07. Good Things Exist in Buddhism

Phra Nirōdharaṅsī Gambhirapaññāvisiṭṭha
Luang Pu Thate Desaraṅsī
Wat Hin Mak Peng, Si Chiang Mai District, Nong Khai Province

Preface

This book clearly states that good things exist only in Buddhism. Such good things do not exist at all in other religions. 'Good things' here refer to the ultimate truths, absolute reality, which have complete and verifiable causes and effects. There are four of them: 1) Suffering (Dukkha), 2) The origin of suffering (Samudaya), 3) The cessation of suffering (Nirodha), and 4) The path leading to the cessation of suffering (Magga). The Lord Buddha practiced and discovered these by himself, without being told or guided by anyone, and he found them exclusively within his own body and mind. Humans in this world had never practiced this before. He then propagated that knowledge to the people of the world so that they could know and see accordingly, right up to the present day.

Later on, some teachers, lacking inner Dhamma principles and not practicing themselves, simply memorized from texts. They teach incorrectly or correctly by chance, or they teach for the sake of material rewards or due to imposed rules and regulations. Such teachings do not yield complete benefit because they fail to inspire faith and confidence in the listeners to practice accordingly. Even if the listeners have the disposition to follow such teachings, when problems arise, they cannot get solutions from their teacher, as the teacher has no prior experience. This may lead disciples to wrong views, and sometimes even to mental derangement, as has often happened. Therefore, teachers should be cautious and restrained. Teaching the Buddhist religion, instead of being a blessing, can sometimes become a source of fault.

Most Thai people merely profess Buddhism without truly practicing it. Hence, the majority are only nominal Buddhists. Genuine members of the Buddhist community (Buddha-parisā) are extremely rare.

If a teacher has genuine faith and confidence in the virtues of the Triple Gem – believing in karma and the results of karma, that doing good yields good results of bodily and mental happiness, and that doing evil yields evil results of bodily and mental suffering – then... Every person born has karma, which is why they are born. Without karma, they wouldn't be born. Once born, they must rely on that karma as a means of livelihood, earning a living. If one doesn't earn a living, how can one live in this world? Therefore, since it's necessary to perform actions (karma), one should refrain from evil deeds and do only good deeds. Evil karma will gradually cease by not repeating it. One who clearly sees karma in this way will naturally abstain from those evil actions without needing external force. The unwholesome intention to violate those precepts will not arise. The Five Precepts, the Eight Precepts for laypeople, and the Ten Precepts and 227 Precepts for monks and novices will take deep root in the very foundation of Buddhism (which is the mind). Each person will have their own independent morality, maintaining precepts through their own faith. Buddhism will then be stable for a long time.

Most certainly, one who fears evil will abstain from those precepts. They will then contemplate matters of evil karma, the virtues and faults of the precepts until they see clearly. Their mind will then be perpetually joyful, clear, and pure. This is called wisdom arising with the Triple Gem and morality as its foundation.

Seeing the absence of the Triple Gem and morality within oneself as a great danger, one then firmly establishes oneself in having the Triple Gem and morality with a supremely joyful mind, seeing the danger of thoughts, perceptions, emotions, and mental fabrications which are insubstantial – they are thought and fabricated only to cease. This is called wisdom arising from concentration (samādhi).

Even knowing and seeing those defilements clearly as described, or knowing from the wisdom of those who have abandoned those defilements, one is still unable to escape true suffering; it only reduces defilements. In truth, one born into this world with sense bases (āyatana) and contact (phassa) will naturally have sense objects (ārammaṇa). Defilements, starting with sensual desire (kāmacchanda), must also exist. One who does not know and understand them as they truly are, and grasps them as 'me' or 'mine', will suffer distress for a long time. One who has been trained from the beginning – having confidence in the Triple Gem, believing in karma and its results, having stable morality, cultivating firm concentration, having wisdom skilled in various means, and freeing oneself from all sense objects – will clearly see the danger and suffering of grasping those sense objects, let go, make the mind neutral, and be aware that one's mind is neutral. This is called insight (vipassanā) arising from wisdom.

If teachers teach people to understand Buddhism according to this principle, then Thai people will truly become genuine Buddhists (Buddha-parisā) more and more. They will then abandon these wrong beliefs – such as believing in spirit mediums, magical amulets (takrut and phisamorn), sacred Buddha images, and the various amulets hung around their necks as seen today. Buddhism will prosper, and the Buddhist community in Thailand will become even more peaceful than it is now.

Phra Nirōdharaṅsī, Gambhirapaññācariya 18 September 2531 (1988)


Good Things Exist in Buddhism

"Good things exist in Buddhism." Precious good things, the wise can find, But only within this Buddhism itself.

People in former times did things with their hearts deeply feeling what they did, with genuine sincerity, unlike people in later times. People in later times, even if they follow the ancients, do so merely as tradition, not with true sincerity. No matter how much knowledge and ability they have to analyze and see things as they truly are, they still do not feel the truth of the ancients deeply.

The ancients, when they did anything, had to do it with body, speech, and mind, deeply feeling what they did with true heart. For example, people nowadays when paying respects to the Buddha, prostrating, or anything else – even if they pay respects three times or prostrate three times, most people just do it that way without any meaning. They don't know the purpose of paying respects three times or prostrating three times. Seeing their peers do it, they just do it that way. Even worse, sometimes they turn their faces to look at various things while talking to their friends. How can Buddhism prosper and reach the hearts of Buddhists like this?

Those who are monks and teachers, please come and help improve yourselves to be examples for others, and then teach those people to prostrate and pay respects correctly to the Buddha, the Dhamma, and the Sangha. Then Buddhism will reach people's hearts, and Buddhism will last long into the future. Don't let outsiders see Buddhism as something childish and without substance.

Furthermore, many Buddhists are deluded and superstitious, worshipping charms, magical items, takruts, mantras, yantra cloths, ghosts, and demons, understanding that these things can grant us safety from danger and bring various kinds of luck and fortune. These things all cause superstitious belief outside of Buddhism – believing those things are real and that they can grant one's desires. Yet some of those people still have faith and take refuge in Buddhism.

Getting three things, but worshipping only one

Buddhists all over the world, no matter their nationality or language, when performing ceremonies such as paying respects to the Buddha, must first prostrate three times before proceeding with the ceremony. Similarly for paying respects with speech, one must recite three times before proceeding with the ceremony.

Prostrating to the Triple Gem three times is truly appropriate because it is prostrating to three things. When the Buddha first arose in the world, there was prostration three times and a praise recited three times (or however many times, it wasn't specified clearly). The words "Namo tassa bhagavato arahato sammāsambuddhassa" – this entire praise was recited by four beings at the time of the Buddha's recent enlightenment, each reciting one part as follows:

"Namo" – recited by Asurindarāhu "Tassa" – recited by Māra, the Evil One "Bhagavato" – recited by Indra "Arahato sammāsambuddhassa" – recited by the Great Brahmā

When combined, this becomes a verse of homage to the Buddha, meaning: "I pay homage, venerate, and bow to the Buddha, the Blessed One, who is worthy and perfectly self-enlightened." There is only one Buddha, yet they prostrate three times and recite the homage three times. Later generations have continued this practice.

Even though paying respects and reciting homage may not be extremely important – these matters truly reside in the heart – it is nevertheless a ceremonial expression, a fine and beautiful culture of Buddhists. May the wise consider whether these matters originated from Buddhism and were taken by Brahmins, or from Brahmins and taken by Buddhism. Even worshipping ghosts and demons requires three prostrations; otherwise, the ghost will be displeased and not grant wishes effectively.

I, who have been born into this world, have been born well. I was born having acquired excellent, effective good things all three together: body, speech, and mind – which other beings, whether two-legged, four-legged, many-legged, or legless, born together with me, do not possess entirely, or if they do, not completely. These so-called good things have high efficacy, capable of accomplishing everything, whether visible to the eye or invisible. Even the ultimate treasures – human treasure, heavenly treasure, and the treasure of Nibbāna, which every born human desires – can all be successfully attained through these three things.

Since I possess these three excellent things as mentioned, I wish to use them to pay homage to the supreme thing, the Perfectly Self-Enlightened Buddha (who discovered the Four Noble Truths), who then taught them to us so that we could listen and practice, eventually knowing and seeing truly according to that teaching. Therefore, I pay homage and worship only that one Buddha in this world, and I take refuge in that Buddha with body, speech, and mind, while simultaneously recollecting the virtues of the Dhamma, well-taught by the Buddha, and the Noble Sangha, the disciples.

The three refuges, pure and radiant, exist in the world. Even though the Buddha has long passed into Nibbāna, the Three Gems still shine with virtue, not becoming tarnished. We who have obtained the priceless things (body, speech, mind) adorned for us by the results of our meritorious actions, now pay homage and bow down to these good things (the Buddha, the Dhamma, the Noble Sangha) with utmost respect, in every place, at all times.

The Triple Gem Arises in the World

The Triple Gem is another part that the Buddha bestowed upon the people of the world to pay homage to and hold in reverence. The excellent good things I have obtained are not in vain; I still use them to worship and venerate these three wondrous things (the Triple Gem). That is to say:

The Buddha, having perfectly fulfilled the Thirty Perfections (pāramīs), was born into this world in the Sakya royal family, with King Suddhodana as his father and Queen Sirimahāmāyā as his mother. He enjoyed sensual pleasures until the age of 29, with Princess Bimbā (Yasodharā) as his consort and Prince Rāhula as the witness of his sensual happiness. Due to the countless merits and perfections he had accumulated, his heart inclined towards weariness with sensual pleasures. He renounced his kingdom and went forth into homelessness.

He practiced severe asceticism for six years before attaining supreme enlightenment, becoming the one and only Sammāsambuddha in the world. All people then gave him names according to their own understanding of his true nature – the Supreme Teacher, the Omniscient Buddha, the Supreme Lord of the World, the Supreme Master, the Lion of Conquerors, the Sakyan Sage, the Victor over Māra, etc. – many names according to one's feelings. But he often used the pronoun for himself as "We, the Tathāgata." The names given by his relatives disappeared.

The Triple Gem – the Buddha, the Dhamma (the Buddha's teachings), and the Sangha (the Buddha's disciples). Why are these three called 'gems'? A gem is an inert mineral without any intrinsic goodness. The Triple Gem is not actually a gem; it is merely a comparison. Because excellent things arising in the world are so valuable, not knowing what else to compare them to besides a gem, seeing nothing else comparable, they compared their value to a gem. In truth, a gem is just an inert mineral, but it is transparent with surrounding luster. Humans, seeing it as something unusual, use it to adorn their bodies. If people didn't value adorning their bodies with it, it would just be discarded as a lump of earth.

The Buddha, the Dhamma, and the Sangha are far more excellent by many thousands of times. The Buddha is a human being with mind and spirit, able to speak the same human language. He trained and cultivated himself until he became the Buddha, and then taught humans to abandon evil, do good, and progress in life, both while alive and after death, leading to a good destination in the future. He is a great teacher, teaching for benefit in this world, the next world, and the ultimate benefit: Nibbāna.

The Dhamma teachings he taught are immeasurably valuable, beneficial to all people in this world and the next. Whoever hears them experiences a miracle as their heart inclines towards the Dhamma, giving rise to effort and diligence to practice without any coercion. The more they practice, the more they appreciate the taste of his teachings. Many have even renounced fame, wealth, and possessions to ordain as his disciples, as is widely evident.

The Buddha's Dhamma teachings have infinite, immeasurable benefits for all humans in the world. The Sangha, the Buddha's disciples, having heard, listened, or studied the scriptures recorded by ancient teachers, have practiced and passed down the tradition in succession, which has allowed the Buddha's teachings to remain stable and endure. If the Buddha's disciples, the Sangha, did not exist, Buddhism would have long disappeared from the world. The Sangha are of great benefit to the Buddhist community. Even during the Buddha's lifetime, they helped spread the religion to the four directions. After his passing away, they have preserved, remembered, and continued religious activities until the present day. If there were only the Buddha alone, the religion would not have spread as widely.

The Triple Gem arose in this world for the infinite benefit of the world's people, giving them clear vision and insight to see goodness more clearly. It is fitting that every human born should practice according to the Triple Gem, which is immensely valuable, radiant, clear, and incomparable in the world.

The Triple Gem is interconnected. The Buddha arose because he discovered the Four Noble Truths within his own mind, thus attaining enlightenment as the Buddha. The Sangha, the Buddha's disciples, having heard the Buddha's teachings and realized those Noble Truths, became the Noble Sangha. Therefore, both the Buddha and the Sangha realized the Four Noble Truths to attain Buddhahood and Noble Sainthood.

Thus, the Buddha said: "Saddhammo garukātabbo saraṃ buddhāna sāsanaṃ" – meaning: "Recalling the Buddha's teachings, one should pay respect to the True Dhamma."

The Dhamma is deathless. Even though the Buddha has long passed into Nibbāna, the Dhamma still exists. Even if the Sangha, the Buddha's disciples, were to completely cease, the Dhamma would still exist as before. Even if the Sangha exists but practices incorrectly, not following the Buddha's teachings, his teachings still shine brightly and clearly in the world as before. It is just that those individuals make themselves defiled.

The Three Gems, the Triple Gem, are radiant and bright in the world. We Buddhists, having been born and finally obtained the three excellent things – body, speech, and mind – now use them to express respect and pay homage to that Triple Gem, placing it above our heads, completing all three prostrations with true respect.

Taking Refuge in the Triple Gem

This Triple Gem is the true measure of a Buddhist lay follower (upāsaka/upāsikā) in Buddhism. That is: We take refuge in the Buddha, we take refuge in the Dhamma, we take refuge in the Noble Sangha. Not believing in superstitions or rumors – meaning believing in karma and the results of karma: doing good yields happiness as a result for oneself; doing evil yields suffering as a result for oneself; no one else can receive the results for us. Not performing merit outside of Buddhism (except for charitable or compassionate reasons). If that person constantly maintains the Five Precepts, they are considered a noble person (ariya) at the preliminary stage.

These five qualities are a measure within one's own mind whether we "take refuge" or "have taken refuge."

"Taking refuge" and "having taken refuge" are different.

"Taking refuge" means seeing the Triple Gem as good, as most people hold it, and wanting to hold it too in order to be a good person like them, so one goes and takes refuge with them. But one does not truly know what the Triple Gem is like; any knowledge is just from others' words or scriptures, not deeply felt in one's own heart. This is called 'taking refuge.' Still, it is better than not taking refuge at all, because one who takes refuge may eventually attain it through study and complete understanding of the Triple Gem.

"Having taken refuge" means one who has initially attained the Triple Gem by having heard, listened, or seen first – such as seeing the Buddha with one's own eyes, or after seeing, hearing his Dhamma teaching, or hearing a Dhamma teaching given by some monk, or seeing some Noble Sangha disciple of the Buddha, then faith and confidence arise in the heart. That person's heart attains – meaning they have faith, take it as a true refuge, not taking other refuges like ghosts, spirits, trees, mountains, deities, etc. They abandon all former refuges. They also do not need to consider the five prescribed conditions mentioned above.

This is the difference between the prescription and the practice. The practitioner acts according to reality but doesn't know what the reality consists of. When that person expresses through body, speech, and mind, it becomes apparent: "Oh, one who has truly reached the Triple Gem is like this." Then they prescribe that one who attains the Triple Gem must possess these five qualities.

But one who takes refuge in the Triple Gem according to the prescribed conditions, as described, often rebels against themselves. They don't get far before abandoning it all because they don't see the virtue of the Triple Gem. Most people see external objects as more important. Even this physical body is external. Without the mind, this conditioned body would not be born. Attaining the Triple Gem must be attained with a truly faithful heart to reach the true virtues of the Triple Gem.

To attain the Triple Gem firmly, one must believe in karma and its results

To attain the Triple Gem firmly, one must have wisdom to see clearly with one's own heart that doing good yields happiness as a result, doing evil yields suffering as a result for oneself, no one else can receive the results. Being firmly convinced of this in one's heart, one can attain the Triple Gem for life. People are born into the world because of karma; without karma, they would not be born. As the Buddha said: "The world, meaning humans, are governed by karma."

Karma means actions, both good and bad.

Good karma is called kusala-karma. Bad karma is called akusala-karma.

Anyone born into this world with body, speech, and mind inevitably performs karma. Therefore, every person born is born to create karma. But choose to create only good karma, which yields only bodily and mental happiness. If one creates bad karma but wants happiness, where could it come from?

Plant a lime tree, the fruit will be lime. How could it be sapodilla or longan? When evil karma yields suffering, they complain that merit-making doesn't help them, that merit has no result, so next time they don't want to do it. Those who make merit without understanding merit naturally think and complain like this. In truth, merit is not an object or something with substance. Merit arises from the mind. The material gift we give comes from the generosity radiating from the mind to help other humans and beings. This radiating generosity is inexhaustible; the more it radiates, the vaster it becomes. The material gift we give is depleted. When we see a person, object, place, or teaching with cause and effect, and listening gives rise to faith – that is true merit.

Humans and beings, once born, must age, sicken, and die. Being born, these things are inevitable. If we have done much good karma and constantly recollect that good karma, even if this body sickens or dies, that is its own affair. But good karma, or merit, is undying.

Therefore, don't blame merit and karma. Blaming ourselves who are born is better. Recollect the good karma we have done as a better refuge.

Morality (Sīla)

One who believes in karma – clearly knowing in their heart that doing good yields happiness, doing evil yields suffering – can completely refrain from violating the Five Precepts without difficulty.

The Five Precepts are hard to maintain because of attachment to the body, loving the body, and then using this body and mind to do evil, creating bad karma, causing this body further suffering. This body is born because of resultant karma (vipāka), thus it is suffering without end. Why then take this resultant karma and add more evil karma? It's not right.

The Buddha taught us to settle karmic debts by maintaining morality, and he taught that the body, speech, and mind themselves are morality. When this body, speech, and mind do not do evil karma, that is morality. If we do not refrain from the five evils, starting with killing, we have no morality. Evil karma will follow, resulting in painful suffering throughout this life and the next.

The Buddha taught an easy way to maintain it – no need to go guard ponds or fish reserves, just restrain one's own body, speech, and mind. He taught to come close to the mind itself. The mere intention to refrain from that evil action – that alone is morality.

Morality is a wall protecting against evil.

Morality is a wall protecting against evil karma for Buddhists who practice Buddhism at the preliminary level. One who has taken refuge in the Triple Gem and believes in karma and its results – that doing good yields good results of bodily and mental happiness, doing evil yields suffering of body and mind – their mind is firmly established in the ten courses of wholesome action (kusalakammapatha). Such a person is said to have the foundation of morality.

Whatever precepts they establish will be stable and fruitful, whether the Five Precepts or the Eight Precepts according to laypeople's capacity – they will grow and flourish, not broken, cracked, or deficient. They become complete laymen and laywomen, truly worthy of being called lay disciples in Buddhism.

If they establish the Ten Precepts of a novice, it is even more excellent because it adds celibacy within Buddhism. If they establish the 227 Precepts of a Buddhist monk, it is even more outstanding because it purifies both minor and major defilements (though laypeople cannot do this, as it is beyond their capacity).

Morality has its foundation in Hiri and Ottappa

Morality is a type of defilement-cleanser in Buddhism, as described. For morality to remain stable throughout a person's life, that person must possess two qualities:

  1. Hiri – shame or moral dread of committing that evil action.
  2. Ottappa – fear of the consequences of that evil action.

These two qualities are the foundation of all types of morality, whether the Five or Eight Precepts for laypeople, or the Ten or 227 Precepts for the ordained. If the heart of the precept-keeper lacks these two qualities, their morality lacks a foundation, has no stability, like a tree missing its taproot – it will only fall.

Hiri – shame towards the evil action one has committed, even greater than a person with a loathsome disease who dresses neatly before entering a public place. They always feel self-shame, whether others know or see it or not, because their own mind knows and sees it constantly.

Ottappa – fear of the evil action committed through body, speech, and mind that will affect oneself. They fear it more than seeing a poisonous snake, unable to even approach it. The fear of evil seen with the mind and feared with the mind is a constant shuddering dread, like a wound on the heart. Whether others feel the pain or not, that person feels the pain alone. These feelings of shame and fear are like a person who is ashamed of and fears violating that particular precept. Having such shame and fear of evil actions, they are constantly mindful and self-aware. How could they ever violate that precept?

Morality is the intention to refrain from that fault

Morality is the first step for those professing Buddhism to abandon defilements in the heart through the intention to refrain. One who has taken refuge in the Triple Gem through respectful homage, recollecting the true meaning with a heart that bows to the ground, with speech that recites "Arahaṃ Sammāsambuddho Bhagavā" or "Svākkhāto Bhagavatā Dhammo" or "Supāṭipanno Bhagavato Sāvakasaṅgho," or recollects them in mind morning and evening – this is the daily routine of one who truly holds the Triple Gem.

When it comes to maintaining morality, one may or may not prostrate, because morality arises from the intention to refrain from that fault. Morality arises within oneself. When morality exists within us, then we have already paid homage to all three aspects of the Triple Gem, because we are acting correctly according to the Buddha's instructions in every way.

The Buddha pointed out morality to show us the ways of right and wrong: "If you refrain from this, it is morality; if you don't refrain, it is not morality." Simply put, it means knowing the path of evil and merit. The path that is neither evil nor merit need not be mentioned, as it is hard to understand. All paths to evil in this world originate from body, speech, and mind. With only body and speech, without mind, one cannot perform evil karma. Even though the Buddha prescribed the Five, Eight, Ten, and 227 Precepts, he prescribed them on body, speech, and mind. The countless Dhamma teachings the Buddha expounded all expound from body, speech, and mind. But here, we will speak only about morality.

Morality that the Buddha prescribed as a disciplinary rule (Buddha-ājñā) – when monks transgressed a particular rule, he himself judged and then laid down a training rule (sikkhāpada), sometimes heavy, sometimes light, according to that fault (or that defilement). Novices have 10 or 20 rules, starting with Pāṇātipāta (killing). (For details, see the Novice's Training.)

Monks have 227 rules recited every fortnight. There are many others not included in the recitation. Most of these rules are not violated by monks, but are things monks should do, as doing them brings goodness and a joyful mind, and laypeople develop faith. Alternatively, these are defilements waiting to attack monks, which the Buddha compassionately saw and told his disciples about – called Sekhiyavatta and Abhisamācāra.

Among all those 227 training rules, they are violated only by monks lacking Hiri and Ottappa. A monk with Hiri and Ottappa in his heart would never deliberately violate them. The mess and clutter in Buddhism occurs precisely because monks lack shame. One with Hiri and Ottappa in their heart, even if they commit an offense through forgetfulness, lack of mindfulness, or misunderstanding, when they realize it or when another monk reminds them, they will confess the offense and then restrain themselves. This befits the term "monk who strikes" – striking the defilements within their own heart so they cannot firmly adhere to the mind.

Morality or Discipline (Vinaya) prescribed by the Buddha is of two types:

  1. Āgāriya-vinaya – for laypeople who cannot ordain. While in lay life, they should have the Five or Eight Precepts as rules. Without rules, there is no order, leading to ugliness; such people are called delinquents.
  2. Anāgāriya-vinaya – prescribed for monks and novices who have gone forth to practice celibacy in Buddhism, having enough endurance to preserve the religion.

Both types of discipline or morality, if well observed and restrained, can lead to the three noble attainments (the three paths and fruits, excluding the highest, Arahatta-phala). For Arahatta-phala, it is taught that one who attains it while still a layperson can remain in the lay state for only seven days; if not ordained, they must pass into Nibbāna. Whatever the reason, it is briefly explained that the lay state is low and cannot support the highest Dhamma.

Dhamma precedes Morality

However, to attain noble attainments, one must have a stable foundation. Besides Hiri and Ottappa, one must also have loving-kindness (mettā) and compassion (karuṇā) in the heart. Dhamma is the root of all morality. Whether the Five, Eight, Ten, or 227 Precepts for monks, without Dhamma as the root, morality cannot be established.

Dhamma is like a tree trunk; morality is like the branches and twigs. Just as branches and twigs rely on the root to draw up nutrients from the soil to stay lush and green, so too with morality.

Morality well maintained in this life becomes a cause and condition for Dhamma to be constantly in the heart, leading to future rebirth. When born again as a human, one naturally has loving-kindness and compassion towards fellow humans and animals, without jealousy, malice, or intention to harm others. Seeing others harm humans or animals, they feel fear and shame towards that evil action. Hearing a monk teach Dhamma or someone inviting them to refrain from evil and maintain precepts, they readily and happily comply. This accords with the saying: "One who has done merit in the past causes oneself to be established in righteousness." Or like a large tree with deep, stable roots, constantly drawing nutrients to keep its branches lush and green. Even if some branches are pruned, they will grow back in time. Similarly with morality, even if some precepts are occasionally broken or deficient, if Dhamma – loving-kindness and compassion – is still full in that person's heart, morality can arise again later.

Even if one lacks the foundation of morality from past merit and perfections, trying to maintain it to cultivate habit in this life and as a tendency for future lives is still better than having no morality at all. Better than some people born into this world with perfect physical organs and complete external wealth without any deficiency, yet they are negligent. They are not interested in giving and morality as described. They see happiness in this life as sufficient; they don't care about future lives. Such views of those intoxicated with negligence are pitiful. They are consuming only old assets, which will only deplete.

One who possesses these four qualities – loving-kindness, compassion, shame, and fear – constantly in their heart is said to have perfect morality within themselves, because these four qualities are interconnected and extend to morality. When these four qualities are removed from a person's heart, various defilements – the five faults, eight faults, ten faults, 227 faults – will appear in their place. Intentions to commit those evil actions will swarm in crowds, capable of doing evil anytime. That person is then called full of unrighteousness (a-dhamma), meaning unwholesomeness.

Concentration (Samādhi)

Concentration is specifically about training the mind, yet it still relates to the body, which is external. Because body and mind, as long as life exists, constantly rely on and connect with each other. Therefore, concentration necessarily requires training both this body and mind to be under one's control.

Sometimes concentration is called Samatha, meaning calmness. Some people are quiet, still, not interfering much with others, and are called 'samatha' persons. Actually, concentration and samatha differ. Even though both involve mind training, they differ in method and in how the mind is unified. So, to make understanding easier, they should be separated. The author will explain as follows. May practitioners consider accordingly.

Characteristics of Jhāna

Samatha is a method of training the mind to attain one-pointedness (ekaggatārammaṇa) with a supreme single object, called Jhāna, meaning 'absorption' or 'fixing the mind.' One can fix on a physical form (rūpa) or a mental phenomenon (nāma) as object, as long as one takes that mental image (nimitta) as the sole object. There are eight Jhānas, divided into four Rūpa Jhānas (fixing on form) and four Arūpa Jhānas (fixing on formless objects).

Four Rūpa Jhānas

The four Rūpa Jhānas, fixing on form as object – whether physical or mental – as long as one fixes until the mind unifies into one-pointedness, it works. The fixing does not require analyzing that form in detail, considering how it is this or that, how it breaks up and becomes something else. Just fix on that form as the sole object, as 'form, form, form' – whether earth, water, or empty space – until an acquired image (uggaha-nimitta) or counterpart image (paṭibhāga-nimitta) arises, vivid to the senses. The mind then fixes on that image as object.

The four Rūpa Jhānas, fixing on form as object, are categorized as: 1) First Jhāna, 2) Second Jhāna, 3) Third Jhāna, 4) Fourth Jhāna.

Why are the six sense objects or six collections of defilements limited to being the task of only the four Rūpa Jhānas for purification? Each person's defilements or sense objects are countless, immeasurable. To know clearly, one must ask a meditation master. The six sense objects are suitable for suppression by the four Rūpa Jhānas because these Jhānas fix only on the Jhāna object, not analyzing anything else, and the mind unifies into one-pointedness, which is the culmination of the four Rūpa Jhānas.

For more subtle objects beyond this, the four Rūpa Jhānas cannot purify, nor can they completely abandon even the six sense objects; they only suppress them with Jhāna.

First Jhāna consists of five factors, or five objects:

  1. Vitakka: Lifting the mind to the meditation subject (kammaṭṭhāna) – i.e., determining that meditation subject itself. Here, 'kammaṭṭhāna' refers to external objects like the earth kasiṇa. Fix exclusively on 'earth' without analyzing it as anything else (like breaking up, etc.), just 'earth, earth, earth' as object until an acquired image arises vividly, whether in any posture, constantly seeing it that way.
  2. Vicāra: Fixing on the earth as having white, black, red, etc., color until an acquired image arises similarly.
  3. Pīti: When the mind fixes on a single object, seeing it clearly, rapture arises.
  4. Sukha: When rapture arises, happiness pervades the entire body.
  5. Ekaggatā: Then the mind unifies into one-pointedness, having a supreme single mind.

One attaining this first Jhāna has an object similar to ordinary people, but limits five collections of defilements to be purified by Jhāna absorption, unlike ordinary people who have many defilements and purify them by no method at all.

Second Jhāna has three factors, having abandoned vitakka and vicāra as described, leaving pīti, sukha, ekaggatā.

Third Jhāna has two factors, having abandoned pīti, leaving sukha and ekaggatā.

Fourth Jhāna has two factors, having abandoned sukha, becoming equanimity (neutrality towards all objects) and ekaggatā.

Jhāna means absorption

Jhāna means absorption. Absorption and analytical absorption are different.

Analytical absorption is a matter of concentration (samādhi).

What has been described so far is about pure absorption, specifically concerning Jhāna. The example of fixing on earth was chosen because it is easy to see. Vitakka and vicāra are also vitakka and vicāra regarding that earth, as described. When vitakka and vicāra are on a single object, other objects in the mind subside. Therefore, the six sense objects, which are the domain of Rūpa Jhāna, can be suppressed specifically by the four Jhānas.

The author has written several books misunderstanding that the five Jhāna factors, including vitakka and vicāra, must be abandoned by those Jhāna factors themselves, and then one-pointedness is also abandoned – then what would that Jhāna rest upon? Having written or spoken thus, it's like eating food without drinking water or washing hands. Due to limited study and poor memory, errors occurred. May the wise and practitioners please forgive. With strong, sincere intention to help practitioners understand Jhāna, no matter how much the author writes or explains, along with the readers, we likely won't understand the core essence anyway.

Four Arūpa Jhānas (Formless Jhānas)

When one attains the fourth Rūpa Jhāna, where happiness has become equanimity and one-pointedness as object, as that object becomes heavier, it transforms into infinite, boundless space. This is called Ākāsānañcāyatana Jhāna (Sphere of Infinite Space).

Fixing on that Ākāsānañcāyatana Jhāna as object, as it becomes heavier, one sees the consciousness that fixes on space as a support. This is called Viññāṇañcāyatana Jhāna (Sphere of Infinite Consciousness).

Consciousness is without substance. As one fixes on that consciousness, consciousness becomes less and less until it disappears. When consciousness disappears but feeling still exists – not quite consciousness, not quite not-consciousness – this is called Ākiñcaññāyatana Jhāna (Sphere of Nothingness).

Fixing on Ākiñcaññāyatana, the mind becomes increasingly subtle until one cannot distinguish which is perception (saññā) and which is not perception. This is called Nevasaññānāsaññāyatana Jhāna (Sphere of Neither Perception nor Non-Perception), the fourth Arūpa Jhāna.

For the four Arūpa Jhānas, they don't mention one-pointedness as their culmination. Even if not mentioned, the fourth Jhāna which steps up to Arūpa Jhāna already stated that happiness becomes equanimity and one-pointedness. The four Arūpa Jhānas inherently have one-pointedness.

If a Jhāna lacks one-pointedness, it cannot abandon that object. Not abandoning that object means that Jhāna has declined, and one must start over from the first Jhāna.

Each of the four Arūpa Jhānas has a single unique object of that Jhāna, starting with Ākāsānañcāyatana, etc. Even the Cessation of Perception and Feeling (Saññāvedayitanirodha) follows from this fourth Arūpa Jhāna. It cannot be separated from the four Arūpa Jhānas, because entering Jhāna concerns the single mind of a single person, who must complete the entire sequence (starting from first Jhāna). Another person or another mind cannot continue it, unlike passing objects along.

The fourth Arūpa Jhāna fixes on perception so subtly that one barely knows whether it is perception or not. As one fixes the mind, it becomes even subtler, and then the mind lets go of that "neither perception nor non-perception," thereby ceasing all perception and feeling. This is called Saññāvedayitanirodha.

This Saññāvedayitanirodha can be entered only by one skilled in all eight Jhānas. Noble ones from the stage of Non-returner (Anāgāmī) upwards can also enter it. When entering Saññāvedayitanirodha, vitakka ceases first, then breath ceases, then mental formations (citta-saṅkhāra) cease. Before entering, one has resolved to remain for seven days. After seven days, mental formations (perception and feeling) arise first, then breath resumes, then vitakka arises in sequence.

The Termite-Heaped Hermit

As for hermits generally practicing celibacy, they train until attaining Jhāna in sequence, then enter Jhāna. But they don't know the sequence, only that they enter Jhāna. Once entered, they delight in that Jhāna, forgetting days, months, years.

As the ancients tell: A hermit entered Jhāna in a forest. He sat until termites built a mound covering him completely. A buffalo rubbed its side against the termite mound, breaking it open, revealing the hermit sitting inside. Fixing only on the mind until forgetting the body, when the body lacks the mind, it just sits rigidly, like what is called a 'gourd Brahmā' perhaps.

If questioned: One entering Saññāvedayitanirodha has no in-and-out breathing – why don't they die? The answer: In-and-out breathing is coarse breath for ordinary people. Subtle breath exists throughout the body of one in Nirodha, but it doesn't exit through the nose; it gradually diffuses through pores. The body remains warm because the diaphragm still flickers subtly, so breath hasn't completely left the body. The body retains warmth, so life hasn't ceased.

This can be seen in slaughtered animals whose meat is sold; the meat remains warm, and the lungs still flicker. It is said that before birth, the four elements assemble into a single clear drop of oil, then the mind-spirit enters to conceive. At death, the mind-spirit leaves the body first, but the body still has warmth, like a lizard's tail that continues to twitch after detachment.

Jhāna and Samādhi are interchangeable

These eight Jhānas, even though categorized as mundane (lokiya) Jhānas, Noble Ones like to play with them. Supramundane (lokuttara) Jhāna doesn't exist; only mundane Jhāna exists. They haven't explained supramundane Jhāna factors separately, only mundane ones. Noble Ones enter mundane Jhāna but don't get deluded by them. They master the Jhāna, not letting the Jhāna master them, hence called supramundane Jhāna, consistent with the Buddha's words: "One without Jhāna has no samādhi."

Jhāna and Samādhi go together and are interchangeable. While analytically contemplating, if mindfulness weakens, the mind may merge into the life-continuum (bhavaṅga), becoming Jhāna. While fixing on a single object, like earth, if mindfulness becomes strong, it won't fix exclusively on earth but will instead analyze earth: why does earth arise? why does it persist? why does it cease? after ceasing, what does it become? Investigating the cause and effect of earth until knowing clearly, then it becomes still, knowing neutrally.

Noble Ones use Jhāna as a dwelling

The various Jhānas are playthings for Noble Ones. Noble Ones, from Stream-enterers (Sotāpanna) upwards, all play with these Jhānas. Supramundane Jhāna doesn't exist. Supramundane Dhamma proper has no play; it only involves serious contemplation and then concludes – e.g., contemplating elements, aggregates, sense bases, faculties, seeing them as natural phenomena, letting go according to their nature. Knowing their true cause, one doesn't know what to play with or where.

Jhānas, however, have many magical aspects. For example, fixing on this body as 'earth, earth, earth' as object, a counterpart image arises as an earth plate everywhere – from ourselves to others and animals, all become smooth earth. Similarly with water, one sees water everywhere; wherever one looks, there is white water everywhere. In reality, one's body is still a normal human body. Hard things like bones and flesh are conventionally called the earth element; blood, water, urine are conventionally called the water element. We call them accordingly. In truth, if humans didn't conventionally label them, we wouldn't know what to call them. They arise and then disintegrate according to their nature, as they always have.

Some practitioners fix on themselves becoming the Buddha, disciples, or Paccekabuddhas floating through the air. Some fix on houses and cities becoming heavenly cities. Some fix exclusively on the mental phenomenon (nāma) as object; when the mind merges into bhavaṅga, a nimitta arises as deities, ghosts, spirits, Indra, Brahmā, coming to converse with them, leading to delight.

Sometimes knowledge arises within the heart: that person was once one's parent, child, wife, or husband in a previous life. This is called Abhiññā (higher knowledge). Inner knowledge is special. Sometimes it's true, sometimes it's false, deluding one into believing it. Sometimes it even ruins a person, because that knowledge is still worldly (lokiya), without criteria. When it arises, it arises spontaneously while one's mind is still turbulent with various defilements, becoming perception and mental fabrication. Yet people love it, calling it 'inner seeing.'

Teachers wanting fame love these things, even though they have never seen or experienced them themselves. They teach some disciples who had previous tendencies in this area; when it arises, they support it as good and correct, as wonderful, encouraging more. The disciple, already with blurred vision, gets blind drops from the teacher, becoming even more blind. Now blind, they don't know what to do, both becoming blind.

The author has personally experienced dozens of such cases. Meditation teachers should be careful. Teaching meditation, instead of propagating Buddhism, shortens it. Those with faith who want to practice meditation because they see it as a battlefield for fighting defilements, when they see practitioners ending up as described, lose their effort and persistence. Even worse, those without prior faith turn away upon seeing such things.

On the Abhiññā of Noble Ones

As for the Abhiññās arising from these Jhānas, Noble Ones who are skilled and wise also play with them, but they play at appropriate times, unlike people nowadays who claim to know anytime, even giving out numbers and tickets.

Noble Ones with such tendencies, skilled in entering Jhāna, when they wish to know or do something, must first enter the fourth Jhāna (the base for Abhiññās), then emerge from it, establish themselves in access concentration (upacāra-samādhi), then direct their thought to the matter they wish to know, then let the mind be neutral. Those skilled in this know with their heart and respond with their clever wisdom. Those not skilled or without such tendencies remain neutral and continue their duties. They are not distressed by these matters. Thus, their knowledge is certain, reasonable, and believable.

Unlike the knowledge from the Jhānas of ordinary worldlings (puthujjana). When they want to know or see something, as soon as the mind reaches bhavaṅga, it arises spontaneously, and they send their mind out according to that knowledge and vision, unable to control their mind, delighting in that Jhāna's object. Noble Ones know the mind, know the object, know the heart. When they have used the Jhāna and their mind appropriately, they let go of those matters and remain neutral towards everything, aware that they are neutral. Therefore, the Jhānas of worldlings often decline when they encounter external sense objects. We have heard various stories illustrating this. Here is one story of Jhāna decline.

The Story of the Hermit Isisiṅga

There was a hermit who built a hermitage in a certain forest, at a suitable distance from the village. One day, a young doe wandered by. Seeing the hermit's urine puddle, she drank it and became pregnant.

When her time came, she gave birth to a baby boy. The hermit, seeing this, raised him on fruits and roots. Growing up, the hermit taught him meditation and the attainment of Jhāna and concentration, as hermits do. Poor young hermit, born human but not associating with humans, only with his hermit father.

One day, the father hermit took the young hermit to roam in the great forest. He pointed out the 'Nārīphala' tree, whose flowers resembled women hanging abundantly from the branches, like women hanging from trees. Returning to the hermitage, he taught: "My son, do not be deluded by animals with horns on their foreheads."

The father hermit, practicing celibacy without decline, died and was reborn in the Brahmā world. The young hermit diligently practiced asceticism alone without negligence. Due to the power of the young hermit's strong morality, Indra's boulder-crystal throne became hard.

Indra, reflecting with his divine eye, saw that the young hermit Isisiṅga's morality was extremely strong. Upon death from the human world, he would be reborn in heaven and become greater than all deities. So Indra pretended to be unwell, lying alone gloomily. The deities, seeing this, asked: "Your Majesty, the greatest of deities, are you unwell, or has someone troubled you? Please command us; we will resolve the matter." Indra remained silent, speaking to no one.

A particularly beautiful and charming celestial maiden approached and asked: "Your Majesty, greatest of all in heaven, what ails your mind? Who troubles you for what reason? Please tell me; I will help relieve that suffering." Indra then moved closer to her and said: "Dear younger sister, come closer. I will tell you. This matter must remain between us. Don't you know that the hermit Isisiṅga is practicing asceticism in the human world so strongly that upon death he might be born in heaven as greater than all deities? Go, sister, go destroy the morality of that hermit Isisiṅga." The celestial maiden said: "Please, Your Majesty, do not cause my ruin!" Indra commanded: "No, sister, you must go and destroy him." Then she disappeared and appeared before the hermit.

As soon as the hermit Isisiṅga experienced that delightful form (the celestial maiden), he lost consciousness, fainting on the spot, as if a thunderbolt had struck and shattered his heart. He became intoxicated with celestial sensual bliss, not knowing how many days or months. When he regained consciousness and awareness, he felt a sense of urgency: "Oh, this is what the father hermit warned about: do not be deluded by dangerous animals like that."

Then the hermit told the celestial maiden: "Leave this place and never return." The celestial maiden said: "I did not come of my own power; Indra commanded me, because your asceticism is so strong that upon death you could be born in heaven as greater than all deities." Having said that, she vanished. The hermit then cleaned up his water pots, fire altar, and overgrown hermitage, then practiced asceticism until he regained his Jhāna. He lived until the end of his lifespan, then passed away and was reborn in the Brahmā world.

Wrong View Mistaken for Correct

Many practitioners, past, future, and present, when reaching this stage, often become self-forgetful, understanding that this is the culmination of the holy life. Unable to restrain themselves, they proclaim wanting others to know they have reached the end, using various metaphors, sometimes directly saying: "Don't doubt me. I have nothing more to say."

This is very frightening. Such a person cannot be touched by anyone. The author sees that the desire to be something is like sticky glue, adhering to whatever comes near, especially inserting oneself into the view: "I see, I am this or that, I am more special than others, I want others to see how special I am." This is falling into a deep pit. The more one practices, the more smeared one becomes, causing later generations to lose faith.

Others, seeing practitioners knowing this or that, seeing strange things, want to see them too. Practicing with desire leading the way, when nothing arises, they become discouraged, thinking that even with good practice, nothing happens in Buddhism, so they lose faith in Buddhism.

Buddhism teaches belief in karma and its results. Whatever karma we have done, we receive its results. Those who practice until they know and see these things, being skilled and sharp, do so because of past karma accumulated over countless previous lives. In this life, they are thus. We have done little good karma or perhaps none in the past, so we are not like them. It is good that we were born in this life and see those who do good receiving good results, so we can practice like them. Therefore, we should rejoice in being born human and continue doing good for future benefit.

Even the Arahant disciples of the Buddha in the past were similar. Some attained Arahantship and became skilled in the four analytical knowledges (Paṭisambhidā), able to teach Buddhists eloquently. Others, after attaining Arahantship, simply lived in their Dhamma dwelling, not displaying any miraculous powers. These matters depend on each individual's past karma. Therefore, it is better to rejoice in the karma we are doing in the present.

The four or eight Jhānas are entirely mundane, as described. Entering or emerging from Jhāna factors is also entirely mundane. Supramundane Jhāna is not found anywhere in the teachings. What is called supramundane Jhāna is because one has attained supramundane states and then enters mundane Jhāna. In truth, they enter mundane Jhāna itself.

The difference between entering supramundane Jhāna is that one is not deluded or attached to that Jhāna, unlike children playing sports who become intoxicated with the play, whereas adults play sports for health. The difference between mundane and supramundane Jhāna is that mundane Jhāna can decline, while supramundane Jhāna never declines, because one has control over Jhāna and mind, keeping them within bounds.

The Dangers and Allurements of Sensuality are Many

Sensual pleasures (kāma-guṇa) are a grave danger to the holy life. They can dominate this entire world. For example, the hermit Isisiṅga had such strong asceticism that Indra, whom the whole world and deities call "as powerful as Indra," was still afraid of him and had to send a celestial nymph to subdue him.

All humans in the world, whatever they do, whatever their profession, must cite sensual pleasures as the original cause. Even the holy life in Buddhism is the same. Those who wish to escape sensuality must still cite sensuality as the reason.

The flowers of the five strands of sensuality bloom abundantly throughout the world. Unfortunate men and women, born and deluded, admire, love, and pick them to adorn themselves. Māra sees them and laughs contentedly, thinking they have fallen into his grasp, then sings lullabies to make them dance to his rhythm. The Buddha said:

"Singing is weeping" (lamenting, grieving, yearning for the dead or the living with a deeply sorrowful voice, making listeners imagine vividly).

"Dancing is the behavior of madmen" – i.e., performing various insane gestures, swaying, turning left and right, contorting postures abnormally, flailing limbs like madmen.

"Laughing is the behavior of children" – young children, before understanding, lying in a cradle or arms, seeing anything only respond with laughter.

The wise, starting with the Buddha, saw these things as they truly are, felt a sense of urgency, and declared: "Singing is weeping, dancing is madness, laughing is childishness. This is the discipline of the Arahants."

It is fortunate for us all that we have performed merit in the past, that we were born as humans with pure, non-deformed birth, and that we encountered Buddhism, which teaches us not to be deluded and trapped in the world's prison. If we weren't born in this world, where would we know these things? Because we were born in this world, we know what exists here.

Having discussed Jhāna sufficiently, we will now discuss Samādhi.

Concentration (Samādhi)

Samādhi means making the mind firm on a single object. The Buddha taught Samādhi in Buddhism, presented simply, as existing within us in 40 ways: 10 kasiṇas, 10 asubhas, 10 anussatis, 4 appamaññās, 1 āhāre paṭikūlasaññā, 1 catudhātuvavatthāna, and 4 arūpa jhānas.

Total 40, all located in and related to this body.

Beyond these, the Buddha taught many other things in various places, after hearing which disciples attained path, fruit, and Nibbāna. Many were not codified, and those disciples seemed not even to hear the word 'jhāna.' For example, the minister Santati, dead drunk on an elephant's neck; the Buddha compassionately taught: "You should purify your mind regarding the future, and not concern yourself with the past mind. Even in the middle, do not grasp." With just that, he attained Arahantship. Because he had previously perfected his perfections and become skilled, hearing just that much of the Buddha's teaching, his previously cultivated Jhāna arose, and his samādhi became firm, listening to the Buddha's teaching, thus attaining Nibbāna.

The Three Friends Eating Rice Parcels in the Forest

Methods for training the mind to attain samādhi are various, but when the mind attains samādhi, it has the same taste. Slight differences may occur in some with unusual tendencies, but upon reflection, they harmonize. As the story goes: Three close friends – Thai, Lao, and Khmer – thought it fun to go eat rice in the forest. "Friends, let's go eat rice in the forest today. Prepare a parcel of rice each, with good food." The three couldn't prepare fully due to suddenness, each thinking the other would bring good food.

Walking through the forest, they asked each other what food they brought. Each told what they brought. Arriving at the destination, the three sat in a circle and opened their rice parcels. It turned out they all had only fermented fish (plaa raa). They burst out laughing. Why? Because the language differed. Thai calls it 'plaa raa', Lao calls it 'plaa daek', Khmer calls it 'plaa rahok'. The three friends didn't quarrel but laughed heartily.

We Buddhists, even though from different groups, nations, and languages, profess the same Buddhism, the same Buddha. He taught us to be harmonious, not to be jealous or harm each other, for the peace of all people in the world. He didn't demand that we worship him; we voluntarily have faith and worship him. But having come to worship him, why do we quarrel, conflict, compete, create chaos, causing trouble for each other? Aren't we ashamed that we profess Buddhism with pure faith? Why don't we follow the Buddha's teachings? Especially monks with good education, adequate knowledge of Buddhist teachings, who even preach to laypeople – why do some monks still quarrel, compete with each other for who knows what? They are not respectable to laypeople.

A friend of the author organized a merit-making event at her temple. She invited monks to preach at four pulpits, hiring them at 10,000 baht each. Is that appropriate? If laypeople want to donate for a sermon, that's their business. But negotiating a fee of 10,000 baht per monk, hiring monks to perform like a drama troupe – they might as well charge the monks for breakfast and lunch to avoid loss. Can this be called Buddhism prospering? These days, people use Buddhism as a front for livelihood, as we often hear.

Methods for Calm and Samādhi Meditation

Practicing samādhi and cultivating calm have many methods, as described above. However many methods, the main point is to calm the mind. If the mind isn't calm, there's no benefit.

Some people don't select a meditation subject suitable to their temperament. They recite this or that text, and eventually get bored, as described, because they lack ingenuity (paṭibhāna). Ingenuity is strange; it cannot be taught, it arises spontaneously. Unlike skillful means (upāya), which can be taught using analogies and comparisons to explain reason and cause-effect. When skillful means deeply touches the heart, then ingenuity arises. Hence it is taught: "By proper ingenuity."

Nevertheless, whether the mind doesn't calm down at all, or calms down occasionally, it's still better than not doing it at all. Doing it is called gradually cultivating one's habits. Not everyone is like that. As soon as they start meditation, they want to know, want to see, thinking this and that; their mind isn't steady in samādhi, so they can't grasp the principle.

There was an old lady, advanced in age. She spoke Dhamma correctly according to the practice path. Others listened and understood clearly, able to practice effectively. She had never studied Dhamma before. Her peers, whether experienced practitioners or not, after hearing her wise words, all concluded that this old lady must have attained some stage or other. Upon returning home, she cheerfully played cards. She thought meditation could be done anytime. True enough, later she went to the hospital for surgery. After discharge, she reportedly maintained good mental composure as before, not letting her mind become defiled, which strengthened her courageous heart. Later, she went to the hospital again and passed away. Before dying, she told her friends: "If I had continuously followed the teacher's instructions, I would have been much better. I was negligent. I wasted time."

Another person practiced meditation for decades. He said every time he meditated, he just fell asleep, useless. Later, he analytically contemplated the five aggregates, seeing them as the Three Characteristics (impermanence, suffering, non-self). His mind unified, and drowsiness disappeared immediately. He grasped that principle and contemplated it until the day he died, maintaining steady contemplation. This could be called old merit and perfections cultivated in the past. Whether it was merit and perfections or not, when one becomes negligent, that merit and perfection diminishes and declines. The refuge one had deteriorates.

Here, the author will use Mindfulness of the Body (Kāyagatāsati Kammaṭṭhāna) as an example for training, as an illustration.

First, firmly establish mindfulness: "This Mindfulness of the Body meditation is good and excellent. Other meditations are not as good as this one, because contemplating in-and-out breathing comes from this body, contemplating death is at this body, contemplating foulness (asubha) is this body, contemplating the four elements is also this body."

Having firmly believed this, place the mind on this body, do not send it outside. Maintain inner awareness constantly. If it slips and goes outside, bring it back inside and re-establish inner awareness.

If it still goes out, mentally recite "body breaking up, body breaking up" (kāya bheda, kāya bheda) and contemplate this body as disintegrating. Contemplate the actual body as truly disintegrating until you truly see with your inner heart that this body has disintegrated, becoming earth, water, fire, air according to its nature – it cannot be otherwise. Then the mind will not think of other things; it will converge and settle in the midst of that thought, becoming one. This is called the end of thinking and conceiving, converging into oneness, with awareness that one is one.

This oneness through this method can last as long as desired. At that moment, no need for any wisdom, because wisdom was used initially, contemplating this body as earth, water, fire, air. Having contemplated thoroughly, the mind must rest. The mind, contemplating everything, becomes scattered and unceasing – this is called the mind being deluded and delighting in the five strands of sensuality, cycling in saṃsāra (vaṭṭa). For the mind to be free from the cycle (vivaṭṭa), it must have a place of rest, as described.

This Body is the Source of All Dhammas

This body can be contemplated to attain Jhāna, or Samādhi, or Vipassanā, depending on one's ingenuity and skill. This body is called a lump of Dhamma, a chest of scriptures, a mobile Tripitaka cabinet, the source of Buddhism.

Without this body, how could Buddhism arise? Where would morality, concentration, and wisdom be established? Because this body exists, Buddhism is established right here. Each person can practice according to their capacity and desire. Buddhism is universal. Wherever humans in this world have a mind arise, defilements envelop that mind. The Buddha arose there and then prescribed Buddhism onto the body, speech, and mind of those humans.

Even after the Buddha's Nibbāna, his teachings remain in the hearts of those humans. Those with faith continue to practice. Only when all humans in this world have no more faith in Buddhism, or when no more human minds are born into this world, will Buddhism disappear from this world.

Buddhism is thus universal. Whether the Buddha arises in this world or not, Dhamma – both unwholesome and wholesome – has existed like that from time immemorial. Only conventional designations (sammuti) of 'this and that' exist in the world. Ultimately, fabrications (saṅkhāra) are impermanent, arising and ceasing. All phenomena are non-self (anattā). Therefore, one who claims 'I have attained Dhamma, this or that level of Dhamma' still has desire. How can they be called one who has attained Dhamma? It is declared as claiming a superhuman state (uttarimanussadhamma).

The wise, starting with the Buddha, investigate the root causes of defilements or unwholesome taints within their own minds, see them clearly with their own minds, then find ways to eliminate them completely by themselves. They do not focus on the faults of others, or the defilements of others, unlike us Buddhists in this era. They act for the peace of their own aggregate-world, because the defilements in their own aggregate-world have long caused them suffering. They are utterly fed up.

Samādhi using the Elements as Object

Any object can be used for samādhi, as described. Just make the mind firm and unified – that is called samādhi. Here, the author will use this body as the object for samādhi, because this body contains many meditation subjects, such as the analysis of the four elements (catudhātuvavatthāna) and foulness meditation (asubha kammaṭṭhāna), all of which inspire a sense of urgency (saṃvega) and lead to meditation.

Contemplate this body as a lump of earth. Instead of just fixing on earth exclusively (like in Jhāna), analyze it as earth, water, fire, air all existing simultaneously. These four must exist together in every place, every time. When one arises, the other three must also exist. Whether humans, animals, trees, stones, mountains, or other things – they arise and then persist. If it has a consciousness that can move, it moves according to its nature (i.e., seeking food).

These lumps of earth have various characteristics. Some have colors white, black, red; some have beautiful, pleasing forms; some are rough, bumpy, broken, bent, unseemly.

All these lumps of earth are scattered everywhere in the world. If you make the mind neutral through samādhi, you will see these as natural phenomena separate from yourself. Then you will see all those things, including yourself, as objects of urgency: born of the four elements, rolling around in this world, then disintegrating without any benefit. Having been born as this lump of earth, one should make oneself beneficial to oneself and others while still alive, before death, rather than letting it die uselessly without having done any good in the world.

Samādhi using Foulness (Asubha) as Object

Samādhi using foulness as object: this entire body is entirely foul, decaying, and ugly. But not the kind of ugliness from Jhāna that sees only asubha, generating a counterpart image of repulsive decay until one is disgusted, almost unable to eat. Rather, contemplate it as ordinarily repulsive, but see clearly with inner vision: this body, covered by skin – without the skin, blood would ooze everywhere, insects and ants would crawl and suck it as food, which is ugly and frightening to people. Even urine and saliva – once spat out, you cannot swallow them again. If they touch body parts, you must wash or wipe them clean. They are truly filthy and ugly. Yet when we eat food or anything, it must first mix with this saliva before swallowing. It is taught that some hungry ghosts (petas) eat their own urine and saliva to sustain life. Perhaps that refers to humans.

Samādhi using Death (Maraṇa) as Object

Samādhi using death as object: Contemplating death as object, if it doesn't become samādhi, it's just meditation. Because all humans and beings born into this world cherish and love life. Life is desired by all beings. Contemplating death – that life has no substance, like borrowing something for temporary use; when time comes, you must return it (but don't forget that the 'borrower' still exists, must borrow again from others. One born must be indebted to the world like this endlessly).

Life is public property, arising from the four elements – earth, water, fire, air. Upon death, it returns to earth, water, fire, air. No one takes anything with them except the good and evil done, which adhere to the mind and follow them forward. Therefore, being born is like borrowing something to be born; upon death, you return it; being born again, you borrow anew – thus endlessly, without end.

Don't forget: the one who goes to borrow to be born still exists, so they must keep borrowing endlessly. Contemplating this threatens the mind; the mind shrinks, contemplates itself, sees accordingly, then unifies into samādhi, becoming still with urgency, the mind still in one-pointedness.

But some people are the opposite. The author heard of a certain person, initially faithful and quite wealthy, with many acquaintances. In old age, unable to help himself, needing others' care, forgetful, but not forgetting money. He constantly clutched his keys until the hand holding them rotted. No matter what anyone said, he didn't believe, afraid the money would be lost. Let the reader consider the truth. The author is just relaying what was heard.

Samatha and Samādhi are Reversible

The method of practicing samādhi using the four elements, asubha, and maraṇasati as objects – these three examples are pure samādhi practice, not mixed with Jhāna at all. But samatha (i.e., Jhāna) is reversible with samādhi, like the palm and back of the hand. Because it's training the same mind, with the same skillful means, but ingenuity differs, intention differs, and results differ somewhat.

For example, in contemplating the four elements: samatha fixes exclusively on earth as object until the mind calms, without investigating surrounding causes and conditions. But samādhi must fix and analyze the causes, origins, and processes of that thing. While analyzing and contemplating the origin and process, mindfulness slips for an instant, the mind merges into bhavaṅga, becoming Jhāna. Those with prior training may then know and see various things – past lives, what they did, what they were – and become delighted, turning samādhi contemplation into Jhāna.

Those with sharp wisdom, with prior habit of such contemplation, when mindfulness slips momentarily into Jhāna and knows various things, instantly realize: "Oh, this knowledge is not freedom from suffering; it's knowledge that keeps one attached to suffering, merely illuminating the reality of saṃsāra." They don't get deluded. They contemplate that knowledge as saṃsāra, wearisome – being born, one must wander endlessly like this. Therefore, we should strive for liberation. This is called turning Jhāna mind back into samādhi.

While contemplating the four elements, or focusing on the mind alone to merge into bhavaṅga, at some moments the mind may turn to contemplate the Three Characteristics, seeing that this mind is impermanent – sometimes under our control, sometimes not. Thus, this mind is not worth clinging to. Then let go, make the mind neutral, not clinging to past or future as objects, neutral to all objects – whether good or bad, coarse or subtle, pleasant or painful, praise or blame. Make the mind neutral towards all these, aware that the mind is neutral. This is called turning Jhāna mind into samādhi.

Knowledge Arising from Jhāna

While fixing on a physical form like the four elements, or a mental phenomenon like the mind, without analyzing anything else besides the single object, as the mind inclines solely towards peace, the mind may lose mindfulness and plunge into bhavaṅga. Sometimes one is aware, half-conscious; sometimes it disappears completely, and one knows things spontaneously. If one has the tendency and merit from past practice, one may see various things – what one was in a past life, what one did here or there, having been a disciple or teacher, parent, child, spouse, or friend to each other.

When Jhāna produces knowledge and vision, the mind must first reach 'vibrating life-continuum' (bhavaṅga-calana) before it arises. When it arises, it may be true or false according to the nature of ordinary worldlings, and it declines quickly because it is directed outward, grasping external objects as a dwelling. Therefore, Jhāna and Abhiññā are not to be underestimated.

Some people think they are great, ruin themselves without realizing it. Many practitioners are often deluded by Jhāna. When the mind unifies into Jhāna and produces various knowledge, they think they have reached the end of the holy life. Or when the mind unifies into stillness without any object due to lack of wisdom to contemplate, they think they are free of defilements. Then the bell often rings by itself.

For samādhi to produce Abhiññā, the mind must first reach access concentration (upacāra-samādhi) before knowing. When knowing, one is not excited by it; one knows neutrally, like knowing external things. Then one takes that knowledge and vision to analyze what is appropriate and inappropriate before deciding to believe.

Unlike knowledge in Jhāna, which tends to believe everything seen or known, leading to mistakes. Most samādhi practitioners practice for liberation from suffering; Abhiññā is merely an accessory. Unless truly necessary, they don't use it.

Sometimes, one becomes delighted seeing heavenly realms and thinks it would be fun to be reborn there. Returning to human state with children and novices practicing, one might playfully contemplate them as glowing gold, then become self-satisfied. When the mind enters vibrating bhavaṅga, it fabricates various things, easily deluding the unmindful. Ultimately, it can decline because it's mundane Jhāna. But some can maintain it long or not decline at all, but their mindfulness is poor, prone to lapses. If a layperson can achieve that, it's considered fortunate. But if a monk does it, it's highly inappropriate and difficult to correct. Such people have one-sided views. If not corrected properly, they persist stubbornly. If corrected by someone with shared experience at the right point, it can disappear instantly.

If one is mindful, analyzing physical and mental phenomena with thorough mindfulness: "These physical and mental phenomena are constantly present in every human being. Born as a human, the four elements are complete. No need to find them elsewhere. What exists is already abundant, difficult to manage and provide for one's needs. Besides external food like rice and dishes – how much is consumed daily – internal food must be provided for the eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind, never full or satisfied. These things all arise from form and mind. These two combined spin according to the world, endlessly."

The wise, seeing this clearly with their own wisdom, gather all these things into the single mind: they arise from the single mind. If the mind didn't exist, those things wouldn't arise. Therefore, one should guard the mind to keep it under one's control, not sending it to cling to external things, except sometimes. When one can guard the mind thus, the mind does not follow the power of defilements. Then one sees the face of defilements clearly. Seeing defilements at all times like this, the mind converges into the heart, knowing that one is neutral, with nothing at all. This state can last as long as desired.

The mind tends to go outward. Therefore, practicing samādhi using body and mind as object and meditation subject is most suitable for seeing oneself and abandoning the view of self (attānudiṭṭhi), because the view of self is a great danger for samādhi practitioners. Seeing oneself as merely elements, as foulness, as subject to death, greatly abandons the view of self. Contemplating thus, over time, it becomes clear with wisdom in one's own heart. Then one becomes weary of one's own body. The mind automatically releases and lets go, converging into the heart, aware that there is nowhere else to go, then remaining neutral in the midst of all things.

Know the mind, it doesn't stay; catch up with the mind, then it stays

The mind, which fabricates countless perceptions and objects – sometimes beneficial, sometimes useless – causes much confusion and unease for the thinker.

The mind that thinks only of a single object until firm – called samādhi – gives rise to wisdom that analyzes reasons for what should and shouldn't be done, greatly benefiting oneself and others. But this requires strong samādhi to first catch the 'knower' before one can keep up with the mind's thoughts about various limitless things. Without strong samādhi, unable to catch the knower, the thinking mind scatters endlessly. That is not wisdom but ordinary perception.

Hence the saying: "Following the mind never catches the mind itself." Like tracking a cow, you must catch up with the mind itself. Then the mind stays and converges into the heart. There is only the knower, neutral, without any fabrication of perceptions or objects.

Samādhi, when practiced correctly, unifies into one

Whatever method or tradition of samādhi practice, if the mind is set correctly – meaning purity of heart – one must first make the mind neutral, without any defilements mixed in. When the mind is neutral and still, most certainly, the mind of an ordinary worldling will seek out defilements to mix with the mind, using the six sense bases as media connecting with the whole world, to mix with one's mind.

One who trains their mind to reach neutral mind will clearly see that all defilements enveloping the mind arise from the mind seeking them out. Born in the sensual realm (kāmabhava), one is obsessed with sensual defilements. All those defilements have sensual defilement (kāma-kilesa) as their foundation. Born as a human, one must work for a living to survive, whether for oneself or others – all have sensuality as a basis.

Even as an ordained renunciant, sensuality follows constantly. As seen in some individuals who behave in ways aligned with sensual defilements – clearly, their behavior is not for liberation from suffering; they are obsessed with sensual defilements throughout their ordained life, because they haven't trained their mind to be free from taints, thus never seeing the neutral, equanimous mind. They constantly carry a heavy burden.

Practitioners who make the mind firm on one object will see the defilements in their own mind at all times – how coarse or subtle, thick or thin they arise in the mind, from what cause, and by what method the mind becomes pure and clear. Constantly investigating their own defilements, the defilements will diminish, and the mind will become progressively clearer. Ultimately, all those turbulent minds have sensual defilement as their foundation. Defilements arise at the mind. The mind is the seeker. When the mind stops seeking, it converges into the heart – the neutral middle, equanimous, and aware of being equanimous. This is the culmination of practice in Buddhism, consistent with the Buddha's words: "All great and small rivers flow into the ocean. Having flowed into the ocean, they have one taste: saltiness. So too, the Dhamma of the Tathāgata."

Samādhi by Contemplating the Aggregates as Suffering (Khandha-dukkha)

This lump of suffering, from the moment the five aggregates assemble, continuously displays suffering without end. From conception in the womb as a clear drop of oil, progressing to blood and a blood clot, then breaking into the five aggregates – two arms, two legs, one head – until birth as a human.

First born, weighing a few kilograms, then displaying growing suffering, unable to bear the condition, so it transforms in stages, displaying impermanence – unable to remain the same.

Nothing in this world can be forced under one's control; everything follows its own nature. Whether one rejoices or grieves, suffers or is happy over these things, those things themselves don't care about those people. "I have my function, I perform my function," as if to say: "You are deluded and foolish, therefore you grasp me as self, and thus suffer endlessly." Consistent with the Buddha's words in the Bhārasutta: The five aggregates are truly suffering, not untrue. From the moment the four elements assemble into a lump arising in the mother's womb, they become the mother's burden in every way. Upon birth, the mother, nurses, and nannies nurture and raise it until it grows and can rely on itself, running and playing with friends, yet still under the mother's watchful eye, like a mother cow raising her calf.

Everyone born into this world must accept that it is truly a burden. But human instinct still clings to that burden for various reasons, such as upbringing. Otherwise, we wouldn't continue living to do good. In truth, grasping at anything in the world is suffering. Therefore, letting go of the burden "by inner ingenuity" is supreme happiness. Having let go of this heavy burden, not deludedly grasping other burdens again, that person is called one who has uprooted craving along with its roots, ended agitation, extinguished the fire of defilements and the fire of suffering.

All sufferings in this world – birth, aging, illness, death, etc. – arise from the five aggregates. When there are five aggregates, there must be suffering inherent to them: organs, diseases specific to each part – head, arms, legs, hands, feet – each with its own inherent disease to treat. "A snake without feet doesn't need to treat its feet; a crab without a head doesn't need to treat its head. But a person with wind disease should be careful; eating crab paste often causes headache."

All these sufferings are constantly present in the human body, differing only in whether they flare up much or little. If they flare up much, much suffering; if little, little suffering. Another type of suffering: having been born, one must create and produce things; if not, one cannot live with others. That is the search for the four necessities: 1) food for sustenance, 2) clothing to cover the body against cold and heat, 3) shelter, 4) medicine for illness. These four are absolutely necessary to find when needed. But some people find more than needed, hoarding until no space left, selling for money, which multiplies suffering a hundred-thousandfold. This is called pariyesanā-dukkha – suffering due to seeking.

There is another type called 'arriving suffering' (āgantuka-dukkha) – being pricked by thorns, bruised, stung by insects, struck by external enemies, surrounded by illness, paralyzed, unable to go anywhere. All these are suffering.

Thus, this body we obtained is a lump of suffering, not a good thing at all. Every movement of the body moves because it cannot stay still; it moves not to find happiness but to change suffering – changing from sitting too long to standing, from standing to lying down, even while sleeping it turns over. In conclusion, being born into this world is entirely suffering, without any happiness. Happiness exists only for those deluded into taking suffering as happiness. Hence the Buddha said: "This world, nothing exists besides suffering that arises and ceases."

Because Samādhi is the foundation, suffering becomes the Noble Truth of Suffering (Dukkha-sacca)

Contemplate this body with foulness, etc., culminating in the five aggregates – all converge into suffering. Contemplating until skilled and fluent, it becomes the Noble Truth of Suffering, because samādhi is the firm, unshakable foundation. One sees this suffering as truly suffering; no one can say it is otherwise. It is real, true, unchanging. Born into this world, there is only suffering, no happiness at all. What is called happiness is when a person deludedly sees suffering as happiness. For example, changing the four postures – because of suffering, one changes posture; changing because suffering is great; changing to alleviate great suffering, not to make it disappear.

Every profession and occupation converges into the four necessities – seeking them is to alleviate suffering. While seeking, there is suffering of seeking. Having obtained, there is suffering of preserving, of preparing (like cooking food to eat). But hunger and desire compel one to act, and one even delights in those actions.

Finally, when done, one enjoys eating, delighting in the tastes – spicy, salty, sweet, sour – as happiness. In truth, moving body parts to put rice in the mouth, etc., all display suffering. If one is fully satiated physically and mentally, sitting and watching those who are hungry eating appears quite amusing, like watching a stage drama. Suffering is real, true, unchangeable into anything else, thus it is a Truth (sacca).

The origin (Samudaya) that causes suffering is another real, true Truth, affirmed by the wise as genuine. But those who don't know may not understand because Samudaya is mental, hard to see. Samudaya arises from desire – longing for, delighting in things. Born in the sensual realm and world, it's hard to see Samudaya itself, like smoke covering one's head, making it hard to see external things. Just as those outside can clearly see the smoke, those born in this sensual world and realm find it hard to contemplate and see Samudaya itself.

Sensual craving (kāma-taṇhā) – desire, delight in what one wants – is the cause of suffering. The more suffering, the more desire increases sequentially, and suffering multiplies accordingly. Like a rope tying a pig's leg: the more it struggles, the tighter it binds, until the skin breaks, flesh breaks, down to the bone. This is called craving for existence (bhava-taṇhā) – wanting to be, wanting to have beyond limits. When suffering increases, one doesn't want that suffering, then becomes more agitated and distressed – suffering from wanting to be or wanting to have. Wanting to have is suffering; not wanting to have or be is also suffering. This is called craving for non-existence (vibhava-taṇhā). All suffering in this world lies within the sphere of these three defilements. This is called the Noble Truth of the Origin (Samudaya-sacca) – the cause and condition for suffering, real and true, cannot be otherwise.

The Noble Truth of Suffering is common to all people and beings

Nirodha – the cessation that abandons and uproots all defilements without remainder – necessarily relies on the Path (Magga) as a guide to achieve its goal. The Path has eight components:

  1. Sammā-diṭṭhi (Right View): Seeing that humans are born because of karma; good and bad karma exist; whoever does what karma receives its results. Belief aligned with reality that all things arise from causes and conditions. Pure conviction within one's own mind, free from the four biases (partiality due to desire, aversion, fear, ignorance).
  2. Sammā-saṅkappa (Right Thought): Thought aligned with reason within oneself that this cohabiting world is full of suffering, with the five strands of sensuality as its core, and turmoil as its habitat. Thinking to escape this world by proper means – not harming oneself or others.
  3. Sammā-vācā (Right Speech): One practicing samādhi has no verbal speech, only initial application (vitakka) – vitakka within one's own body, e.g., regarding aggregates and sense bases, they arise then age, sicken, die according to their nature; or vitakka about external things, e.g., humans are born then struggle with livelihood, then perish and die from this world, etc.
  4. Sammā-kammanta (Right Action): Similarly, while doing samādhi, the mind is calm, so why engage in busy work? The Path's work must be done only with the mind to be correct. The ten wholesome courses of action (kusalakammapatha) are categorized, and the five hindrances (nīvaraṇa) are classified as defilements. What should be preserved, what should be eliminated and abandoned.
  5. Sammā-ājīva (Right Livelihood): Similarly, while doing samādhi, how to earn a living? Right living through contemplating with in-and-out breathing until the mind unifies into one – that is called right livelihood or right living.
  6. Sammā-vāyāma (Right Effort): Effort in these four places: effort to abandon evil, effort to cultivate good, effort to preserve arisen good from decline, and effort to prevent unarisen evil from arising.
  7. Sammā-sati (Right Mindfulness): Maintaining right mindfulness constantly in the four foundations of mindfulness (satipaṭṭhāna) – mindfulness of body, feelings, mind, and phenomena – regardless of posture (standing, walking, sitting, lying down).
  8. Sammā-samādhi (Right Concentration): Making right concentration firm on the meditation object, attaining Jhāna and samādhi consistently, able to enter and exit anytime.

These eight Path factors are necessary to point the way for complete cessation of suffering.

Nirodha (cessation) and Samudaya (origin) – to balance them: Samudaya, the cause of suffering, has three: sensual craving, craving for existence, craving for non-existence. Nirodha should also be three: the eightfold Path divided into three groups – Right View and Right Thought as the wisdom group; Right Speech, Right Action, Right Livelihood as the morality group; Right Effort, Right Mindfulness, Right Concentration as the concentration group. The arising and ceasing of suffering both have three, perfectly balanced. This is called the Noble Truth of Suffering, true for all people and beings.

The Four Noble Truths still exist; Path, Fruition, Nibbāna do not disappear from the world

The Four Noble Truths taught by the Buddha in the Dhammacakkappavattana Sutta – he showed knowledge and vision to the Noble Ones listening at that time. Upon hearing, knowledge arose at that moment. Hence, they are called the Noble Truth of Suffering, the Noble Truth of the Origin of Suffering, the Noble Truth of the Cessation of Suffering, the Noble Truth of the Path leading to the Cessation of Suffering – real and true for those Noble Ones.

In truth, these four real and true things have existed constantly in the world from time immemorial. Whether those people know and see them or not, these four things are deathless themselves. To explain another way for ordinary people to understand easily: the Truth of Suffering, the Truth of Origin, the Truth of Cessation, the Truth of the Path. Consistent with the Buddha's words: "Whether the Buddha arises in the world or not, the element of Dhamma, the stability of Dhamma, the orderliness of Dhamma (dhammadhātu, dhammaṭṭhiti, dhammaniyāma) has existed from time immemorial." Even after the Buddha's Nibbāna, he did not take those Dhammas with him; they simply become undiscovered.

Suffering is a good thing. People of the world don't like suffering, so they don't see Dhamma. The Buddha and his disciples raised suffering as an object. As he said: "Suffering is to be comprehended" – not to be discarded. Even if you wanted to discard it, to whom would you give it? Everyone has it fully and completely in these five aggregates. Samudaya is mental, so one should investigate to see it. Then it will abandon suffering by itself, because clear knowledge arises from a neutral, equanimous mind that doesn't take sides before deciding. That is true Dhamma, hence named "the Dhamma-science of the world."

Suffering is comparable to happiness. Without suffering for comparison, how would one know happiness? Like white and black as mutual comparisons. Hence the Buddha said: "Dhammakāmo bhavaṃ hoti" – one who delights in Dhamma prospers. "Dhammadessī parājayo" – one who despises Dhamma is defeated.

Vipassanā (Insight)

Vipassanā means contemplating to see things as they truly are in all aspects of our physical form. For example, seeing this body as earth, water, fire, air – see it truly as earth, water, fire, air, not as entirely earth alone, or fire blazing throughout the body. That kind of seeing is through Jhāna factors with counterpart nimitta as basis. Seeing with insight wisdom requires samādhi as foundation. Lacking samādhi or with weak samādhi, insight definitely does not arise. Samādhi must be firm, then contemplating vipassanā becomes clear, deeply touching the heart without doubt.

Seeing with insight wisdom: seeing that this human body is merely the four elements; seeing all solid things in the body as the earth element; bones and hard things are just bones, but they are the earth element; blood is just blood, but it is the water element, pervading the entire body; the fire element is warmth, present in the earth and water elements; when those two elements disintegrate, the fire element disintegrates too. Similarly for the air element: while alive, there is in-and-out breathing, pervading the whole body, enabling survival; without in-and-out breathing, death occurs.

Even external things – animals, plants, mountains, termite mounds – similarly, except some have mind and consciousness and can move, while others are static and immobile. All consist of the four elements. Arising from the four elements initially, they change in the middle, and finally disintegrate. Then they arise again, change again, and cease again into earth, water, fire, air – endlessly.

This mind-spirit that comes to dominate the body then grasps it as 'mine,' 'my body,' causing various defilements, leading to quarrels, violence, and killing. Externally, it's clearly seen that the four elements destroy each other. The angry, hateful mind – no one knows, no one sees – is non-self (anattā). Having arisen, it ends in death.

Clear seeing with insight, when seen, allows one to become equanimous, making the mind neutral – unlike according to scriptures or memorized perceptions. Seeing through discursive thinking is easily forgotten; one must recite and memorize to remember.

Seeing with Jhāna involves specifically fixing on an object, often producing a counterpart image exceeding reality – e.g., seeing the contemplated body as entirely rotting, putrid, and believing it absolutely, even regretting to the point of tears. Seeing with perverted perception (saññā-vipallāsa) is similar.

Insight wisdom sees through analyzing causes and effects, not believing one-sidedly. It believes through external vision – eyes see reality – and believes through Jhāna – mind knows and sees its reality – thus ending doubt.

Vipassanā requires Samādhi as foundation

Vipassanā requires samādhi as its basis to arise. If not, insight wisdom will definitely not arise. With firm, stable samādhi, insight wisdom contemplating that Dhamma or event becomes clear and sees reality. Without samādhi as basis, it's called "vipassanūpakkilesa" (or a 'vipassanā-ick'): one thinks and speculates according to one's moods without bound. Thinking until exhausted, no sense of urgency or essence arises; it does not deserve the name 'cultivating insight for liberation.' It wastes time sitting in contemplation for nothing.

In truth, insight wisdom has been cultivated from the very beginning, from the initial recitation meditation. At that stage, wisdom was still weak, cultivating for the mind to unify into samādhi, so it wasn't called insight wisdom. Actually, it is insight wisdom itself. If not insight wisdom, how could the mind unify into samādhi? For example, reciting maraṇasati: "Death, death, death" – contemplating death as object, "I will certainly die" until seeing clearly with mind and wisdom. That is insight wisdom. Then the mind gradually unifies.

Similarly for other meditation subjects, or contemplating this body as suffering, impermanent, non-self – as suffering, not-self, uncontrollable, unresponsive to requests – all these are insight wisdom, because all Dhammas are interconnected.

Like an old person: it's the same child that becomes old, not a different old person. Or a ripe mango: it comes from a small, bitter, astringent mango which then ripens into a sweet mango. Similarly, insight meditation arises from recitation and contemplation until reaching momentary concentration (khaṇika-samādhi) up to absorption concentration (appanā-samādhi), then attaining insight wisdom. One cannot cut off samādhi at a certain stage; that would be 'vipassanā-ick' as described.

Path-possessor (Maggasamaṅgī) or One-time Realization (Ekābhisamaya)

Maggasamaṅgī, or Ekābhisamaya, arises from practicing samādhi and cultivating insight until fully skilled and proficient. One who is skilled in Jhāna absorption and fluent in samādhi contemplation, able to enter and exit at will, or who contemplates insight wisdom until penetrating thoroughly – when these things are to occur, they will converge by themselves into Maggasamaṅgī, without anyone composing them. Even the Buddha himself could not compose it. It occurs through one's own power, having fully cultivated the Dhammas described. If it causes itself to happen, like a ripe mango, except for those of swift intuition (khippābhiññā) who realize quickly.

The eightfold Noble Path, starting with Right View and ending with Right Concentration – one who cultivates samādhi until the mind is firmly established on a single object, unmoved and unshaken in every way.

Maggasamaṅgī occurs when the Dhammas – recitation meditation, etc., as described – are fully complete, with morality, concentration, and wisdom balanced, neither exceeding nor lacking. It is not intended to occur, but with the completeness of Dhammas, it occurs by itself. It occurs for all eight Path factors in a single mind-moment. At the moment of occurrence, the mind becomes extremely clear and luminous. All Dhammas and the entire world appear in that single place. Incomparable knowledge arises, but the mind does not go out to that knowledge; it remains firmly established on the single object. That knowledge cannot be explained to others, nor can others explain it to us, because that knowledge is personal (paccattaṃ), known only to oneself. This type of knowledge arises only in each individual's respective plane; it is not common to others. That knowledge arises in a single mind-moment and then disappears, not arising again for that same Path, for every Path and every plane of Noble Ones, always the same. That mind-moment is called Maggasamaṅgī – the Path unified as one, or Ekābhisamaya (same realization). That knowledge is truly wonderful, to the extent that the Buddha said: "Wonderful! This Dhamma, which has never arisen to me, has now arisen."

Where does the mind go after emerging from Maggasamaṅgī?

When the mind unifies into Maggasamaṅgī for a single mind-moment, that mind then emerges and runs according to the current of saṃsāra – sensuality, etc. – which is its resultant (vipāka). But the Noble One's mind does not get deluded by it. They have firm mindfulness, contemplating and seeing reality in every way. Explanation: Noble Ones of every stage and plane, before attaining Maggasamaṅgī, have fully contemplated and known the virtues and faults of saṃsāra – sensual pleasures, sensual defilements, and their supports. Therefore, when their mind emerges from Maggasamaṅgī, even if the mind runs according to its nature, it does not delude the Noble One's mind; rather, it further strengthens their mind, as they have already seen its faults.

All practitioners who practice correctly according to the Dhamma-discipline and teachings of the Buddha must proceed through the stages of the Path practice as prescribed by the Buddha, as described here for everyone – except those of swift intuition (khippābhiññā). But even they, after reaching the end of the holy life, still have the sequence correctly and without error.

Whatever manner practitioners practice in this religion, if they practice correctly, they will ultimately converge at Maggasamaṅgī. This is called the end of practice in Buddhism.

[End of "Good Things Exist in Buddhism" by Luang Pu Thate Desaraṅsī]