64. The Eight Worldly Conditions
By Luang Pu Thate Desaraṅsī
November 9, 1988
The eight worldly conditions are things that constantly exist in the world. The world and Dhamma go together. The teaching is not to hold onto the worldly conditions, but to engage with them properly, to let them go. Gain and loss—the teaching says that gain is worldly, loss is Dhamma. They are two separate things: the worldly way and the Dhamma way.
Now, when a worldly condition arises, we use Dhamma to counteract it—that is, loss. Dhamma is something to be relinquished, abandoned, and allowed to fade away—not clung to as "me" or "mine." We practice inwardly, seeing clearly within ourselves. When we can let go, that is called practicing the eight worldly conditions correctly. If you study and then practice so that you realize and see the truth within yourself, as described, that is correct. Among these eight worldly conditions, practicing just this one point—once you have it, it covers all eight—means you are practicing correctly. Gain and loss, status and loss of status, praise and blame, pleasure and pain—they come in pairs. For each pair, practice penetrating the mind until you see clearly for yourself. That is called practicing correctly, following the Buddha's teaching.
Consider all of us here—everyone should take these eight conditions and practice them until they become clear and evident within, until you see clearly for yourselves. How much happiness would that bring to yourselves and others? But if you study a lot and don't put it into practice, it becomes useless and messy. That is why Buddhism does not flourish.
The teaching is to know how to distinguish. Actually, the world and Dhamma are one and the same. The world is the measuring stick for Dhamma. If there were no world, what would we use as a measure? The arising of gain is the world—it is the measure. Gain and loss—how does loss occur? It is impermanence, suffering, not-self. These states arise and cease, arise and cease. That is the Dhamma as measure. In truth, both the world and Dhamma exist that way; they do not deteriorate or go anywhere. They have existed like this since time immemorial. Gain exists that way, loss exists that way. Even when the Buddha arose, he did not bring them with him. When the Buddha passed away, he did not take them with him. But when the Buddha arose, he came to see, to know, to understand these things. When he passed away, he did not take them—he left them just as they were.
It has been over two thousand years. All of us born later come to practice so that we see and clearly realize the Dhamma: when gain arises, then loss occurs. We should know and see the truth. When we see, Dhamma does not disappear anywhere—it exists that way all the time. But we see it clearly with our own minds. Even if we practice later—whether the Buddha passed away thousands or tens of thousands of years ago—it still exists as it has since time immemorial. No matter how many hundreds or thousands of Buddhas arose, they did not bring it with them. They simply contemplated and saw this.
Thus, it is said: Dhamma is vast, boundless, profound, and subtle. It is seen with one's own mind. Whether others agree or not, we practice and see it for ourselves, right within ourselves. Take greed, for example—it is not a self or a substance. The wanting is a mental fabrication, striving to obtain what one desires. No one else sees it; you see it with your own mind. When you let it go, it's the same—you don't need to tell anyone. Even if you did, they wouldn't understand. That wanting is an obstruction within the mind, a covering that prevents you from thinking or sensing anything else. There is only that single aspiration, the mind fixed solely on that object—dark, blocked, confined to that alone.
But when you relinquish greed, then that is Dhamma. And you see your own greed—you see clearly that it is a covering. When you let go, you see the mind as bright, clean, free from defilement. You see this clearly for yourself. That is Dhamma. It does not shrink or expand. We see it, and that is enough. The Buddha's teaching is like this—since time immemorial, it is deathless. The Buddha's Dhamma does not die, does not arise, does not cease. When it is said that Dhamma arises because the Buddha realized it, Dhamma does not actually arise—it has always been there. It does not arise like a tree or a mountain. But because the Buddha knew it, we say it arose. When he passed away and no one knew that Dhamma, we say it ceased. In truth, it is the Buddha who passed away. Whoever arises later and knows it knows it for themselves. If that person passes away, it is that person who passes away—Dhamma does not cease.