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.

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".

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.  

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.

Within This Body...

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

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).

http://www.mettanet.org/pali-utils/Pali-Proper-Names/baahiya.htm

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...

http://www.accesstoinsight.org/lib/authors/thanissaro/refuge.html

Liberation 

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

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.