Edited from a recorded talk given by Ajahn
Brahmavamso during a 9-day meditation retreat in 1997, Perth,
Western Australia.
So this evening's talk will be a Dhamma talk
rather than a question time because I missed giving the Dhamma talk
this morning and one of the monks reminded me at tea time that this
retreat has gone to Thursday now. So there's only actually a couple
more dhamma talks left. So he said it's about time I got into the "oomphy"
Dhamma talks and the "oomphy" Dhamma talk this evening is talking
about anatta. I'm going to bring this one
up right now because it's going to bring together a few threads
about what I've been talking about so far. If the talk goes
according to the direction I want it to go, I'm also going to bring
in how we use the perspective of anatta,
how to develop the deeper stages of meditation, and wherever you are
in your meditation how this perspective, looking at things through
the prism of anatta can help develop the
meditation into more profound and deeper levels.
I did say in an earlier talk that it's through
wisdom power that you get very deep in meditation not through mere
willpower and a little bit of insight, a little bit of
understanding. Seeing this process from a different perspective has
enormous power to quieten the mind down, and so I wanted to
especially emphasise this in the latter part of this talk how
anatta can be used in this process of
meditation. But first of all, just the meaning of anatta
should be apprehended by us and it's one of those subjects, or
the subject in Buddhism, which to many
people is very hard to understand and to get your mind around, and
that by itself is a good point for insight to arise. Why in many
parts of Buddhism when we come to the teaching of anatta
there's something inside us which rebels? That is the illusion of
self getting uncomfortable. This is stirring up something which is
very deeply rooted inside us and something which does not want to
even contemplate anatta, non-self, and
that is a symptom of the whole problem. The Buddha was very
uncompromising when he taught anatta and
it's one of the reasons why people find it a bit difficult because
there's no way around. When you read the Buddha's teachings, there's
no way around coming to the conclusion that there is no-one in here.
There is no controller. There is no knower. There is no doer. There
is no self, no soul, no being. And this uncompromising conclusion
which you get from looking at the teachings causes you to actually
investigate because so much other teachings of the Buddha seem to be
so powerful, so deep, so true, so effective, and this one, seems to
be the hard one. It is the hard one because
on the realisation of anatta, of
uncovering the illusion of self that, the whole path towards
enlightenment revolves. This is the insight, the discovery, the
understanding which changes one from just being a person who wanders
around the samsara, lifetime after lifetime, to one who is on the
way out of the samsara, inevitably, certainly, surely bound for
Nibbana. It's the crux, the fulcrum, of the whole practice. Why is
it difficult to see? It's difficult to see because we don't want to
see it, but at least we can get a handle on what the Buddha was
talking about, because first of all that he asked you to not look at
anatta from a philosophical point of view
- which is one of the big mistakes as we intellectualise it - but
to start looking at anatta from the
practical point of view: how it affects our views, perceptions,
thoughts, in particular, to look at what do we take to be a self, a
soul, a me. And this is where we really get to grip with this
teaching of anatta: how we use it. Instead
of thinking "is there a self?" or "who am I?", you say "what do I
perceive my self to be? What do I perceive is mine? What do I think
is me? What do I think is mine? What do I know? What do I view as
me? What do I view as mine?". And here the Buddha started taking
apart this illusion bit by bit.
First of all, you've got to identify what this
illusion is. The illusion is all your perceptions which assume a
self, all your thoughts which conclude there's a self, and all your
views which think there's somebody there. What is all of this? This
is what we call like the mirage. The simile of a mirage is powerful
because you know with a mirage there is some aspect which is real
there. A mirage is not pure imagination. In a mirage there is a real
light arriving in your eyes. There is an image on the back of your
eyes. The point is that the brain or the mind misinterprets what
you're seeing and gives it an interpretation, gives it a label which
it does not deserve. The mirage thinks there's a body of water there
or rather the mind interprets the mirage to be a body of water on
the road. But we all know it's just the light being reflected from
the sky. This is a mirage of the self. Now in order to find out it's
a mirage we've got to actually know what this is that we're
misinterpreting, to know this experience we are taking to be a self
. It's incredible sometimes that even the ordinary aspects of life
which we should really know better are not ours, they're nothing to
do with us, we take to be a self. Our body we take to be a self when
we're concerned about it. A self has property. A self owns things.
Any person in this world has their property, their possessions,
their area of control because what you own you have rights over.
People think that they have human rights over their body because
they think it is their body. People think they have rights over
their mind because they think it is their mind. They think they have
rights over their thoughts. I can think what I like. Can you?
These are things we possess. First of all, our
body. Do you possess your body? Do you own it? Is it yours? The
older you become the more you realise just how out of control this
body is. If there is an owner to this body, it's nature, not you. It
gets sick. It hurts. It gets old. It gets better again. And you have
just a little influence over this, but not that much. However you
can understand that whenever you assume this body to be you or
yours, you suffer because as soon as you think that this body which
a mosquito is biting belongs to you, you suffer. If you could just
imagine this mosquito was biting not your body but say, this
microphone in front of me, would you worry about it? Would you be
concerned about it? You would not, because this microphone isn't
yours. If you could actually perceive, even like through your
imagination, that this arm or this leg which the mosquito was biting
wasn't yours, suffering will disappear straight away. The concern
would be gone. There would be a sense of peace. Whenever you regard
something as not yours, the result is this thing we call
"letting go". What is the opposite of letting go?
It is called owning. I won't call it controlling. I'll call it
owning now because the owning always assumes an owner, and so we
look at what we own and what we possess or rather what we
think we possess, and this is the way of
accessing the teaching of anatta using the
Buddha's teaching which I mentioned earlier. That if there's a self,
a soul, a me, there'll be things which belong to me. If there's
things which belong to me, if there's possession, there has to be an
owner. These two go together.
So you look for the teaching of
anatta, just what you think you own. What do you own
in this world? Do you own your body? If you do, you suffer. If you
think you own your body you'll be attached to it. If you think you
own the body you will not be able to let it go. I've seen many
people in that predicament, close to death in pain but not willing
to let the body go. Sometimes it's very sad to see a person
thrashing about in the last few moments of their life, struggling
for the breath, struggling for a comfortable position, struggling to
stop death happening. Even though they're in pain, they'd rather
have that pain and discomfort than have death. Why is that? It's
attachment to the body. Why are they attached to their body? It's
because they think it's theirs. They can't let it go. It's like a
child with a little teddy bear or a doll. Someone's trying to take
it from you. "No, leave it, it's mine. You can't have it". You won't
let that teddy bear or little doll go. You can see that in a child,
and you know that the child's being stupid. However, this little
doll, this little teddy bear is also the body we carry around with
us. When nature takes it back, do you scream? Do you cry "No, no,
no. I'm too young to die. I've got too many things to do. Not yet,
tomorrow maybe, but not today, not now"?
This is what we're talking about with attachment
and the cause of this is this mirage of self and soul. This mirage
of ownership. You can actually see this happening in certain moments
of your life, when the body is threatened by sickness, by disease,
or even just simple pain, when there's a pain in the legs when
you're meditating, What is the problem? What is the real
problem? Is it the pain or is it because you think it's
my pain? Why can't you let go of the pain? Why can't
you just go to the breath and just stay with the breath?
If you look closely you'll know you'll go to that
which concerns you, which you think is your business, which you
think is what you're supposed to be doing. You go to that which is
your assumed responsibility, that which you own or think you own.
You go to the pain in your legs because you think it's
your legs. It's your pain.
You have to do something about it. If you could realise at that
point, or do a little imagining, not self: "This is not mine.
Nothing to do with me. This is not my concern. Let the body look
after the pain. I can look after the breath or look after the
nimitta or look after the mind." You could
do it then. When you understand you don't own these things, only
then can you let them go. Attachment is born by the illusion of
ownership.
You try that the next time you have an
irritation, a distraction, just to let go of the body, understanding
you don't own this, it only belongs to nature. You'll find the
disturbance of the pain will vanish and you'll be free to go back to
the breath or the nimitta or into
deep samadhi. You won't be concerned with the
body because you're not regarding it as yours. This particular way
of looking at the body becomes extremely important the deeper you go
in meditation, because there comes a time and this is the time when
the nimitta arises, when you are about to
leave the body completely and with it you're leaving the five
external senses. So many mediators experience fear at this point,
because it's one of the upakkilesas, one
of the great hindrances to attaining the jhanas.
You can get to the nimitta but you can't
go in. You can't absorb into it. There's something holding you back,
some fear, some inability to let go and it's good to understand what
you can't let go of and why.
This is where the insight starts to uncover
deep-seated attachments, deep-seated illusions which cause
attachments. If you get to that point many times and investigate it,
you will find that what you're afraid of letting go is this body and
these instruments of the five senses which give us a sense of
protection and security about the longevity and protection of the
body. It's as if sight disappears, sound disappears, hearing
disappears, smell, taste and especially physical feelings disappear,
we're not quite sure what will happen to this body, as if all of the
guards to the safety of this body go to sleep, as if we've got no
guards on our house, no alarms, no protection, we're afraid that
somebody might go in and steal something or destroy our whole house.
We can't let go because we're worried about the safety of that which
we left behind. We're worried about letting go of the body.
The only way you can pass that hurdle or the
usual way you can get past that hurdle is another way of just being
so fascinated by the nimitta you don't
really realise what you're letting go of. But the very good way of
passing that hurdle is to realise at that point that what you're
letting go of is nothing to do with you. The body is not yours. The
senses are not yours. You don't own, you're not part of them. These
are just something what you just take up and use, which you can put
back down again. You feel free to abandon the body only when you
realise on a very deep level, it's not yours. So at that stage of
the meditation a little bit of anatta, a
little bit of non-self, does wonders for freeing you to go into deep
jhanas. You look at that body and you can
let it go. It's quite safe. It's not yours anyway. It doesn't matter
if it does die in jhana and let go of all
these senses. You realise they're nothing to do with you. Not your
business. Leave it alone. Let it go and this control which comes up.
The control which is always trying to control, especially the body.
Let that go. Give it away. It's not yours. Nothing to do with you.
And the control which is trying to control your mind, trying to
force it into jhana, trying to nudge it
into jhanas, trying to mold it this way
and that way so that jhanas will happen.
Nothing to do with you. Let it go.
One of the great monks in Thailand who's been to
visit here a few times says that when he meditates he just does
nothing. He just goes into deep jhanas.
He's a really great meditator and that's the way he meditates. Just
give up. Give up the doer, and the only way he can do that is
because it just doesn't belong to him. Why am I doing something
which doesn't belong to me? Like mowing someone else's garden on a
Saturday afternoon. What are you doing that for? Let them mow their
own garden.
So this is anatta which
actually starts to propel you into the jhanas
and the Buddha actually said again and again when he started talking
about not just looking at the body as non-self but look at some of
the senses. He said very clearly, it's in the
Anattalakana Sutta, the second teaching which he gave.
So what you see isn't yours. Seeing isn't yours. Sight consciousness
isn't yours and it's not you. He said like hearing what you hear.
Just hearing consciousness is not you. Smelling, tasting, touching,
the feelings in your body, they're not you. The feeling organ, the
body, is not yours. Feeling consciousness is not yours. Mind objects
aren't yours. The mind consciousness isn't yours. The mind isn't
yours. He actually said that very carefully, in order for people to
understand that these senses are part of nature. Because of the
nature of illusion is like the function of a mirage, we mistake
these things to be something that they're not, especially the five
external senses. We are attached to these which is why we can't let
them go. We take them to be ours, my sight, my hearing, my smell, my
taste, my physical touch, because we take them to be ours, because
we think we own them, we are concerned with them.
Why is it that during meditation we get disturbed
by sounds outside? Have you ever investigated that? The traffic
outside, the sound of someone banging or the lanmower going or
helicopter going overhead. Why do they disturb us? What's the point
of listening to these sounds? What do we get out of it? Why do we do
it? The reason why we do it is because we think that sound is ours
and we're scared of letting it go. It's as if we don't attend to
sound it will disappear once and for all, forever. We're so used to
this. We've grown up with it. It's like a good friend. Once they go
we think we've lost something. How many years when one person dies
and gets cremated the other person always thinks there's something
missing there somewhere? They don't feel comfortable. Isn't it the
same that we're so used to these five senses that when one
disappears, I mean really disappears, it's not quite right. We turn
it on again deliberately. We want to hear anything rather than have
silence or rather than have no sound at all. Even with the body.
We've grown up with these feelings in the body. We're used to them
and when all these feelings disappear it can feel so weird
sometimes. We're not quite used to this, as if there's something
missing somewhere. We get afraid. Our comfort blankets are taken
away and we just snatched them back again.
With these five senses, if you realise these are
nothing to do with you, sound becomes just like a telephone ringing
but it's somebody else's call. Not yours. Nothing to do with you.
When the body starts to itch, there's a message with someone else's
name on it. Not yours. So you don't open the envelope. You just
don't communicate with that which doesn't belong to you, which is
not your concern. If you could do that, understanding the Buddha's
teaching as anatta with the five external
senses, it's easy to let them go, to turn them off., not to pick
them up. If you can do that, jhana becomes
so easy. The burden with jhana is the
mosquitoes biting you, the sound disturbing you, the pain in the
knees and all the thinking about that. That's what disturbs you. If
you can let go of the body, abandon the body, jhana
becomes easy.
Remember somebody brought this question up in
question time a few days ago about that Christian monk who was
torturing his body by whipping himself until the five senses got so
unpleasant that he turned them all off and gave them away. That's
one way of abandoning the five senses. Make them just so unpleasant
that you just can't stand them any longer. Then you chuck them away.
But that's the hard way. The easy way is to realise that these
things aren't yours, don't belong to you. When you can do that, the
meditation just becomes so easy. You can let go of these things
because you realise they aren't yours. So this is the way we can
actually use the understanding of non-self to look at the five
external senses and to let them go.
When we go into the world of the mind and that is
much harder to let go because we have more attachment to the world
of the mind than even to the world of the body and it's five
external senses. In particular we have this thing which we call
"thought". Why is thought so hard to give up?
Again because we think it's me thinking. It's my thoughts. If you
could actually look upon thoughts as being irrelevant chatter, if
you could imagine all this thought is like coming from this little
demon inside of you who's managed to creep in through your ear-hole
when you were asleep and it's getting into a stupid conversation
with another demon who's gone in your other ear-hole at night and
they're having this conversation with each other and it's completely
stupid, you would then realise that it's not yours. It's just two
little devils inside your head speaking with one another. Even that
imagination should be enough to realise this is not your thoughts.
It's not your conversation, just don't listen to it. You don't give
it importance. You realise it's not your responsibility. You don't
need to listen to that commentary. You can let it go only when you
realise it's not yours. That inner commentary is what we call the
doer because if you listen to that commentary just so often - it's
giving advice, giving criticism, very rarely give praise but
sometimes it does that as well - you would see that it always gives
orders. This is what we're talking about, the doer.
This is how the doer manifests. This is the order, the speech. This
is how the doer governs you. You think something and then you follow
those thoughts. An order is given and you do that. This doer, this
is what we call "will", "choice". You can actually see it happening.
Not "will" and "choice" as an idea but "will" and "choice" as an
experience which you can view happening in your mind. You can
actually see the mind moving into thought and from that thought an
action following very often. This is how there's a governing of your
actions of body and speech and mind. This is how volition appears to
you. You can actually see it happening and that's what I was saying
is conditioned. That's what I was saying you can see the causes for
two little demons who've crawled in your ears. Not you, nothing to
do with you. Not coming from a me. In particular, nothing belonging
to me. This is not your orders. These are words, thoughts, ideas
completely conditioned. Why do you think those thoughts and not
other thoughts? Why do you do these things and not other things? If
you look very closely you can see the connections, how one thought
leads to another, how inclinations sort of lead to another. In
particular the Buddha actually taught to really understand how
thinking works and how thinking especially is full of delusion.
We're taught these vipallasas, the working
of delusion. It's the physics of it, the mechanics of it. Where does
thought come from? You start to see, if you look carefully, that
thought is built up of your perceptions.
For example, whenever you have your lunch, if you
perceive something to be delicious you actually think "that was
really nice, I'll have some more of that". Whatever you perceive, if
you perceive in a certain way, the thought follows on from that and
the thoughts build up the views that "this is delicious" or
"Bianca's a good cook" or "you really get good food in this place".
Your views are built up by the thoughts which are built up by the
perceptions, and where do the perceptions come from? You perceive
according to your views.
I often give a story of when I was a young
teenager. I went into a pub in London for my first pint of British
beer, vastly under-age but that didn't really matter. It was just a
dare with your mates and drinking that first sip of beer and being
completely taken aback at how dreadful it tasted. The actual
experience was that this was really an awful thing because it was
just so bitter and it wasn't to my taste at all. But the view, the
current view amongst all of my friends and most of society was that
this was something delicious. So that first perception came up and
by the time I'd finished that beer I'd changed it completely because
I wanted it to taste nice and it did taste nice. And I developed a
love of British beer and spent a lot of money, a lot of time,
drinking it and you can see what happens there. Because of your view
that this must be delicious it becomes delicious, and perceptions
follow accordingly, and from your perceptions you build up the
thoughts, and because of the thoughts you reinforce the views. This
is how delusion happens and keeps us in this circle which we find it
so hard to get out of.
If we look at our thoughts, we think that they're
true because they fit our perceptions and they fit our views. Of
course they do because they're made out of this. Your views create
your perceptions. Your perceptions build your thoughts. Your
thoughts justify your views and here you go on with more
perceptions, thoughts and views each supporting each other,
justifying one another. You never can see the fallacy of that. Only
when you can actually start to stop those thoughts to realise that
they're just a part of nature - not trusting them, not thinking
they're yours, to be able to let go of them by knowing that this
is the doer which you can abandon. The doer is one of the biggest
hurdles to overcome, both in meditation and in insight practice, and
many of you just know how hard it is to find a way of letting go of
this doer.
See if you can practice by suggesting, just for a
few moments, non-self, not mine, on this thing, the doer, which is
manifesting as your thought. Nothing to do with me. Not mine. Not my
business. And you'll find it's much easier to let go when you don't
own it. When it's not your responsibility, you don't mind people
taking it away. Somebody, if you heard, like a thief breaks into the
carpark and steals a car. If you went out there and find "Oh, it's
not my car", would you feel the same as if you went out there and
found it was your car? You can see how ownership causes a problem.
We don't allow things to disappear. We can't let go of them when we
think we really own them, that they're mine. So if you do a little
bit of anatta practice here, called
anatta sanna, just the perception of
non-self, then you'll find that it's easy to let go of the thinking,
easy to let go of the thoughts. Also, anatta
means that there is no-one in here, so you don't do the meditation.
How can you do the meditation? Who can do the meditation? This
meditation just becomes a natural process. Not you doing it, but
meditation happens when you let go of you and allow things to
disappear and to get quiet.
When you for a moment, actually practice
anatta towards the doer, you allow the
meditation to be done by non-self rather than coming from a self, a
doer, my meditation, me doing it. The other place where the illusion
of self dies is in the knower and again we think that consciousness
is us. I am the one who is conscious. I am the one who is
experiencing all of this. This consciousness belongs to me which is
also why if you really thinks that the consciousness is yours and
you own it, you like to keep as much consciousness as you can. In
other words, you like to experience as much as you can in this
world, which is basically the way of the world. The way of
meditation is actually letting go of all that area of consciousness,
all those experiences which you can be indulging in, during these
nine days. Instead you're just limiting yourself to a very small
area of all possible conscious experience, just the breath. Just
this moment, no past, no future.
It's interesting what happens when you let go of
a lot of the pasture of consciousness and you just limit it to just
a small paddock. Usually consciousness can just go anywhere. You'll
be conscious of just anything, go experience all of the delights,
all of the pleasures in the world. But here you're putting the
consciousness in a very small pasture and what happens when you've
let go of so much pasture for your consciousness. You say, "Oh, I'm
just going to be conscious of the breath. I'm just going to be
conscious of the present moment. All these other possibilities I'm
going to renounce". You find there is freedom. There is peace. This
is some happiness.
Why is that? What's going on? Start to realise
that all these other areas don't really belong to you. Nothing to do
with you. Give them away and you find the more you can give up of
consciousness, the more you can let go of consciousness, let go of
the consciousnesses of sight, sound, smells, tastes and touches and
things get very peaceful, things get very nice, things get very
free. It's because that we think that consciousness is somehow ours,
we're unable to let it go. We just still want to be alive. We want
to hear. We want to think because deep down that we don't want
anyone to take it away from us. We think it's ours. We possess it.
We own it and we're not wiling to let it go. If you think that
consciousness is yours then it's just so hard to let it go. At the
very least we can let go of the consiousnesses of the external five
senses and just keep a little bit of consiousness of something, but
bit by bit when one develops jhana one
lets go of more of the pasture where consciousness usually lives,
and little by little we let go of consciousness itself. We can only
enter into that final jhana of cessation
because it's cessation of consciousness. We can even let go of the
last vestige of consciousness only when we understand this
consciousness isn't us, doesn't belong to us. Only then we can let
it go. People are afraid to let go of consciousness when you think
it's yours.
So this is actually how we can use this
anatta to understand the first
jhana or second jhana where
there is no doer. You're getting more data, more experience on which
to check whether your views, whether your perceptions and thoughts
are true or not. And again one of the reasons why the Buddha taught
jhanas, one of the reasons why monks like
myself keep pushing jhanas, is not just
because it makes a nice experience when you bliss out during a
retreat and you want to come back next time. It's because that when
you enter these jhanas you get these
experiences of first of all a doer disappearing.
There's something has gone which you thought was yours. There's
something has gone which you thought was you. It's not just gone for
a moment. It's gone for a long time. It's like basically you're
sitting here and your arm disappears. "Wow, where did that go? I
thought that was mine. I thought that belonged to my body. How can
you have a body without an arm? There it is. That's really weird".
If you see your arm just coming and going, just coming and going, it
becomes quite clear. It doesn't belong to you. You see like your leg
coming and going. That doesn't belong to you. You see the doer,
disappearing for long periods of time. It becomes just as obvious as
the nose in front of your face. This thing doesn't belong to you.
You can exist without it and actually you exist much happier without
it, without a doer.
When I'm talking about a doer, I'm talking about
all manifestations of will, choice, decision making, judging. All of
that disappears in these states. The simile I usually give for these
jhanas is like a tadpole born in the
water. The tadpole born in the water, grown up in the water. It only
knows water. Actually, it doesn't know very much about water because
it's just too close. It's got nothing to compare it with and thinks
that's the whole world. It's only when the tadpole grows up and
leaves that world, becomes the frog and goes to dry land. It's got
that extra data to the world. It's only when you go to dry land that
you know what wet means. It's only when you can actually get out of
the doer, when the doer disappears, that you know what the doer was,
that you know what it truly is. It's just water. It's not the whole
world. It's just part of nature. It's not your essential being. So
once you enter a jhana or experience the
jhanas and come out afterwards, just
usually they're so strong an experience, so marvellous, powerful
experiences, that most people think when they just get off: "Wow,
that was really nice!" But in Buddhism we also teach not to just
indulge in the pleasure of having attained these states but also to
review them, look back upon them and investigate them: "What was
that?"
Powerful experiences are very easy to remember.
You can recall them just so well and you look back and see what was
strange about that? What was enjoyable about that? And one thing you
look back on is to see that the doer has completely gone. What does
that actually mean? If you look back upon that enough times you'll
come to the insight inevitably. You have to. I don't see how you can
miss it. You would see that a great part of you, a great chunk which
you thought was you, which you took to be a self, which you assume
to be a self, was a great mistake. You just summed it up all wrong.
You made an assumption without all the evidence, and now all the
evidence is here, you can't keep that assumption again. Just like,
you know, people used to think that the world was flat. It is
obvious, isn't it, that the world is flat. Just go and look outside.
It's flat. You can even put a spirit level on it. There - it's flat.
And for most people that's obvious.
"The world is round" takes a jump of perception,
especially if somehow you can leave the world and go up in a rocket
or a spaceship and you can actually see the world is round. The same
with the doer being a self. Right down here, unenlightened human
beings. It's just so obvious that the doer is a self. That I am
doing these things. That I am choosing. You make that assumption all
the time. It's only if we can somehow get apart, away, somehow
separated from this, get a perspective on it. See the doer
disappear. Only then it'll become very clear, that the doer is
nothing to do with a self. The doer has gone. The existence is still
there. You're still conscious, still feel like you're there but the
doer has gone. Consciousness has remained. Imagine what it's like if
you actually could see this and understand this, and accept this. It
completely changes your perspective on will-power, on choosing, on
doing, on desiring, on craving.
What is craving anyway but another type of doing?
If you can actually see this doer is not self, a lot of craving
disappears. Also, the other part which one assumes to be a self is
just experiencing consciousness. Even though if we attain to just
the first jhana we can actually experience
for ourselves the doer ceasing. There's still like a conscious
experience there. Your mind is still fully awake and there's still
knowing. Then, little by little, that knowing disappears. First of
all, if you can see the doer as non-self then at least you can have
some confidence or you can have some understanding. It's very
suggestive. It's a suggestion that it is possible that the knower
may not be not you either. If you can develop another
jhana, at least you can see a whole heap of knowing
disappearing. As the jhanas get more and
more refined, a whole chunk of consciousness disappears. Then again
you can get an idea, an inkling, that consciousness isn't you. But
not only that because in the Dhamma, in Buddhism, the Buddha sort of
described consciousness as actually what it actually is, in terms of
the six senses. And that each of these senses has got a completely
different type of consciousness to it.
Sight consciousness, you know, seeing, is not the
same as hearing, is not the same as smelling, tasting, touching or
mind consciousness. But why is it we call each of these things
consciousness as though it was the same thing? Why is it that we
assume that it's like a continuity of knowing? What is it that seems
to be the same between seeing, hearing, smelling, tasting and
touching? And this is where the experiences of jhanas
start to let you understand the illusion of continuity in
consciousness which gives us the illusion that this is always me
here rather than the reality of the fragmentory nature of
consciousness. The one consciousness arising and passing away and a
completely different consciousness arising and then passing away.
Like you're given a simile in a monastery. It's
like you are sitting here and now you are a banana. Then, the banana
completely vanishes and then you're a mango, and the mango
completely vanishes and then you're a melon, and the melon
completely vanishes and you're a banana again. And that vanishes and
then you're an apple and that vanishes and then you're a mango
again. If that was your experience that you know you're a completely
different fruit each moment, would you ever think that there was
actually something continuing across from one moment to another?
Would you actually think there's some sort of identity which was
there in the banana, which was there in the apple, which was there
in the mango, and so on? That's actually the fragmentary nature of
consciousness. Now the reason why people don't see this is because
whatever you see with the eyes, the mind also sees. It takes up as
an object of its consciousness. You see something, you know you see.
Seeing something is sight consciousness. Knowing you see this is
mind consciousness. You hear something. You know you hear. Sound
consciousness followed immediately by mind consciousness. You smell,
taste, you touch something. You know you've touched it. Touch
consciousness followed by mind consciousness. Even you imagine
something. You know you've imagined it. A thought arises. You know
you've thought that thought. You know something. You know you know
you know.
What's happening here is even with mind
consciousness, whatever arises in the mind, the mind can take that
again as its object. Mind consciousness following on mind
consciousness. The reality, the truth, if you're going to be more
accurate, more precise, is not that you know. It's that you know you
know. If you add that time factor there, this whole process of what
we call self-consciousness becomes quite clear. It's just the mind
taking up the last object of consciousness and repeating it again
and it's because mind consciousness is there with what we see, what
we hear, what we smell, what we taste, what we touch. It gives the
illusion of sameness.
In the simile we have of the different fruit
arising, manifesting. It's like there's a fruit. It's like an apple
arises with a coconut next to it and then there's a banana. They
both disappear and then there's a banana arises with a coconut next
to it. Then there's an apple arises with a coconut next to it, and
there's a mango with a coconut next to it. Then there's a banana
with a coconut next to it and there's a coconut with a coconut next
to it and there's a banana again with a coconut next to it. The
coconut stands for mind consciousness. Always holding onto the other
consciousness. Always being there with it giving the illusion of
sameness. What happens if you get into jhanas
is that there all you've got is coconuts. All that you've got is
mind consciousness. All the other five consciousnesses have
completely disappeared. Only if you have the jhanas
you really understand what the mind is, what mind consciousness is,
what a coconut is, because you've separated it out. You've distilled
it. You've purified it. You know what this thing, mind,
consciousness, experience actually is, rather than just thinking
about it or philosophising about it.
Once you recognise this sixth consciousness -
call it citta, call it vinnana,
mano, ... whatever you wish - once you
understand what that actually is - mind or mind consciousness - then
when you come out of jhanas you can see
it. Instead of just having the apple-coconut or mango-coconut,
thinking it's just one fruit with sort of the sameness to it, you
can actually split off mind consciousness. You can actually see,
there is seeing, mind consciousness comes up right next. You can
actually recognise it. You've seen it in its purity, alone, and you
can actually see sound consciousness and then mind consciousness
come up right afterwards. What you actually see if you can recognise
what mind, citta or consciousness truly
is, is that you can actually take apart this sensory experience. You
can actually see the fragmentary nature of it. Banana then coconut.
Apple then coconut. There's nothing which is there all the time.
Consciousness changes. Six types, each completely different. "Which
one is you?", the Buddha asked.
If you are consciousness, if the conscious
experience is the identity which you say is your self and soul, if
it's that which sees, which one is it which is you? If it is any one
of them, then where do you go when that consciousness which is you
disappears and one of the other five is there? It just does not make
sense. It cannot hold. You can never look again at consciousness
once you see it fragmentary, as being a self, being a soul, being a
me, being mine.
It's only if consciousness is continuous, has got
this continuity about it, that you can think it's a self or a soul.
It's something which belongs to you. Also, when you can see it's
fragmentary then it passes away, you can allow it to go. You can let
it stop. When you see especially these two what I call "abodes of
delusion of self", the doer and consciousness, or will and
consciousness, you can see that each one of these can never be
regarded as a self, a me or a mine. Nothing to do with this and
there's no other place where a self can hang out. Then you can see
that consciousness is just a process, a natural process. It's
nothing to do with a person or a being. It's something which arises
and passes away according to causes. Same as will, it's something
which arises and passes away because of causes.
When it doesn't belong to you then you can let it
go. You can let it cease. You can let it end. Only then can
Nibbana be possible. Nibbana
is the ceasing of all of this. It was very clearly described what
Nibbana was by the Buddha. When a flame
goes out, it's Nibbana. Where's it go out
to? Does it go and become unified with the great flame being? Does
it go to some great home where all flames go to but you can't see
them but they're really there?
The Buddha actually said, "does the flame go
East?" No. "Does it go West?" No. "Does it go up?" No. "Does it go
down?" No. "Does it go anywhere?" No. It's just gone out. That's
what Nibbana means. What was once there is
now finished, gone. The process has ended. You can only allow that
to happen. It only makes sense. It can only be a possibility for you
if you realise that none of this has an essence to it and none of
this has a self to it. None of this belongs to you or belongs to
anyone. It's just a part of nature.
Of course people say "What's the point of this if
it's just going to end and you're going to go 'poof' and you're
gone? I don't want to go". Why don't you want to go? Because you
think you're still there. What are you hanging on to that you don't
want to leave? Nibbana? What have you got
a vested interest in? What do you think you own? Who is the owner
which you're not willing to recognise as emptiness?
If you can actually understand this and fully
recognise and penetrate non-self, then you understand what
Nibbana means and only then, you understand
what the Buddha was talking about - about the process, a natural
process, which leads to the cessation of all of this and basically
people say "well, that might sound OK but I'm not having anything to
do with this! Maybe I don't want Nibbana.
I just want to have a good time". Unfortunately you've got no say in
it.
That's what I've told quite a few people on the
retreat. They said "well, I've got maybe a few doubts. I'm not
really sure whether I want to really sort of carry this meditation
all the way to the jhanas and, you know,
become a monk or become a nun, and sort of let go of everything and
get into Nibbana". They're not quite sure
of this. I said to them "don't worry about it because you've got no
choice!"
It's very much like you're on a bus and once
you're on that bus you can shout the driver to "let me off at this
stop". But unfortunately it's an express bus with only one stop at
the end of the journey. It's not going to stop half way. There are
no little buttons to press to get the driver to stop. You're on this
until the very end. It has to eventually end up with letting
everything go. It's abandoning things, giving up things. First of
all, you give up what's outside. Then you start giving up what's
inside. Inside, outside, it's the same. You give up everything until
there's nothing left.
It's so beautiful. That's what we call emptiness,
going out, disappearing, because you realise there's nothing there,
only an illusion. The illusion has been seen and everything grinds
to a halt, just like that machine which I was talking about
yesterday. It's turned on. Who had turned it on, I don't know, but
this whole purpose is to get that hand coming up the front which is
called, you know, the meditation, and turning itself off and then
it's done its function, its business.
So anyway, that's a little talk on
anatta for this evening. A different way than I've
taught before, with some little pointers about the practice of
anatta in your meditation. So give that a
go. See what happens when you've completely let go. Only letting go
from the imagination of there's no-one in here.
Ajahn Brahmavamso
Perth, Western Australia