The First to Disappear in the Buddha's Dispensation (Sāsana) is the Higher Teaching (Abhidhamma)| Sithuwili Sakmana| Thiththagalle Anandasiri Thero

මුල් සිංහල වීඩියෝව සඳහා Play කරන්න

The First to Disappear in the Buddha's Dispensation (Sāsana) is the Higher Teaching (Abhidhamma) | Sithuwili Sakmana| 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.

Gemunu: Ayubowan (Greetings). We have decided to launch a new podcast titled "Sithuwili Sakmana" together with Venerable Thiththagalle Anandasiri Thero. Recently, during our programs, we have been having various discussions specifically regarding the Higher Teaching (Abhidhamma). We wanted to explore how we can raise awareness and gain a clear understanding of this profound subject within the context of our present society. Right now, there is a mindset deeply ingrained in us that the moment the Higher Teaching (Abhidhamma) is mentioned, it is perceived as a subject belonging to a realm that is far too difficult to comprehend. Nevertheless, given the complexities of modern society, it is essential that we unravel and clearly understand these teachings. It is with the firm belief that we must first eliminate this tendency to shy away from the Higher Teaching (Abhidhamma) that we conceived the idea to start this new podcast series, "Sithuwili Sakmana." Venerable Sir, may the blessings of the Triple Gem be with you. Ayubowan.

Thiththagalle Thero: May the blessings of the Triple Gem be with you. May you be well and peaceful.

Gemunu: We are launching this podcast series with a primary focus on the Higher Teaching (Abhidhamma). First of all, how do we overcome the fear and hesitation people have regarding the Higher Teaching (Abhidhamma)? That is the very first question I would like to ask you, Venerable Sir.

Thiththagalle Thero: Well, I conducted a program on the Higher Teaching (Abhidhamma) at the Keysborough temple in Melbourne. We initially started with about 100 attendees, but by the time it concluded, there were around 2,000 people. It became the most highly attended program ever held at the Keysborough temple, running continuously for a month. At the end of it, the Chief Prelate (Nayaka Thero) of the temple, who had ordained at a very young age, came forward and shared a thought. He mentioned that in their time, the Higher Teaching (Abhidhamma) was jokingly considered a subject that neither the teacher nor the student understood. [Laughter] The teacher who teaches it doesn't understand it, and the student who listens doesn't understand it either. That was the perception back then. However, he noted that even though we started with just about 100 people, by the end, the hall was overflowing with attendees. For all 30 days, the Higher Teaching (Abhidhamma) was taught. [Clears throat] Therefore, one of the most significant aspects of my journey in this world is addressing the fact that in the Buddha's Dispensation (Sāsana), the very first teaching to disappear is the Higher Teaching (Abhidhamma). Just as anything that arises must eventually pass away, the entire Dispensation (Sāsana) is subject to this nature. The Buddha pointed out that the first subject to vanish will be this profound and special teaching—'Abhi' meaning special or higher—the Higher Teaching (Abhidhamma). Following that, the Discourses (Sutta) will disappear, and then the Monastic Discipline (Vinaya). In this manner, the disappearance of the Dispensation (Sāsana) will occur. Consequently, attaining the realization of the Dhamma will become impossible.

Furthermore, the Buddha has spoken in another instance about a drum named Mingu (referring to the Ānaka drum). There was once a beautiful drum called Mingu, and the sound it produced was exceptionally beautiful. However, as time passed and it was handed down from generation to generation, the drumhead was not maintained properly. Whenever a small tear or hole appeared in the drumhead, they would insert a nail into it. Eventually, the original sound of the drum was completely lost, and only the sound of the nails remained. Similarly, up until very recently, what people heard and considered to be Buddhism was merely a collection of Birth Stories (Jātaka kathā). People thought Buddhism was about tales involving the moon and moon deities. They were mostly listening to stories that began with 'Once upon a time, during the reign of King Brahmadatta,' which were essentially narratives modified during the Kurunegala period. Even today, we sometimes hear such things. Later on, a few venerable monks took a step further and began to discuss the Discourses (Sutta).

Regarding the subject of the Higher Teaching (Abhidhamma), even though Venerable Renukane Chandawimala Thero had written extensively about it in his books, it remained difficult for many. An elderly mother once told me that she had been trying to understand the Higher Teaching (Abhidhamma) since the 1980s. She had read Venerable Renukane Thero's books, but it was only in 2015, after listening to my teachings, that she finally understood it. That means she had spent more time and effort trying to understand the Higher Teaching (Abhidhamma) than she had spent raising her own child. Currently, in Dhamma schools and around the world, it is taught in a very basic way: 'This is what is called the mind (citta), and this is what is called form (rūpa).' Take an example: when we talk about electron levels in chemistry or physics, not everyone understands it. For O-Level students, they teach a little bit about the periodic table. In A-Level chemistry, it is taught in slightly more detail. But beyond that, it is truly only the chemists who deeply understand it. They are the ones who can explain what soil really is on this earth, what a gem actually is, what their chemical compositions are, and what the compositions of trees and leaves are.

Similarly, the Higher Teaching (Abhidhamma) goes into that profound level of detail. It is the teaching that gives a person the ability to understand that although we see a physical body with our eyes, what we see is not the ultimate reality. It explains that when we hear a sound, this is what is actually happening within that experience of hearing, and this is what the mind truly is. However, I have the ability to teach this to absolutely anyone. You will be able to see that throughout this program, and those who have already learned from me know this well.

The second point is something Venerable Renukane Thero has mentioned regarding ordinary Dhamma sermons. Listening to a standard sermon nowadays is much like a mason building a house without using a plumb line. If a mason builds a wall without a plumb line, the unevenness and the high and low spots won't be immediately visible. But a skilled mason who uses a plumb line—someone who is well-trained in their craft—can lay the bricks perfectly in a row, level them accurately, and build the structure flawlessly. Therefore, listening to a sermon from a monk who thoroughly understands the Higher Teaching (Abhidhamma) is exactly like getting a house built by a skilled mason who uses a plumb line. Yes, it is only if a person learns and truly understands the Higher Teaching (Abhidhamma) that they can accurately grasp what the Buddha meant. Only then can they precisely identify and comprehend the cognitive objects, understanding, 'This is eye-consciousness (cakkhu-viññāṇa)' and 'This is ear-consciousness (sota-viññāṇa).' And what happens when they can accurately comprehend these objects? It directly aids them in the realization of the ultimate truth and the attainment of liberation (Nibbāna). Otherwise, the Higher Teaching (Abhidhamma) is merely seen as a special theoretical subject. However, its purpose is not to be clung to as mere knowledge, but to guide a person towards the realization of the ultimate truth.

Gemunu: Very well, Venerable Sir, as we engage in this "Sithuwili Sakmana" (Promenade of Thoughts). It is human thoughts that enable us to inquire, observe, and discuss things, whether as questions or as ideas. But who exactly are "we," Venerable Sir? Who are we, in reality?

Thiththagalle Thero: In truth, the term "we" is merely a convention of language. We use "I" to refer to a single person, and "we" to refer to more than one. Therefore, if we break down the word "we," it ultimately comes back to the concept of "I." So, if we simplify your question, it becomes much easier to explore: "Who am I?" If you ask me directly, "Who am I?"—speaking from a conventional sense and not from the ultimate perspective of the Dhamma—who can I say that I am? I am a name given by my parents. I am associated with the name of the village where I was born. I am associated with the name of the school I attended. When we look at it from that perspective, who are "we"? We are simply a collection of memory records, external inputs fed into the brain and accumulated over time. It is, in essence, a promenade of thoughts.

Gemunu: Yes, that is well said. I would like to delve into that a bit further. Out in society, whenever there are discussions about the Higher Teaching (Abhidhamma) or when Buddhist philosophy is analyzed logically and critically, people often have the opportunity to respond, provide counterarguments, or share their opinions through comments, such as on Facebook.

Thiththagalle Thero: As we have planned to do about 50 episodes of this program together, people can leave their questions in the comments, and you can ask them and we can certainly address them.

Gemunu: Absolutely. Venerable sir, the reason I bring this up is that we have seen countless debates and arguments in these spaces. One recurring question that emerges amidst these debates is: how do we understand the difference between the mind (citta) and the brain?

Thiththagalle Thero: Truthfully, that is a question that even modern, highly advanced science hasn't been able to resolve even by one percent. An American scientist once told me that they largely assume the brain itself is the mind (citta). Yes, they believe that the physical brain we possess—the cerebrum, the cerebellum, the spinal cord, and the supporting network of neurons—is the mind. However, they are now beginning to have a slight doubt. They are wondering if there is a mind (citta) that exists independently of this physical structure. Right? So, they are currently conducting experiments on this. I can give you the answer to that right now. The brain and the mind (citta) are two entirely different things. The true active agent is the mind (citta). The physical brain is, in fact, a creation of that very mind (citta).

Gemunu: So, the mind (citta) and the brain are two separate entities.

Thiththagalle Thero: Right? Yes, the brain is a creation of the mind (citta) itself. Let me give you an example. Today, we talk a lot about AI (Artificial Intelligence) and robots. Recently, there was a case in Japan where a woman married an AI. Why? Because her issue was that if she married a human man, he might not communicate enough with her, whereas she wanted a companion she could converse with constantly, which the AI provided. Now, whose creation is this AI? It is a creation of the human being.

Gemunu: A creation.

Thiththagalle Thero: And who is the human being? Through continuous human thought, if we trace the origins of AI, it goes back to the 1950s. Someone decided to build a massive model based on the functions of the brain, and by the 2000s, this network had developed immensely. Today, we speak highly of AI. We say, 'This AI is like this, that AI is like that, this robot does this.' But who created all of this? Thoughts. What we see as AI is simply the result of thoughts that arose in the minds of a group of people.

The same principle applies to our brain and this physical body. Let's consider a mother's womb. For a conception to occur, the mother and father must unite, and the mother must be in her fertile period. If they unite at that time, they are physically capable of conceiving a child. However, not every such union results in a conception. For a conception to take place, a consciousness (viññāṇa) must arise and descend into that setting. A consciousness descending into the embryo and developing is what we call a conception in the womb. We say a child has been conceived. If that consciousness fades away, ceases, or passes away, what happens? The embryo dies within the womb itself.

At the very beginning of this union, the brain is not visible. If we break it down week by week, on the very first day of the first week, you cannot find an eye, an ear, or a brain. What happens is that the consciousness (viññāṇa) merges with those material properties. The fundamental material elements are earth (paṭhavī), water (āpo), fire (tejo), and air (vāyo), along with color (vaṇṇa), smell (gandha), taste (rasa), and nutritive essence (ojā). This basic nature is what we call elements (dhātu). When the male sperm and the mother's ovum unite, if you break them down, they consist of these exact eight properties. Their union creates a suitable environment for a consciousness to descend.

The consciousness that descends there provides the vital energy. Think of a light bulb; we might think the bulb just lights up on its own, but there is an electrical current flowing from behind it. Similarly, it is from that consciousness—a stream of consciousness, which is actually a complex network that I can explain clearly to people later—that the primary energy is supplied for the embryo to grow. Later, the food the mother consumes and the environment she is in provide physical protection and nourishment for the child. But beyond that, invisibly, it is the activity of consciousness that supplies the core energy. If that supply of energy ceases at any point, the embryo dies. At that early stage, there is no brain. It is only as time passes, after several weeks, when doctors can observe the development, that the child's brain begins to form. The eyes begin to appear, and the physical characteristics determining whether it is male or female (bhāva-rūpa) begin to manifest.

So, I told that scientist, if the brain and the mind (citta) are exactly the same, then the brain should form first, and the rest of the body should develop from it. But that is not what happens. Just as humans create robots, the mind (citta) creates this physical body. It develops a physical zone that it can utilize. There are many profound forces that govern this process. This is exactly what the Book of Conditional Relations (Paṭṭhāna) explains. It details conditions such as the proximity condition (anantara-paccaya) and the contiguity condition (samanantara-paccaya)—do not be intimidated by these terms; they can be easily explained. It also discusses the object condition (ārammaṇa-paccaya), explaining in detail how this entire process operates.

So, you asked how we can untangle this issue of the brain versus the mind (citta). This can truly be unraveled through the Higher Teaching (Abhidhamma). It explains how the mind operates in relation to physical form (rūpa). The brain is purely physical. If you break it down to its most subtle state, it consists merely of earth, water, fire, air, color, smell, taste, and nutritive essence (paṭhavī, āpo, tejo, vāyo, vaṇṇa, gandha, rasa, ojā). Scientists might break it down further into electrons, protons, neutrons, and quarks. Therefore, the brain and the mind are two different things. The active agent here, as the Buddha taught, is the mind (manasa). The mind is consciousness (viññāṇa). Consciousness is the nature of knowing. That nature of knowing is the energy, the driving force that animates our entire life. It is always invisible. We can take a photograph of this physical body, but we cannot photograph the mind. The energy that makes this physical body function and move is what we call the mind (citta). According to Buddhism, the brain is merely one physical component of this body.

Gemunu: That is a very engaging topic to listen to and something that can be understood. These thought processes—our program is also about thoughts—

Thiththagalle Thero: I explained this in a very basic way so that anyone can grasp it. It is like when we go to Germany; before we can truly enjoy a German song or understand their culture, we must first learn the German language. In these fifty episodes, if we start today by just using terms like 'earth element' (paṭhavī), it might become boring. But we can gradually teach that foundational language. Then, anyone listening will be able to engage their mind and understand those profound principles.

Gemunu: It is definitely possible. I believe that discussing the thought process is quite fascinating. How can we analyze the battle that takes place within our brain? It is not something we can easily identify, is it?

Thiththagalle Thero: Yes, regarding the brain, it works like this. When we see something with our eyes, what happens is that a reflection of color and light falls upon this physical eye. Within it, there is a specific nature called the eye-decad (cakkhu-dasaka-kalāpa). If we explain this in scientific terms, it is what we were taught in school science—if this component is missing, the person is blind. Even if I have a physical eye, if that eye-decad is absent, I am blind. This is a very subtle process. It is a form of energy generated by the support of past actions (kamma-paccaya). It is within this that the mind (citta) arises.

When that mind arises, what does modern science show? It shows that this signal connects directly to the brain's neural network, and an image is formed in the head. We then identify it: 'This is a lion, this is a dog, this is Iran, this is Israel, this is Iraq,' and so on. Now, if the brain sustains an injury—in medical science, brain death is considered the end of life, isn't it?

Gemunu: Yes.

Thiththagalle Thero: If the brain is struck and damaged, this process cannot occur. The mind (citta) created this physical structure precisely to form these shapes and concepts. We build robots to make our work easier, don't we? We create AI to make our tasks easier. In the same way, the mind created the brain to perform these specific functions.

Science has explained the functions of the brain. When we see something, an inverted image is formed, which is then corrected. When we hear something, this specific process happens. However, beneath all of this, if the consciousness (viññāṇa) ceases while looking at something, the brain doesn't instantly disappear; the physical brain is still there. But the existence beyond that point stops. It is like constantly providing breath or oxygen to the physical body on one side, and supplying food on the other. Similarly, on the other side, it is the mind (citta) that performs the monumental task of keeping this body alive, maintaining its vitality and warmth (āyu and usmā). Within that vitality and warmth, the brain can perform the duties assigned to it. It is like buying a computer to edit videos, edit photos, or create images—the brain performs a similar function.

Meanwhile, the brain is constantly storing memories and creating visuals. Beyond that, it engages in imagination, which is driven by the mind. The mind handles imagination using its nature of initial application (vitakka) and sustained application (vicāra), drawing the necessary objects from the brain's memory banks. So, the brain is not directly involved in imagination; it has an indirect connection. For the mind to imagine, it needs an object to focus on, and those objects are stored in our database. For example, if the data on our computer's 2-terabyte hard drive is lost, we cannot edit anything. Similarly, for the mind to think about something, the data must be there. The mind relies on that data, taking it as an object to think and imagine. Therefore, there is an interconnected relationship between them. It is exactly like how AI search engines are patterned and built.

Gemunu: How does a thought arise, Venerable Sir?

Thiththagalle Thero: How does a thought arise? I will answer that. For anyone listening right now, the act of listening itself involves a thought, doesn't it? The very first step in the arising of a thought in this context is a sound reaching the ear.

Gemunu: Yes, even if you could explain the cognitive series (citta-vīthi) simply.

Thiththagalle Thero: So, for a thought to arise, a sound must be heard by the ear. Or a smell must be sensed by the nose. A taste must be experienced by the tongue. Or some tactile sensation or touch must be felt by the body. If all these five senses are 'off' or inactive, we engage in what we call 'daydreaming' or mental proliferation—meaning an object comes to the mind. It is drawn from the memory bank. Now, if the memory bank is empty, that is what we call dementia; nothing can be drawn from it. No object arises. When no such object arises, there is still a subtle object present. That is the life-continuum (bhavaṅga). It is the object that was grasped at the moment of conception. The mind that sustains life through that object is called the life-continuum consciousness (bhavaṅga-citta). We can explain that in detail later.

So, what happens? You asked how a thought arises. The primary reason for a thought to arise is the coming together of the eye, the visible form (rūpa), and consciousness (viññāṇa). The eye, the form, and the mind must unite. Just because a reflection falls on the eye, it doesn't mean we 'see' it. People sleep with their eyes closed, but sometimes even if the eyes are slightly open and shadows fall on them, they don't know it because they are asleep. There can be sounds while we are sleeping, but we don't hear them. Therefore, the mere presence of the eye and the form is not enough. The mind (citta) must also join them for a thought to arise.

From that point onwards, based on what is seen and by recalling memories, the mind can weave stories: 'This is a lamp, this is a house, this is my house, this is his house, this is her house.' To put it even more simply, what helps a thought or a mind to arise is an object (ārammaṇa). As I just explained, it is an object. Yes, a mind cannot arise without an object.

Gemunu:. Venerable Sir, how do thoughts arise without our control? How do they come, and why do they come like that? We might think we have control, but we actually have no control over the arising of these thoughts, do we?

Thiththagalle Thero: We might think we have control, but we actually have no control over the arising of these thoughts, do we?

Gemunu: Yes

Thiththagalle Thero: They arise due to the support of various causes. Consider a matchbox and a matchstick. How is fire produced? Through friction. The matchbox, the matchstick, the friction, and the environmental conditions all play a role, and then a flame appears. Similarly, if the eye is intact, if there is external light, and if there is an object—a visible form (vaṇṇa-rūpa)—and if there is no physical or mental impairment, say in the brain or the body, then a thought arises. Sight occurs. We might think this happens because of us, but if that were true, a blind person should be able to see. But that is not the case. The eye must be intact, there must be light, and there must be color. Furthermore, the mind must also unite with these factors.

Therefore, this process does not operate under our control; it operates based on the support of causes. If even one cause is missing, what happens? We don't see. So, is there a controller, or is it an arising due to causes? That is why Buddhism states, 'Ye dhammā hetuppabhavā' (Whatever phenomena arise from a cause). Things arise because of causes, not because I want them to. If they arose simply because I wanted them to, we would be able to make them happen even when the necessary conditions are absent.

Let me give you an example. When we travel in a vehicle, we think, 'We are driving this vehicle.' If we are truly the ones driving it, we should be able to go without the engine. We should be able to go without the wheels. Can we? No. Therefore, the thought 'We are driving it' is incorrect. The vehicle moves due to the support of the engine, the support of the fuel, the support of the wheels, and the support of all the necessary nuts and bolts. It moves because of all those supporting causes. However, due to human ignorance, there is a tendency to claim ownership of things that do not belong to us. We immediately assume, 'The vehicle is ours, and we are the ones driving it.' But both of those are false concepts. If the vehicle were truly us, and if we were truly the ones driving it entirely on our own, we wouldn't need to buy vehicles with money. [Clears throat]

Gemunu: Should we place such weight on inanimate objects by thinking this way?

Thiththagalle Thero: Thinking like that is foolishness. It is upon this foolishness that the world runs. Even when we see something, we think with this same foolishness. Seeing happens due to the physical eye, right? And beyond that, the event of seeing occurs with the support of light, color, and the mind. But then we write our own narrative: 'I am the one controlling this seeing. I am the one who sees.' When there is a sound, we hear it. You hear it whether you want to or not. Why? Because the conditions are met. But then we write the narrative: 'I am the one who is hearing.' This is a massive delusion.

Untangling this very knot is the primary purpose of the Higher Teaching (Abhidhamma). This is what the Buddha points out. The Buddha did not teach the Higher Teaching (Abhidhamma) just to show off his intellectual capabilities. All Buddhas have preached the Dhamma to help beings eradicate this foolish thought—the delusion of assuming ownership where there is no owner, and assuming control where there is no controller.

Gemunu: If we turn our discussion a bit towards the practical side, Venerable Sir, we often say that in our day-to-day lives—whether at home, on the road, or even right here—we experience various emotions. We say we feel sad, we get angry, we feel hatred, we feel desire for something, or we feel love. We don't really know what happens inside the mind within the few seconds these emotions—like anger or desire—arise. To clarify further, when a feeling like desire or anger arises, what exactly is the change that takes place within the mind?

Thiththagalle Thero: It is not exactly a change within a single mind. Rather, an emotion is created through the accumulation of many moments of consciousness (citta). Let's take an example. When we go to a procession (perahera), there are fire twirlers. The person twirling the fire only has one torch. But because of the speed at which they twirl it, we see a continuous circle of fire. If we ask, "How do we resolve what is inside this circle of fire?" is that a correct question?

Gemunu:No, it is incorrect.

Thiththagalle Thero: It would be correct to ask, "Why does this single fire torch appear to us as a circle of fire?"

Similarly, if you ask to explain an emotion inside a thought or inside the mind, the premise of the question is incorrect. Asking "How does the change happen inside the mind?" is flawed. It is like asking to explain how the fire torch exists inside the circle of fire. In reality, an emotion is formed by the rapid succession and accumulation of many thoughts. An emotion is exactly like that circle of fire. Do you understand? Therefore, an emotion is not an ultimate reality. It is an optical illusion created by the speed of the mind's succession. The illusions created by the rapid succession of the mind are what we call anger, lust, and love.

Gemunu: How do concepts of 'good' and 'bad' thoughts get installed within this process?

Thiththagalle Thero: That comes down to culture. In human civilization, many early societies developed around rivers and mountain peaks, right? They settled near rivers, and from there, languages were formed, clothing styles were created, and cultures were established. Look at how it varies from place to place. In New Zealand, the most preferred color is black. They wear black clothes even for formal occasions, much like how we dress up to go to the temple. But in Sri Lanka, the preferred color is white. Here, white is considered good and pure. Black is often seen as gloomy, inauspicious, or associated with thugs. We don't have a positive perception of it. If a grandmother here goes to the temple, she would want to wear white. But a grandmother there might prefer black. So, it is entirely cultural.

What is considered 'good' or 'bad' is relative to specific groups of people. When a child is born, they are born with a pure mind. The brain is like a blank slate; everything is pure. It is exactly like bringing a brand new computer home. Then, depending on who uses it, different things are installed. One person might like flowers, so they save pictures of flowers. Another might like inappropriate content, so they save that. Another might like listening to Dhamma sermons, so they save those. What happens to the computer? It becomes shaped by what is put into it.

Similarly, a little child is an investment for human culture. The parents input their beliefs, the villagers input their culture, and the school teachers input their knowledge. What people do to that pure child is exactly what they do to a new phone or computer. They install these concepts. They tell the child, 'This is good.' They never taught us bad words in school, did they? No, they taught us good words. But alongside those good words, the other side of language exists—the words that society has deemed unacceptable. Even if they are unacceptable, they are part of the culture.

So, the concepts of 'good' and 'bad' exist within society; they are not inherently relevant to the mind or the brain itself. They are inputted through the ear, the eye, or through touch. Even with touch, we teach children, 'This kind of touch is good, but if someone touches you like this, it is bad, you must shout. This touch means something else.' These are concepts we have fed into the brain. They are not inherent to the mind itself. They are simply knowledge acquired relative to human cultures.

Think about the current conflict involving the people of Israel. Imagine if Netanyahu's son had been born to Khamenei, and Khamenei's son had been born to Netanyahu. If they had been born swapped like that, how would those two think today? They would have completely different mindsets, wouldn't they? So, when people go to war, what makes them feel their actions are just, fair, or unfair? It is entirely relative to what their specific society has fed into their brains. But people do not realize this. Even if they hear it, they lack the wisdom (paññā) to truly understand it.

In a discussion like this, what we are trying to awaken is that very wisdom (paññā). If people understood this through wisdom, they could walk this earth freely, without divisions of race, religion, or caste. Today, people are killing each other over their race, their religion, or for economic desires. If those two sons had been swapped, Khamenei's biological son would be trying to figure out how to save Netanyahu, his adoptive father, and vice versa. They would be trying to protect the one they consider their own.

This is entirely cultural. It is the same with the Sinhalese-Tamil issue we had. When human wisdom is awakened through learning the Dhamma and understanding the universal nature of reality, one transcends these cultural boundaries. If someone truly listens to this "Sithuwili Sakmana" (Promenade of Thoughts), what will happen to them? Will there be divisions within their promenade of thoughts? If they lack freedom or liberation now, they will be able to use this promenade of thoughts to step towards true freedom.

Gemunu: How does the physical body get sick, apart from the mind?

Thiththagalle Thero: Now, at this point, I will explain the Higher Teaching (Abhidhamma) in a way that is easy to understand, but you need to grasp the fundamental elements (dhātu) first. In this world, there are four forces capable of generating physical form (rūpa). All the trees and plants on this earth, their ability to grow and thrive—whose support do they rely on? The support of the sun. The sun. If we do that experiment we did as children, where we cover a patch of grass with a coconut shell to block the sunlight, that grass dies. So, the sun is a primary support. There are other supports, right? But the primary influence for the growth of trees and plants is the sun. The colors we see in trees are actually the colors derived from the sun. The entire color spectrum comes from sunlight.

Beyond that, the sun has the ability to create new physical forms (rūpa). What is within a physical form? If we take a tree, what does it consist of, Gemunu? Earth (paṭhavī), water (āpo), and fire (tejo). It has solidity. Earth (paṭhavī) is the nature of solidity. Water (āpo) is the nature of cohesion and fluidity. That is the water content; when you cut a tree, sap flows out like blood. Then, air (vāyo) is the nature of motion or wind, and fire (tejo) is the nature of heat or temperature. Next, it has a color (vaṇṇa), a smell (gandha), and a taste (rasa). Anyone can taste it. And there is also a nutritive essence (ojā). These fundamental natures exist within it. This combination is called an octad of pure matter (suddhāṭṭhaka). It consists of earth, water, fire, air, color, smell, taste, and nutritive essence (paṭhavī, āpo, tejo, vāyo, vaṇṇa, gandha, rasa, ojā).

So, one medium that can generate these octads of pure matter (suddhāṭṭhaka) is the sun. The sun is predominantly composed of the fire element (tejo-dhātu). The sun also contains the earth element and the air element. However, the sun is overwhelmingly—about 99.9%—dominated by the fire element. That fire element has the power to generate new physical forms (rūpa). That is what we observe as the growth of trees and plants. So, that is the first medium that generates form.

The second medium is the mind (citta). Our mind can generate these octads of pure matter (suddhāṭṭhaka). The formless mind—meaning the mind which itself has no physical form—can create these octads. That is the second one.

The third is the nature of action (kamma). Action (kamma) is an energy, and it has the ability to generate these octads of pure matter.

The other one is nutritive essence (ojā). We consume food, right? When we eat, we gain energy. The energy we get from eating honey is different from the energy we get from eating rice. Different foods contain this nutritive essence (ojā), this fundamental energy. Within our digestive system, this essence can provide new clusters of matter (rūpa-kalāpa) to the body. Do you understand?

Gemunu: I understand.

Thiththagalle Thero: So, coming back to your question. You asked how the mind influences the physical body. When we get angry, the stream of consciousness that arises—it is not just a single thought, but a continuous stream—continuously produces physical forms (rūpa) that are heavily dominated by the fire element (tejo-dhātu). That is why the body feels hot and heavy when we are angry. Or when we feel love. In English, in science, they call these hormones. But in Buddhism, we show that when a series of angry thoughts arises, the mind continuously supplies the body with forms that are highly solid, heavy, and hot. That is why we feel heated and tense.

The next factor is the water element (āpo-dhātu). When we feel love, when a stream of such emotions arises, the mind produces a different kind of form. When we practice loving-kindness (mettā)—which is the direct opposite of anger—what does the mind produce? It produces forms with lower heat and a more airy, light nature. That is why we feel light and relaxed. It generates clusters of matter (rūpa-kalāpa) with less solidity (paṭhavī). That is why the Buddha pointed out that if you practice loving-kindness (mettā), you will become more beautiful than if you used the best cosmetic cream in the world.

That is also why people's faces contort when they get angry. A police officer who is constantly filled with hatred might look like he is over 90 years old by the time he retires at 60. Right? The same goes for a doctor who is always angry. Right? However, if a police officer performs his duties with loving-kindness and compassion instead of anger, he won't look his age.

It is directly this form-generating nature of the mind that creates these physical forms and impacts the body. Now, you might not fully grasp this immediately, and the listeners might not either, but I have taught this before. There are only four mediums in the world that generate physical form (rūpa): the sun (temperature/utu), the mind (citta), action (kamma), and food/nutritive essence (ojā/āhāra). Beyond these four, there is no other medium in this entire universe that can generate physical form. Therefore, it is through this specific nature of the mind that our emotions alter the arrangement and balance of these elements (dhātu), which then integrate into our physical body.

Gemunu: Venerable Sir, is it possible for us to break free from the enslavement of the mind? If it is possible, how do we achieve that freedom?

Thiththagalle Thero: Well, the only path to breaking free from the enslavement of the mind is by engaging in discussions like this one. There are various types of discussions. For instance, suppose a person listens to a discussion about war. What happens? They become even more enslaved to their mind. Why? Because instead of gaining an understanding of the mind, that discussion amplifies the stream of emotions like hatred, multiplies those successions of thoughts, and they become a slave to their mind. They take a side. That is why the Buddha said that understanding one's own mind is far more valuable than speaking about winning seventeen wars. The greatest victory is conquering the mind, rather than winning sixteen wars. Similarly, this discussion we are having is entirely focused on the mind, the body, and their fundamental natures. It is through this kind of profound discussion that a person can truly break free from mental enslavement. There is simply no other way.

Gemunu: Excellent. We are on our podcast, "Sithuwili Sakmana" (Promenade of Thoughts), and we have been discussing the minor issues and doubts that arise within our present society regarding the Higher Teaching (Abhidhamma). We have the opportunity to inquire about these, sometimes as questions and sometimes as ideas, with Venerable Thiththagalle Anandasiri Thero. Venerable Sir, since this is our first episode, let's broaden the scope a bit. Let's open up this somewhat enclosed subject and discuss it more openly. We can always explore certain topics separately in detail throughout this series. We have talked about thoughts, and we have talked about the mind. Now, regarding the speed of a thought, we know that the Higher Teaching (Abhidhamma) explains this in a way that we can grasp somewhat simply. It is said that the time it takes for a single thought to arise is incredibly brief. However, we don't have a clear understanding of the speed at which these thoughts flow continuously, nor how that speed impacts our lives. Venerable Sir, could you please explain this to us, perhaps with some examples?

Thiththagalle Thero: It is like this. In one instance, the Buddha poses a question and explains it in this manner: 'Monks, imagine there are highly skilled archers in this world.' Let's say there are four archers standing at the four corners of a perfect square. They simultaneously shoot four arrows high into the air, covering a massive distance. Then, there is a man standing in the center who catches all four arrows before they hit the ground. Back then, they didn't have modern units to measure speed, so this was how speed was illustrated. The Buddha describes four highly skilled archers shooting arrows in four directions at the exact same moment, and a man in the center catching them all before they fall. He then asks, 'Monks, is that man in the center extremely fast or not?' [Clears throat] The monks reply, 'Venerable Sir, his speed is unimaginable.' Then the Buddha says, 'Monks, the earth you stand on rotates at a speed even greater than that.' He states that the speed of the earth is greater than the speed of that incredibly fast man. He then says the speed of the moon is greater than that. And the speed of the sun is greater still. He even mentions that the speed of the deity presiding over the sun is greater than that. Finally, he asks, 'Monks, do you know that there is something in this universe even faster than all of this?' What is it? He says, 'Your life span is depleting faster than all of that.' Right? That was the point the Buddha wanted to make. Look at it, Gemunu. Can you even fathom the speed at which we went from being born as little children, going to school, and arriving at where we are today?

Gemunu: Yes.

Thiththagalle Thero: It is only when we reach the moment of death that we suddenly realize, 'Oh, my life is already over, isn't it?'

Gemunu: Yes.

Thiththagalle Thero: When people have earned money, done all sorts of things, and finally pause to look back, they realize that on the other side, so much time has already slipped away. Do you understand? That speed is unimaginable. What the Buddha is pointing out is, 'Monks, although you may not realize it, your lifespan is depleting faster than that running man, faster than the speed of the earth, and faster than the sun.' Why did the Buddha emphasize this? In another instance, in the discourse on the physical body (Karajakāya Sutta), the Buddha explains the momentary nature of life. He explains the stream of consciousness, stating that in the Higher Teaching (Abhidhamma), the lifespan of a single mind (citta) is one thought-moment (cittakkhaṇa). A thought-moment is merely a convention. It is impossible to physically show a mind or even point to its existence.

To explain this, the Buddha describes three phases: the moment of arising (uppāda-kkhaṇa), the moment of presence (ṭhiti-kkhaṇa), and the moment of dissolution (bhaṅga-kkhaṇa). Arising, presence, and dissolution. He says that within this incredibly minuscule thought-moment, these three phases can be identified. It is not that the mind simply exists; it has the nature of arising, a fleeting nature of presence, and the nature of passing away. This means that even as we try to grasp a single thought, an entire stream of thoughts has already passed. Right? Many thoughts have already arisen and ceased. That is the speed of a single thought.

Furthermore, a single thought cannot accomplish anything on its own. We cannot even say the word 'mother' with the support of just one thought. To even think it requires a vast number of thoughts. A sequence of seventeen such thoughts is called a cognitive series (citta-vīthi). To develop the perception of 'mother,' several such cognitive series are required. It takes the processing of seventeen thoughts just to perceive it. When those seventeen thoughts end, the mind falls back into the life-continuum (bhavaṅga). The life-continuum is also a similar type of thought. A stream of life-continuum thoughts must pass before another cognitive series can begin. Therefore, even when we merely think 'mother'—not even say it, but just think it—that feeling cannot arise without the support of thousands of thoughts.

So, the shortest lifespan in this world belongs to the mind. That is why the Buddha said, 'Your speed...' The arising of our mind is the very proof that we are alive. The nature of experiencing or feeling something is our evidence of being alive. If we didn't feel anything, we would have no proof that we exist. That nature of experiencing is what we call the mind (citta). And for that nature of experiencing to turn into a recognizable feeling, it requires the arising of thousands of thoughts.

That is why I used the analogy of the fire circle. When a fire torch is twirled, it is the speed that creates the appearance of a circle. In reality, there is no circle. If you were to watch it in extreme slow motion, you would only see a single point of fire. Similarly, within the concept of 'mother,' there isn't actually a solid entity called 'mother.' If we could slow the process down immensely, we would see that it is an illusion created by the support of thousands of thoughts. The circle of fire is an optical illusion, isn't it? In the exact same way, every emotion we experience is not an ultimate reality; it cannot be physically pinpointed. By the time you try to point it out, it has already passed. It is supported by thousands of thoughts.

Therefore, this stream of consciousness is an incredibly rapid process. Within it, there is a profound wisdom—like the immense wisdom of a Buddha. When we drink water, we cannot see the bacteria in it with our naked eyes. But if we look through a microscope, we can see how many living organisms are in there. The wisdom of a Buddha is like that. Wisdom (paññā) is a nature of the mind. That nature arises differently in different people. The Buddha, having understood this profound reality, wanted to declare it to the world. He pointed out, 'This is an empty, hollow process.'

If people truly believe the circle of fire is real, they are foolish. When everyone who sees the circle of fire says, 'That circle of fire is absolutely real,' it is a very foolish statement. A person with true wisdom knows, 'What is happening here is that we are being deceived by a rapid process.' Our entire life is exactly this kind of deception.

Gemunu: Venerable Sir, we often discuss the Basket of Discourses (Sutta Piṭaka). We also discuss the Basket of Monastic Discipline (Vinaya Piṭaka). I believe the Basket of Higher Teaching (Abhidhamma Piṭaka) is the peak.

Thiththagalle Thero: It contains the very essence of the Buddha's profound wisdom.

Gemunu: The core essence is found there. However, if we can understand this the way you are explaining it, we can untangle many things, and I believe it brings a great sense of ease.

Thiththagalle Thero: If we truly understand this, the very first thing is... let's take that group of people who have never known the truth about the fire circle and firmly believe it is real. Then, someone comes along and says, 'Listen, there is no actual circle of fire there. It is just one person twirling a torch very fast. Because of those specific causes, we experience an optical illusion.' It is at that moment that people begin to feel a sense of doubt about themselves and their deeply held beliefs. They start to wonder, 'Is what I believe correct, or is what this person saying correct?' They develop a desire to investigate.

However, not everyone will make that effort. Only those within that group who have an inquiring nature will try to investigate. The others might think, 'Has this guy lost his mind? We see the circle of fire every day. Why is he telling us this? Our parents believed it, our ancestors said it, and our teachers taught us that it is a circle of fire.' Many people cling to their views (diṭṭhi). [Clears throat] Because of their views and opinions, they are unwilling to listen to an external perspective. Why? Because if they listen, their beliefs might be shattered. Therefore, they prefer to live comfortably within the beliefs they have seen and heard.

But among these people, another group is born. They always have a lingering doubt about blindly believing things. They wonder, 'Should we just believe this because our parents and teachers said so? Could what this new person is saying actually be the truth?' Right? Their trust is now divided. It is split between their generational beliefs and the new message. They have a doubt: 'This person could be right, or my people could be right. I need to investigate this.' What prompts this inquiring nature is that external message. It is a blow to the beliefs they have held onto for so long.

It is exactly like this: imagine living for about 30 years, firmly believing someone is your mother. We haven't gone and done DNA tests, right? We just believe it based on the bond we have formed. Then, someone comes up to us and says, 'Hey, that is not your real mother.' At that moment, what is the first feeling we have towards that messenger? Is it love or hatred? [Laughter] The second one.

Gemunu: The second one.

Thiththagalle Thero: That is exactly why people threw stones at the Buddhas in this world. That is why they threw stones at Jesus. Because it is like telling someone who has believed all their life that a certain person is their mother, 'No, she is not.' Right? However, they can never forget those words.

Gemunu: Yes.

Thiththagalle Thero: Just like that, the words spoken in this discussion cannot be forgotten. People might swear at what is being said here. Doubts might arise. But they cannot forget it. Why? Because until now, no one has ever told them such a thing—that 'this is not your mother.' Right? [Laughter]

After hearing something like that, they won't be able to sleep. If they have an inquiring nature, they will investigate. If they are foolish, they might just go to sleep. But for an inquiring mind, the thought 'She is not my mother' will keep surfacing. They will start to feel the cracks in the belief they have held onto for so long. Then, they will begin to investigate. I am using a simple analogy here. They might look into DNA testing, check the results, and try to figure out, 'Is it like this? Is it like that?' Through that investigation, they will understand and confirm for themselves whether she is their mother or not.

In the same way, they will investigate the concept of the fire circle. According to the Buddha, none of this is ultimate reality. It is an illusion. It is a misunderstanding caused by speed.

Gemunu: That means the entire world is an illusion.

Thiththagalle Thero: The entire world is an illusion. The mind is simply this: a network of creations formed by the speed of thoughts—the speed at which thoughts arise and pass away—which has become our entire belief system. And we don't believe this with just a single thought. The most fascinating part is that this succession of thoughts creates the concept of 'I.'

Just as someone can twirl a torch to create a circle of fire, they can also twirl it to create a triangle of fire. Similarly, using the speed of the mind, various mental constructs and illusions can be created. We can imagine and fabricate all sorts of things. You asked about 'I,' didn't you? The processes of seeing and hearing arise due to certain causes. A false construct that arises from this process is what we believe to be 'I.' Right?

As we go deeper and deeper into this discussion, if a person has the mental capacity to focus on this, they can see for themselves how they have constructed this illusion. To give another example: if you bring a dog in front of a mirror, it barks. If you bring a monkey, it reacts to the mirror. Why? Because the animal doesn't understand that it is a reflection. It doesn't see a reflection; it sees another dog. But is that the truth?

Gemunu: No.

Thiththagalle Thero: For us humans, it is not the truth because we have the knowledge to understand it. We understand shadows and reflections. That is why we don't bark like a dog when our shadow falls on a mirror. We don't attack it, do we? We have the wisdom to know, 'This is not another person.'

But if that dog were to gain the wisdom we have, would it still bark at it? No. What I am saying is that the feeling a human has regarding their 'I' or their ego is exactly like the dog's reaction. Just as the dog is deceived by the mirror, we are deceived by the shapes and forms created by the speed of our thoughts. If our wisdom truly awakens, if wisdom (paññā) is developed, we will not be caught in that deception. It would be like the dog gaining wisdom.

Gemunu: When that wisdom awakens, when true understanding dawns, what happens to the succession of thoughts?

Thiththagalle Thero: It is like this. Let me give you an experience to reflect on. We look at many things with our eyes, right? If we really think about it, our language is primarily composed of verbs. 'Looking' is a verb, an action. 'Hearing' is an action. 'Thinking' is an action. 'Eating' is an action. Breathing—everything is an action. If we consider this, at any given moment, one of these basic actions—looking, hearing, thinking, eating, drinking—is occurring.

Let's say... [Clears throat] We look. We constantly perform these actions. But have we ever thought about what 'looking' actually is? Listen carefully; you might not grasp this immediately. I will explain it again if needed. We look every day. We say, 'I looked at a tree, I looked at a child, I looked at the sea, I looked at the sky.' We say things like that. But that is not what I am asking. I am not asking about the object that was looked at. I am asking, what is the act of looking?

If someone were asked that, what answer could they give?

Gemunu:Is it the act of looking with the two eyes?

Thiththagalle Thero: No, I am asking about the action itself. Yes, not the physical act of using the eyes. We look at so many things from the moment we wake up until we go to sleep. How much do we see? How much do we hear? How much do we think? I am not asking about the content. If we investigate what the action itself is, what do we find? What exactly is 'looking'? What exactly is 'thinking'? What exactly is 'hearing'? I am not talking about the object heard. If we investigate the action of 'hearing' itself, what do we discover? If we investigate it from the other side, yes, what do we find?

Gemunu: The mechanism... It is unclear.

Thiththagalle Thero: Yes, the very act of 'hearing' itself—what is it?

Gemunu: It is unclear.

Thiththagalle Thero: Exactly. It is within that very unclear nature that wisdom (paññā) begins to emerge. The answer you discover there is what we call the stream of wisdom. Do you understand?

Gemunu: I understand.

Thiththagalle Thero: Looking at it from the conventional side, we say, 'I saw the child. I saw the house. I saw that, I heard this, I thought this.' That process is what we call delusion (moha).

Gemunu: Yes,

Thiththagalle Thero: But if we investigate it from the opposite side, the stream of consciousness that arises through that investigation is what we call wisdom (paññā). You won't find a conventional answer there. The answer you find is that you become free. You attain liberation. Otherwise, you remain entangled.

Gemunu: Why must we learn the Higher Teaching (Abhidhamma)?

Thiththagalle Thero: That is exactly where the issue lies. We look, don't we? We think, we believe, we see a mother, we see a father. We see the earth, we see the sky. We think about these things, and we believe they are real. We construct an image of 'I.' We become attached to these things. We believe all of this is the ultimate truth. But instead of believing an eternal lie to be the truth... Imagine a person inside a prison. Suppose you and I are locked inside a prison, but we both firmly believe we are living in an incredibly free world. Right? If that were the case, why would anyone ever want to escape from that prison? [Laughter]

Gemunu: I understand.

Thiththagalle Thero: Right now, all of us are trapped inside a prison, but we simply do not know it. Yes, we think we are living in a wonderfully free world.

Gemunu: Are we actually living in a simulator?

Thiththagalle Thero: Well, if it were merely a simulator, that would actually be better! As you listen to the Higher Teaching (Abhidhamma), you will realize that we are in a much deeper, thicker darkness than that. Right? If it were just a mental simulator, it would be much easier to break free from it! [Laughter]

So, this is exactly why I emphasize the need to learn the Higher Teaching (Abhidhamma). The key to escaping this prison is the Higher Teaching (Abhidhamma). If you learn it, you will no longer look at things the way you have been looking at them all this time. You will begin to investigate the underlying process itself. The language required to investigate that process is the Higher Teaching (Abhidhamma). Right? To even encourage a person to make that effort, to guide their mind towards it... Take an ordinary example: you can guide a child to pursue a degree. You can tell them, 'There is a degree at Cambridge. If you pass these exams and do this, you can achieve it.' If they follow those instructions, they can earn that Cambridge degree. Right? But what is it that guides a person's mind towards ultimate liberation (Nibbāna)? That [Clears throat] is the Higher Teaching (Abhidhamma).

Gemunu: Very well, Venerable Sir. May the blessings of the Triple Gem be with you. We will meet again on another day to engage in another brief promenade like this on "Sithuwili Sakmana," bringing the profound subject of the Higher Teaching (Abhidhamma) further into our social discourse. May the blessings of the Triple Gem be with you.

Thiththagalle Thero: May the blessings of the Triple Gem be with you. [Music]

Original Source (Video):

Title: බුද්ධ ශාසනයක මුලින්ම අතුරුදන් වෙන්නේ අභිධර්මය - පූජ්‍ය තිත්තගල්ලේ ආනන්දසිරි හිමි | Sithuwili Sakmana

https://youtu.be/81mD5szFN3w?si=8-dbXJLmbckHM2bR

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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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