The Science Behind the Mind | Madhupiṇḍika Sutta Part 2 | Thiththagalle Anandasiri Thero

මුල් සිංහල වීඩියෝව සඳහා Play කරන්න

The Science Behind the Mind | Madhupiṇḍika Sutta Part 2 | Thiththagalle Anandasiri Thero

 
A Note on the Source Text: This translation was prepared from a transcript of the original video recording. As the source transcript may have contained inaccuracies, there may be variations between this text and the original audio, particularly in the spelling of personal names, the titles of Suttas, and the rendering of Pali verses.


Today, we are going to discuss the remainder of the Madhupiṇḍika Sutta. Before that, let's recall what we have been talking about recently: the sense of self, or 'I-ness' (mamathvaya), and the cessation of identity view (sakkāya diṭṭhi). As you listen to these sermons, you begin to understand that this 'I-ness' is a problem. Can we all see how this sense of self operates within us, or not? Yes, we can.

However, when we consider the Buddha's Dispensation (Sāsana), we see that this entire structure is designed around the cessation of identity view (sakkāya diṭṭhi). You may recall the story about Venerable Angulimala that was mentioned in a previous sermon. When compassion arose in him, he wanted to do something to help heal the suffering woman. However, he first went and asked the Buddha. We can see from this that he sought guidance. The Dispensation is structured in this very way. One does not act without first consulting a senior or more experienced practitioner. Now, if we were at home, we wouldn't go asking our mother or father for permission before going to help someone, would we? But in the Dispensation, it is structured this way everywhere. This means that even if we listen to the Dhamma, it is through its practical application that we can truly work towards this cessation (nirodha). Why? Because it is when we are acting, when we are interacting with others, that our sense of 'I-ness' arises.

Even in this sutta, the Buddha was there with the monks. He delivered a brief teaching and then departed. Afterwards, if someone had wanted to, they could have said, "I think I understood a little of that; I will explain it." But no one said such a thing. They didn't say, "I understood a bit of it." Surely, there must have been someone there who understood something. Yet, no one spoke up like that. Instead, they decided to see the Venerable Kaccāyana, as the Buddha himself had indicated that he could explain it. The monks, his companions in the holy life (sabrahmacārī), thought to approach him. Why didn't they speak up themselves? Because a wise person knows that if they try to explain what little they understand, they might miss the opportunity to learn the deeper points they haven't yet grasped.

What happens in ordinary society today? As soon as someone learns a little something, they are eager to talk about it. They consider it a sign of weakness to ask for clarification from someone with greater knowledge and understanding. That is the common way, isn't it? But within the Dispensation, this respectful approach is the norm. In every instance where this humility was absent, a crisis has arisen. We see this in the Vinaya Piṭaka. Take the crisis that arose among the monks at Kosambi; the sense of 'I-ness' was at its root. No one would listen to what anyone else said. You see, when the sense of 'I-ness' takes root, it becomes a major problem for the entire world. It gives rise to conflicts, quarrels, and all forms of discord. But the Dispensation is structured to prevent this. It establishes a clear order of seniority and respect. Even if someone makes a mistake, there is a prescribed way to resolve it. The entire system is designed this way.

So, in the next part of the sutta we are discussing today, when the monks go and make their request, the Great Arahant Maha Kaccāyana doesn't just jump to explain it. He doesn't say, "Ah yes, I understand what he said." What does he say instead? He says, "The Blessed One is our guide, the Blessed One is the root of the Dhamma" (Bhagavan nettikā, bhagavan mūlikā). He reminds them that the Buddha is the source, asking them something like, "Why do you come looking for leaves and branches when the great trunk of the tree is right there?" Otherwise, he could have just said, "Oh, that? The Buddha understands it, and so do I." That’s how people often are today, isn’t it? This shows they haven't even felt the warmth of the Dispensation. That is why when someone declares, "I have attained realization," I know that they have simply concocted some kind of delusion for themselves. It is by creating such a delusion that one acts this way. The Dispensation is not like that at all.

The monks in the sutta didn't give up. They pleaded with him, saying, "Venerable Sir, please explain it to us. We will ask the Blessed One himself when we have the opportunity." You see? The Dispensation is designed in this way. In its practical application, there is no room for the sense of self, for 'I-ness.' There is no room for one's ego, for one's sense of self-importance. Even someone like Angulimala, who had killed so many people, who had a fearsome reputation and terrorized an entire country, once he entered the Dispensation, he lived according to a system that was designed to completely eradicate that sense of 'I-ness.'

He no longer goes about seeking what is 'right' and what is 'wrong.' The idea that "this is right, I am right" fades away with the establishment of mindfulness (sati). Once mindfulness is established, one understands that they are simply getting caught up and entangled in conceptual proliferation (papañca). There is no inherent 'right' or 'wrong' to be found in the world. There is the eye and there are forms; there is the ear and there are sounds. It is only beyond that point, in the world of conceptual proliferation (papañca), that we search for 'right' and 'wrong.'

That is the section we are discussing today. Therefore, this perception of right and wrong is something born of ignorance (avijjā), of foolishness. It is not that a person is finding some inherent right or wrong in what is simply there. We create something in our minds, grasp it as being real, and cling to that source for a 'person' (purisa nidhāna). Then, based on that, we engage in arguing and reasoning, completely confusing the mind. Therefore, when listening to this Dhamma, you must understand through practical experience, with mindfulness (sati) established, that this is a system for the cessation of 'I-ness' (mamathvaya). It is then that the questions arise: "So, 'I' don't attain liberation (Nibbāna)? In that case, who is it that attains liberation?" When asked this, you cannot simply say, "It is not 'I'." What you receive, then, is a crossing over. From what? A crossing over. It is a crossing over from identity view (sakkāya). The Buddha's Dispensation (Sāsana) is for the purpose of crossing over, not for an individual person to acquire results. Although we may speak in such terms for conventional purposes, when we discuss the inner reality, this is the situation.

So, when you are engaged in this practice, following such a system, it is truly beautiful. There is less conflict. Why? Because you remain mindful. You know that if a conflict arises, the problem is not external. What are we discussing here? It is not about some external mechanism. This teaching is about how the mind works internally.

Now, the Buddha was asked, "What is your doctrine? What do you proclaim?" He replied, "I hold a view and proclaim a teaching whereby one does not quarrel with anyone in the world with its gods, its Māras, and its Brahmās." That is the kind of vision, the kind of teaching that I hold and proclaim. The questioner did not understand. Later, when the monks were told this, they also did not understand. So when they asked the Buddha again, he added another piece. He explained how one cultivates such a life-philosophy. When that wasn't understood, the discussion led to where we left off yesterday: “Yato nidānaṃ bhikkhu purisaṃ papañca saññā saṅkhā samudācaranti…” — "Bhikkhu, whatever the source (nidhāna), due to which perceptions and concepts born of conceptual proliferation assail a person..."

This means, whatever source a monk takes as a basis—identifying a 'person' and then acting upon that basis—it is that very thing... what is that thing? It is the object that has been taken as a source (nidhāna). When we think about something, there is always a source for that thought. For example, say you think about your mother. What happens? The mind takes the object, and through that, along with mind-consciousness (mano viññāṇa), we begin to think and create mental images (citta rūpa). This is the process that is being described here. So, if we do not have a source (nidhāna), we cannot think or engage in conceptual constructs (papañca saṅkhā).

What is meant by conceptual proliferation (papañca)? The term papañca—and I have looked this up in several good dictionaries—has many meanings. It refers to the way the mind repeatedly builds upon an object, the way it creates a concept, the way it forms a mental image. The Blessed One said that with regard to that source for a 'person' (purisa nidhāna), “tattha ce natthi abhinanditabbaṃ, abhivaditabbaṃ, ajjhositabbaṃ…” — “There is nothing there to be delighted in, nothing to be welcomed, nothing to be clung to.” This means there is no desire for that source, no attachment to it. One does not grasp it. Once you stop there, everything that follows comes to an end.

And at that very point, “eso evanto rāgānusayānaṃ, eso evanto paṭighānusayānaṃ, eso evanto diṭṭhānusayānaṃ…” — “This is the end of the underlying tendencies to lust, this is the end of the underlying tendencies to aversion, this is the end of the underlying tendencies to views.” This means there is no opportunity for lust (rāga) to arise. There is no room for conflict. It is only when we take something as a source (nidhāna) that we develop an attachment, a desire for it. And it is based on that source that we get into conflicts, saying, "What you are saying isn't right! What I think is correct. This is how it happened." That is the ordinary way.

In some places, like in one of the suttas from the Middle Length Discourses, the Buddha poses a question. In response, different monks express their own ideas. One says the past and the future are the two extremes, and the present is the middle. Another speaks of consciousness (viññāṇa). Yet another speaks of name-and-form (nāma-rūpa) as the middle. But notice, even though their points seem to contradict one another, no one ever says that their view is correct and another's is wrong. They don't say, "What I am saying is the truth, and the others are mistaken." Why not? Because that is the nature of the Dispensation (Sāsana). This is about achieving a crossing over, not about receiving something for oneself. They are speaking from the wisdom (paññā) that has become clear to them. Each person has seen it from their own particular angle. Therefore, they cannot speak on behalf of another's perspective.

Now, what do we say in the ordinary world? One takes a view, an angle. One thinks that only that perspective is correct and leaves no room for anyone else's angle. Why? Because driven by the sense of 'I-ness' (mamathvaya), one has grasped that source for a 'person' (purisa nidhāna), developed lust (rāga) for it, and is ready to argue and defend it. Having arrived at a particular view (diṭṭhi), all of this follows. One becomes prepared for quarrels, disputes, arguments, anger—anything. This is the root of every conflict, isn't it?

It’s like the number nine drawn on the ground. The person on one side sees it as a nine, while the person on the other side sees it as a six. Now, a person in the ordinary world who possesses some wisdom—not the wisdom of Dhamma-realization, but the conventional wisdom we discussed in the Cankī Sutta—what did the brahmin Cankī say? He explained that even ordinary people do not insist that what they accept on faith is absolutely correct, nor do they reject it as completely wrong. They remain open on both sides. Why? Because someone else might see something more, from a different angle. The way a person sees things, the source (nidhāna) they base their view on, and the way they reason and think, all depend on their perspective.

However, when you take a person with a strong sense of 'I-ness,' they will insist that only their way of thinking is correct. Even after listening to so much Dhamma, this is how they operate. For such a person, there can be no cessation of identity view (sakkāya diṭṭhi). They have a need to believe that what they think is right. And what happens next? Inevitably, there will be conflict. And following that, they will take up sticks and weapons, engage in slander, harsh speech, and lying—they will do anything to prove their point. Every single problem in the external world, from wars between nations to problems in the home, conflicts between parents and children, and even disputes within a temple between two people, arises in this way: by clinging to the angle one sees. Arguing is the normal way, isn't it?

The Buddha, on the other hand, is said to have none of this. What this describes is the Buddha’s way of living in the world, his mental state. The question was about how the Buddha saw the world, how he saw the mind. They asked him, "What do you proclaim? What is your view? What is your vision?" So you see, there is no room for any of that. This is what it means for the mind to be cooled, to be at peace. And why is it cooled? Because with regard to that source for a 'person'—as stated in the line “yato nidānaṃ...”—there is no way to engage in the proliferation of conceptual constructs (papañca saṅkhā samudācaranti). How? By not welcoming it with delight. But that is not what we do. When an object arises for us, we welcome it with delight. And what happens after that? “Papañca saṅkhā samudācaranti”—the proliferation of conceptual constructs occurs.

Therefore, as you listen to this, you must understand that it is in the practical application that you will work towards the cessation of identity view (sakkāya diṭṭhi). As this becomes clearer, you need to understand your own mind and see that this is precisely what has been happening. If you understand it in this way, what happens next? You will find a crossing over. Your mind will cross over. The mind becomes liberated. You can attain the liberation of mind (ceto vimutti).

If this doesn't happen, then you will have just heard these things, kept them in your mind, and what will result? More conceptual constructs will assail you (saṅkhā samudācaranti), even through these very teachings. What does it mean to be one who is "devoted to the letter of the law" (padaparama)? It means grasping a few words and just spinning around and around them, taking a few terms and making them your dwelling place. That’s all. That is called being devoted to the letter. There is no crossing over, no realization of life.

Alright? “Evaṃ vutte, aññataro bhikkhu bhagavantaṃ etadavoca…” — When this was said, a certain monk said this to the Blessed One: “Kiṃvādī panāvuso bhagavā, kathaṃ akkhāyī, yathā sa-devake loke…aviggāhikā tiṭṭhati?” — "Venerable sir, what is the Blessed One’s doctrine, what does he proclaim, whereby one may dwell without conflict in the world with its gods?" And, “Kathañca panāvuso, bhagavantaṃ…saññānusayā na samudācarantī ti?” — "And venerable sir, how does it come to be for the Blessed One... that the underlying tendencies of perception no longer assail him?"

To this, the Blessed One replied: “Yato nidānaṃ, bhikkhu, purisaṃ papañca saññā saṅkhā samudācaranti, tattha ce natthi abhinanditabbaṃ, abhivaditabbaṃ, ajjhositabbaṃ, eso evanto rāgānusayānaṃ…” — “Bhikkhu, whatever the source, due to which perceptions and concepts born of conceptual proliferation assail a person, if there is nothing there to be delighted in, nothing to be welcomed, nothing to be clung to, this is the end of the underlying tendencies to lust...” From that point onwards, there is no room for lust (rāga). And because of that, there is no room for any of those defilements. There is no room for ignorance (moha). Likewise, there is no room for taking up weapons, for quarrels and disputes, for lying, slandering, or using harsh speech. There is no opportunity for any unwholesome state (akusala) to arise.

“Idamavoca bhagavā. Idaṃ vatvā sugato uṭṭhāyāsanā vihāraṃ pāvisi.” — The Blessed One said this. Having said this, the Well-Farer rose from his seat and entered his dwelling.

After that, a question arose for the monks regarding the brief teaching the Blessed One had given. “Atha kho tesaṃ bhikkhūnaṃ acirapakkantassa bhagavato etadahosi: idaṃ kho no, āvuso, bhagavā saṃkhittena uddesaṃ uddisitvā…” — “Then, not long after the Blessed One had departed, this thought occurred to those monks: ‘Friends, the Blessed One has given us this brief summary without explaining the meaning in detail and has entered his dwelling.’” They felt they hadn't been able to ask for a more detailed explanation. "What should we do now?" they wondered. They recounted the brief summary the Buddha had given them. “Atha kho tesaṃ bhikkhūnaṃ etadahosi: ko nu kho imassa bhagavatā…” — Then this thought occurred to those monks: "Who can explain to us in detail the meaning of this brief summary given by the Blessed One?" They thought, “Ayaṃ kho āyasmā mahākaccāno satthu ceva saṃvaṇṇito sambhāvito ca viññūnaṃ sabrahmacārīnaṃ. Pahoti cāyasmā mahākaccāno imassa…” — “This Venerable Mahā Kaccāna is praised by the Teacher and esteemed by his wise companions in the holy life. The Venerable Mahā Kaccāna is capable of explaining in detail the meaning of this brief summary…” They reasoned that since the Buddha himself had praised Venerable Mahā Kaccāna, they should go to him, confident that he would be able to explain the meaning of this concise teaching.

“Atha kho te bhikkhū yenāyasmā mahākaccāno tenupasaṅkamiṃsu…” — So, those monks went to the Venerable Mahā Kaccāna. They approached him and exchanged courteous greetings. After sitting down to one side, they explained what had happened, recounting the brief teaching the Buddha had given before entering his dwelling, and how they had not had a chance to ask for a fuller explanation. They repeated the Buddha’s words: “Yato nidānaṃ, bhikkhu, purisaṃ papañca saññā saṅkhā samudācaranti…” — “Bhikkhu, whatever the source, due to which perceptions and concepts born of conceptual proliferation assail a person…” explaining that they had not understood it. That part of the text is repeated here.

And then, just as I mentioned earlier, the Venerable Mahā Kaccāna does not say, "I can do this. I know this. I know it just like the Buddha does." He doesn't say anything of the sort. Why? Because that is the way of the Dispensation (Sāsana). That is the nature of one who has crossed over from the sense of 'I-ness' (mamathvaya). He has no need to promote himself.

Instead, he says, “Seyyathāpi, āvuso, puriso sārattiko sāragavesī sārapariyesanaṃ caramāno, mahato rukkhassa tiṭṭhato sāravato atikkammeva mūlaṃ atikkamma khandhaṃ…” — He tells them, "Friends, it is as if a man in need of heartwood, seeking heartwood, wandering in search of heartwood, were to come to a great tree standing possessed of heartwood. But having come to it, he would pass over the root, pass over the trunk, and think that heartwood should be sought among the leaves and branches."

He says, "Friends, what you are trying to do is like this. A man needs heartwood, the core of the tree. He comes to a great tree that has it, but instead of taking the valuable core, he ignores the root and the trunk and starts clinging to the leaves and branches. You have come looking for heartwood, you have found a tree that has it, but you are not making use of the heartwood. Instead, you are clinging to the leaves." He continues, "In the same way, friends, when the Teacher, the Blessed One, was right in front of you, you passed him by and think that I should be questioned about this matter."

Then he speaks these beautiful words: “So hāvuso, bhagavā jānaṃ jānāti, passaṃ passati, cakkhubhūto, ñāṇabhūto, dhammabhūto, brahmabhūto, vattā pavattā, atthassa ninnetā, amatassa dātā, dhammassāmī, tathāgato.” — "For the Blessed One, friends, is the one who knows what is to be known, sees what is to be seen. He is the Eye, he is the Knowledge, he is the Dhamma, he is the Holy One. He is the proclaimer, the expounder, the elucidator of meaning, the giver of the deathless, the Lord of the Dhamma, the Tathāgata."

Why does he say this? For one thing, you cannot come into this Dispensation (Sāsana) and cross the flood (ogha) without faith (saddhā) in the Buddha. It was the Buddha who discovered this message, who found this way of crossing over. If a monk has even a slight lack of respect in this regard, he cannot make much progress. He cannot develop mentally. Therefore, for one who has understood the Dhamma, faith in the Buddha is paramount. While it may begin as faith in a person, it evolves into faith in the Dhamma itself. This beautiful sentiment is found in many places in the scriptures. It speaks of the humility, the modesty, the sincere desire to cross over, and the genuine faith that existed at that time.

So, an Arahant says this: "The Blessed One is one who knows what should be known. He is born of the Dhamma-eye, born of the sphere of knowledge, born from the Dhamma, born from supreme holiness. He is the proclaimer, the one who sets the Wheel of Dhamma in motion, the giver of the deathless, the Lord of the Dhamma, the Tathāgata. That was the proper time to ask the Blessed One for the meaning of this profound matter. You should remember it exactly as the Blessed One would have explained it."

The Buddha is the one who truly discovered this message, this middle way, this liberation (vimutti). He accomplished this through great sacrifice, born with immense wisdom (paññā). And having discovered it, he explained it so that others might also have the good fortune to cross over. Now, that faith is essential. In anything we learn, if that faith is absent, the teaching cannot take root. Only a person who comes into the Dispensation with that faith can cross over. And it must be a sincere faith. It cannot be something born of cleverness or cunning. It must be utterly sincere. So, the monks reply with that same sincerity: “Addhā kho, āvuso kaccāna, bhagavā jānaṃ jānāti…” — “Surely, friend Kaccāna, the Blessed One is the one who knows what is to be known, sees what is to be seen. He is the Eye…” They affirm, “What you say is true. It is exactly as you have described. The Blessed One is undoubtedly one who knows what should be known and sees what should be seen.”

They are saying this out of faith (saddhā). Why faith? Because these monks have not yet realized the Dhamma for themselves. Venerable Mahā Kaccāna, on the other hand, speaks from his own realization as an Arahant. If the others had realized it, they wouldn't need to ask for clarification, would they? They would already know what the Buddha meant by crossing over, what he meant by liberation (vimutti). But while they haven't realized it yet, they have belief. By belief, I mean they have complete trust in the Buddha. When Venerable Kaccāna praises the Buddha, they agree wholeheartedly. Now, someone with realization could say "it is true" from their own experience. But others cannot. Because while it is true for the Buddha, they have not yet realized that truth for themselves. Nevertheless, that trust is there. Without that trust, one cannot proceed on this path. That is why it is said, "One crosses the flood by faith" (saddhāya tarati oghaṃ). It is clear that these monks possessed that quality.

They continue, "Yes, it is true he is the proclaimer, the giver of the deathless, the Lord of the Dhamma. That was the proper time to ask the Blessed One for the meaning of this profound Dhamma. And if we had asked, he certainly would have explained it to us. It is true, if he had explained it, we would have remembered it in exactly that way." They are acknowledging their missed opportunity. "But," they add, "the Blessed One has extolled the Venerable Kaccāna. Not only that, but wise companions in the holy life, like the Venerable Sāriputta and Moggallāna, also hold you in high esteem. The Venerable Mahā Kaccāna is capable of explaining in detail the meaning of this brief teaching given by the Blessed One. If it is not inconvenient for you, Venerable Sir, please explain the meaning of this profound Dhamma."

They are essentially saying, "If you had the chance, please explain it as you understand it. We know that if we had asked the Buddha, he definitely would have answered, and we would have remembered it exactly as he said. But we don't have that opportunity right now. So, if it is not too much trouble, please explain it to us."

Then, the Venerable Mahā Kaccāna agrees. “Tena hāvuso, suṇātha, sādhukaṃ manasi karotha, bhāsissāmī’ti.” — “In that case, friends, listen. Pay close attention. I will speak.” “Evaṃ, āvuso’ti kho te bhikkhū āyasmato mahākaccānassa paccassosuṃ.” — “Yes, friend,” those monks replied to the Venerable Mahā Kaccāna.

“Āyasmā mahākaccāno etadavoca…” — The Venerable Mahā Kaccāna then said this: "Friends, as to that brief summary the Blessed One gave without explaining the meaning in detail before entering his dwelling..." And he repeats the Buddha’s words, the very topic that was given. Now he begins to explain it. From this point on, the detailed explanation begins.

“Cakkhuñcāvuso, paṭicca rūpe ca uppajjati cakkhuviññāṇaṃ…” The true Dhamma discourse begins here. What came before was the narrative leading up to this. Now, he is about to explain what they did not understand. If you listen, you too can truly understand this. “Cakkhuñcāvuso, paṭicca rūpe ca uppajjati cakkhuviññāṇaṃ.” The meaning in Sinhala is: "Dependent on the eye and forms, eye-consciousness arises." That is to say, because of the eye and forms—when both the eye and forms are present—what arises? Eye-consciousness (cakkhu viññāṇa), the knowing through the eye.

Because the eye is what knows. If there is no eye and no form, we cannot know that we have an eye, can we? If no forms came to our eye, we couldn't even speak of having an eye. We say that a blind person has no eye, don't we? The sense base does not arise for them. If there were no ear and no sound, the ear would not arise as a functioning sense base. Therefore, dependent on the eye and forms, what arises? Eye-consciousness (cakkhu viññāṇa) arises.

“Tiṇṇaṃ saṅgati phasso.” — "The meeting of the three is contact (phassa)." What are the three things that meet? The eye, the form, and the eye-consciousness. The coming together of these three is contact (phassa). “Phassa paccayā vedanā.” — "With contact as condition, feeling (vedanā) arises." If contact has arisen, what must invariably follow? Feeling. Once the three have come together, which is called contact, there is no stopping it. With contact as the cause (phassa paccayā), feeling arises.

“Yaṃ vedeti, taṃ sañjānāti.” — “What one feels, that one perceives. What one feels (vedeti), that one perceives (sañjānāti).” Whatever one feels, that is what one perceives. For example, let's take a rose—in the Dhamma talks, it is often a lotus flower. When we experience it, what we perceive is the very thing that we are feeling.

“Yaṃ sañjānāti, taṃ vitakketi.” — "What one perceives, that one thinks about." Whatever one perceives, one then applies thought (vitakka) to it. That is thinking. Now, we have an object in our mind. And it is about that very object that we think (vitakketi), meaning we ponder and reflect on it. Thought (vitakka) means to think, to create mental images, to reflect. In the Abhidhamma, thought (vitakka) is described in detail. The old analogy given is that when an object comes to mind, thought (vitakka) is like a bird on the ground flapping its wings to take flight. Without that initial thought, the mind cannot proceed. This is the first of the pair, thought and examination (vitakka-vicāra). Examination (vicāra) is when the mind, having taken flight, continues to move along within that train of thought. But to get off the ground, it needs that initial flapping of the wings—that is thought (vitakka). It is the basis for reflection. "What one perceives (sañjānāti), that one thinks about (vitakketi)."

“Yaṃ vitakketi, taṃ papañceti.” — "What one thinks about, that one conceptually proliferates." Whatever one thinks about, whatever one reflects on, that becomes the basis for conceptual proliferation (papañca). To conceptually proliferate means to create a concept, to form a mental construct, or to conjure up mental images. That is what it means to create a concept. This is what gives rise to a mental construct.

“Yaṃ papañceti, tato nidānaṃ purisaṃ...” — "Due to what one conceptually proliferates, from that as a source, a 'person'..." At this point, a perception of a person has arisen. When we saw something with our eye, it now proceeds as "I see," "I hear," "I think." In the case of the eye, it becomes "I see." Has a 'person' (purisa) emerged here or not? Yes, a person has emerged. A sense of a personhood has been created. "Tato nidānaṃ papañcasaññāsaṅkhā samudācaranti..." — From that source (nidāna), taking the emergence of the 'person' as a basis, perceptions and concepts born of conceptual proliferation assail that person. This means that the object of perception is now thought of as "existing," and one feels that one has "received" it. That is why it is said that conceptual constructs assail (samudācaranti); it has now become an active process.

The sense base has become active. It is now thinking, reflecting. If the object was a form seen through the eye, a whole series of mind-moments (citta vīthi) begins, a process of thought. An entire course of behavior (samudācaranti) is set in motion. This is the routine that gets triggered inside whenever we see something with the eye. This is how it works internally. It is from this point that the 'person' emerges. The "I" emerges right here, created out of concepts.

And what happens next? “Atītānāgatapaccuppannesu...” — "In the past, future, and present..." Now, once something has been grasped, it cannot be seen as it is. It is judged as good or bad, true or false. To do this, what is needed? A relative comparison. And to make a relative comparison, what must happen? One has to go into the three time periods: past, future, and present. "This flower is more beautiful than the one I saw in the past. This flower is better than that one. This is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in the world." What does this require? It requires a relative standard. And it is this relativity that is referred to here: "past, future, and present" (atītānāgatapaccuppannesu). It connects to all three. Now, can the mind roam freely or not? It can think as much as it wants. It can go anywhere.

“Cakkhuviññeyyesu rūpesu…” — "With regard to forms cognizable by the eye..." When these three—past, future, and present—are brought in, what happens? How does one judge something as ugly? "The one I saw before was more beautiful than this." And there it begins: the problems, the crises, the quarrels, the disputes, the lust. "I got the best one." "They gave me one that wasn't good." "They didn't treat me right." "They didn't respect me properly." All those crises begin to form, fitting together piece by piece. Didn't something become a source (nidāna)? Yes, something became a source.

Now, which side of the process is this showing? It is the opposite of the Buddha's way; it is how the ordinary worldling behaves. "Cakkhuñcāvuso, paṭicca rūpe ca uppajjati cakkhuviññāṇaṃ." — "Dependent on the eye and forms, eye-consciousness arises." The knowing of the eye arises. We know we have an "eye" because those two things come together, and we experience "seeing." If we lost our sight—meaning, if the eye and forms no longer gave rise to seeing—the "eye" as a functioning sense base would not arise for us, would it? The "eye" arises for us when an eye and a form come together and we know it. Then the eye has become a sense base.

“Tiṇṇaṃ saṅgati phasso.” — "The meeting of the three is contact (phassa)." “Phassa paccayā vedanā.” — "With contact as condition, feeling arises." Right at this point, the process has become fully active. The moment there is contact, what is there? Feeling. As I pointed out the other day with the hand, when there is cold, you feel it. Once contact has occurred, feeling cannot be stopped. The 'person' has already emerged at this point, even before the process has moved into full-blown action. All of this that is being described happens in an instant. By the time we even begin to think about it, it has already happened.

For instance, the moment I show you this tissue box and you think something about it, this entire sequence has already taken place. For example, I might say, "This tissue box is black." And what do you say? What color is it? Yes, this is black. And what do I say? "Can't you see that this is white?" Now what does your mind say? Ah, and from there, all the problems are created, aren't they? Then you try to prove it's black, and I try to prove it's white. But as this is happening, the underlying process is already over and done with.

Now, look at the wonder of this. This is the mechanism that is happening here. And it's as if each and every step is being broken down and shown to us: "At this point, this is what happens to you. At that point, this is what happens." But it’s not something that can be shown so discretely. It's like when we analyze a sound wave and display it as a long waveform showing "at this point, this is the frequency." In the same way, the Buddha's wisdom (paññā) reveals that this is how the internal story is constructed, and this is how one crosses over from that story.

This is why I say you should try to learn Pali. It is then that you will truly understand who the Buddha is—after you see how he has described this process, step-by-step. Otherwise, an ordinary person, one who is always looking outward and chasing after sense objects, cannot even conceive of this. This is not about the object itself, but about the whole process that unfolds in relation to the object.

“Yaṃ vedeti, taṃ sañjānāti.” — “What one feels, that one perceives.” “Yaṃ sañjānāti, taṃ vitakketi.” — "What one perceives, that one thinks about." You should really memorize these lines in Pali, if you can. Because at the very least, one day you will realize for yourself, "Ah, this is the process that is going on inside." "What one perceives, that one thinks about." “Yaṃ vitakketi, taṃ papañceti.” — "What one thinks about, that one conceptually proliferates." That is how mental images are created.

“Yaṃ papañceti, tato nidānaṃ purisaṃ...” — "Due to what one conceptually proliferates, from that as a source, a 'person'…" Now, with oneself as the source, what can be done? The 'person' has now been formed. And as one continues to think and act based on this, what comes next? The search for good and bad. And by creating a sense of time—past, future, and present—what happens? Now one can roam endlessly. "The school I went to was better than this one." "Back in my day, it was like this, but now it's like that." Now there is endless room for what? Endless room for thought (vitakka).

And this entire behavior is a combination of these three time frames with the sense experience. “Cakkhuviññeyyesu rūpesu…” — "With regard to forms cognizable by the eye…" The process, which started with just the eye and a form, gave rise to the knowing of an "eye." A sense base was born. But where did it finally end up? The combination of all these things ended up not in a simple place, but in assuming something to be real that cannot actually be found. In reality, there is nothing there; it is just foolishness. Only ignorance (avijjā) is at the root of this.

From the day we were born, from the day we could understand things until today, this is all we have been doing. We take some sense object. It starts with the eye and form, but the sutta goes on to explain it for all six sense bases: the ear and sound, the nose and odor, the tongue and taste, the body and tangible object, and finally, the mind and mental objects. Look at that last one. The first five are external, but the mind is internal. The mind and mental objects (dhammā). When those two are present, mind-consciousness (mano viññāṇa) arises. “Tiṇṇaṃ saṅgati phasso.” The meeting of the three is contact. “Phassa paccayā vedanā.” With contact as a condition, feeling arises. “Yaṃ vedeti, taṃ sañjānāti.” What one feels, one perceives. What one perceives, one thinks about (vitakketi). What one thinks about, one conceptually proliferates (papañceti). And based on what one conceptually proliferates, taking that as a source (nidāna), one engages in a whole course of behavior (papañcasaṅkhā samudācaranti).

Taking the past, future, and the conditionally arisen present moment as a basis—even the concept of "the present" is a conditionally arisen phenomenon—what was the root of all this? In the first case, it was forms cognizable by the eye. In this case, it is mental objects cognizable by the mind.

Now, the opposite of this word "proliferation" (papañca) is "non-proliferation" (nippapañca). And non-proliferation (nippapañca) is another word for liberation (Nibbāna).

If the mind does not engage in this process, what is there instead? A crossing over. What is there? A crossing over, an understanding. That is the nature of wisdom (paññā). If the mind takes up the world in this proliferating way, it is caught. If the mind is unable to take up the world in this way, there is a crossing over. To be "unable" means that wisdom (paññā) has arisen and one sees clearly. Then, as the Buddha taught, if we do not welcome that source (nidāna), if that process does not happen, then we too, like the Buddha, what happens? We become cooled. A crossing over occurs. That is what is explained in the next part of the sutta. The discussion then moves on to whether this happens or not (sati asati). So, when conceptual proliferation (papañca) occurs, when concepts are formed, one assumes the world to be real. One falls into the two extremes of "it exists" and "it does not exist." Earlier, it was said that for the Buddha, "the underlying tendencies of perception no longer assail him" (saññānusayā na samudācarantī ti), meaning there is no room for perception to take hold. But now, in this process, room has been given. What has been given room? The thing that was perceived. And it is from that point onwards that opinions, views, quarrels, conflicts, and disputes all arise.

“Manañcāvuso, paṭicca dhamme ca uppajjati manoviññāṇaṃ.” — "Dependent on the mind and mental objects, mind-consciousness arises." Because of the mind and a mental object, the activity of the mind arises, and one knows, "there is a mind." If there were no mind and no mental objects, could we know that we have a mind? We think, and because we think, we know there is a mind and there is an object. If those two were absent, would we feel a mind? No, we would not. But the moment the mind and a mental object arise, we feel, "I have a mind." And as soon as we feel that, the three make contact, and with that object, what happens? We feel. And what we feel, what do we do? We perceive it. "Ah, I am thinking about that butterfly I saw." Or these days, it might be, "That police officer who shouted… that was not right." That's what one thinks about. "That was wrong. The way that lawyer spoke was wrong." One saw it, and a mental construct was formed. The event is over, everything is finished. But now, the mind and the mental object arise again, one knows "I have a mind," and begins to think and create concepts. Then one starts searching for right and wrong.

And there is no end to it. It's like a court case to find out what is right and wrong; it can go on for years and never end. Some cases go on for fifty years and are still not over. It is just like that. "Yaṃ sañjānāti, taṃ vitakketi… yaṃ papañceti, tato nidānaṃ purisaṃ papañcasaññāsaṅkhā samudācaranti atītānāgatapaccuppannesu manoviññeyyesu dhammesu." What was the source? At first, it was the eye and form. Now, it is the mind and a mental object. That's all. The moment those two become a source, out of foolishness, one takes them as "existing." The moment they are received as existing, the rest of the process unfolds.

So, every moment, from the time we wake up in the morning until the evening, where are we? We are in the world of conceptual proliferation (papañca). Not in a world that actually exists. Now, when we investigate this inner process, we gain at least some small understanding of this. But the ordinary person, who has not heard the Dhamma, who does not know the Dhamma, who is not skilled in the Dhamma, still does not know that they are wandering in a world of conceptual proliferation (papañca). What do they think? "I am walking on a real earth. I am talking about real things. I know real things." And so, the world is always searching for justice and injustice, for truth and falsehood, and in this way, they prolong their journey through saṃsāra.

So what is this saṃsāra? It is nothing other than this process that unfolds when an object comes to the mind. Saṃsāra is the word for this very process.

Alright, now he explains it further. This is a very powerful statement: “So vatāvuso, cakkhusmiṃ sati, rūpe sati, cakkhuviññāṇe sati, ‘phassapaññattiṃ paññapessatī’ti—ṭhānametaṃ vijjati.” — "Friends, when the eye is present, when forms are present, when eye-consciousness is present, it is possible that one will designate a designation of contact—this possibility exists."

He is explaining it further. "Friends, when the eye is present, when forms are present, when eye-consciousness—the knowing of the eye—is present..." meaning, when there is the experience "there is an eye," "there is a form," and "there is the knowing of the eye," then "phassapaññattiṃ paññapessatī’ti—ṭhānametaṃ vijjati." It is inevitable that a designation of contact will occur. That is to say, when there is an eye, a form, and eye-consciousness, the arising of contact cannot be stopped. What is it? It cannot be stopped. "Ṭhānametaṃ vijjati" — This possibility exists; it is certain to happen.

“Phassapaññattiyā sati, ‘vedanāpaññattiṃ paññapessatī’ti—ṭhānametaṃ vijjati.” — "When a designation of contact is present, it is possible that one will designate a designation of feeling—this possibility exists." Once contact has been designated, the designation of a feeling cannot be stopped. It’s like that video we saw the other day. Once the person accepts "this is my hand"—whether it is a rubber hand or not is irrelevant—what happens? The eye and the form are there. There is an eye, there is the form of the hand, and consciousness arises. Once that is accepted, contact cannot be stopped. And because contact is not stopped, the feeling arises—the person screams, cries, feels cold, feels heat. The feeling cannot be stopped. With contact as a condition, a designation of feeling is inevitable. No one can consciously decide not to do it. It just happens. It is a certainty.

“Vedanāpaññattiyā sati, ‘saññāpaññattiṃ paññapessatī’ti—ṭhānametaṃ vijjati.” — "When a designation of feeling is present, it is possible that one will designate a designation of perception—this possibility exists." When there is feeling, a designation of perception will inevitably be made. This means that in the end, once the eye and form are taken as present, the deal is done. Once those two and consciousness come together, what follows? The rest cannot be stopped. Therefore, it is foolish to try to stop feeling (vedanā). You cannot stop the feeling. You cannot stop the perception. Why? Because you have already taken hold of the source (nidhāna). You have already accepted "the eye is present." So for that person with the rubber hand, what happens? They scream. When the rubber hand is struck, they feel pain. When the rubber hand is "cut," they think their own hand is being cut. They suffer.

However, the moment they realize, "Ah, this isn't my real hand. This hand is not that hand," what happens to the feeling? It vanishes. There is no room for the feeling. Why? Because they are no longer grasping it. They no longer accept "the eye is present" (cakkhusmiṃ sati). Now they take it as "not present" (asati). That, too, is explained.

“Saññāpaññattiyā sati, ‘vitakkapaññattiṃ paññapessatī’ti—ṭhānametaṃ vijjati.” — "When a designation of perception is present, it is possible that one will designate a designation of thought—this possibility exists." If there is something to perceive, then there is something to think about, and one will inevitably think. An opportunity to think arises. "Ṭhānametaṃ vijjati." The thinking cannot be stopped. People try to stop their thoughts, don't they? But you cannot do it once you have grasped it at that earlier stage. Once you have perceived something, thinking inevitably follows.

“Vitakkapaññattiyā sati, ‘papañcasaññāsaṅkhāsamudācaraṇa paññattiṃ paññapessatī’ti—ṭhānametaṃ vijjati.” — "When a designation of thought is present, it is possible that one will designate a designation of being assailed by perceptions and concepts born of conceptual proliferation—this possibility exists." This means that once thinking has begun, the mind can latch onto and grasp the object. That is, one will inevitably get a "receipt" of it. One feels that one has received something—a flower, a ring, one's mother, whatever it may be. And the subsequent wandering in thought about it is an inevitable designation. It cannot be stopped.

What does this all mean? If you do not stop it at the beginning, if you do not stop it at the source (nidhāna), you cannot stop anything that follows. It just happens automatically. If there is electricity and the light bulb is working, you cannot stop it from lighting up when you flip the switch. You cannot stop the light from spreading. In the same way, this process happens instantly, automatically.

He has explained this sequence. All six sense bases are described in this way. For example, if we take the mind base: “Manasmiṃ sati, dhamme sati, manoviññāṇe sati…” — When the mind is present, when a mental object is present, when mind-consciousness is present, the resulting contact cannot be stopped. Contact is certain to occur. If contact occurs, the arising of feeling cannot be stopped. If feeling arises, one will inevitably perceive. If one perceives, what follows? One thinks. And if one thinks, one will inevitably wander in the proliferation of conceptual constructs (papañcasaññāsaṅkhā samudācaranti), and then start judging good and bad. That's a fact. One has received a "receipt." It is no longer just an object; it has become something to think about, a source (nidhāna).

What happens when someone finds a hidden treasure (nidhāna)? What do they do? They dig. They keep digging and digging, and what happens? They collect it. They don't just stop once they've found it. They carry it on their shoulders. That treasure is something valuable, and they have welcomed it with delight. After that, even if they die in seven days, it doesn't matter—they will keep digging. In the same way, the 'person' has now found a source (nidhāna). This is why, when people get angry about something, they can't stop. Their mind keeps dwelling on it. Why? They try to stop the stress, to stop the panic attacks. That's what they try to fix. "My head hurts," they say. But the object, the source (nidhāna)—have they taken it as real or not? Yes, it has become real for them. The object has become real. Some little thing has become real. They have welcomed it with delight right there at the source, while trying to stop the chaos that follows.

This is the state of everyone in the world suffering from mental illness. They have forgotten the root and are just trying to treat the symptoms. Modern science treats the symptoms. Trying to balance the chemicals won't work if the person continues to grasp things out of foolishness at the source. As long as they keep grasping, what happens? The stress might be controlled by the medication, but when the medication wears off, the illness is still there. Isn't it? However, if one establishes mindfulness (sati) right there and sees, "This is being taken as 'present'; it is from this source that I am behaving this way, but there is nothing really 'there'—what the Buddha pointed out is this process born of foolishness and ignorance," if one sees that, what happens? A crossing over occurs. What kind of thing happens? There is no one who crosses over, but a crossing over occurs.

So, this is how it is explained. What is being shown now? It relates to what the Buddha said about the source for a 'person' (purisa nidhāna). He explained that for him, the underlying tendencies to lust (rāgānusaya) do not arise. And the reason they do not arise is, "I do not welcome that source with delight. I do not get established in it. I do not cling to it." "Therefore," he is saying, "there is no room for lust (rāga) in me. There is no room in my mind for any kind of conflict." This explanation is showing that very thing, isn't it?

So what is being demonstrated now? It is showing how there is room for these things to arise. The Buddha explained how there is no room. But in the ordinary world, there is always room, isn't there? We are always making room for quarrels, disputes, lies, slander, harsh speech—for everything. This is showing how that room is created. This is the foolish process that takes place.

If a Buddha had not appeared in this world, people would just keep thinking and speculating about things, searching for the "truth," for the ultimate reality, searching for answers about the universe. But a person would not know what they are actually doing; they would not know this internal mechanism. They wouldn't even be looking for it. That is why, even after 2,600 years, another person like him has not appeared—one who could discover such a mechanism. It is our good fortune, our great blessing, to have encountered this teaching.

So what happens now? We have found this Dhamma. We are deeply sunk in ignorance (avijjā), in foolishness. To cross over from this, what must we do? We must make time to contemplate what we have found, instead of spending all our time at alms-givings, weddings, funerals, and chanting ceremonies. We must create the time to practice wise attention (yoniso manasikāra). We have to stay with it, immerse ourselves in it. Only then will we attain it. Otherwise, if we miss this opportunity, we will just continue on with our identity view (sakkāya diṭṭhi). We can meet the same people again at the next alms-giving. We can go to more alms-givings, more funerals. We can even do so in the animal realm, or even in the hell realms. So when a human being is fortunate enough to encounter this, what must they do? They must make use of it. That is why the monks of that time were completely dedicated to this practice. If one doesn't have a sincere desire to cross over, the Dhamma won't take hold. Such a person just wants to enjoy the pleasure within ignorance (avijjā), to be assailed by conceptual constructs (papañcasaṅkhā samudācaranti). They want to be immersed in conceptual proliferation and experience the feelings that come from it.

And there is a feeling, isn't there? When you take something as "present," a feeling arises—pleasant, painful, or neutral. And then you perceive what you feel, and you think about it. It's like a cow that eats and eats all day, and at night, brings it all back up to chew on it again. In the same way, we see forms with the eye, hear sounds with the ear, do as much of that as we can, and then, when we are alone, what do we do? We sit and think about it all. The mind is present, a mental object comes, and mind-consciousness arises. And then you can't stop it. "Ṭhānametaṃ vijjati." It cannot be otherwise. The rest happens automatically. We don't even realize we are "living." We are just walking around thinking about something, not even aware of what the mind is doing.

So, he continues, explaining the "not present" side. "So vatāvuso, cakkhusmiṃ asati, rūpe asati, cakkhuviññāṇe asati… ‘phassapaññattiṃ paññapessatī’ti—netaṃ ṭhānaṃ vijjati.” — The "present" (sati) part is over. Now comes the "not present" (asati) part. "Friends, when the eye is not present, when forms are not present, when eye-consciousness is not present, it is not possible that one will designate a designation of contact—this possibility does not exist."

This means one does not take the eye as "present." Now it is "the eye is not present," "form is not present." It's the other side. Therefore, the knowing of the eye does not arise. And then what happens? If there is no knowing of the eye, then something called "contact" does not occur. If something called "contact" does not occur, then something called "feeling" does not arise. If something called "feeling" does not arise, then there is nothing to perceive. If there is nothing to perceive, there is nothing to think about. If there is nothing to think about, what happens? There is nothing to be assailed by perceptions born of conceptual proliferation (papañcasaññāsaṅkhā samudācaranti). There is nothing to compare across past, future, and present. Is there any room for defilements—for lust, aversion, delusion, or views? There is no room for any of it. None whatsoever. Room is only given if you offer it. And that room is offered only after the source for a 'person' (purisa nidhāna) has emerged and been welcomed.

If you do not welcome the source with delight, then there is no room for anything. Notice, it doesn't say here "get rid of lust," "get rid of aversion," "get rid of delusion," or "get rid of views." What has been shown here? It shows how they arise, and how, if room is not given, they do not arise. Something can only get inside if you give it room to enter, can't it? If there is no way for it to get in, then you can't even speak of it "being inside."

This is why ordinary people in the world—and even many monks and laypeople who have been practicing for a long time—still think that the path is about "getting rid of lust." They think that is what the Buddha taught. But that's just a surface-level interpretation. That's not what is being said here. This is a system for developing wisdom (paññā) to the point where there isn't even any room for lust (rāga) to arise in the first place. What is being developed? When wisdom (paññā) arises, those things are simply not there. That is what is meant by "when the eye is not present (cakkhusmiṃ asati), when form is not present (rūpe asati), when eye-consciousness is not present (cakkhuviññāṇe asati)..."

And it is the same for the mind. If one doesn't take it as "there is a mind," if one doesn't take it as "a mental object is present," then mind-consciousness does not arise. If mind-consciousness is not present, there is no contact. If there is no mind, there is nothing to talk about. From that point on, there is absolutely no room for the defilements. And that state cannot be described. If you try to describe it, it just becomes more conceptual proliferation (papañca), more thinking (vitakka). What is there instead? A crossing over is what's next. A cessation (nirodha).

So, what you can do is stay within this framework. As you proceed within this framework, it is wisdom (paññā) that can then make the crossing over. When you board a ship, you can reach the other shore. But if you don't board it, if you don't even go to the harbor, if you don't prepare and find what is needed, then the boarding of the ship will never happen. So, until then, it won't happen.

Therefore, as long as you engage in unwise attention (ayoniso manasikāra), as long as you keep thinking about the things you see with your eye, as long as you proceed by taking them as real—thinking "my mother is real" and dwelling on thoughts about her; thinking "my friend is real" and dwelling on thoughts about them; thinking "the things I see on TV are real" and dwelling on thoughts about them—you will never find an opportunity to cross over.

But if you contemplate these teachings with wisdom, in the way they have been explained, if you engage with them, then there is an opportunity for wisdom (paññā) to arise. Right now, there is room only for unwise attention (ayoniso manasikāra). But if wisdom (paññā) arises, what happens? The mind becomes "not present" (manasi asati). One does not take it as "a mind is present." In that very moment, when the grasping of an object as "present" ceases, it is over. One attains the liberation of mind (ceto vimutti).

What does one attain? It is called non-proliferation (nippapañca), which is another name for liberation (Nibbāna). The world is conceptual proliferation (papañca). The world of papañca is a pile of thoughts. What kind of pile? One walks through this world by thinking. One doesn't walk with one's two legs; one walks with one's thoughts. The way people walk through the world is by thinking.

Now, we cannot simply stop our thoughts (vitakka). They arise. So the Buddha taught to change the nature of your thoughts: cultivate thoughts of renunciation, non-ill will, and non-harming. This helps with the crossing over. If you find it difficult at first to take things as "not present" (asati), then begin by changing your concepts. This is easier for the mind. When the mind is at ease, it is easier for wisdom (paññā) to arise. Otherwise, could someone like Angulimala have crossed over? There would have been no problem at all. This mechanism has been explained. Once one grasps it and wisdom (paññā) arises, one crosses over. It was not "Angulimala" who crossed over. The lack of understanding within Angulimala was removed. What was removed? It is only when we speak in the conventional way of the world that we bring up a person, a perception of a person, and say "he, that person..." When we think with him as the source, we say "Angulimala crossed over." That is the way of the world. All of these are things designated by the mind. What are they? They are designations, concepts (paññatti). They are not things that are inherently there.

So we are living in a world of great foolishness and ignorance (avijjā). Some people say, "I don't need to think about this stuff. I don't need to look at it." Many people say this, don't they? "This is useless. The way things are going is fine." This shows just how deep the foolishness runs. It's like a worm in a cesspool. If someone from above comes with fresh water to wash it clean, the worm says, "Oh, that's useless. Is there any pleasure as great as this filth?" If you could talk to such a worm, that is what it would say. The filth is that appealing to it. In the same way, people who are sunk in foolishness cannot understand anything beyond the world of concepts, beyond the world of conceptual proliferation (papañca). But they don't see it as a conceptual proliferation (papañca). They see it as something they have received, something they have obtained. They get caught in that illusion. To be caught in that is the nature of ignorance (aññāṇa); that is how much ignorance (avijjā) and foolishness we have.

[The Venerable Maha Kaccāna concludes his explanation to the monks, saying:] "So, friends, this is how I understand the detailed meaning of that brief teaching given by the Blessed One. If you wish, go to the Blessed One and ask him about this matter. And as the Blessed One explains it to you, so you should remember it."

Now look how much the cessation of identity view (sakkāya diṭṭhi nirodha) is emphasized in this discourse, in this Sāsana system. This is why when I see a group that has formed around these sermons, learning only from them, I wonder how I will teach them in the future. I realize it's not working, because this is not the Sāsana system. This is not leading to the cessation of identity view (sakkāya diṭṭhi). This is leading to what? To more conceptual proliferation (papañca). Anyone who has studied a discourse like this knows very well what the Sāsana system is. The Dispensation is structured in a particular way. It is not for showing off one's importance, for boasting, or for wearing crowns. Its sole purpose is to create a path for crossing over. That is all it is for. It is not for putting up banners saying "I have become an Arahant." It is not for promoting oneself as a stream-enterer (sotāpanna). This is the nature of the Buddha's Dispensation (Buddha Sāsana).

Ordinary people may latch onto the title 'Arahant,' but that is just a conventional concept, a papañca of the world. Those are just things used to convey the Dhamma to the world. When you study these things in depth, you see that it is entirely about this mind that is on fire, burning because of one's own foolishness. The only thing left to do is to remove this foolishness, this ignorance (avijjā). This becomes very clear when you study the discussions these monks had.

“Atha kho te bhikkhū āyasmato mahākaccānassa bhāsitaṃ abhinanditvā anumoditvā uṭṭhāyāsanā yena bhagavā tenupasaṅkamiṃsu.” — Then those monks, delighting in and approving of the Venerable Mahā Kaccāna's words, rose from their seats and went to the Blessed One. “Upasaṅkamitvā bhagavantaṃ abhivādetvā ekamantaṃ nisīdiṃsu. Ekamantaṃ nisinnā kho te bhikkhū bhagavantaṃ etadavocuṃ…” — Having approached the Blessed One, they paid homage to him and sat down to one side. Sitting there, they told the Blessed One what had happened. They recounted the entire story: how they didn't understand his brief teaching, how they were perplexed after he went into his dwelling, how they went to the Venerable Mahā Kaccāna, and how he explained it all to them.

"Venerable Sir," they said, "the Venerable Mahā Kaccāna explained the meaning to us with these phrases, with these words, with these sentences. This is how he explained it to us."

Hearing this, the Buddha said, “Paṇḍito, bhikkhave, mahākaccāno. Mahāpañño, bhikkhave, mahākaccāno.” — "Monks, Mahā Kaccāna is wise. Monks, Mahā Kaccāna is of great wisdom." “Mañcepi tumhe, bhikkhave, maṃ etamatthaṃ paṭipuccheyyātha, ahampi taṃ evamevaṃ viyākareyyaṃ, yathā taṃ mahākaccānena vyākataṃ. Eso cevetassa attho, evaṃ cetaṃ dhārethā”ti.” — "If you had asked me this question, monks, I would have explained it in exactly the same way that Mahā Kaccāna has explained it. Such is its meaning, and so you should remember it."

The Venerable Ānanda, who was also present, then said this to the Blessed One: “Seyyathāpi, bhante, puriso jighacchāya dubbalyena pareto…” — “Venerable Sir, it seems to me that this discourse is like this: It is as if a man, overcome by hunger and weakness, were to come upon a ball of honey." It's as if someone who has had nothing to eat or drink is suddenly given some food. And not just any food, but the most sublime of foods... what is it? A ball of honey. That's right, a honeycomb. So, from whichever side of that honeycomb he eats, he tastes only the sweet flavor of honey. In the same way, Venerable Sir, for a monk with an insightful mind, one who practices wise attention (yoniso manasikāra), from whichever angle he wisely investigates the meaning of this profound Dhamma, he will find only delight and satisfaction. He will experience the joy of the Dhamma.

"Venerable Sir, what is the name of this Dhamma discourse? By what name should I remember it?"

"Therefore, Ānanda," the Buddha replied, "you should remember this Dhamma discourse as the 'Discourse on the Honeyball' (Madhupiṇḍika Pariyāya)." So, it seems it was Venerable Ānanda himself who suggested the name.

The discourse concludes with the monks accepting this explanation. Now, these were monks who were not yet liberated. If they were, they would have understood what the Buddha said right away. This was a discussion that took place among a group who had not yet realized the goal.

So, I think you should memorize all of this, not just bits and pieces. That core section is especially important. You should know the Pali and its meaning. The rest of the narrative parts of the sutta are not as critical, as they don't contain the core Dhamma teaching itself. But the parts that explain the Dhamma—the "present" (sati) and "not present" (asati) sections, and the Buddha's initial words—you must know them precisely. Because if you don't know them, your contemplation will be incorrect, and wisdom (paññā) will not arise.

So, what should you do now? You should chant this sutta, like you chant protection chants (paritta), three or four times a day for about a month. Then, you can look at the Sinhala translation I have prepared. As you go through it, the whole sutta will become memorized. Then, when you look at the Pali terms and their meanings, you will understand what is being said—that two sides have been shown. In time, this can be used for the purpose of crossing over.

Without this, if you just listen today and it ends here, or if you listen to it on YouTube once in a while, it will be of no use. It is only by contemplating it again and again that when your own sense of 'I-ness' arises in your daily practice, you will know the process. It will come to mind: "Isn't this what's happening? Isn't this the foolish thing I'm doing?" It is then that an opportunity to cross over arises. Otherwise, it is of no use to just listen to this now and then spend the rest of your day in unwise attention (ayoniso manasikāra). How can you ever cross over that way? You will have only heard it due to some past merit, some good karma, but you will not have made use of it.

Look at these monks. They didn't understand the Dhamma. They went to Venerable Mahā Kaccāna, and from there they went back to the Buddha. This shows how much desire they had. You can see that desire within the sutta. What was their desire? To understand this Dhamma, to get rid of this foolishness, to get out of this cesspool. This is a very beautiful sutta. We can discuss it again another day, as many times as you like. Because what is it showing? It is not showing something external. What is it showing? The workings of the inside.

It's like I showed you the television the other day. Everyone can watch the TV. But not everyone knows how the TV works on the inside. That is why, if it breaks, not everyone can fix it. Not everyone understands its internal mechanism. But everyone can watch it. In the same way, the whole world can see forms, feel them, perceive them, and create conceptual proliferations (papañca) about them. The whole world can create problems from this. But can they stop it?

People try to stop the problems, stop the conflicts. But can they? This sutta is saying you can never stop them that way. Why? Because the moment you grasp the source (nidhāna), the rest is guaranteed. All the efforts in the world to end problems, to bring peace—these are foolish endeavors. They are temporary fixes. If these things are ever to stop, it will only be after the desire for the source (nidhāna) has been abandoned. It is only after one stops grasping it, after one understands it right there at the source, that the cessation occurs. A person then becomes cooled. But any cooling that happens without this understanding is only temporary. It is not a cooling that has occurred through knowledge, understanding, or wisdom (paññā). What is it then? For example, when a problem simply goes away on its own, you don't proliferate (papañca) or think about it afterwards. So, it has vanished. After the person realized it was a rubber hand, there was no feeling of pain when it was "cut." The suffering vanished. But that did not happen through wisdom (paññā); it was just a situational resolution.

It is the same when problems in our lives are resolved. We stop proliferating (papañca) about them. We don't grasp them anymore. But if we do grasp them again, the whole package returns. What comes? That whole process starts again.

However, when you cross over with wisdom (paññā), it is not like that. It doesn't come back again. It doesn't happen. Because that understanding is complete. That is why the Buddha said the Dhamma is not just for remembering, not just for memorizing. What is it for? For an experience. It is a crossing over. A crossing over is not a getting. It is a crossing over; there is no other word for it.

If this thing called liberation (Nibbāna) is something that someone gets in their mind, it is not liberation. It is a conceptual proliferation (papañca), a concept. They might think they have become cooled, but that is all it is. No one attains liberation (Nibbāna) through a concept. What is it? It is non-proliferation (nippapañca). That is why, in the Anuruddha Sutta, there are the eight thoughts of a great person. And the final one the Buddha mentions is the need for non-proliferation (nippapañca). He asks Anuruddha to remember this as the eighth thought of a great person.

This is a very beautiful discourse. So, you should all discuss this again.

May the blessings of the Triple Gem be with you all. May you be well and happy.

Original Source (Video):

Title: මනස පිටුපස Science එක | පූජ්‍ය තිත්තගල්ලේ ආනන්දසිරි හිමි | madhupindika sutta part 2

https://youtu.be/dMsZ_2Ek2lg?si=AveXqkyJ7cQDzHq5

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.

This blog does not seek to promote or endorse any specific personal views that may be expressed by the original speaker. The content is shared solely for the purpose of encouraging reflection and deeper understanding of the Dhamma.