefore, the Buddha taught that there is a net in this world. Let's say it's a fishing net. When you cast a fishing net, if the mesh is small, even tiny fish get caught. They cannot escape. If the mesh is large, the small fish escape, and only the large fish get caught. The Buddha said there is a net in this world from which no one can escape. That is the net of delusion (moha-jāla). There is no one who is not caught in it. Everyone is caught. In a net for catching birds, only birds are caught. But you cannot find a single being who is not caught in the net of delusion. Do you understand? That is why delusion is compared to a net.

Even greed (rāga) and hatred (dosa) are based on delusion (moha). If delusion collapses, greed and hatred cannot survive. That is why the Buddha says that the "mother" who creates this cycle of rebirth (saṃsāra) is your craving (taṇhā). But the one who nourishes her, the "father," is ignorance (avijjā) or delusion (moha). He said that it is the father, ignorance, and the mother, craving, who come together to create the child that is your saṃsāra. If the father dies, the mother cannot survive alone; a woman cannot have a child by herself. Both are needed. In the same way, craving is nourished by ignorance, and ignorance is in turn nourished by craving. It is within this dynamic that our mind works, the mind flows, and the continuation of saṃsāra exists.

This is why this process does not stop. In our discussion today, we pointed out that the mind is waging a war. The mind has delusion (moha) on one extreme. The other extreme is wisdom (paññā). What is wisdom? It is reduced delusion. Now, Nibbāna is not wisdom. What wisdom does is increase the light. Then a little light appears. But that too appears within the darkness. Darkness is the opposite of light, and light is the opposite of darkness. So, when you create a light from within the darkness itself, what happens? The darkness disappears. When the darkness disappears, is the light of any more use? That light also belongs to, is touched by, delusion. That is a somewhat deep topic.

But for a disciple (sāvaka), there is only one thing to do. One must develop thoughts that are contrary to delusion. We call this wisdom (paññā). But wisdom has a limit. The limit of wisdom is the point at which delusion can no longer exist. It is from there that one sees the truth.

For example, a thought comes into our mind. We get caught up in every thought that comes. We desire what comes. We get attached to what comes. But there is another quality in that very process that can show you, "This is just a collection of thoughts. This is my illusion. This is just a fabrication." That is what a reduction of delusion is. If that awareness is lost, you get caught up in those thoughts again.

This is why people cry, "My child died! My husband left me! That person hit me!" Are they being hit right now? Is the child dying right now? No. Completely veiled by that darkness of thought, they believe those thoughts are real. The moment you establish mindfulness (sati) and arouse wisdom (paññā), there is no child there. There is no one hitting them. There is nothing there. It is by getting caught up in a collection of thoughts that all this destruction—depression, stress, anxiety—all of it exists in this world. Why? Because of delusion (moha). Because of delusion, a person becomes afraid of their own thoughts. However, the ability to know that they are just a collection of thoughts is wisdom (paññā). We can talk about wisdom on another day; wisdom is another facet of delusion, but a powerful one, a battle against delusion.

So, for now, be aware of this delusion (moha). The Buddha said that if at any time you feel that something is pleasant (subha), don't accept it at once. What should you do? Investigate it. Apply wise attention (yoniso manasikāra). Delusion is always empowered by unwise attention (ayoniso manasikāra). What is unwise attention? It is thinking in the wrong way, in a way that helps delusion.

Just before, when I was coming, I received a call from someone in a big predicament. They were crying, saying "This program is a great service, please help." Then they started worrying, "I am getting older, illnesses are increasing. It's so difficult, I can feel it now." So I asked, "Why do you think about it so much? We only get old if we think about it. Right now, you are not getting old." We can think, "Oh, I might get cancer, I might get this," and we can cry. We can imagine it and weep. But in reality, are we weeping? Do we have cancer? No. What is happening? The darkness in our mind presents the thoughts that arise as being real. Yes, one day we will get sick and die. But we don't need to get sick in our minds right now.

I say this often in sermons. But no matter how much it's said, don't people still contemplate these things and suffer? Why? The power of their delusion. It is not my fault, or the Buddha's fault, or the fault of greed (rāga). It is because of the power of one's own delusion that mindfulness (sati) is not established at that moment. Therefore, wisdom (paññā) does not arise. Delusion remains powerful. And so, frightened by a non-existent demon, one cries, wails, laments, and gets completely ruined.

You see some people, and they are just crying their eyes out. At that moment, is there anything to cry about? There is food here. There is water here. Goodness, everything is here. Why are they crying? They are caught up in their stream of thoughts. So what I do is give them a little tap (tokka) to arouse their mindfulness, saying, "Think about it and see." Then what happens? Sometimes they grab onto that too, thinking, "Oh, he flicked me, he hurt me," and wail even more. That's what happens.

We have heard a story from the Anuradhapura period. There was a chief monk and a young novice monk. The chief monk asked the novice to fan him with a traditional fan (vatāpatha). Just before this, the novice had been punished for some fault and was thinking to himself, "Tomorrow I will disrobe. This is a miserable life, I can't do it. I'll leave and what will I do? I'll buy a she-goat. Then I'll cut grass for her and take care of her. But she'll be lonely, so I'll get a herd. Then a kid will be born. Now I'll have milk. I'll sell it. That kid will grow up. My herd will keep getting bigger. I'll have a good income. By then I'll be powerful. I'll get married. I can't leave her at home alone to go tend the cattle. We'll have a child. After the child is born, no matter what, a child is a happy occasion, so we must go visit the chief monk." Just as he is thinking this and imagining the child falling, he shouts, "I'll smash your head!" and strikes the chief monk's head with the fan. The chief monk, who can see his thoughts, asks, "Why did you hit me and not your child?"

You see? None of that was actually happening there. But for him, it created great interest, great pleasure (assāda), great danger (ādīnava), and great fear. Who did that? When thoughts arise within the darkness of delusion in the mind, those thoughts are given life. The power that can give life to the mind's own thoughts is delusion. The person does not understand that what is being created is just a creation, a collection of thoughts. It appears as an ultimate reality, as something to be experienced with ultimate pleasure, as something to be chased after.

When we set out to do something, it is mostly suffering. But we still go and do it. Why do we go? Because we don't see the suffering. It's only as we are doing it that we see that suffering itself is the main event. Even if you pursue music, it's suffering. If you become a doctor, it's the same. One can build up a little idea in one's head: "I am a doctor now," "I am a singer now," "I am a chief monk now." But the reality is suffering, my friend. Do you understand?

Becoming a chief monk is a very dangerous thing. Paying the light bill, the water bill… It's much easier to just eat a little and stay off to the side. You eat in peace, you live in peace. So, because of delusion, people think they must possess things, that things must belong to them. This is a feeling that exists within beings. It is strengthened by unwise attention (ayoniso manasikāra), which in turn strengthens delusion.

With wise attention (yoniso manasikāra), when we see something as pleasant, we break it down and look. We look at our experiences, like in the suttas on the lesser and greater mass of suffering (Cūḷadukkhakkhandha Sutta and Mahādukkhakkhandha Sutta). We compare and see, "Is this true? Even though it appears this way to me, is it really true?" Then you see that it's not real. It's like the 'Tar-Baby' (kālabamba); if you hit it, you will surely get stuck. When you recognize the Tar-Baby, you don't go to hit it. You move away from it. If you can't get away, what happens? Your limbs get stuck to the tar, and you struggle until you die, unable to get free. That's what happens. It won't be like it was for the Pañcāvudha Kumāra (who had five weapons to escape).

So, because of this delusion (moha) in beings, how many sermons can we give? I get invited to many sermons now, but I don't go. Because even if I go and speak, it's not of much use. Do you know why? A mental transformation doesn't happen. That's how strong it is. Imagine a pan that has been heated for a whole day. I go and put one drop of water on it. What happens? You just see it sizzle and vanish. It's useless.
However, I say that if you say it again and again and again, like dropping water drop by drop, you can make some impact on a person. But to make a big impact, that person themself must apply wise attention (yoniso manasikāra). They must apply the Dhamma they hear to their own mind. They must understand it, comprehend it. That is when it works. It has to happen continuously, like following a single path. If not, what happens? They hear the Dhamma due to some past merit (puñña), it registers for a moment, and then the pan gets hot again. That's all that happens.

That is why when you meet any person in life, when you get very close to them as friends, what do they tell you about? Happiness or suffering? "My mother did this to me. My father did this to me." After that, "My brother did this to me. My friend did this to me. That person did this to me." What are they telling you? They are recounting their suffering, packet by packet. But to the outside world, they put on some lipstick, dress up nicely, and post on Facebook, "Hi, I have no sadness at all!" They use filters and post photos as if they are the most beautiful person in the world. But when you get close and look, what is there? Packets of suffering. People don't even want to get too close because then they have to listen to your suffering. There is no such thing as pure happiness inside any life.

On the surface, from a distance, it looks good. "I'm doing well, I bought a car, we are like this and that." If you look at Facebook, it's over. If you look at TikTok, it's over. But if you become their friend, then you see the utter misery. If any of you become very close friends with someone, what do they have? They have a collection of sorrows from their childhood that they tell you. Who gave them all that? So much suffering has arisen. So much pressure has arisen. So much dissatisfaction has arisen. Yet, even though the way to end it is available—they can hear any number of sermons—they don't develop the inner strength to walk that path. Why is that? Because of the delusion (moha), the foolishness, the ignorance (avijjā) within themselves. They might go and get help from someone, but they don't feel like doing what is necessary. That is because of ignorance.

This is why, at one time, the Venerable Ānanda said, "Venerable Sir, it seems to me that half of this spiritual life (sāsana) is based on the noble friend (kalyāṇa-mitta)." The Buddha replied, "Not half, Ānanda. The entirety of this spiritual life is based on the noble friend." What does the noble friend do? When you are intoxicated, they tap you and say, "No, no, don't think like that. If you think that way, you will fall into difficulty. Think this way." They pull you towards wise attention (yoniso manasikāra). They create a battle against delusion in the mind.

But if you have an evil friend (pāpa-mitta), what do they say? "Come on, man, let's go party! Let's get wasted, no problem! What's this nonsense about sermons? We don't need that." So you go, and later you are filled with remorse. You suffer mentally for the rest of your life. Even if you don't end up in a physical prison, you have no mental peace, no freedom, no liberation (vimutti). So the evil friend always pulls you towards unwise attention (ayoniso manasikāra). Into what do they pull you? Into a way that nourishes delusion. Therefore, if you associate with those who have the Dhamma within them, you too will walk that path.

The Story of Devadatta

During the Buddha's time, there was a monk named Devadatta. He was a good meditator and a virtuous person. But he started to think, "This Buddha has amazing fortune, people revere him so much. I can also teach this Dhamma. All it says is impermanence (anicca), suffering (dukkha), and not-self (anattā). We can also say these things." So he started teaching. And people developed faith in him. Then he thought, "Is he the only one who can become a Buddha? I can also become a Buddha."

So he began to imitate the Buddha's teaching. After all, it is a universal message. Anyone with a decent memory can hear it and repeat it. He became intoxicated by this. He could no longer see the truth. He stopped his own meditation practice and just repeated things he remembered. Then he thought, "I need to be special, this isn't enough. I need to be more advanced than the Buddha." What did he do? "I will bring something new, an easier way to become a Buddha. These monks cannot become enlightened because they are living comfortably on the food given by laypeople." He proposed new rules:

All monks must live at the foot of trees in the wilderness; they cannot accept lodging offered by devotees.

They must be vegetarians; they cannot eat meat or fish as it is a great obstacle to Nibbāna.

They must live on one meal a day.

They can only possess the three robes and a bowl. They cannot accept the many robes offered by people, because they get attached to them and cannot attain Nibbāna.

He introduced five such strict rules. Now what happens? We are on the outside looking in. The Buddha never made these five things compulsory. So, who would you think is more likely to be truly on the path to Buddhahood? People don't know the real Buddha; they cannot see inside. The Buddha's path doesn't seem that difficult. When you look at Devadatta's path, it looks very hard. And people think that Buddhahood must be attained through the difficult path. Why do they think this? Because of delusion (moha).

You cannot become a Buddha through the difficult path or the easy path. You can only become a Buddha if you are wise (paññā). It is a mental factor.

So what happened? Devadatta took his five rules to the newly ordained monks and said, "What this teacher of yours says is too easy. Just eat, drink, and sit around. Listen to the Dhamma, think slowly, don't rush. You can't do it like that. Monks must live at the foot of trees for their entire lives. They must live only on alms-food. If you eat food brought to you, you will become lazy. When you become lazy, you abandon the path to Nibbāna. When you abandon the path, this monastic life is useless. Therefore, you must go and eat only what you receive on your alms-round." He made this compulsory, more powerful than the precept of not killing living beings. He brought these five rules and said, "You decide for yourselves who is truly enlightened."

And so, 500 monks decided that Devadatta was the enlightened one and the Buddha was a fraud. All 500 of them left and went with him to Gayāsīsa.

There, Devadatta would give sermons, repeating what he had heard. "Think like this, do this..." But now he was in a real fix. He couldn't host them in a hall; they had to live under trees.

Venerable Sāriputta came to the Buddha and said, "Allow me to go and tell those monks the true story." The Buddha replied, "If you wish to go, you may. I have no issue." So Venerable Sāriputta and Venerable Moggallāna went. When Devadatta saw them coming from afar, his follower Kokālika said, "Look! Even the Buddha's chief disciples have understood! They realize the Buddha has been lying all this time and that our path is the true way to enlightenment. They are coming to join us!"

Now, the Buddha always gave his sermons while managing a back condition, an injury from his time practicing extreme austerities. He would often have to lie down. Even on a journey, he would rest for a while. Because of the great pain in his back, he would sometimes ask Venerable Ānanda or another senior monk, "You continue the sermon from this point," while he would lie down and listen.

So, Devadatta, in his imitation, preached for a while and then said, "I am now feeling a little discomfort. You, Sāriputta, continue the sermon from here while I rest a little." He was just imitating. He hadn't seen a real Buddha or understood what it means to be one. He was not truly enlightened; he had not realized the ultimate nature of the mind. And so, as he lay down, he fell fast asleep.

Meanwhile, Venerable Sāriputta broke down and explained what self-view (sakkāya-diṭṭhi) really is. He showed them how the mind gets caught. He showed them their unwise attention (ayoniso manasikāra) and explained how to escape from ignorance and delusion through wise attention (yoniso manasikāra). Venerable Moggallāna explained further. The 500 monks then understood that this is a mental problem, and that you cannot escape delusion by merely changing physical routines. They comprehended. Once they comprehended, they got up to leave.

At that moment, Kokālika came and elbowed Devadatta, waking him up. Devadatta, seeing them leave, flew into a rage. It is said he vomited blood. His whole aim was to take this group for himself and be their king.

Think about the power of delusion. He met a Buddha. He heard the Dhamma from a Buddha. He even repeated that same Dhamma. He managed to pull away a group of followers from the Buddha himself. And at that moment, those 500 monks could not recognize the Buddha. What power was at play? The power of delusion (moha). It's not a personal issue. Delusion does not let you recognize a Buddha. It does not let you recognize the Dhamma.

So, when something so powerful can mislead people in that way, what about us? When we advise people sternly, they don't like it. Why? Delusion doesn't like it. It strikes at their egoism (mānatta). Ruling within the darkness of delusion is the ego. The moment you strike it, it collapses. Within that darkness, there is no room for humility, for sharing, for virtue. One only thinks of oneself. One does not think of others.

The Buddha once said... Venerable Sāriputta asked, "Venerable Sir, you help so many beings. Why don't you help Devadatta to escape?" The Buddha replied, "I have tried the hardest to save him." He then gave an analogy. "There is a being, or a man, who has fallen into a pit of excrement. Another person who does not want to get covered in filth wants to help him. He looks to see if there is even a single hair on the man's head that is not covered in excrement, so he can pull him out and wash him." The Buddha then said, "Sāriputta, I cannot find even a single clean hair on him. So how can I help him?"

This refers to what is called wholesome roots (kusala-mūla). No matter how defiled a person is, if the wholesome roots are not destroyed, a teacher who has realized the Dhamma can see that root in the other person. You can use it to help them grow. Is there even a tiny wick that can be lit? I looked for such a wholesome root within his mind, the Buddha said, but when I could not find even one, how could I help? This shows that in people where delusion is extremely powerful, the wholesome roots are absent. It is useless to preach the Dhamma to them. They only listen to the Dhamma looking for a way to commit some fraud. Such a person could stay with the Buddha for eons and still not realize the Dhamma. The enemy preventing his realization is the delusion that has veiled his own mind. Nothing else.

Therefore, it is normal for people to make mistakes. But for a person's wholesome roots to be destroyed is a dangerous thing. That person will fall into infinite, immeasurable suffering in saṃsāra. So, the most dangerous thing we must all be careful of is what? We cannot see our own delusion (moha). None of you can see your delusion. You can't. But you can see your unwise attention (ayoniso manasikāra). You can see that, can't you? What is unwise attention? You know when you are thinking, "Am I thinking about myself? Am I thinking with desire? With hatred? With anger? With fear?" You know what you are thinking about. Anyone with a little bit of a brain can figure that out. When you think like that, what is being nourished? Delusion is being nourished. You must immediately think of the Dhamma and turn to wise attention (yoniso manasikāra).

If you start thinking highly of yourself, if you get caught up in yourself, you must immediately look at the other side and see, "I am getting intoxicated, my mind is wandering. Nothing will come of this but more delusion; I will only sink deeper into it." Imagine you are walking in mud. You see your foot has sunk in up to the ankle. You take another step. You sink deeper. And deeper. You are sinking. So what should you do? If you keep going in that direction, will you sink more or less? You will sink more. You must come back.

We start projects to save the planet and so on. But can we save the environment with that? It's not easy to save it. Because people's delusion is great, their desire is great. Because desire is great, this world will not last much longer. Why? There is no end to it. Delusion has no end. And so, to nourish that craving (taṇhā), people do immeasurable, infinite things. The nuclear bombs that have been created today—they weren't made to feed anyone, were they? They were made to destroy everything in one go. Who makes such things? It is the knowledge that comes from a mind filled with delusion (moha).

So who are the "intellectuals" of this world? When delusion is combined with thinking and pondering (vitakka-vicāra), a great intellect is born. But if that intellect lacks compassion (karuṇā), kindness (mettā), and a drive for freedom, then it is useless. It does no good for the world or for oneself. I never tried to "learn" in that way. I know things, I learn, but I don't need a degree for it. No one needs a piece of paper for it. That is just a pile of concepts (vitakka). Just a pile of concepts. If it joins with delusion, it is dangerous. What do I mean by dangerous? A common murderer can kill one or two people. But what can the one who drops an atomic bomb do? They can destroy their own mother, father, animals, everyone. Their intellect is high. But that intellect is useless.

Every creation in this world has delusion at its root. Truth is not there. There is no reality in any mental object. That is why the Buddha said Nibbāna is peaceful and sublime. It cannot be touched by the mind. Why? The mind can only touch things that exist within delusion. If any object comes to the mind, it is touched by delusion.

Even for an Arahant (enlightened being), it is so. Everything we think with the mind does not belong to the state of Arahantship. It belongs to what? To delusion. The entire system of knowledge, the entire database, is created within delusion.

So we can only live knowing this. Take mathematics. One plus one equals two. Two collections of "one" become "two". But it's just a convention. Where does this have its basis? In the mind. All of it is created by the mind. Music, art, even the Dhamma that we preach. What is its base? Delusion. That is why the Buddha taught that you can cross over with this Noble Eightfold Path. It is the path. But this Noble Eightfold Path itself belongs to suffering (dukkha). Why is it said so? Nibbāna is the end. Freedom, liberation. But the path you take to get there also belongs to suffering. Why? Because it is constructed with words. It relies on language. How did the Sinhala language arise? If we trace it back, it came from some civilization. Pali, English... they all come from a civilization. They are conventions. The study of languages shows that they all have a root in the human mind. And what is the mind situated in? In delusion. So all languages are filtered through delusion.

So what beings use are things within delusion. Clothes, food, every creation. Therefore, the Buddha foresaw that people who hear this Dhamma would grasp onto the Dhamma itself and not become free. The Buddha said, "Kullūpamaṃ vo, bhikkhave, dhammaṃ desessāmi." "Monks, I teach the Dhamma as being similar to a raft." It is not for grasping, but for you to cross over. It is to help your wise attention (yoniso manasikāra) so you can attain liberation. If you apply unwise attention to other things, you get trapped. If you apply wise attention to this, you get free. But if you grasp even onto this path with craving and attachment, that is also unwise attention. To have a rigid view that "This alone is the truth and nothing else," is also unwise attention. It is a very subtle thing.

The Buddha once said, "Monks, the Dhamma I teach is also conditioned (saṅkhata)." What does conditioned mean? It arises from causes and conditions. And what lies beneath everything that arises from causes and conditions? Delusion and ignorance (moha and avijjā). Therefore, the Dhamma I teach is also conditioned, meaning it belongs to the realm of delusion. So if you ask, is everything in the world a lie? Yes, it's a collection of lies. But the most beautiful lie in the world is the Dhamma I teach. What does that mean? It is the lie with the least suffering. Every lie is suffering. But some lies are worse than others. If you tell someone their child is dead and show them a fake video, that lie causes immense pain. But if you tell a lie that brings comfort without harming, it is different. The Dhamma is like that. It is a "lie" in the ultimate sense of being a conditioned concept, but it is the one that reduces suffering the most. Use it.

When a person is in pain, and they hear the Dhamma, does their suffering decrease or not? It decreases. But even that is ultimately a part of suffering. That is why a person who is truly escaping needs such wisdom that they are not caught even by the path itself. What is there to say about the other things we use? They are made with suffering packed inside. Can't a song make you cry? It's because there are heaps of suffering in it for that person. When unwholesome things (adhamma) are heard, people's suffering increases. When the Dhamma is heard, people's suffering subsides. But even in the Dhamma, a subtle suffering persists because it is touched by delusion.

This is a very subtle nature. We could teach about delusion for hours and hours. As I said, it is the root from which everything springs. Because all new things in this world are discovered by the mind. And what does the mind stand on? On delusion. Just as all trees and plants grow on the earth, rooted in the earth, all these concepts are rooted in delusion.

Questioner: You said that any object that comes to mind is connected to delusion. So, does that mean I suffer because of the value I assign to the objects that arise in my mind?

Venerable Thero: It's not just if you believe in it. The very fact that an object arises for you... Yes, what you said is correct. It reduces delusion a lot. An object arises. If the value of that object is high, delusion is high. If the value of the object is low, delusion is low. If the mind does not land on any object, then we can say delusion is absent. But even then, delusion is still there. You cannot say it's completely gone. Delusion is only annihilated in one place [Nibbāna].

Questioner: Where does delusion cease?

Venerable Thero: It is only in Nibbāna that both wisdom (paññā) and delusion (moha) cease. That is why Nibbāna is called anidassana. What does anidassana mean? It is non-manifest; it cannot be illustrated. It is also anārammaṇa—objectless. It has no object. If it did have an object, even one with a low value, it wouldn't be Nibbāna.

For a person who has attained Nibbāna… you asked about anger. If you scold them, a feeling arises. When we eat, drink, or walk, for a person who has realized the truth—let's say they sell king coconuts for a living and they realize the truth. What do they do next? Just that. It doesn't matter. The root is finished.

There are two types of Nibbāna: sopādisesa and anupādisesa. Sopādisesa Nibbāna is where the root [of suffering] is broken, but suffering is not yet completely over. The friction of the six sense bases (saḷāyatana) persists. Feelings persist. This ends only at parinibbāna (the final passing away). That is why it is explained this way. The Buddha became enlightened at age 35. But when did that process reach its complete conclusion? At 80. Why? Until then, the friction at the eye, the friction at the ear, and the thoughts that arise from them still existed.

Questioner: So, does this happen while one is still within delusion?

Venerable Thero: Yes, it is based on delusion; these things are formed with a trace of delusion. That is the nature of the mind. Look, after we are gone, if our mental suffering (mānasika dukha) is gone, what remains? You mentioned "value." When the value is gone, mental suffering is over. What suffering is over? The mental suffering. That's the end of it. You cannot ask questions beyond that point; there is a limit. If you go beyond that, you go to another place, asking questions like whether an Arahant exists after death or not. Do you understand? The question itself is wrong.

This is like the questions Visākhā's friends asked. There's a point beyond which an answer cannot be given about an Arahant. The limit ends there. That is the distinction between sopādisesa and anupādisesa Nibbāna. When you realize liberation (vimutti) for yourself, you understand that Nibbāna is not a fabrication, not something someone tells you, but something that exists within you. You realize it through your own experience. But even after that realization, your life is not over. Thoughts still arise. You have to live. You have to work. You have to exchange ideas. You have to give sermons. Are those things not also suffering? That suffering is not over. It ends when the life span (āyusa) is over.

Questioner: So it is the life span and karma that continue to function?

Venerable Thero: Yes, you can say that. The life-sustaining karma continues. There is a very deep sutta on this in the Dīgha Nikāya (the Collection of Long Discourses); I don't recall the name, but it explains the friction of the six sense bases completely.

Now, you asked about ahiriya (shamelessness of wrongdoing), anottappa (fearlessness of wrongdoing), and uddhacca (restlessness). Those are unwholesome mental factors (akusala). On the other side are the wholesome factors (kusala). How does this work? Let's say we give a gift (dāna). There is delusion in that act too. But what does it give us? An inner cooling, a temporary peace. From that cooling, the power of delusion is reduced. But when we grasp onto something, the power of delusion increases. So the path shows you: if on one side the mind cools down, becomes peaceful, wisdom arises, and faith (saddhā) arises, then that object or act is what? Skillful (kusala). If the mind gets agitated, burns, and becomes veiled, then that object is what? Unskillful (akusala).

But how long does the relevance of kusala last? An Arahant does not perform kusala actions [that create new karma]. It is only relevant until one's ego (mamatta) is finished. For a person with an ego, the mind is shown as having two sides. "Don't nourish this side; nourish this other side." When this other side is nourished, wisdom increases, faith increases, energy (viriya) increases. Then what happens? The power of the unskillful side diminishes. When its power is gone, the skillful side is also no longer needed in the same way. Its purpose is only up to that limit.

The high-level teachings you are asking about, like sopādisesa and anupādisesa, are useless for ordinary people. They haven't even managed to uproot a single blade of grass. It's pointless to preach to them about the attainment of cessation (nirodha-samāpatti). First, they must make the commitment. Otherwise, they just listen for pleasure, thinking, "Oh, such a thing exists."

For ordinary people, you must show them how to get rid of their self-view (sakkāya-diṭṭhi). If they don't even try to do that, hearing the word is useless. But when a person makes a great commitment, when they are ready to renounce everything, that is who this message is for. If you were not here asking these questions, I wouldn't say these things in such depth. For others, it's not possible; they get caught in attachments and are happy there. It is those who come to this side and make a sacrifice who should study this.

Even in our regular sermons, we don't say these things. Why? Because the mind needs it. People in the world think that only wholesome thoughts (kusala) are needed. They give a lot of alms, they don't listen to many songs or watch many movies. But they haven't seen Nibbāna. They just have meritorious thoughts. A being must develop the mind to reduce the weight, to reduce the value of things. That is when the mind becomes unestablished (appatiṭṭhita), it doesn't land anywhere—not on a skillful object, not on an unskillful one. It arises and it's over.

You are asking about the mind of an Arahant. That is something that must be experienced. It cannot be told. The anger of an ordinary person and the "anger" of an Arahant are two different things. It's like this: you know a firework (ahaskūru)? You light it, it goes up into the sky, and what happens? It explodes, and it's over. There's no residue. But there is a sound, isn't there? The Arahant's "anger" is like that. There is no fuel left. But there's another kind of explosion in this world, a nuclear bomb. It never ends. It creates a chain reaction that goes on and on and on. That is the difference. This is rooted in the doctrine of dependent origination (paṭiccasamuppāda): avijjā-paccayā saṅkhārā (from ignorance, formations arise). For an Arahant, that process is altered. The Noble Eightfold Path itself is described as conditioned (saṅkhata). The factors of enlightenment (bojjhaṅga) are all skillful states that lead to awakening. That is the path.

For an ordinary person, the task is to develop these path factors. There's no fault in that for them. It is better for them to practice letting go than to be greedy; it brings peace. But it is bad to grasp with greed at the very act of letting go. It is good to use the act of letting go with a mind of letting go. Sometimes a person gives something and then thinks, "What a waste, I could have used that for myself." The mind that arose at the moment of giving was wholesome, free of shamelessness and fearlessness of wrong (ahirika and anottappa). It had lightness of body and mind (kāya-lahutā, citta-lahutā). But now, a new mind of greed has arisen concerning the object that was given. That is useless. Now there is restlessness (uddhacca). So it is very subtle. A new mind can arise regarding the very thing that was given. In the initial mind of giving, the power of delusion was low. In the mind of regret that takes the past act as its object, the power of delusion is high. That is why we say to establish a wholesome mind before giving, while giving, and after giving. In all three instances, delusion is reduced.

Questioner: So, should we live balancing these two states—the desire for things and the thought to give them away—until one day we realize the truth?

Venerable Thero: If you have a desire for that realization, that too is a thought you are thinking. That too is delusion (moha). That is why it is said not to crave even for Nibbāna. When people crave Nibbāna, what happens? They are afraid to let go of even that. If you desire a gem, you can be convinced to let it go. But if you desire Nibbāna, who is going to come and cut your throat telling you not to attain Nibbāna? So, one must become dispassionate even about Nibbāna. That is the danger of delusion. Delusion can take any object that arises for you and solidify it (ghana karanna), turn it into a solid perception, something huge to be grasped.

Questioner: So one should look at everything with wise attention?

Venerable Thero: Yes, with wise attention (yoniso manasikāra). You know your own mind. You know what will happen if you go down a certain path. When you see yourself going that way, you must pull back and think in the opposite way. If your mind is stuck on something, you can look at its opposite aspect, or you can look at both sides. These are two natures of the mind. That is when the mind becomes neutral (madhyastha). If you want to free yourself, when you are going to one side, you must think of the other. This is a quality of the mind. To see both as two sides is to become neutral. Neutrality is what is closest to liberation (vimutti). It can lead the mind to a state of non-establishment. We can have a small discussion about this in more detail in the future.

Original Source (Video):

Title: මෝහ දැල | Ignorance | Moha Dala | Thithtagalle Anandasiri Thero

https://youtu.be/pmlapd78brE?si=4Hs9Tt4cguTOnfmG

Disclaimer

The translations shared on this blog are based on Dhamma sermons originally delivered in Sinhalese. They have been translated into English with the help of AI (ChatGPT & Gemini AI), with the intention of making these teachings more accessible to a broader audience.

Please note that while care has been taken to preserve the meaning and spirit of the original sermons, there may be errors or inaccuracies in translation. These translations are offered in good faith, but they may not fully capture the depth or nuance of the original teachings.

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