Stop Procrastinating

It’s truly challenging to understand the middle path. Luangpor observes and find that we often sway too much, sometimes too lax, sometimes too tight. But it’s not surprising that it’s challenging to find the middle path. Prince Siddhartha also struggled to find the middle path while he was an ascetic for many years. Sometimes his practice was too tight, sometimes too lax until he found the middle path. After walking on the middle path for a while, he attained Buddhahood.

Therefore, if we can walk on the middle path, if we’ve found it, set your mind and heart to walk it; it doesn’t take much time. However, in most cases, walking the middle path is intolerable. People constantly deviate along the way, especially when it comes to worldly distractions; we often veer off course. Last time, Luangpor talked about the leaking water jar; it’s a symptom of practitioners. Many people in our generation are like a ‘leaking water jar.’ When it’s time, they meditate. As their minds start to improve, they become restless about this and that, except for the necessity of making a living. But if it’s not about making a living, taking care of parents, or looking after the family, don’t waste too much time. Walking the middle path is not something you easily find; it’s extremely challenging.

Luangpor still feels that it’s the most challenging thing for anyone to walk the middle path. Once you start walking it, you may still dilly-dally along the way. Oh, it’s such a pity. Anything that can make you procrastinate, just leave it behind. Sometimes there are excuses to justify our dilly-dallying, saying that this activity or that one is meritorious and beneficial. In reality, it’s a form of dilly-dallying, but it appears virtuous. People in the world dilly-dally by drinking alcohol, and indulging in leisure. As for practitioners, we dilly-dally by visiting temples, going in and out of various temples, engaging in various meritorious activities. In Luangpor’s eyes, it’s all dilly-dallying.

Until we find the middle path, it’s not an easy matter. Until someone tells us about the middle path, it’s not easy to come by. In the long cycle of existence, the time when someone knows about the middle path is brief. After that, everyone forgets. The reason for forgetting is that we get caught up in the world. Therefore, when it’s time for us to meditate, let’s learn well about the middle path. A state that’s neither too lax nor too tight. If it’s too lax, the mind gets lost in the world. When normal people get lost in the world, they go off singing, dancing, drinking alcohol. When practitioners get lost in the world, they get lost in acts of merit and various meritorious activities. Oh, there are so many of them. After each activity, they become exhausted. Just when their meditation is about to improve, it deteriorates. And they start from scratch again. This is what ‘too lax’ means. If it’s too tight, it’s another extreme—forcing the body, forcing the mind excessively. Wanting to improve, you force yourself.

The genuine middle path is not too lax, meaning the mind is not lost. It doesn’t wander or indulge. Also, it isn’t tense, which signifies being too tight. The middle path is about knowing, feeling the body as the body is, feeling the mind as the mind is, simply feeling. If we forget the body or forget the mind, we are too lax. If we over-focus on the body or over-focus on the mind, we are too tight. Just be aware of the body, aware of the mind, that’s our middle path. Therefore, we must train ourselves to walk this middle path. We must practice formal meditation, and observe our mind, whether it’s too lax or not? For instance, while sitting in meditation, we breathe in and recite “Bud,” breathe out and recite “Dho.” The mind then becomes calm, being aware of oneself. In this way, we can enter the middle path.

While sitting in meditation, some see this and that – angels, Brahma gods, spirits, the Buddha, Venerable Moggallāna, Venerable Sāriputta. Why do those who see them claim their appearances differently? Here’s another example: the Chulamani Chedi (Pali: Cūḷāmaṇi Cetiya; a celestial stupa situated in the Tavatimsa heaven). Many people claim to see the Chulamani Chedi, but each of them describes the stupa differently. In truth, their minds are too lax, they become lost. While sitting in meditation, their minds become lost. Or if while sitting, it becomes too uncomfortable, too tense, that is too tight. One hundred percent of us are either too tight or too lax.

Seeing with the mind, Knowing with the mind

Entering the middle path for the first few times, we may briefly step onto it, but then we may become either too tight or too lax again. What should we do to maintain our mind on the middle path? We rely on mindfulness—practice with our meditation object, and through mindfulness, be aware of our own mind. If the mind wanders to a mental object, it means it’s too lax. If the mind manipulates and controls the object, it’s too tight. Practice with our meditation object diligently, and be aware of our own mind diligently. Practice consistently and regularly. The Buddha advised us to practice diligently, cultivate diligently, and practice correctly. Through mindfulness, be aware of the body as it is, and be aware of the mind as it is. Practice extensively, cultivate extensively. Once we comprehend the truth, we become disenchanted, release our attachments, and break free.

In the world, no one has self-awareness. In the world, there are only those who are lost. When we wish to practice Dhamma, we come to sit and focus; in fact, the mind gets lost in another way. One way is by getting lost in following defilements, and the other is getting lost in resisting defilements, forcing ourselves, becoming tense. What can we do to not be lost? The opposite of being lost is knowing. Therefore, we practice with our meditation object, and we must develop our awareness to be quick. At first, we practice meditation, breathing in and reciting ‘Bud’ and breathing out and reciting ‘Dho,’ for example. We can also practice other types of meditation, such as observing the rising and falling of the abdomen or moving the hands; anything works. But the key is to practice with a meditation object and maintain awareness of our own mind. If the mind becomes lax, it’s because the mind is lost. If it becomes tense, it’s because the mind is overcome by greed; it desires to be good. Or if, while practicing, the mind becomes uncomfortable, it’s because the mind is with anger.

Therefore, to walk along the middle path, we must observe. While practicing with a meditation object, be aware of our own mind. And if the mind follows the defilements and becomes restless, this is too lax. Some people see this and that. Listening to this bores me. Seeing angels, the past, the future—all these are boring. Why don’t we see the present? Why don’t we see names and forms in the present moment? This is important, it’s great and sublime, but most people don’t really want it. They want supernatural power over others. All of these are defilements. Therefore, we must practice with a meditation object. Whenever we have the time, practice.

While waiting for the bus, Luangpor practiced. While on the bus, Luangpor continued to practice. Since I was a layperson, I have been practicing all along. Luangpor uses Ānāpānasati (mindfulness of breathing). I breathe continuously, inhaling, reciting ‘Bud,’ and exhaling, reciting ‘Dho.’ Then, if the mind gets lost in thoughts, be aware. If the mind sinks into the breath, be aware. If the mind becomes focused, if it sinks into the breath, it feels tense and uncomfortable. If it gets lost, it becomes absent-minded and derives pleasure. We must practice and maintain consistency. Practice with a meditation object, and maintain awareness of our own mind. A lax mind is one that gets lost in defilements. A tense mind follows defilements as well. It attempts to force, control, and manipulate, leading to tightness.

When it gets lost, we know. When it gets lost in thinking, we know. When it gets lost in focusing, we know. The moment when we know that it’s lost, ‘knowing’ arises because being lost and knowing are opposites. When we are not lost, we are knowing. When we are knowing, we are not lost. They are antithetical So, practice with a meditation object, and if the mind gets lost in thought, be aware; if the mind gets lost in focusing, be aware. Every time, we know that it is lost, knowing replaces being lost. Knowing is the middle path. In the sutra regarding the foundations of mindfulness, look carefully. There’s only one task in the foundations of mindfulness, which is knowing or seeing. The Buddha used the word ‘seeing’: see the body as the body is, see Vedanā (feeling) as Vedanā is, see the mind as the mind is, see name, form, wholesome state or unwholesome state, just as they are. This is knowing. The word used is ‘seeing,’ i.e. ‘knowing,’ or ‘seeing.’

The Tipiṭaka uses the word “see,” but when Luangpor says the word “see,” we tend to use our eyes to see. In fact, we see with the mind. Seeing with the mind means knowing with the mind. When happiness arises, know it with the mind. When suffering arises, know it with the mind. When wholesome or unwholesome state arises, know it with the mind. When the body moves, when the body is still, when the body breathes out, and when the body breathes in, know it with the mind. Luangpor prefers to use the word “know,” but the Text uses the word “see.” It means the same thing. However, when we use the word “see,” it often involves an object that is seen, and it pays attention to the object that is seen.

Regardless of whatever state arises, just know, merely knowing. Sometimes, they may use both words together, saying “merely know, merely see”; both have the same meaning. However, “merely knowing, merely seeing” is not easy. Just “knowing” is already a challenge. “Merely knowing, merely seeing” is yet another level. For now, “know” first, don’t just get lost. The way to cultivate this knowing is by relying on mindfulness to recognize when the mind is lost. Practice with an object of meditation, and when the mind gets lost in thought, know it. When the mind gets lost in focusing, know it. When we promptly know, the lost mind or the lost state subsides, and the state of knowing arises. At first, it arises momentarily. Knowing state arises briefly, and then it gets lost again for a long while.

When Luangpor went to study with Luangpu Dune, on the first day of learning, I returned by train and made a stop in Korat Province. While on the train, I practiced separating the aggregates. “Where is the mind?” Luangpu instructed me to observe the mind. “The mind is located within the body. Is it in any specific part of the body?” The mind was not located in any specific part of the body. No matter where I looked, the mind was there. “Is the mind in Vedanā (feelings)? Is Vedanā the mind? No, Vedanā is not the mind. Are mental formations, wholesome state or unwholesome state, the mind? No, they are not the mind.” In the end, it became clear: the mind is the one that knows (the knower). What does It know? When mindfulness recognizes a form, the mind is the knower. When mindfulness recognizes a formless state, happiness, suffering, the good, and the bad, the mind is the knower. The knower mind is attained. This knower mind exists briefly, then it transforms into thinking mind once again.

At that time, I didn’t know what to do. I kept trying to observe, continuously attempting to separate the elements and aggregates. Seven days passed, and suddenly, the knower mind arose for 2-3 minutes. Luangpor couldn’t recall the exact figures; it had been many decades. When the knower mind first emerged, it was only for a brief moment, then it transformed back into a lost mind—lost in thoughts, lost in focusing, or lost in searching. Through continuous meditation for one week, it emerged once again. The knower mind arose and lasted only a few minutes. The mind then merged with mental object, becoming a lost mind once more. I was patient while attempting to know, trying to observe, trying to distinguish between ‘this is the mind’ and ‘this is a mental object.’ I continued observing. At that time, I couldn’t grasp the principles of practice.

If you understand the principles of meditation, then it’s quite simple. At that time, I was pondering, ‘How should I cultivate the state of knowing?’ It took me a considerable amount of time to figure it out through trial and error. I would think, ‘If I practice like this, will the state of knowing arise? No, it won’t. If I practice like that, will the state of knowing arise? No, it won’t.’ In the stage where there’s an attempt to practice, the knowing state does not arise. It’s at the moment when you stop trying that the knowing state arises naturally. It knows without the intention to know. But for most people, it’s not possible for the knowing state to arise. Even if they try not to intend, knowing state won’t arise. If they intend to know, the knowing state won’t arise either. This is because they only have wandering minds. So, let’s practice meditation, and when the mind becomes lost, know it. Lost again, know it again. Later on, the lost state becomes shorter, and the knowing state becomes more frequent and sustained, arising very frequently.

Initially, it took 7 days to attain the separate knower. Then, after another 5 days, the separate knower arose again. The periods of the mind firmly established as the knower mind grew longer, while the periods of the lost state grew shorter. Later, it took only 3 days for the knower mind to arise once more. Then, it took only one day for the knower mind to arise. Day by day, it became more frequent. When the mind wandered, it would be recognized immediately, and the knower mind arose instantly. Practice gradually. To achieve what I mentioned earlier, avoid being like a leaking water jar. It’s not good to engage in too many worldly activities. Those lost in the world are preoccupied with worldly matters. They enjoy going to monasteries and participating in various meritorious activities, such as joining the Kathina ceremony at nine monasteries. If it’s not the Kathina season, they make off-season offerings. It’s a constant hustle and bustle. Each activity is not done by one person; we come together and do it as a group. Then, we have fun and enjoy it together. Just take notice. After engaging in each merit-making activity, we become very restless for a while.

For those seeking to transcend Saṃsāra, they must cultivate Kusala

Thus, avoid unnecessary things, eliminate the superfluous. We aim for something higher than merit. Merit is a support for those traveling a long journey in Saṃsāra. However, for those seeking to transcend Saṃsāra, they must cultivate Kusala (wholesomeness). In the Ovāda-pāṭimokkha Gāthā (the Buddha’s teachings on Māgha Pūjā day), it’s clearly stated: ‘Sabba-pāpassa akaraṇaṃ’ means the non-doing of evil. Don’t do any kind of evil. ‘Kusalassūpasampadā’ means the full performance of what is wholesome. He didn’t say, ‘the full performance of making merit.’

Merit and Kusala are not the same. Merit helps us live happily in this world. Merit is the name of happiness. Kusala empowers us to transcend suffering. They differ in nature. To seek the best, we should possess both merit and Kusala. Luangpu Dune once taught, “When you have an opportunity to do merit, do it. Once the opportunity has passed, leave it.” Refrain from striving to make merit. Otherwise, you may lose Kusala. In other words, your mind, instead of being calm, will become restless. A restless mind is the mind with the delusion called ‘Uddhacca,’ which means restlessness. Therefore, elevate yourself. As we have found Buddhism, let’s not solely focus on merit. Even in the absence of the Buddha, opportunities for making merit always exist.

Other religions also have acts of merit-making, like Islam. In their tradition, they have something called “Zakat.” Zakat means that those who are wealthy must give a portion to society, so it can be used to help those in need, the less fortunate, and those facing difficulties. Is that an act of merit? Yes, it is. Their form of merit is giving, performing acts of charity, and practicing self-sacrifice. Is it good? It’s very good. We shouldn’t just focus on doing acts of merit alone; it’s not enough. Take Christianity, for example. On Sundays, they go to church and sing songs praising the Lord. While singing those songs, what do they gain? They earn merit. During that time, their minds aren’t engaged in wrongdoing; their hearts are dedicated to the Lord. Their hearts become tranquil.

Singing songs and thinking of the Lord, what do they attain? They attain Samādhi. Does Samādhi count as merit? Yes, it does. However, that kind of Samādhi is just ordinary Samādhi, not the right Samādhi. It doesn’t mean that other people aren’t good; they are good in their own way. But as Buddhists, we have our own goodness. Our goodness doesn’t stop at acts of merit alone; it must be elevated to ‘Kusala.’ ‘Sabba-pāpassa akaraṇaṃ‘ means the avoidance of all evil. Wrongdoings of the mind are evil thoughts. Wrongdoings of speech are evil words. Wrongdoings of the body are evil actions. ‘Kusalassūpasampadā‘ means the cultivation of what is Kusala (wholesomeness). What is Kusala? It is the absence of greed, anger, and delusion. Kusala can be referred to as non-greed, non-anger, and non-delusion.

Greed, anger, and delusion are the unwholesome states. What constitutes “wholesome states”? It’s the absence of greed, anger, and delusion. Then, what is the state of the mind at that moment? The mind at that moment is awake and joyful; it’s not greedy, not angry, and not deluded. We must develop ourselves; don’t stop at just performing acts of merit. Let’s train our minds. How can we make the mind not greedy, not angry, and not deluded? It can’t be done because the mind is Anattā (non-self; uncontrollable). However, the mind is a natural quality that can be trained. The mind is a natural quality that can’t be commanded, but it can be trained. Practice some form of meditation, and be mindful of phenomena. Have a mind established in knowing, as an observer. When the mind becomes lost, know that it has become lost, repeatedly. This way, the mind will become more established and empowered.

Following that, we continue our meditation. The mind wants to see angels; know that it’s greedy. The mind wants to see the future lottery winning number; know that it’s greedy. The mind becomes dissatisfied—’Hurrrr… This mind is so restless!’ Angry arises. The mind is angry. The moment we recognize that the mind is angry, the angry mind subsides; giving rise to the mind that is not angry. Consequently, non-greed and non-anger minds arise, but we still have deluded minds. So, when we become aware of the deluded mind, the deluded mind subsides, giving rise to the mind that is not deluded. Therefore, the mind without greed, anger, and delusion is wholesome mind and is born from the power of the right mindfulness and right Samādhi. Our mind must stay with the body, and we must have mindfulness to be aware of the changes and movements of the mind. The mind moves and changes, when it contacts an object through the eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and heart—the six sense doors.

When starting out, I’d like to suggest reducing the number of object-contacting channels. This means practicing formal meditation. We meditate at home, in our own room, or in some well-off households, they might have a meditation room. While meditating, whether sitting or walking within the confines of our own home, there’s nothing unusual to observe. Sometimes, we meditate with closed eyes, and thus, we don’t see anything. This eliminates object contact through the eyes. While we’re inside our home, there are no unusual sounds, and our minds remain undisturbed by any noises. Even though we have ears, it’s as if we don’t; the auditory sense organ becomes dormant. Inside our home, there are only familiar smells, no unusual ones. These scents don’t stir the mind. Even if there are smells, it’s as if there aren’t any, and the mind doesn’t pay attention. Thus, it’s as if the olfactory sense organ is eliminated.

While we are in meditation, we don’t consume anything. Our tongues are in contact with saliva, but does saliva have a taste? It does, but we are accustomed to it. We don’t perceive any taste. Similarly, we all have our own individual scents, but we are accustomed to them. We feel as though we don’t emit any unpleasant odors, while even a slight hint of someone else’s odor may seem very unpleasant. It’s because we are accustomed to our own scent. As we sit in meditation, the forms remain the same, nothing of interest. The sounds are the same, nothing of interest. The smells are the same, nothing of interest. Our tongues touch only our own saliva, but there’s nothing of interest, thus we feel no taste. Saliva has a taste, but we are accustomed to it, so we don’t perceive any taste.

Therefore, when we practice formal meditation, we suspend the use of our 4 sense organs: eyes, ears, nose, and tongue. When we walk in meditation, when we sit in Samādhi, who is the one walking, who is the one sitting? The body walks, the body sits. The sense base is the body. Who is the one knowing? The mind is the one knowing. So, there is the mind. Thus, there remain two sense bases: the body and the mind. With the body and the mind, we continue our meditation. We breathe in, reciting “Bud,” and breathe out, reciting “Dho.” The one breathing is the body; the one knowing is the mind. As we continue to breathe, the mind may wander off to think about other things. We then can see this clearly and realize, “Oh, I was meditating but my mind has escaped to think already.” So, we realize that the mind has wandered off already. The mind has become restless already. Then we return to, and continue with, our meditation: breathe in, reciting “Bud,” and breathe out, reciting “Dho.”

Continue our meditation practice. As we maintain it, if the mind sinks and focuses, know that the mind sinks and focuses at the breath. In case we observe the abdomen, the mind would focus on the abdomen. If we practice moving our hands, the mind would focus on the hands. If we practice walking meditation, the mind would focus on the feet. In some cases, the mind focuses on their entire bodies; for example, while sitting, the mind focuses on their entire bodies. The sign of focusing is that the mind slips, sinks, and grasps; it holds onto something, unlike just knowing. Knowing means each entity exists separately. Just like Luangpor seeing this water jug; each exists separately. The mind is here, the jug is there. But if the mind grasps, it jumps in and seizes this water jug. Oops! It’s mine. No one can take it. Don’t touch it.

Formal meditation is like training for battle, practicing in daily life is like entering the real battle field.

When we practice formal meditation, we can reduce our sense bases by four, leaving only the body and the mind. When there are fewer sense bases, it becomes easier to observe. When our mind wanders off into thinking, we know. When the mind wanders into the body, we know. For example, if it wanders to the breath, this means it has wandered into the body. If it wanders to observing the rising and falling of the abdomen, it wanders to the abdomen, meaning it wanders in the body as well. When we walk in meditation and the mind focuses on the feet, the mind wanders in the body. If it doesn’t focus on the body, it wanders into thinking. Practice in this way regularly, every day, try to do it whenever you have time. Whether it’s for 5 minutes or 10 minutes, just do it. Each day, practice often. There’s no need to wait until bedtime; you should also do it before bedtime. However, during the day, whenever you have the time, just do it.

Luangpor also practiced in this way. While breathing, if the mind escapes, be aware. If the mind becomes focused, be aware. In daily life, there are 6 sense bases. When doing formal meditation, there are only 2 sense bases. Therefore, it’s easier to see the mind because there are only 2 sensory stimulating channels. We either get lost in thinking or get lost in focusing. Simply observe in this way. It’s as simple as that. As we become skilled, we see the mind move. When the mind moves, we become aware. When the mind becomes lost in thought, we become aware; when the mind becomes focused, we become aware. Next, we enter the battlefield. Entering the battlefield is not like training for it. Practicing formal meditation is like training for battle. Practicing in daily life is like entering the real battle field.

When we are on the battlefield, enemies can come from any direction, and we don’t know. Sometimes they come through the eyes, like when we’re sitting on a bus and see a beautiful woman or lovely flowers in front of some houses. Or we’re in a car, and we see a beautiful dog or a cute cat running around. This means our eyes perceive it. When our eyes perceive it, our mind immediately jumps to the dog or the cat. If, by chance, we were to die in a car accident at that moment, we might be reborn as a dog or a cat. However, we become aware because we’ve been practicing. When the mind moves even a little, we become aware of it. When the mind moves just a bit, when the mind jumps to look at a form, we become aware. Or we hear strange sounds, like when we’re sitting and enjoying ourselves, and suddenly, a car horn blares loudly nearby. We startle, and the mind jumps to it. We see immediately that the mind rushes toward the stimulus, which is the sound. Or sometimes, there’s a smell, a taste, or a touch. There are plenty of these experiences.

In the past, Luangpor used to take buses, as I had just started my job as a government worker and didn’t have enough money to buy a car. Sometimes, I witnessed amusing incidents. I recall one occasion when I saw two women sitting together on the old-style bus with double seats. The person sitting by the window had very long hair, and as the wind blew, it kept sweeping across the face of the person next to her. The latter was wearing bright red lipstick. When the hair swayed back and forth, her entire face became covered with red marks, resembling mustaches, and she was oblivious to it. She still thought she looked beautiful. I saw this and felt amused. When the eyes perceive a form, and the mind feels amusement, we become aware. When the eyes see a form and our minds change, be aware. When our ears hear a sound and our minds change, be aware. When we’re walking along, and suddenly we hear a dog barking loudly, ‘Woof!’ like that, we startle. Be aware that we’ve been startled.

When the eyes see a form, and the mind changes, be aware. When our ears hear a sound, and the mind changes, be aware. When your nose detects a scent, and the mind changes, be aware. When your tongue tastes a flavor, and the mind changes, be aware. For example, when we’re eating and we like one taste, but then the next taste we don’t like at all. It frustrates us, makes us annoyed. With each bite, the mind is never the same. Observe closely, even with the food we like, the food that is very delicious. Try it. The food that we feel is so delicious. At first, we don’t know whether it’s delicious or not because we devour it. We keep eating for a while, and suddenly we realize, ‘Oh, this is delicious.’ As we keep eating, the feeling of deliciousness gradually diminishes. It varies inversely with the amount of food we consume. Suppose we like eating durian. The first piece is delicious. After we eat one whole durian, it’s no longer delicious. Just the smell of durian makes us feel like vomiting already. The feeling changes.

Therefore, our minds constantly change due to the objects they come into contact with. When we are in the real battlefield of our daily life, our eyes make contact with forms, our ears with sounds, our nose with smells, our tongue with tastes, our body with touches, and our mind with thoughts and mental fabrications. It occurs one contact at a time, albeit through six channels. If we have diligently trained in formal meditation, we can recognize when the mind becomes lost in thought or focused. Consequently, when contacts arise through the six channels, we can recognize them. Some may wonder, “Eh, there are contacts from all six channels, how can I possibly be aware of them all?” “When the eyes make contact, should we think ‘this is a form,’ and when the ears make contact, should we think ‘this is sound’—is this the correct way to practice?” No, that’s not the wise way to practice. The mind will jump to the eyes and ears, and it becomes chaotic. Doing so means one doesn’t know how to practice.

However, if our minds are firmly established, we will see clearly: the mind that knows ceases, giving rise to the mind that sees form. When mindfulness arises and recognizes the mind that sees, the mind that sees form ceases, giving rise to the self-aware mind. We will observe that the mind arises and subsides continuously through all six sense bases. Therefore, gradually practice. Engage in formal meditation. Now, if we diligently practice formal meditation, don’t become a leaky water jar. Some people fail or don’t succeed because of this. They spend time listening to the teachings, practice accordingly, and when the time comes, they procrastinate. They often attend this merit-making ceremony or that one. They make merit all the time, but they can’t attain Kusala (wholesomeness). To achieve Kusala, we must be able to let go of defilements. Some people make merit, enjoy it, and become infatuated; it’s a pity. What is there to regret? Regret because you have the opportunity to encounter the Buddha’s teachings. Other religions also have acts of merit, but Kusala exists uniquely within the Buddha’s teachings. It can liberate you from greed, anger, and delusion. That’s the essence of Kusala.

We rely on the power of mindfulness and Samādhi to recognize states. When the mind becomes greedy and is recognized by the mind that is equanimous and firmly established, the greedy mind then ceases, giving rise to the knower mind, a state of wholesomeness. When anger arises and mindfulness recognizes it, with the mind being equanimous and firmly established, the anger then ceases, giving rise to the firmly established mind—the wholesome mind—in its place. That is, as soon as correct mindfulness and the correct Samādhi are present, the mind becomes wholesome already. There is no need to struggle to create wholesomeness. The moment mindfulness recognizes an unwholesome state, it subsides concurrently with the arising of mindfulness. Concurrently with the arising of mindfulness, the unwholesome state subsides, and the wholesome state arises already; it’s that quick. Practice and progress gradually.

Luangpor wishes to see all of us meditate so that one day we may experience less suffering. Once we truly understand the correct practice, it becomes our duty to transmit this radiant light to those who are still unaware. Hopefully, they will suffer less, and their suffering will diminish. This is the inheritance of the Buddha’s teachings. Do not dillydally. Many like to get together, and procrastinate. They end up not being successful. Be a good water jar; don’t be a leaky water jar. Every day, observe the Five Precepts, and engage in formal meditation as many times as we can. Whether we have 5 minutes or 10 minutes, just practice. For the remaining time in our daily life, let our eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind contact objects, and remain aware of our own minds.

We will attain liberation in a short time because Kusala (wholesomeness) arises. When mindfulness is present, unwholesome state falls away, giving rise to a wholesome state. We accumulate Kusala until it’s sufficient, and then the mind becomes pure. If we engage in wholesome deeds and perform acts of merit, but also commit evil, the mind will never be pure. One day, our enthusiasm will wane. First, we may become discouraged. This doesn’t only happen to laypeople; it also occurs among monks. When they are newly ordained, they are very energetic, meditating day and night. After many years, they become lethargic. Why? Because their practice doesn’t yield results. If it bears fruit, they won’t become lethargic.

While Luangpor was learning with Luangpu Dune, I never slackened. Did I ever get discouraged? Yes, but I never quit. I would never give up. In practice, I observed the body and mind at work, and it was fun. Things I had never seen before, I saw. Things I had never known, I knew. Things I had never understood, I understood. We’ve been with ourselves since birth, but we don’t know ourselves. Isn’t that regrettable? We are born with ourselves, but we don’t know it. It’s like everyone has never seen their own face. We see other people’s faces, but we don’t see our own. We only see the reflection in the mirror. Luangpor once noticed, did I see my own face? I found that I only see my nose because my nose sticks out a bit. If the nose were flat, I wouldn’t see it.

We exist, this body exists, this mind exists, but we don’t see them. Therefore, don’t just wander far away. Learn to go against the current, to know inwardly, to know within your own body, to know within your own mind. ‘Opanayiko’ means to be brought inward, to study inwardly. Someday, you will understand correctly that this body is suffering, this mind is suffering, and then the mind will naturally let go of them. When suffering is understood, letting go occurs. There’s no need to do anything, no need to attempt to let go. The mind lets go on its own. Since the mind recognizes their quality of suffering, why should it hold on to them? In the past, they used to liken the five aggregates to red-hot coals. These coals are beautiful, aren’t they? Coals glowing with beautiful colors, and naive children see these beautiful coals and grab them. As soon as they grasp them, they get burnt. Since then, if anyone asks them to grab those red-hot coals, they will never grab them again.

This mind is just the same. The mind grasps the aggregates, perceiving them as good, beautiful, and delightful. Yet when wisdom is matured, these aggregates are perceived as suffering. Now, even if one is hired, one won’t grasp them anymore. There’s no need to make an effort not to grasp, for one doesn’t grasp on their own. Because one sees the truth, one becomes disenchanted. Because one becomes disenchanted, one lets go. Because one lets go, one transcends. Because one transcends, one knows one has transcended. Birth has ended. Birth, which means the mind grasping at form, sound, smell, taste, body, and mind, has ended.

“Brahmacarya,” which is the Dhamma practice, is completed. It’s like finishing one’s studies. Where is the finishing line? The finishing line is when the mind becomes liberated. The mind has been liberated, and there is no more work to be done to further liberate it. There’s no need for any more effort; it has already achieved permanent liberation. Thus, birth has ended. Dhamma practice has been completed. The duties that should be done are finished. There are no more tasks for purity and liberation. It feels this way. That’s the end of suffering. When we practice and reach this point, we will no longer have doubts. Teachers often say, ‘No more doubt’ (in the Triple Gems). This teacher said ‘no more doubt’; that teacher said ‘no more doubt.’ Why are there no more doubts (in the Triple Gems)? Because they have attained a thorough understanding of the ending point of suffering.

The ultimate of suffering lies in the Dhamma itself. This Dhamma is the Dhamma beyond the worldly, beyond the aggregates, and beyond the cycle of birth and death. Without this, there is no endpoint; one will perpetually cycle. The Sotāpanna, Sakadāgami, Anāgāmi, they haven’t seen the end yet; they merely approach it. What about ordinary people like us? Can we see it? No, we cannot. We must practice diligently. Avoid distractions and procrastination. What’s concerning is our tendency to procrastinate. Even if we wholeheartedly dedicate ourselves to practice, we may still not succeed. So, if we procrastinate, can we succeed? We won’t succeed. This is the law of karma. If you practice, you’ll yield results. If you don’t practice, you won’t get any results. Or if you do wrongdoings, it won’t work.