by Ajahn Chah
The Buddha thus said to change your perceptions, and there will be the Dharma. When the mind is in harmony with Dharma, Dharma enters the heart. The mind and the Dharma become indistinguishable. This is something to be realized by those who practice, the changing of one’s view and experience of things. The entire Dharma is something to be realized individually. It cannot be given by anyone; that is an impossibility. If you hold it to be difficult, it will be difficult. If you take it to be easy, it is easy. Whoever contemplates it and sees the one point does not have to know a lot of things. Seeing the one point, seeing birth and death, the arising and passing away of phenomena according to nature, you will know all things. This is a matter of the truth.
This is the way of the Buddha. The Buddha gave his teachings out of the wish to benefit all beings. He wished for us to go beyond suffering and to attain peace. It’s not that we have to die first in order to transcend suffering. We shouldn’t think that we will attain this after death. We can go beyond suffering here and now, in the present. We transcend within our perception of things, in this very life, through the view that arises in our minds. Then sitting, we are happy; lying down, we are happy; wherever we are, we have happiness. We become without fault, experiencing no ill results, living in a state of freedom. The mind is clear, bright, and tranquil, like the sun or the full moon emerging from behind the clouds. There is no more darkness or defilement. That is when we have reached the supreme happiness of the Buddha’s way. Please investigate this for yourselves. All of you, please contemplate this to gain understanding and ability. If you have suffering, practice to alleviate your suffering. If it is great, make it little; if it is little, make an end of it. Everyone has to do this for themselves. May you prosper and develop.
6
TEACHING DHARMA
IT’S ALL UPAYA (skillful means). It is as if we’re advertising medicine to sell; we have to talk about its effectiveness. “Whoever suffers from headaches, whoever has indigestion. . . .” Then whether or not people will buy is up to them. But we do have to go to the villages and say something, otherwise they won’t know about it. It is just skillful means to get people to take a look.
Dharma has no body or substance, but we have to find some way to get people to come to it and understand. We make analogies and comparisons to say that it is like this and like that; it is totally a matter of upaya. The real Dharma cannot be shown or seen like this. Think about it. No one can really give Dharma to another. We can only give upaya to help people understand, speaking in ways they can relate to. So where is the Dharma? You’d better investigate this anew.
The Buddha didn’t praise those who merely believe others. He praised those who come to know for themselves. This latter kind of knowledge is clear, and when you know in this way, problems and questions come to an end. If you only know because of what someone told you, the questions remain.
For example, when you were coming here, you had to ask someone the way to Ban Gaw village and Wat Pah Pong, what the monastery is like, and so forth. But just hearing their answers is not knowing clearly. You know, but not for real. You could spend your whole life thinking about it without knowing until you actually get here. If someone else asks you about Wat Pah Pong, what can you say? Nothing is really clear yet, because you have only heard what others had to say. Your knowledge does not reach the actuality; it hasn’t arrived. So there are still questions.
When you do arrive, and see for yourself, there is nothing more to be puzzled about. You can say what Ban Gaw is like, what Wat Pah Pong is like, what the ajahn is like. The questions have come to an end because you see for yourself.
So the Buddha taught us to meditate and realize for ourselves. Just believing others’ words he called foolishness. We may believe the words of others, but we have to investigate and come to believe a second time through really seeing the truth of those words.
Like some people, I’ve often thought about how people like to make merit through offerings these days. It’s a popular practice, and people feel good about it. And it is good, true enough. But think about giving up evil. Actually, giving up evil is a bigger thing than the meritorious activity of giving. A thief is unable to stop doing bad deeds; but he might offer food to monks or do some other charitable acts. He might steal from one person and then distribute some of his gains to others and feel good about it. But to get him to give up stealing is not so easy. Making merit and doing evil are of different weight in this way. Anyone can give things, isn’t that so? In our culture, it’s a deeply ingrained tradition. But giving up evil—well, think about it. A thief won’t do that unless he undergoes a genuine transformation. You can consider the matter from this little example.
Practicing and living the Dharma are like that. Listening is not so difficult; doing is difficult. We need to see and realize through practice, not only through hearing. We have to hear and gain understanding from hearing, but then we have to take it inside to see more clearly, to see a second and a third time. There will be no problems then. We are likely to continuously have doubts and problems precisely because of reading texts. “This teacher says this, that one says that, the disciples of the Buddha said this. . . .” But what about our own minds? We don’t yet know. Yes, Sariputta was good, Moggallana was good. But are we as good as they? Have we gotten down to practicing as they did yet? “No, but let me read this first.” We might well die first, just reading texts and listening to teachings.
Portrait of Ajahn Chah by Gerry Rollason, late 1970s.
From Forest Sangha Newsletter, Commemorative Issue, April 1993.
Can you really experience the truth of Dharma from reading a text? Learning about anger from a text isn’t the same as knowing anger. One who really sees anger will give it up, but just knowing the word is not real knowing. You can hear the teaching and think, yes, it’s probably true, but when you meet situations and have sense-contact, you lose control. At that level, you still can’t let go. “I know, but I can’t give it up. When the time comes to practice, I will let go, but now I can’t.”
The way I see it these days, it’s better to go back and make yourself normal. Whoever has faith will come and do it. We don’t need to talk about it a lot. We need to practice a lot. If there is a wound, you’d better clean it deep down, all the way, not just on the surface, or you’ll end up amputating.
It’s not that we can just talk about Dharma and people will see instantly. It isn’t like that. Such as with talking about nirvana. It only brings confusion. People even criticize the Buddha. He knew it perfectly, so why did he speak about it indirectly? Why didn’t he show it directly for us to see? There’s a problem here. This is not something you can explain for others to know clearly, so he had to speak as he did. Otherwise, we would have to accuse him of being ignorant or unskilled. If it were the case that knowing for oneself would enable one to make everyone else understand, why would the Buddha leave us in confusion?
It’s the same as trying to show colors to someone who is totally blind. What will you tell him about red or yellow or green? “Green is like this.” Is that sufficient for a blind person? “Red is such and such.” Will the blind person understand? Yes, you can talk and explain in the greatest detail, but what will he understand from that? What is the reason he is unable to understand? It’s only because of his blindness. You can’t really be faulted for not explaining it.
There’s no way to give this to someone else. The Buddha elucidated for people to be able to come to realization by themselves. But people fault the Buddha, saying he was ignorant or unskillful. “OK, if you know it, then explain it to me clearly.” It’s like the blind person who keeps on asking about colors and keeps grumbling that you aren’t doing a good job of explaining. You say, “Hey, this is yellow. This thing is really a perfect yellow.” What’s the use? The more you talk, the more confused he is about it. So what’s to be done? It would be better to come back to the salient point and ask, “What’s wrong with your eyes? Let’s find a way to restore your sight.�
�� Then you won’t need to try and explain about red and green and yellow. Otherwise, just trying to point things out with words is a futile exercise and nothing meaningful will result. The darkness of ignorance is much more terrible than being blind.
So in the end, it’s a matter of practicing. You must do it your-selves; the Dharma is really only upaya. If you have never been inside the hall here, but I have seen the Buddha statue and other things and feel that you should see them too, I should find a way to get you to come here rather than just telling you about it. I can describe the splendid statue to you, but you may not believe me. So I have to find a way to get you inside, and once you have seen, you will believe.
It can be difficult to convince people of anything real if they are self-absorbed and firmly trust their own views. They may say there is no sense or logic to the Dharma when we try to explain it to them. Having no sense in themselves, they ascribe that to others. So how can we tell them about Dharma? We can only teach those who will give it a try. Those who will not do anything, who won’t practice to find out for themselves, cannot be taught; they are what is called padaparama, or “idiots.”
What kind of person is a padaparama individual? Does it mean someone without schooling? A person can have a doctorate and clearly belong in this category, or it can be someone who has stayed in the woods all her life. Yet the illiterate forest-dweller can also have the capacity to understand Dharma; she can be of the type who sees easily. It’s not always necessary to have a lot of study. People can be highly learned in a number of disciplines and still be hopeless, refusing to trust anyone’s words; for all their knowledge, these people can be the hardest type of padaparama.
People can be difficult, really. Everyone wants to know easily. University students often come here. They ask, “Luang Por, what should we do to gain realization quickly? What’s the very fastest way?” Well, if you’re interested in fastest, you don’t need to bother at all. Just forget about it. What do you think you will get with this attitude?
Some practitioners like to dispute over meditation methods, over precepts, over what tranquility is and what insight is. Don’t go arguing with them. I don’t argue with people. I do my practice according to what I understand, and what others believe is up to them. Don’t make a big deal out of it. I practice the way I do. If you are interested, you may try it. I can’t make a law about it. If you are curious to know whether there’s something to it, you have to find out for yourself. Otherwise there’s no end to it: samatha and vipassana, meditating on the rising and falling of the abdomen, Buddho, Dhammo. . . . Everyone will go mad, discussing and arguing as to what is the right way to practice, what is the best way. It’s excessive, really. But this is what some people like. When it comes to practice, they like to ask questions. They have endless questions over the smallest thing. They like to try every meditation method they hear of. It’s like there’s a fire underneath them, a fire they lit themselves.
We tell them, “Sit in meditation and you can calm the mind”; practicing samadhi makes the mind peaceful. It sounds good, so they try it. They get the idea that as soon as they sit down, they will become tranquil. They sit and try to fix the mind, but it starts running all over, so they say it’s a lie, it doesn’t work. “Yeah, I’ve tried that, sitting to practice samadhi, but my mind wouldn’t stay still. It got really agitated, even worse than if I didn’t try to meditate. These meditation people are putting across a lot of deception.” Have you heard this? What would you say to them?
That kind of thing is simply due to the desires and ignorance of people. It doesn’t happen the way they’d like it to. Look at the accounts of the way people practiced, the way they lived, in the Buddha’s time. It isn’t like that now. These days people just look at books. They memorize things and then start teaching. I don’t know where they get their ideas. They go ahead and teach all kinds of mistaken things without knowing what they’re doing, not knowing what is correct or what is incorrect. It’s because they haven’t gained knowledge from within their own minds.
When the members of Parliament are up for reelection, they all say, “I am a good person! I work hard to help all of you!” Well, how many years has the populace been voting for these folks? What has come of it? Maybe we’ve seen a tiny bit of improvement because of them. And the only reason they do anything at all for us is so we’ll vote for them. They have the desire to be MPs. If they didn’t have the desire, they wouldn’t run. They have to have desire as a motivation to do anything; that’s how things normally work. “Oh, I’m the very best there is . . . trust me!” Who is the best one, really? Everyone will say they are. But if we examine them thoroughly, will they really be so good?
I’m not speaking ill of anyone, but this is the way people are. If it were arahants in that situation, you wouldn’t hear them talking like that, stirring up confusion and turmoil. We don’t get arahants in Parliament. Only worldly people want to be MPs, where they can play their worldly games. How good can you expect them to be? Just as good as they are, with their worldly motivation, good within the limits of worldliness. Or should we try to find some arahants to run for Parliament?
It’s the same with medicines. No matter what the medicine, how good can it be? Good within the limits of medicine itself. There are no medicines to stop death. They can alleviate the suffering of illness a little and help us feel better for a while. That’s all. Eventually the Lord of Death is going to take the doctors, too. It’s like this, so don’t make your thinking complicated and expect too much.
We seek tranquility, but we have to think correctly. It’s mostly a matter of relying on endurance and patience. If we can’t bear the difficulties, it all falls apart. We can’t take the confinement in the forest, so we want to give up and escape, get out and start talking with people and doing all our old activities again.
Those who call themselves Buddhists today, what are they like? I’ve taken a good look. It doesn’t really seem to touch people’s hearts. Those we can point to and say their minds are one with the Buddha’s way are indeed very few. Some Westerners ask me, “Luang Por, you’ve done your study and practice and attained knowledge, so why do you still live in the forest? There are few people here.” I think they’re trying to take me to the slaughterhouse. “If you go to the big city, there are many people you can help. You can’t accomplish much benefit in the forest.” Setting a trap, waiting to kill me.
If you go to the cities, the places of “progress,” to speak about Dharma, the people there will think you are mad. “The crazy monk has come. The mad monk is here!” If you try to talk about anything other than self, other than me and mine, they will say you’re crazy. Anyone who talks about things not being self or belonging to a self they will call insane. So I think those Westerners are trying to trick me, sending me to the slaughter. Most people aren’t going to listen.
People ask if I teach the foreigners about nirvana, or what I tell them. I’m only trying to get them to become a little more comfortable with themselves. There’s no point in talking about selflessness right off the bat. I just instruct them as to what to do. It’s like I tell them, “You have to put this glass here. Leave it here for two minutes, and don’t pick it up. After two minutes, pick it up and put it over there. Do this.”
“But why should I do it?”
“Don’t talk about it! Just do it! That’s good enough! Why do you need to ask? Knowledge will come to you through doing this.”
“What will happen from doing it, then?”
“Don’t ask! You came to study with me, and now your responsibility is only to lift up the glass and put it down.”
Wisdom will come about from this. Practicing for months and years, some reaction and change will take place in the mind. There will be some feeling, some awareness. Then wisdom will appear. The person doesn’t need to ask me questions, only do the practice. What’s the point of asking about a lot of things? I just teach you to do this, and your job is to do it. “Pick it up and put it here for two minute
s. Then pick it up and put it over there.” By keeping at it, some knowledge will come. Through the arising of awareness, the person will come to know something. But it’s necessary to endure. A person who endures must come to realization. When she does, then never mind what kind of teachings we give her.
So in my meditation these days, whatever comes about, I just say, “This is not certain.” That’s enough. Good experience—this is not certain. Bad experience—this is not certain. That person is nice, I like him—not certain. That person is really repulsive—this is also not certain. It all comes down to this. These things that are uncertain will not become otherwise. If you take something to be exceedingly good, some problems will come about for you. If you see something as extremely bad, will that help you? If you follow these two ways, you are experiencing the two extremes the Buddha warned about. You have indulgence and self-torment within you. But if you put them both down, good and evil, where will you dwell? When you are not following the ways of good or bad, what is there? It’s nothing that can be fixated on and objectively known. If you practice in this way, the realizations will come about.
