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Sunday, March 8, 2015
Mahakassapa Mahathera
Disciples Of The Buddha: Mahakassapa Mahathera: (a) Aspiration expressed in the past. A hundred thousand aeons ago the Buddha Padumuttara arose and, with the city of Hamsavatias his a...
Mahakassapa Mahathera
Disciples Of The Buddha: Mahakassapa Mahathera: (a) Aspiration expressed in the past. A hundred thousand aeons ago the Buddha Padumuttara arose and, with the city of Hamsavatias his a...
Tuesday, May 6, 2014
THE BUDDHA'S VIEW ON MEAT EATING
By:- Venerable
Dhammavuddho Thero
INTRODUCTION
Meat eating is a very
sensitive topic. There are many different views on this and each may be right
to a certain extent, but they may not necessarily be wise. In this case, we
should put aside our personal views and be open enough to look at the Buddha's
views. This is crucial as he is the Tathagata who knows and sees.
The Suttas and Vinaya will
be our source of reference because in AN 4.180, the Buddha said that if some
monk claimed that such and such were the words of the Buddha, those words
should be compared to the Suttas (Discourses) and Vinaya (moastic discipline).
Only if they conform to the Suttas and Vinaya can they be accepted to be the
Buddha's words.
The next consideration is
which Sutta and Vinaya should we refer to? Although various school of Buddhism
have different interpretations of the Buddha's teachings, all generally agree
that the four Nikayas (collections), namely, the Digha Nikaya, Majjhima Nikaya,
Samyutta Nikaya, and Anguttara Nikaya, and few books of the Khuddaka Nikaya,
are the earliest authentic discourses of the Buddha. Furthermore, these
earliest books are consistent throughout with the flavour of liberation, while
later books sometimes give contradictory teachings.
The Vinaya books of he
different schools of Buddhism are all quite similar to the Theravada Vinaya.
For this reason, the earliest Suttas and Theravada Vinaya will be our source of
reference.
SUTTA REFFERENCES
Majjhima Nikaya 55
This discourse is
particularly important because it is here that the Buddha clearly stated his
position on meat eating.
The King’s physician, Jivaka Komarabhacca, came to see the Buddha. After
paying homage, he said; “Venerable sir, I have heard this: ‘They slaughter
living beings for the monk Gotama (i.e. the Buddha); the monk Gotama knowingly
eats meat prepared for him from animals killed for his sake'...."; and
asked if this was true.
The Buddha denied this, adding "Jivaka,
I say that there are three instances in which meat should not be eaten: when it
is seen, heard, or suspected (that the living being has been specifically
slaughtered for oneself)... I say that there are three instances in which meat
may be eaten: when it is not heard, or suspected (that living beng has been
specifically slaughtered for oneself)..."
Furthermore, the Buddha added: "If anyone slaughters a living being
for the Tathagata (i.e. Buddha) or his disciple, he lays up much demerit in
five instances... (i) When he says:'Go and fetch that living being'... (ii)
When that living being experiences pain and grief on being led along with a
neck-halter... (iii) When he says: 'Go and slaughter that living being'... (iv)
When that living bieng experiences pain and grief on being slaughter... (v)
When he provides the Tathagata or his disciple with food that is not
permissible..."
So we find that hte Buddha distinguishes between meat that is allowable
with the three conditions versus that which is not. This is the most important
criterion concerning meat eating.
Anguttara Nikaya 8.12
The General Siha, a Nigantha
follower, was converted to the Buddhist eligion after he learnt the Dhamma from
the Buddha.
He invited the Buddha and the order of monks to his house the next day for meal, and served
meat and other food. The Niganthas, out of jealousy that such a prominent and
influential lay person had gone over to the Buddha's camp, spread the rumour
that the General Sinha had killed a huge animal and cooked it for the Gotama,
"...and the monk Gotama is going to eat the meat, knowing that it was
meant for him, that he deed was done on his account."
When news of this came to the General's ear, he denied their allegations,
saying: "... For a long time these reverend sirs (Niganthas) have longed
to disparage the Buddha... Dhamma... Sangha; but they do no harm to the Exalted
One by their wicked, vain, lying, untruthful sanders. Not for the sake of
sustaining life would we intentionally deprive any being of life."
This is one of the discourses which clearly shows that the Buddha and his
monks ate meat. Also, we see that meat from an animal that is already dead when
it is purchased is allowed to be used, but not if the animal is alive.
Anguttara Nikaya 5.44
This is about a layman,
Ugga, who offered several good things to the Buddha; among them was pork cooked
with jujube fruit which was accepted by the Buddha. Again, it is evident that
the Buddha and his disciples took meat.
Sutta Nipata 2.2
Here the Buddha recalled an
incident in his previous life during the Buddha Kassapa's time. Buddha Kassapa
was his teacher then.
It was an occasion when an external sect ascetic met the Buddha Kassapa and
reviled him for meat, which he said is a stench compared to eating vegetarian
food.
Buddha Kassapa replied: "Killing ... wounding... stealing, lyng,
deceivng... adutery; this is stench. Not the eating of meat.
... Those who are rude arrogant, backbiting, treacherous, unknd...
miserly... this is stench. Not the eating of meat.
...Anger, pride, obstinancy, antagonism, deceit, envy, boasting... this s
stench. Not the eating of meat.
... Those who are of bad morals, ... slanderous... pretentious... beng the
vilest of men, commt such wrong things; this is stench. Not the eatng of
meat..."
VINAYA REFERENCES
Patimokkha: Pacittiya 39
In the monestic discipline,
a monk is not allowed to ask for preferential food. However, an exception is
allowed in the Patimokkha (Monk's Percepts) when the monk s unwel. Under such
circumstances, the monk is allowed to ask for dairy products, oil, honey,
sugar, fish, meat... Clearly, fish and meat were allowed to the monks.
Books of the Discipline:
Book Four
In the Mahavagga, ten types
of meat were prohibited to monks: human, elephant, horse, dog, hyena, snake,
bear, lion, tiger, and pamnther. We can infer ffrom this that the meat of other
animals was allowed, provided the three condtions for 'allowed meat' are
fulflled, eg. pork, beef, chicken, etc.
Books of the Discipline:
Book four
Clear meat soup is allowed
to a sick monk.
Books of the Discipline:
Book One
Some monks were descending
the slopes of Vulture's Peak. They saw the remains of a lin's kill, had it
cooked, and ate it. At other times, other monks saw the remains of a tiger's
kill... remains of a panther's kil...etc had it cooked, and ate.
Later the monks were unsure if it had amounted to stealing from the lion,
tiger, panther, etc. The Buddha excused them by saying that there is no offence
in taking what belongs to animals. Here again we see that monks ate meat and
the Buddha did not criticize or disapprove of t.
Books of the Discipline:
Book Two
This was an incident when
the Arahant nun Uppalavanna was offered some cooked meat. The next morning,
having prepared the meat at the nunnery, she went to where the Buddha was
living to offer it to him. A monk, on behalf of the Buddha, accepted the
offering and said she had pleased the Buddha.
It is clear that the Buddha ate meat; otherwise the Arahant nun would not
have offered it.
Books of the Discipline:
Book Five
The monk Devadatta schemed
to divide the community of monks by asking the Buddha to implement five rules,
one of which was that monks should not be allowed to eat fish and meat.
The Buddha refused, saying: "Fish and meat are completely pure in
respect of three points: if they are not seen, heard, or suspected (to have
been killed specifically for oneself)."
The Buddha taught that monk should be easily supported. If a monk refuses
to eat certain types of food (whether meat or vegetarian) then he is not easily
supported.
REASONS THE BUDDHA ALLOWED MEAT EATING
No Direct Kamma of Kiing
The Buddha said: "Fish
and meat are completey pure (parisuddha)..." means that there is no
direct kamma (intentional deed) of killing if the animal was not seen, heard,
or suspected to have been killed specifically for oneself.
Without these three conditions, unwholesome kamma is involved and,
therefore, that type of meat is not allowable.
Although the Buddha allowed meat eating, he said in AN 4.261 that we do
create unwholesome kamma if we irectly encourage killing, approve or speak in
praise of it. Hence in AN 5.177 the Buddha said that a lay person should not
trade in flesh, which the Commentary explains as breeding and selling pigs,
deer, (cattle, chickens,) etc (for slaughter). Also, it is not allowed to place
an order for say ten chockens the next day if it means that those amount of
animals will be slaughtered for one.
Vegetarianism Not Compatible
with the Buddhist Monk's
Lifestyle
A monk is supposed to go on
almsround (beggng) for his meal unless he is (i) invited to a meal, (ii) the
meal is brought to the monastey, or (iii) the meal s cooked in the monastery.
He is not alowed to cooked food, store food overnight, or engage in cornerstones
of a Buddhist monk'sifestyle.
This can be seen in a Buddhist country (e.g. Thailand) where a monk has the
freedom and support to ractise totally in conformty with the Buddha's
teachings. There we see not only forest monks going on almsround but also town
and city monks begging for food everyday.
Since a beggar must not be a chooser, as the saying goes, vegetarianism is
ncompatibe wth the Buddhist monk's ifestyle -- which was probably another
reason why the Buddha rejected Devadatta's request as mentined previously.
However the Buddha also said that if a monk does not get sufficient or
nutrtious food, he should depart from that place.
Arument of Demand and Supply
Some argue that even with
the three conditions mentioned one is blameworthy because eating meat creates
the demand which has to be suppied by the killing of animals. In other words,
eating meat under any circumstances encourages the kiling of anmals.
We must be clear here that there are two types of cause and effect: (i)
worldy cause and effect, where intention is not involved, and (ii) Buddhist
kamma-vipaka, or intention is not involves only worldly cause and effect, and
there is no kamma of kiling. Eating unallowable meat involves unwholesome kamma
and, hence, its vipaka. Hence meat eating must be clearly divided into to
classes.
The argumeant of demand and supply is not a valid one. On this planet, a
great number of human beings and countless animals are killed by motor vehicles
everyday. Just by driving vehicles or even sitting in them, we are encouraging
the motor industry to make more motor vehicles. If we use the demand and supply
argument, then just by using motor vehicles we are encouraging the killing of
countless animals and great number of human being on the roads everyday --
which is worse than eating meat!
It is true that we are indirectly involved n the kling of animals but, as
explained, there is no kamma-vipaka of killing. This indirect involvement in
killing is true whether we eat meat or not, and is something which is unavoidable.
We shal discuss this bellow.
Eating Vegetarian Food also
Encourages Killing
We encourage killing even
when we eat vegetarian food. Every day monkeys, squirrels, foxes, flying foxes,
and other destructive pests are killed because they eat from fuit trees planted
by farmers. Vegetabe farmers also kill caterpilars, snails, worms,
grasshoppers, ants, and other insects, etc... Similarly, in Australia for
example, kangaroos and rabbits are killed everyday because they eat the corps.
Many items commonly used by just about everybody cost the lives of living
beings. For example, silk is made at the expense of the lives of countless
silkworms, and white shellac, of countless lac insects.
Cosmetics contain a huge range of annmal derived substances. Many food
additives, e.g. colourings, flovourings, sweeteners, also use animal derived
substances. Commercially, produced cheese uses rennet which is extracted from
calves' stomach to make the milk coagulate.
Leather and fur are of course made from the hides of animals, often
slaughtered for this purpose. Photographic film uses gelatin which s obtained
by boiling the skins, tendons, and bones of animals.
Even fertilzers for the vegetables and fruit trees often include dried,
ground fish bones, and other fish scraps. Also, the use of cow's milk and honey
nvolve much cruelty to the animals or nsects concerned.
All these go to show that it is very difficut not to be involved one way or
another in the cruelty inflicted on animals.
So if one does becmone a vegetarian, ne shoud refect on the above and
refrain from beng over-critical of those wh eat meat.
Animals Stil Killed Even if
All Humans Became
Vegetarians
Even if all humans became
vegetarians, animals will still be killed. This is because animals multiply so
much faster than humans that they could easily become a threat to human
survival.
For example many years ago, in some parts of Africa, elephants were
protected animals. But now they have multiplied sufficiently to become a
menace, and the protection laws have to be relaxed to reduce their numbers.
In some countries dogs without a tog/license are disposed of in case they
become rabid and attack humans. Evan the Societies for the Prevention of Cruety
to Animals kill millions of dogs and cats in shelters every year due to
insufficient accommodation --in USA, 14 million annually are put to death
within a week of being rescued by humane groups.
Ultmately, the idea that vegetarinism prevents the killing of animas is not
true. Nevertheless, it is praiseworthy to practise vegetarianism out of
compasson, but not to the extent of being extreme about it.
Everyone is Indirectly
Involved in the Killing of Animals
Whether we are vegetarins or
otherwise, we are all ndirectly nvolved in the killing of animals.
Large areas of forest have to be cleared to make housing estates because we
want to live in houses. This results in the death of great number of animals.
Because we want to use household goods and other modern conveniences, large
forest areas again have to be cleared for factory and industrial sites. Because
we want to have electricity, rivers are dammed to obtain hydro-electric power.
This resuts in the flooding of large areas of forest land at the expense of
animal lives.
Because we use motor vehcles, countless animals and a great number of human
bengs are killed on the roads everyday.
Again on account of our safety, stray dogs are disposed of in case they
become rabid. In the manufacture of various things that we use everyday, e.g.
food, medicines, silk, cosmetics, film, etc., animal-derived substances are used
at the expense of their lives.
If we use the demand and supply argument mentioned earier then we should
not live in a housing estate, or use household goods produced by factories, or
use electricity, etc.
Analogy of Serial Killer
Suppose we have a serial
killer n a certain city who has raped and killed many women so that no women
dares to venture outdoor at night. The whole city is in uproar and the citizens
demand that the authorities do their duty and catch the killer. So the police,
after several months of pains taking effort, finally nabs the culprit. After
this is a long tral and then the judge passes the death sentence on him. On the
appointed day the killer is led to the execution platform where the executioner
pulls the lever to end the killer's life.
All this now leads to the question: "Who is invoved in the evil kamma
of killing a human being (i.e. the serial killer)?" According to the law
of kamma-vipaka, the executioner bears the haviest offence because he
intentionally carried out the killing. Next would be the judge for pronouncung
the death sentence. These two persons are directly involved in the killing
kamma of the execution of the serial killer. The police are only indirectly
nvolved and not responsible for the execution. How about citizens? Ultimately
the serail killer was executed to protect the citizens, i.e. he was executed
for the sake of the citizens, or the citizens were the main beneficiaries did
not ask for the execution of the serial killer. But they could be if they
demanded his execution.
The scenario is similar to the slaughter of animals for food. The persons
who slaughter the animals bear the haviest killing kamma. The persons who breed
animals for slaughter are also involved in the killing kamma. They are like the
judge who condemned the man to be executed. But the people who buy the meat of
animals aready slaughtered are not involved in the kamma of killing even
though, like the citizens of the city above, they are the main beneficiaries.
But if someone orders a live animal to be slaughterd for its meat, then killing
kamma is involved for him.
'Chi Zhai', not 'Chi Su'
Many Chinese Buddhists
mistakenly think that Mahayana Buddhism teaches the practice of vegetarinsm,
and confuse 'Chi Su' (vegetarianism) with 'Chi Zhai' (not eating after noon
until the next dawn). In the early Suttas, 'Chi Su' is said to be the
unbeneficial ascetic practice of external sects. 'Chi Su' is practiced by Han
Chuan (Chinese Buddhism), not Bei Chuan (Mahayana Buddhism), since Tibetan and
Japanese Buddhists are not vegetarians. Chinese emperor Lian Wu Di commanded
Buddhist monks and nuns to eat vegetarian food.
The word 'Zhai' means not eating at certain hours, i.e. fasting. Thus the
Muslim fasting month of Pussa is called 'Kai Zhai'. The Buddha taught his
dsciples to 'Chi Zhai', .e. not to eat (with exception medical allowances) from
noon unti the next dawn (1 p.m. till 7 a.m. in Malaysia). In Han Chuan this
'Chi Zhai' became synonymous with 'Chi Su'
CONCLUSION
The Buddha did not encourage us to eat meat or become vegetarians. The
Choice is entirely up to us. The important point is to take to heart the Buddha
uideliness in MN 55 on the three conditions for unallowed and allowed meat.
A monk is not allowed to cook and has to be totally dependent on the
offerings of lay supporters. He is also taught that he should be easily
supported and looked after. Sine he is not allowed to ask for any preferential
food (except during sckness), a monk cannot choose his food. He has to accept
what is beng offered.
Lay people have more freedom to choose their food, and for lay people it is
entirely up to indvidual preferences when it comes to eating meat or becoming a
vegetarian. For the reasons already discussed, it is important not to be too
critical of others no matter what our preferences are.
The most effective way to reduce the killing and cruelty in the world s for
people to understand the Buddha's teaching. Ultmately, suffering (dukkha) is a
characteristic of life, and the way to end sufferng is to practise the Noble
Eightfold Path of the Buddha to get out of the rounds of rebirths.
Friday, November 22, 2013
The Radiant Mind Is Unawareness
by Venerable Acariya Maha Boowa Ñanasampanno
Translated from the Thai
Normally the mind is radiant and always ready to make contact with
everything of every sort. Although all phenomena without exception
fall under the laws of the three characteristics — stress,
inconstancy, and not-self — the true nature of the mind doesn't fall
under these laws.
The
extent to which the mind does follow these laws is because
the things that fall under these three characteristics come spinning
in and become involved with it, so that it goes spinning along with
them. Even then, though, it spins in a way that doesn't disintegrate
or fall apart. It spins with the things that have the power to make
it spin, but the natural power of the mind itself is that it
knows and does not die. This deathlessness is something that
lies beyond disintegration. This non-disintegration is something
that lies beyond the three characteristics and the common laws of
nature, but we're not aware of it because conventional realities
become involved with the mind and surround it, so that the mind's
behavior conforms thoroughly to theirs.
The
fact that we're unaware that birth and death are things that have
always been with the mind infected by defilement, is because
ignorance itself is an affair of defilement. Birth and death are
an affair of defilement. Our own true affair, the affair
that's ours pure and simple — the affair of the mind pure and simple
— is that we don't have the power to be our own true self. We
have been taking all sorts of counterfeit things as our self all
along, and so the mind's behavior is not in keeping with its true
nature. Its behavior falls under the sway of the deceits of
defilement, which make it worry and fear, dreading death, dreading
everything. Whatever happens — a little pain, a lot of pain — it's
afraid. If even the least little thing disturbs it, it's afraid. As
a result, the mind is filled with worries and fears. Even though
fear and worry aren't directly an affair of the mind, they still
manage to make it tremble.
We'll
see — when the mind is cleansed so that it is fully pure and nothing
can become involved with it — that no fear appears in the mind at
all. Fear doesn't appear. Courage doesn't appear. All that appears
is its own nature by itself, just its own timeless nature. That's
all. This is the genuine mind. 'Genuine mind' here refers only to
the purity or the 'saupadisesa-nibbana' of the arahants.
Nothing else can be called the 'genuine mind' without reservations
or hesitations. I, for one, would feel embarrassed to use the term
for anything else at all.
The
'original mind' means the original mind of the round in which the
mind finds itself spinning around and about, as in the Buddha's
saying, 'Monks, the original mind is radiant' — notice that — 'but
because of the admixture of defilements' or 'because of the
defilements that come passing through, it becomes darkened.'
The
original mind here refers to the origin of conventional realities,
not to the origin of purity. The Buddha uses the term
'pabhassaram' — 'pabhassaramidam cittam bhikkhave' —
which means radiant. It doesn't mean pure. The way he puts it is
absolutely right. There is no way you can fault it. Had he said that
the original mind is pure, you could immediately take issue: 'If the
mind is pure, why is it born? Those who have purified their minds
are never reborn. If the mind is already pure, why purify it?' Right
here is where you could take issue. What reason would there be to
purify it? If the mind is radiant, you can purify it because its
radiance is unawareness incarnate, and nothing else. Meditators will
see clearly for themselves the moment the mind passes from radiance
to mental release: Radiance will no longer appear. Right here is the
point where meditators clearly know this, and it's the point that
lets them argue — because the truth has to be found true in the
individual heart. Once a person knows, he or she can't help but
speak with full assurance.
Thus
the fact that our mind is surrounded, made to fear, to worry, to
love, to hate, or whatever, is caused entirely by the symptoms of
conventional reality, the symptoms of defilement. We have no mental
power of our own. We have only the power of defilement, craving, and
mental effluents pushing and pressuring us day and night while we
sit, stand, walk, and lie down. Where are we going to find any
happiness and ease as long as these things, which are constantly
changing, keep provoking the mind to change along with them without
our being aware of the fact?
There
can be no ease in this world — none at all — until these things can
be completely eradicated from the heart. Until then, we can have no
secure ease and relief in any way. We can only shift and change
about, or lean this way and that, depending on how much we're
provoked by the things that come and involve us. This is why the
Buddha teaches us to cleanse the mind, which is the same thing as
cleansing ourselves of suffering.
There
is no one who has genuinely penetrated the principles of the truth
like the Lord Buddha. Only he can be called 'sayambhu' — one
who needs no teaching or training from anyone else. In curing his
heart of defilement, he performed the duties of both student and
teacher, all by himself, until he awakened to the level of the
superlative Dhamma, becoming the superlative person, the superlative
Master.
This is
not to deny that on the level of concentration — the development of
mental stillness — he received training from the two hermits; but
that in itself wasn't the way of extrication leading to the level of
omniscience (sabbaññu). By the time he was to attain
omniscience, he had left the two hermits and was striving on his
own. He came to know the Dhamma on his own and to see on his own,
without anyone else's teaching him. He then brought that Dhamma to
teach the world so that it has known good and evil, heaven, hell,
and nibbana ever since. Had there been no one to teach us, we
of the world would be completely burdened with the mass of fire
filling our hearts and would never see the day when we could put our
burdens down.
This
being the case, we should appreciate the worth of the Dhamma that
the Buddha brought to the world after having endured hardships in a
way no one else in the world could have managed.
So now,
at present, what is it that covers the heart so that we can't find
its radiance and purity, even though each of us wants to find
purity. What conceals it? To answer in terms of natural principles,
we should start with the five khandhas. As for the 'mind of
unawareness,' we can save that for later. Let's just start out with
what's really obvious — the five khandhas and their
companions: sight, sounds, smells, tastes, and tactile sensations.
These
make contact with the eye, ear, nose, tongue and body, and then link
up with the mind, forming the basis for this assumption and that.
The mind then takes the objects that have come passing by and uses
them to bind itself, entangle itself, or encircle itself so that it
is completely darkened with love, hate, anger, and all sorts of
other states, all of which come from the things I have mentioned.
But
what lies buried deep is our belief that the khandhas form
our self. From time immemorial, whatever our language, whatever our
race — even when we are common animals — we have to believe that
these things are us, are ours; that they are a being, the self of a
being, our own self. If we become deities, we believe that our
divine bodies are ours. If we become hungry ghosts or whatever, the
things we dwell in — gross bodies or refined — we take to be us or
ours. Even when we become human beings and begin to have some sense
of good and evil, we still have to believe that 'This is us,' or
'This is ours.' Of the five khandhas, the body (rupa)
is 'us.' Vedana, sañña, sankhara, and viññana are
'us,' are 'ours.' These assumptions lie buried deep within us.
The
Buddha thus teaches us to investigate. We investigate these things
so as to see their truth clearly and then to uproot our mistaken
assumptions and attachments that they are the self. We do this for
the sake of freedom and for nothing else.
If we
look at these things in their normal state, we might wonder why we
should investigate them. Sights are simply sights; sounds are
sounds; smells, smells; tastes, tastes; tactile sensations are
simply natural phenomena as they've always been. They've never
announced that they are our enemies. So why investigate them?
We
investigate them to know the truth of each one of them as it
actually is, to realize our own delusions by means of this
investigation and to extricate ourselves from them through knowledge
— for the fact that the mind lays claim to the khandhas as
its self, as belonging to itself, is because of delusion and nothing
else.
Once we
have investigated and clearly understood what these things are, the
mind withdraws inwardly through knowledge, understanding, and
discernment, with no more concern for these things. We investigate
whichever khandha is most prominent. We needn't conjecture or
speculate about the fact that we haven't contemplated the five
khandhas in their entirety, or each khandha in turn. We
needn't conjecture at all. All we need to do is to see which
khandha is prominent and merits investigation at the moment —
which khandha we feel best suited to handle — and then
investigate and explore it so that it becomes clear.
Take,
for instance, the body, whichever aspect of the body is most
prominent in your awareness — the aspect that has you most
interested, that you want most to investigate. Latch onto that spot
and focus on examining it so as to see its truth in terms of the
question, 'What is stress?'
In the
texts we are told that stress (dukkha) means
'unendurability,' but this doesn't sit well with my own crass
tastes, which is why — one man's meat being another man's poison — I
prefer to translate stress as 'a constant squeeze.' This is more in
keeping with my tastes, which are very crude. For example, the
phrase, 'yampiccham na labhati tampi dukkham,' is right in
line with my translation. In other words, 'Not attaining what is
desired is stress.' How is it stress? In that it puts a squeeze on
us, or makes us uncomfortable.
If we
don't get what we want, we're uncomfortable. Even if we get what we
want but then lose it, we suffer stress. Stress in this sense fits
the translation, 'a squeeze.' This squeeze is what's meant by stress
or unendurability. If it can't endure, let it go its own way. Why
mess with it? Actually, no matter which khandha, no matter
which of the three characteristics, the mind is the one at fault for
getting attached, which is why we have to examine the khandhas
until we have them clear.
Whatever aspect of the body, look so as to see it clearly. If we're
not yet clear about the filthiness in our 'physical heap,' we can
look at the charnel ground within us so as to see it clearly. When
we're told to visit the charnel ground, this is where we make our
visit. Even if we visit a charnel ground outside, the purpose is to
reflect inwardly on the inner charnel ground — our own body.
As for
the external charnel ground, in the days of the Buddha it was a
place where corpses were scattered all over the place. The dead were
hardly ever buried or cremated as they are today. So the Buddha
taught monks to visit the charnel ground, where old corpses and new
were scattered everywhere. He also gave detailed instructions as to
the direction from which to enter, in keeping with his sharp
intelligence as a self-dependent Buddha, the Teacher of the world.
He said to approach from the upwind side and not from the downwind
side. Otherwise the stench of the various corpses would be bad for
your health.
'When
you encounter corpses in this way, how do you feel? Look at the
different types of corpses. How do you feel? Now refer inwardly, to
your own body, which is another corpse.' This is how he taught the
monks to investigate. Once we have an eyewitness — ourself — as to
what the corpses in the external charnel ground are like, we can
refer inwardly to the internal charnel ground: ourself again. Once
we have grasped the basic principle, the external charnel ground
gradually fades out of the picture. Instead, we investigate our
internal charnel ground so that it becomes gradually more and more
clear. In other words, we see how this body is a well of filth.
Repulsive. Something that constantly has to be washed, bathed, and
cleaned.
Is
there anything that, once it has become involved with any part of
the body, remains clean? Even the food we eat, once we consume it,
becomes filthy from the moment it enters the mouth and passes on
down. Our clothing is also dirty. It has to be washed and laundered
— a lot of fuss and bother. The same holds true for our homes. They
constantly have to be cleaned, scrubbed, dusted, and swept.
Otherwise they turn into another charnel ground because of the filth
and the smell. Everywhere, wherever human beings live, has to be
cleaned — because human beings are filthy. And since our bodies are
already filthy, everything that comes into contact with them becomes
filthy. Even food — delicious, inviting, appealing food — once it
becomes mixed with the filth in the body, such as saliva, becomes
filthy as well. If you took food of various kinds into your mouth
and then spit it out, there'd be no way you could take it back in
again. It'd be too disgusting. Revolting. Why? Because the body is
filthy by its very nature, and so whatever becomes involved with the
body becomes filthy as well.
To
contemplate in this way is called investigating the charnel ground,
or investigating the theme of loathsomeness.
So.
Focus in on seeing its inherent nature. Look at every facet, in
whichever way comes most naturally to you. When you've examined one
spot, your knowledge gradually seeps into the next spot and the
next. If mindfulness and awareness keep in close connection,
discernment can't help but go to work and advance unceasingly.
You'll feel profoundly moved as you come to see and know truly, step
by step. This is discernment on the first level of investigation.
Once
you've investigated filthiness, you then investigate the process of
change in the body. In other words, filth is in this body. Dry
corpses, fresh corpses, raw corpses, cooked corpses, all kinds of
corpses are gathered together in this body, but I've never heard the
place where they are barbecued, roasted, and stewed called a
crematorium. Instead, it's called kitchen. But actually, that's what
it is, a crematorium for animals. And then they're all buried here
in this stomach, this grave. We're a burial ground for all kinds of
animals — yes, us! — if we look at ourselves in all fairness, with
impartiality, because we're filled with old corpses and new. Once we
have contemplated in this way, then if we don't feel disenchantment,
if we don't feel disengagement, what will we feel? — for that's the
way the truth actually is.
The
Buddha taught us to get to the truth, because this is what the truth
is. If we don't resist the truth, we will all be able to unshackle
ourselves from our attachments and false assumptions — from our
stupidity and foolishness — step by step. The mind will become
bright and clear, radiating its brightness with dignity, bravery,
and courage in the face of the truth that comes into contact with it
at all times. It will be content to accept every facet of the truth
with fairness and impartiality. Even though we may not have yet
abandoned our attachments absolutely, we can still find relief in
having put them down to at least some extent. We no longer have to
be constantly weighed down with our attachments to the khandhas
to the point where we are always miserable. This is in keeping with
the saying, 'Fools, the heavier their burdens, the more they keep
piling on. Sages, the lighter their burdens, the more they let go —
until nothing is left.'
When we
investigate in this way, we should examine the process of change in
the khandhas. Every piece, every bit, every part of the body
undergoes change. There's no exception, not even for a single hair.
Everything undergoes change in the same way. So which part is us,
which part is ours, to which we should be attached?
The
same holds true with the word 'anatta,' not-self. It drives
home even more firmly the fact that these things don't deserve our
attachment. 'Anatta' lies in the same parts as change — the
very same parts. They're anatta, not ours or anyone else's.
Each one, each one is simply a natural phenomenon mingled with
the others in line with its own nature, without any concern for
who will like it or hate it, latch onto it or let it go.
But we
human beings are light-fingered and quick. Whatever comes our way,
we snatch hold of it, snatch hold of it, with no concern for right
or wrong. We're more light-fingered and quick than a hundred
monkeys, and yet all of us, all over the world, like to criticize
monkeys for not being able to sit contented and still. Actually we
ourselves can't stay contented and still in any position. We're full
of restlessness — unruly, reckless, overflowing our boundaries — and
yet we never think of criticizing ourselves. The Dhamma taught by
the Buddha is thus like a stick for slapping the hands of this
light-fingered, unruly monkey.
With
the three characteristics, anatta among them, he warns us,
strikes our wrists: 'Don't reach!' He slaps us, strikes us: 'Don't
reach for it as "me" or "mine."' The phrase, 'The body is not the
self,' is just like that. 'Don't reach for it. Don't latch onto it.'
This is simply so that we will see that it's already not-self. By
its nature it's not-self. It doesn't belong to anyone at all. He's
already told us: 'Anatta: It's not the self.' This is how we
investigate the body.
So, now
then: Focus on visualizing it as it disintegrates, in whichever way
seems most natural to you. This part decomposes. That part
decomposes. This part falls off. That part falls off. Let yourself
become engrossed in watching it, using your own ingenuity. This
falls off, that falls off, until everything has fallen apart — all
the bones, from the skull on down. Once the skin that enwraps them
has decomposed, the flesh has decomposed, the tendons that hold them
together have decomposed, the bones can't help but fall apart, piece
by piece, because they are held together only by tendons. Once the
tendons decompose, the different parts have to fall off piece by
piece in a pile on the ground, scattered all over the place. You can
even visualize having vultures, crows, and dogs come to eat and
scatter the parts everywhere. How does the mind feel about this?
Well
then, look at it. Visualize the liquid parts seeping into the earth
and evaporating into the air, then drying away, drying away until
they no longer appear. The solid parts, once they've dried, return
to the earth from which they came. Earth returns to earth, water to
water, wind to wind. Penetrate down into any of four elements —
earth, water, wind, or fire — because each gives clear evidence of
the Noble Truths.
We
don't have to think that we've examined earth clearly, but this
element or that element isn't clear. We needn't think that way at
all. If we examine any one of them until it's clear, we will
penetrate them all, because earth, water, wind, and fire are all
already open and aboveboard. They appear to our sight. In our body,
we already have water. Wind — for example, the in-and-out breath —
is already clearly there, already clear to see. Fire — the warmth in
the body — is something we all have here in our bodies. So why don't
we accept its truth with right discernment? Once we've investigated
it over and over again, we have to accept it. We can't resist the
truth, because that's why we're here: We want the truth.
So keep
investigating. Look for the part that's 'you' or 'yours.' Look for
it! There isn't any — not a one! The whole thing originally belongs
to them: to earth, water, wind, and fire. It originally belongs to
the different elements.
Now,
when you look in this manner, the mind can settle down and grow
still. At the same time, these aren't preoccupations that will make
the mind proud, conceited, or unruly. Rather, they are themes that
calm the heart, which is why the Buddha taught us to investigate
them repeatedly until we understand and become adept at them.
When
the mind sees clearly with its own discernment, it can't help but
withdraw into stillness, firmly centered within, letting go of all
its cares. This is one level in the investigation of the
khandhas.
Now for
the next step: Investigate feelings of pain, especially when you are
ill or have been sitting in meditation for a long time, and severe
pain arises. Take it on, right there. A warrior has to fight when
the enemy appears. If there's no enemy, how can you call him a
warrior? And what's the enemy? Feelings of pain, the enemy of the
heart. When you're ill, where does it hurt? There: You have your
enemy. If you're a warrior, how can you run away and hide? You have
to fight until you gain knowledge and then use that knowledge to
come out victorious.
So.
What does the pain come from? From the time we were born until we
first sat in meditation, it wasn't there. Before we first became
ill, it didn't appear. It appears only now that we're ill. Before
that, where was it hiding? If it's really 'us,' our mind should have
been aware of it at all times, so why hasn't this kind of pain
appeared at all times? Why is it appearing now? If the pain is 'us,'
then when it vanishes why doesn't the mind vanish with it? If
they're really one and the same thing, they have to vanish together.
The pain should appear as long as the mind is aware. If they're one
and the same thing, the pain shouldn't vanish. You have to look and
investigate until this is clear. At the same time, analyze the body
when the pain arises — when, for example, your legs ache or when
this or that bone hurts. Fix your attention on the bone if the bone
is really hurting.
Is the
bone the pain? Ask yourself! And whatever you're asking about,
focus your attention right there. Don't ask in the abstract or
absentmindedly. Ask in a way that focuses the mind right down to see
the truth. Focus steadily right on the pain. Stare the mind right
down on whichever bone you identify with the pain. Look carefully to
see, 'Is this bone the pain?' Fix your attention there. Really
observe with your own discernment. If this bone is really the pain,
then when the pain vanishes, why doesn't the bone vanish with it? If
they really are one and the same thing, then when the pain vanishes,
the bone should vanish too. It shouldn't remain.
But
look: When the disease goes away, or when we get up from sitting in
meditation, the really severe pain vanishes, the stress vanishes. So
if they are one and the same thing, why doesn't the bone
vanish as well? This shows that they aren't one and the same. The
feeling isn't the same as the body. The body isn't the same as the
feeling. Similarly, the body and the mind aren't one and the same.
Each has its own separate reality. Distinguish them so as to see
them clearly in line with this truth, and you'll understand their
true nature through discernment, with no doubts at all. Feeling will
appear in its true nature.
Ultimately, the investigation will come circling in, circling in,
circling in to the mind. The pain will gradually shrink into itself,
away from the mind's assumptions. In other words, you will see that
the mind is the culprit. The mind is the instigator. The physical
pain will gradually subside and fade away. The body will simply be
there as the body, with the same reality it had before the pain
appeared. And now that the pain has vanished, the flesh, skin,
tendon, bone or whatever part you had identified as the pain will
maintain its reality in the same way. It isn't the pain. The body is
the body. The feeling is the feeling. The mind is the mind. Fix your
attention on seeing them clearly. Once the mind has penetrated to
the truth, the pain will disappear. This is one result.
Another
result is that even if the pain doesn't vanish — here I'm referring
to the physical pain — still it can't have any impact on the heart
and mind. Ultimately, the mind is serene, secure, and majestic,
there in the midst of the physical pain. No matter which part of the
body you say is pained — even if it's the whole body at once — the
mind isn't disturbed or agitated in any way. It's relaxed and at
ease because it has seen with discernment right through the pain
appearing at the moment. This is another sort of result that comes
from investigating pain.
When
investigating pain, then the greater the pain, the more important it
is that your mindfulness and discernment not retreat. They have to
keep advancing so as to know the truth. You needn't aim at making
the pain vanish, because such a desire would simply enhance the pain
and make it more and more severe. Actually, you're making an
investigation simply to see the truth. Whether or not the pain
vanishes, know the truth that is the pain or gives rise to the pain
by seeing through it with your own discernment: That's enough. Fix
your attention there, and these things will keep appearing and
disappearing there in the khandhas.
The
body appears for a certain period and then disintegrates in what we
call death. As for feelings of pain, they appear a hundred times in
a single day and then disappear a hundred times, a thousand times as
well. What's lasting about them? This is the kind of truth they are.
Get so you clearly know with discernment the truth of painful
feelings as they appear. Don't retreat or let the mind wander
adrift.
What is
sañña labeling at the moment? Sañña is the important
instigator. As soon as sankhara fashions anything — blip! — sañña
latches right onto it and labels it this, labels it that —
stirring things all up. When we talk about the things that create
havoc, provoking this issue and that, we're referring to these
characters: sankharas and saññas that label things and
stamp meanings on them. 'This is us. This is ours. This is pain. It
hurts right here. It hurts right there. I'm afraid of the pain. I'm
afraid to die' — afraid of everything of every sort. These are the
characters that fool us into fear, making the mind apprehensive,
making it give up its efforts and lose. Is it good to lose?
Even children playing games have a sense of shame when they lose,
and try to make up their losses. As for meditators who lose out to
defilement, who lose out to pain: If they don't feel embarrassed in
the presence of the defilements, the pains and themselves, then
they're simply too shameless.
Know
that vedana, sañña, sankhara, and viññana are simply
individual conditions displayed by the mind. They appear and vanish.
'Sañña anatta' — see? They too are not-self, so how can you
hold to them? How can you believe them to be you, to be yours, to be
true? Keep track of them so that you can know them clearly with
mindfulness and discernment: audacious, undaunted, diamond-hearted,
decisive in the face of defilement and pain of every sort.
Sankharas, mental formations: They form — blip, blip, blip — in
the heart. The heart ripples for a moment: blip, blip, blip. The
moment they arise, they vanish. So what substance or truth can you
find in these saññas and sankharas?
Viññana, cognizance: As soon as anything comes into contact,
this takes note and vanishes, takes note and vanishes. So
ultimately, the khandhas are full of nothing but appearing
and vanishing. There's nothing lasting about them that can give us
any real sustenance or nourishment. There's not even the least bit
of substance to them. So use your discernment to investigate until
you see clearly in this way, and you will come to see the real
Dhamma taught by the Buddha, which has not been otherwise from time
immemorial and by the same token will never be otherwise at all.
Once
we've investigated to this extent, how can the mind not withdraw
into stillness until it is plainly apparent? It has to be still. It
has to stand out. The mind's awareness of itself has to be prominent
because it has withdrawn inwardly from having seen the truth of
these things. The mind has to be prominent. Pain, no matter
how horribly severe, will dissolve away through investigation,
through the mind's having clearly seen its truth. Or if it doesn't
go away, then the pain and the mind will each have their own
separate reality. The heart will be inwardly majestic. Undaunted.
Unfearing.
When
the time comes for death, let it happen. There is no more fear,
because death is entirely a matter of rupa, vedana, sañña,
sankhara, and viññana. It's not a matter of the 'knower'
— the heart — breaking apart. It's not the knower — the heart — that
dies. Only those other things die. The mind's labels and assumptions
have simply fooled it into fear. If we can catch sight of the fact
that these labels and assumptions are illusions and not worthy of
credence, the mind will withdraw inwardly, no longer believing them,
but believing the truth instead, believing the discernment that has
investigated things thoroughly.
Now,
when the mind has investigated time and again, ceaselessly,
relentlessly, it will develop expertise in the affairs of the
khandhas. The physical khandha will be the first to be
relinquished through discernment. In the beginning stage of the
investigation, discernment will see through the physical khandha
before seeing through the others and will be able to let it go. From
there, the mind will gradually be able to let go of vedana,
sañña, sankhara, and viññana at the same time.
To put
the matter simply, once discernment sees through them, it lets go.
If it has yet to see through them, it holds on. Once we see through
them with discernment, we let them go — let them go completely —
because we see that they are simply ripplings in the mind — blip,
blip, blip — without any substance at all. A good thought appears
and vanishes. A bad thought appears and vanishes. Whatever kind of
thought appears, it's simply a formation and as such it vanishes. If
a hundred formations appear, all hundred of them vanish. There is no
permanence to them substantial enough for us to trust.
So
then. What is it that keeps supplying us with these things or keeps
forcing them out on us? What is it that keeps forcing this thing and
that out to fool us? This is where we come to what the Buddha calls
the pabhassara-citta: the original, radiant mind. 'But monks,
because of the admixture of defilement,' or 'because of the
defilements that come passing through' — from sights, sound, smells,
tastes, tactile sensations; from rupa, vedana, sañña, sankhara,
and viññana, that our labels and assumptions haul in to burn
us — 'the mind becomes defiled.' It's defiled with just these very
things.
Thus
investigation is for the sake of removing these things so as to
reveal the mind through clear discernment. We can then see that as
long as the mind is at the stage where it hasn't ventured out to
become engaged in any object — inasmuch as its instruments, the
senses, are still weak and undeveloped — it is quiet and radiant, as
in the saying, 'The original mind is the radiant mind.' But this
is the original mind of the round of rebirth — for example, the
mind of a newborn child whose activities are still too undeveloped
to take any objects on fully. It's not the original mind freed
from the cycle and fully pure.
So
while we investigate around us stage by stage, the symptoms of
defilement that used to run all over the place will be gathered into
this single point, becoming a radiance within the mind. And this
radiance: Even the tools of super-mindfulness and super-discernment
will have to fall for it when they first meet with it, because it's
something we have never seen before, never met before, from the
beginning of our practice or from the day of our birth. We thus
become awed and amazed. It seems for the moment that nothing can
compare to it in magnificence.
And why
shouldn't it be magnificent? It has been the king of the round of
rebirth in all three worlds — the world of sensuality, the world of
form, and the world of formlessness — since way back when, for
countless aeons. It's the one who has wielded power over the mind
and ruled the mind all along. As long as the mind doesn't possess
the mindfulness and discernment to pull itself out from under this
power, how can it not be magnificent? This is why it has been able
to drive the mind into experiencing birth on various levels without
limit, in dependence on the fruits of the different actions it has
performed under the orders of the ephemeral defilements. The fact
that living beings wander and stray, taking birth and dying
unceasingly, is because this nature leads them to do so.
This
being the case, we have to investigate it so as to see it plainly.
Actually, radiance and defilement are two sides of the same coin
because they are both conventional realities. The radiance that
comes from the convergence of the various defilements will form a
point, a center, so that we can clearly perceive that 'This is the
center of the radiance.' When any defilement appears, in
correspondence with that state or level of the mind, a very
refined stress will arise in the center we call radiant. Thus
radiance, defilement, and stress — all three — are companions. They
go together.
For
this reason, the mind possessing this radiance must worry over it,
guard it, protect it, maintain it, for fear that something may come
to disturb it, jar it, obscure its radiance. Even the most refined
adulteration is still an affair of defilement, about which we as
meditators should not be complacent. We must investigate it with
unflagging discernment.
In
order to cut through the burden of your concerns once and for all,
you should ask yourself, 'What is this radiance?' Fix your attention
on it until you know. There's no need to fear that once this
radiance is destroyed, the 'real you' will be destroyed along with
it. Focus your investigation right at that center to see clearly
that this radiance has the characteristics of inconstancy, stress,
and not-self just like all the other phenomena you have already
examined. It's not different in any way, aside from the difference
in its subtlety.
Thus
nothing should be taken for granted. If anything has the nature of
conventional reality, let discernment slash away at it. Focus right
down on the mind itself. All the really counterfeit things lie in
the mind. This radiance is the ultimate counterfeit and at
that moment it's the most conspicuous point. You hardly want to
touch it at all, because you love it and cherish it more than
anything else. In the entire body there is nothing more outstanding
than this radiance, which is why you are amazed at it, love it,
cherish it, dawdle over it, want nothing to touch it. But it's
the enemy king: unawareness.
Have
you ever seen it? If you haven't, then when you reach this stage in
your practice you'll fall for it of your own accord. And then you'll
know it of your own accord — no one will have to tell you — when
mindfulness and discernment are ready. It's called avijja —
unawareness. Right here is the true unawareness. Nothing else is
true unawareness. Don't go imagining avijja as a tiger, a
leopard, a demon, or a beast. Actually, it's the most beautiful,
most alluring Miss Universe the world has ever seen. Genuine
unawareness is very different from what we expect it to be.
When we
reach genuine unawareness, we don't know what unawareness is and so
we get stuck right there. If there's no one to advise us, no one to
suggest an approach, we are sure to stay stuck there a long time
before we can understand and work ourselves free. But if there is
someone to suggest an approach, we can begin to understand it and
strike right at that center, without trusting it, by investigating
it in the same way we have dealt with all other phenomena.
Once
we've investigated it with sharp discernment until we know it
clearly, this phenomenon will dissolve away in a completely
unexpected way. At the same time, you could call it Awakening, or
closing down the cemeteries of the round of rebirth, the round of
the mind, under the shade of the Bodhi tree. Once this phenomenon
has dissolved away, something even more amazing that has been
concealed by unawareness will be revealed in all its fullness.
This is
what is said to be like the quaking of the cosmos within the heart.
This is a very crucial mental moment: when the heart breaks away
from conventions. This moment, when release and conventional
reality break away from each other, is more awesome than can be
expressed. The phrase, 'the path of arahantship giving way to the
fruition of arahantship' refers to precisely this mental moment, the
moment in which unawareness vanishes. As we are taught, when the
path is fully developed, it steps onward to the fruition of
arahantship, which is the Dhamma — the mind — at its most complete.
From that moment on, there are no more problems.
The
phrase, 'the one nibbana,'
1 is fully realized in
this heart in the moment unawareness is dissolving. We are taught
that this is the moment when the path and the fruition — which are a
pair — come together and meet. If we were to make a comparison with
climbing the stairs to a house, one foot is on the last step, the
other foot is on the floor of the house. We haven't yet reached the
house with both feet. When both feet are on the floor of the house,
we've 'reached the house.' As for the mind, it is said to reach the
Dhamma or to attain the ultimate Dhamma, and from the moment of
attainment it's called 'the one nibbana.'
In
other words, the mind is completely free. It displays no further
activity for the removal of defilement. This is called the one
nibbana. If you want, you can call it the fruition of
arahantship, for at this stage there are no more defilements to
quibble. Or you can call it the one nibbana. But if you want
to give it the conventional label most appropriate to the actual
principle, so that nothing is deficient in conventional terms, you
have to say 'the one nibbana' so as to be completely fitting
with conventional reality and release in the final phase of wiping
out the cemeteries of the mind of unawareness.
The
Buddha taught,
n'atthi santi param sukham:
There is no ease other than peace.
There is no ease other than peace.
This
refers to the stage of those who have no more defilements, who have
attained sa-upadisesa-nibbana alive, such as the arahants.
To
practice the religion means to attend to your own heart and mind.
Who is it that suffers pain and difficulty? Who is the suspect,
forever imprisoned? Who else, if not the mind? And who has it
imprisoned, if not all the defilements and mental effluents? To deal
with the situation, you have to deal directly with the enemies of
the heart, using your discernment, for only sharp discernment is
capable of dealing with the defilements until they dissolve away of
their own accord, as I have already mentioned. From that point on,
there are no more problems.
As for
rupa, vedana, sañña, sankhara, and viññana, they're
simply conditions — just conditions — no longer capable of
affecting or provoking the mind. The same with sights, sounds,
smells, tastes, and tactile sensations: Each has its separate
reality. To each one we say, 'If it exists, it exists. If not, no
matter.' The only problem has been the mind that makes labels and
assumptions through its own stupidity. Once it gains enough
intelligence, it becomes real. All phenomena within and without are
real. Each has its own separate reality, with no more of the
conflicts or issues that used to occur.
When we
reach the stage where 'each has its own separate reality,' we can
say that the war between the mind and defilement is over. When the
time comes to part, we part. If not, we live together, like everyone
else in the world, but we don't take issue with each other like
everyone else in the world, because we've made our investigation.
If the
words 'inconstancy, stress, and not-self' don't refer to the
khandhas for which we are responsible, what do they refer to? So
now we have completed our studies — our study of the three
characteristics (tilakkhana), rather than of the three
divisions (tipitaka) of the Pali Canon, although actually the
three divisions are nothing other than the three characteristics, in
that the three divisions are a description of the three
characteristics throughout.
Inconstancy: the process of change. Stress. Not-self: The
khandhas are not us — not us while we are living, so when we die
what is there to latch onto? When you see the truth in this way, you
don't worry or feel apprehensive over the life or death of the
khandhas. The mind simply perceives the modes in which the
khandhas behave and break apart, but by its nature it doesn't
disband along with the khandhas, so there's nothing to fear.
If death comes, you don't try to prevent it. It life continues, you
don't try to prevent it, for each is a truth.
In
completing your study of death, you become the ultimate person — the
ultimate you. When you have completed your study of death, you don't
fear death — 'If life continues, let it continue; if death comes,
let it die' — for you have spread a net around yourself with your
discernment. You don't tremble over the truths of which the heart is
fully aware at all times.
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