6 Faith and ConfidenceSTEP 2
THE SECOND STEP in transcendental dependent arising is faith and confidence. When we have actually realized that unsatisfactoriness is inherent in worldly existence, there comes a time when we look for something not of a worldly nature that may relieve us of our unsatisfactoriness. If we find a spiritual teaching, faith or confidence in it may arise. Such confidence is a matter of the heart and not of the mind, because at the start of our practice we cannot possibly have our own experience of the teaching. Therefore, we cannot confirm that it is true, based on reasoning and knowledge. But a feeling in the heart can tell us that here is a transcendental truth, more profound than anything we have previously heard or read. Confidence and faith also contain love, since we can only be confident about something we love. If there is no heart connection, we can’t trust implicitly.
Those who have much doubt find it very difficult to give themselves completely to anything or anyone. They always want to hold themselves back a bit, wishing to own part of themselves completely. As a result, they cannot flow wholeheartedly. If we hold ourselves back, our spiritual progress is very much impaired.
There is no closer relationship than the one we have with our own spiritual path. It is the closest connection we can possibly have. If we have a relationship with another person, such as in a marriage, and we don’t give ourselves to it wholeheartedly, but have constant doubts about whether this is the right person and the right situation, the marriage will not be successful. Yet when one first gets married, one doesn’t know what may eventuate. This also holds true for the spiritual path. When we first enter it, we don’t know what may result. We don’t understand a lot of the teaching yet. We have few reference points, because so far we haven’t looked into ourselves deeply enough. However, unless we give ourselves to the path wholeheartedly, our practice cannot possibly be a success.
Few people are capable of wholehearted commitment, and that is why so few people experience a real transformation through their spiritual practice. It is a matter of giving up our own viewpoints, of letting go of opinions and preconceived ideas, and of following the Buddha’s guidelines instead. Although this sounds simple, in practice most people find it extremely difficult. Their ingrained viewpoints, based on deductions derived from cultural and social norms, are in the way.
We must also remember that heart and mind need to work together. If we understand something rationally but don’t love it, there is no completeness for us, no fulfillment. If we love something but don’t understand it, the same applies. If we have a relationship with another person, and we love the person but don’t understand him or her, the relationship is incomplete; if we understand the person but don’t love him or her, it is equally unfulfilling. How much more so on our spiritual path. We have to understand the meaning of the teaching, and also love it. In the beginning our understanding will only be partial, so our love has to be even greater.
Faith and confidence are based on the opening of the heart, and the letting go of our own notions of what the teaching and the teacher should represent. Our expectations need to be discarded, since they are based on assumptions and not facts. We can become like a child holding his mother’s hand to cross a busy street, having confidence that his mother will know best. If we are able to give ourselves in that way, a feeling of happiness arises.
The Buddha compared faith to a blind giant who meets up with a very sharp-eyed cripple, called Wisdom. The blind giant, called Faith, says to the sharp-eyed cripple, “I am very strong, but I can’t see; you are very weak, but you have sharp eyes. Come and ride on my shoulders. Together we will go far.” The Buddha never supported blind faith, but a balance between heart and mind, between wisdom and faith. The two together will go far.
The saying that blind faith can move mountains unfortunately omits the fact that, being blind, faith doesn’t know which mountain needs moving. That’s where wisdom is essential, which means that a thorough understanding of the teaching is crucial. Even if, at the beginning, the Dhamma seems difficult or alien, we have to make our inquiry wholeheartedly. If we work on anything, whether planting a garden or building a house, it has to be done wholeheartedly. That kind of endeavor promises success. Everything else is like dabbling in yet another new hobby.
Only when we have realized that there is no other way out of unsatisfactoriness will we be ready to immerse ourselves deeply. If we are still looking for a loophole, looking for happiness in the world, our commitment to the spiritual practice is not complete. Spiritual practice touches upon the raw edges in ourselves and reaches deeply within, where in the end we may not recognize ourselves any more. We can compare this to turning ourselves inside out; that which we like to hide from ourselves and others has to be made visible. Only then can it be healed. Because this is difficult and often painful, our commitment has to be total, deriving from the understanding of understanding.
If we think the world has the answer to our quest for happiness, only we haven’t found it yet, we surely will not engage in such a difficult task, but rather we will continue looking for the missing link in the world. The world is so full of manifold distractions and manifold opportunities, temptations, and beauty that a whole lifetime is not sufficient to explore it all.
We need total conviction, not only of unsatisfactoriness, but also of truth when we hear it, with our mind being fully attuned. The Buddha said that “those who have little dust in their eyes” when hearing the truth will know it to be the truth, and wholehearted commitment follows. This doesn’t mean that we can no longer fulfill our daily obligations. On the contrary, we can attend to them much better, because they are now just a side issue, no longer the main item. Priority is given to our spiritual growth.
Our daily activities, while still taking up time, energy, and responsibility, no longer seem to impinge on us in the same manner that they used to when they were our only concern. We looked for perfection in these activities, because otherwise we would have felt we were lacking ability. Now we can see their changing and repetitive nature, necessary to keep alive, but resembling the revolutions of a merry-go-round. No longer are they the only important aspect of our lives, and this results in more ease of living. We are not so concerned about being correct or perfect, because we know there is something more profound that matters far more to us.
From this point onward we watch over our spiritual growth as we would over a fragile plant in our garden. We nurture, feed, and protect it from all adversity. Our whole human existence is fragile as long as we have not yet become one of the noble ones; only then will we be secure. Until such a time, there is always the danger of making bad karma, of indulgence, and of anger that may retard our growth.
We could become quite satisfied with ourselves because we are sitting in meditation and are endeavoring to practice the spiritual path. Such satisfaction with ourselves is not the same as contentment. Contentment is necessary, self-satisfaction is detrimental. To be content has to include knowing we are in the right place at the right time to facilitate our own growth. But to be self-satisfied means that we no longer realize the need for growth. All these aspects are important parts of our commitment, and they make us into one whole being with a one-pointed direction.
Confidence is indispensable on the spiritual path. Of the Three Jewels—the Buddha, Dhamma, and Sangha—the Dhamma is the most important for us.
At the time of the Buddha there was a monk who was so infatuated with the Buddha that he followed him around like a puppy dog. Wherever the Buddha went, this monk went too. One day the monk became very ill and had to stay in bed. As he was lying in bed he started crying. When the other monks came to see him, they asked him, “Why are you crying? You are not that ill. What’s the matter?”
He said, “I am crying because, being ill, I can’t see the Buddha.”
The other monks replied, “Do not worry, we’ll tell the Buddha. He will come and visit you.”
Upon learning this, the Buddha immediately came to visit the sick monk, who brightened up and looked happy again. Then the Buddha said to him, “Whoever sees me sees the Dhamma; whoever sees the Dhamma sees me.”
Whoever sees a buddha sees nothing but enlightenment, which is the essence of the Dhamma. Whoever can see the Dhamma within sees the Buddha, equaling enlightenment. The greatest jewel is recognizing the Dhamma in oneself and not being attached to any one person, even the Buddha, who only wants to be our guide. When true confidence arises in the Dhamma, it gives great impetus to the practice. Such a jewel is worth more than any precious thing in the whole world, because it enables us to surpass and transcend all worldly problems and difficulties. They do not disappear, but we no longer recognize them as a hindrance because we have seen absolute truth.
Faith and confidence as an indispensable part of spiritual practice include reverence and gratitude. These are qualities that we can deliberately foster in ourselves, as they are not so commonly expressed. We need some ideal to revere, and we can be grateful that we have now found one worth honoring, namely the greatest jewel that exists, the law of nature, the Dhamma, which shows us absolute reality. Reverence for that is embodied in our attitude to life around us, because there is nothing in the whole of existence that does not contain the Dhamma, which itself is impermanence, unsatisfactoriness, and corelessness. Wherever we look, outside or inside, everything proclaims that Dhamma. Reverence for Dhamma enables us to have compassion for life and for all that exists, because there is nothing but these three characteristics, and therefore everything contains suffering. Our love and respect for the Dhamma is recognizable in our attitude toward others and toward our practice. In the Japanese Zen tradition we find a very nice custom of meditators greeting their cushion and other meditators before they sit down, showing reverence for the cushion they are going to use and the persons practicing with them.
The more we can imbue ourselves with such attitudes, the more gentle and accepting we will feel. Reverence shows that there is something greater than we are ourselves, greater than our own opinions and abilities, something we can use as an ultimate goal. Reverence is a commitment to faith.
Gratitude is an expression of love and connectedness and it may be extended toward the teaching, the practice, the place, the other practitioners, toward everyone and everything that forms part of life. We can be grateful for our good karma enabling us to enter the Noble Path. All these qualities—faith, confidence, and gratitude—help us to empty ourselves of personal pride and some of our personality beliefs, because we have found a greater reality beyond our limited self-concern.
Faith, which is inspired by the truth we hear, needs a firm foundation of inquiry and love, but it should never be blind. The Buddha said, “The whole of the universe, oh monks, lies in this fathom-long body and mind.” (The fathom is an old-fashioned measurement, which today might be translated as six feet or so.) If the whole universe can be found in our own body and mind, this is where we need to make our inquiries. We all have the answers within ourselves, we just have not gotten in touch with them yet. The potential of finding the truth within requires faith in ourselves. Without it, we will often waver and will not be able to succeed to the very end. Complete and utter faith means that we are sure of the path, although we haven’t experienced the truth yet. It is an inner agreement, an inner acceptance, and a turning wholly toward transcendence in order to provide relief, release, freedom, liberation.
If the whole universe lies in our body and mind, we also need love for ourselves. If we can’t love, we can’t have faith. We need the love that embraces commitment, a feeling of wholeness within ourselves and with the practice, of not being split into two, sometimes practicing and at other times forgetting. When there is faith and confidence, the result is a totality of being and direction.
QUESTIONS
STUDENT: If there is corelessness, whom do we love? Isn’t that a contradiction?
AYYA KHEMA: It only seems like a contradiction because there are two levels of understanding. On the level of absolute truth there isn’t anything. No birth, no death, no person. But on the level of relative truth, we have to work with our emotions and our difficulties. We’re talking on a relative level, because on the absolute level we wouldn’t be speaking to each other. There would be nobody there for discussion. On our level, love is the important emotion. Sometimes this may sound like a paradox, but we can only work on the relative level. Once we have reached the absolute level, we have nothing to say.
S: I am starting to accumulate questions. I have two at this point. Does contemplation lead to insight for everyone? Also, you said earlier that one cannot meditate when unhappy or without joy. Could you please explain?
AK: Contemplation should lead to insight, but that is the same as saying that meditation should lead to liberation. Not everybody has enough determination and perseverance to gain insight. If we contemplate a universal truth such as impermanence, our mind may balk at deeper levels of understanding and refuse to reach a point where it becomes meaningful. The mind may say, “All is impermanent, certainly,” and then give up. Insight only arises when impermanence is seen as such a penetrating aspect of ourselves that nothing solid can be found. It’s quite possible that one contemplates and yet one still fails to gain any insight.
S: What is the cause of that, and what can be done about it?
AK: It is caused by fear, which is a human condition…the fear of annihilation of this supposed person, either through physical death or not enough emotional ego support, and it may arise particularly when we come near to seeing impermanence in ourselves very strongly. Then there is great fear, even panic, that we may find a truth we don’t want to know, namely that this identity, this personality, is a myth. Fear is the first and foremost hindrance to going deeper. When the meditation improves, all these fears disappear, because meditation itself becomes a substitute for our own viewpoints. In the beginning, fear is the greatest obstacle. The remedy is perseverance.
S: Why do you say that one cannot meditate when unhappy or without joy?
AK: One can certainly try to meditate, but the result will be unsatisfactory. The mind that is unhappy and bothered by something will constantly return to that bother—as when you have an itch and constantly return to scratch that same itch. The mind has to be at ease, at peace, in order to become really calm. So far, we have used a method for meditation which is equivalent to a training period. Soon we will discuss how it becomes true meditation. The mind has to be calm and at ease in order to become absorbed.
S: Is it true that as long as there is some kind of discursiveness—in other words, as long as this problem or that problem keeps intervening—we don’t have true meditation? And if this is so, should we persist?
AK: Absolutely.
S: You mentioned that the spiritual path may turn one inside out. One’s problems, which one would rather not expose, are exposed. Yet one should have calm and peace. So how does that contradiction resolve itself? Anyone who has practiced knows that a lot of things come up that don’t help one to be calm.
AK: That is quite true. We resist, are ashamed, and blame ourselves for our difficulties and defilements, and would much rather they hadn’t arisen. That introduces turbulence into the mind and is detrimental to meditation. However, if we accept all that we see in ourselves, then abandon it and substitute wholesome thinking, no agitation will follow. If we accept things the way they are, and do not try to alter them, and if we keep impermanence and nonself in mind, we shall gain the needed learning experience without emotional turmoil. Even though one hasn’t realized corelessness yet, if we have faith in the Buddha’s teaching, we know it is the ultimate truth. In that case, there is nothing to worry about when we turn ourselves inside out and some of the rubbish shows. We are keeping the whole of the teaching in mind, and specifically that which brings liberation. Then we learn to be grateful for the defilements; if we deal with them in a sensible manner, we may be able to let go and avoid falling into the same errors again. Naturally, there will be times when we can’t just drop our habitual responses and the defilements will recur. It would be nice if this didn’t happen, but if we understand this and just accept it, it’s no tragedy. On the contrary, it is just another of our lessons on this path.
S: I find it very difficult to combine the ordinary day-to-day life in New York, where I live, with spiritual practice. Do you have any suggestions?
AK: It is quite true, of course, that there will be difficulties. Eventually, we find our own priorities. If it is more important to follow the spiritual path and make that our life, we will find our way out of Manhattan, maybe to Pleasant Bay. There are always some people who are able to do it, because they have seen a different reality. But if we are caught up in the distractions and temptations of ordinary life, we won’t see clearly enough to find out just yet. Maybe at a later stage…
S: This is probably going to sound like a very vague question. I really seem to be confused. You seem to stress that whatever comes up isn’t workable. You are not really saying that, are you?
AK: No. Please continue with your question.
S: I studied on my own many of Chögyam Trungpa Rinpoche’s books, and some of this seems to me to contradict his teaching. I always had the impression that whatever came up is really valuable, only distorted; that we can take whatever comes up and really get into it and work with it. It seems to me that you are saying that although we have to work with it, though perhaps to a lesser degree, we should then get rid of it and go for this ideal.
AK: When you say “whatever comes up,” are you talking about thoughts? Or something else?
S: Strong emotions. Overwhelming emotions.
AK: Emotions and thoughts during meditation, is that what you are asking about? A very important way to work with these is to label them, drop them, and then go back to the breath. To get into them and explore them would halt any meditative procedure. That couldn’t even be called contemplation, because these are personal and not universal emotions. When we can change the individual problem into a universal application, it could be used for contemplation.
You are actually looking at different stages of development in meditation. Meditation develops slowly for most people. In the beginning we try to keep the subject of meditation in mind—in this case the breath—and label whatever arises in order to gain insight into ourselves. We give the disturbance a name, identify it, so that we know what it is; then we drop it and get back to the breath. The thought or emotion dissolves by itself after having been labeled, because we have become an objective observer. We are no longer subjective. As an observer we watch the occurrence, but we do not go into it, and therefore there is space for the emotion to fold up and vanish. These are very important lessons which all of us need to learn.
As one continues, meditation becomes more one-pointed so that one can begin to experience absorption. Meditation absorptions are the means, not the goal, of meditation; however, they are a necessary means for gaining insight. The mind that has problems is concerned with solving or lamenting them but is not geared to insight into absolute reality, which is the goal of meditation. We need to prepare the mind to become so calm, one-pointed, and strong that it will no longer flinch when it is confronted by the deepest truth. People who have been meditating for some years do not usually experience as many defilements and distractions as they did at the beginning.
S: Well, absorption might have thrown me off. I don’t really relate to that very well.
AK: The word?
S: The state.
AK: Not having experienced it is comparable to not having tasted a mango. It’s difficult to talk about the taste of a mango when one doesn’t know what it is. But at least we can be aware that such meditative states exist and are part of transcendental dependent arising. Does that sound better? “Meditative absorption” is the English translation of the Pali word jhāna, which is much shorter and much more to the point.