craving and clinging

from be an island by ayya khema

"having a self-image is detrimental to insight, because it is based on the illusion of permanence. everything constantly changes, including ourselves, while a self-image presupposes stability. one moment we may be a sensual being, the next moment an irritable one. sometimes we are at ease, at other times we are restless. who are we? any permanent image of ourselves can never have a basis in fact. such an image will block our insight into the underlying tendencies, blinding us to those that do not fit."

"next we come to clinging to existence (bhavaraga). that is our survival syndrome. we cling to being here, unwilling to give up, not ready to die today. we must learn to be ready to die now -- which does not mean wishing to die but rather accepting death as an ever present possibility. wishing to die is the other side of the coin of clinging to existence. it is trying to get rid of 'me' because life is too difficult. but being ready to die now means seeing the fallacy in clinging to being someone, and abandoning it.

clinging to existence leads us into dependency. we want everything to work out well for us, and we resent it if that does not happen. this creates irritation and sensuality. we often forget that we are only guests here on this planet. our visit is limited and can be over at any time. clinging to being alive projects us into the future, so that we cannot attend to the present. there is no life in the future, it is all ideation, conjecture, a hope, and a prayer. if we really want to be alive and experience things as they are, we have to be here now, attending to each moment. this entails letting go of clinging to what will happen to us in the future, particularly the question of whether we will continue to exist. existing in this moment is enough. then there will be strong mindfulness, real attention, and clear knowing."

"there is no way that a relationship can work unless heart and mind are both involved. there must be a loving feeling and an understanding. unless both arise in meditation, real concentration cannot happen. we may sit on the cushion year after year, yet our practice will not flourish. the deliberate mind movement of giving up has to precede the meditation. otherwise ego will get in the way. it will rear its ugly head and say, 'i know better. there are other ways to meditate.' the ego will insist on comfort: 'i don't feel comfortable, so this must not be right. i'd like something more pleasant.'

unless we learn to renounce all wanting and resistance every time we sit on the cushion, the spiritual path will remain an utter mystery. the buddha's teaching leads in one direction only -- the total elimination of self-delusion. to get there, we have to work on ourselves, little by little, all the time.

renunciation means letting go of ideation, letting go of the mind-stuff that claims to be the one who knows."

"but rites and rituals are not confined only to religious activities. in our relationships we have certain prescribed ways of acting towards our parents, our children, our partners. how we relate to coworkers, friends, and strangers, how we want to be affirmed by others -- all are connected to preconceived ideas of what is right and proper in a certain culture and tradition. none of them contain any basic truth, all are mind-made. the more ideas we have, the less we can see reality. the more we believe in customary, traditional behavior, the harder it is to abandon it when it is not skillful. if we imagine ourselves to be a certain kind of person, we relate to all situations in that way. so ritual is not solely about the way we put flowers on a shrine. it can also dictate how we greet people, if we do so in a certain stereotyped manner rather than simply with an open heart and mind."

******

"freedom is often misunderstood as the ability to do anything we want. we have probably tried that already and found that it doesn't work. even if we were to follow only our desires, we would soon be satiated and then feel unfulfilled.

freedom means nonattachment, which is not indifference but rather the penetration of absolute truth. to see that clearly, we let go for one moment of anything that we call our own, anything that we like or consider important. we examine it until its fleeting nature has become quite apparent. then the moment comes when we can say, 'i don't have to have that, i can do without it.' that is a moment of truth. having a moment of truth is always possible, but such moments don't come automatically. we have to inquire into our clinging and work at loosening it. letting go sounds easy, and it is, but only after it has happened. before that, it entails much self-examination.

a moment of signless liberation can be experienced in another way. suppose, for instance, there is an unpleasant feeling in the body that creates a reaction of 'i don't want it. go away now!' when we really penetrate into the impermanence of that feeling -- when we see how it has no basic reality or significance and, for just a moment, let go of our rejection and say, 'it's all right, it is only a feeling' -- we get a taste of signless liberation. when we see that there is nothing that really lasts, that all is fleeting, flowing, moving, and changing from one moment to the next, we have a moment of freedom. we can practice that with our thoughts, our feelings, or our physical sensations.

as a first step we can become aware of our attachment to the body. usually, we are concerned whether the body looks good, is dressed appropriately, feels well, eats right, and is comfortable enough. but when we consider the body's fleeting nature, our attachment may wane. we may experience instead a feeling of equanimity. we have no preference whether this body of ours exists or not. this is a moment of real peace, but it doesn't happen by itself. we have to remember again and again that life is not guaranteed but merely supported by kamma-vipaka (the results of one's intentions) and that it may run out at any time. that's the reason why the buddha recommended the daily recollection 'i am of the nature to die.' we are of this nature all the time, which means right now, not twenty years from now or whenever we feel ready.

everybody knows they are going to die -- there's nothing new about that. the buddha did not teach anything inaccessible. he asked us to investigate the known in a new way, to get a deep-down feeling that this body cannot remain, no matter how hard we try to keep it. it's a foregone conclusion that we are fighting a losing battle. of course this doesn't mean we shouldn't look after our bodies. the body has to be washed, fed, and given medicine. that's all we have to do. and if we can't keep it going indefinitely, that's all right.

one moment of real inner seeing is liberating. the experience of relief and release is totally convincing. it arouses a sense of urgency to practice to the end -- to be deterred no longer by the opinions of others or external situations. liberation is not so difficult that an ordinary person cannot experience it. were that so, the buddha's teaching would be in vain.

to get a glimpse of wishless liberation, we can notice the dissatisfaction - the [suffering] - that arises in the heart and mind whenever we want something. when we drop the wish, we experience relief. the [suffering] does not necessarily arise because we can't fulfill our wish; most likely we can. it's an old axiom that if we want something badly enough, we will get it. the problem is that most people don't know what will bring them happiness. the [suffering], however, lies in the desire itself, which creates tension, a feeling of expectation tinged with worry.

the desire also creates a thought process that is no longer concerned with the here and now, but with the future, with the hope of gratifying the desire. a mind preoccupied with the future cannot attend to the present moment. it lives in the imaginary delusion of what might happen when its desires are fulfilled. of course, the future hardly ever turns out the way we hope, but, since the real [suffering] lies in the wishing itself and not in the outcome, freedom from this kind of wishing is called wishless liberation.

when we deliberately drop our wishes for things, the release and relief generate a feeling of strength. the mind obeys, abandons its old patterns, and a feeling of self-confidence ensues. the more often we drop our wishes, the more powerful the mind becomes. the word 'power' has the connotation of power over other people, but here it means power over ourselves. it explains the sort of vibration that emanated from the buddha and why people flocked to him. we could compare such potential to a powerhouse from which energy can be drawn.

it is useful to aim for a moment of wishless liberation. our wish could be related to eating, to entertaining ourselves, wanting to go somewhere, buying something, getting information, or talking to someone. whatever it may be, we can drop it deliberately, knowing that we don't really need it. letting go of something we want requires willpower. but as soon as the mind has dropped its wishes, we can experience the ease of contentment.

to get an inkling of voidness liberation, we can deliberately empty the mind of all it contains, realizing that it has no absolute significance. the less we carry in the mind, the less tired the mind becomes. usually our minds are full to the brim, which is a great burden for us. voidness liberation means that there is an absence of all formations (thoughts and reactions). when, for a moment, we have let them go, we can notice how relieved we feel, and we get a taste of voidness liberation. then we let thoughts and reactions return and realize the difference. immediately irritation arises, which usually escapes our awareness because we're used to a mind full of formations. we experience the heavy, debilitating, burdensome nature of thoughts only when we are able to compare our usual mind states with momentary emptiness. this may be the first time that we notice the constant sense bombardment we commonly experience.

the most insidious irritations arise through thinking. thought is a constant process with which we identify and then act upon. we can't act upon everything we see or hear. if we see a beautiful sunset or hear some great music, there's nothing to do about it, except to like it. no need for a reaction, which may easily result in new problems. even the most innocuous situations can cause friction if we identify with our thinking process. once we express our views, hopes, and beliefs, the argument starts, and tears start flowing."

be nobody

chapter from be an island by ayya khema

being happy also means being peaceful, but quite often people do not really want to direct their attention to that. peacefulness connotes 'not interesting' or 'not enough happening,' the absence of proliferations or excitement. yet peace is very hard to find anywhere. it is difficult to attain, and very few people really work at it. peace seems to negate life, to deny our personal supremacy. only those who practice a spiritual discipline care to direct their mind toward it.

our natural tendency is to cultivate our superiority, which often falls into the other extreme of inferiority. so long as we have our own superiority in mind, we cannot find peace. all we find is a power game: 'anything you can do, i can do better.' or at times when it is quite obvious that this is not so, then it's 'anything you can do, i cannot do as well.' there are moments of truth in everyone's life when one sees quite clearly that one can't do everything as well as the next person, whether it's sweeping a path or writing a book.

a feeling of superiority or inferiority is the opposite of peacefulness. a display of one's abilities, or the lack of them, will produce restlessness. there is always the reaching out, the craving for a result in the form of other people's admiration or their denial of it. when they deny it, there is warfare. when they affirm it, there is victory.

in war there is never a winner, only losers. no matter who signs the peace treaty first, both sides lose. the same applies to a feeling of being victorious, of being the one who knows better or who is stronger or cleverer. battle and peace do not go well together.

one wonders in the end, does anybody really want peace? is anybody really trying to get it? we must inquire into our innermost hearts if peace is what we really want. such an inquiry is difficult. most people have a thick steel door in front of their hearts. they cannot find out what is going on inside. but everyone needs to try to get in as far as possible and check their priorities.

in moments of turmoil, when we are either not getting the supremacy we want or we feel really inferior, then all we desire is peace. when our unrest and feeling of inferiority subside, then what happens? is it really peace we want? or do we want to be somebody special, somebody important or lovable?

a 'somebody' never has peace. there is an interesting simile about a mango tree. a king went riding in the forest and encountered a mango tree laden with fruit. he said to his servants, 'go back in the evening and collect the mangoes,' because he wanted them for the royal dining table. the servants went back to the forest but returned to the palace empty-handed. 'sorry, your majesty,' they told the king, 'the mangoes were all gone, there was not a single mango left on the tree.' the king thought the servants had been too lazy to go back to the forest, so he rode out to see for himself. what he saw instead of a beautiful mango tree laden with fruit was a pitiful, bedraggled tree. someone had broken all the branches to take the fruit. as the king rode a little farther, he came upon another mango tree, beautiful in all its green splendor, but without a single fruit. nobody had wanted to go near it. it bore no fruit, so it was left in peace. the king went back to his palace, gave his royal crown and scepter to his ministers, and said, 'you may now have the kingdom, i am going to live in a hut in the forest.'

when one is nobody and has nothing, there is no danger of warfare or attack, and there is peace. the mango tree laden with fruit did not have a moment's peace; everybody wanted its fruit. if we really want peace, we have to be nobody. neither important, nor clever, nor beautiful, nor famous, nor right, nor in charge of anything. we need to be unobtrusive and have as few attributes as possible. the mango tree with no fruit was standing peacefully in all its splendor, giving shade. to be nobody does not mean doing nothing. it means acting without self-display and without craving for results. the mango tree had shade to give, but it did not display its wares or fret whether anyone wanted its shade. this ability allows for inner peace. it is a rare ability, because most people vacillate from one extreme to another, either doing nothing and thinking, 'let them see how they get along without me,' or being in charge and projecting their views and ideas.

being somebody, it seems, is so much more ingrained and important than having peace. so we need to inquire with great care what we are truly looking for. what is it that we want out of life? if we want to be important, appreciated, and loved, then we have to take their opposites in stride. every positive brings with it a negative, just as the sun throws shadows. if we want one, we must accept the other, without moaning about it.

but if we really want a peaceful heart and mind, inner security, and stability, then we have to give up wanting to be somebody, anybody. body and mind will not disappear because of that; what subsides is the urge to affirm the importance and supremacy of this particular person whom i call 'me.'

every human being considers [themself] important. there are billions of people on this globe, how many will mourn us? count them for a moment. six or eight, or twelve or fifteen, out of all these billions. maybe we have a vastly exaggerated idea of our own importance. the more we understand this, the easier life is.

wanting to be somebody is dangerous. it is like playing with a fire, and it hurts constantly. and other people will not play by our rules. people who really manage to be somebody, like heads of state, invariably need a bodyguard because they are in danger of their lives.

among the countless things in our world -- all the people, animals, and natural and man-made objects -- the only ones we have any jurisdiction over are our own heart and mind. if we really want to be somebody, we could try to be that rare person who is in charge of his own heart and mind. becoming somebody like that is not only very rare, it also brings the most beneficial results. such a person does not fall into the trap of the defilements.

there is a story about achaan cha, a famous meditation master in northeast thailand. he was once accused of having a lot of hatred. achaan cha replied, 'that may be so, but i don't make any use of it.' an answer like this comes from a deep understanding of one's own nature. it is a rare person who will not allow himself defiled thought, speech, or action. such a person is really somebody. he does not have to prove it to anyone else because it is quite obvious, not to mention that he has no desire to prove anything. there is only one abiding interest and that is one's own peace of mind.

when we have peace of mind as our priority, everything in the mind and all speech or action is directed toward it. anything that does not create peace of mind is discarded. we must not confuse this with being right or having the last word, however. others need not agree. peace of mind is our own. we can all find it if we make the effort.

solitary mind

quotes from be an island by ayya khema

"when we can abandon distracting thoughts while meditating on the breath, we can use the same skill to protect our mind at all times. the more we learn to shut our mind-door to the negativities that disturb our inner peace, the easier our life becomes. peace of mind is not indifference. recognizing and letting go is not suppression. a peaceful mind is a compassionate mind.
[suffering] is self-made and self-perpetuated. if we are sincere in wanting to get rid of it, we have to watch the mind carefully. we have to gain insight into what is really happening within. what triggers us? how do we react? there are innumerable triggers, but only two reactions. one is equanimity, the other craving."

"if there is such a thing as the deathless, and if we recognize that birth is [suffering], then what is left to us other than the path toward the deathless? it is not enough to try meditation tentatively, hoping for some bliss and to learn some of the buddha's teaching to improve our interaction with others. it is enough only when the heart says, 'there are no other choices but to attain the deathless.'
one certain way of reaching that conviction is having sufficient [suffering]. of course, nobody would wish that for anyone else, but the experience of much suffering is often enough to turn the tide. there are many stories from the buddha's lifetime when women in particular were experiencing so much [suffering], losing their families and loved ones, that they had no other choices left. in our society there may be too many alternatives left. . . if we look at any of the alternatives we can conjure up, we recognize each one of them as a sense contact - which is always short-lived. unless that becomes entirely clear, our spiritual growth will always be shaky."

"we need courage to choose the way of the dhamma. if we take the path leading out of [suffering], we have to leave a lot of attachments and support systems behind. that takes courage. we discard much of that which we once believed to bring fulfillment and happiness. we need courage to break with that and begin to stand alone. . . we begin to loosen our attachments, our clinging and belonging. we recognize beyond any doubt that there is nothing more important to be done than treading the path to enlightenment. then all our energies and priorities are geared to this objective."

"a malleable mind is pliable, moves freely, and embraces everything. whenever we notice some inner change in ourselves, we need to recollect it repeatedly so as to make it second nature. one such change is becoming less concerned with comforts, belongings, ideas, hopes, and wishes. we become more and more concerned with what we can give, how we can grow, and whether we are making wholesome karma. investigating further, we can try letting go of being a separate person for a moment and instead feeling part of all that exists. as long as we are caught within the barrier of our own minds and bodies, we cannot find true happiness. . .
giving oneself completely is difficult for most of us, because we think we are losing ourselves. actually we gain everything -- all spiritual teachings are agreed on that. whatever we use as our personal identity constitutes our prison. letting go is freedom. when we do experience a moment of letting go, we mistakenly think that it was due to a certain situation or person. but in reality we experience freedom whenever we let go of what we're clinging to. giving in and giving up are tiny lights at the end of the tunnel that let us know freedom is possible."

"solitude can be fully experienced only when there is inner peace. otherwise loneliness pushes us to remedy feelings of emptiness and loss. 'where is everybody? what can i do without some companionship? i must discuss my problems.' mindfulness is able to take care of all that, because it arises in the present moment and has nothing to do with the future or past. it keeps us totally occupied and saves us from making mistakes. the greater our mindfulness, the fewer the mistakes. errors on the mundane level have repercussions for the spiritual path. when our lack of mindfulness leads us to inflict [suffering] on ourselves, we will try again and again to find someone who is to blame or someone who can distract us.
ideal solitude arises when a person can be alone or with others and retain the same inner calm, not getting caught in someone else's difficulties. we may respond in an appropriate manner, but we are not affected. we all have our own inner life, but we get to know it well only when the mind stops chattering and we can attend to our inner feelings. once we have seen what is happening inside of us, we will want to change some of it. . . our inner stress and lack of peace push us to find someone who will remove our [suffering], but only we can do it.
the solitary mind can have profound and original thoughts, whereas a dependent mind thinks in cliches because it wants approval. a worldly mind that understands only superficialities cannot grasp the profundity of the buddha's teaching."

"depth of understanding makes release from suffering possible. when we go deeper and deeper and find no core, we learn to let go of even deep-seated attachments. whether what we find within us is pure and commendable or impure and unpleasant makes no difference. all mental states that we own and cherish keep us in duality, in midair, in insecurity, and cannot bring an end to suffering. . .
even if we agree with the buddha's words and find them plausible, without the certainty of personal experience they will be of limited assistance. to have direct knowledge, we must sink like a stone, untied to anything, down to the bottom of all our obstructions. to see the truth, we need a powerful mind, a weighty mind. as long as the mind is interested in petty concerns, it will not have sufficient weight to attain deep understanding."