No race of people living on this earth, without any exception, lives in isolation. People of every country live in groups, forming societies, forming circles of families and friends. It would be correct to say that people are cowardly, and it would not be wrong to say that people have to socialise and to be involved with one another. We, bhikkhus who are fearless and resolute should live alone in seclusion. But fundamentally we still have to live in groups and in company. We still have to have contact with our peers, though we spend most of the time wandering around and living in seclusion and solitude. But from time to time, there will be the occasion and necessity to come into contact with our peers and our teacher, to ask some of the questions that we might have arising from our practice, and to listen to further instruction about the truth and Dhamma. So in the end, we are also classified as social animals, with the exception that our way is different from that of the other people.
The traditions, customs, rules, and disciplines of the bhikkhus and the laity are different from one another. The traditions and the discipline of the bhikkhus follow the rules of the Dhamma-vinaya, and, therefore, in all our conduct and behavior we must conform to the principles of the Dhamma-vinaya. We also have to be mindful of our thoughts, and of which way they are going. We have to be concerned with the morals of it, and whether this thinking is going in the right or the wrong way, for it is still possible that even if we are not going against the Vinaya, we could be going against the Dhamma. To break the Vinaya is a grosser offence, whilst breaking the Dhamma is a more subtle violation. They are all the work of the kilesas, and that is why we have to be careful; for we are here for the purpose of overcoming and correcting the kilesas. We must not take these thoughts lightly.
Our actions of body and speech that we exhibit when we communicate with our peers must be watched and observed. Whether we are living in seclusion or in the company of our fellow bhikkhus, we have to be mindful of our conduct and behavior. We have to be observant of the rules and the discipline which is the Dhamma-vinaya. This is our way of life, and we must not abandon it. When we live with others, we have to follow the traditions, the rules, and the disciplines, of the society that we are living in, and this is the society of the bhikkhu. The laity have their own laws and customs to govern themselves. They have their own ways and customs which are of a coarser nature, as they are not very strict with their behavior and conduct. It is not like the way of the bhikkhu. Speaking from the principle of the one who has gone forth, the bhikkhu must be careful at all times, and be mindful and observant of all of his behavior and conduct—every action of body, speech, and heart, and in all postures.
We are now living together in a social group made up of varying temperaments and personalities. We bring with us our own old ways and habits. The core of our personality and character is uniquely our own. We have to realize that these are each individual’s personal traits and have to be very careful when we exhibit them. The conduct and behavior that go contrary to the principles of the Dhamma-vinaya, which affect and disturb our fellow bhikkhus, are not considered as traits or personality. Every one of us here must therefore be very careful, cautious and vigilant, for this is the way of maintaining peace and harmony amongst ourselves. This is the way of preventing any trouble from arising. It is as if we are all the same organ. Our practice of the chaste and holy life will flow smoothly and with ease, for there will be no mental hindrances or any problem aris - ing from this way of living together.
There will be nothing to menace and trouble the heart, nothing to confuse, agitate, or prevent it from becoming calm as one tries to develop samādhi. For this reason, we have to be very careful and vigilant. All of us have to bear this well in mind—that we are now a bhikkhu. We must maintain our status of the bhikkhu, both in our hearts and in our behavior and conduct, of speech and bodily action. We have to make sure that they don’t affect and disturb other people. As far as conceit and snobbery are concerned, this is directly the work of the kilesas. We have to con - sider them as harmful to ourselves and our colleagues. We must avoid mindlessly exhibiting and hurting everyone around us, as this is just the way of spreading filth and destroying happiness. This is espe - cially so in the circle of the kammaṭṭhāna bhikkhu, a very refined class of people. Our behavior and conduct must be virtuous and conforms with the principle of the Dhamma-vinaya. This moral excellence does not come from any unestablished principle. We must strictly adhere to the Dhamma-vinaya as our guiding principle because it is the most sublime.
We will see this clearly when we develop our heart. The more refined the heart becomes, the more will we be impressed with the subtlety of Dhamma. But at the same time the kilesas will also become correspondingly more subtle, so we must not be complacent and take them lightly. We always have to be vigilant. The happiness that arises from living together is the con - sequence of each one of us being careful and cautious, mindful of our kilesas, and preventing them from exhibiting themselves. It is the nature of the kilesas to always agitate us and make us sad and gloomy. At the same time they also affect and disturb others, by creating emo - tional strain in those people such that they cannot live in peace, for they always have enmity and aversion within themselves. This will significantly damage the work of mental development. Even when there are no tensions, it is already very hard to practice meditation. This is because in the mind there is a natural process that constantly pushes the mind into thinking and concocting about this and that, causing it to become restless and agitated, to the extent where it is impossible to enter into calm, in spite of the application of maximum effort. This is how the mind normally is. And when there are issues and problems to deal with, then it is like adding fire to it, that will only afflict it with more discomfort and stress, then spill over to the other members of the community, thus preventing them from living in peace and happiness.
In this way, we just build up a lot of bad kamma for ourselves and others. This is not what a practitioner who strives for the eradication of all forms of immorality, should be doing whilst endeavouring to live together in peace and harmony. We have to oversee ourselves, and have self-control and discipline. Our behavior and conduct must not go in the way of the kilesas. This is the principle of living together. When there are no clashes or friction, and when we all follow the prin - ciple of rationality, truth, and Dhamma, then there will be no room for the ego. We will only uphold what is right based on the principle of Dhamma as the determining factor. Even though the mind might not attain calm, at least there will be no dukkha, as the dukkha will not be able to arise when we have left no room for it to come out. This is one form of peace and happiness: living together harmoniously among friends and among good people.
We should not look at each other with enmity, but we should look at each other in the light of reason. If there is the necessity and due reason for us to become involved and enter into contact with one another, we should allow ample room for mettā or goodwill, and make allowances for other people’s mistakes. Let bygones be bygones. This is the way of the practitioner. We should not look at others in the light of animosity and enmity. When we see anyone breaking the rules of the Dhamma-vinaya, then we must warn and admonish him. We must gladly take and listen to any warnings and admonishments from our fellow bhikkhus. The one who listens does so in the light of Dhamma, for the purpose of correcting the wrong that he has committed, so that he can conform to the right way that has been pointed out by his peers. This is the proper way for both parties, both the one who gives the admonishment and the one who takes the warning. The one who admonishes does so in the light of Dhamma. He does not do it out of displeasure or dislike, or for the sake of finding fault with another, or to humiliate and embarrass the other person. The one who takes the admonishment also does so in the light of Dhamma. He respectfully takes the criticism as if he is being shown a store of great treasures. This is right and proper for both sides.
Living together in harmony is important. If one of the members of the community behaves badly, then it will have an adverse effect on every other member of the community. For this reason, living together means that each one has to be careful and cautious. There should always be forgiveness for one another, befitting our status as the practitioners of Dhamma who are filled with Dhamma within our hearts, and being principally endowed with mettā and karunā, love and compassion. For this is the basic constituent of the mind of the practitioner. A practitioner must always cultivate mettā towards all living beings: ‘Sabbe sattā averā hontu’, and so forth. Furthermore, one also cultivates the Karaniya Mettā Sutta, and the other suttas dealing with the brahma-vihāras, the four sublime abodes. A bhikkhu must always cultivate these thoughts. What I have shown here is only an example. It is for you to take it up and develop it in your practice. The cultivation of mettā is for happiness and coolness. Furthermore, you have to cultivate yourselves in the practice of mental development. Don’t engross yourselves in the thoughts of animosity and distaste for anyone.
You have to consider that we are living together following the way of Dhamma. Always be forgiving and magnanimous. A bhikkhu is one who can sacrifice everything. A bhikkhu is always forgiving. If a bhikkhu cannot forgive, then nobody else can. This is the crucial principle that the bhikkhu should follow. Then when we live together, we will live in peace and harmony, in happiness and coolness. This is the governing principle of a community. It is for this reason that it is not possible for me to accept too many bhikkhus. I have thoroughly thought about this. I am not concerned that there might not be enough of the living requisites to go around, for I am looking from the standpoint of supervision. When I have to oversee a lot of people, I will not be able to give adequate attention to everyone. There is also a greater possibility for one of us to cause damage and disturbance to the rest of us.
There will then be chaos and trouble for the whole community. This is not good or desirable. But when I can maintain the numbers of you here at the optimum level, then my instructions to you can be to the fullest benefit, and I can give you all the necessary attention. Excess breeds mediocrity. When there are too many of us, then whatever we do will take longer. For instance, the time that we spend eating will be much longer instead of shorter. We have to spend more time getting things done. By the time we finish our chores, it can be quite late in the day. There will be a lot more work to do just to take care all of us. The more people we have, the more work we have to do. Then there will be less time left for practice, and less benefit. For this reason, I only accept just enough, because this is just about the right number. If I take any more it will be excessive. Things can go badly if there are too many. The possibility of people making a mess of things is far greater, and there will just be more clumsiness and incompetence.
And it will just be a nuisance for me. I have a lot of mettā and compassion for my Dhamma colleagues. How can I not have any compassion for those who are seeking for Dhamma? I also used to be a junior bhikkhu who was searching for a teacher. I had to go through many teachers before I finally ran into Tan Ajaan Mun. I sympathise and understand your feelings and your predicament, for I have put myself in your place. Otherwise, I would not be able to know how to deal with you. This is because both of our predicaments are of the same nature, for we are in the same boat. The way things are now, some of you might think that this temple is very strict and very resolute, and very rigorous and scrupulous. This is because you haven’t seen how I practiced in the past. The laypersons applaud this monastery as being unsurpassed by any other monastery, concerning our strict observance of the rules and the discipline, of orderliness and cleanliness, and of the bhikkhus who are obedient, and well-behaved, not showing any signs of transgression and mischief.
This is how they sing our praises. But we should not indulge in this sort of compliment, for I have really been very lax with all of you. And what is the reason for this slackness? It is simply because there are just a lot of you now, and this laxness is the natural consequence of it. When there are more of you, then this laxness increases, and the amount of the gifts and the living requisites also increases correspondingly, as you all can see. But our practice and exertion does not become more rigorous and intensive. There are also a lot more people that come into contact and involvement with the monastery. So the more people there are, the more work there is. But there isn’t much that we can do about it, as this is their faith and conviction. They come voluntarily, and nobody can prevent them from doing this. The amount of food that we are getting nowadays is grossly in abundance. This excess of the living requisites, and of the gifts and offerings, can weigh down on the practice of mind development. If one is not careful, one will steadily degenerate, without any doubt. For this reason, the practitioner must always see the harm of these things, and must not become too involved. If he does, he will be buried by them and his Dhamma virtue destroyed. He will never progress.
We must, therefore, be vigilant. Meditation practice is extremely vital for mental development. We must be courageous, firm, conscientious, and resolute, not weak or discouraged. Otherwise, we will fail and not achieve any beneficial results. We have to always remind ourselves that every type of kilesa is extremely tenacious. They are far more clever and cunning than we are. If we act foolishly and practice heedlessly and senselessly, then we will never be able to subdue or eliminate any of the kilesas, because they will always be more powerful, shrewd and crafty than we are, and that is why they are our master. We might think that we are the masters, but truly, we are not. We are just the kilesas’ servants without knowing it. All of our thoughts are initiated by the kilesas. They direct us to think in a way that will generate a lot of agitation and confusion, brew up hatred and aversion. Love and anger are the kilesas’ creations. Can we not see that they are perilous and harmful? How can we consider ourselves more clever than them, and capable of outwitting them? We are always following their lead every time that we think.
We never realize that hatred is just the work of the kilesas. We never realize that anger is also the work of the kilesas. The same with love and aversion. We are not aware that they are the strategy of the kilesas that push and propel these things into being. But if we know this at every moment, then the kilesas can definitely be subdued. This is a very crucial point for the practitioner. We must constantly keep this well in mind. We have to realize that there is a very great difference in skill and aptitude between ourselves and the kilesas. With what can the kilesas be conquered? It is nothing else but our saddhā, conviction, sati, mindfulness, paññā, discernment and viriya, our diligent effort, acting as the support. Sati is terribly important. Paññā is the tool that does the work of analysis and examination, countering and contending with the kilesas. Sati is the overseer, making sure that we do not lose our guard. And when we have been relentlessly developing and exerting ourselves, then sati will become highly developed. It will then become sampajañña, constant awareness. This is the outgrowth of mindfulness. After sampajañña, it will become mahāsati.
The same applies to pañña, which starts with difficulty in the beginning. Please don’t have the understanding that paññā will arise by itself. We have to devise various ways of thinking, contemplation and analysis that are versatile and manysided. In whatever way we can subdue and calm the kilesas and eliminate them, that way is Dhamma. This is the paññā-dhamma. We must not rely entirely on the scriptures, otherwise we will turn into worms eating up the paper. All the Dhamma that the Lord Buddha taught came out of his heart. The Dhamma is found within the heart. Sati-paññā is also found within the heart. We have to bring them out. We have to produce them. Then we will be able to see into the principle of cause and effect, and use it to contend with the kilesas that are extremely cunning and clever.
They are always the master in every instant of our thinking and concocting, and during every moment of contact through the eyes, ears, nose, tongue, and body, which all converge and become the dhammārammaṇa, mental objects right within the heart. These are all the works of the kilesas. The reason why we still cannot see the danger of the kilesas is because we are still a lot more foolish than they are. If we are a lot wiser, then when they begin to concoct, we will be aware of them. As soon as they concoct, we will know. We have to strive in this way, and then the result will be as I have just said, without any doubt. We have to be constantly developing and training our mind. The practice of fasting is a very good way of reducing restlessness and agitation. It is one means of supporting our exertion. The fasting practitioner must be careful every time he fasts. It happened to me before, and I am giving you some precautions. In the beginning stages of fasting, the mind will become consistently cool and calm; the mind is fully possessed with mindfulness and one is hardly ever off-guard. But when one takes some food, then one become unmindful and inattentive, which is something quite normal. When we fast again the result might not be like before.
Instead of becoming cool and calm, we become disappointed and saddened. The mind now yearns for the past result and neglects the work at hand, which is the establishing of mindfulness. Thinking of the past has now replaced it, and therefore, the results are not forthcoming. We have to cut off this yearning and concentrate on developing mindfulness. Whatever has happened in the past, however firm and stable the mind was before, it has already happened. They were the results gained from our exertion, the same kind of exertion that we are now putting forth, which is the establishing of mindfulness. These results cannot come forth by any other means. We must stay in the present. Don’t rake up the past by hankering for the past results. However lofty they might have been, we must now forget them. Don’t think of them, for they will just agitate and disturb the heart. We will then not be able to attain calm. Then there will just be regret and frustration, and grumbling and complaining that this is not like before.
This is one form of hindrance. For this reason, I am exhorting you not to become involved with thinking about what happened in the past. We must remain in the present and ask ourselves: ‘How am I doing? Why is the mind not calm?’ We must focus our attention here. If we cannot take hold of the knowing, then we must not abandon our mantra or parikamma object. Wherever we go, we have to stay close to the mind. Keep the mind constantly concentrating on the mantra, using it as the meditation subject. Whatever it may be, be it ‘Buddho’ or ‘aṭṭhi’ or ‘kesā’, ‘lomā’, ‘nakhā’, ‘dantā’, or ‘taco’, keep the mind concentrating and holding on to it. Don’t let the mind think about other things. If we are not mindful, the kilesas will then direct it to think about other things. When we are mindful of the mantra, the mind will then become calm. This is the key to a successful practice. In the beginning stages, when we try to establish calm, it is quite difficult.
But no matter how hard it is, we must not let it bother us. We must consider our exertion to be free from dukkha extremely vital for us and we have to continually exert ourselves. We have to develop mindfulness until it becomes stable, continuous and persistent. When the time is appropriate for paññā to do the work of investigation and analysis, we must then do it using both the internal and the external as the objects of investigation and comparison. Magga can be found in both the internal and the external. Paññā can be found both internally and externally, if one just develops it so that it actually becomes paññā, which is also called the magga. And what aspect are we going to investigate in the light of aniccaṁ or impermanence, for instance? We can take the external as the objects of investigation, and then compare it with the internal. This can be done. Or we can compare the internal with the external, for in fact they are one and the same thing. There is no difference between them concerning aniccaṁ, dukkhaṁ, and anattā, or asubha, loathsomeness, or paṭikkūla, filth and impurity. They can be found, both internally and externally, in all men and women, people and animals. We can investigate and analyze in any way that we devise, at any appropriate time.
But when we develop calm, we must solely concentrate on calming the mind, using a mantra or ānāpānasati, mindfulness of breathing as our meditation subject, that suits our temperament and character. The work must be flowing continuously, having sati constantly supervising. Then our knowing will continuously flow with the work. Once the knowing is in perpetual contact with the meditation subject, and the mind doesn’t have any chance to wander here and there, the mental stream will then steadily converge into the centre of calm. It now becomes the unique and distinctive feature of the mind. When this feature becomes more apparent, the mind will become calmer. All the thinking and concocting will gradually diminish. The recollection of the mantra will also decrease. What takes its place now is this very distinctive knowing. Whether we recollect the mantra or not, this knowing will still remain.
This is what is meant by the mind converging into itself and ‘becoming itself’. This is the calming of the mind. You have to really and earnestly concentrate in doing this work. Dhamma is the most supreme and wonderful thing, unsurpassed by any other thing. The kilesas are ignoble, despicable, filthy and corrupt. When we haven’t yet seen and experienced this marvellous Dhamma, we have nothing to compare the kilesas with. So we always follow the kilesas, always believe them, and let them rock us to sleep. But when we have something to compare it with, then we can see that the kilesas are fake. Dhamma will then become real, and become the truth. It will then compete with the kilesas. We will then gradually let go of the kilesas, and see the harm of every kind of kilesa at every moment. This is because we now have the Dhamma as a comparison and as a com - petitor. Whether it is the calm or the discerning ability of the heart, whatever level of calm it is and however brilliant and subtle paññā may be, all of them are Dhamma.
These dhammas are the competitors of the kilesas. We will get to know immediately the difference between the Dhamma and the kilesas, concerning the benefits, ease, comforts, and happiness that they can provide. This is how it will be for all practitioners who do not relent in their exertion, and who strive in ridding all the kilesas from their heart. They achieve this by the power of the Dhamma. The taste of Dhamma excels all other tastes. All other tastes are nothing but the taste of the kilesas. What else can they be? Whatever flavor it may be, it is usually the flavor of the kilesas. The Dhamma always outstrips the kilesas. The kilesas always sur - render to the Dhamma. They are not afraid of anything else but the Dhamma. They capitulate to the Dhamma. So how do we make the kilesas surrender and be fearful of the Dhamma? We must develop and train ourselves with the Dhamma. We must not relent or back down. We will then experience calm and insight right within the heart. We will also discover the means and techniques used in subdu - ing the kilesas right within the heart.
Once we have cleared the way of hindrances, then the Dhamma will have the opportunity to grow steadily, not dependent on time or place or postures. When the op - portunity is there, the Dhamma will steadily appear, just like when the kilesas emerge. When the conditions are right for them to appear, then they will appear. The more the kilesas appear, then the more the dukkha. The more the Dhamma emerges, then the more the happi - ness. This is the basis of comparison and competition between the Dhamma and the kilesas that can be seen clearly within our hearts. The kilesas have ruled over our hearts for a long time. Aren’t we ever going to learn our lesson about their menace? It is about time that we did so now, as there is now the Dhamma that will serve as the competitor to them, and the object of comparison and contrast. We will then begin to exert in our practice, and keep on driving inwards. At least we should try to make our heart calm, so that we can have peace and happiness. For one who has gone forth, especially if he is a practitioner, if he doesn’t have any calm within his heart, he will never have any happiness. Living amongst his peers, he will see that everything around him is antagonistic to him. Though he might not exhibit this externally, it will be building up within his heart. He will not be able to see how wonderful and noble all of his teachers are because his mind is burning with fire.
All of his thoughts are fiery. When the mind doesn’t have anything unusual or marvellous within itself, but is fully possessed with the kilesas. Then, when he thinks about his peers, his fellows in Dhamma, and his teachers, it will all go in the way of the kilesas. He will not be able to see their marvel and wonder. He will become dull, weak, discouraged, always retreating, letting the kilesas trample upon him, totally tearing him into pieces. Does this befit us who are the practitioners, the followers of the Tathāgata, who take up the foremost and most supreme Dhamma of the Lord Buddha? We are making ourselves vulnerable to the kilesas, and letting them trample all over us from the tops of our heads down to the soles of our feet, for countless lives. And we still have not learned our lesson yet! When are we ever going to come up with any wisdom? How can we ever believe in the Lord Buddha? It is more correct to say that we take up ‘Rāga-taṅhā saraṇaṁ gacchāmi’, lust as our refuge.
There is just empty wind when we utter ‘Buddhaṁ, Dhammaṁ, Sanghaṁ saraṇaṁ gacchāmi’, for truly it is all the time ‘Rāga, dosa, moha saraṇaṁ gacchāmi’, as we are much closer to them than to the Dhamma. We only think about the Dhamma occasionally. But the kilesas are ever-present, deeply buried and completely merged with the heart itself. There is no way that the Dhamma can infiltrate the heart to make it marvellous and wonderful.
But when the mind has attained calm, we will then see our worth and assets, and see the merit and virtue of the heart, of our colleagues, and of our teacher. The more subtle and lofty the mind becomes, the more we will come to see the marvel and greatness of our teacher. And why is this so? Previously, when our teacher taught us the Dhamma instructions in their depth, profundity and subtlety, we could only listen. It never got to our hearts. But when we have experienced the Dhamma like the state of calm, we can see clearly that it is exactly as our teacher had explained. It is now a living reality within our hearts. All the various levels of sati and paññā instructed by our teacher have now also appeared within our hearts.
We will see clearly within the heart the results that arise from the investigation of paññā that overcomes, uproots, and eliminates the kilesas, until the heart becomes purified. The intensity of our conviction, belief, and admiration for our colleagues and our teacher, will become heightened as the mind remains with the way of Dhamma. I try my best to provide all of you with favorable times and opportunities to practice, but you have to put in the effort yourselves. I try to keep all the extra-curricular activities to the minimum, so that you can really strive in your practice. If you find walking meditation is good for you, then you should keep on walking. If you are not doing any other kind of work, then you should do a lot of walking meditation. The body can be adversely affected if it is not given the proper work-out and exercise. You should, therefore, do a lot of walking meditation, as a way of working-out. Sitting for a long time or sitting a lot depends on your ability.
This is not something that can be forced upon you. It depends on your own disposition, and what is suitable for you. As far as I myself was concerned, in the beginning stages of practice I found it quite painful after sitting for about 30 minutes. But then I was able to extend it to an hour, an hour and a half, two hours, and three hours and four hours, sitting each time. During each session of sitting, I usually sat for about three or four hours. But when the time came for putting in an all-out effort, then it just happened by itself. There is a time when you come to a critical situation, with which you will have to contend until you come up with the results and come to true realization and insight. This is when you go into the ring and put your whole life at stake, like sitting all night. I had never anticipated doing this before. But as I began to sit, then the kilesas would begin to gather up their forces and really strike at and swoop down on me. I began to wonder what was going on. It seemed like I was being obstinate and unyielding, though it was going in the way of Dhamma. I said ‘What is happening?’
This is the way of the magga, contending with my own kilesas. I’m not picking a fight with anyone. If I’m fighting with other people, then this is the work of the kilesas. But if I’m doing it for the purpose of conquering myself, then this must be the magga, the weapon to fight the kilesas with. My mind now begins to turn around incessantly, but when it stops, I then say ‘Alright, it’s either I realize the truth or death!’ I immediately set up a resolve: “Today I have to get to see the truth that is manifesting itself right at this time. What is it like? If I don’t die, then I have to remain sitting until morning before I will get up from this seat. From this moment until dawn, I will not let anything come to sidetrack me from this work.” The mind then began to turn around investigating incessantly. That is how it was when I sat meditating all night long. When you have established a firm foundation from this way of practice, then this becomes a very good way to proceed. You will have no qualms, nor have any fear of the pain that you have investigated before, now that you know how to totally separate the pain from the heart. It can no longer enter the heart and affect it in any way.
You have clearly realized the truth of the body. Every part of the body is one form of truth, it is as it is. The pain that appears doesn’t know that it is painful. It is one form of process or condition, one form of truth. It exists as it is. It is the mind that alleges that I am painful, that I am experiencing the pain, rounding it all into this ‘I’. When the body, the pain, and ‘I’ are mixed together, the mind then ends up burning itself, because paññā cannot catch up with this delusion. But when paññā has analyzed and differentiated every part of the body and the nature of pain, and seen them according to the truth, then every part of the body is just the body, the pain is just the pain. They are all just as they are, and as they have been since ancient times. Pain is a condition that arises, remains, and disappears, as it is natural for it to do so. It is the mind that supposes, assumes and presumes. Saññā is really the chief culprit here. When you understand this, then the mind will steadily draw inwards. Actually it is saññā that is steadily drawing inwards. You will then get to see the truth within your heart. The heart then becomes real, the body is real, and so is the pain. They each are real. Although the pain did not disappear, it will not affect the heart.
The heart will remain calm and at ease. This is an extremely crucial technique, for you have now established a base. You are now bold and courageous, and the mind becomes sublime, elegant, brilliant and luminous. You can now see the indescribable marvel within your heart that you have never experienced before. With this much success, you are quite proud of yourself. You can now fearlessly face up to the pain, as well as coming face to face with death. You will just say, “Where will this death come from? What form of pain can deceive me? At the time of death, what kind of pain can appear if not this same kind of pain that is appearing at this time?” But I have already understood the truth of the pain that is appearing at this time. For me, death really has no meaning or significance at all. All that is necessary is to get to know the truth.
The four elements of earth, water, air, and fire, will just dissolve from this body. They just return to their original state. And how can the mind die? Whilst I think that it passes away, it instead becomes more distinct and remains knowing. So what really dies? Do the four elements of earth, water, air, and fire, ever really die? Have they ever been destroyed? Of course not! It never happened! And how can the mind die, when I can see it becoming more distinct and obvious? Is this the one that is going to die? How can it die? I cannot find the cause of it’. It just manifests itself more distinctly and obviously. I become very brave and courageous. This is speaking about the time when it is suitable to put in an all-out effort into the practice. This will come by itself. May all of you put in your effort and strive in your practice. Don’t relent or retreat, and be always and constantly endeavouring and striving. You have to take hold of this supreme treasure, and make it your own possession right within your heart.
As far as the kilesas which are ruling over your hearts are concerned, they have been here for aeons, their origin untraceable. This is due to your delusion that makes you fall completely under the control of the kilesas, allowing them to trample on and damage your heart, pushing you to take birth in the various forms of existence. Whatever form of birth you take up, it is all due to the influence of the kilesas. It is the kilesas that lead you to born and die, to suffer pain, trouble and hardship. If you cannot see the harm of the kilesas, then what can you see the harm of? There is nothing else that is harmful to you. The external conditions such as the climate, the hot and the cold weather, are all something quite ordinary. They are not as dangerous as the kilesas which hurt and oppress you. This is how you have to see the danger of the kilesas. Then it will be possible for the heart to live in peace and tranquillity.
In practice, there are two essential keys to success. The first one is when you come to the true conviction in the principle of Dhamma, when you have established a firm foundation for the heart, and are completely certain that the mind will no longer deteriorate. It can be achieved by sitting all night. This accomplishment will be clearly perceived. You now know definitely that the mind will now not deteriorate. You then move on to eliminate rāga or lust by incessantly contemplating on the loathsome nature of the body, which is a bit tricky but you will eventually achieve it. You then move on to the last stage of your practice, to the pinnacle of the heart, to the pinnacle of knowledge, and to the pinnacle of your practice, where you will find that this is also a bit tricky to achieve. If you have not ‘cracked’ this secret yet, you will not be able to explain it to the other practitioner. You can only learn it from practical experience.
This is similar to what the scriptures say: That an ordinary person who has not yet realized any of the four stages of enlightenment is not capable of solving the problems of a sotāpanna. A sotāpanna is not capable of solving the problems of a sakadāgāmī. A sakadāgāmī is not capable of solving the problems of an anāgāmī. An anāgāmī is not capable of solving the problems of an arahant. An arahant is not capable of solving the problems of the Lord Buddha. Also, no other arahant is capable of solving the problems of the Venerable Sāriputta and the Venerable Mogallāna, problems that are not about the elimination of the kilesas, but are beyond the ability of the other arahants. But when I spoke about the tricks needed to solve the problems of the sotāpanna, the sakadāgāmī, the anāgāmī, and the arahant, I meant the tricks used in the elimination of the kilesas. When you ask someone who has not learned these tricks that you have learned and seen not from written scriptures, but clearly from your practical experience, be it at any level, he will not be able to answer you. Even if he is a very learned scholar of the Tipiṭaka or Buddhist Canon, he will be stuck. Therefore, speaking from the practical experience point of view, how can anyone be contemptuous of the kammaṭṭhāna practitioner who can ask you questions that you cannot answer? Consider, for example, at the time of the Lord Buddha.
There was a well-learned scholar who had accomplished his study of the tipiṭaka. He was scornful of the kammaṭṭhāna bhikkhus and treated them with contempt and derision. All of these kammaṭṭhāna bhikkhus were arahants. So when the Lord Buddha heard of him and came upon the scene, he asked them some questions. He first asked the scholar, whose name was Poṭhila, but he was not able to give an answer. He then asked a kammaṭṭhāna bhikkhu, who happened to be an arahant. He was able to give an answer immediately. The Lord then asked another question on another level of Dhamma. He asked Poṭhila the scholar.
Again he was not able to answer. When he asked the kammaṭṭhāna bhikkhu, he answered immediately again. When the Lord Buddha asked the scholar some more questions, he was not able to answer any of the questions. When he asked the kammaṭṭhāna bhikkhu, he was always able to answer right away. The Lord Buddha then said to the scholar, ‘You should not be contemptuous of the kammaṭṭhāna wwbhikkhu, because you are similar to a cowherd, a hired hand. You only get paid a salary to make a living from. But the arahants, who are the sons of the Tathāgata are similar to the owners of the cattle. They can do anything with the cattle at any time they please, for they are the owners. They are not the hired hands. They are the bosses’. That was how the Lord Buddha expounded this discourse, as it was recorded in the scriptures. There are a few tricks in the practice. When those who have al - ready experienced them talk about them, they will all understand. They know what wrong view is. When you have the wrong view, al - though you may think it is the right view, and tell it to someone who has already attained, he will know. For instance, you may think that you have got rid of rāga or lust. When you tell it to someone who has already eliminated lust, he will know if you have really got rid of it or not. The important thing is that you should keep on practising and progressing until you yourself experience these sublime results which cannot be kept hidden from you.