Sunday, December 28, 2008

Ajahn Chanai - Wat Wang Serm - Phra Bhavana

"Wat Wang Perm - Phra Bhavana"


Wat Wang Perm - Phra Bhavana is a branch monastery (in Kao Yai, about 150 km from Bangkok) of Wat Doi Dhamma Chedi (in Sakon Nakorn) where Ajahn Baen is the abbot. Current Ajahn Chanai is the most senior monk there. Evening meditaion sessions are held everyday from 7pm to 11pm except Satuarday where the session goes to midnight.



Friday, December 26, 2008

Meditation Hall

Meditation hall can be a place for freedom, or it can be a prison if all you want to do is getting "back to samsara-ing".

Sunday, December 21, 2008

A 10K Run

Yesterday I went for a run for about an hour around a 500m track, and tried to be mindful at the same time (I usually count steps). I kept having random thoughts creeping up in the first half an hour, but this creeping up of random thoughts reduced as time went by, and the longer I ran I was able to be with counting of steps more. Found it to be useful, although the strength of mindfulness from this "running meditation" was less than that from "walking meditation" for the same amount of time.

I believe that we have to continue to practice 24/7 rather than only in sitting or walking meditation, or when we study the scriptures and read teachings of our Ajahns/ Masters. Watching the breath while we go to sleep; be openly aware of the surrounding when we walk to lunch; and watching emotions, etc, as we go about our office work are parts of practice.

And all of these should be guarded by moral conducts, sila.  

Wednesday, December 17, 2008

Better @ Home

It has been about 2 months now that I came back from Hong Kong to work in Thailand for good, just before the collapse of Lehman actually. 

Although I was mostly alone after work in Hong Kong as opposed to coming home to be with my family in Bangkok, I find that I practice better here. Probably because the combination of a little slower pace (of life in general) in Thailand and the fact that I am with my family so I don't have to worry so much about them when I lived in another country. Perhaps also because now I can just drive to Kao Yai or take a short trip to Sakon Nakorn to see Ajahn Baen who I have not seen over the past two years.


Sunday, December 14, 2008

Within This Body...

"Within this fathom-long body the entire universe may be known." - Buddha (from a book, don't know the original source)

Saturday, December 13, 2008

Bahiya

Báhiya Dárucíriya

An arahant. He was born in the family of a householder of Báhiya (Ap.ii.476 says he was born in Bhárukaccha) - hence his name - and engaged himself in trade, voyaging in a ship. Seven times he sailed down the Indus and across the sea and returned safely home. On the eighth occasion, while on his way to Suvannabhúmi, his ship was wrecked, and he floated ashore on a plank, reaching land near Suppáraka. Having lost all his clothes, he made himself a bark garment, and went about, bowl in hand, for alms in Suppáraka. Men, seeing his garment and struck with his demeanour, paid him great honour. Though they offered him costly robes and many other luxuries, he refused them all and his fame increased. Because of his bark garment he was known as Dárucíriya. In due course he came himself to believe that he had attained arahantship, but a devatá (a Suddhávása-brahmá, who had been his fellow celibate in the time of Kassapa Buddha, says the Commentary, see below and also MA.i.340), reading his thoughts and wishing him well, pointed out to him his error and advised him to seek the Buddha at Sávatthi. By the power of the devatá, Báhiya reached Sávatthi in one night, a distance of one hundred and twenty leagues, and was told that the Buddha was in the city begging alms. Báhiya followed him thither and begged to be taught something for his salvation. Twice he asked and twice the Buddha refused, saying that it was not the hour for teaching. But Báhiya insisted, saying that life was uncertain and that the Buddha or he might die.

The Commentaries say that Báhiya was excited by his meeting with the Buddha and that the Buddha wished to give him time to regain his calm, hence his refusal. The Buddha knew of his impending death and of his upanissaya for arahantship. He was a pacchimabhavika.

The Buddha then taught him the proper method of regarding all sense experiences - namely, as experiences and no more. Even as he listened, Báhiya became an arahant and the Buddha left him. Shortly after, Báhiya was gored to death by a cow with calf (cp. the story of Pukkusáti). The Buddha, seeing his body lying on the dung heap, asked the monks to remove it and to have it burnt, erecting a thúpa over the remains. In the assembly he declared Báhiya to be foremost among those who instantly comprehended the Truth (khippábhiññánam) (A.i.24; Ud.i.10).

Báhiya's resolve to attain to this eminence was made in the time of Padumuttara Buddha when he heard the Buddha declare a monk foremost in instantaneous comprehension. In the time of Kassapa Buddha, when the Buddha's teachings were fading from the minds of men, Báhiya was one of seven monks who climbed a rock, determined not to leave it until they had attained their goal. Their leader became an arahant and the second an anágámí - passing into the Suddhávása world; the rest were reborn in this age as Pukkusáti, Kumára Kassapa, Dabba-Mallaputta, Sabhiya and Báhiya. Although Báhiya had kept the precepts in previous births, he had never given a bowl or a robe to a monk. For this reason the Buddha did not, at the end of his sermon, ordain him by the "ehi bhikkhu pabbajá." The Buddha knew that Báhiya had not sufficient merit to obtain divine robes. Some say that he was once a brigand and had shot a Pacceka Buddha with an arrow and had taken possession of the Pacceka Buddha's begging bowl and robe.

Báhiya met his death while searching for a robe in which to be ordained (UdA.77ff.; AA.i.156ff.; DhA.ii.209ff.; Ap.ii.475ff). The cow, which killed Báhiya was identical with the one which killed Pukkusáti, Tambadáthika and Suppabuddha (for her story see DhA.ii.35f).

Awareness Itself by Ajahn Fuang

Bit from Awareness Itself 

Once the mind is firmly established in the breath, you then try to separate the mind from its object — from the breath itself. Focus on this: The breath is an element, part of the wind element. Awareness of the breath is something else. So you've got two things that have come together. Now, when you can separate them — through realizing the breath's true nature as an element — the mind can stand on its own. After all, the breath isn't you, and you aren't the breath. When you can separate things in this way, the mind gains power. It's set loose from the breath, and is wise to the breath's every aspect. When mindfulness is full, it's wise to all the aspects of the breath, and can separate itself from them.

Now if it so happens that your mind is strong and your mindfulness sharp while you're doing this, that's when insight occurs. The knowledge will arise in that moment, letting you know that you've really let go. If your mindfulness is still weak, though, you won't be able to let go. Only when your mindfulness is really resilient will you have mindfulness and insight arising together.

This is something you have to keep contemplating whenever you have the chance. When you can separate the mind from its objects, it'll be freed from all its burdens. So focus your attention right down, in the area of the heart. Keep it focused there, and then observe the breath and what it is that's aware of the breath. Be as observant as you can, and eventually you'll see that they separate from each other. When they've separated, that gives you the chance to investigate further inside. And once you've investigated this one element, you'll find that what you learn applies to everything else.

When you investigate the breath, you'll find that it's not a being, not a person — so what is there to latch on to? You can't latch on to it as your self, for it simply goes its own way. When you look at the breath you'll see that it doesn't have a body — no head, no legs, no hands, no feet, nothing at all. When you see this, you let go of it, in line with the way it really is.

The texts say, 'Cago patinissaggo mutti analayo': You move out of the breath. You remove your concerns for it. You don't make it your home any longer — because it's not yours. You let it go in line with its original nature. You give it back.Whatever it's got, you give it back to nature. All of the elements — earth, water, wind, fire, and space — you give back to nature. You let them return to what they originally were. When you examine all five of these things, you'll see that they're not a being, not a person, not 'us', not 'them'. You let them all return to their original nature in every way.

This then brings us to the mind, what it is that's aware of these five elements. What is it going to stay with now? Turn your powers of observation on this knowing element that is now standing on its own, with nothing else left. Examine it to see what's what, and that's when another level of insight will arise.

If you want to gain the insight that will let go of all things in line with their original nature, there has to be a special realization that arises in the act of letting go. If there isn't this realization, your letting go is simply an ordinary, everyday label or perception. It's mundane discernment. But when this special realization arises in the act of letting go — the instant you let go, the result comes right back at you, verifying, certifying what's happened for what it really is: You know. You've let go. You then experience the purity within you.

This is called transcendent discernment. When the realization arises within you, verifying what you've seen and what you've done, that's called transcendent discernment. As long as this realization doesn't arise, your discernment is still mundane. So you keep working at your investigation into things until all the conditions are ripe. Then when they're ripe, there's nothing more you have to do, for transcendent discernment penetrates things completely the very instant it arises. It's not like mundane discernment at all.

The path we follow, then, is to be observant, to investigate things. Keep making a focused investigation until you reach the strategic point. When the mind reaches that point, it lets go on its own. What happens is that it reaches a point of fullness — the Dhamma within it is full — and it lets go. Once it lets go, the results will appear immediately.

So. Keep on practicing. There's nothing to be afraid of. You'll have to reap results, there's no doubt about it. You reap results all along the way. Like right now, while you're sitting in meditation here. You know that the breath and the mind are comfortable with each other. That's a result of the practice. Even though you haven't yet reached the end of the path, you're still gaining a sense of comfort and ease in your meditation. The mind is at peace with the in-and-out breath. As long as the mind and breath can't separate from each other, they have to help each other along. The mind helps the breath, and the breath helps the mind until they can get fully acquainted. Once the mind gets fully acquainted, it can let go. When it knows, it lets go. As long as it doesn't really know, it won't really let go.

What this means is that you have to associate with the breath, spend time with it, and gradually come to know it. As the mind gets more and more acquainted, it will be able to unravel its attachments to body, feelings, perceptions, thought-constructs, and consciousness. Its identity-views — seeing these things as the self — will fall away. This is the way to freedom. The moment this transcendent discernment arises, you'll be free. You'll be able to disentangle yourself from all the conventional truths of the world that say, 'person', 'self', 'man', 'woman', 'us', 'them', and so on.

But as long as you can't yet let go, you still have to depend on these things. They're your resting spots, but not your refuge. You simply lean on each other, and help each other along, so that you can make progress on your way. You can't abandon these things, for they're the path of your practice. As long as you stick with the practice, you won't fall back. But as soon as you let up on the practice, you'll start back-sliding immediately. You'll fall prey to doubts, wondering whether or not the Dhamma is true.

You have to keep being observant of the mind: awareness itself. It's not the case that the mind isn't aware, you know. Its basic nature is awareness. Just look at it. It's aware of everything — aware, but it can't yet let go of its perceptions, of the conventions it holds to be true. So you have to focus your investigation on in. Focus on in until the mind and its objects separate from each other. Simply keep at it. If you're persistent like this, without let-up, your doubts will gradually fade away, fade away, and eventually you'll reach your true refuge within you, the basic awareness called buddha that sees clearly through everything. This is the Buddha, Dhamma, and Sangha appearing within you as your ultimate refuge.

This is when you'll know what's actually within, what's actually without, what's actually a resting spot, and what's really your refuge. You'll be able to distinguish these things.

Things outside are simply resting spots. Like the body: It's a resting spot. For the brief moment that the elements of earth, water, wind, and fire stay balanced together, you can rest with the body. But as for your true refuge, you've already seen it. It's this basic awareness itself, within the mind. Your awareness of the breath is a refuge on one level. When it separates from the breath, it's a refuge on another level. And as for your true refuge — buddha — that's the awareness that lies further within. Once you realize this, that's all there is. It's sovereign in and of itself. It knows clearly and truly, all around. That's the true refuge within you.

As for things outside, they're just temporary supports, things you can depend on for a little while, like a crutch. As long as there's the breath to keep them alive, you make use of them. When there's no more breath, that's the end of the problem. The physical elements separate and no longer depend on each other, so the mind returns to its own true refuge. And where is that? Just where is that buddha awareness? When we've trained the mind to be its own refuge, there will be no sorrow at that moment in the meditating heart.

The Buddha's own search was for this refuge. He taught all of his disciples to take refuge in themselves, for we can depend on others only for a little while. Other people merely show us the way. But if you want what's really true and good in life, you have to depend on yourself — teach yourself, train yourself, depend on yourself in every way. Your sufferings come eventually from you. Your happiness, eventually from you. It's like eating: If you don't eat, how are you going to get full? If you leave it up to other people to eat, there's no way you're going to get full. If you want to be full, you yourself have to eat. It's the same with the practice....

Liberation

Bit from Ajahn Thanissaro...


Liberation [go up]

There is that dimension where there is neither earth, nor water, nor fire, nor wind; neither dimension of the infinitude of space, nor dimension of the infinitude of consciousness, nor dimension of nothingness, nor dimension of neither perception nor non-perception; neither this world, nor the next world, nor sun, nor moon. And there, I say, there is neither coming, nor going, nor stasis; neither passing away nor arising: without stance, without foundation, without support (mental object). This, just this, is the end of stress.

— Ud 8.1

Where water, earth, fire, and wind have no footing: There the stars do not shine,  the sun is not visible,  the moon does not appear,  darkness is not found. And when a sage, a worthy one, through sagacity  has known (this) for himself, then from form and formless,  from pleasure and pain,   he is freed. 

— Ud 1.10

Aggivessana Vacchagotta: 'But, Venerable Gotama the monk whose mind is thus released: Where does he reappear?'

Buddha: '"Reappear," Vaccha, doesn't apply.'

'In that case, Venerable Gotama, he does not reappear.'

'"Does not reappear," Vaccha, doesn't apply.'

'...both does and does not reappear.'

'...doesn't apply.'

'...Neither does nor does not reappear.'

'...doesn't apply.'...

'At this point, Venerable Gotama, I am befuddled; at this point, confused. The modicum of clarity coming to me from your earlier conversation is now obscured.'

'Of course you're befuddled, Vaccha. Of course you're confused. Deep, Vaccha, is this phenomenon, hard to see, hard to realize, tranquil, refined, beyond the scope of conjecture, subtle, to-be-experienced by the wise. For those with other views, other satisfactions, other aims, other teachers, it is difficult to know. That being the case, I will now put some questions to you. Answer as you see fit. What do you think, Vaccha: If a fire were burning in front of you, would you know that, "This fire is burning in front of me"?'

'...yes...'

'And suppose someone were to ask you, Vaccha, "This fire burning in front of you, dependent on what is it burning?" Thus asked, how would you reply?'

'...I would reply, "This fire burning in front of me is burning dependent on grass and timber as its sustenance."'

'If the fire burning in front of you were to go out, would you know that, "This fire burning in front of me has gone out"?'

'...yes...'

'And suppose someone were to ask you, "This fire that has gone out in front of you, in which direction from here has it gone? East? West? North? Or south?" Thus asked, how would you reply?'

'That doesn't apply, Venerable Gotama. Any fire burning dependent on a sustenance of grass and timber, being unnourished — from having consumed that sustenance and not being offered any other — is classified simply as "out."'

'Even so, Vaccha, any physical form by which one describing the Tathagata would describe him: That the Tathagata has abandoned, its root destroyed, made like a palmyra stump, deprived of the conditions of development, not destined for future arising. Freed from the classification of form, Vaccha, the Tathagata is deep, boundless, hard-to-fathom, like the sea. "Reappears" does not apply. "Does not reappear" does not apply. "Both does and does not reappear" does not apply. "Neither reappears nor does not reappear" does not apply.

'Any feeling... Any perception... Any mental fabrication...

'Any [act of] consciousness by which one describing the Tathagata would describe him: That the Tathagata has abandoned... Freed from the classification of consciousness, Vaccha, the Tathagata is deep, boundless, hard-to-fathom, like the sea.'

— M 72


Wednesday, December 10, 2008

4NT and God

Doesn't the Four Noble Truth negate any existence of eternal God??

Practicing without goals

I have a feeling that our capitalist culture of the 21st century has embedded us with the belief that whatever we do, we must set goal, have a target, and set a course of action that will make us successful in reaching that goal. In Theravada Buddhism, some may have a goal of becoming a stream enterer, a non-returner, or an arahant. Mahayana Buddhists, with my limited knowledge, have a goal of becoming a future Buddha and helping all beings with full compassion. 

But are things like... having a goal, setting a timeline, measure success and failure by monitoring our progress toward achieving the goal or milestones... counter the practice of Buddhism?

Shouldn't we practice simply to let go, be mindful of both wholesome and unwholesome thoughts and conducts and let them go? In vipassana, shouldn't we simply observe the mind, body, and what we call "our physical world", etc, and see if their true natures are simply anicca, dukkha, anatta? If any attainments will come, they will simply come when the time is right, when we have practiced enough along the right path...

Perhaps we can practice in a more relaxed manner without setting any goals.

Saturday, November 29, 2008

Changed domain name

Ever since I used the domain name "forestdharma.net", I always felt uncomfortable because it sounded like it represented the whole of the Thai Forest Buddhist tradition while it actually was simply my personal blog on Buddhism.

So there it is...SimplyBuddhist.com :) 

I will keep "forestdharma.net" re-directed to this domain name for a while then I will let it go...

Friday, June 20, 2008

Wrote to post in a forum...but haven't decided

Well, we can say that there is sight (as in picture in front of us). The contents of sight, such as brain/body, are beliefs, mind-made stuff.

When we drink water, there is sensation of drinking. What if due to kamma, we are conditioned to experience this drinking sensation. Perhaps there is only a belief, although a very very strong one, that "we are drinking water from that bottle." It may be an illusion, no?

On the other hand, the "sensation of drinking" cannot be disproved because it is experienced (i.e. a billion people cannot convince me that there no sensation), but the contents of that sensation can be disproved (we can be dreaming of drinking, or awake and drinking), so beliefs can be changed. We see things, and believe that we see though our eyes, signs are processed in our brains due to the contact of photons on retina, etc. These are still only beliefs..., concepts.

Perhaps it doesn't matter at all if there really is the world out there or not.

As long as the experiences, not even the contents, have the characteristics of impermanent, stressful, not-self, they are simply samsara.

I am not trying to say that there is no physical world out there, that there is no fingers that are typing on the keyboard. What I try to say is that they cannot be proven to exist without the assumption that there "is" physical world in the first place. They can only be believed to exist.

Go a bit deeper...there is a catch

There is a sensation of "being". No doubt about it. Nobody can disprove that there is no experience of this "being", in whatever form. However, just as sight, sound, smell, etc, the sense of "being" comes and goes. The problem is that the believe in "being" is even stronger than the believe in the existence of the "world out there" (since it can be convinced that the world is an illusion or a dream; some people think life is a dream and a dream is life!!). As the sense of "being" is directly experienced, people across the span of time have no doubt about its existence and that it is indeed this"being" who do things, control things, experience things, aware of things.

But if there really is any "being" as in a soul or a self, why does it come and go? How does "being" be experienced at all? Not suggesting that there is a universal awareness or something, but by investigating the sensations and this "being" perhaps one will know its slippery true nature as impermanent, stressful, not-self, simply a conditioned thing arising due to ignorance, and ......may be ".." can be experienced (not jhanas), which is even stronger than any other experiences, and the world of samsara as we know it may be turned upside down, evaporated into stream of ever changing consciousness, and the existence or no existence of the universe rendered meaningless :)

Just a thought.

A busy morning

One busy morning about 8 years ago (I believe the photo was taken in 2000) when Ajahn baen just completed the meditation place/branch sub-monastery (whatever the right word is) in Kao Yai. Normally there are less bhikkhus than this, except for important occasions.

Meditation on breathing

I have a habit of cut and paste what I have written in Buddhist forum, just to log them basically. This is another short one on meditation, with focus on the breathe.

We can just observe the breathing continuously, especially when it is boring, because if there is still boredom in meditation, our minds are not calm yet - still monkey minds. But also, when we feel happy just to observe the breathing (or lack of it) and don't want to do anything else, it is probably a good time to start using the concentrated minds to do some real work (i.e. proper vipassana/ seeing nature of samsara, which can be done in several ways).

Old photo of Ajahn Baen and the King


This photo is about 30 years old, taken (not by me) at Wat doi Dhamma Chedi when the King of Thailand went to visit Ajahn Baen in Sakon Nakorn. A bit of background...Ajahn Baen is a student of Ajahn Kongma. He is now 80+ and usually stays at Wat Doi dhamma chedi, about 20 minutes drive from Ajahn Mun's museum. Ajahn Kongma is the one of the fist generation students of Ajahn Mun. He passed away a long time ago. 

Monday, March 24, 2008

Random thoughts...experiences in meditation and traditions

I have been thinking about meditation, experiences in meditation, and the teachers/traditions in which one study/practice in. What would happen if someone has deep insights and report to the teachers who may not have experienced the particular insights? What if the tradition also dismiss any kinds of experiences if they are not in accordance to the tradition? What if the teachers are not experienced enough to guide that particular practitioner?

[I am not talking about myself though. The forest tradition as taught by Ajahn Mun and his students, to me, is the tradition that I know I will be with until the day this body disintegrates, if not after...Simple, yet profound, is my opinion of the Thai forest tradition.]

Saturday, March 15, 2008

Bhavanga - Ajahn Thate

A post by Santerisuro at E-Sangha on Ajahn Thate's teaching

.....Here are few words of great forrest meditation master, Luang Por Thate, about bhavanga

The Autobiography of a Forest Monk

"The weather had been incredibly hot when I was organizing the building of shelters and meditation huts at Wat Pah Salawan in Korat. I don't like hot weather but I had gritted my teeth and endured, persevering in my meditation without let up. I had trained my mindfulness so well that there was stillness and calm throughout day and night. Sometimes it would converge and enter the bhavanga and totally disappear for many hours. This, however, is certainly not the way that allows wisdom to be born.I had been trying to correct this tendency for a long time both by my own efforts and by asking others for help. It had never previously succeeded but this time I found a way out for myself. This was by being ready to apprehend the heart when it was right at the point of convergence into bhavanga. At that moment the condition of awareness becomes unmindful and there is the inclination towards indulgence in the pleasure of the tranquillity and happiness. When mindfulness fades the mind will converge into bhavanga. The thing to do is to apprehend it right at the point when it is fading towards indulgence in that refined tranquillity. Catch it there and swiftly set mindfulness on to a coarser object and focus and examine it more externally."

http://www.accesstoinsight.org/lib/thai/thate/thateauto.html

Luang Por seems to be saying, that dropping into the state of bhavanga during meditation is not a good thing. At least not always.Luang Por Thates experiences of bhavanga are interesting to contemplate. The bhavanga he is talking about, is equivalent to some kind of a state of samadhi. This samadhi is not jhana... There is no sharp vitaka and vicara. One-pointedness seems to be there. It is just not very stong.The bhavanga state that Luang Por is talking about, is a samadhi state without strong mindfulness. It is like a lucid dream state without any dreams.This are just my own contemplations of Luang Por's words. Not he's own....

Is Zen exclusive to only Zen !@?

I just started reading the book "The Zen of Creativity: Caltivating Your Artistic Life" by John Daido Loori. In the Introduction, the author wrote that:

"In the sixth century C.E., Bodhidharma, considered to be the first ancestor of the Zen lineage, put forth the four points that define Zen:

Zen is a special transmission outside the scripture,
With no reliance on words or letters,
A direct pointing to the human mind,
And th realization of englightment.

Zen is about the experience of Buddha's enlightenment, not the words and ideas that describe it. To understand or believe in enlightenment doesn't impart any lasting strength. But to realize it - to make it real for yourself - can transform your life. The teachings of Zen always point directly to the inherent perfection of each one of us. The Zen arts are a form of direct pointing."

----------

Anyway, although Zen does not use scripture as a part of its teaching (as far as I know of Zen anyway), the method itself is not confined to Zen, in my opinion. Some other Buddhist traditions, though teach students to learn the basic teachings of the Buddha first, prefer to tell students that when they practice they have to "let go" of all that they have been taught as they are merely concepts made by the minds. Although they may be correct concepts, or partly correct concepts, they are still concepts, and hanging on to these concepts can prevent progress in Buddhist practice.

So Zen type of practice may not be exclusive for students of Zen, in my opinion.

Wednesday, March 12, 2008

Never underestimate

I have always felt that we should not underestimate others' knowledge and realizations of dhamma even though they have only started practicing for a day or a week. They may have practiced so much in their past lives, or they may have already entered the stream to nibbana.

Monday, March 10, 2008

The Mindful Way ...Ajahn Chah

Mindfulness...of senses

About a year ago, after attending a meditation session in Kao Yai (with my teacher), I went to listen to a group of upasika practitioners who were discussing meditation and practice. One upasika that has been practicing for quite a while and has also been observing 8 precepts since I remember seeing her, was saying something along this line...

"..The key is to watch the mind right where the senses arise. Catch the sensations when they arise, and don't let them lead to anything. Keep being extremely mindful of these sensations, and keep on letting go of any follow-on mental factors, and never stop doing so (i.e. a 24/7 type thing). Whenever you fail to stop these sensations from leading to further mental factors, that is when you loose mindfulness...So keep mindfulness right at the mind, and watch the sensations as they arise. If any mental factors arise due to these sensations, stop them dead where they are..."

Saturday, March 8, 2008

Meditation...external and internal worlds

When we go about our daily living, we try to find some exciting things to do, some fun parties somewhere during weekends, and memorable experiences when we visit foreign countries and talk to people who have been through certain amusements. When we go to work, we want progress, progress and more progress.

When we meditate, we also naturally want to experience something mystical. And sometimes we do experience something we have never experienced before, and we want more of it. That creates goals and expectations. If we read about certain attainments and stages of samadhi, we want to experience them. That also create goals and expectations in meditation.

Experiences both inside and outside of the mind are the same. They share the same characteristics - anicca, dukkha, anatta. So we can look at the external world in the same way as internal world, as the world of samsara. And do so objectively.

We are conditioned to create goals and expectations, and want to experience "wow" feelings both externally and internally. We carry our expectations that we normally have of the external world into our meditation practice. So it's difficult to be totally relaxed about it, and have no expectation when we start learning to meditate. That is normal. But as time goes by, we should find that in order to calm the mind, we simply ....sit. If we go on to vipassana, we simply observe and investigate. That's all.

Wednesday, March 5, 2008

Ajahn Dune on nibbana

I have been reading a bit of "posts" at my usual Buddhism forum. I can't be bothered to post there though. However, I always like Ajahn Dune's small bit on nibbana, as well as Ajahn Mun's bit on Avijja (in his biography, posted here somewhere already)

108. Final words

A few moments after we had finished chanting the Mahasatipatthana Discourse, Luang Pu began speaking about the Lord Buddha's total nibbana, from the beginning to the end. Here, I'll ask just to quote his concluding remarks:

"The Lord Buddha didn't attain nibbana in any of his jhanic attainments. When he left the fourth jhana, his mental aggregates all ceased at once, with nothing remaining. In other words, he allowed his feeling aggregate to cease in an awake state of mind, the normal human mental series, complete with mindfulness and alertness, with no other mental states coming to blind or delude the mind at all. This was the mind fully in its own state. You could call that state great emptiness, or the original cosmos, or nibbana, whichever you like. That's the state I've been practicing all along to reach."

Those were Luang Pu's last words.

Imagine...

Not Buddhism...but...imagine ;-)

Tuesday, March 4, 2008

Sila and Meditation

Obviously one reinforces the other. Anyway, this is a little part on my post on meditation :

...
....And perhaps the most important of all, in my opinion, is sila. Observing precepts (in my case only 5) does help in meditation as it help prevent unwanted thoughts from happening too often. As for maintaining and getting into samadhi (for some, jhana), reducing enjoyment in sensory world does also help a lot. For me, that means simply no night clubbing activities (too old anyway), reduce craving and attachments to material things and sensory pleasures. For those who are able to, observe 8 precepts consistently is ideal for lay practitioners. These things do help in meditation, and in maintaining mindfulness 24/7.

Monday, March 3, 2008

Two planes of meditation and "intuitive awareness"

Another bit of my post on a Buddhist forum regarding Ajahn Sumedho's "intuitive awareness."

....To expand on this, simply put, there are 2 planes of meditation [not saying that one is better than another]. One is meditation on the "contents" of experience. Another is meditation on the experiences themselves, not on the contents. The first is simpler to understand as in everyday experience, since we were born, we have been conditioned to think that "I am thinking.", "I am hearing", "I am meditating.", etc. As this is the mode of our thinking, it is easier to start meditation by paying attention to the "breathing that I am doing" or "the arising and falling of my abdomen". This is a duality-type meditation.

On the second plane of meditation, instead of going into the "contents" of experience, we can simply meditate on the experiences themselves. This is, IMO, a non-duality type of mediation. Instead of starting with the "I am doing something, etc", we simply rest in the awareness – aware of experiences objectively. There is no observer. Instead of saying that "I am meditating on the sound in my brain", or "the sound outside my brain", just aware of sound without conception that this is even a sound, as any perceptions that “the sound is heard by me”, “inside my brain” or “outside my brain”, are all concepts. Similarly, instead of saying that "I am observing the breathing in and out", just aware of breathing without putting any label. If labeling arises (as we have been conditioned to think that it is me who is breathing), just be aware of this thinking. If there is a labeling that "it is no-self that is breathing", also just be aware of that too. Both are mind-produced concepts. So simply aware of them. That is all. Stand back from labeling, and simply stay with awareness without prejudice. This is a non-dual type of meditation.

In the opening chapter "Intuitive Awareness", this is quoted from Maharahulovada Sutta 62.17, Majjhima Nikaya:

"Just as space is not
established anywhere,
so too,
develop meditation
that is like space,
for when you
develop meditation
that is like space,
arisen agreeable
and
disagreeable contacts
will not invade
your mind"

Saturday, March 1, 2008

Forest Tradition books...

Something I posted in a Buddhist forum...

The good thing about books by ajahns in the Thai Forest Tradition, for example, The Sound of Silence, is that you can pick them up, open any pages, and start reading. You don't even have to start from the beginning of a chapter. Most of the books are from talks given during meditation retreats to lay practitioners and in some cases to only bhikkhus during morning or evening meditation sessions.

If you compare these books to books that are scripture-based, you may be disappointed because they may seem so shallow. But are they? Many teachings are different ways of telling us how to meditate; to encourage us to practice, practice and practice and never stop practice; to guide us to watch the arising and falling of bodily pains or the popping up of thoughts, and see the nature of these feelings and thoughts as what they really are. Perhaps that is all there is to it, see for ourselves if the Buddha's teaching that all conditioned things have the nature of anicca, dukkha, anatta ...or not. That is the way to realize for oneself if the teachings are true or not true. Once in a while ajahns would guide us back to mindfulness, to be mindful of the experience of whatever arise and cease, to be with the present moment - as our minds tend to wander around, going into the past or the future.

In my recollection, teachings and books by the Thai Forest Tradition ajahns are mostly introductions in meditation sessions, not dhamma discussions. So the aim is to lead the readers or listeners to calm their minds and become more concentrated, for the minds to be relaxed and not tense, so that they can go on to meditate easily. If someone prefers to read scripture-based books, then they may not find what they are used to in these books by Thai Forest Tradition ajahns.

Are these books for you or not? That depends on how one practices. I myself prefer to start my meditation session by listening to talks by ajahns (MP3). If I read a book, say The Sound of Silence for example, I may not even finish the chapter, and start a meditation session when my mind has become a bit more quiet. It's "a" way to practice, to see for ourselves, without pre-conception, of how things really are; to let go and not to hang on.

What is this for, Thaksin?


I know, not really Buddhism. But a PR like this is not good in my opinion. According to a newspaper, Thaksin has hired international level PR firm to advice him over the past year. This is probably their job too.

Feeling better already !@#

Well, this look at the anicca (impermanent) aspect of samsara. A few hours ago I was feeling guilty of naming this blog forest dharma / forest dhamma (which should tell visitors that it is a blog about the Thai Forest Tradition of Theravada Buddhism) because I am only a lay practitioner.

Now I feel much better! Reason? I simply delete all the advertisement links provided by Google (adsense), though I maintain them on my non-Buddhist blogs. There is only one aspect that I would benefit, apart from doing some good things IMO by providing some useful resources (links to websites on Buddhism) and provide some pieces of teachings that I think useful and do not violate copyright, (hopefully not, anyway), the book recommendation part does give me something like 5-7% (never get any anyway, but they are great books).

Now I can go on with my daily life with [probably] less guilt than before. I do sincerely hope that this blog, in one way or another, do help people getting nearing to realize the four Noble Truths (including myself, of course :-)) !

Just one final point. For anyone who has strong feelings against Buddhism or the Thai Forest Tradition, please keep an open mind. Buddhist teachers in the Thai Forest Tradition speak from their hearts, from their own experiences. That's all.

Uneasy feelings !@#?

Till today I still feel a bit strange naming this blog "forest dharma". Even though I have been practicing in the Thai Forest Tradition for about 20 years, I am not an authority in the tradition. I am simply a lay Buddhist who practice according to the teachings of Ajahns in the Thai Forest Tradition.

Anyway, over the past years, I have also witness that some changes in the way some younger Ajahns in the Thai Forest Tradition teach. I won't go into detail, but I hope that the spirit of teaching and practice of Ajahn Mun and Ajahn Chah will continue to be at the hearts of those who teach and learn Buddhism in the Thai Forest Tradition.

Tuesday, February 26, 2008

Another email from the same person...this came first actually

Here we go...

----------------------

Dear [me :)]

According to the psychic experts, we are born with a psychic ability to a
certain extent and we can also evolve to higher vibration levels which can
bring great benefits to us physically and mentally.

At the up coming Vipassana Meditation Workshop in Bangkok on February 23 -
24, Marina Lobova, a Russian Psychic and meditation master, will be guiding
us on simple psychic training techniques which combined with her experience
of Life Sciences Nanotechnology will help us to stay healthy and vibrant.

This is the opportunity not to be missed indeed. Hope you can join us.

All the best,
-------------

THE END

An email....!@#?


I received this email a few days ago from a meditation teacher (who make money teaching meditation to corporate customers). I think it's a bit strange !@#?...
------------------------

Please note an additional topic of the talks at this weekend workshop by
Marina Lobova, a Russian Psychic/Meditation master as follows:

Since 1999, she has been working with an elderly Buddhist monk/meditation
master, Luang Por Charoen, who has been taking care of approximately 5,000
AIDS patients from all over the world each year at his temple in Saraburi.

The monk has also devoted 40 years to the study of the sacred and encrypted
signs of natural sources. He communicates and writes the sounds of nature
in numerical form. He has said “The Earth talks to you through the language
of Her Musical vibrations. Open your heart and soul. Listen to it”

In the year 2000, the monk’s work “Earth’s Message” was decoded from a
numerical format into wonderful melodies by a group of scientists and
musicians as follows:

Prof. G.I. Shipov – International Institute of the Theoretical and
Applied Physics, Moscow, Russia
Dr. O.I. Kaekina – Neurologist/Researcher, Moscow, Russia
Prof. N.A. Naumov – Institute of Space Research, Moscow, Russia
Prof. A.B. Burlakov – Moscow State University – Genetic Department
Prof. V.L Voeikov – Moscow State University – Biological Department
M. Donnya – the arranger, Graduate of Tchaikovsky Conservatorie,
Mosow, Russia
Prof. Dr. Narong Nimsakul – President of World Laser Surgery
Association. Institute of Modern Medicine, Bangkok, Thailand

The healing effects of “Earth’s Message” will open your heart and soul and
expand your consciousness.

Our body is a great symphony of the orchestral manifestation of the subtle
vibrations of many organs, glands, psychic centers, clusters, cells and
smaller units. The subtle memories have a longer life span. Each state of
catharsis may be remembered throughout your conscious life.

The monk’s original manuscript will be displayed at the workshop. Come and
listen to a master piece of work and experience the total bliss yourself.

Monday, February 25, 2008

Somdet Toh


From AccessToInsight.Org by Ajahn Thanissaro

Somdet Toh — his formal title was Somdet Budhacariya (Toh Brahmaransi) — was probably the most famous and widely loved monk in nineteenth century Thailand. A skilled meditator closely associated with the royal family, he was famous for many reasons, but his wide popularity rests on two things: Despite his rank, he was easily approachable to people on all levels of society; and he made amulets that — because of his meditative prowess — were reputed to be very powerful. He was also famous for his wisdom and wit. Since his death, in 1872, a cult has grown up around his memory, with many mediums throughout Thailand claiming to channel his spirit.

At the same time, many legends have grown up around his name. Here are a few of my favorites. I can't vouch for their accuracy, but they all carry a good lesson, which is why they merit passing on.

Somdet Toh was an illegitimate son of a nobleman who eventually became King Rama II. The story goes that one day in 1787 or 1788, when the nobleman was in northern Thailand cleaning up after the Burmese invasion, he happened to get separated from his troops. As he rode along on his horse, he came across a house with a young woman about sixteen years old standing in front. Thirsty, he asked her for some water. She went to the well, got a bowl of water — in Thailand in the old days, they would drink water out of a bowl, rather than out of a glass — and crushed a lotus flower over the bowl, sprinkling the stamens all over the surface of the water. Then she handed the bowl to him as he was sitting on his horse. He took one long look at the stamens on top of the water and then had to drink the water very carefully so as not to swallow them. As he handed the bowl back to her, he asked her, "Was that a trick?"

"No," she said. "I saw that you were so thirsty that you might gulp the water down and end up choking on it. So I figured this would be a good way to make sure that you drank slowly."

Well. He asked her, "Are your parents around?" So she fetched her parents. They didn't know who he was, but he was obviously a nobleman, so when he told them, "I'd like to have your daughter," they gave their consent. So she joined the king in the army camp, but as the campaign was ending he said to her, "I'm afraid I can't take you down to the palace with me, but in case you do have a child by me, here's my belt. Give the child my belt and I'll know that it's my child. I'll take care of him or her in the future." So he left her and went down to Bangkok.

Her whole family soon followed down to Bangkok when they discovered that she actually was pregnant. They moved onto a floating house moored on the bank of the Chao Phraya River in front of a monastery, Wat In. She gave birth to a son and named him Toh, which means "large." When he was old enough, he was ordained as a novice. A few years later, when the nobleman had become King Rama II, the family took Novice Toh to Wat Nibbanaram — currently Wat Mahathaad, a temple right across the road from the Grand Palace — and showed the belt to the abbot. The abbot took the belt to the king and the king said, "Yes, that's my son." So he later sponsored Novice Toh's ordination as a monk.

When Prince Mongkut — later Rama IV — was ordained as a monk, Phra Toh was his "older brother monk," the one who gave him his initial training in Dhamma and Vinaya. Soon after Prince Mongkut's ordination, his father died, and although by birth Prince Mongkut was next in line for the throne, the Privy Council chose one of his half-brothers to reign as Rama III instead. When this happened, Phra Toh decided it would be wise to leave Bangkok, so he went into the forest. Prince Mongkut stayed on as a monk for 28 years, until Rama III passed away. He was then offered the throne, so he disrobed and was crowned King Rama IV.

Soon after his coronation he sent out word to fetch Phra Toh back to Bangkok. Officials went into the forest, dragging back any monk they could find, and asking, "Is this the monk?" "No." "Is this the monk?" "No." Finally word got to Phra Toh, and he came out voluntarily. The king gave him the title of Somdet — which, next to the Supreme Patriarch, is the highest title a monk can hold — and put him in charge of Wat Rakhang, the monastery across the river from the palace.

Rama IV is remembered as a wise and humane king. Somdet Toh's own epithet for him — in a brief poem he wrote summarizing the history and prophesizing the future of the Chakri (Bangkok) dynasty — was that he maintained or embodied the Dhamma. And Rama IV's desire to have Somdet Toh near the palace is an indication of his wisdom. He knew that, as king, he would have trouble finding people fearless and selfless enough to tell him frankly when he was wrong, and so he wanted his former teacher nearby to perform this function.

But even as the king's former teacher, Somdet Toh had to exercise tact and skill in criticizing the king.

One story tells that one day early in his reign, the king — and remember, he had been a monk for twenty-eight years — was sitting out on the boat landing in front of the palace drinking with his courtiers. So Somdet Toh came paddling across the river in a small boat. The king, displeased, said to him, "Here I've made you a Somdet. Don't you have any respect for your title? How can you paddle your own boat?" The Somdet replied, "When the king of the country is drinking in public, Somdets can paddle their own boats." Turning around, he paddled back to Wat Rakhang. That was the last time the king drank in public.

Another time, Rama IV felt that since Thailand had been laid waste by the Burmese, many ancient Thai customs had disappeared, so new customs should be developed to replace them. So he decided, "Wouldn't it be nice if we had a boat parade at the end of the rains retreat? Every monastery in Bangkok will be responsible for decorating a boat, and we'll have a contest to reward the best-looking boat." So the royal decree went out that every monastery in Bangkok had to decorate a boat for the parade.

When the day for the parade came, a long line of beautifully decorated boats floated past the royal reviewing stand — except for one, a little canoe carrying a monkey tied to a leash with a sign on its back. The king's immediate reaction was anger: "Somebody's making fun of me." He had his officials check the roster to see which monastery was responsible for the boat, and it was Wat Rakhang, Somdet Toh's monastery.

So they took the sign off the monkey to see what it said. It said, "Willing to lose face in order to save cloth," which rhymed in Thai, but didn't make any more sense in Thai than it does in English. A few days later, the king invited Somdet Toh into the palace for a meal and a Dhamma talk, after which he asked him, "Suppose someone sponsored a boat with a sign like this on the back of a monkey. What do you think it might mean?" And the Somdet said, "Well, it might mean that monks don't have any resources of their own to decorate boats and it's certainly not appropriate for them to ask for donations from laypeople to decorate boats, so the only course left open to them would to have been to put their robes in the pawn shop. So they were willing to lose face in order to save their robes." That was the last time the parade was ever held.

Another story concerns a funeral in the royal palace. Funerals in the palace could go on for a hundred days before the cremation. Every night they'd invite four monks to chant. The famous, high-ranking monks would chant toward the beginning of the hundred days, and by the end of the period they were getting down into the ranks of the junior monks. One night toward the end of this particular funeral they invited four young monks who had never seen the king before in their lives. And this was back in the days when if the king said, "Off with your head!" it was off with your head. So they were nervous about their performance. After all, the king had been a monk for 28 years. He would know if they made any mistakes in their chanting.

Finally the king entered the room, followed by his entourage. Now, Rama IV had a rather stern and fearsome appearance, and as soon as the monks took one look at him they went running behind a curtain. This infuriated the king. "What is this? Am I a monster? An ogre? What is this? Disrobe them immediately!" So a royal decree was written up and sent over the river for Somdet Toh to disrobe the monks. He happened to be sitting at a writing table, next to a small altar where incense was burning. Taking one look at the royal decree, he placed it over a stick of incense, burned three holes in it, and sent it back across the river to the palace. The king, of course, had studied Buddhist doctrine; he knew what the three fires were: the fire of passion, the fire of anger, and the fire of delusion. The Somdet's message was, "Put them out." So the monks didn't have to disrobe. That's how you criticize a king.

Once, however, Somdet Toh didn't get away with criticizing the king. There is a tradition recorded in the Apadanas that the Buddha's clan, the Sakyan clan, started from a time when the sons and daughters of a particular king had to leave their country. They took up residence in Kapilavastu, the area that eventually became the Buddha's home. After building their city and settling in, they looked around the area for spouses but couldn't find anyone who was high-born enough for them to marry. So the brothers ended up marrying their own sisters. That's the tradition recorded in the Apadanas to explain the name of the Sakyan — "One's Own" — clan.

One day Somdet Toh was giving a talk on this topic in the royal palace, and after discussing this point he continued, "Ever since then it's become a custom among royal families. Uncles go running after their nieces, cousins go running after their cousins..." Now, Rama IV's major queen was his niece, so again he was furious. "You cannot stay in this country!" he said. So Somdet Toh was banished from Thailand. Now, in Thailand the civil law does not extend into the sima, the territory immediately around ordination halls. For instance, if a thief goes running into a sima, the police have to get the abbot's permission before they can go into the sima after him. So the Somdet returned to Wat Rakhang and moved into the ordination hall. For about three months he didn't set foot outside the sima.

Meanwhile, the king had forgotten all about the banishment order, and one day he said, "We haven't had Somdet Toh over for a talk in a long time. Let's invite him over." So the invitation went across the river to the monastery, but word came back, saying "I cannot set foot in this country, remember?" "Oh," the king said, "I forgot." And he lifted the banishment order.

So it wasn't an easy thing to criticize kings in those days. Even if you were his personal teacher, you had to be careful.

Of course, not all of Somdet Toh's comments about the king were critical. After all, the respect he felt for the king was what had inspired him to leave the forest to be of help in the first place.

One of the most famous stories about their relationship concerns a Dhamma talk Somdet Toh gave in the palace. Palace Dhamma talks were highly ritualized affairs. The talk was expected to be long and literary, preceded with and followed by many elaborate chants and other formalities. Once Rama IV invited Somdet to present such a talk and had prepared an especially large pile of offerings to be presented to the Somdet after the talk — a sign that he was looking forward to an especially long and learned disquisition, to test the Somdet's knowledge of the Dhamma. After the beginning formalities, however, Somdet Toh said only one sentence: "The king already knows everything there is to know." Then he chanted the ritual passages to conclude the talk and returned to his seat on the dais, quiet and composed. Immensely pleased, the king presented him with the offerings, commenting that that was the best Dhamma talk he had ever heard. (Ajaan Lee tells the story that later another monk tried the same trick, but with different results: The king was so offended that he had the monk stripped of his ecclesiastical titles.)

At another, similar event at the palace, Somdet Toh began the closing blessing with the standard chant:

Yatha varivaha pura
Paripurenti sagaram
Evameva ito dinnam
Petanam upakappati...

Just as rivers full of water fill the ocean full,
Even so does that given here benefit the hungry ghosts...

As he reached this point in the chant, the king in a very unusual breach of Buddhist etiquette called out, "Why are you giving all the merit to the hungry ghosts? What did they do to deserve it?"

Somdet Toh, without missing a beat, backed up to change the last line:

Evameva ito dinnam
Sabbam rañño upakappati...

Even so does everything given here benefit the king...

The king, who was fluent in Pali himself, was delighted with the Somdet's ability to think on his feet.

There are many other legends concerning Somdet Toh that don't deal with the king. Ajaan Fuang, my teacher, especially liked to tell a story of how Somdet Toh dealt with high-ranking lay people who would visit monasteries and waste the monks' time in idle conversation.

Somdet Toh ate his meals in a small open pavilion in front of his dwelling. If a stray dog wandered past, he would toss a little food to the dog — which meant that, over time, a whole pack of dogs would regularly come to sit around him at his meal time, waiting for food. This meant that if any high-ranking lay people wanted to come pay their respects and chat with him while he was eating, they'd have to bow down to the dogs as well. As a result, only the people who weren't too proud to bow down to the dogs got to talk to him during his mealtime.

Another story concerns a wealthy layman who wanted to invite Somdet Toh to his house for a meal and a Dhamma talk. Events like this would often be fairly public, with the donor inviting many friends and relatives to participate in the meal offering and to hear the talk. So the layman sent his servant to convey the invitation to Somdet Toh, saying that he wanted Somdet Toh to give a talk on a lofty topic, the four noble truths. Now, it so happened that the servant wasn't familiar with the term, "four noble truths" — which in Thai is ariyasat. To him, it sounded like naksat, or zodiac. So he told Somdet Toh that his master wanted to hear a Dhamma talk on the zodiac. The Somdet knew that this couldn't possibly be right, but the servant's mistake amused him, and he decided to use it as an opportunity to make a Dhamma point — and have a little fun at the same time.

When the day for the talk arrived, he went to the layman's house and, after the meal, got up on the sermon seat and began the talk by saying, "Today our esteemed host has invited me to deliver a Dhamma talk on the zodiac." He then proceeded to describe the twelve houses of the zodiac in a fair amount of detail. Meanwhile, the master was staring daggers at the servant. After finishing his description of the zodiac, the Somdet then added, "But, regardless of what house of the zodiac people are born into, they are all subject to suffering." With that, he switched to the four noble truths — and probably saved the servant's job.

Another time some Christian missionaries came to visit the Somdet. One of the missionary strategies in those days was to show off their knowledge of science so as to dazzle the heathens, win their respect, and possibly win converts. With Somdet Toh so closely associated with the king, perhaps they thought that if they could convert him, the king might be converted as well. So they discussed various scientific topics with him, and finally touched on the fact that they had proof that the world was round. The Somdet, instead of being surprised, said, "I know. In fact, I can show you where the center of the world is." This surprised the missionaries, so they asked him to show them. He got up, took his staff, went out in front of his hut, and planted the staff firmly on the ground, saying, "Right here."

"But how could that be?" they asked him.

He answered, "If the world is round, it's a sphere, right? And any point on the surface of the sphere is as central as any other point on the surface."

After that, the missionaries left him alone.

On the final day of the Rains retreat in 1868, Rama IV passed away. His eldest son, Prince Chulalongkorn, who was now Rama V, was only fifteen years old. As a result, the running of the government was placed in the hands of a Regent — Chao Phraya Sri Suriyawong (Chuang Bunnag) — who was to hold this office until Rama V reached maturity. (In a later reminiscence, Rama V stated that during this period he lived in constant fear of being assassinated.) Shortly after the Regency was instituted, Somdet Toh — who was now 80 — appeared at the Regent's palace in the middle of a sunny day, carrying a lit torch that he held aloft with one hand, and a long, narrow palm-leaf Dhamma text that he carried at a backward-sloping angle under his other arm. After he had walked through the palace halls in this way, word reached the Regent. The Regent respectfully approached Somdet Toh and asked him to take a seat, after which he assured him that he understood the Somdet's message: He would not allow his deliberations to be overcome with the darkness of defilement, and he would hold to the Dhamma as a rudder while steering the ship of state.

Four years later Somdet Toh passed away.

Sunday, February 24, 2008

A History of Indian Buddhism - book



I just bought this book today from a Buddhist bookstore in Hong Kong. Hope it's good!

The author is Hirakawa Akira, translated by Paul Groner, first published in India in 1993, then reprinted again in 1998 and 2007.

Old temple in Lampang, North of Thailand


Ruins in Sukhothai

'til your last breath

...As Jetsun Milarepa said, "Do not be impatient to attain enlightenment, but practice until your last breath."...

(Dilgo Khyentse & Padampa Sangye, page 136)

( 57 ) from "The Hundred Verses of Advice"

I really like this (57) from "The Hundred Verses of Advice" quoted below the dotted line, and I don't see this to be different from "anidassana vinnana", which I believe is described by:

"There is monks a domain where there is no earth, no water, no fire, no wind, no sphere of infinite space, no sphere of nothingness, no sphere of neither awareness nor non-awareness; there is not this world, there is not another world, there is no sun or moon. I do not call this coming or going, nor standing nor dying, nor being reborn; it is without support, without occurrence, without object. Just this is the end of suffering."

-----------------------------------------------------------------

(57)

The unborn absolute body is like the very heart of the sun -
People of Tingri, there is no waxing or waning of its radiant clarity.


The Dharmakaya, the absolute dimension, the ultimate nature of everything, is emptiness. But it is not mere nothingness. It has a cognitive, radiant clarity aspect that knows all phenomena and manifests spontaneously. The dharmakaya is not something produced by causes and conditions; it is the primodially present nature of the mind.

The recognition of this primordial nature is like the sun of wisdom rising and piecing through the night of ignorance. The darkness is dissipated instantly; the shadows cannot remain. The clarity of the dharmakaya does not wax and wane like the moon, but is like the unchangeable brilliance that reigns at the center of the sun.

(Dilgo Khyentse & Padampa Sangye, The Hundred Verses of Advice, page 106)

Saturday, February 23, 2008

Long forgotten memories

Sometime ago (actually, decades ago), I sat meditate and had a strange experience. It was nothing magic, just an experience that I never had since I was about 3-5 years old. When I was young and had fever, I used to have "nightmare" of floating in black space, and I would cry. That was a long forgotten memory.

In that meditation session, I experienced the same thing again. Only that I was in my 20s then, and did not see it as a "nightmare". Strange, though. The experience came in meditation, not in dream, but it was exactly the same. In a way, I still wonder how many long-forgotten funny memories that may creep up in meditation again...

Knowledge and understanding of the "unconditioned"

As human and other living beings live in the world that is defined by space and time, we are unable to comprehend "the unconditioned" beyond samsara that have no relevance to both space and time - where both space and time have no meaning.

No wonder we keep on not understanding anything about this "unconditioned". The problem with our mode of learning is that we try to understand things, including something that is beyond our comprehension, our ability to understand. Direct experience is totally different kind of knowledge from mere understanding or mere conceptualization, and to know this "unconditioned" we need to directly experience it, not understanding it.

Even though in some schools of Buddhism masters are said to be able to "introduce" their students to this "unconditioned", in my opinion they can not really give the students the true knowledge of this "unconditioned". Only direct knowledge can give practitioners true knowledge of the "unconditioned" beyond samsara, beyond space and time.

Bardo - from The Hundred Verses of Advice

I don't know much about Tibetan Buddhism, so this is a little note on Bardo:

"...Your consciousness will leave your body and wander in the bardo. There, with an illusory mental body, you will find yourself alone in the shadows, lost and desperate, not knowing what to do, not knowing where to go. The hallucinations that torment most beings at that time are terrifying beyond description. Although they are no more than projections of the mind, they nevertheless have a powerful reality at the time...."

"...The only possible source of comfort will be ...the Dharma...."

(Dilgo Khyentse & Padampa Sangye, The Hundred Verses of Advice", page 60 - 61)

--------------------------
Well, Bardo is not taught in Theravada Buddhism, nor in the Thai Forest Tradition ajahns. But it does sound like wandering spirits immediately after death. Perhaps everybody will experience this state between one life and the next, perhaps not. Perhaps beings pass on to the next life directly. I think it all depends on kamma.

Friday, February 22, 2008

Concepts in Mahayana considered heterodoxy according to the Theravadins

From E-Sangha forum's thread

Bits by Venerable Dhammanando

"...But seriously, the Kathāvatthu of the Abhidhamma Piṭaka records the Third Council debates on a great many views, though it doesn't say who held which view (that is left to the Kathāvatthu commentary, composed centuries later). However, a number of the views rejected by the Theravāda seem to exhibit proto-Mahāyānic tendencies. These tendencies are towards docetism, merit transference, the Mahāyānist conception of prajñāpāramitā, downgrading of the arahant and various miscellaneous matters.

Below I list the main ones:


1. Parihāni micchādiṭṭhi — that an arahant may fall away from arahantship.
2. Parūpahāra micchādiṭṭhi — that an arahant may have a seminal emission while sleeping.
3. Aññāṇa micchādiṭṭhi — that an arahant lacks knowledge.
4. Kaṅkhā micchādiṭṭhi — that an arahant may have doubts.
5. Paravitāraṇa micchādiṭṭhi — that an arahant is excelled by others.
6. Vohāra micchādiṭṭhi — that the Buddha’s everday speech was supramundane.
7. Ariyanti micchādiṭṭhi — that all ten Tathāgata Powers are ariyan.
8. Niyāmokkanti micchādiṭṭhi — that a Bodhisatta becomes an ariyan before his final life.
9. Anāgatañāṇa micchādiṭṭhi — that there is knowledge of the future.
10. Paṭuppanna micchādiṭṭhi — that all present events may be simultaneously known.
11. Paribhogamayapuñña micchādiṭṭhi — that merit increases with utility.
12. Itodinna micchādiṭṭhi — that what is given here sustains elsewhere.
13. Pathavī kammavipākoti micchādiṭṭhi — that the earth is kamma-produced.
14. Chagati micchādiṭṭhi — that there are six realms.
15. Antarābhava micchādiṭṭhi — that there is an intermediate state.
16. Amatārammaṇa micchādiṭṭhi — that the Deathless may be an object of attachment for an arahant.
17. Iddhibala micchādiṭṭhi — that through the power of psychic mastery one may live for an aeon.
18. Kamma micchādiṭṭhi — that all kamma gives rise to vipāka.
19. Saddo vipākoti micchādiṭṭhi — that sound is the result of kamma.
20. Saḷāyatana micchādiṭṭhi — that the six sense-bases are the result of kamma.
21. Jīvitā voropana micchādiṭṭhi — that one of right view may take life.
22. Na vattabbaṃ saṅgho dakkhiṇaṃ paṭiggaṇhāti micchādiṭṭhi — that it should not be said that the sangha accepts gifts.
23. Na vattabbaṃ saṅgho dakkhiṇaṃ visodhetīti micchādiṭṭhi — that it should not be said that the sangha purifies gifts.
24. Na vattabbaṃ saṅgho bhuñjatīti micchādiṭṭhi — that it should not be said that the sangha eats.
25. Na vattabbaṃ saṅghassadinnaṃ mahapphalanti micchādiṭṭhi — that it should not be said that a gift to the sangha brings great reward.
26. Na vattabbaṃ buddhassadinnaṃ mahapphalanti micchādiṭṭhi — that it should not be said that anything given to the Buddha brings great reward.
27. Aparinipphanna micchādiṭṭhi — that the aggregates, elements etc. are all undetermined.
28. Manussaloka micchādiṭṭhi — that it is wrong to say that the Buddha lived in the world of men.
29. Dhammadesanā micchādiṭṭhi — that it is wrong to say that the Buddha taught the Dhamma.
30. Tathatā micchādiṭṭhi — that there is a ‘thusness’ that is the fundamental character of all things.
31. Nirayapāla micchādiṭṭhi — that there are no guards in the hell realm.
32. Sāsana micchādiṭṭhi — that the Buddha’s Dispensation may be improved.
33. Saṃyojana micchādiṭṭhi — that after arahantship some fetters may remain.
34. Buddha micchādiṭṭhi — that Buddhas differ from one another in grades.
35. Sabbadisā micchādiṭṭhi — that the Buddhas persist in all directions.
36. Parinibbāna micchādiṭṭhi — that an arahant’s final Nibbāna may be attained without all fetters having been cast off.
37. Issariyakāma micchādiṭṭhi — that Bodhisattas may be voluntarily reborn in hell or other evil states.

........"

Bits about Kathavatthu and its origin from wiki

----------------------------------------


Well, well...

Kind of amusing, I think. In my opinion, the differences between Mahayana and Theravada will be there for a long time for us to debate on. There will be those who wish to maintain that one is right and the other completely wrong, while at the same time there will be those in the other end of the spectrum who wish to reconcile the two. But perhaps Mahayana and Theravada beliefs can never be reconciled by referring to scriptures. New practitioners may simply have to choose which are the most appropriate and "sound right the most" for them to choose to follow (as they are not yet enlightened).

Another thoughts, perhaps for those enlightened ones, the focus on differences may not be worth putting one's effort on too much as it may not lead one to "the end of dukkha" and "the realization of the 4NT" from Theravada's point of view, or to what Mahayana practitioners call "the realization of emptiness" (!?) - probably the same anyway, and is the goal of Buddhism, all traditions, all schools. May be the realized masters of any schools don't bother. "The Truth" as directly realized by Buddhist masters are the same.

Why do Buddhist masters of different traditions and schools sometime talk about the same "Truth" even though they live far apart or even in different times? I think it takes real practice to realize the Truth, and not just scripture debates. By realizing for oneself, the quarrels between traditions become nonsense.



The customs of the Noble Onces


By Ajahn Thanissaro on Forest Tradition Ajahn from AcccessToInsight.org


Throughout its history, Buddhism has worked as a civilizing force. Its teachings on karma, for instance — the principle that all intentional actions have consequences — have taught morality and compassion to many societies. But on a deeper level, Buddhism has always straddled the line between civilization and wilderness. The Buddha himself gained Awakening in a forest, gave his first sermon in a forest, and passed away in a forest. The qualities of mind he needed in order to survive physically and mentally as he went, unarmed, into the wilds, were key to his discovery of the Dhamma. They included resilience, resolve, and alertness; self-honesty and circumspection; steadfastness in the face of loneliness; courage and ingenuity in the face of external dangers; compassion and respect for the other inhabitants of the forest. These qualities formed the "home culture" of the Dhamma.

Periodically, as Buddhism spread and adapted to different societies, some practitioners felt that the original message of the Dhamma had become diluted. So they returned to the wilderness in order to revive its home culture. Many wilderness traditions are still alive today, especially in the Theravada countries of Sri Lanka and Southeast Asia. There, mendicant ascetic monks continue to wander through the remaining rainforests, in search of Awakening in the same environment where the Buddha found Awakening himself. Among these wilderness traditions, the one that has attracted the largest number of Western students, and is beginning to take root in the West, is the Kammatthana (Meditation) Forest tradition of Thailand.

The Kammatthana tradition was founded by Ajaan Mun Bhuridatto in the early decades of this century. Ajaan Mun's mode of practice was solitary and strict. He followed theVinaya (monastic discipline) faithfully, and also observed many of what are known as the thirteen classic dhutanga (ascetic) practices, such as living off almsfood, wearing robes made of cast-off rags, dwelling in the forest, eating only one meal a day. Searching out secluded places in the wilds of Thailand and Laos, he avoided the responsibilities of settled monastic life and spent long hours of the day and night in meditation. In spite of his reclusive nature, he attracted a large following of students willing to put up with the hardships of forest life in order to study with him.

He also had his detractors, who accused him of not following traditional Thai Buddhist customs. He usually responded by saying that he wasn't interested in bending to the customs of any particular society — as they were, by definition, the customs of people with greed, anger, and delusion in their minds. He was more interested in finding and following the Dhamma's home culture, or what he called the customs of the noble ones: the practices that had enabled the Buddha and his disciples to achieve Awakening in the first place. This phrase — the customs of the noble ones — comes from an incident in the Buddha's life: not long after his Awakening, he returned to his home town in order to teach the Dhamma to the family he had left six years earlier. After spending the night in a forest, he went for alms in town at daybreak. His father the king learned of this and immediately went to upbraid him. "This is shameful," the king said. "No one in the lineage of our family has ever gone begging. It's against our family customs."

"Your majesty," the Buddha replied, "I now belong, not to the lineage of my family, but to the lineage of the noble ones. Theirs are the customs I follow."

Ajaan Mun devoted many years of his life to tracking those customs down. Born in 1870, the son of rice farmers in the northeastern province of Ubon, he was ordained as a monk in the provincial capital in 1892. At the time of his ordination, there were two broad types of Buddhism available in Thailand. The first can be called Customary Buddhism — the mores and rites handed down over the centuries from teacher to teacher with little, if any, reference to the Pali canon. For the most part, these customs taught monks to live a sedentary life in the village monastery, serving the local villagers as doctors or fortune tellers. Monastic discipline tended to be loose. Occasionally, monks would go on a pilgrimage they called "dhutanga" which bore little resemblance to the classic dhutanga practices. Instead, it was more an undisciplined escape valve for the pressures of sedentary life. Moreover, monks and lay people practiced forms of meditation that deviated from the path of tranquillity and insight outlined in the Pali canon. Their practices, called vichaa aakhom, or incantation knowledge, involved initiations and invocations used for shamanistic purposes, such as protective charms and magical powers. They rarely mentioned nirvana except as an entity to be invoked for shamanic rites.

The second type of Buddhism available at the time was Reform Buddhism, based on the Pali canon and begun in the 1820's by Prince Mongkut, who later became King Rama IV (and still later was portrayed in the musical The King and I). Prince Mongkut was ordained as a monk for twenty-seven years before ascending the throne. After studying the canon during his early years as a monk, he grew discouraged by the level of practice he saw around him in Thai monasteries. So he reordained among the Mons — an ethnic group that straddled the Thai-Burmese border and occupied a few villages across the river from Bangkok — and studied Vinaya and the classic dhutanga practices under the guidance of a Mon teacher. Later, his brother, King Rama III, complained that it was disgraceful for member of the royal family to join an ethnic minority, and so built a monastery for the Prince-Monk on the Bangkok side of the river. There, Mongkut attracted a small but strong following of like-minded monks and lay supporters, and in this way the Dhammayut (lit., In Accordance with the Dhamma) movement was born.

In its early years, the Dhammayut movement was an informal grouping devoted to Pali studies, focusing on Vinaya, the classic dhutanga practices, a rationalist interpretation of the Dhamma, and the revival of meditation techniques taught in the Pali canon, such as recollection of the Buddha and mindfulness of the body. None of the movement's members, however, could prove that the teachings of the Pali canon actually led to enlightenment. Mongkut himself was convinced that the path to nirvana was no longer open, but he felt that a great deal of merit could be made by reviving at least the outward forms of the earliest Buddhist traditions. Formally taking a bodhisattva vow, he dedicated the merit of his efforts to future Buddhahood. Many of his students also took vows, hoping to become disciples of that future Buddha.

Upon disrobing and ascending the throne after his brother's death in 1851, Rama IV was in a position to impose his reforms on the rest of the Thai Sangha, but chose not to. Instead, he quietly sponsored the building of new Dhammayut centers in the capital and the provinces, which was how — by the time of Ajaan Mun — there came to be a handful of Dhammayut monasteries in Ubon.

Ajaan Mun felt that Customary Buddhism had little to offer and so he joined the Dhammayut order, taking a student of Prince Mongkut as his preceptor. Unlike many who joined the order at the time, he wasn't interested in the social advancement that would come with academic study and ecclesiastical appointments. Instead, his life on the farm had impressed on him the sufferings inherent in the cycle of life and death, and his single aim was to find a way out of the cycle. As a result, he soon left the scholarly environment of his preceptor's temple and went to live with a teacher named Ajaan Sao Kantasilo (1861-1941) in a small meditation monastery on the outskirts of town.

Ajaan Sao was unusual in the Dhammayut order in that he had no scholarly interests but was devoted to the practice of meditation. He trained Ajaan Mun in strict discipline and canonical meditation practices, set in the context of the dangers and solitude of the wilderness. He could not guarantee that this practice would lead to the noble attainments, but he believed that it headed in the right direction.

After wandering for several years with Ajaan Sao, Ajaan Mun set off on his own in search of a teacher who could show him for sure the way to the noble attainments. His search took nealry two decades and involved countless hardships as he trekked through the jungles of Laos, central Thailand, and Burma, but he never found the teacher he sought. Gradually he realized that he would have to follow the Buddha's example and take the wilderness itself as his teacher, not simply to conform to the ways of nature — for nature is samsara itself — but to break through to truths transcending them entirely. If he wanted to find the way beyond aging, illness, and death, he would have to learn the lessons of an environment where aging, illness, and death are thrown into sharp relief. At the same time, his encounters with other monks in the forest convinced him that learning the lessons of the wilderness involved more than just mastering the skills of physical survival. He would also have to develop the acuity not to be misled by dead-end sidetracks in his meditation. So, with a strong sense of the immensity of his task, he returned to a mountainous region in central Thailand and settled alone in a cave.

In the long course of his wilderness training, Ajaan Mun learned that — contrary to Reform and Customary beliefs — the path to nirvana was not closed. The true Dhamma was to be found not in old customs or texts but in the well-trained heart and mind. The texts were pointers for training, nothing more or less. The rules of the Vinaya, instead of simply being external customs, played an important role in physical and mental survival. As for the Dhamma texts, practice was not just a matter of confirming what they said. Reading and thinking about the texts could not give an adequate understanding of what they meant — and did not count as showing them true respect. True respect for the texts meant taking them as a challenge: putting their teachings seriously to the test to see if, in fact, they are true. In the course of testing the teachings, the mind would come to many unexpected realizations that were not contained in the texts. These in turn had to be put to the test as well, so that one learned gradually by trial and error to the point of an actual noble attainment. Only then, Ajaan Mun would say, did one understand the Dhamma.

This attitude toward the Dhamma parallels what ancient cultures called "warrior knowledge" — the knowledge that comes from developing skills in difficult situations — as opposed to the "scribe knowledge" that people sitting in relative security and ease can write down in words. Of course, warriors need to use words in their training, but they view a text as authoritative only if its teachings are borne out in practice. The Canon itself encourages this attitude when it quotes the Buddha as teaching his aunt, "As for the teachings of which you may know, 'These teachings lead to dispassion, not to passion; to being unfettered, not to being fettered; to divesting, not to accumulating; to modesty, not to self-aggrandizement; to contentment, not to discontent; to seclusion, not to entanglement; to aroused persistence, not to laziness; to being unburdensome, not to being burdensome': You may definitely hold, 'This is the Dhamma, this is the Vinaya, this is the Teacher's instruction.'"

Thus the ultimate authority in judging a teaching is not whether the teaching can be found in a text. It lies in each person's relentless honesty in putting the Dhamma to the test and carefully monitoring the results.

When Ajaan Mun had reached the point where he could guarantee that the path to the noble attainments was still open, he returned to the northeast to inform Ajaan Sao and then to continue wandering. Gradually he began to attract a grassroots following. People who met him were impressed by his demeanor and teachings, which were unlike those of any other monks they had known. They believed that he embodied the Dhamma and Vinaya in everything he did and said. As a teacher, he took a warrior's approach to training his students. Instead of simply imparting verbal knowledge, he put them into situations where they would have to develop the qualities of mind and character needed in surviving the battle with their own defilements. Instead of teaching a single meditation technique, he taught them a full panoply of skills — as one student said, "Everything from washing spittoons on up" — and then sent them into the wilds.

It was after Ajaan Mun's return to the northeast that a third type of Buddhism emanating from Bangkok — State Buddhism — began to impinge on his life. In an effort to present a united front in the face of imperialist threats from Britain and France, Rama V (1868-1910) wanted to move the country from a loose feudal system to a centralized nation-state. As part of his program, he and his brothers — one of whom was ordained as a monk — enacted religious reforms to prevent the encroachment of Christian missionaries. Having received their education from British tutors, they created a new monastic curriculum that subjected the Dhamma and Vinaya to Victorian notions of reason and utility. Their new version of the Vinaya, for instance, was a compromise between Customary and Reform Buddhism designed to counter Christian attacks that monks were unreliable and lazy. Monks were instructed to give up their wanderings, settle in established monasteries, and accept the new state curriculum. Because the Dhammayut monks were the best educated in Thailand at the time — and had the closest connections to the royal family — they were enlisted to do advance work for the government in outlying regions.

In 1928, a Dhammayut authority unsympathetic to meditation and forest wanderers took charge of religious affairs in the northeast. Trying to domesticate Ajaan Mun's following, he ordered them to establish monasteries and help propagate the government's program. Ajaan Mun and a handful of his students left for the north, where they were still free to roam. In the early 1930's, Ajaan Mun was appointed the abbot of an important monastery in the city of Chieng Mai, but fled the place before dawn of the following day. He returned to settle in the northeast only in the very last years of his life, after the local ecclesiastical authorities had grown more favorably disposed to his way of practice. He maintained many of his dhutanga practices up to his death in 1949.

It wasn't until the 1950's that the movement he founded gained acceptance in Bangkok, and only in the 1970's did it come into prominence on a nationwide level. This coincided with a widespread loss of confidence in state monks, many of whom were little more than bureaucrats in robes. As a result, Kammatthana monks came to represent, in the eyes of many monastics and lay people, a solid and reliable expression of the Dhamma in a world of fast and furious modernization.

Buddhist history has shown that wilderness traditions go through a very quick life cycle. As one loses its momentum, another often grows up in its place. But with the wholesale destruction of Thailand's forests in the last few decades, the Kammatthana tradition may be the last great forest tradition that Thailand will produce. Fortunately, we in the West have learned of it in time to gather lessons that will be help in cultivating the customs of the noble ones on Western soil and establishing authentic wilderness traditions of our own.

Perhaps the most important of those lessons concerns the role that the wilderness plays in testing and correcting trends that develop among Buddhists in cities and towns. The story of the Kammatthana tradition gives lie to the facile notion that Buddhism has survived simply by adapting to its host culture. The survival of Buddhism and the survival of the Dhamma are two different things. People like Ajaan Mun — willing to make whatever sacrifices are needed to discover and practice the Dhamma on its own terms — are the ones who have kept the Dhamma alive. Of course, people have always been free to engage in Buddhist traditions in whatever way they like, but those who have benefited most from that engagement are those who, instead of reshaping Buddhism to fit their preferences, reshape themselves to fit in with the customs and traditions of the noble ones. To find these customs isn't easy, given the bewildering variety of traditions that Buddhists have spawned over the centuries. To test them, each individual is thrown back on his or her own powers of relentless honesty, integrity, and discernment. There are no easy guarantees. And perhaps this fact in itself is a measure of the Dhamma's true worth. Only people of real integrity can truly comprehend it. As Ajaan Lee, one of Ajaan Mun's students, once said, "If a person isn't true to the Buddha's teachings, the Buddha's teachings won't be true to that person — and that person won't be able to know what the Buddha's true teachings are."