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මුල් සිංහල වීඩියෝව සඳහා Play කරන්න
Always Keep the Mind in a State of Discipleship | Ven. Aluthgamgoda Gnanaweera Thero | Nihada Arana
Then I contemplate, for the life I have now promised, I said, ‘sabba dukkha nissaraṇa nibbāna sacchikaraṇatthāya’ which means, "I need this ordination only to realize Nibbana." We request the robes saying, "Give me these robes only for the sake of Nibbana." When we get ordained, we say, "to be freed from the suffering of samsara, sabba dukkha nissaraṇa nibbāna sacchikaraṇatthāya," meaning, for the sake of realizing the element of Nibbana (Nirvāṇa dhātuva), we make a request with great compassion. He is telling us to look at that, because we forget this. We have absolutely no sense of greatness or pride. We go to a teacher and very respectfully say, "I do not need these robes for any other purpose. Only for this cessation, only to realize Nibbana, please admit me into the life you all live, into the ordained life (pabbajita)." So, what is being said here is, are my activities, is my behavior, in line with that request I made, with that promise? Am I living a life that is suitable for what I asked for?
Otherwise, we say it's "ugly for the situation," don't we? It's very unseemly. Because I ask for one thing and live a different kind of life. It’s not like someone can take a stick and go check on us. You can’t take a stick and peek through the cracks in the window to see what he is doing. You can’t look through the window slats to see what he’s doing. That is why the Buddha says, contemplate this yourself. Do my day and night activities align with the promise I made? Or is some kind of deceptive game going on inside my life? Am I not living according to what I said, what I requested, what I promised? Have I become something else?
What happens is, let's imagine we come to a place like this, ask for ordination, and then we undertake a certain virtue (sīla). When one is ordained as a novice (sāmaṇera), the ten precepts are undertaken. With higher ordination (upasampadā), one undertakes the higher ordination precepts. Even if a layperson comes, after coming to a place like this, they undertake some form of virtue (sīla). After that, I contemplate. Now, the nature of this mind is that even after undertaking this, the mind has little desire to go into seclusion with a spiritual friend (kalyāṇa mitta). We come here having made that promise. Saying, "I will stay under you, under a spiritual friend. I don't need to do great undertakings now. I don't need to engage in big businesses. Day by day, day by day, I will move towards seclusion. Bit by bit by bit, I will turn towards my inner self and move further and further into seclusion. I will move towards solitude." So, this journey into seclusion is what the ordained life is about. However, even though we make this promise, our mind is not as beautiful as it was in those first few days. That's why the Buddha says to recollect this again. Because, at the time of ordination and in the first couple of days after, we request this from the bottom of our hearts and undertake the precepts by uttering these words, but our mind does not continue to have such faith in our spiritual friends for that long. What I'm saying is that it should be that way, but very often, that faith gradually, gradually, gradually diminishes. That respect slowly diminishes. That value slowly diminishes. After it has diminished a little, the outside world starts to seem valuable once again.
Look closely, what is one thing that happens to monks? After some time passes, values from the old, attached life start to emerge again. The old life starts to gain value again. Look, some monks, even after ordaining, still say "my husband" and go around the houses, you know. It's unimaginable. They are that attached to the old things. Just to have a look, you know. They might say they are going to the hospital, but they will make a round past their old house on the way back. Saying they'll just go to the hospital, they will also go by the house. Although they said all that and came here, their life doesn't match it. After a few days, for some reason, our inner self... When our consciousness (viññāṇa) starts creating thoughts in that direction, suddenly that person from the past appears out of nowhere. You don't even know where they came from. In some place, when you are feeling a bit of that seclusion, thoughts begin to arise. After those thoughts arise, all sorts of things... "Or should I try to bring him here too, venerable sir? To somehow get him onto this path as well." They are taking on a problem that they don't have. The Buddha says this is the obstacle to the ordained life. After being ordained, instead of going into seclusion, they increase their activities (kammanta). They try to make the whole world attain Nibbana when it hasn't even been a month since they ordained. It's only been a short time since they ordained. In 10 or 20 years, there will be plenty of suitable time for that. A suitable time will come. Don't worry, a very good time will come. If you first develop your own qualities, if you develop that strength, there is a time given by nature for everyone. We try to pick the fruit raw before it ripens. You have to let it ripen on the tree. But there's no patience for that. They can't wait until the fruit ripens. The fruit has formed on the tree. It's there on the tree now. One has to be patient and say, "Wait, my heart," until the fruit ripens. It's hard to wait until it's ripe; you feel like picking it and eating it.
Just like that, look, it's a strange thing. The mind feels like going out. It feels like going out for some reason, to have a little look around. "Is this all that ordination is? I wonder if there's something more." The fundamental meaning of ordination is not to go searching for such things. We are meant to become more and more secluded. That is difficult. But what we asked for was Nibbana, wasn't it? Nibbana means for a person to become alive in seclusion. He starts to become more and more alive in seclusion. To become alive in that seclusion, when we take on a lot of unnecessary activities, when he becomes very busy, he can't do it. Then there's the funeral of the mother at home to attend, the funeral of the younger aunt to attend. You have to go here, this funeral, that alms-giving... After taking on all of these, he too... he might even like going to the house of a relative he doesn't know. He feels like going to see his mother who is slightly unwell. Something starts to happen inside. Those little... they don't need us. Even if they get a small cough, we start running. Why is that? That is the nature of this. Even though we entered this path, we start to feel a little confined in the life that is meant to suit it. Then we start to think, "Aren't there other temples where people from here have gone?" The other people who were here post photos on Facebook having a great time. They go on trips. See, that’s how the mind thinks. Even while being here, they see others going on trips and uploading photos. In this way, the mind starts to... "Aren't they free? I won't disrobe, but maybe I'll go to a place like that and see." Just like that, without us even knowing, our mind starts to get scattered. Our consciousness (viññāṇa) starts showing us something else.
Otherwise, the Buddha preaches, there is delight in talk (bhassārāmatā). One just talks the whole day away. Then that inner emptiness is filled. To fill that inner emptiness, one starts to talk a lot. Or else, one constantly mingles with a group, delighting in company (saṅgaṇikārāmatā). One begins to live clinging to that group. The Buddha says one starts to live attached. If not that, then delight in sleep (niddārāmatā). If you look, most of the day is spent sleeping. Look at these things. If there isn't an abundance of work (kammanta), if they are not going here and there, they spend most of the time sleeping in their cell (kuṭi). They give all sorts of reasons for it. "My stomach is upset," like we used to say when we were in school. When we were lazy to go to school, we'd say, "I have a bit of a stomach problem today." They come up with some excuse and then it's just delight in sleep (niddārāmatā) all the way. They just take their phone and lie in bed, tossing and turning. "I don't feel like it today. It feels a bit cold today, I can't come in the morning." Once that delight in sleep (niddārāmatā) sets in... see, the Buddha says, after coming to a place like this, to a land like this, and making a promise to do this, one falls into one of those four. One falls into one of those four and gets off track. Completely goes off track. We get derailed and do irrelevant things. Irrelevant activities: delight in work (kammārāmatā), delight in talk (bhassārāmatā), delight in company (saṅgaṇikārāmatā), delight in sleep (niddārāmatā). This is what the Buddha says to look at carefully. "Now that you are ordained, are you living a life suitable for an ordained person, or is my day spent in one of those four states? Am I struggling, having forgotten myself, engrossed in delight in sleep (niddārāmatā), delight in talk (bhassārāmatā), delight in work (kammārāmatā), or delight in company (saṅgaṇikārāmatā)?"
Now, there is a point here. The way I see it, after coming to a place like this and meditating, if one doesn't experience some happiness visible in this very life (diṭṭha dhamma sukha), one will truly get fed up with this. You don't understand the reason. That is why we say, from the very beginning, after coming to a place like this, make a firm resolution to keep the virtue (sīla). That is valuable. That virtue is our protection. Now I look, during the day and night, am I living the life I promised? Did I resolve to keep a certain precept, and am I breaking it? I am not saying it never breaks. I am not saying one becomes 100% perfect and never makes a mistake again; that is an impractical thing to say. We can say it for the sake of argument, that an ordained person is perfect and has no issues. But I don't think that is practical. If it were, the Buddha would not have had to establish a way to confess faults (pāpoccāraṇaya). It's not like once you come, you're fine from then on. When He established the precepts, He laid down the restraint of the Pātimokkha (pātimokkha saṃvara sīla), the restraint of the senses (indriya saṃvara sīla), and the virtue of using requisites properly (paccayasannissita sīla). This means I have made a promise, but in some instances, I have shortcomings. However, if I hide those shortcomings, then it is unseemly. If I don't mention it... Let's say I tell my teacher, "Venerable Sir, I undertook this precept, but please forgive me, at this point, this was broken by me." The problem is, if the other person is not a virtuous person, he might say, "It's okay, you told me, right? We both know. You don't have to tell the senior monk. Let's just keep it between us." It starts to become a very deceitful practice. Within us, there's nothing like that. "You confess, and I will confess too." Or, the person on the other side might say, "Oh, that's not necessary. You don't have to announce it publicly." No, I say I will confess this. Even though I told you I would protect this, it was broken by me. For instance, let's say I resolve to abstain from eating at the wrong time (vikāla bhojana). Then I get gastritis. But even if I break the rule, I don't come and tell anyone. Nothing.
Venerable Ñāṇārāma once had a disciple. A doctor told him, "If you are taking this medicine, you must eat this much." That was during the wrong time. He said, "No, I cannot break that rule. However, if my teacher, after I ask him, says it's not a problem, then I will do it." After he said, "I will do it if he says it's not a problem," he went and asked. Venerable Ñāṇārāma told him, "You have eaten throughout samsara. You have eaten until you were sick of it. You don't need to put it in your head that you must eat when you take this medicine. Just drink it without eating." That's all. But what we do is think, "Oh, it's okay, it's because of my illness," and we break the rule on our own. We break it on our own accord and don't ask anyone or do anything. Then we realize there is a problem somewhere in us. Because the rules I break, I don't confess them (pāpoccāraṇaya) to my teacher. I don't discuss it with my teacher. Then offenses (āpatti) occur one after another. Minor offenses (dukkaṭa āpatti) begin to happen one after another. When a lot of offenses accumulate, the inside is a mess. Then, after that, there is guilt. Once there is guilt, meditation doesn't work. Even if one stays, the whole day feels tiresome. Even though one came to this life for a reason, that energy is not there. Why? Because I am breaking the promise I made to you. Then, at first, the conscience struggles, but after a while, the conscience goes silent. When the conscience becomes silent, it's like a corpse is living inside this place. Even though one is alive, those days and nights pass without any happiness. There is no happiness at all; one is fed up. Because he doesn't have that quality. He doesn't reveal the things he does to his teacher, to his fellow monks (sabrahmacārī). You have to understand this. This part I'm explaining might not seem like it's about the ultimate truth. But these, I feel, are the important points. If you break these, from that point onwards, a life like this loses its flavor. It's like a dead body is just placed here. You don't feel anything. You don't feel a sermon. You don't feel like meditating. Even if you come to meditate, you just sit there. Why? Because I am hiding that thing. So what happens then? After that, no matter what you do, you cannot feel the taste of the Dhamma.
That is why it is said, if I have resolved and promised to uphold the virtue (sīla), I don't need to be upset if it breaks. That doesn't mean to be happy about it. But confess it (pāpoccāraṇaya). Reveal it. We are in a dispensation of compassion where we can reveal it. It's not like you will be killed or beaten for revealing it. But you must have the quality to reveal it. The moment you don't reveal it, you become closed off. We don't realize the harm that comes from that. Because having a secret life, having broken a rule and not revealing it, means what? There is a feeling of being stuck left inside. Because for this liberation, the path we are developing is the purest of paths. You cannot proceed on it with such blemishes. Those blemishes must be revealed. It must be opened up. If it is opened up, revealed, expressed, then it's fine. Otherwise, you just stay there with some false arguments. But even with those arguments, your own stomach is burning. Your head is in pain. No matter what arguments you make, you get fed up. Because making arguments doesn't let you escape reality. You can make arguments like, "Oh, it's not a problem." No matter what you do, for that part, that confession is essential. That disclosure is necessary. Even if a minor training rule (sikkhāpada) is broken.
That's why, typically, after becoming a novice monk, in our early days, we cannot shave our own heads. We have to go and ask the senior monk, "Should I shave my head today?" We can't just shave our heads whenever we feel like it. I once went to shave my head after two days, and I got scolded. I didn't understand. I was scolded, "Did your teacher tell you to shave your head every two days?" Then I said, "I don't know. I thought you have to shave your head." Then he said, "You can't do it like that." After that, I went to the chief monk and asked, "Actually, how many days after ordination should I shave my head?" He said, "Since there are many people here... a teacher with one or two disciples can be asked every time. But at Subodharama, where I was, there were many monks. So he said, since it's difficult for everyone to ask the chief monk frequently, Friday has been set as the day for everyone to shave their heads. Shave only on that day." It was a general rule. Then that teacher explained that because when the number of students increases, the teacher cannot attend to everyone separately. So, things like that... that is the ordained life. That period as a novice (sāmaṇera) means that even shaving one's hair... then we feel like this is a prison. It's not a prison. That is what builds the 'love,' so to speak, between the teacher and the student. There are no secrets. There is nothing done in hiding. There is no such secret life. Because without that element, I can't imagine... even if we gather like this, after one day, you will get tired of this. Because the moment that love with the teacher is over, the moment that affection is over... it is with that affection that we can go to a deeper level in this conversation. That openness, that friendship, that transparency... if you don't have a private life where you hide things, that thing you hide will fester like a cancer. After hiding it for a long time, it builds up pressure, and we don't even realize what is happening to us.
That is why, when I now spend my days and nights in a place like this, I look to see if I am living a life that is in accordance with the virtue (sīla). Do I discuss my weaknesses? Do I reveal them? Do I disclose my shortcomings? That is one thing. The reason I am taking a lot of time on this point is that I feel it is that important for this path. It is vital. Whether you take Buddhism or Christianity, Jesus says that confession is the way to salvation. The Buddha also speaks of confessing faults (pāpoccāraṇaya). Don't be secretive. Don't keep anything secret. If you do, that gentleness, that loving-kindness, that warmth, that affection will all die within you. You will be dying inside over and over again until finally, you appear like a piece of rotten firewood. Why? Because there is nothing left in you.
So then, we look at that part. Do I have this quality? I might break the training rules at times. But am I hiding it? Or do I tell the fellow monks (sabrahmacārī) who are treading the path with me? But again, I say, there is no point in telling someone who is also engaged in foolishness. You must go and tell someone who is not doing it. Otherwise, it's like, "Alright, let's play this match together inside here." That's useless. You must confess to someone who is established in that virtue (sīla). You must go and tell someone who protects that discipline. That is why we say to tell a teacher. Telling another person who also breaks it... they are not a true fellow monk (sabrahmacārī) in that respect. We don't consider them as such because they are not people who live up to the promise they made. They are people who live a different life in secret. They have no respect for the virtue (sīla) we promised to uphold. That is why you cannot proceed on this path without respect for virtue (sīla). That virtue (sīla) is our protection.
Dhammajīva Swamī always used to tell us that you can never perform brain surgery in a toilet pit. We are going to eventually break down a very subtle layer of defilements through subtle insight meditation (vipassanā). To break that, you must first have a very good foundation. Because in the very end, this practice goes to breaking the most subtle underlying tendencies (anusaya), like the tendency of ignorance (avijjānusaya) and the tendency of conceit (mānānusaya). Breaking those subtle things is like brain surgery. You cannot perform brain surgery like that while sitting in a toilet pit. First, one must have a good... that's why we come to a place like this to cultivate this. That's why we take something like ordination. It is a good operating theater. We go to a good, clean place. This brain surgery is done inside a good, clean operating room. Because it is difficult to do it in a place like that. That is why association... you understand. The thing is, it is difficult to have a mind that wants to stay in such a place. If it were just about getting food and drink, hundreds of thousands of people would come, but they don't. Just because food and drink are provided, people don't come. A mind with defilements does not want to stay in such a pure environment for long. It's like how we can't drink pure water. Look how difficult it is to drink pure water. We have no interest in pure water. We prefer water with some bacteria and other things in it. Just try drinking pure water. We don't like pure water. Similarly, not many people stay long in a place like this. A mind with defilements does not find delight or enjoyment in this for long. That's why I said, by the time this is over, I don't know if some will want more. The defiled mind doesn't let you stay.
That is why I said, after coming to a place like that, we don't need much, really. If a person has come with good understanding, they know. "I don't need a lot of advice about this and that here. I know that if I make a mistake, I can quickly mention it and correct it. That's all." If I am doing something that is not suitable, then that's that. So, in that way, while maintaining the practice of confession (pāpoccāraṇaya), I should then contemplate: after undertaking the precepts (sīla), I had certain addictions during my lay life, before coming to this hermitage. Am I now doing the opposite of those things? For example, if I engaged in killing, I then make a resolution, "No, from the time I came here, I will protect the lives of others." Is that how I am spending my days and nights, on the wholesome (kusala) side that is the opposite of my unwholesome (akusala) habit? We need to look at it this way. Are my days and nights spent on those things? If, when I was at home, I talked about women, men, and dramas, do I come here and talk about the same things again? No. It was because I talked about those things that I was drawn to them. Now, even my speech is against that. "Against" doesn't mean with aversion (dvesha). It means I speak about the Dhamma. I don't go and talk about those other topics. Even that kind of talk gives value to that other side again. You get pulled back into talking about this girl, that girl, these women, these men, the people at that place... When I was in the outside world, I also talked about gossip, this and that, those women, these men. That's all. Now, have I come to a place like this to talk about the same topics? That's what you need to look at carefully. Even the words I speak, am I going back to frivolous talk (sampappalāpa)? Am I going back to slander (pisunavācā)? Am I going back to my old patterns? Do I open my mouth and tell lies again? Some people get so used to lying that they have to make a firm resolution. Otherwise, that tendency will come back here after a few days. We say that even if the jungle changes, the tiger's spots don't change. The jungle can change, but it's not easy for the tiger to change its spots. After we come from a place like that to a place like this, we have to look carefully. I must be careful. If I had a tendency for stealing when I was in the outside world, for sure, after a few days, when the environment for it arises, that tendency will pop up quickly. That thief-like quality will emerge. I'm not saying this to look down on anyone as a thief. It's not about seeing them that way. But that tendency comes to the forefront. So then I have to be extremely careful. From the moment I came here, I will not take anything that belongs to anyone else... That is why, typically, after higher ordination (upasampadā), one only touches something if it has been offered (pūjā). Only if it is offered. That means if it is formally presented.
When we were at Mīthirigala, they would give out supplies from the storeroom once a week. If we had written down something we needed, it would be placed on our chair in front of where we eat our alms food. I have seen that sometimes, if I had written something down, I would forget to take it for a week. Even if I forgot, it would remain on that chair just as it was. No one would even touch it. Why? Because after higher ordination (upasampadā), one only takes what is offered. It must be formally offered into the hands of an ordained monk. Otherwise, he will not take it. Because in that small opening, our old habits can get a chance. In that small instance of touching something that was not offered. That is why... we might think these are outdated practices. They are not outdated. Because otherwise, we go back to our old patterns. To our old habits. We have our old habits. That is why we need to look carefully. Am I protecting communal property? That is how you can remove that old tendency. I had a habit of stealing completely. But now, after coming here, do I also protect the belongings of others? Do I have that quality? Look and see, are my days and nights spent on my old weaknesses, or am I cultivating the opposite virtues? This is what we correct within this monastery. Is it my weak, unwholesome (akusala) nature, or is it the opposite, the wholesome (kusala) nature? We have to be mindful of this ourselves. Otherwise, I will again be secretly sharing things, just like at home. Secretly going and eating. When you start with those small things, after a while, you're not afraid to go into someone's cell (kuṭi) and take a phone. Once that habit comes, the person doesn't even realize it. Then, as soon as they see money, they grab it. As soon as they see a phone... they don't even know why. Because they gave a little bit of room for it to grow inside. They go back to their old habitual nature.
You have to look at this very carefully. If I was a person who engaged in sexual misconduct in the outside world, who chased after women or men, understand that after a few days, that tendency will arise within this place. So then, I know the nature of my mind. In opposition to that, I will not in any way talk about those topics. I will not call such a person. I will not even say a casual "hello." I know that inside me, I have a tendency for sexual misconduct. I have a nature of chasing after women and men. So, if I live a life here that supports that, without even knowing it, that nature will come to the forefront and pounce on us. Once it comes to the forefront, you can only bear it up to a certain point. At some point, the limit of control is lost, and I won't even realize what's happening.
That's why you are told to look: in what way are my days and nights passing? Am I living a life that supports my old addictions? Or am I living a life of pure wholesomeness (kusala) that is the opposite of that unwholesomeness (akusala)? That is why we say a place like this, an ordination, is a meritorious ground, a field of merit for us to accumulate merit, to accumulate wholesomeness. The timetable, the schedule, and the discipline are all arranged to facilitate that. All of this has been created to go against our weaknesses, against my addictions. So then I look: am I secretly going back to that same old thing? Is it my old addiction, or is it truly the opposite, the wholesome side? So that is what the Buddha is saying here. Look and see, "In what manner should my daily activities be for my well-being? How should I spend my days and nights?"
So, having understood this matter well... the reason I am taking more time on this virtue (sīla) is because this is the foundation of it all. Once you break that base, it's very difficult to go on. A strong feeling of guilt comes. Or, to cover that guilt, you have to become more and more intoxicated with some addictive object. Otherwise... so I think it's okay to take this base a bit seriously. To take it firmly. "Firmly" doesn't mean to suffer. But it is my foundation. Because the mind doesn't want to stay in this operating theater. The mind wants to go back to its old garbage heaps. Or else, it brings the garbage into the operating theater. Am I allowing that to happen? Right there, I need to be with my spiritual friends (kalyāṇa mitta). Then I must see, am I communicating with my spiritual friends? We should always say, "Venerable Sirs, if you see my foolishness coming out, if you see my old patterns emerging, if you see my old habit of not listening to what is said, of hitting back if I'm hit, of scolding back if I'm scolded... if that old self is coming out, please, out of compassion, tell me." Because when I get caught up in it, if my mindfulness is weak, I can't catch it. I don't realize it. But the people around me realize, "Okay, now he is starting to go back to his old nature. The way he is talking, the things he is saying, those habits... he is slowly, slowly starting to devalue this path, thinking it's useless. He says the same things every day." He starts to not appreciate this. He doesn't apply himself. But my fellow monks (sabrahmacārī), there are those who are cultivating the path with me. How much respect do I have for them? Because if you don't respect them, no one will say anything. If he is always acting like a 'big shot,' if he thinks there is no one greater than him, then I don't think anyone will get close to him. Because you can't get close. He gets angry no matter what you say to him. He will say, "Mind your own business." So I think he needs to learn to be a person who can receive advice. Not everyone has that quality. That is a real quality. It is not easy to become a person who can take advice from others. It means his innocence must be felt in the hearts of others. Because no one gets close to a person who is not innocent. We would say, "Let him keep his arrogance." We don't get involved. Think about it, just because someone came to a place like this, I don't think anyone would care if they acted superior. They would just think, "Let him keep his arrogance." But anyone would make a sacrifice for an innocent person. They would lay down their life for an innocent person. Because there is an innocence inside him. There is something about him that makes you feel you can talk to him. You can talk with him, you can tell him things. He can discuss it. I have to see, if I have built that quality, I think the people around me will lead me to Nibbana. Because he is that gentle, that innocent. He is ready to accept anything, any words. He is ready to receive. Look, then I think any fellow monk (sabrahmacārī) will respect that quality. That's why I said, if you lose that quality, you will think you are right. You are not right about everything you think you know. But no one gets close to you because of that strange, hard nature.
That is why the Buddha directly told the monk Channa... before the Buddha's final passing (parinibbāna), the venerable Channa had a subtle tendency of thinking, "I am the one who has known the Buddha since his lay life." The Buddha told Ananda, "Ananda, after my passing, definitely give the 'higher penalty' (brahmadanda) to the monk Channa." What that means is... when someone has that kind of subtle pride inside... that's what we have to note well as we spend more time as monks. Are my days and nights passing with this sense of self-importance? The Buddha said directly, "Go and give the heaviest 'higher penalty' (brahmadanda) to the monk Channa." This means no one talks to him. No one points out his faults. They remain silent. They don't speak. Imagine... after this was said... "The Buddha said to give you the brahmadanda." The brahmadanda means that no other member of the Sangha will have any good or bad interactions with him. Because you can't; whatever you say, he flares up. "Mind your own business." That strange arrogance. So they were told, "Don't anyone go and tell him anything." Then, the venerable Channa understood. It was over. You cannot cultivate any path beyond that point. You can't cultivate any path beyond that. The stubborn pride is too much. Because he thinks, "I am someone who has cultivated this path for so long, I am someone who has listened so much." Even the venerable Sariputta did not have that tendency. He had the quality to bow down and worship even a monk who had ordained that very day and take his advice. He began to take advice.
That is the point we need to note well. So, this quality... I think carefully about this. You might think, "Oh, if someone tells me something, I will accept it." But it's not like that. You might say, "Venerable sir, I don't have that problem. I accept whatever anyone says." But others can feel it. That arrogance... it's like, "Alright, alright, I accept it." It's not like that. There is a different nature required for receiving. To receive advice, you need that innocent nature. If that part was missing... that's what happened to the monk Channa. But some wisdom arose in venerable Channa from somewhere, and he went to the cell (kuṭi) of every single monk and said, "Please don't do this. Forgive me. Some strange arrogance took hold of me inside. My days and nights were spent with this sense of self-importance. Please forgive me, all of you. Because otherwise, I cannot be free from this." Without the association of spiritual friends (kalyāṇa mitta), how can we see these things in ourselves? We can't see them. The spiritual friends have to gather and show me from all sides my tendencies to run here and there. Otherwise, we go on thinking we are right, and we end up getting stuck somewhere, and then we have neither the ordained life nor... people run here and there, and in the end, they just create a mess for themselves. They get completely entangled.
Therefore, that quality of innocence... I don't know how one can create it. I don't understand it. It is a quality that we must bring with us, that nature. Perhaps these words will be of some help to you. But I don't think you can fake it for long. You can pretend for a month or two, but at some point, you will explode. "That's enough of the advice I've listened to. I was just acting like a fool because you told me to. You don't know who I am." "Because you told me to, I just stayed quiet for these two weeks..." Then it wasn't something that came from within. He was just pretending. So he listens for a day or two. At some point, he thinks, "I've had enough of listening to this," and he breaks everything and changes it all. That is why that quality has to be continuous. Because that is what will get you through. Dhammajīva Swamī used to tell us, "Hold on to that quality. You will never go wrong. If you have that quality, wherever you go, because of that inner innocence, the fellow monks (sabrahmacārī) will love you." Wherever he goes, he has that quality. That is it. It means, the quality you had in the first two or three days after ordination, you just have to maintain that continuously. That's all. What I mean is, if one had that quality in the early days, when anyone said anything, one would accept it with great respect, saying, "Yes, venerable sir." But little by little, we lose that. After two or three years, you can't even get near them. Then it becomes, "You have to come to me and give it to me, you have to do that for me." So you have to see if this quality is there within me continuously. Or have I destroyed that quality? Have I killed that virtue within me? If the quality of innocence, the quality of humility, is dead, then I think no one will get close to him, no matter how much he says, "Give me advice." He will be on a private journey. And there is no point in us gathering like this if that's the case. The very reason we gather is because we cannot do this alone. We need spiritual friends (kalyāṇa mitta) from somewhere. We cannot become Buddhas on our own. If we could, we would become a Sammāsambuddha. We can't do it. We must first accept that inability. Put down the cleverness, put down the arrogance, and accept the inability. After accepting the inability, one makes an invitation. If that is truly sincere, I don't think any spiritual friend will mock or put that person down. Because he is asking for it from the heart. He asked for ordination from the heart, didn't he? He came and said, "Out of compassion, let me stay with these spiritual friends. Let me live with those who are cultivating this path of liberation. Please accept me into this team, into this group of fellow monks (sabrahmacārī)." Because apart from that, I don't understand. If I stay alone outside, I won't even understand myself, how to see or look at those things. I will just be lost.
That is the promise we make at ordination. That is what you must look at every day and night. "Am I in a situation that is suitable for that?" I should be mindful of it day and night. If I am not in that state, then I am just going back to something else, back to how I was outside, thinking, "My way, my pattern, it doesn't matter that I am here." That is why you must repeatedly look at that initial mind. "Is the mind I came with initially still there?" The Zen mind, the beginner's mind, that initial state, the innocence of a beginner... is that quality growing and developing within me? As this quality grows, as the Dhamma grows within a person, they come to a place where they feel they don't know things. They realize, "What I thought I knew was just a lot of arrogance. All the talks I gave were just my ego." That arrogance subsides. It's like how a fruit-laden branch bends down as the fruit ripens. As mindfulness increases and wisdom grows, you realize, "I don't know anything." Go and ask someone who has truly cultivated this path. They will honestly say, "I used to know a lot of things. But now, I really don't know anything." There is nothing that I know. That is the point where one becomes established. They remain in that state continuously. As long as they remain in a state of discipleship, new flowers will bloom in their spiritual garland every single day. But they have no pride. Every day, they are a little lower, a little lower, a little more of a disciple. Then they can go to any monk and get advice; they don't have that sense of self-importance, thinking, "This doesn't apply to me." That doesn't mean they listen to every single sermon. But they have developed the quality of being open to anything. It doesn't mean they go here and there and listen to everything. We go by what feels right in our heart, a teacher that resonates with our heart, a path that we feel. There's nothing wrong with that. But just because one follows a certain path, one is not so foolish as to think, "This is right and everything else is wrong." They are not that clever. Even in what I feel is right, there can be mistakes. The truth can exist where I have no faith.
The Buddha says in the Cankī Sutta to always think: "Where you have placed your faith could be a wrong view. The truth may exist where you have no faith. The truth may not be in what you are reasoning about. The truth may be in what you are not investigating. The truth may not be in what you prefer, and the truth may be in what you dislike." The Buddha clearly says this in the Cankī Sutta. Therefore, there are no absolute conclusions. One never holds onto a fixed position. So, these are the qualities we look for day and night. We start to look and see, "Do I have this? Am I living a life where I am increasing unnecessary activities? Am I talking more than necessary?" That should be decreasing. Am I getting more attached to company? Am I leaning more towards sleep? In this way, one should reflect on how their own days and nights are passing. Our lifespan is depleting rapidly. At a speed we don't even perceive, this wholesome karmic result is ending. The time we have to practice something like ordination among spiritual friends is not a long time. It is a small karmic result that we have received. This result is not something that will last for a long time. It's not Vesak every day. It's not Christmas every day. There are not Buddhas all the time. There are not Jesuses all the time. So, am I living a life that is suitable for this opportunity I have received? Or am I just going to miss it in the end and regret it, thinking, "What a waste, what did I do while I was there?" The Buddha says to reflect on this again and again. Practice this self-observation. At night, before you sleep, you should balance your accounts. "How much time did I spend today in unmindfulness? How much time was I mindful?" "How did I spend the daytime today? How did I spend the night before sleep?" Was it just watching movies here and there, in a meaningless way, without any mindfulness, on Facebook? When we look at it like this, then the next point to contemplate daily is this: after coming to a place like this and having undertaken the virtue (sīla), if we do not establish a practice for the sake of experiencing happiness visible in this very life (diṭṭhadhammasukhavedanā), meaning, if we do not cultivate the path for the sake of happiness in this very life, we will get more and more tired of this.
The way I see it, as we cultivate mindfulness in this practice, there is a sense of peace, a happiness that we feel through mindfulness. The Buddha calls it the bliss of jhāna (dhyāna sukha) and says to attain it. We can talk about that tomorrow. In the Mahāsuññata Sutta, the Buddha shows that liberation itself is emptiness (suññatā). When we were discussing it, I said, "Look, in this sutta, the Buddha directly speaks of a relative emptiness for the ordained one, not the ultimate emptiness." Tomorrow, I will show you the sutta. We can look at that tomorrow. In it, the Buddha beautifully shows, "Monks, if this ordained life does not lead to a practice of making the mind relatively empty for the sake of happiness visible in this very life (diṭṭhadhammasukha), it cannot be sustained for long." That is why we say, as much as possible, cultivate a practice that is necessary to temporarily concentrate the mind. That is why we say to do walking meditation (cankamana) and sitting meditation (pariyanka). Because through that walking and sitting, the mind attains a state of happiness experienced in this very life. It is in relation to that happiness that the world falls away for us. Meaning, if we continuously... for example, let's say we come to a place like this and cultivate mindfulness. We listen about mindfulness. We cultivate it. We cultivate it through walking and sitting. We bring mindfulness to every action in our daily life. As we cultivate mindfulness in this way, we reach a certain level. When we sit, it's not that we were mindful for the entire hour. But for some amount of time, say 10 or 15 minutes, it doesn't matter. Or even two or three rounds in the walking path. Let's say we reach a point where we can do walking meditation with continuous mindfulness. Let's say I was able to maintain mindfulness on every aspect of the movement of the feet from here to the end of the path. At that moment, for a few seconds, we came to the present moment. Now, don't grasp at this "present moment" from the ultimate perspective. Simply put, for a short while, we were there. Let's say I was able to maintain mindfulness on the base object of meditation for 20 continuous steps in the walking path, without the mind wandering to other objects. Or say, for 10 or 15 breaths, it doesn't matter. Let's say I had those 10 or 15 breaths, or those 20 steps. If I can be happy about those 20 steps, then talk about that happily. Don't talk about the 45 minutes that you were not successful. Talk about the 10 minutes that you were. When I am happy about something like that, tomorrow the mind will be a little more... because I am appreciating it. When I appreciate it, it gives me support for another 10 steps tomorrow. It gives great support for another 10 steps. Because we gave value to it. "Wow, I am so happy, I caught one today!" You must have that joyful outlook. Otherwise, it's immediately, "Oh, meditation is not working for me, this monkhood is not for me." The mind doesn't like this seclusion anyway. The mind wants to go back to the old life of going to KFC, eating this and that, going to musical shows. That's what it likes. This feels like being imprisoned in one place. That life of eating, drinking, and roaming around seems so great. "I was so free. What have I done to myself?" There was a monk who used to say he had a book titled "What Happened to Us," and after coming here, he said, "And nothing happened to the book either." That mood comes because you don't appreciate those 10 steps. Because you don't appreciate those 10 breaths. So, even if you succeed a little bit in this, start to enjoy it. "Wow, today I managed 10 steps with mindfulness." "Today I managed to stay with 10 breaths." Appreciate those small moments, like how little children get happy over small things. We should also be happy. "I managed to do some walking meditation today. I was able to walk back and forth four times continuously." Talk about that. Make a big deal out of it. Then, without you even knowing it, you will be happy about having managed a few steps of walking meditation. "I managed 20 steps." Otherwise, if you think, "What is this?" it's over.
So you have to look in a very subtle way. "Am I looking at even this small experience with joy?" Then the mind's game becomes, "How can I do this tomorrow?" "How can I add another 10 minutes tomorrow?" "How can I sit for another 10 minutes without moving my legs?" Then our game is with this. Then all our plans are about, "How can I manage two sessions of walking meditation today?" Then the mind, day and night, is occupied with that, not with "How do I call my mother?" "How can I increase my sitting time? How can I increase my walking meditation?" In that way, you create an interest, a desire for this. Now the game is with this. The challenge is with this practice. You make this a challenge, a game. Then, without you even knowing it, you don't care about the world. Because my problem now is with my walking meditation. My problem now is with my sitting meditation. I can't sit for an hour. My problem is with yoga. "I will become a yoga champion." Now I am interested in yoga problems. What I am saying is, create problems within the practice. The game is to be found within the practice. Then, without us knowing it, we don't have time to think about other things. We have a different game now. We are wrestling with something else. It doesn't matter, that's fine. Then, little by little, the other stories become irrelevant. Because this mind also needs something to get entangled with, something to fight with. So, let it fight with meditation. "I will win this match today, this sitting meditation." That's what we need. We say, "Today I'm going to hit a century." So, you try to hit a century in this. After being happy about the 10 steps, then it's 20 steps.
Then, let's say we are actually able to maintain this mindfulness continuously while sitting. If we can maintain mindfulness for a considerable time in the sitting posture. After that mindfulness gets well established, understand the next step. Beyond this point in the practice, after mindfulness is established, our karmic consequences (kamma) start to come up. With our mindfulness, we start to encounter unexpected things in life. The body starts to shake in an unimaginable way. When I was meditating and my body was shaking, I asked my teacher, and he told me two possibilities. He said, "Some karmic results that would have required you to be born for many more lifetimes to exhaust are being burnt up and finished right here by this shaking of the body. So be happy." He said, "Some of those powerful karmic results from past lives that would have led to many hundreds of thousands of future births might be getting exhausted right here, by being burned up." The inside feels like it's on fire. Or else, it could be the vibration that comes before the mind attains concentration (samādhi) in meditation. Before the mind becomes concentrated and enters jhāna, the body vibrates and shakes. If you just watch that shaking motionlessly, it settles down. It settles down, and the mind becomes concentrated. So, the advice I was given was that this could be the vibration that comes before concentration, the shaking of the body. The whole body shakes. You feel embarrassed, thinking the people around you might think you are crazy. It's like a possession sometimes. For some people, the whole body shakes violently. But after all that, it all settles down, and when you get up, you feel so relaxed. A great sense of lightness comes. A very relaxed state begins to emerge. He said it could be that.
Or, the third reason he gave me was that sometimes, if our body needs some exercise and we are not exercising enough, when the mind becomes concentrated in the sitting posture, the body does its own exercises. The body does its own required exercises. It takes care of its own well-being. It could be one of those three things. So I think there is a connection to the force of karma. But the only thing to do in that situation is to accept it. I go prepared for anything. When I am meditating, whether sitting or walking, whatever comes, my only thing is to be prepared. I start to be prepared. Being prepared means, "Let any pain come. If this body is to be burned, let it be burned. If it is to be cut, let it be cut. If it is to be pierced, let it be pierced. I am okay with anything." That is the method: to be prepared. "Let any pain come, let any insult be heard, let any thought come." To always be prepared for any kind of thought to arise within this mind is the only way to leap forward in meditation from that point on.
Now I can stay mindful for 20 or 30 steps continuously. Now I can sit well for about half an hour. While staying like this, those forces of karma come. You have to face things that are difficult to bear. But I am happy. "Wow, these things are ending in this life itself, rather than being born again and again to experience them." I know the insults I have given to people. I know how I have deceived people. We have done so much even in this life, the ways we have hurt people, hurt their feelings. The ways I have projected my own pressure onto others in this life. So then, this is good. "Let more of this pressure come, let more of this burden come." I will never react. I will just watch. I am okay and prepared for anything. I am now prepared in this life of meditation. One starts to become completely prepared for this. While being prepared, I will tell you one more step. Now I will see. Am I okay with these karmic consequences? Am I fighting with these things day and night? Or are my days now spent being prepared for anything, being okay with accepting anything? If I am fighting, understand that the 'I' is in that fight. For example, let's say I am sitting in meditation, in the sitting posture. Look, the problems each person has are different, aren't they? Some people, when they come here, their problem is the cold. But for some people, the cold is not an issue at all. Some people love this climate, this mood. But not everyone is like that. They say they can't stay for more than a day. For us, it's not a big deal because we don't have a conflict with it. We don't clash with it. Our 'I' does not react to it. I think none of us has a big issue with this cold mood. But someone else might. That's why some people don't even come. Those who live in places like Anuradhapura find it difficult in places like Nuwara Eliya where it is cold. But for some people, Anuradhapura is not suitable. Because their reaction comes from that side. That is why for Arabs who live in a hot climate, heaven is depicted as a cold place. Hell is depicted as an even hotter place. So, the 'I' of each person works in a different way.
Now, some people are not bothered by any sound they hear. But look at some other people; they have a terrible fight with sound. Some people don't care at all. Even if a backhoe is working right next to their cell, they can meditate. They can't be disturbed. Because for some people, the fight is with sound. They can't stand sound. Some people can listen to any sound, but their problem is with thoughts. When thoughts arise, they can't meditate with them. It's difficult. For some people, even thoughts are manageable, but they can't bear physical pain. When there is pain, they can't endure it. So we understand, through what I clash with, I realize the preferences and aversions I have created. The things I am grasping at. So I invite them. "Come, more pain. Let more sounds be heard. Let more thoughts come." What is done in serenity meditation (samatha) is to remove that vibration and go to a different environment. One changes the mood. But then, I will have to experience those karmic consequences again later. What is done in insight meditation (vipassanā) is to invite them. "Come, more pain. Come, more thoughts." One gives room for it. One accepts it.
As mindfulness is developed in that way, the nature of mindfulness is that it invites obstacles. If one dislikes one's image being shattered, then it's, "Shatter my image more. Destroy it more." That's all. He knows, "I can't stand it when someone looks down on my image." So he invites that very thing. "Come, let it be shattered more. Criticize me more." If someone can't be without relationships, they say, "Break the relationships completely." There is a loneliness that is felt when they break. One stays with that very loneliness. That sound, or thought, or shattering of the image... when one is free from it, the pain of loneliness, the pain of sorrow that is felt... one stays with that sorrow itself. One stays with that loneliness itself. When one stays with that sorrow, one realizes there is a great silence beneath it. When one accepts it, a great silence begins to emerge.
Alright, after that, when I understand in this way at that level, as mindfulness is cultivated, karma is exhausted. That is a great thing. And my ego clashes with certain things. I start to accept that. Now, the next step, see if you can understand this. Let's say we are a person who gets a lot of thoughts. His mind clashes with the thoughts. At that point, if he can bring wisdom (ñāṇa) along with that mindfulness, then through that wisdom, that ego, that suffering, starts to become completely empty. I will give you an example of bringing in wisdom. Let's take a tissue. After taking a tissue, just think for a moment. We have a feeling that we are seeing a tissue. It is from the perception "a tissue is seen" that the identity "I am seeing" is formed. Now look carefully. This tissue does not have the idea, "I am a tissue." So, the idea "tissue" means that a tissue being seen by me has never existed in this physical world. That is what the Buddha says. This is always a conditioned thing (sankhāra). That means we construct it. As a tissue is constructed to exist, along with that construction, the seer of the tissue is created. But that "tissue" is never something that is seen. There is no tissue to be seen.
Similarly, as we establish mindfulness, we understand that at this moment, if I encounter anything as "you," or "a tissue," or "the world," I have always thought that I see you because you exist. But I understand that such a person has never existed. We think, "I see you." It feels like what is seen is what I am thinking about. That I am thinking about what is seen. But look, what is thought is what is seen. See if you can understand that. As you are cultivating mindfulness, you have to bring this wisdom to that inner conversation. When wisdom is added to the inner conversation, we realize that if we ever said we saw something, heard something, or felt something, all of it was just a mental formation (manasikāra). It is always a picture created from within. Look, we think of the world map as the world, that the world is put on the map. But we find Sri Lanka and India when we look at the map. We think that a Sri Lanka and an India are put on the map. But it is because of the map that such a thing is seen.
Similarly, we understand that this is purely ‘manopubbaṅgamā dhammā manoseṭṭhā’ — "mind is the forerunner of all states, mind is chief." This is a mental picture born from the condition of mental formation (manasikārapaccaya). A mental construction (manosaṅkhāra). It is that mental construction that appears to us as "you." "I see you. I see Sri Lanka. I see Kandy. I see the Silent Hermitage." So, with good mindfulness, we understand that we have never experienced a Silent Hermitage. I have never even seen you. I have never even talked to you. But there is ‘manasikārasambhavo’ — born of mental formation. Mental formation has a nature of always creating things inside. It keeps creating. Now, think about it. Even if we close our eyes, we can still create images, can't we? "Alright, I don't see you, but you are here in front of me." See? It's not that you think it, that's how it feels. "Okay, I close my eyes, but you are there. It's raining outside. Alright." See? It is because "it is raining outside" was formed inside that a rain is seen like this. It's not that a rain was formed inside because it was raining. It's not that I understood it was raining because it was raining. It is because there is the idea of "rain" that I see a rain. Look at that a little.
As we go on establishing that mindfulness, little by little... we think that people outside... "When I am meditating, I remember him." We are given to think that he exists somewhere separately, and I am remembering him during meditation. I am reminded of him. It's not that I am reminded of him. It is because of that remembering that my mind goes to show him as an external person. See? It is from the condition of mental formation (manasikārapaccaya), look carefully. It is through an ignorant mental formation that we always think, "I was with you." It's not that because there is a minute in the world, we get a minute or an hour. It is because an hour is seen through mental formation that I think, "I listened to the sermon for an hour." "Ah, today I listened for an hour, today I listened for two hours." We think that because the sermon was given for two hours, I listened for two hours. But if you look, the two hours were constructed, and that's how it was seen. It's not that there was a tissue. When a tissue was formed, when "tissue" was constructed from the condition of mental formation, an eye to see that tissue is formed. A place where the tissue is, is formed. So, a space where something called a tissue exists, its arising and ceasing are seen. Look carefully. Then you will understand that it's not that there was a tissue before I saw it. It's not that there is a tissue outside at the time of seeing. It's not that there is a tissue after seeing it.
Then, "So, are you saying there is no tissue outside?" The statement "there is no tissue outside" also comes from the condition of mental formation. "Then what is outside?" When you say "what is outside," when the idea of an "outside" becomes true from the condition of mental formation, you now see an outside. "So, are you saying everything is inside?" When you look thinking "everything is inside," an inside is seen. "So, are you saying everything is in mental formation?" When you look thinking "everything is in mental formation," "in mental formation" is seen. Now, when I said, "everything is in mental formation," and you take that, then if you look thinking, "if everything arises from mental formation," then "arising from mental formation" is what you find. Yes, that means we are always engaged in a view (diṭṭhi). Now, when I tell you this is formed inside, you think, "Then it is formed inside." It is when you look with that view that a "looking from inside" starts to be seen. That is the view (diṭṭhi). It always makes that mental formation seem real. That mental formation is always made alive. So when we are told that everything is in mental formation, ignorance makes "mental formation is here" alive. That is what ignorance is. It always enlivens it. It gives it life. It gives life to that mental formation. That enlivening of the mental formation is the nature of a view (diṭṭhi). That is what is called wrong view (micchā diṭṭhi). It always gives life to the mental formation. When life is given to the mental formation, then it's, "Ah, then everything is inside." If you give life to the mental formation "everything is inside," then it is inside. It is seen that way after that. When you look thinking "everything is a creation of the mind," then "everything is a creation of the mind" comes from the condition of mental formation. "Then this is all an illusion of the mind."
So, in that way, we have to understand very well that it is that mental picture that we experience as the world. But even the "mental picture" is something born from the condition of mental formation. Even that, now as I am saying this, you might quickly think, "Ah, okay. So, 'mental formation' is also... what you are saying is correct. This is manopubbaṅgamā." When you say that, then that becomes it. That is how it starts to be seen after that. One sees, feels, and perceives in that way. So, in that way, as we are cultivating mindfulness, this wisdom must be applied. It's clear comprehension with mindfulness (sati-sampajañña). In the end, there are not two separate things as mindfulness and wisdom. That very wisdom is mindfulness. Mindfulness itself becomes wisdom. Looking at them separately, as "this is mindfulness, this is wisdom," is also done through mental formation. That "mindfulness is a separate thing, mental formation is a separate thing" is also a lie created by mental formation. That there is a separate thing called mindfulness, a separate thing called wisdom, and another thing called mental formation, that too is a view created by mental formation. In the end, mindfulness and wisdom are not separate things. "So, do they become one?" Saying "they are one" is also from mental formation. "So, saying they are both one..." So then we have to understand that well. Now, let's take the tissue as an example again. So I ask, "Alright. So the tissue... even if you don't think anything about it..." You might say, "Venerable sir, a child doesn't think 'tissue.' But venerable sir, a child sees something here." Then look, isn't that "seeing" also a condition of mental formation? "Seeing" (diṭṭha) is also something born of mental formation. We think, "No, venerable sir. It's not that I created it with my mind where there is a seeing. I am seeing. There is a seeing. In a place where there is a seeing, I created 'tissue' with my mind." See? We make "seeing" real through that mental formation. We make it the truth and say, "Ah, the tissue is something created by the mind." "In a place where there is a hearing, I created these obscenities with my mind." The moment "hearing" is encountered, that too is from the condition of mental formation. "In a place where there is a feeling, the mental formation 'he touched me,' 'my wife touched me,' 'a man touched me' is created." That "feeling" is also encountered through mental formation. So, "a feeling," "a thinking"... "Ah, this is just a thinking. These things like lust, aversion, are all just thoughts." Saying "it is just a thought" is also from the condition of mental formation.
In the end, do you understand? That "seeing, hearing, feeling" are also separated out by the condition of mental formation. Saying "it is from the condition of mental formation" is also from the condition of mental formation. Look, when your wisdom comes to a place like that, in the end, this "seen"... now what happens? If "seeing" becomes real for us, then understand well, what is seen can be grasped. What is grasped can be thought about. But if a "seeing" itself is not encountered here, can what is seen be grasped? Can what is grasped be thought about? No. If seeing is real, you can think about seeing. If you think, you can grasp it. If there is no seeing at all on some day, you can't grasp. If there is no grasping, you can't think. If you can't think, you can't see. You can't hear. In this way, this conversation goes to a very subtle place. That is why... we should really be talking at that level. But without talking about the other things, we can't just talk about this either. We have to talk about the base. Once established in the base, then as we discuss this more and more, it turns to ash. That entire inner picture turns to ash. The inner map. When the inner map turns to ash, then what was seen, a seeing, a hearing, what I saw, all of it is ash. The inner picture has turned to ash. "Turned to ash" means it has ceased to a level where it will never arise again. It is that inner picture that everyone is caught in. Now, when I say "inner picture," don't take it as if there is an inner picture that is seen externally. That "inner picture" is also a lie conjured by mental formation. When I said "inner picture," you might think, "Ah, I am seeing an inner picture." Or, "The inner picture is me," or, "It is my inner picture that I am seeing outside." You can go into a whole lot of confusion after that. Wisdom must be applied right there. When wisdom is applied, a separate existence called "inner picture" is not formed. No enlivened, living thing is encountered. The inner picture is always being given life, being enlivened by ignorance, and that is how we experience this world even for a moment. As wisdom is applied more and more, that too turns to ash. When I say "turns to ash," don't imagine a picture that existed and then turned to ash. It's not like that. It ceases completely. So, because of that cessation... that is why I said, go forward with mindfulness. But develop it along with this wisdom. In the end, there is nothing left called "wisdom" and "mindfulness." You cannot talk about "seeing, hearing, feeling, thinking," or mindfulness, or wisdom. In the unconditioned, in Nibbana...
Alright, let's end for today. May the Triple Gem bless you all.
Original Source (Video):
Title: සැමවිටම සිත ශ්රාවකත්වයේ තබන්න - Ven Aluthgamgoda Gnanaweera Thero | නිහඬ අරණ
https://youtu.be/k_AR2D8ED_w?si=awu-R9PATDMpy-BG
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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