It’s strange that we prefer to walk around the temple with a candle rather than listen to the Dhamma. There were fewer people this the morning. Merits are our supports. The journey in the cycle of death and rebirth is long. All merits are our supports, making the journey convenient and comfortable. Without merits to support us, life would be difficult. There wouldn’t be much to live on. There would be some people hating us. If we have merits supporting us, our lives are more comfortable. If our minds are meritorious, they attract others with meritorious minds. If our minds are sinful, they attract sinful people. Notice how they gather into groups, like herds of animals. People associate with those of the same kind.
We are descendants of the Buddha. Learn to meditate well. The opportunity to hear the Dhamma in this cycle of death and rebirth is exceedingly rare. The time when the Buddhas’ teachings exist, when the Buddhas exist, is extremely rare. The time when we do not encounter the Buddha’s teachings is so much more. During the period of one kappa (eon), sometimes there’s only one Buddha. Our Buddha had been accumulating his spiritual perfections for 4 asaṅkhyeyya (immeasurable period) and 100,000 mahā-kappa (great eon) since he received the prophecy until he became the Buddha. It’s said that his teachings would last about 5,000 years. Compared to the time without the Dhamma, it’s so much longer that it’s incomparable.
When I was a child, studying at the temple school, my heart inclined towards meditation. I meditated even before going to school. My elementary school was located in a temple. On a hot midday in the temple in Bangkok, the sun was scorching. I sought refuge in the main hall. There, I sat and practiced breathing in, reciting “Bud,” and breathing out, reciting “Dho,” as I had become accustomed to. Looking at the Buddha image, the image of the Buddha appeared somewhat worn out. I used to wonder what it was made of. I tried touching his knee with my finger. Oh, it turned into powder. It was plaster. At that time, as a kid, I thought that the Buddha was no longer there, that he had completely worn away.
Looking outside the hall, I saw monks walking about. My mind immediately sensed it, it knew a lot. It told me that the people walking weren’t real monks; they were ordinary people dressed up as monks. These weren’t monks. Even as a child, my mind could think like this. Then my mind pondered, Buddhism must have disappeared. From now on, I have to help myself. Without the Buddha, I have to find my own way. At that time, I didn’t know where to go, what to do, but I knew I couldn’t stay here. I had to keep striving. This isn’t my place yet.
Growing up, I had encountered meditation teachers, learned to meditate, and came to understand that whether Buddhism thrives or declines depends on our minds. Our minds serve as the receptacle for the Buddha’s teachings, while Buddha images are constructs we create to remind ourselves of the Buddha. Through them, we are reminded not to commit wrongdoing and to wholeheartedly engage in doing good deeds. They serve as reminders for our minds. True Dhamma, the true Buddha, resides not elsewhere but within our own minds. Therefore, some teachers would often teach that the Buddha, the Dhamma, and the Sangha are one, existing within our own minds.
Luangpu Dune often said, “The mind is Buddha.” Why can’t we see Buddha in our own minds? It’s because it’s wrapped up in defilements. The defilements that envelop our minds, called ‘Āsava‘ (Influx), are described in the scriptures as defilements that pickle our minds. This is an ancient analogy. It’s similar to pickled guavas or pickled mangoes, soaked in sour and salty water. It infiltrates the flesh of the mangoes or guavas. In the same way, Āsava pickles our minds, so our minds aren’t entirely pure. They’re just like pickled mangoes, tainted.
To let go of or not cling to the five aggregates, we must cultivate insight.
The method by which we can release our minds from influx, taught by the Buddha, is to cultivate mindfulness meditation until the mind is liberated from influx by letting go. The keyword is ‘letting go.’ Therefore, the phrases ‘letting go’ and ‘not clinging’ are at the heart of the Buddha’s teachings. To let go of or not cling to the five aggregates, i.e., body and mind, especially the mind, we must cultivate insight. Cultivating insight (vipassana) means seeing the truth of our own minds.
To see the truth of our own minds, don’t think about how the mind is, and don’t interfere or force it, but be aware of it. When the mind is happy, be aware. When the mind is suffering, be aware. When the mind is wholesome, be aware. When the mind is greedy, angry, or lost, be aware. Keep observing continuously, and eventually, you will see one truth, which is the three characteristics. Some might see the five aggregates as impermanent. Some might see them as suffering, being crushed until they break apart. Some might see them as non-self, i.e., not under control, not our ‘self’, not belonging to us, not human, not animal, not us, not them. And they see that the five aggregates are just phenomena. They exist, because there are causes for them to arise. They are not people, not animals, not us, not them.
Seeing the Five Aggregates as the three characteristics requires two conditions. Condition one is right mindfulness, and condition two is right samadhi. If right mindfulness is lacking, right samadhi will also be lacking. If we cultivate right mindfulness extensively, right samadhi will also become more complete. Relying on right mindfulness and right samadhi, we can cultivate vipassana (insight meditation). Without right mindfulness, there is nothing at all, not even samatha (calmness samadhi). Without right samadhi, there may be wrong samadhi, i.e., calmness meditation without cultivating wisdom. The indicator whether we can cultivate wisdom or not, is right samadhi. Therefore, we must develop these two tools. Cultivating the foundations of mindfulness will provide us with these tools.
Most people don’t understand it. Their weakest point is regarding right samadhi. Some think that right samadhi is just concentration. Some have studied extensively, delving deeply into theories, and assert that samadhi is merely a mental factor (Cetasika) that arises with every mind. And therefore, there’s no need to cultivate it. But if there’s no need to cultivate it, why are there lessons called “Adhicitta-sikkhā” (Training in higher mind/samadhi)? There are indeed many kinds of samadhi.
When I was a child, I practiced sitting meditation, breathing in and reciting ‘Bud,’ and breathing out while reciting ‘Dho,’ training my mind to establish samadhi, becoming bright, clear, and relaxed. Then, my mind would gaze into the bright light, curious to know and see, and off it went. Later, I realized that this wasn’t beneficial. Upon exploring and seeking, I found no benefits. It was akin to visiting a celestial being or a wealthy person’s house—there was simply no use. It would only lead to embarrassment. It’s better not to go. I gradually taught the mind.
At one point, I discovered that when the mind goes out to know and see external things, it’s because the mind followed mental images, moving along with the light. Therefore, from then on, I wouldn’t let the mind move along with the light anymore. I continued the same practice, but when the mind started moving into the light, I recognized it and so it stopped moving. As a result, the mind became firmly established and prominent. I realized that this firmly established mind is another form of samadhi. So, I kept practicing continuously. At that time, there were no teachers around, but I kept practicing. Not knowing what to do, I just kept practicing samadhi. I found that samadhi has many different forms. For example, when doing loving-kindness spreading meditation, we cultivate loving-kindness. When the mind settles into samadhi, there isn’t any light at all. When cultivating loving-kindness, and when the mind settles into samadhi, it doesn’t go through the stage of Patibhāga nimitta (counterpart sign), i.e., there’s no light; it just settles into samadhi and simply becomes empty.
Samadhi comes in various forms; it’s not just a simple matter. Once, I tried a peculiar form of samadhi. I recalled that the teachers taught about following the middle path, ‘if I focus on the knower, the mind leans to one side; if I focus on the object that is known, it leans to the other side. If I don’t focus on either side, what will happen?’ So, I directed the mind. When the mind started to move towards the object, I didn’t let it touch, but redirected it back to the knower. When the mind was about to grasp the knower, I didn’t let it, but redirected it back to the object, swaying back and forth. The mind then settled into samadhi, becoming empty, devoid of any thoughts or concoctions, completely empty, with no thoughts, no time, nothing at all, just a single empty mind. Initially, I thought this was good, but after practicing it repeatedly, I realized it still wasn’t right.
Therefore, the matter of samadhi is quite intricate. We gradually train ourselves, but I don’t recommend that everyone should practice samadhi extensively, as I did. I practiced samadhi extensively because I didn’t have a teacher to teach about vipassana. Since I met Luangpu Dune, I abandoned these types of samadhi altogether. I focused solely on establishing the mind as the knower, the joyful, awakened one. Sometimes, I kept cultivating the knower extensively. When the mind established into the knower, I kept cultivating insight continuously without practicing samadhi. This led to defilement of insight. Therefore, without samadhi, we cannot do vipassana. If we try to cultivate vipassana without sufficient samadhi, defilements of insight will arise. There are 10 types of these; you can search Google for them.
Gradually, I practiced every day. Once I studied with Luangpu Dune, I began to observe my own mind continuously. Initially, I didn’t think about whether it was samatha or vipassana. Luangpu just instructed to observe the mind, so I did without much thought, without questioning whether it was samatha or vipassana. I completely forgot about it. As I observed my own mind, it became fascinating. I discovered things I never knew, saw things I never saw, and understood things I never understood before. Each day brought new and strange phenomena for me to learn about in my own mind. There was so much to learn. Thus, I found it enjoyable to read my own mind. Knowledge and understanding gradually expanded without any struggle or search. I just continued to observe and read my mind, and knowledge and understanding kept increasing gradually.
The Buddha, the Dharma, the Sangha, all unite in this single mind.
Luangpu Dune once said to the extent that “The Dharma, the 84,000 Dharma teachings, emerge from this very mind itself.” They don’t come from hands, feet, abdomen, or any part of the body. They arise from this mind itself. The mind is the Buddha. The mind is the Dharma. So, if we meditate well, our mind accesses the Dharma, and our mind becomes a Sangha. The Buddha, the Dharma, the Sangha, all unite in this single mind.
Gradually, practice every day. Every day, observe the five precepts and engage in formal meditation. We must do this. Especially for our generation, we don’t have much samadhi, it’s very weak. Therefore, we must practice formal meditation. When practicing formal meditation, it’s not insight meditation. We need to cultivate calmness as well. Persistent cultivation of wisdom can lead to the defilement of insight. Just like driving a car. Right now, you might step on the accelerator, which is like cultivating wisdom. Or now, you might need to step on the brake, that’s practicing samatha. Both are necessary. If a car only has an accelerator, it won’t last; it will break down eventually. If it only has a brake, it won’t go anywhere. Similarly, for those who are stuck with samadhi, it’s like they keep stepping on the brake all the time. No matter how many lifetimes, they won’t progress. They’ll just stay stagnant. Therefore, we must practice both.
Every day, set aside time for meditation. If today our minds are restless, we can’t observe the mind or body. If the mind is scattered, we practice samatha, diving right into it. The secret of practicing samatha has been taught repeatedly. Normally, not many people explain it clearly; it’s hard to understand. I’ve been experimenting with these meditations for over 20 years and have managed to discern them. If we desire tranquility, we should choose a meditation object that our mind is content to be with. Just use that object. However, it must not be an object that arouses defilement to arise and the mind is happy because of that defilement. It must be an object that doesn’t stimulate defilement. For instance, being with reciting ‘Buddho’, being with the breath, contemplating death, being mindful of the body, contemplating about hair, body hair, nails, teeth, skin, flesh, tendon, bones. These are good meditation objects that the Buddha taught. We then let our mind stay with the meditation object.
And another key secret is that we stay aware of this meditation object with a normal mind. Don’t desire tranquility. If you try to force the mind to be tranquil, it won’t be tranquil at all. Don’t force the mind or try to control it. We meditate with a normal mind. Soon enough, the mind will become tranquil. If we know how to choose the suitable meditation object for ourselves, not imitating others. I practice meditation quite extensively. When I want tranquility, whatever I do would bring tranquility. Because to practice samatha we can use any meditation object, such as Paññatti (conceptual object), reciting ‘Buddho’, and then the mind will attain calmness. Chanting mantras can make the mind calm. Contemplating forms, body, hair, body hair, nails, teeth, skin, breathing in and out can make the mind calm. Observing the mind can also bring tranquility to the mind.
Therefore, initially, we don’t need to practice every method. Choose one method that we are comfortable with. Whenever our mind is restless, we practice tranquility. When our mind is calm, we can observe the behavior of the mind, observe the feelings that arise in the mind. When observing our mind, we observe two things: one is observing the feelings that arise within the mind, such as whether our mind is happy, sad, greedy, angry, or deluded. These are the feelings that arise, both pleasant and unpleasant, both good and bad, they are mental factors, feelings that arise within the mind.
Another aspect of observing the mind is observing its behaviors. Sometimes the mind becomes the knower, sometimes it becomes the one going out to perceive objects through the eyes. Sometimes it becomes the knower, sometimes it becomes the one going out to listen to sounds. Sometimes it becomes the knower, sometimes it becomes the mind perceiving smells. It alternates between different pairs of phenomena, but this requires that we have already achieved the knower mind. If we don’t have the knower mind, our mind endlessly wanders towards the eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind. It constantly wanders and seeks objects through the eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and heart, but this is of no benefit. We must have a firmly established knower mind first. Then we will see that the knower mind is not constant. Sometimes it wanders into thoughts, and the knower disappears, giving rise to a thinking mind. When we realize that the mind has wandered into thoughts, the wandering mind disappears, and the knowing mind arises. Just as when we see someone passing by, the mind becomes interested, and the knowing mind disappears. It becomes the mind going to see forms. So we can practice observing the mind repeatedly arising and ceasing at the eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind.
Therefore, observing the mind can be done in two ways. One is observing phenomena, observing feelings that arise within the mind. When the mind is happy, be aware. When the mind is suffering, be aware. When the mind is good or bad, be aware. Another way is observing the behaviors of the mind. It operates through the eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind. We can observe in either way, as both ways similarly teach us about the three characteristics. How does it teach the three characteristics? Happy mind is impermanent since it cannot be maintained or controlled. Suffering mind is impermanent as it cannot be prevented. In the same way, both wholesome and unwholesome minds are also impermanent and beyond control. If we observe the mind arising and ceasing at the sense bases frequently, we will realize eventually that the mind is non-self. It goes to see forms, hear sounds, or becomes the knower on its own accord; it cannot be commanded or chosen.
The mind transcends Āsava because it no longer clings to the five aggregates.
Upon repeated observation, wisdom eventually penetrates through the five aggregates, especially the mind. If we perceive that the mind is impermanent, suffering, and non-self, this signifies that we have learned the truth. When we perceive all five aggregates, encompassing both body and mind, as impermanent, suffering, and non-self, this signifies an understanding of the truth. Because seeing the truth, the mind becomes disenchanted, releasing its attachments and achieving liberation. Liberation entails the mind letting go of its attachment to the body and letting go of its attachment to the mind. As soon as the mind comprehends and understands this fully, it lets go.
What does it understand? It understands the Four Noble Truths. It understands that the five aggregates are all suffering; it doesn’t see any good in them at all. They are suffering because they are impermanent, because they are oppressed, and because they cannot be controlled. One can see the five aggregates as suffering because one practices vipassana. Once it sees the five aggregates as suffering, it becomes disenchanted, releasing its attachments, and letting go of the body and mind. It lets go of the body first, then the mind afterwards. When it lets go of the body, it reaches Anāgāmī (Non-returner). When it lets go of the mind, it’s completely finished; there’s nothing more to let go of.
And when one can let go of the mind, the mind will separate from the aggregates. It will detach itself from the aggregates. The aggregates remain aggregates; the mind that has transcended them still exists. It’s still also called an aggregate, but it’s not a clinging aggregate. It’s another type of aggregate, but not a clinging aggregate. Clinging aggregates are the aggregates we currently possess; they constantly change. Therefore, when the mind separates from the aggregates, it doesn’t merge with forms, feelings, perceptions, mental formations, or consciousness. Since it doesn’t merge with the aggregates, it also doesn’t merge with the Āsava (Influx). The Āsava will simply slip away, not vanish. It slips away, not vanishes. In the Buddhist scriptures, it’s clearly stated: “The mind transcends Āsava.” It transcends Āsava, not erases Āsava. The mind transcends Āsava because it no longer clings to the five aggregates.
Therefore, our true main task is to know the five aggregates according to reality. To know them, one must have mindfulness and samadhi. Mindfulness is the knowing of the present existence of body and mind. It’s knowing the movements of the body and mind. It knows with a firmly established mind as the knower, the joyful, awakened one, the one who observes. If we have these two conditions, right mindfulness and right samadhi, we don’t need to think about wisdom; wisdom arises on its own. It will see that the five aggregates are impermanent, suffering, or non-self, on its own. When it sees clearly, it lets go. When it lets go, the mind is liberated. Once liberated, the mind will not create any realm (state of becoming) again.
The realms created by the mind aren’t easy to notice. However, with sufficient practice, we can begin to perceive them. Can you perceive how our minds continuously create realms? Can you feel it? Our minds construct something internally, forming their own inner worlds. The physical world is an external realm. The crucial realms are those within our minds, which are constantly being created. When we engage in meditation, we create realms of practitioners. What are these realms like? They could be stern, solemn, stressful, heavy, or tight, among others. These realms are influenced by desire, and as we have many desires, they continue to be created constantly. When we strive to be good, we create realms of goodness. When we do bad things, we create realms of a bad person. Observe our minds. If we can read them, we’ll realize that the mind is continually creating realms.
Sometimes, our minds get tainted by desire. At that moment, we create a realm of hungry ghosts. Sometimes, our minds get defiled by anger and sadness. At that time, our minds create a realm of hell beings. Sometimes, our minds create lost realms. While sitting, our minds become lost, wandering, indulging in pleasures. At that moment, our minds create a realm of animals. The mind continuously creates realms. It even creates the realm of a practitioner. Notice carefully. All of these are fabrications. When meditating, if we feel stiff shoulders and a stiff neck, this signifies that we can’t really perceive our minds. However, we can observe the phenomena that arise. For instance, if we practice intently, it will feel tight, with stiff necks and aching backs, and so on. We can observe these symptoms. Then, we will realize that, ‘Hey, there must be a mental compulsion occurring. Realms of practitioners are already being created.’ Next, we might see, without having to notice from the body. When the mind creates something, it sees by itself. Therefore, when we read our own minds, we will know right away when the mind creates realms. What causes the mind to create realms? It’s desire that makes the mind create realms. When the mind creates realms, whether they are good realms or special realms, suffering inevitably follows.
We learn gradually, and then we will know that besides suffering, nothing else arises; besides suffering, nothing else exists; and beside suffering, nothing else ceases. Then, the mind lets go. If there is only suffering, should the mind struggle and suffer? No, the mind no longer wants that. Then, the mind lets go on its own. There’s no need to think about letting go; it lets go by itself. Once it lets go, when the mind is about to create realms again, it will be recognized. And the mind is free from the power of Bhavāsava (Bhava Āsava; influx of existence/realms). Āsava is realm.
When we are very conceited, when we are opinionated, this is the influence of Diṭṭhāsava (influx of views). When we firmly hold onto our own thoughts and opinions, we have Āsava. Just observe. It can taint our minds. With Kāmāsava (influx of sensual desire), our minds are attached to pleasure and comfort. The mind enjoys pleasure and comfort. It defiles our mind, making our mind indulge in the world, getting lost in forms, sounds, smells, tastes, and tactile sensations. It leads us to entertain thoughts that are enjoyable. This is the influence of Kāmāsava.
Then there’s Avijjāsava (influx of ignorance). It fears suffering; it’s the instinct that doesn’t want to encounter suffering at all, doesn’t want to see suffering at all. Can you feel it? We meditate but we don’t want to encounter suffering. But the Buddha teaches us to understand suffering, not to abandon it, not to escape from it. Therefore, Avijjāsava prevents us from knowing suffering.
These four Āsava prevent us from reading our own minds thoroughly. To read our minds scrupulously, our minds must be free from Āsava.
For example, our minds create an internal world. If we’re aware of it, the mind then stops creating. When the mind gets lost in the world of thoughts, it clings to those thoughts. If we recognize it, we won’t get lost in the world of thoughts. The mind naturally seeks happiness, comfort, and enjoyment. If we are aware, the mind won’t be tainted by Kāmāsava (influx of sensual desire).
It’s not difficult. These defilements can’t withstand mindfulness and wisdom. Gradually observe. The Āsava is the factor that leads to Avijjā (ignorance). How does Avijjā arise? Avijjā is simply not knowing suffering. When we indulge in pleasure and seek happiness in the world becoming lost in enjoyment, do we have awareness of the body and mind? No. When we’re engrossed in enjoying a movie series, it’s fun, very fun. At that moment, we indulge in sensual pleasure but we can’t perceive suffering. At that moment, we forget our body, and mind.
While we’re lost in Bhavāsava (influx of realms), immersed in realms (state of becoming), thinking “I am significant, I am this, I am that,” during that time, we don’t truly know reality at all. We don’t realize that we’re nothing but suffering. We simply can’t see it. When Bhavāsava arises, it obscures the truth, prevents us from seeing the Noble Truth, and prevents us from eradicating Avijjā (ignorance). Therefore, Bhavāsava nurtures Avijjā. Gradually learn.
When thoughts arise and we become opinionated, clinging to our opinions, our mind doesn’t have awareness of the body and mind. When Avijjāsava (influx of ignorance) arises, it abhors suffering. It loves happiness and hates suffering. We love happiness because of sensual desire. We hate suffering because we don’t want to acknowledge the truth. When we don’t want to acknowledge suffering, we can’t observe our body and mind and realize the truth that, indeed, it is suffering.
Avijjāsava and Upādāna, when heard, sometimes seem similar, but their manifestations are different. Āsava is the defilement that seeps into the mind, infiltrating it. Upādāna is the defilement that propels the mind to jump out and grasp onto objects. Their manifestations are not the same. Āsava is much more subtle than Upādāna. If we still don’t see Avijjā, it’s okay. If the mind grasps onto anything, be aware. If the mind grasps onto forms, sounds, smells, tastes, this is Kāmūpādāna, i.e., clinging to sensual pleasure. Grasping onto views and opinions is Diṭṭhūpādāna. Grasping onto the sense of self is Attavādupādāna. We believe we have a permanent self and reflect it in our words. These are the small offspring, the little children of Avijjā, of delusion. They are not the same. Their manifestations are different.
Āsava is quite subtle and difficult to see. If the mind has never withdrawn from it, we will never know that there are Āsava tainting the mind all the time. But for Upādāna, as we continue our practice, we will see that when desire arises, Upādāna arises. When Upādāna arises, what happens? Realms are created; it’s the turmoil of the mind. When realms are created, birth occurs. While there is Āsava, there is Avijjā (ignorance); which is not knowing the Noble Truths, not knowing that this body and mind are suffering.
What happens is Saṅkhāra (mental formation). If the mind grasps onto Saṅkhāra, Saṅkhāra occurs because of the power of Upādāna. i.e., grasping; it’s a realm. But if the Saṅkhāra, which is concocted by the force of Avijjā (ignorance), without any grasping, that’s Saṅkhāra as in “Avijjā conditions Saṅkhāra” (part of Dependent Origination).
Sometimes in the dhamma teachings, the names may be the same or the explanations might overlap, but the content is not the same. Otherwise, the Buddha wouldn’t have explained it in such detail.
We study the Paṭiccasamuppāda (Dependent Origination) gradually, learning as much as we can see at first. Then, when we can observe our own minds more clearly, we will be able to perceive various defilements. Defilements come in many forms. Nivarana (hindrances) is the defilement that obstructs us, preventing us from doing good deeds, both in the worldly and spiritual aspects. Āsava is the defilement that taints the mind, making us unable to see the Noble Truth. Upādāna, Tanha and Upādāna, lead us to create realms. Each defilement performs different functions. Samyojana. When we create realms, the mind becomes bound to the realms we create. Samyojana is the defilement that binds the mind to the realms.
Each defilement has its own manifestation, symptom, and characteristic. I don’t explain all. There are many names for defilements. Some people say they are all the same, but truly, they are not the same. Their manifestations differ. Gradually practice, and we will come to know and see for ourselves.
I give you the map that one day you will need it. Previously Luangpu Dune gave me a map. On the last occasion I went to pay our respects to him, he said, “Remember, when you see the knower, destroy the knower, and when you see the mind, destroy the mind; only then will you reach the true purity.” It was such a distant map compared to my knowledge and understanding at that time. I had just taken a few steps, and then he gave me the ultimate map. Thus, I give you the map to keep. Then, one day ahead, as you walk, you will know and see.
Today’s sermon is brief. Did you notice that the sermon this morning was simple? Why was it so? Because most of the people who came in the morning were like that. Diligent practitioners come in the evening without prior arrangement. Alright, next, Venerable Ah will lead the monks in chanting mantras to pay homage to the Buddha. We will meditate in sitting posture. Then we’ll mindfully walk in procession. Let’s offer our respects first; don’t rush to receive blessings. Let’s offer our respects to the Buddha first. Venerable Ah, please proceed.
The monks chant mantras to pay homage to the Buddha.
This time we circumambulated for a long time. There are more people outside than inside. On the bright side, people are still interested in coming to the temple, which is a good thing. Another thing is that tonight, your dinner will be tastier than usual. In any situation, we can have our mind wholesome or unwholesome. Once we finish circumambulating, we sit and wait for those who haven’t finished yet. Waiting is an art in life and it’s very important that we know how to wait. If we can’t wait patiently, we won’t find happiness. In our real life, sometimes we face severe problems, how can we solve them? We can’t solve them immediately. Just wait a bit; soon the problem will resolve itself. Because it’s also impermanent.
If we can wait, then wait. With time like this, we continue to meditate. I see us in the hall, meditating together. There are two to three types of how you practice. One is with good fabrication, another is with bad fabrication, i.e., frustration and impatience. Yet another type is with drowsiness, unaware of body and mind. Stay aware of all kinds of fabrications. When the mind transcends fabrications, there is great happiness. It’s like when the monks chant mantra at the funeral, “The subsiding of formations is blissful!” Our minds keep on fabricating, never stopping, continuously. Even when we meditate, the mind still fabricates. Whatever we do, the mind keeps fabricating. If we don’t practice with intention, the mind fabricates unwholesome states, being lost. When we are with fabrications, we need to be aware of them. One day, the mind will transcend formations.
Today is over. The last person has laid the flowers. Next, Venerable Ah will lead the monks in giving blessings. In reality, we have already received blessings, which are the good deeds we have created. That is the important blessing. As for the blessing given by the monks, it serves as encouragement. By spreading the merits, consider it as having received merits.
(Spreading merits and giving blessings)
Anumodana (rejoicing in the merits). Maintain the goodness that has been done, let it grow even more. Please return home.