14 DisenchantmentSTEP 9
IN THIS PROGRESSION of transcendental dependent arising, joy is an indispensable quality for meditation. Joy stems from gratitude and happiness when we realize that we have the good fortune to listen to the true Dhamma. The meditative steps then lead to insight. We can see that the meditative absorptions are preconditions for the attainment of wisdom, because the mind that has become calm and collected is capable of “knowing things as they really are.” The discursive, excited, aggressive, worried, problematic mind cannot be still long enough to ponder deeply and realize intuitively. Such a mind is concerned with whatever it contains. Once we become the master of our mind, we will no longer allow the mind to contain negativities.
States of insight are an automatic and natural progression from meditative calm if we follow the Buddha’s directives. However, when the mind does not have sufficient concentration ability, or the wish to become absorbed, it can still attain degrees of insight, such as already described. Terror is then a step on the insight path. A totally happy, peaceful, expandable mind will not be able to experience terror, but the mind mostly concerned with insight will experience strong fear. Often the person who experiences this will stop the practice, or may feel that something is wrong with them. They have heard all about these wonderful meditative states in which the mind is completely empty, and yet, all of a sudden, terror arises.
The great gift of the Buddha’s teaching lies in the use of analysis, of step-by-step explanations. If we don’t know what we are doing, we will not get very far, because we will either turn our back on it or be puzzled and insecure. Terror and fear need to be accepted as a necessary step, because at that point the mind has seen a different reality, namely the dissolution of all that has arisen, whether it concerns mind or matter. No thought can be retained; it disappears. So does the breath, and even the body when we are concentrating deeply. Where am I then? The question may arise: “What am I doing this for? I thought I was going to get happiness out of it; all I am getting is fear.” Then the wish to backtrack may enter the mind, back to a far more pleasant reality. But once we have gained insight we cannot step back again; that is not the way out of terror.
After having experienced terror we must investigate that which is being terrorized. We will realize that our fear stems from the fact that we cannot find the person who is trying so hard to get on the spiritual path, to gain insight and liberation. We can’t find him or her because all states associated with “me” are dissolving and disappearing. Now we can get a very clear idea of the dangerous aspect of all “formations,” meaning all that arises. Everything that is formed, and therefore exists, brings the danger of extinction with it. Not only does everything dissolve and disappear, but we are attached to formations of all sorts, our own and others’, and therefore we are constantly open to loss and bereavement.
A house, for instance, is a formation and has an impeding quality, such as is present everywhere. It impedes our thoughts, actions, time, energy, and abilities. Everything that exists has to be looked after, yet it decays and disappears nevertheless.
The impeding element inherent in all forms and formations is associated with a signifying quality. Not only does our body need continual care and attention, but the mind also has to respond to sense contacts and is under constant pressure to keep out of trouble. We say, “I am feeling pressured, tense, or threatened.” Naturally the pressure is there because of all the things that confront us through our senses, to which we react constantly. We have all experienced this for years on end, but we always thought we could get out of it somehow by going somewhere else or doing something else. Movement conceals unsatisfactoriness.
But when we see, through insight, the dangerous capacity inherent in all that exists to impede us and to signify the need for judgment and response, terror subsides. We realize that the terror was actually justified, a true experience on the path to liberation. At such times one needs a teacher to help and advise, otherwise the mind may balk at this rigorous uncovering of truth. That is why the Buddha exhorted his followers again and again to go through the meditative absorptions to give the mind a counterbalance of happiness. A calm and joyful mind has no objection to seeing a different kind of reality.
Having seen the dangers inherent in all formations, we realize that there is nothing to be gained by our being here. Consequently, the desire for deliverance arises, which is a most significant point in insight meditation. It occurs because we feel deeply that existence has nothing to offer—although this feeling does not infer a dislike of existence, which would only sap our energy. Up to that point we have consciously or subconsciously thought that existence in one of the higher or deva realms would be desirable, something like paradise. Now we realize that all existence is fraught with the same pressures on mind and body.
Desire for deliverance is conjoined with urgency. Urgency is a very important aspect of one’s mental makeup; it prevents procrastination. The Buddha often reminded us that life is very uncertain, and death is inevitable. We don’t know how long we shall be able to practice. It’s not a matter of age; we just have no guarantees. This helps us to be in each moment and let go of past memories and future hopes. Urgency comes from the desire for deliverance, as we take account of the dangers of existence and realize that nothing can be found that provides complete satisfaction, lasting and total fulfillment. We can have momentary pleasure, but by now we have long since seen that momentary pleasure does not satisfy our quest. At this point disenchantment sets in.
Disenchantment (nibbīdâ) is a combination of knowing the danger inherent in existence and the desire for deliverance. We have realized that pleasant feelings are just as impermanent as unpleasant feelings, even in the meditative absorptions. With disenchantment, we come to a significant point in our practice. This is the last step on the insight path; the next step is the platform from which we can cross to the other shore. At this time we are automatically investigating the three characteristics of impermanence, unsatisfactoriness, and corelessness to see whether they actually apply to everything. It is no longer necessary to point our mind deliberately in that direction, because the mind now reflects consistently. We want to be sure that what we have understood so far is correct.
The mind reflects on all the phenomena it encounters. It may investigate the four primary elements, and it is no longer fooled into believing that the world contains ultimate value, importance, or continuity. The mind is imbued with urgency for deliverance, because it has truly experienced unsatisfactoriness and has understood it. A teacher can be supportive and helpful, but the real work has to be done by the student. This is one of the most fascinating aspects of the Buddha’s teaching, namely, that this is a “do it yourself” job. The only things given are a map with signposts and instructions on its use, but we have to travel under our own steam.
Having investigated the three characteristics sufficiently, we naturally come to the understanding that they are a true description of ultimate reality. Everything is of an impermanent nature and therefore cannot be totally fulfilling, or contain a core substance. It is important to find these aspects in ourselves, but we can profitably investigate all that surrounds us.
Our investigation depends on which one of the three aspects we find most interesting. All three are, of course, interconnected and lead to the same goal. A person who has a lot of faith and confidence usually works with impermanence. It is so prominent in the teaching that the confident mind automatically veers toward it. A person with a great deal of concentration usually likes to investigate unsatisfactoriness, and one who is more analytical prefers to delve into corelessness, substancelessness.
To investigate the last of these, our own five aggregates become our working ground (kammaṭṭhāna) in meditation as well as in daily living, akin to a workshop. We observe the arising and ceasing of each of the aggregates to see whether we can find an enduring core or substance in either the body or any one of the four aspects of the mind (feeling, perception, mental formations, and sense consciousness). When disenchantment has set in, this investigative procedure becomes of paramount interest. The mind already knows that everything dissolves, but that realization was connected with a great deal of suffering. In its calm state of disenchantment, the mind wants to renew that understanding now. Only when we repeat an inner realization many times will it become part of our own nature. When we come to the same conclusion time and time again—that there is nothing and nobody who owns any of the aggregates, that there is no core, that all is void of substance—we will create this reality in our inner being. Then we can relate to that feeling at any time we wish.
The mind knows whatever it is directed to. When the mind turns to cooking, it will know about cooking; when it is directed toward gardening, it will know only gardening. When the mind turns to the investigation of its own true nature and already possesses some insight, it will know that there is no substance to be found.
In our daily activities, the primary aspect of mind is mindfulness, or bare attention. On the insight path, the mind deals with the intuitive understanding of all phenomena. Our minds need a lot of convincing. The attainment of liberation or freedom is a slow and arduous process, frequently even tedious, and sometimes appears to make no progress at all. At other times, profound insights follow each other so quickly that we would like to step back and say, “Not so fast, I am not quite ready for all this!” But one can’t do that, because the practice takes on its own momentum.
Investigation and contemplation can be done at any time—during meditation, while watching the ocean, or even while just walking. Whenever the mind wants to turn to its true nature, it will reflect upon it. I hope your heart was open to these words.
QUESTIONS
STUDENT: What is important in being a monk or a nun in the Buddha’s dispensation?
AYYA KHEMA: A personality that is useful in the marketplace is useless in the monastery. The marketplace personality wants to be right, is aggressive, knows better, achieves, and becomes. That kind of personality will encounter difficulties in human relationships. In a monastery humility is of prime importance. It’s one of the principal qualities we need in order to live together. The people who come together in a monastery are all very different and have little in common other than their desire to find a way out of suffering. Most of them are not even quite sure what their suffering is. That suffering is in our own mind is a truth we only discover later. We can constantly learn from one another and need not try to be more clever than others.
Everybody has suffering, and to be able to extend one’s love and compassion toward others is an important aspect of togetherness.
In a monastery there are fewer distractions than in lay life, and therefore we know our suffering more intimately. When one has love and compassion in one’s heart, then even dreary winters and tedious practice are quite bearable.
Togetherness works if we extend helpfulness toward one another. We all need a support system. The Buddha had the Venerable Ananda as a friend and attendant. That was his support system. It wasn’t necessarily an emotional help, but it was certainly physical. People who live together have to support each other. This includes talking honestly about one’s difficulties, so that one can live together as a loving family. The emotional support system prevalent in a family should also exist in a monastery.
Respect and politeness are the first steps toward loving-kindness. They are important because they provide an acceptable, graceful manner of dealing with others. Not wanting to be somebody, but learning to be nobody, is the ultimate result of good practice.