Vap Pura Pasalosvaka Poya Day Dhamma Sermon ~ đĒˇ | Ven. Aluthgamgoda Gnanaweera Thero | Nihada Arana
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Vap Pura Pasalosvaka Poya Day Dhamma Sermon ~ đĒˇ | Ven. Aluthgamgoda Gnanaweera Thero | Nihada Arana
Now, the Dhamma is described as a path that goes against the stream (patisotagami). It is entirely the opposite. Going with the stream (anusotagami) means traveling in the direction the river flows. For a person to realize this cooling (nivima), this Nibbana (nirvanaya), their entire story must be one of going against the stream (patisotagami). Their whole story must be one of going upstream. Therefore, the worldly way of achieving things, the way one tried to stabilize a worldly thing—that method, that pattern, cannot be used for a supramundane (lokottara) path. It cannot be done with that method. That is when the question arises for us: "Then what is the path for it? What is its method?" That is when we feel the need for the association of a noble friend (kalyana mitta). That is, to learn it. For that, we need to associate with a noble friend (kalyana mitta); we need to meet, encounter, and discuss with someone who has felt and understood this path to liberation. We need to engage in listening to the true Dhamma (saddhamma shravanaya).
Alright, so let's take an example. Now, for someone, it's craving (tanha) that is the issue. This mind goes and sticks like glue. It just sticks somewhere, just like a snail splattered against a wall, it sticks fast. To any kind of sign (nimitta), it just sticks like a snail, clinging and binding, taking the shape of that object. Just like it takes the shape of the wall. It goes to whatever it is, takes the shape of that object, becomes one with it, and suffers, suffers. So, as a person continues to practice this Dhamma, they themselves will notice that little by little, their inner being, their mindfulness, their life, through the practice of the Dhamma, starts to become like a rubber ball. Meaning, when you throw a rubber ball against a wall, it comes back to this side at the very moment it hits. No matter how much you try to push a ball under the water, the moment you loosen your grip slightly, the ball pops up to the surface of the water. The rubber ball. It doesn't sink. You cannot hold it down. You can't stick it to a wall. It cannot be established anywhere. That is what the state of a person's awakened mind is like. As meditation (bhavana) starts to grow, as meditation (bhavana) starts to develop, they begin to feel, they begin to sense, that their inner self, their life, is starting to become a rubber ball. This means they try to go somewhere and stick to it, but it's not possible to stick to anything and indulge in it. This doesn't mean that compassion has diminished or that lovingness has diminished. But the mind, more and more and more, one begins to realize, is taking on the nature of a rubber ball. It does not associate with any sign (nimitta). Even though there are signs, it doesn't get bound to the signs, doesn't cling to them. Their six sense bases (ayatana)—the eye, ear, nose, tongue, and body—are like rubber balls. Instantly, at the very moment of contact, it immediately, immediately, immediately, immediately just stops on this side. If we want, we can describe this as turning inwards. We can say it turns inwards. Or else, that's all there is to it. It doesn't run with the seeing. It doesn't build a house with the seeing. It doesn't create mental proliferations with the seeing. In other words, with the seeing, the past and future—meaning, the seeing doesn't go to memories. It doesn't go to future expectations of wanting to re-acquire those memories. It is not sent there. One starts to realize this for oneself. One's own inner being, little by little, starts to become like a rubber ball. At the same time, one begins to feel that the mind is... that the speed at which the mind runs to the past and future, its movement to those two sides, has reduced, and it is beginning to zero-in on the present moment.
Now, someone might think, "You just spoke about the result. There's no real point in us discussing the result. Shouldn't we talk about where we enter from? What is the entry point we should take? How do we practice it correctly so that our inner self transforms into such a state?" Alright, so, to begin that, we must start by keeping our attention fully on the point I am making right here, right now. This means, as much as possible, in every action we do... we shouldn't say, "Come to the 'I am here now' as much as possible during the day." But then someone might ask, "Isn't the very notion of 'I' a view?" Yes, the concept of 'I' is a view. However, the 'I' view is closer to the truth than the 'we' view. That is, 'we' is also a view. But when moving to the 'I' view, the burden of defilement is less than that of the 'we' defilement. As an example... now, this talk of 'I' and 'we'... if you have listened to old sermons, do not compare it with those. Because the problem with a sermon is, as I am telling you something like this, if you have listened to a lot of sermons, you will immediately start comparing. "Venerable Sir, you are saying a strange thing now. You always say that 'I' is the problem. To get closer to Nibbana (nivana), we should be 'we'." So, because of that, the mind is not listening to the sermon. What the mind is doing is comparing things. Analyzing. "In that sermon, we heard a different story, to become 'we'." Then you should ask a question. Not to judge it, but to ask, "Venerable sir, what do you mean by 'I' here? If you are saying that the 'we' view is more serious here, relative to this sermon, what do you mean by 'we'?" One must question. Without comparing it to that old sermon, because in that old sermon, the advice to be 'we' was given relative to that particular situation. It was said in relation to selfishness. Otherwise, what we always do is take something that was said in a different context, in a different situation, with a different mental state, and immediately connect it to the context of this sermon, at this time. Now, if you look at the discourses of the Lord Buddha, you will see that the word 'formations' (sankhara) has been explained with different meanings relative to the context. In the five aggregates of clinging (panca upadanaskkhandha), the aggregate of formations (sankhara skandha) has one meaning. In Dependent Origination (paticca-samuppada), 'from ignorance as a condition, formations come to be' (avijja paccaya sankhara) has a different explanation. In 'all formations are impermanent' (sabbe sankhara anicca), there is yet another explanation. So, in that way, when listening to the Dhamma properly, the point we need to understand well is not to mix this with an old sermon from a different context, which was meant to highlight a different point. For instance, think about what I said at the very beginning of today's sermon: that people are alone and not communal. There, 'we' was used to talk about something different—to convey the happiness of the coming together of noble friends (kalyana mitta).
Now, in this phrase I am speaking to you right now... when I say at this moment that the 'I' view is closer to the truth than the 'we' view, the point I am making at this time is, 'I' here refers to the feeling of one's own existence. That is what I mean here. However, that too is a view. That too is a form of personality view (sakkaya ditthi). But still, we do feel 'I', don't we? However, at this moment, when we say 'we', we are connecting another person to that feeling of 'I'. Be it my body, my child, my husband, my wife, my house, or my thoughts—whatever it is, we connect another object to that feeling of 'I'. That connection is what is meant by 'we' here. That is why I said that remaining in the single 'I' view is much closer to the truth, to Nibbana (nivima), than the state of connecting one thing with another. So, look at it carefully. Otherwise, don't get confused. Therefore, limit this example being discussed at this moment to this example only. Otherwise, you might think, "Venerable Sir, you have explained this differently before." At that time, that same analogy was used to highlight the principle of Dhamma relevant to that context. It was used to convey a different meaning there. So, it is like that.
Now, I am going to explain how to start this meditation (bhavana). As I am about to give a sermon on how to begin meditation, here, the value is given to the feeling of 'I'. Because, to do meditation, we cannot do it as a 'we'. To get to a state of meditation, one must be 'I'. However, the feeling of 'I'... listen carefully, I will say it again. I become 'we' if I connect with my name. There, we are. 'My name.' See? The 'I' connected with the name. The 'I' connected with the body. 'My body.' 'My name.' 'My age.' 'I am a woman.' 'I am a man.' See? Another object was connected to the 'I'. To the feeling of 'I', another sign (nimitta) was connected, making it 'we'. My race, my religion, my country, my caste. Therefore, now, as we are about to start meditating, we put aside the 'we' story. This cannot be done with two. This cannot be done with a second. That is why, in Zen Buddhism, when asked, "How do I meditate?" they say, "If not you, who the heck is here? If not now, when the heck is it? If not here, where the heck is it?" That is the saying: "If not me, who the heck is it? If not now, when the heck is it? If not here, where the heck is it?" That is the very beginning of meditation.
So now, when we say we are beginning meditation, let's take a comfortable posture (paryanka). Let's assume we are sitting comfortably. You are not doing any action. You are not going to look at forms. It's okay even if you close your eyes. There's no problem if you keep your eyes open either. But when the eyes are open, there's a tendency to look for objects here and there. Therefore, there is a certain ease in keeping the eyes closed. For some people, when they close their eyes, their thoughts race a bit. For them, it might be easier to just look at a point somewhere. Maybe at a spot on the carpet or a dot in front of them. That depends on what is comfortable for oneself. However, many teachers say that closing the eyes is generally much easier. But in the Buddha's discourses, it is never mentioned to close the eyes. When doing meditation in the cross-legged posture (paryanka), there is no talk of closing the eyes. It says, 'having folded his legs crosswise' (pallankam abhujitva), 'holding the body erect' (ujum kayam panidhaya)—keeping the body comfortably erect—and 'setting mindfulness to the fore' (parimukham satim upatthapetva). It says to bring mindfulness, or awareness, forward, but it does not mention closing the eyes. However, later teachers in meditation centers advise to either half-close the eyes or fully close them if possible. This is because our minds have become very accustomed to accumulating defilements through the eyes. Since we are so used to taking in many objects through the eyes, keeping them closed helps. But for some people, they fall asleep when they close their eyes. After a while, they can't figure out if they are in concentration (samadhi), asleep, or enlightened. It reaches that kind of level. Because their eyes slowly close tighter, and then for some people, it becomes difficult. Anyway, it doesn't matter.
Let's just take an example. We will take an example where you do not direct your attention anywhere at all. Without directing your attention to any direction, just be with that mind that is there, with that feeling of knowing. If the mind wants to take an object, let it take it, but be aware of the object it takes. Let's say we are sitting comfortably. While sitting comfortably, there is the feeling that 'I am sitting here now'. Without directing the mind anywhere, the mind is just free, and there is a feeling of one's own existence. Go and see for how long I can stay with this feeling. Meaning, how long can I be with myself? How long can I remain in the awareness of the feeling that 'I exist'? That is when we realize that no matter what great teachers say, no matter what learned people say, no matter what, I cannot be with myself for even a minute. What this means is that one is that timid, that... even though one acts like a lion, one is a dog. The society of lions means being able to be alone. The ability to be in solitude is the lion's society. There is no such thing as a society of lions, is there? The lion lives alone. If you say a society of lions, it sounds ugly. It's like a pack of dogs then. A pack is needed, a crowd is needed. A lion is a solitary being. Like a rhinoceros. The Buddha said, "O monks, as much as possible, wander alone like the horn of a rhinoceros" (eko careyya khaggavisanakappo). Be a rhinoceros. Don't be one with two horns.
The problem is, sometimes for us, going to that awareness of existence is unbelievably difficult. A feeling like it's a great affliction arises. It's very uncomfortable. For some people, it is. That's when the problem arises. Then their minds fall from the society of lions to the society of dogs. 'I' becomes 'we'; 'I need a we'. Without a 'we', it's like a sickness of loneliness comes. Like a flaw of being alone. Something strange happens. Life feels like it has been washed away. It feels like, 'the best time of my life is being wasted away in a forest.' Like a flower that bloomed in the forest that no one sees, no one picks. It feels like it's just there for nothing. If the thought arose, 'It's a crime for this to have to wither away,' that wouldn't be a problem. But this happens when the flower is in full bloom. Then, we ourselves... these strange stories arise within our inner self. Observe carefully. When you are in this state of awareness of 'being here', do not give much attention to these stories. Because a small thought will arise: "This is enough for me now, I should go." And before many days pass with that thought, that dream, that awareness will manifest it. It won't take many days. Normally, before starting to meditate, if a thought to buy a car arises, it might take years. In this life, it's not like that. After coming to this, if you just think, "This is enough for me now, I need to do something," that's enough. Within two or three days of thinking it, that environment and everything will come together. All of it will start to be received. This means that a kind of... what is it... a mental power enters the thoughts. They become... I mean, even now, what we see as the world is really a story made of thoughts. Each and every one of us lives in this way. We think the world is something that is seen, heard, and felt, but in reality, all of us, even right now, are living within a heap of formations (sankhara). This means we are each living inside a dream that we ourselves create. In that dream, 'I' am the most important person. My mothers, my fathers, my siblings, and my children exist around me. All of this is a conceptual dream built around the center known as 'I'. So, we are all inside this dream of yours and mine. We never question this center. We don't inquire into the center. We don't even look to see how the center was formed or whether the center truly exists. We hold onto the center, and then, around that 'I'... therefore, in everyone's world, they are the hero, they are in the middle. So, they create a large circle, a retinue, around themselves and remain protected within that retinue. This means, having created a circle, they sit at the center of the circle and create a periphery, a surrounding circle. But you must understand, this circle is formed relative to the center, and the periphery exists around the circle because of the center. However, the center also exists by grasping the periphery. The periphery exists relative to the center. These two cannot exist without each other. The existence of these two depends on each other; look closely. The existence of a circle depends on there being a center. A circle cannot exist without a center. Similarly, look closely. The periphery, the circumference, exists because of the center. The center exists because of the circumference. Therefore, there is really no such thing as 'this is important' and 'this is unimportant'.
This is what our entire life is. Our whole life is about clinging to and holding onto this periphery that is based on the 'I'. Now, what I am trying to tell you is to place your attention on the center, not on the periphery. This is what we do when we say we are meditating. But then, that is very difficult. Because then, the existence of the center becomes void. More than the center ceasing to exist, a good understanding arises as to how the center is formed. The moment that understanding arises, we will no longer talk about a center or a periphery. It is precisely because of the lack of understanding about this that there is a story of a center and a periphery. The story of a circle, the circle we call the cycle of existence (samsara). It is called the wheel of samsara, the cycle of existence. This circle turns with this center as its foundation, based on this story. That is why I said that as long as one is grasping a periphery, as long as one is holding onto both the center and the periphery, the view (dhrushtiya) is powerful, as I mentioned in this sermon. The view is incredibly strong. That is why I said, if possible, confine this to the center without letting it turn outwards to the periphery. I am telling you to keep your attention on that very feeling of 'I exist'. I am telling you to remain in that feeling itself. Why do I say remain in the feeling? Because its existence is only sustained as long as it clings to the periphery.
That is what we are afraid of. What I understand is that the main reason people who come to this life of meditation to seek the truth fall away is this: when they keep their attention on the center for a long, long, long time, this fear begins to be felt intensely. Fear starts to arise because it is not something that truly exists. It is a view (dhrushtiya) that it exists. That center is a view that exists relative to the periphery. A view is something that can never be truly experienced. For instance, we might think there is a rainbow, but the rainbow is a view (dhrushtiyak). Although it appears that a rainbow exists, we can never go and catch it. It is not a stable thing. We cannot go to the sky, bring something called a rainbow home, and keep it. We say that the horizon is a perception in our eyes. It means we see the sky and the earth as if they are meeting at a certain point. We call that a view. It is a view in our eyes. It appears that way. The rainbow is a view. It means we see something like a rainbow painted in the sky. In the same way, look closely. We have this view in this life. A view exists, but when we see the horizon, we don't realize it's a view, do we? We see it as if the sky and the earth are actually meeting somewhere. Now, think about it, look at the sky. The sky appears blue to us. But this is a view. Go up into the sky in a plane and see if there is any blue color anywhere. There is no such color there. We see the truth when we go there and look. Go right there, get close to it, and see if the sky is blue. You don't have to just imagine from afar that the horizon and the sky seem close. Go and see for yourself if the sky and the earth have actually met somewhere, or where the sky and the sea have met. Then we will understand. Go close to a rainbow and see if you can touch it, feel it, and see it up close. Can you go there and grasp something called a rainbow?
It's something like that. I am not saying to think that it does not exist. If you do that, you'll just be holding onto another idea I gave you. You must inquire for yourself; you must go on that exploration. Otherwise, you might just cling to what was said about the rainbow and hold the idea that 'the rainbow does not exist'. You might grasp the idea of the horizon and think 'the horizon does not exist'. You might hold onto the very thing you grasped and just think of it as non-existent, and then believe that thought to be the truth. From the very center of 'I', I might think 'there is no I'. That itself becomes a periphery, holding tightly to the idea 'I do not exist'. That is why I say it does not achieve much. I am not saying to think 'I do not exist' or to think 'all this is not-self' (anatta). Instead, as much as possible, try to place your attention on that very feeling of 'I'. That is how you will directly realize it. Otherwise, the concept 'I do not exist' will become another periphery, and the 'I' center will once again be re-established by grasping that concept. By grasping the concept 'I do not exist', it becomes real. Previously, the 'I' was real by grasping the concept 'I am the body'. Then, as one meditates, one might come to think, 'I am the entire universe' or 'I am an energy' or 'I am Brahma' or 'I am a concept'. Or 'I am something or other'. That view is given life through these interpretations of the 'I'. We analyze the cause for the effect in different ways. We hold onto the effect, the 'I', and say, 'It is an energy. The I is something formed in this way. The I is like this.' We solidify the effect and then try to provide a cause for it. 'Ah, this was made like this.' Looking at the effect, we say, 'If this cause is not there, this effect will not be there.' But to say that, we are still starting from the effect. It's like taking the rainbow and saying, 'Ah, okay, the rainbow is formed by the rain and the sun.' But look, when the rain and sun combine, something called a rainbow is not actually formed. See? In the same way, we try to explain how the horizon is formed, and we grasp that non-existent effect and start searching for causes for it. Then we conclude, 'As long as these causes are present, this exists. If we remove the causes, this will cease to exist.' But we don't realize that this is not an understanding of Dependent Origination (Paticca-samuppada). What we get is another analysis, another description in our heads about how this was formed. We just end up with more and more information, a pile of facts in our heads. If one had truly understood Dependent Origination (Paticca-samuppada), there should be a crossing over, shouldn't there? But instead of a crossing over, one has just understood a lot of things. Through many philosophies and many teachings, the amount of things understood has increased. The 'I' who knows has increased. That 'I' center has become stronger and stronger in the end.
That is what I am trying to say in this sermon. Do not go after knowledge more than necessary. Because this has to be realized within oneself, by oneself. The Buddha said that suffering, the cause of suffering, the cessation of suffering, and the path—the Four Noble Truths—must be realized within this fathom-long body with its perception and mind. This laboratory for investigation is here; investigating this elsewhere only brings facts, data. It's like AI. An AI cannot be independently awake. Its awareness is based on the data that has been fed into it. Ask an AI about mindfulness. Ask ChatGPT, ask Bard, ask Gemini. It will tell you the data it has been given about mindfulness. But is the AI itself awake with mindfulness? You can't say that. That is what I am saying. As much as possible... for this journey, we need the association of a noble friend (kalyana mitta), and we need to hear the Dhamma. But our inner journey must be a practical one. If it becomes like going to school, listening to a lesson, and writing an exam, like studying and writing about Buddhism, then nothing has happened. You listened to today's lesson, wrote it in the exam, "Oh, how beautiful, the Paticca-samuppada is explained perfectly from A to Z." You write beautifully how from ignorance as a condition, formations arise; from formations, consciousness arises; and how things are formed this way. Our mind can map this out beautifully. It's a story to be mapped. But even after mapping the story, day by day, the mental pressure increases. Look, at the Peradeniya University, about eight engineering students are said to have committed suicide last year. Mapping skills are very high in engineering. But even with all the mapping, you can see that there is no crossing over, no escape, no liberation, no cooling. Therefore, a map is necessary. When we go somewhere, we use a map. We used to have paper maps, now we have a sister who tells us the directions. So, we use her on Google. So, a map is essential for this. But the map is not the destination. If we look at the map of Nuwara Eliya and assume we have arrived in Nuwara Eliya, that's a mistake. One can memorize the map and even tell someone else about Nuwara Eliya. By looking at the map, one can talk about Nuwara Eliya, the places there, and even the route. However, the person looking at the map is different from the person who has actually arrived, perhaps even without a map, by asking for directions here and there. That too is a kind of map for them. The knowledge of the person who arrived, even if they don't know the map as well as someone who studied it from A to Z, is different. Their direct experience is different. This is why Paccekabuddhas cannot teach the Dhamma. They have arrived at Nuwara Eliya, but they can't explain how they got there. If someone asks how to turn here or there, they can't explain it. Paccekabuddhas have arrived, but they don't know how to explain the path they took because they didn't come with a plan. But the work has been done. However, they cannot map out the path for someone else to get there from where they are. So, not everyone who has arrived can explain the map.
However, the special quality of Buddhas is that they have not only arrived but also know the way. They can explain the map of how to get here from any direction someone might be in. They can map it out and talk about it. That is why the Buddhahood of a Paccekabuddha and a fully enlightened Buddha are different. Although Nibbana is one, not everyone can explain the path. Look at yourselves. If someone asks you for directions, some of you might say, "I don't know, I can't explain it. Give the phone to them, let me talk to them. I can't explain how to get here from there." That's why not everyone who is here can give directions if asked. But sometimes, people who haven't even arrived can give directions. But they haven't been there. They explain it beautifully, from A to Z, "Go this way, then that way." But when you follow their directions, you might find they are wrong. That person has never been there. That can also happen. So, the level of understanding of the person who has arrived and the person who knows the map can sometimes be different. The one with the knowledge from the map might know more than the one who arrived. But in terms of understanding from direct experience, they are different.
That is why I say we are not talking about a map here. The inquiry has to turn inwards. Although we say we are going on an inquiry, it is not really an inquiry in that sense. What I am saying is to try as much as possible to go to that awareness of your own existence and remain there. Stay there and just observe. Remain in the knowing that 'I exist' and see. Then you will understand who you are. But before we can understand that, we quickly cover it up and turn towards other things, towards the external. We try to become 'we' instead of 'I'. That is the obstacle to meditation. The unnecessary trouble in meditation is this. Thoughts are not inherently wrong; they are not something I created. Thoughts just come. When you go to meditate, thoughts coming is not a problem. Sounds are not a problem either. However, we should not actively go searching for them. The natural heat, the wind, the rain—these are not a problem. That is nature, the way things are. That is not the problem in a life of meditation. The problem for us is that due to the pressure within that awareness, over and over again, fear arises, and in that state, there is nothing to do. There is no action to perform. And there is nothing to feel. There is nothing to feel as pleasant, painful, or neutral. Nothing to feel, nothing to do. For some people, this state of awareness becomes a fearful experience. Because there is nothing to feel, boredom and drowsiness come. Because the 'I' has no object to lean on, no support, instability and the fear of death arise. Fear, monotony... that is the flaw in this practice. The thing is, this fear and boredom... I don't know if anyone here has meditated, but if you have practiced mindfulness, there is no one who has not experienced this boredom, monotony, and drowsiness. That is just what is there. It is the person who came for the story of happiness who gives up, thinking, "What is this? Is this a life?" They were expecting Nibbana to be something different, a state of just being blissful. Now they think, "What is this that has happened to my life?" So, one goes to the awareness of 'being here' and then thinks, "What is this life?" That craver, that part that came for a continuous pleasure, now has doubts. "Is what we are doing correct? Is this the right path? Is this the true path taught by the Lord Buddha, the noble ones, the teachers?" In this way, doubt (vicikiccha) arises in the mind. Indecision arises. They doubt themselves. Or else, they don't feel like doing anything. This is sloth and torpor (thina-middha). These five hindrances (nivarana) are the obstacles. I am mentioning the five hindrances because, as we go on, we begin to feel a kind of increase in the five hindrances within us. This means sensual desire (kamacchanda), ill-will (vyapada)... sometimes, ill-will means an irritation arises. That is, while staying in that awareness of 'I am here now' for a long time, without paying special attention to thoughts or sounds externally, but just letting them be felt while remaining in that state of awareness... sometimes, when the consciousness (vinnana) has nothing to cling to, a strange irritation... I was taught that it can take four forms. One is that sometimes, a strange anger arises towards oneself: "I can't do this. My mind won't stay still. I am fed up with all of this." This kind of aversion towards oneself arises. "Why am I getting fed up with this? Why can't I continue this happily? No matter how much I try to stay on track, I get derailed again." This kind of aversion towards oneself begins to arise. Or else... look, while in that state of awareness, the mind's dislike for this awareness, for this Nibbana, takes the form of aversion in life. Sometimes it takes the form of... this is very strange... sometimes it takes a form like, "The vibration (vibe) here is not suitable for this meditation. It's too chaotic now. It's not calm like before." It used to be like a hermitage, but now it's like a field, like the Premadasa Stadium, too open. In that way, little by little, the environment has also become too open now. It seems no one is meditating properly anymore; everyone is doing all sorts of strange things. They've come to attain Nibbana, but they are living lives with more defilements than their old worldly lives. Ordinary people are better than these people who have come to attain Nibbana. In that way, that form of aversion sometimes turns towards oneself. Or else, it turns outwards. If it doesn't turn either way, the most dangerous thing is that it turns towards the teacher. This means, in the end, one gets angry with the teacher. The reason is unknown. One doesn't feel like talking. There is no happiness in seeing them. There is an aversion. One doesn't understand, "Why am I so angry with him? What did he do to me?" Or, when asked, they say, "Well, there is a responsibility, isn't there? The person who created a system like this should be responsible for it. If not him, who else should be held responsible for these things? The creator should be accountable." In that way, all the blame for not planning this properly, for not providing the necessary facilities, for not removing the unnecessary people and keeping only the necessary ones—all that comes out. That aversion, it just comes and... we can't find the root of where this aversion is coming from. We don't understand the origin of this aversive state. This is because we have been meditating and keeping our awareness... for a long, long time. So, the mind wants to somehow push this out, to project it onto something external. Then, with that aversion, I have a mental proliferation. "I am not right. That person is like this, this place is not good." Grabbing onto the teacher, one can analyze them for hours. Grabbing onto the place, or someone, and... some days when we go for a bath, some people... I say, "It's very difficult, isn't it, venerable sir?" Because they don't have anyone to talk to. I say, "Alright, take it, take it. Just blame it on someone, and then it will be alright." They don't realize it. They take some scapegoat and say, "Oh, this is not right, is it?" And they put all the blame on them without even realizing it. Hours pass, and they don't notice. They don't even realize they are bathing. It's like King Rajasinghe, when he couldn't solve a court case, he had a whipping boy brought in and said, "Give this boy a couple of lashes." He had a whipping boy to release his stress. We say, "Now, he has taken me as his target today." It's not relevant. Because one cannot just be, one grabs onto someone who is passing by. And keeps doing something to them. We don't know who will get caught as the whipping boy. Yes, someone is taken and criticized. In that way, our whole life is about finding a whipping boy. It's not relevant to them, and it's of no use to us. No matter how they are, we say, "What a great crime, he could have attained Nibbana. What has he done to himself?" It's their life, their choice. It's none of our business. But we can't stay in that state. Because we cannot stay in that solitude, in that inner silence, as it cools down, as the attention goes to the very root of the ego... what is realized is the absence of 'I'. But 'I' do not directly experience the absence of 'I'. It just vanishes. There isn't even anyone left to experience it. If one keeps their attention there continuously, it is terrifying. The thought of ever coming back to this world, of even seeing this world again... that is the fear. This association ends. The 'we' story ends, and the 'I' story also ends. There is no 'ours' and no 'mine'. In the end, there is no 'we' and no 'I'.
So, because of that, in that fear, that great aversion arises. That is what is called the hindrance of ill-will (vyapada nivaranaya). This truth, this awareness... if one goes to that awareness, to that feeling of 'I', and holds the attention there tightly, the chest feels like it's being torn apart. The root of the heart is squeezed, and the breastbone feels like it's breaking inwards. The 'I' is being broken down and is sinking inside. That's a problem. Then, for that person, what life is there? After attaining Nibbana, where is the person to come back and tell someone what Nibbana is? Or at least to enjoy the taste of a cup of green tea. There's no such taste, no perception. There is nothing to even signal, to say 'I have attained Nibbana'. Even the slightest taste of astringency, like from a weak tea, is not there. When that is not there, we feel a great desire to become 'we', to have an 'ours'. That's when that desire comes. That's why I said being 'we' is too much. If one stays as 'I'... but because it's difficult to stay as 'I', we have a great desire to be 'we'. That is the challenge in meditation. See if you can, for as long as possible, try to keep the attention on that very feeling of 'I exist'. That's it. At the beginning, it's like that. But as you stay with it, you realize that this is not a pleasure, even though you came seeking happiness in Nibbana. This is a struggle at first, a raw loneliness. Then one thinks, "Either this is wrong, or the teacher is wrong, or this place is wrong, or this system, this path is wrong." One looks for a way to blame something. The next thing is to find a way to blame something. Or else, one thinks, "The map we have is wrong," and starts searching for the right map. "There must be a right map to Nibbana somewhere. Our map is wrong, we have come to the wrong place because the map is wrong." Or, "I don't know, maybe I should go to some other forest." Because of that aversion to being in the present moment, to being mindful of the feeling of 'I exist'... it is because of that aversion that we struggle to do something, even to attain Nibbana. We try to do something out of our aversion to Nibbana itself. Out of the fear of Nibbana. Because when one is extinguished (nibbuto), it is not just samsara that ceases, but the 'I' also ceases along with it. The one who experiences all this, that center, disappears along with the periphery. The periphery alone does not stop, leaving the center as a separate entity. When the periphery erodes, the circle wears away, the middle also goes with it. There is no middle left. There is no point to be found called the middle. The point called the middle, the center, was like a dualistic entity that existed relative to something else. So, look closely.
That fear is what comes as drowsiness when one tries to meditate. It comes as doubt. It comes as aversion. Know well that all of these... sometimes it comes in the form of sensual desire (kamacchanda). It comes in the sense that things that were once considered useless now start to appear beautiful again. Phones that were put away are taken out, and blocked contacts are unblocked little by little. One starts asking for things that were given up. The number is remembered again, and a message is even sent. Maybe for a special day, just to send a greeting. Whatever it is, that connection is re-established from somewhere. One has to find a beginning to start the connection again. Otherwise, it's shameful, there's a certain pride. One can't just go and say, "I am feeling lonely, can you have me back?" So, a starting point is found somewhere. A smile is exchanged again. A birthday gift is given. And little by little... In that way, the mind tries again and again. The mind makes an effort... then it... Now, imagine one is in a place like America, and the other is in Iceland. There is nothing that can be done. The consciousness cannot travel that far. So it looks for something closer, in this area. Within these seven acres. The consciousness tries to see if there is something within this acre. The consciousness is also very cunning. It doesn't go straight for it, craving and desiring openly. It doesn't go like that. It looks for something nearby that can be enjoyed, a kind of substitute. "Isn't there at least a substitute?" Something that resembles the original. Even a dummy will do. The consciousness tries to find even a dummy here. Because that is the nature of the mind.
This is what I am saying. This is what the Buddha pointed out. When going towards Nibbana, these five hindrances (nivarana) are the things that cover Nibbana. The hindrances veil Nibbana. This union with the truth, this seeing of our true nature, this cooling, this calming, this cessation (nirodha)... but the problem is, when we hear these words, we think of it as going from a state of having something to a state of not having something. That is also a subtle view. I didn't understand this well before, but now I do. From these very words, we think Nibbana might be about getting rid of something that exists and going somewhere else. There is a sense of 'not, not, not' in these words, a feeling of an existing thing becoming non-existent. But what I understand now is that it is not even that. In that story, it is not just a becoming non-existent. There is nothing left to even grasp as 'non-existent'. There is no ground to stand on, no establishment to be gained, in either 'is' or 'is not'. Anyway, just consider this point. In that way, while staying in that awareness of 'I exist', in that solitude... the way I see it, the best thing is to not cry about it, not to whine about it. It's like those boys who climb trees and scrape their knees, ride bicycles, and jump into canals. Their knees are all scraped up. But they don't whine, do they? Because they like it. If they whine, they won't be allowed to go out from home. If they say it hurts, they won't be allowed to climb trees or jump in the canal again. So, no matter how much it hurts, they act as if nothing is wrong. "Are you crazy? What are you talking about?" We were like that in our childhood, weren't we? We knew that if we said it hurts, we would have to stay home for a week. No more playing cricket, no more cycling, no more climbing trees. So, even if it hurt, we wouldn't tell our mothers. Only if it was so bad that we couldn't get up in the morning would they know. Then they would take us to the hospital. Until then, we try our best not to tell. I'm speaking from my own life experience. If you tell, it's over. Then they take you to all sorts of doctors, and you can't do anything you want in life. Then you have to stay in bed. And you can't stay in bed, can you? You are restless inside. As kids, we can't stay still. So even when there was pus oozing from the wound, we would still be running around. We would scrape the same spot again. It would bleed again. It would get infected again. But we endured it, didn't we? We didn't go whining to our mothers. We didn't cry. We smiled and said it was nothing. There was pain, yes.
That's what this is about. As one goes towards Nibbana, there is a little bit of scraping. It is not what you think it is at the beginning. It's not the magic you imagine. As a person approaches the moment of death, the attachment to even this solitude wears away. That tendency to talk about it in a grand way also fades. But what we did in the world was, when we got tired of the man or woman we were with, we would secretly find another match and move on. We don't do that kind of dishonest work here. That is the only secret. When we were out there, when we got tired of something, we would find a secret match and do some underhand deals. This is not like that. As we continue on this path, that solitude itself wears away. So we don't create a secret life. It is the same life we are living. It is difficult, and we stay with that difficulty. There is no hidden life. So, even when you go to the teacher, you don't go and whine. Even in front of the whole Sangha, the loneliness is real. But there are no secret deals underneath. That quality is necessary here. The loneliness is there. It's like a child's wound. It hurts. There is an ache inside. But you don't keep crying about it. If you whine, it's more trouble. Everyone will ask, "What happened to you? Why are you like that? Should we go to the hospital? Did you eat something bad?" So, it's better to keep quiet. It's because we keep our mouths shut that they don't take us to the hospital. They know that no matter what, we will keep quiet and act as if nothing is wrong. Then no one will take us to a mental hospital. Otherwise, if you write down what a person in ward 28 thinks and what we think on a piece of paper, there won't be much difference. He just blurts out everything that comes to his mind. The moment he does that, people label him as crazy and lock him up.
So what we do now is, as much as possible, we stay with this without whining or crying. But there is no secret life. Even if we do something wrong, we tell everyone. "I saw this, I got defiled like this, I felt this way." Then it's a huge mess. Everyone who is associated with you is finished. "We can't do anything with you. You go and confess everything to the whole group. You not only expose your own nakedness but ours as well." That's the problem. "We could have saved our own skin, but because of what you did, we are also finished. How can we face them now? I also like to do wrong things, just like you. But the only difference is that I can't keep it a secret. I go and tell. Then the next day, they won't take me along for any mischief. If they take him, everything will be over. He will go and tell the police everything. In the end, it's not just him, but we will also be in trouble." So, little by little, no one comes to us for any secret deals. Even if they do, we will tell. And you can't do anything without a second person. The other party also knows that it's a dangerous situation. "If I do something with him, I am also finished." So we become lonely by default. All the people who do wrong things get angry with us. "We can't do anything with him. He starts to reveal everything." So, the inner self is revealed. When it is revealed, no one comes to us for deals anymore. "It's a dangerous situation with him. If you do a deal with him, it will be known all over the place. We will also be stripped naked." So that is good. I think karma also ends there. Karma doesn't accumulate much then. Because it's over while it's still hot. It doesn't mean that mistakes are not made. But there is an inability to hide them. It is said that a stream-enterer (sohan) does not make mistakes in the sense that they cannot hide them. Mistakes happen. But they cannot go on with a secret story. That is where the stinking personality view (sakkaya ditthi) is... that 'I'... becomes heavy and exhausting, and all the views in the monastery start to seem like... that is when that feeling comes. That everyone is an enemy trying to trip us up. Scolding everyone in our minds. "This society is cruel." But when you reveal it, you begin to understand that people who live secret lives cannot associate with you. And karma ends there and then.
So, when our inner self begins to be conditioned to this level, when it starts to form in this way... look closely. In the hindrance of sensual desire (kamacchanda), when one is in that state of awareness, I said that one looks for a dummy in the surroundings. In the same way, even if that specific person or that specific food is not there, the mind latches onto a similar food, or something close to it. The mind starts to seek pleasure in a place that is somewhat close to it. But if we were outside, it wouldn't be like that. We wouldn't go for something like that. We would look for the original. But here, the original is not available. So it doesn't matter, even if it's a fake. As long as the color and shape are similar, even if the quality is not there, it's okay. Then the consciousness starts to take that as its object. The consciousness, the object... it starts to come back to the periphery, to the external. Coming to the external. That is why I said it is not a mistake. When it is revealed, its power is broken. The secret is no longer maintained. All those tendencies need to be revealed. After revealing them, look and see. The mind wants to experience pleasure. We are all suffering because of the desire to experience pleasure. We do everything because of the craving for pleasant feelings (sukha vedana). Many people are interested in Nibbana because they think it is a state of unchanging pleasant feeling. So, understand that underneath all this is the desire for pleasant feelings and the aversion to painful feelings. That is the battle of our lives. We try to stabilize pleasant feelings somehow. We try to push away painful feelings from our lives. "I need to be free from this suffering. I need to be liberated from this suffering. I need to get out of the four woeful states." And what is underneath the desire to get out of the four woeful states? It is the getting away from painful feelings. Then look, we say, "I want to attain Nibbana and go to a happy state (sugati)." Do we know what a happy state is? We don't. We just imagine it to be a place with more pleasure than this. Look underneath both of these—the desire to escape the four woeful states and the desire to go to a happy state, to Nibbana. We have often explained this as the rejection of pain and the attainment of pleasure. These two are what keep the wheel turning. If you pay close attention to what I am saying, you will understand. Why do I truly want to go to a happy state (sugati)? Why do I truly want to escape hell? Because there is suffering there. We have heard about it, we don't know for sure. There is pleasure in the heavens. We don't know if it's a more boring place than this. But we have heard that one can dance, sing, and play music more there, that there are divine flowers and all sorts of things. So, underneath these desires, if one brings mindfulness, one will realize that it is the craving for pleasant feelings (sukha vedana) and the aversion to painful feelings (dukkha vedana). This means that behind pleasant feelings, there is a latent tendency of greed (raga anusaya). Behind painful feelings, there is a latent tendency of aversion (patigha anusaya). That is what is called the latent defilements (anusaya kilesa). There is a latent tendency of aversion to painful feelings, and a latent tendency of greed for pleasant feelings. The mind is greedy to attain that pleasant feeling, to experience that feeling again and again by eating that food, getting that touch, or seeing that form. There is a kind of craving within. In this way, behind both pleasant and painful feelings, these latent defilemonts, the latent tendency of aversion and the latent tendency of greed, are at work.
It is these latent defilements that are eradicated when one becomes an Arahant. Becoming an Arahant means the eradication of these latent defilements. It is not that painful feelings cease, but the aversion to pain ceases. It is not that pleasant feelings cease, but the latent tendency of greed to want to experience them again and again is worn away. So now, the yogi who is in this state of awareness, in this mindfulness, can now understand this in a better way. This aversion to painful feelings and desire for pleasant feelings... then I understood that what is pleasant for me can be painful for another person. Now, if this is pleasant, it should be felt as pleasant by everyone. If it is painful, it should be felt as painful by everyone. But even though there is craving for both pleasure and pain, examine this pleasure and pain themselves. Then we begin to understand that pain is relative to each person's memory. Look closely. Sometimes, when you see the same person, if your memory of them is that they are a wonderful person who did something good for you, then seeing that person with that memory is pleasant. If another person has been scolded by them, their memory is that this is the person who said such and such to me. Looking through that memory, we can see that it is painful for that person to see them. So, the same person is seen by two people. They are both looking at the same picture. At the same time, both of them are seeing one photo. If a photo of someone is put on the wall, one person feels great happiness and love upon seeing it. The other person feels great pain upon seeing the same picture. They quickly leave that place, not wanting to look at it.
But look now, and inquire into what I am saying. Then the pleasure and pain cannot be in the picture. If it were in the picture, then both should feel it as pleasant when they see the same picture. But both are seeing the same picture. Both are seeing a picture. But the way their memory interprets this present picture is different. The interpretation that the memory superimposes on it is different. It is relative to that superimposition that the picture becomes pleasant or painful. Now, you must understand this well. Pleasure and pain are not in people or objects. The feeling of pleasure and pain is in perception (sanna). Perception is memory. It is based on that memory that we determine whether the present moment is a place of pleasant feeling, painful feeling, or neutral feeling. The clinging to feeling (vedana upadana) is established relative to memory, relative to perception. There is no independent feeling of pleasure, pain, or neutrality. Feelings do not have an independent existence as pleasant or painful. They need to be matched with memories. Now you will understand.
So, our whole life... think about it now. When you see me at this moment, any feeling of happiness, sadness, or anything else arises because of a previous memory of me—"This is that venerable monk, the one who said this, who did this for us." It is when that memory is entangled with the perception of this moment, with this seeing, that you feel happiness, sadness, or neutrality upon seeing me. Or, if the perception entangled with this seeing is 'I have never seen him before', then a neutral feeling arises. I have neither pleasure nor pain because the perception is 'I don't even know him'. A child asks, "Mom, what is that?" See? The child is entangling the perception of 'not knowing' with the seeing. Then it becomes an experience for the child. But for you, it might be a neutral experience, most of the time. But even that neutrality comes from a perception, a memory. That's why one asks, "What is that? Who is that monk?" That also comes by connecting the seeing to a memory.
Now, look at this closely. It's getting a bit late, so I'll try to shorten the sermon. Look closely. Every time a feeling of pleasure or pain arises in us, it comes only through a memory. Now, think about it. If we are always seeing only one picture at a time—both people are seeing the picture that is present at that moment—but they interpret it as 'this is so-and-so' by comparing it to a previously seen picture, which is an old memory. They are experiencing it through a story related to a past memory. Without that, they cannot interpret the picture they are seeing. If the memory is not connected to the seeing. Then all these problems are in the memory. If the memory is deleted, everything is over. So, what is the memory? How is the memory formed? When we think of so-and-so, that they did this or that, we are seeing pictures from those moments in life. The Buddha said, "The world, O monks, is a picture." "Lust for concepts is a man's sensual pleasure" (sankappa rago purisassa kamo). A person creates pleasure or pain here through their concepts, through their memories. A conceptual lust arises in people, a pleasant feeling. These pictures themselves cannot create any feeling. The picture is in a place where it cannot know anything. That picture is what we call the present moment in meditation. That present moment cannot be known, cannot be analyzed. The story of the present moment, this picture, is described only through an old memory. The moment that old memory comes, a future expectation is formed: "Oh, I don't want to see him, I don't want to be near him." Or, "Oh, I would love to see her again." Look what happens to the present 'I' if you remove the old memory and the future expectation. What happens to the person who is being seen in the present? What happens to the seeing?
We take the world we see in the present moment by combining two pieces: the expectation and the memory. In this moment. Then we feel that there is someone called 'I', and that I can see you, touch you. But look closely, try removing those two pieces. Try removing the future expectation and the past memory. And see what happens to the present moment. Then see if you can establish or find the present moment. The seeing is perceived only if it is connected to a memory. This seeing becomes real, with a seer and a seen, only if expectations are connected to it. When those are removed, look and see. Then the present moment is emptiness (sunnata). The present moment is the nature of non-arising (anuppada). Even though we use the word 'present moment', look and see. Then you will understand who 'I' am. When you go to that awareness and stay there without connecting the memory... don't try to delete the memory. The memory is the intention 'you, venerable sir'. That is a memory. It's not that you existed as 'venerable sir' at any time. Even the first time I say 'you, venerable sir', what I am seeing is a sight, isn't it? In that color, 'you, venerable sir' is not there. This sound that is heard is a sound; in the sound, 'you, venerable sir' is not there. If I touch, it is a feeling; in the feeling, 'you, venerable sir' is not there. So, the intention that I think of as 'you, venerable sir'... I am not thinking of the color as 'you, venerable sir'. I am not thinking of the sound as 'you, venerable sir'. I am not thinking of the feeling when I touch as 'you, venerable sir'. So, can the intention 'you, venerable sir' be made into a memory? That intention becomes a memory only if a color, a shape, a sound—a sight, sound, smell, taste, or touch—is connected to it. His form, his shape, his smell, his touch... his voice. Now, you think this is the venerable monk's voice. But within the sound itself, there is no story of a 'voice'. In the present moment, there is no story of sight, sound, smell, taste, or touch. Then, look and see if the intention 'venerable sir', the thought of 'venerable sir', has any meaning in itself. To think of 'venerable sir' is not to think of this color. To think of 'venerable sir' is not to think of this sound. To think of 'venerable sir' is not to think of this feeling. Then the intention 'venerable sir' is empty in itself. So, have we ever seen the same person twice, or even once? Not twice, not even once.
That is what happens when one becomes mindful. As you become more and more aware, you become the true nature of reality here. There is a small problem with the words "become," as it makes us think that something that exists is disappearing. It's not about something disappearing. One sees the reality of this. A volition is just a volition. It doesn't mean that there is a separately existing volition that can be seen again and again. The very word "volition" gives it an existence. Let me give a final example to finish, as it is already 10:22 PM. Imagine we go in front of a mirror. After seeing something in the mirror, do we think that the form of that person, the shape of that person... that those volitions... go in front of a mirror and look. You can see a shape, a color. In that shape and color, do we think that the form of the person in the mirror, the shape and color of the person in the mirror... we don't think that, do we? We know that even though I think there is someone there in the mirror, that very thought has no meaning in itself. Because when you go in front of a mirror, even though you say 'the color of the person in the mirror', 'the form of the person in the mirror', is there a separate form of a person in the mirror? Is it a color of a person in the mirror? A shape? So, imagine if your whole life is like that. The things you think about each person are like thinking about a person in the reflection of a mirror. Animals think like that, don't they? A pigeon sees its own reflection and thinks there is another bird there, and pecks at it. Then you can see that even though it has the volition, the thought that there is the form and sound of another bird, there is no such story there. Even though a volition is formed, the seeing and hearing have no such connection.
This is how the noble ones interact with the world. It is like a reflection in a mirror. So, any volition that arises—"Oh, the person in the mirror is beautiful. Is that me? Is that you, venerable sir?"—cannot be projected onto the seeing as a person. That wisdom begins to operate. That knowledge begins to operate.
May this sermon be a cause and condition for all of you to realize this supramundane Dhamma.
Original Source (Video):
Title: āˇāļ´් āļ´ුāļģ āļ´āˇāļŊොāˇ්āˇāļ āļ´ොāˇෝ āļ¯ා āˇāļ¯āˇāļ¸් āļ¯ේāˇāļąාāˇ ~ đĒˇ | āļ´ූāļĸ්āļēāļ´ාāļ¯ āļ āļŊුāļ්āļāļ¸්āļොāļŠ āļ¤ාāļĢāˇීāļģ āˇ්āˇාāļ¸ීāļą් āˇāˇāļą්āˇේ
https://www.youtube.com/live/QRfFbdcaspQ?si=96ioPif3X2Z_FHU3
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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