Nature of Nibbana

sofital SG

WHERE DOES CESSATION TAKE PLACE?
A monk wanted to know where the four primary elements of earth, fire, water and air cease
totally without leaving any residue. He possessed iddhivida abhiññæ, higher knowledge of psychical
powers. So he went up to the six Planes of devas and sought of an answer. All the devas in
Catumahæræjæ, Tævatimasæ, Yæmæ, Tusitæ, Nimmænærati and Paranimmitavassavatø informed him to
approach the Great Brahma to get the solution to his riddle of the elements.
So he went to the Great Brahma and asked the latter about the place where the extermination
of the four elements takes place.
“O monk!” said the Great Brahma, “I am the greatest. I surpass all. None surpasses me. I see
all. Everything comes into being as I will it. I am the Lord of the Universe. I create the Earth and its
inhabitants. I am the creator. I am the father of all who come into being now and also of all who will
come into being in the future.”
Brahmajæla sutta discusses the theory of creation. According to it, at the beginning of the
world, a Brahma came into being in the Plane of the Brahmæs. He was then alone. As the gained
longevity, he felt oppressed with this lo neliness and so he thought to himself that it would be great if
he could have company. At this juncture some of the people on this earth gained jhæna and was
reborn in the Plane where the Great Brahmæ was residing. The new-comers were not as powerful as
himself. So he thought that they came into being because he willed them to be. They died in course
of time; but remained. Lesser Brahmæs, therefore, recognized him as their creator.
But the monk was not asking whether or not the Great Brahmæ was really the Great Brahmæ
who created the Universe. He only wanted to know the place where the four elements meet their end.
So he repeated the riddle; and the Great Brahmæ kept on saying that he was the creator. As the
questioner was persistent, he was at long last obliged to tell him the truth in the absence of all other
Brahmæs, for, he did not want to let them know his ignorance and, thereby, lost his prestige as the
all-knowing and the all-powerful.
“O monk!” he confided, “I do not know anything about the cessation of the elements. You are
wrong to have come to me when you have Buddha who can answer your question. Go to him!”
Then only the monk approached Buddha and asked: “Reverend Sir! Where do the four
primary elements come to cessation without leaving any residue?”
Buddha likened the monk to a bird flying out from a ship at sea in search of land. Not being
able to reach it, it comes back to the ship. “You should not have posed the question in the way you
did,” said Buddha, “Your question suggests as if there is a definite place outside the body where
cessation of the elements occur. In fact there is no such place. You should have asked where pathavø,
tejo, æpo and væyo lose their footing; that is to say where they lose existence. Likewise you should
have asked where do long and short, great and small and good and bad lose their footing. And, you
NIBBANAPATISAMYUTTA KATHA 65
should also have asked where do mind and matter get totally annihilated leaving no residue. If you
ask likewise, you shall have the answer.”
Then he uttered the gæthæ which begins with “viññænaμ anidassanaμ, anantaμ
sabbatopabhaμ,” which has been explained extensively before. In Nibbæna, the four elements
together with mind and matter have no footing. That is to say, they do not exist.
So far I have expounded the attributes of Nibbæna beginning with its state of emancipation
from the world of ta¼hæ to that of cessation of all formations of sa³khæra about which, I believe, all
that is to be said has been said.
As you have listened with respectful attention to this discourse on Nibbæna, may you be
rewarded with enlightenment of the Path and its Fruition that can lead you to Nibbæna where all
formations cease as cravings are discarded.

An Eternal Now SG

Thanks for the sharing. I have also posted an article previously on the topic of Nirvana --

Attending to the Deathless

by Ajahn Amaro

Ajahn Amaro is co-abbot of Abhayagiri Buddhist Monastery in Redwood Valley, California. He was born in England and trained in the Thai Forest tradition with Ajahn Chah and Ajahn Sumedho.

“When the heart is released from clinging,” said the Buddha, “then consciousness does not land anywhere. That state, I tell you, is without sorrow, afflication or despair.” Ajahn Amaro on abiding in the consciousness that is completely beyond conditioned phenomena—neither supporting them nor supported by them.

A great passage in the suttas (Anguttara Nikaya 3.128) presents an exchange between two of the Buddha's elder monks. Venerable Sariputta is the Buddha's chief disciple, the one most eminent in wisdom and also in meditative accomplishments. Although he had no psychic powers whatsoever, he was the grand master of meditators. The other elder disciple of the Buddha, Venerable Anuruddha, had spectacular psychic powers. He was the one most blessed with "the divine eye"; he could see into all the different realms.

The two disciples were an interesting mix. Sariputta's weakness was Anuruddha's great gift. Anyway, shortly before his enlightenment, Anuruddha came to Sariputta and said, "With the divine eye purified and perfected I can see the entire 10,000-fold universal system. My meditation is firmly established; my mindfulness is steady as a rock. I have unremitting energy, and the body is totally relaxed and calm. And yet still my heart is not free from the outflows and confusions. What am I getting wrong?"

Sariputta replied, "Friend, your ability to see into the 10,000-fold universal system is connected to your conceit. Your persistent energy, your sharp mindfulness, your physical calm and your one-pointedness of mind have to do with your restlessness. And the fact that you still have not released the heart from the outflows and defilements is tied up with your anxiety. It would be good, friend, if rather than occupying yourself with these concerns, you turned your attention to the deathless element." (By the way, the Pali Canon has a lot of humor in it like this, although it's rather similar to British humor and is sometimes easy to miss.) So of course Anuruddha said, “Thank you very much,” and off he went. Shortly thereafter, he realized complete enlightenment. This was very understated humor.

The point of their discussion, however, is really quite serious. As long as we are saying, "Look at how complicated my problems are," or "Look at my powers of concentration," we will stay stuck in samsara. In essence, Sariputta told his colleague, "You're so busy with all of the doingness and the effects that come from that, so busy with all of these proliferations, you'll never be free. You're looking in the wrong direction. You're looking out, looking at the meditation object out there, the 10,000-fold universal system out there. Just shift your view to the context of experience and attend to the deathless element instead."

All it took was a slight shift of focus for Anuruddha to realize: "It's not just a matter of all the fascinating objects or all the noble stuff I have been doing—that's all conditioned, born, compounded and deathbound. The timeless dharma is being missed. Look within, look more broadly. Attend to the deathless."

There are also a few places in the suttas (e.g., Majjhima Nikaya 64.9 and Anguttara Nikaya 9.36) where the Buddha talked about the same process with respect to development of concentration and meditative absorption. He even made the point that when the mind is in first jhana, second jhana, third jhana and all the way out to the higher formless jhanas, we can look at those states and recognize all of them as being conditioned and dependent. This, he said, is the true development of wisdom: the mindfulness to recognize the conditioned nature of a state, to turn away from it and to attend to the deathless, even while the state is still around. When the mind is concentrated and very pure and bright, we can recognize that state as conditioned, dependent, alien, and something that is void or empty. There is the presence of mind to reflect on the truth that all of this is conditioned and thus gross, but there is the deathless element. And in inclining toward the deathless element, the heart is released.

In a way it is like looking at a picture. Normally the attention goes to the figure in a picture and not the background. Or imagine being in a room with someone who is sitting in a chair. When you look across the room you would probably not attend to the space in front of or beside that person. Your attention would go to the figure in the chair, right? Similarly, if you've ever painted a picture or a wall, there's usually one spot where there's a glitch or a smudge. So where does the eye go when you look at the wall? It beams straight in on the flaw. In exactly the same way, our perceptual systems are geared to aim for the figure, not the ground. Even if an object looks like the ground—such as limitless light, for example—we still need to know how to turn back from that object.

Incidentally, this is why in Buddhist meditation circles there's often a warning about deep states of absorption. When one is in one, it can be very difficult to develop insight—much more so than when the mind is less intensely concentrated. The absorption state is such a good facsimile of liberation that it feels like the real gold. So we think, "It's here, why bother going any further? This is really good." We get tricked and, as a result, we miss the opportunity to turn away and attend to the deathless.

In cosmological terms, the best place for liberation is in the human realm. There's a good mixture of suffering and bliss, happiness and unhappiness here. If we are off in the deva realms, it's difficult to become liberated because it's like being at an ongoing party. And we don't even have to clean up afterwards. We just hang out in the Nandana Grove. Devas drop grapes in our mouths as we waft around with flocks of adoring beings of our favorite gender floating in close proximity. And, of course, there's not much competition; you're always the star of the show in those places. Up in the brahma realms it's even worse. Who is going to come back down to grubby old earth and deal with tax returns and building permits?

This cosmology is a reflection of our internal world. Thus the brahma realms are the equivalent of formless states of absorption. One of the great meditation masters of Thailand, Venerable Ajahn Tate, was such an adept at concentration that as soon as he sat down to meditate he would go straight into arupa-jhana, formless states of absorption. It took him twelve years after he met his teacher, Venerable Ajahn Mun, to train himself not to do that and to keep his concentration at a level where he could develop insight. In those formless states, it is just so nice that it's easy to ask, "What's the point of cultivating wise reflection or investigating the nature of experience? The experience itself is so seamlessly delicious, why bother?" The reason we bother is that those are not dependable states. They are unreliable and they are not ours. Probably not many people have the problem of getting stuck in arupa-jhana. Nonetheless, it is helpful to understand why these principles are discussed and emphasized.

This gesture of attending to the deathless is thus a core spiritual practice but not a complicated one. We simply withdraw our attention from the objects of the mind and incline the attention towards the deathless, the unborn. This is not a massive reconstruction program. It's not like we have to do a whole lot. It's very simple and natural. We relax and notice that which has been here all along, like noticing the space in a room. We don't notice space, because it doesn't grab our attention; it isn't exciting. Similarly, nibbana has no feature, no color, no taste and no form, so we don't realize it's right here. The perceptual systems and the naming activity of the mind work on forms; that's what they go to first. Therefore we tend to miss what's always here. Actually, because it has no living quality to it, space is the worst as well as the best example, but sometimes it is reasonable to use it.

In the Theravada teachings, the Buddha also talked about this quality in terms of "unsupported consciousness." This means that there is cognition, there is knowing, but it's not landing anyplace; it's not abiding anywhere. "Attending to the deathless" and "unsupported consciousness" are somewhat synonymous. They are like descriptions of the same tree, from different angles.

In describing unsupported consciousness, the Buddha taught:

The Buddha used a whole galaxy of images, similes and forms like this because they spoke to different people in different ways. In another passage the Buddha asked his disciples, "If there was a house with a wall that faced out towards the east and in that wall there was a window, when the sun came up in the morning, where would the shaft of sunlight fall?"

One of his monks replied, "On the western wall." The Buddha then asked, "And if there's no western wall, where would the sunlight land?"

The monk answered, "On the ground." Then the Buddha responded, "And if there's no ground, where will it land?" The monk replied, "On the water."

The Buddha pushed it a bit further and asked, "And if there's no water, where will it land?" The monk answered correctly when he said, "If there is no water, then it will not land." The Buddha ended the exchange by saying, "Exactly so. When the heart is released from clinging to what are called the four nutriments—physical food, sense contact (sight, sound, smell, taste, touch), intention and consciousness—then consciousness does not land anywhere. That state, I tell you, is without sorrow, affliction or despair" (Samyutta Nikaya 12.64).

In several instances, the language of the Dzogchen tradition seems strikingly similar to that of the Theravada. In Dzogchen, the common description of the qualities of rigpa, nondual awareness, is "empty in essence, cognizant in nature and unconfined in capacity." A different translation of these three qualities is "emptiness, knowing and lucidity, or clarity." In the Pali scriptures (Digha Nikaya 11.85 and Majjima Nikaya 49.25), the Buddha talks about the mind of the arahant as "consciousness which is unmanifest, signless, infinite and radiant in all directions." The Pali words are viññanam (consciousness), aniddassanam (empty, invisible or signless, non-manifestative), anantam (limitless, unconfined, infinite), and sabbato pabham (radiant in all directions, accessible from all sides).

One of the places the Buddha uses this description is at the end of a long illustrative tale. A monk has asked, "Where is it that earth, water, fire and wind fade out and cease without remainder?" To which the Buddha replies that the monk has asked the wrong question. What he should have asked is, "Where is it that earth, water, fire and wind can find no footing?" The Buddha then answers this question himself, saying it is in "the consciousness which is invisible, limitless and radiant in all directions" that the four great elements "and long and short, and coarse and fine, and pure and impure can find no footing. There it is that nama-rupa (body-and-mind, name-and-form, subject-and-object) both come to an end. With this stopping, this cessation of consciousness, all things here are brought to an end."

Such unsupported and unsupportive consciousness is not an abstract principle. In fact, it was the basis of the Buddha's enlightenment. As the Buddha was sitting under the bodhi tree, the hordes of Mara attacked him. Armies were hurling themselves at the Buddha and yet nothing could get into the space under the tree. All the weapons and spears they threw turned into rays of light; the arrows that they fired turned into flowers that came sprinkling down around the Buddha. Nothing harmful to the Buddha could get into that space. There was nowhere for it to land. Sight, sound, smell, taste and touch, long and short, coarse and fine, pure and impure are all aspects of body and mind. They represent attributes of all phenomena. Yet none of them could find a footing. The Buddha was in a non-stick realm. Everything that came toward him kept falling away. Nothing stuck; nothing could get in and harm the Buddha in any way. To get a better sense of this quality of unsupported consciousness, it's helpful to reflect on this image. Also very useful are the phrases at the end of the passage just quoted, particularly where the Buddha says, "When consciousness ceases, all things here are brought to an end."

The concept of cessation is very familiar in the Theravada tradition. Even though it's supposed to be synonymous with nibbana, it's sometimes put forth as some event that we're all seeking, where all experience will vanish and then we'll be fine: "A great god will come from the sky, take away everything and make everybody feel high." I don't want to get obsessed about words, but we suffer a lot or get confused because of misunderstandings like this. When we talk about stopping consciousness, do you think that means "Let's all get unconscious?” It can't be that, can it? The Buddha was not extolling the virtues of unconsciousness. Otherwise thorazine or barbiturates would be the way: "Give me the anesthetic and we're on our way to nibbana." But obviously that's not it. Understanding what is meant by stopping or cessation is thus pretty crucial here.

I've known people, particularly those who have practiced in the Theravada tradition, who have been taught that the idea of meditation is to get to a place of cessation. We might get to a place where we don't feel or see anything; there is awareness but everything is gone. An absence of sight, sound, smell, taste, touch, the body—it all vanishes. And then these students are told, "This is the greatest thing. That's what there is to look forward to." The teacher encourages them to put tremendous hours and diligence into their meditation. When one of these students told her teacher that she had arrived at that kind of state, he got really excited. He then asked her, "So what did it feel like?" and she said, "It was like drinking a glass of cold water but without the water and without the glass." On another occasion she said, "It was like being shut inside a refrigerator."

This is not the only way of understanding cessation. The root of the word nirodha is rudh, which means "to not arise, to end, check or hold"—like holding a horse in check with the reins. So nirodha also has a meaning of holding everything, embracing its scope. "Stopping of consciousness" can thus imply that somehow everything is held in check rather than that it simply vanishes. It's a redrawing of the internal map.

A story from the time of the Buddha might help to expand our understanding of what this means. One night while the Buddha was meditating, a brilliant and beautiful devata named Rohitassa appeared in front of him. He told the Buddha, "When I was a human being, I was a spiritual seeker of great psychic power, a sky walker. Even though I journeyed with great determination and resolution for one hundred years to reach the end of the world, I could not come to the end of the world. I died on the journey before I had found it. So can you tell me, is it possible to journey to the end of the world?"

And the Buddha replied, "It is not possible to reach the end of the world by walking, but I also tell you that unless you reach the end of the world, you will not reach the end of suffering." Rohitassa was a bit puzzled and said, "Please explain this to me, Venerable Sir." The Buddha replied, "In this very fathom-long body is the world, the origin of the world, the cessation of the world, and the way leading to the cessation of the world" (Anguttara Nikaya 4.45, Samyutta Nikaya 2.26).

In that instance the Buddha used the same exact formulation as in the Four Noble Truths. The world, or loka, means the world of our experience. That's how the Buddha almost always uses the term "the world." He's referring to the world as we experience it. This includes only sight, sound, smell, taste, touch, thought, emotion and feeling. That's it. That's what "the world" is—my world, your world. It's not the abstracted, geographical planet, universe-type world. It's the direct experience of the planet, the people and the cosmos. Here is the origin of the world, the cessation of the world and the way leading to the cessation of the world.

He said that as long as we create "me and my experience"—"me in here" and "the world out there"—we're stuck in the world of subject and object. Then there is dukkha. And the way leading to the cessation of that duality is the way leading to the cessation of suffering. Geographically, it is impossible to journey to the end of the world. Only when we come to the cessation of the world, which literally means the cessation of its otherness or thingness, will we reach the end of dukkha, unsatisfactoriness. When we stop creating sense objects as absolute realities and stop seeing thoughts and feelings as solid things, there is cessation.

To see that the world is within our minds is one way of working with these principles. The whole universe is embraced when we realize that it's happening within our minds. And in that moment when we recognize that it all happens here, it ceases. Its thingness ceases. Its otherness ceases. Its substantiality ceases.

This is just one way of talking and thinking about it. But I find this brings us much closer to the truth, because in that respect, it's held in check. It's known. But there's also the quality of its emptiness. Its insubstantiality is known. We're not imputing solidity to it, a reality that it doesn't possess. We're just looking directly at the world, knowing it fully and completely.

So, what happens when the world ceases? I remember one time Ajahn Sumedho was giving a talk about this same subject. He said, "Now I'm going to make the world completely disappear. I'm going to make the world come to an end." He just sat there and said, "Okay, are you ready? The world just ended. Do you want me to bring it back into being again? Okay, welcome back."

Nothing was apparent from the outside. It all happens internally. When we stop creating the world, we stop creating each other. We stop imputing the sense of solidity that creates a sense of separation. Yet we do not shut off the senses in any way. Actually, we shed the veneer, the films of confusion, of opinion, of judgment, of our conditioning, so that we can see the way things really are. At that moment, dukkha ceases. There is knowing. There is liberation and freedom. There is no dukkha.

If people were trying to meditate and wanted to shut the world out, Ajahn Chah used to give them a very hard time. If he came across a nun or a monk who had barricaded the windows of their heart and was trying to block everything out, he would really put them through it. He drew in one monk of this type as his attendant for a while and he would never let him sit still. As soon as he saw the monk close his eyes to "go into meditation" he would immediately send him off on some errand. Ajahn Chah knew that cutting yourself off was not the place of true inner peace. This was because of his own years of trying to make the world shut up and leave him alone. He had failed miserably. Eventually he was able to see this is not how to find completion and resolution.

Years ago, when he was a wandering monk, living on his own on a mountainside above a village, he kept a strict meditation schedule. In Thailand they love outdoor, nightlong film shows because the nights are cool compared to the very hot days. Whenever there was a party, it tended to go on all night. About fifty years ago, public address systems were just starting to be used in Thailand and every decent event had to have a PA going. It was blasted as loud as possible all through the night. One time, Ajahn Chah was quietly meditating up on the mountain while there was a festival going on down in the village. All the local folk songs and pop music were amplified throughout the area. Ajahn Chah was sitting there, seething and thinking, "Don't they realize all the bad karma involved in disturbing my meditation? They know I 'm up here. After all, I'm their teacher. Haven't they learned anything? And what about the five precepts? I bet they're boozing and out of control," and so on and so forth.

But Ajahn Chah was a pretty smart fellow. As he listened to himself complaining, he quickly realized, "Well, they're just having a good time down there. I'm making myself miserable up here. No matter how upset I get, my anger is just making more noise internally." And then he had this insight: "Oh, the sound is just the sound. It's me who is going out to annoy it. If I leave the sound alone, it won't annoy me. It's just doing what it has to do. That's what sound does. It makes sound. This is its job. So if I don't go out and bother the sound, it's not going to bother me. Aha!"

As it turned out, this insight had such a profound effect that it became a principle that he espoused from that time on. If any of the monks displayed an urge to try and get away from people or stimulation—the world of things and responsibilities—he would tend to shove them straight into it. He would put that monk in charge of the cement-mixing crew or take him to do every house blessing that came up on the calendar. He would make sure that the monk had to get involved in things because he was trying to teach him to let go of seeing meditation as needing sterile conditions—to see, in fact, that most wisdom arises from the skillful handling of the world's abrasions.

Ajahn Chah was passing along an important insight. It's pointless to try to find peace through nullifying or erasing the sense world. Peace only comes through not giving that world more substantiality or more reality than it actually possesses.

Sometimes when I use the example of the Buddha sitting under the bodhi tree, people still feel that this is a negation of the sense world. There is an intimation of condescension, a looking down on that. We become afraid when we hear people talking about dispassion towards the sense world as it can offend our habits of life affirmation.

The balance—and this is something we can experience for ourselves—is not in negation. It comes when we stop creating each other and allow ourselves to relax into a pure quality of knowing. In not fabricating the world, ourselves or our stories, there is a gentle relaxation and, ironically, we find ourselves far more attuned to life than ever. This cannot happen while we are busy carrying around "me and you" and "it's my life" and "my past" and "my future" and the rest of the world with all its problems. Actually, the result of this relinquishment is not a kind of numbness or a distancing but an astonishing attunement.

Buddhist cosmology and the stories of the suttas always have a historical, a mythical and a psychological element to them. When we talk about the Buddha under the bodhi tree, we sometimes wonder, "Was it actually that tree? Are we sure that he really sat beside the river Nerañjara near Bodhgaya? How can anyone know it was actually there?" The story goes that perhaps the Buddha did sit under a tree, or a Nepalese prince sat under a tree, and something happened (or stopped happening) somewhere in India a couple of thousand years or so ago. In other words, there are both historical and mythological aspects to the story. But the most crucial element is how this maps onto our own psychology. How does this symbolize our experience?

The pattern of the story is that even though the Buddha has totally penetrated the cycles of dependent origination and his heart is utterly free, Mara's army doesn't retreat. Mara has sent in the horrors, he has sent in his beautiful daughters, he's even sent in the parental pressure factor: "Well, son, you could have done a great job. You're such a natural leader, you would have made a great king. Now there's only your half-brother, Nanda, and he's a bit of a wimp, no good on the battlefield. Well, I guess if you're going to do this monk thing, the kingdom is going to go to rack and ruin. But that's all right, it's fine. You just do whatever you want to do. Just be aware that you're ruining my life; but don't worry, it's fine, it's okay."

The forces of allure, fear and responsibility are all there. Yet the Buddha doesn't just close his eyes and escape into blissful absorption. As the armies of Mara come at him, he looks straight at them and says, "I know you, Mara. I know what this is." The Buddha doesn't argue with Mara or give rise to aversion towards Mara. He remains undeluded; he doesn't react against what's happening in that moment. No matter what Mara's armies do, none can get into that space under the bodhi tree. All their weapons turn to flowers and incense and beams of light illuminating the vajra seat.

But even when the Buddha's heart is totally liberated, Mara still won't retreat. He says to the Buddha, "What right do you have to claim the royal seat at the immovable spot. I'm the king of this world. I'm the one who should be sitting there. I'm in charge here. I'm the one who deserves to be there, aren't I?" And he turns around to his horde, his army 700,000 strong, and they all say, "Yes, indeed, Sire!" "See," says Mara, "everyone agrees. I belong there, not you. I'm supposed to be the great one."

What happens then is that, just as Mara has called his witnesses to back him up, the Buddha calls on the mother goddess, Maer Toranee, as his witness. The Buddha reaches down to the ground, touches the earth and calls forth the earth mother. She appears and says, "This is my true son. He has every right to claim the vajra seat at the immovable spot. He has developed all the virtues necessary to claim the sovereignty of perfect and complete enlightenment. You do not belong there, Mara." The mother goddess then produces a flood from her hair and the armies of Mara are all washed away. Later they come back full of apologies, offering gifts and flowers and asking for forgiveness: "Terribly sorry about that, Mother. I didn't really mean it."

It's very interesting that Buddha thus did not become a fully enlightened, teaching Buddha without the help of the mother goddess and then, later, of the father god. It was Brahma Sahampati, the creator god, the CEO of the universe, who came and asked the Buddha to teach. Without those two figures, he would not have left the immovable spot and he wouldn't have started teaching. So, mythologically, there are some interesting little quirks to the tale.

The Buddha's gentle gesture of touching the earth is a magnificent metaphor. It is saying that even though we might have this enlightened, free space internally, it needs to be interfaced with the phenomenal world. Otherwise, there is no completion. This is why meditating with the eyes open is, in a way, such a useful bridge. We cultivate a vast internal space, but it is necessarily connected to the phenomenal world. If there is only an internal, subjective experience of enlightenment, we 're still caught. Mara's army won't retreat. The hassles are everywhere—the tax returns, the permits, the jealousies. We can see that they are empty, but they are still coming at us from all directions.

But in reaching out to touch the earth, the Buddha recognized, yes, there is that which is transcendent and unconditioned. But humility demands not simply holding to the unconditioned and the transcendent. The Buddha recognized and acknowledged that "There is the conditioned. There is the sense world. There is the earth that makes up my body and my breath and the food that I eat."

That gesture of reaching out from the transcendent is saying, How could fully engaging with the sense world possibly corrupt the innate freedom of the heart? This freedom cannot be interrupted, corrupted or confused by any sense experience. Therefore why not allow it all in? By openly, freely acknowledging the limited—needing to call the great mother to bear witness, for example—the unlimited manifests its full potential. If there is hesitency and the caution to keep the conditioned at bay, that betrays a basic lack of faith in the natural inviolability of the unconditioned.

Another phrase that expresses this same principle is cittam pabhassaram, akandukehi kilesehi, meaning "The heart's nature is intrinsically radiant; defilements are only visitors" (Anguttara Nikaya 1.61). It's pointing out the fact that the heart's nature is intrinsically pure and perfect. The things that appear to defile this purity are only visitors passing through, just wandering or drifting by. The heart's nature cannot truly be corrupted by any of that.

From Small Boat, Great Mountain: Theravadan Reflections on the Natural Great Perfection, by Ajahn Amaro. Published by Abhayagiri Monastery, 2003. Free copies of the book can be obtained from Abhayagiri Monastery or downloaded from their Web site: www.abhayagiri.org.

sofital SG

A Detailed Account of the Life Story of the late Sun Lun Gu Kyaung Sayadaw who found the Nature of Nibbana

(This detailed life story is a record of what was heard from the mouth of the late Sun Lun Gu kyaung Sayadaw of Myingyan.)

It is the inherent nature of an Ariyā to be obsessed with a persistent desire for escape from the perilous round of rebirths, characterized by constant perishing of mental and material phenomena. One such Ariyā to be, faring in SaÑsarÈ’s innumerable existences, happened to be born as a parrot during the time of Kassapa Buddha who appeared in the Bhadda-kappa (the present world) which is blessed by Five Buddhas.

One day, the parrot happened to meet Kassapa Buddha. Being endowed with innate wisdom, he knew that it was a Noble Personage. He was inspired to pay homage to the Buddha. He offered a fruit to the Buddha respectfully with his wings touching each other above his head. The Buddha out of compassion accepted the bird’s gift and said, “May all your wishes come to fulfillment”. The parrot watched the Buddha with revered eyes as the Buddha departed, his little heart full of joy, uttering “O, what a good deed I have done!” Since the donee was the Buddha himself and the donor made his gift with strong conviction, the resultant was bound to be fruitful. The parrot was reborn in the good destinations of the seven planes of sensual existence under glorious circumstances. After faring in a number of Celestial realms, he was reborn in the human world as a great Tikicchaka Physician (N.B. The Sayadaw once said: “Those who had met me during my existence as a great Physician will come to me now and take up the practice of Dhamma under me.”) During the time of Gotama Buddha, the great Physician was reborn as the famous Barr-mai Sayadaw, mentor to King Man|hā of Thaton, Thuwanna Bhumi, the great patron of the Buddha’s Teaching. After passing away from that existence, the future Sun Lun Sayadaw was reborn as a child of U Thant and Daw Tok of Sun Lun village in the southern part of Myingyan Township in Upper Burma. (N.B. During the British administration the country was divided into Upper Burma and Lower Burma, the upper region being still under Burmese King.)

At the time of conception, the father had a dream in which a man of noble appearance came to his house and asked for permission to stay in the house. U Thant told that man, not to stay with his family because he was very poor. Although he refused many times, the stranger insisted to stay, and at last had to agree. The family took the dream as auspicious. The mother Daw Tok after nine months of pregnancy, in the tenth month give birth to the child, the future- Sun Lun Sayadaw, at the few minutes before 4 am on the second waning day of Tabaung (March) in 1239 ME, which was the year 2421 of the Sāsanā Era. The child had a particularly bright appearance. At the time of naming him, with the usual washing of the hair, in view of the good omens, he was named Maung Kyaw Din (Meaning Master Famous).

(U Thant and Daw Tok had three children; Ma Thinn, Ko Kyaw Din and Ko Aung Khaing).

Ko Kyaw Din was placed under the Min-Kyaung Sayadaw of Myingyan for his education. He was a dull pupil and did not get far in his studies. So his father U Thant found him a menial post like his, in the office of the Deputy Commissioner of Myingyan.

When Ko Kyaw Din grew up, he married Ma Shwe Yi of his native village. The couple begot four children but three died in infancy and only a son by the name of Ko Shein (a) Ko Kan Nyunt survived to this day.

Ko Kyaw Din thought that his work as an office-boy in government office held no good prospects and resigned the job at the age of thirty. He worked as a cultivator in the family estate, a dry patch of land. One day, one U San Tin, said to achieved occult powers and was patronized by the (four) Great Guardian Kings of Catumahārāja DevÈs Realm, came to him and recited some strange prophetic words without any context. His words roughly might be translated that:

“Amai Bok’s skeins got tangled, who’s there to clear up this mess? The shuttle moves along amidst the threads of skeins.

The ruined stump of the pagoda emits rays! Ma Khway is dressed in the beautiful longyi of ‘Pondaw’ design with a green fringe and a checkered blue. The weaver’s gear made of ‘Kyun-bo’ teak puts forth a sound that can be heard from a distance of ten thousand Y|janās.”

U San Tin then explained his words as follows: “The skeins that are tangled get entangled when put to the loom, isn’t it?”

“Yes, of course”

“That being so, U Kyaw Din, the tangled skein called Avijjā (Ignorance) by far more tangled than the skeins, will have to be disentangled by you with Sati (Mindfulness). A weaving factory will appear south of Sun Lun Village. When it does, you will have to promote the Sāsanā at Kyun-bo-pin-kone. When you take up the work of promoting the Sāsanā, there will be two teak pillars there. The meaning of the old stump of the pagoda emitting rays fore-tells the emergence of practice of the Buddha’s Teaching that has so far been forgotten by the people”.

“Oh, all humbug, my friend,” retorted U Kyaw Din.

“Just wait and see” said U San Tin.

That year, they purchased another plot of cultivable land. At the beginning of the raining season U Kyaw Din and Daw Shwe Yi went to their field to clear it up to start ploughing. U Kyaw Din said to his wife: “We shall sow sessamum in our field this year. If we reap a yield of fifty baskets we shall offer a thousand lights at the pagoda”. Daw Shwe Yi replied, “Why fifty? If we get forty baskets we will make an offering of one thousand lights!” “Good, Ma Shwe Yi,” said the husband, let us be true to our word. At our offering we won’t have a procession with music as is the custom. In case the girls in the procession got their jewellery lost, it would mean botheration for us. Let’s make it a simple affair”.

A few days later, they sowed sessamum seeds in the field. When the seeds sprouted there was no rain at the beginning of the rainy season and the tiny plants withered. Fortunately, they survived till the rains come. Other fields were not so fortunate: the plants did not survive. U Kyaw Din’s fields yielded forty baskets of sessamum- exactly forty!

True to their words, they pressed the sessamum into oil. Daw Shwe Yi proposed that nine viss of the oil be marked for offering of one thousand lights; nine viss would be offered to the SaÑghÈ. U Kyaw Din asked her how many bhikkhus would be the donees. Daw Shwe Yi said “four Bhikkhus, and two viss to be donated to each. The remaining one viss should see to the congregation at the ceremony”. And U Kyaw Din agreed.

On the full moon day of Thadingyut (October) 1281ME, the couple made their light offering at the pagoda south east of the village. At the congregation where they listened to the sermon of the SaÑghā and poured the consecration water. They gave to their guests pickled tea leaves, cheroots and betel - as was the custom. Meantime, U Kyaw Din was at the pagoda watching the burning little lamps of oil. He observed how the tips of the wicks turned black and the oil boiled. The sight moved his mind greatly.

So much so that goose-flesh appeared on his skin. He was shaking violently. “Oh, it’s very extraordinary,” he thought himself. If I were to make a wish now, my wish will become fulfilled.” He felt convinced about it. So he made the wish: “May I become a Bhikkhu. May I teach Dhamma to the people. May they follow my example in the practice as instructed by me.”

Having made the wish whole heartedly, it occurred to him thus, I am quite illiterate: how shall I teach Dhamma as a Bhikkhu?” At that time, he was not only illiterate but also had not heard Dhamma taught by others. He had no knowledge about the various types of Enlightenment such as Pacceka Buddha-hood, the Chief Discipleship, the Great Discipleship and Ordinary Discipleship. So he simple wished for Bhikkhu-hood. Anyway, he was immensely pleased with himself for having spoken out his wish before the Buddha and was anticipating fully of its fulfillment.

It was a decidedly prosperous year for him. He had heard people say that a marked prosperity forebodes death. Further, he had heard them says that when one’s horoscope happen to fall under the planet Saturn, one is liable to meet his death. And he knew that his horoscope was then falling under Saturn. Myingyan at that juncture was infected with the epidemic of plague (which came every year then). May be I might fell a victim to plague. In that case, he felt he had very little store of merit while being full of demerit. His good fortune that year particularly made him uneasy. He was obsessed with death.

It was during those uneasy days that on a month of Tabaung (March) night U Kyaw Din dreamt a dream. In the dream, U Kyaw Din saw a Buddha Image come into the temporary pandal in front of his house and was making certain movements, smiling. U Kyaw Din said to his wife, “Just hand me that rice bowl. I will offer the rice to the Buddha with my hands.” As he was in the act of making his rice offering to the Buddha, the Buddha Image said to him, “O, what a fuss! I am talking to you only for now. I shall not talk to you in future.” At that U Kyaw Din woke up from his dream. He found himself trembling violently. He took the dream as an omen of his impending death. He roused up his wife from her sleep and told her about the dream. He urgently asked for some candles. Daw Shwe Yi told him to keep the dream to himself and fetched some candles for him. He took the candles and went straight to the Pagoda where he met his boyhood friend U Chi Daing. “What brings you here (at this unearthly hour),” asked U Chi Daing?

“I come to offer light to the Buddha,” replied U Kyaw Din. “I am terribly afraid of death!” U Chi Daing asked him of his date of birth and made some calculations. Then he said, “The horoscope says that this year your family is liable to lose a two-legged (meaning a human being in astrological parlance). U Kyaw Din said, “Dear fellow, don’t try to frighten me. I am already dying with fear of death!”

To this U Chi Daing replied: “Look here Kyaw Din, I am telling you just what the horoscope says.”

U Kyaw Din was definitely shaken. He made an earnest request to his friend, “Old boy, let me join your daily worshipping sessions. Call me every day.” Meanwhile, the two friends were joined by U San Tin. U Kyaw Din also begged U San Tin to call him for the daily worshipping sessions.

Not long afterwards, U Kyaw Din and U San Tin were dozing off while in conversation on the floor of the front part of U Kyaw Din’s place. Then U San Tin said, “These multitudes (sentient beings) are in as pitiable plight. They are suffering in the three kinds of scourge (War, Famine and Disease). They are falling off from an abyss after losing their way.” U Kyaw Din rejoined him saying, “True it is, we all have lost our way and are falling into an abyss. If only we got the right direction, I am prepared to take it.” To this U San Tin said: “The Right direction is not hard to find. Just wait at the cross-roads. Someone who can show the Right Direction will appear.” U Kyaw Din could not understand what U San Tin said and asked him what he meant. U San Tin did not answer, he was dozing off again. U Kyaw Din shook him and asked again. U San Tin said, “Don’t be afraid, there are the Triple Gems for us, the Buddha, the Dhamma and the SaÑghā are our refuge.”

U San Tin’s words of encouragement did not bring solace to U Kyaw Din who was deeply agitated with the prospect of death. He felt that his fear would cause him great harm. He thought of curing his mental sickness. He confided with his friend, “U San Tin, my mind is sorely agitated, I feel that I am heading for a great misfortune. I need to cure my mind of this mental sickness. I think of going about it like this; I will put up a pandal in front of my house as I saw in my dream. I will have a Buddha Image properly arranged there and we shall all gather together for regular worshipping sessions. That way I hope I can get happiness.”

“You please yourself, friend,” said U San Tin.

“Then come early tomorrow morning. Let us gather some bamboo and put up a pandal.”

On the following evening, elderly people of the village gathered at U Kyaw Din’s place. Some were discussing about Mind and Mental Concomitants. Daw Shwe Yi gave light refreshment to the guests in the customary fashion. During the first one or two days, religious discussion that took place among the guests did not have any effect on U Kyaw Din’s mind. On the third evening, U Ba San, a clerk at the Steel Brothers company’s weaving factory came uninvited. He talked about Ānāpāna, Ledi Sayadaw’s method of Vipassanā meditation practice. The word Ānāpāna had a magic effect on U Kyaw Din’s mind. It stirred his mind so much that goose-flesh formed on his skin. “What has become of me?” he wondered. “It seems I am going to find the Right way. This man came without invitation. Perhaps he came just for my sake. My dream has come true. Here I waited at the cross-roads putting up a pandal. And he comes to talk about Dhamma, how to go about it. Surely I am going to gain what I want, if I try by his method.” Then he thought of his lack of learning. This method, he understood, was for literate persons only. He was quite illiterate. “How could he gain from his method?” He had his doubts. “Anyhow, I will wait till he comes again and ask him about it,” he bethought himself. The next evening when the clerk came, he waited at the entrance of the pandal and asked him. “Mr. Clerk, Sir, will an illiterate person like me be able to practise the way you said the other day?” To this the guest replied: “Literate or not, that doesn’t matter. Conviction (SadhÈ) and Effort (VÊriya) are the essential things.” U Kyaw Din asked again, “Then, how does one go about it?” U Ba San simply replied, “In-breaths and out-breaths, that’s Ānāpāna,” and went into the pandal.

Those two words from his guest enervated him. With a glad heart, he went into an extension of his house at one side, sat in an easy chair fitted with a gunny cloth as seat, and started noting. “Ah, this is in-breath, this is out-breath”, “Now he was on the way. He continued the practice of in-breathing and out-breathing seriously and zealously. He was full of confidence for success. He had great conviction. And he worked energetically. One day, a neighbor U Shwe Lok, came and remarked. “Awareness must be present.” U Kyaw Din asked, “How is awareness to be present?” And U Shwe Lok answered. “Well, it’s that you must be aware of what you are doing.” “What’s the benefit of it” asked U Kyaw Din? “That is meritorious,” U Shwe Lok replied: “If that is meritorious,” said U Kyaw Din, “I will do it.”

U Kyaw Din practiced awareness in his work. When he chopped dried stalks of corn stems for cattle feed, he kept aware of every stroke of his cutting blade. In this way, he earned much merit while he finished the work more efficiently. His Insight got developed for developing awareness. In breathing, he kept aware of the touching of air at the tip of the nose. In walking, he kept aware of each touching of the sole with the ground. In weeding or in digging or in drawing water at the well, he kept aware of every movement.

At every odd moment by day or by night he practiced mindfulness with full awareness- at home or on the field or in the Maung Yin Paw ravine, an out of the way place. There at the outskirt of the forest, he would meditate overnight. He gained concentration, thanks to his conviction and energetic effort. He saw multi-colored lights which he thought to be the multi-colored hues of the Buddha’s Rays. This give him encouragement much impetus. Not long afterwards, he saw a little ball hovering around his face. As he watched it with keen interest, it rose slowly upwards. He followed it as it rose till he found himself amidst the clouds.

He was please with his progress. As he worked earnestly the next day, he noticed a little ball the size of a fire-fly emitting light. As he was looking it, the little ball rose upwards till he found himself amidst an array of pinnacled mansions. He thought those things as the place he was destined for. He came back satisfied and joyful, far from being afraid.

As he practiced persistently, he observed painful sensations on his body. He was aware of the arising of painful sensation noting the fact with mindfulness. Touch and awareness are made mindful of at every occurrence. He became attuned to awareness at all times. When he talked, he talked only about mindfulness of awareness, i.e., about natural phenomena and that made him look odd in social dealings.

People said, “this man has his screws loose.” U Kyaw Din preferred to be treated as a mentally deranged person, for that freed him of unprofitable social engagements and made him pursue his practice more fully. He made use of this opportunity by day and by night.

As he advanced in his practice, he saw the people always going after sense-objects. He felt consternation about humanity. He had few words with his neighbors. When he happened to be speaking to them, he reminded them to be mindful. “Hey, you!” he would say, “Remember the Buddha, remember the Dhamma, remember the SaÑghā. You are going to die in three days, (or) in five days, (or) in seven days.” But alas, those spoken to in those terms met their death as foretold by him. U Kyaw Din told people how he could see the internal organs of people, the denizens (inhabitants) of Niraya, the realm of continuous suffering, congested like maggots in a putrid carcass of a dog. When news of U Kyaw Din’s Super-human power spread, people came to him to trace their lost cattle, or to get prescriptions for sickness. U Kyaw Din became fed up. He felt the need for seclusion. So he spent most of his time meditating alone at the Maung Yin Paw ravine.

(N.B: The Sayadaw later said: Mundane powers are quite attractive: I was fortunate to be able to outgrow them.)

Touch, Awareness, Mindfulness — with these three essential features, the practice of Vipassanā proceeded for U Kyaw Din in his observance of natural breathing. With constant practice, he observed the painful sensations as they arise in his body. By constant mindfulness, Insight into rise and fall of physical and mental phenomena was attained. This in technical parlance is called Udayabbaya ÒāÓa. This Insight enabled him to see the details of the inside of his body as though the body were cut open to see.

(N.B: Seeing the process of arising and perishing of phenomena may be either in liquid form or in solid form. If the meditator proceeds with the practice, putting forth energetic effort, with a strong conviction and resoluteness, uninterruptedly day and night, he will reach a stage where he comes to understand the nature of the Mind, the Mental Concomitants and the Physical Body, how they arise and how they dissolve. The meditator can see these happenings clearly. The Insight into rise and fall of phenomena has three categories, the crude type, the middle type and the refined type. Only by one’s own practice can these fine points become comprehensible. These are the Sayadaw’s remarks in this matter.)

Note: Only so much needs be told at this stage. : Author.

(1). After attaining Insight into rise and fall of phenomena, on Thursday the 13th waning day of Wasou (July) 1282 ME, at about 10 pm U Kyaw Din attained the first Supra-mundane Knowledge, SotÈpana (First Stage).

U Kyaw Din continued with his work. Daw Shwe Yi was fretting all the time. She pulled out all the bamboo strips that made the flooring of U Kyaw Din cot (bed) and pushed him down. She pulled out all the bamboo strips so that no flooring was left, U Kyaw Din did not move away. Instead, he squatted on the beam of the cot. At last Daw Shwe Yi gave in. She replaced the bamboo strips on the cot (bed). U Kyaw Din said to her, “Why are you disturbing my work?”

“I intend to be struck by you” she replied.

“Dear wife, I shall never strike you. Try and talk me out of it.”

“You good for nothing man, keeping numb all the time like Prince Temiya (of the Jātaka). If you are so keen to meditate, why won’t you wear the yellow robes and stay at the monastery?”

Daw Shwe Yi kept up her fretting and fuming every day. U Kyaw Din kept patient since he was not still successful, like the aged Upaka of the scripture story.

On another occasion, when U Kyaw Din was meditating, Daw Shwe Yi let-loose her cow from the tethered post and cried to her husband, “Look! The cow has gone loose from her post, U Kyaw Din, you go after the cow, quick!” That cow was dangerous one, use to attacking anyone coming near her. However, on this occasion she stood still without attacking anyone. Daw Shwe Yi got furious. Stamping her foot hard on the floor, she railed against her husband who seemed not to notice her and continued with his meditating work.

He progressed in his practice. His ability to be mindful on Sensation in the body developed. When others used abusive words against him, he felt displeasure. His mindfulness told him, “Look, anger has arisen in you.” At that same moment, he could choked his anger. He was encouraged by his fortitude due to constant mindfulness. He was pleased to remember that before he practiced mindfulness, he would certainly have slapped that abusive person on the face. Likewise, when he saw a pleasing form he felt pleasure. He understood that pleasure as greed. The eye merely saw the eye-object. The pleasing form was merely perception. It has nothing to feel pleased. Similarly, whenever he heard a sound, he understood it as perception of hearing; and whenever he touched some tangible objects, he understood it as perception of touch; whenever he smelt some odour, he understood it as perception of smell. In any of these perceptions he did not allow any pleasure or displeasure to arise in his mind. In this way, he had some understanding of the working of the mind in regard to sense objects.

One night when U Kyaw Din, keeping mindfulness, fell asleep. He had a dream like this. He got into a booking office of a railway station where he bought a ticket. The station-master gave him four tickets. He took them and put them in his pocket. Soon the train started and he woke up from the dream. Not long afterwards, he had another dream. He saw in the dream an ox running towards him. He grabbed the tail of the animal. The tail broke loose from it and he had the tail left in his hand. Just then, he woke up from the dream. U Kyaw Din interpreted the dream. It portended, he thought, in that later part of the Buddha’s Teaching, he was going to break loose from the woeful world. Greatly encouraged by the dream, he put forth his effort.

(2). On Saturday, the 13th waning day of Wagaung (August) at about 10 pm he won the second Supra-mundane Knowledge, SakadÈgÈmi (Second Stage).

(N.B.- Having had the first experience of winning the Supra-mundane Dhamma, the Sayadaw told us that the second attainment was not greatly different from the first apart from the way unpleasant sensations arose.)

After attaining the Supra-mundane Dhammas twice, U Kyaw Din came to use bombastic words. He was able to understand the laws of nature. When people of the village came to tell him that someone was sick, U Kyaw Din might say, “He is going to die,” then that man died. If someone was sick and U Kyaw Din said, “He’s not going to die yet,” then that man recovered. His words proved so correct that people dared not open any conversation with him. U Kyaw Din did not care about what people said, but went on zealously with his work.

(3). Then on Monday, the 13th waning day of Taw-tha-lin (September) 1282 ME, at about 10 pm, he struggled with extraordinarily severe pains arising within him, feeling as if all the sinew broke off and overcoming them, won the third Supra-mundane Knowledge, AnÈgÈmi (Third Stage).

(N.B.: The third winning of the Supra-mundane Dhamma was marked by an emission of semen, which symbolized the extirpation of sexual interest. A most severe attack of painful sensation had to be met with. Overcoming it was a sure signal of success. The Sayadaw said that only when a meditator has overcome it he would say, “well done!”)

The next day, he found that he was free from fear so much so that he could remain unperturbed even when a thunderbolt fell in front of him. He went ahead with his work. He felt very much concerned with the plight of humanity. “Ah, these people are so occupied with sensual objects,” he felt. He dreaded living amidst the people. He had a strong desire to become a recluse i.e, to lead the homeless life of a Bhikkhu.

He reflected on the world to see the enemies that are to be contended with. He found Greed, Hatred, Bewilderment and Conceit. Of these, he found Greed to be the prime source of trouble. He therefore worked to get-rid of Greed. His method was Touch-Awareness-Mindfulness. As one touches something, one remains aware of the touch and notices the fact with mindfulness. By practising this way earnestly, greed gets less and less and becomes weaker and weaker. When he thought of any enemy that would still remain, he realized that his wife and children and own properties were the closest enemies for him.

He pondered on the state of affairs by way of cause and effect:- “This being bridled with impediments such as wife, children and properties are the resultants of the cause, and the cause is that I have not settled my debts. I must settle my debts now.” These were the thoughts that came to his mind.So he said to his wife, “(Ma Shwe Yi) you and I became husband and wife due to past Kamma. Do not settle my debts. Let me not settle your debts either. Let us agree to break up our wed-lock. I will regard you as my own sister and you will regard me as your own brother. Give me permission to become a Bhikkhu.”

Daw Shwe Yi replied, “Don’t settle the debts owing to me. Don’t go away anywhere. Don’t turn a Bhikkhu. Stay here at the specially revered room. Let me treat you and look after you as an elder brother. It is said that a husband makes his wife respectable and that a wife makes her husband graceful. Besides, a woman without protection of her husband is liable to be abused and persecuted by others. To be my protector, don’t go away from here.” She used the best of her feminine eloquence to deter him from his plan.

At that time, U Kyaw Din lacking general knowledge, thought that consent of wife was necessary to enter Bhikkhu-hood. He felt miserable for not being able to get his wife’s consent. His thought ran like this, “O, what a misfortune, living as a house-holder is full of faults. Where could I find a livelihood that is faultless? People around me are leading lives that are not free from blame. The only way to lead a faultless life is a choice between two things; turn into a Bhikkhu or else wear the rags and live like a mad man. Perhaps the second choice alone is open for me. So I shall wear a gunny bag with two holes at the upper corners, make a bigger hole at the top for putting the head. The gunny bag will serve as my garment as well as my bed-cloth. For my food, I will beg from house to house, carrying a cup. People will feed me as a beggar and no one will harm a poor beggar. That way I can lead a blameless life. What a splendid idea!” Those were the ideas that came to his desperate mind.

U Kyaw Din was a very unhappy man then. He could not eat properly. His strength waned. He thought he was going to die. He could not adjust himself to life around him. So he made a further appeal to his wife. But Daw Shwe Yi did not yield. Their neighbors took sympathy for U Kyaw Din and pleaded with the wife saying, “Ma Shwe Yi, give your consent now or he will surely die. Look at how he had starved himself and how run-down he has become – only bone and skin left of the man.” Daw Shwe Yi was still adamant. She replied to them, “O, let him die. Death is better than separation. I can forget if he was to die but how could I live alone seeing him as a total stranger? If I were to give my consent I shall be feeling miserable every time I see him.”

The friends persisted in their well-intentioned advice until the wife had to soften her stance. She told them, “Well, I shall give him permission for a fortnight or so.” U Kyaw Din then said, “Let it be so. If I did not find suited to Bhikkhu-hood, I shall return home at once but if it suits me, which depend on my past store of Kamma, let me stay a Bhikkhu for as long as my good Kamma holds.”

Even then, Daw Shwe Yi had an outstanding task for U Kyaw Din. Their land which had been ploughed just recently was waiting the sowing of crops. She told him to be so good as sow some peas. “That’s not going to take long,” she told him. U Kyaw Din had to oblige. He yoked his pair of oxen and went to the fields. Once on the fields, when U Kyaw Din mounted the plough and gave his oxen the signal to move, the pair kept looking back at him and did not move forward. U Kyaw Din then thought thus, “My pair of oxen are usually very obedient. They never needed any prodding. Formerly, when ever I mounted the plough, they were always very eager to move, as if vying between each other. Now they are protesting against me – not wishing me to be working as a plough-man. If I were to ignore their protestation, there would be no one more stupid than me. Now is the time for me to be firm in my resolve,” so he calculated. Bracing himself thus, he dismounted, dissembled the plough, took the handling frame in his hand and leaned the plough-shaft against a near by tree. Then, unfastening the tether ropes on his bullocks, he said; “Now my good help-mates, I set you free. From now onwards you and I have parted ways for ever. You may go where ever you wish to go.” He then headed towards the monastery of Bhikkhu U Kyauk. On the way, he met Daw Tin, who asked him where he was going. He said he was going to the monastery to become a SāmaÓera (Novice). Daw Tin said, “I’ve got a used upper robe. Take it and don’t let Ma Shwe Yi know about it.” Taking it, he went and saw Bhikkhu U VÊriya (a) U Kyauk who gave him a lower robe and received him into the order of Bhikkhu as a Novice. He was named Shin Kavi by the Bhikkhu U VÊriya.

As the Sayadaw U Kavi went forth into Bhikkhu-hood after leaving the plough-stock leaning against a nearby tree, he was known as “Tun-daung-ko-daw” or the Revered one who left the plough-stock leaning against a tree.

(The Sayadaw U Kavi made his wish to become a member of the Order of Bhikkhu offering lights at the Pagoda in Tha-ding-gyut (October) 1281 ME and his wish was fulfilled on the 5th waning day of Tha-ding-gyut (October) 1282 ME, just one year after wishing for it.

Shin Kavi lost no time in continuing his meditation practice after becoming a SāmaÓera. He went alone to Maung Yin Paw ravine and resumed his practice. After five days of his joining the Order, he was joined by U Shwe Lok as another Novice who came and lived with him. One day, Shin Kavi saw a big mushroom by the side of the monastery and pulled it out of the earth, when a number of mushroom buds came out along with the big mushroom. He took it as a good omen fore-telling his successful endeavour, that he was about to free himself from this earthly existence which is woeful so he went on orduously with his work.

(4). On Tuesday, on the 13th waning day of Tha-ding-gyut (October) 1282 ME, at about 10 pm, he saw a grand covered approach (to a pagoda) and also a flying chariot approaching him making a buzzing sound. He did not pay attention to it but just get absorbed in his meditation. However, he felt himself lifted up in his sitting, his body seeming to lose weight. He found that the chariot lay beneath him. Turning around, he saw at the four corners Great DevÈ Kings with Sakka, Lord of the DevÈs on the right side. He believed that these celestial personages had come to protect him as he was on the point of winning Supra-mundane Knowledge. Without making a shift in his posture, he remained engaged in his meditation. There upon he gained the fourth Supra-mundane Knowledge, Arahanta (Fourth Stage).

After that he looked around, Sakka and the four Great DevÈ Kings were gone. On winning the Fourth Path Knowledge, he could see the whole universe with the topmost realm of Brahmā and the nethermost (bottom most) realm of AvÊci, realm of continuous suffering. He saw Sakka and the Four Great DevÈ Kings announcing to the world in resounding voices that an Arahanta has arisen in the human world and were urging every one to go and pay their homage to the Noble-one.

After that, living beings closest to him came into his views. There were guardian spirits of the earth, guardian spirits of trees and also DevÈs of the celestial realms. An endless stream of resplendent DevÈs coming to pay homage to him. He then understood the existence of the three worlds that is, the world of Sentient Beings (Satta Loka), the world of Volitional Activities (Sa~khÈra Loka) and the world of Physical Base (Okāsa Loka). As well as the three kinds of Internal world, the three kinds of External world. The world of Sentient Beings (Satta Loka), the world of Volitional Activities that condition the life of Beings (Sa~khÈra Loka) and the world of Physical Base (Okāsa), he knew as the three kinds of External world. The three Internal world are Mind, Mental Concomitants and Corporeality he understood as the world of Sentient Beings (Satta Loka). The conditioning factors that cause the arising and dissolution of Mind, Mental Concomitants and Corporeality constitute the second kind of the world of Volitional Activities (Sa~khÈra Loka) of the three internal worlds and the Physical Base for the two other internal worlds to come into play constitute the third kind (Okāsa Loka) of the three internal worlds. Further, he understood with discrimination the (Nine) attributes of the Buddha, the (Six) attributes of Dhamma and the (Nine) attributes of the SaÑghā.

Attainment of the Four Paths was related by him thus; firstly, he knew this is Corporeality (R|pa), this is Mentality (Nāma), this is Mind (Citta), these are Mental Concomitants (Cetasika), this is the Truth of Woefulness (Dukkha Saccā, Suffering), this is the Origin of Woefulness (Samudaya Saccā), this is the way leading to the Cessation of Woefulness (Magga Saccā), this is Cessation of the Woefulness (Nirodha Saccā). Comprehending these Four Ariya Truths is called SotÈpatti Magga (Path of the Knowledge of the Stream Winner) and SotÈpatti Phala (Fruition of the Knowledge of the Stream Winner).

Secondly, he knew this is Corporeality (R|pa), this is Mentality (Nāma), this is Mind (Citta), these are Mental Concomitants (Cetasika). This is the Truth of Dukkha (Suffering, Dukkha Saccā), this is the Origin of Dukkha (Samudaya Saccā), this is the way leading to Cessation of Dukkha (Magga Saccā), this is the Cessation of Dukkha (Nirodha Saccā). Comprehending the Four Ariya Truths is called Sakadāgāmi Magga (Path of the Knowledge of the Once Re-turner) and Sakadāgāmi Phala (Fruition of the Knowledge of the Once Re-turner).

Thirdly, he knew this is Corporeality (R|pa), this is Mentality (Nāma), this is Mind (Citta), these are Mental Concomitants (Cetasika). This is the Truth of Dukkha (Suffering, Dukkha Saccā ), this is the Origin of Dukkha (Samudaya Saccā), this is the way leading to the Cessation of Dukkha (Magga Saccā), this is the Cessation of Dukkha (Nirodha Saccā). Comprehending the Four Ariya Truths is called Anāgāmi Magga (Path of the Knowledge of the Non-Returner) and Anāgāmi Phala (Fruition of the Knowledge of the Non-Returner).

Fourthly, he knew this is Corporeality (R|pa), this is Mentality (Nāma), this is Mind (Citta), these are Mental Concomitants (Cetasika). This is the Truth of Dukkha (Suffering, Dukkha Saccā), this is the Origin of Dukkha (Samudaya Saccā), this is the way leading to Cessation of Dukkha (Magga Saccā), this is Cessation of Dukkha (Nirodha Saccā). Comprehending the Four Ariya Truths is called Arahatta Magga (the Path of Arahatta Knowledge) and Arahatta Phala (Fruition of Arahatta Knowledge). He reflected on and reviewed each of these Four Stages of his attainment and remained in a Blissful state (which is known only to the Ariyās).

Shin Kavi reflected on his past existences in the light of Cause- Resultant principle, he found that mostly, he had been born as an animal with very few existence as a human being. Since his past existences were so numerous, he made a wish to see a particular existence that had been the cause of his spiritual advancement. Then he saw that during the time of Kassapa Buddha, belonging to the Bhadda-kappa (the present world) graced by Five Buddhas, he had made a wish before the Kassapa Buddha after offering Him with some fruit. As the result of that wish he won Path knowledge now.

http://www.dhammaweb.net/sunlun.html

sofital SG

Question and Answer for path to Nibbana
1.1
How do we, in the four stages of ānāpānasati(mindfulness-of-breathing), decide when to go from one stage to an-other?
Answer 1.1
The Buddha taught ānāpānasati step by step: long breath, short breath, whole breath and subtle breath, only for easy understanding. At the time of actual practice, all four stages may occur at the same time. Then, if you can concentrate on the whole long breath, and the whole short breath for about one hour, then (as your concentra-tion improves) the breath will automatically become subtle, and
you can change to concentrate on the subtle breath. When the subtle breath is long, you should try to know the whole, long,subtle breath; when the subtle breath is short, you should try to know the whole, short, subtle breath.If the breath does not become subtle by itself, you should concentrate on it (attention(manāsikāra)) with the decision that it should be subtle.
That way it will become subtle, but you must not make the breath subtle on purpose, nor make it long or short on purpose; just decide that it should be calm.
In this way, long breath, short breath, whole breath and subtle breath, all the four
stages, are included in a single stage. At the early part of the fourth stage, the breath becomes only very subtle. It does not cease entirely. The breath ceases entirely only at the fourth jhāna. This is the subtlest stage

To be continued

sofital SG

Question 1.2
Is it necessary, in meditation, to have a nimitta?
Answer 1.2
In some meditation subjects (kammaññhāna) like ānāpānasati(mindfulness-of-breathing), kasiõa meditation and repulsiveness meditation(asubha), a nimitta is necessary. If one wants to attain jhāna in other meditation subjects, like recollection-of-The-Buddha(Buddhānussati),animitta is not possible. In lovingkindness meditation (mettā bhāvanā), breaking down the barriers is called the nimitta.

Question 1.3
Some say that while practising ānāpānasati (mindfulness-of-breathing) their soul goes out of the body. Is that true, or are they on the wrong path?
Answer 1.3
A concentrated mind can usually create a nimitta. When concentration is deep, strong, and powerful, then because of different perceptions, different nimittas appear. For example, if you want the nimitta to be long, it will be long; if you want it to be short, it will be short; if you want it to be round, it will be round;if you want it to be red, it will be red. So various perceptions may arise while practising ānāpānasati. You may perceive yourself as outside the body. It is simply a mental creation, not because of a soul. It is not a problem. Just ignore it, and return to being mindful of your breath. Only when you discern ultimate mentality- materiality(paramatthanāma-rūpa)internally and externally, can you solve the problem of a soul: you will not find a soul anywhere. So, you need to breakdown the compactness of mentality and materiality, and realize ultimate mentality and materiality.

sofital SG

It is because of the perception of compactness, that the perception

of a soul arises.To break down the compactness of materiality, you must first

discern the rūpa-kalāpas (small particles). Then you must discern the different types of ultimate materiality, which are at least eight

in each rūpa-kalāpa. Without doing this the perception of a soul will not disappear.

Similarly, without breaking down the compactness of mentality,the perception of a soul will not disappear. For example, when your mind wanders, you may think that the wandering mind is your soul.

And how do you break down the compactness of mentality?

Take, for example a mind-door cognitive-process of access concentration

that has the ānāpāna pañ ibhāga-nimitta as object.Such a cognitive-process has one mind-door adverting-con-sciousness and seven impulsion-consciousnesses

(javanas) In the mind-door adverting-consciousness moment there are twelve

mental formations, and in each impulsion moment there are thirty-four mental formations.

There are four types of compactness in such a cognitive process

that need to be broken down by insight knowledge:

Compactness of continuity.................................................(santati ghana)

to break this down, you need to discern how a different consciousness,

and its associated mental factors, arises in each consciousness-moment throughout the cognitive process.

Compactness of group........................................................(samūha ghana)

to break this down, you need to discern each consciousness

and each of its associated mental factors in every consciousness-moment throughout the cognitive-process.

Compactness of function......................................................(kicca ghana)

to break this down, you need to discern the characteristic, function, manifestation and proximate cause of each consciousness and each of its associated mental factors.

Compactness of object....................................................(ārammaõa ghana)

to break this down, you need to discern the insight-knowledge cognitive-process that discerned the cognitive process you have just examined (the mind-door cognitive process of access concentration). This means the cognitive process that knew needs itself to be known by a subsequent cognitive process.

If you break down the four types of compactness of mentality this way, you will see only the rapid arising and passing-away of consciousnesses and their associated mental factors.

sofital SG

CAUSES OR ORIGINS
Of these eighty-two ultimate things Nibbana, inasmuch as it lies outside the scope of birth (Jati), does not not need any originator for its arising; neither does it need any cause for its maintenance since it also does not come within the range of decay and death (Jara-Marana). Hence Nibbana is unconditioned and unorganized. But, with the exception of Nibbana, the eighty-one phenomena, both mental and material, being within the spheres of birth, decay and death, are conditioned and organized things.

Among the four causes already dealt with in connection with the material qualities, Kamma is merely an originator and Citta (mind) is simply a stimulus. The physical body develops, stands, and is maintained by the power of the warmth element called Utu and by the power of the essence of nutriment. If the forces of the latter two come to an end, the forces of the former two also can no longer operate but cease simultaneously.

In the case of trees, for example, the seeds are only their origins. They grow, develop, and are maintained by means of the elements of earth and water. If these two principles fail them, the power of the seed also fails along with them. Here the physical body is like the tree; Kamma is like the seed; the warmth-element, or what is called Utu is like the earth; the nutritive essence is like the rain-water, which falls regularly at proper seasons; and mind is like the atmosphere and the heat of the sun, both of which give support from outside.

With regard to the causes of mind and mental properties, three things are needed for the arising of Resultants; a past kamma, a basis to depend upon, and an object. The first is like the seed of the tree, the basis is like the earth, and the object is like the rain- water.

Two things are necessary for the arising of each of the mental phenomena of the Morals, the Immorals and the Ineffectives, :- a basis to depend upon, and an object. However, to be more detailed, full rational exercise of mind (yonisomanasikara) is needed for the Morals, and defective irrational exercise of mind (ayoniso-manasikara) for the Immorals. The Ineffectiveness which have apperceptional functions have the same causes as the Morals. As for the two classes of consciousness called “Turning towards”, if they precede the Morals, they have the same causes as the Morals and if they precede the Immorals they have the same causes as the Immorals. Here yoniso-manasikara means proper exercise of reason, and ayoniso-manasikara means improper exercise of reason. These are the functions of the two classes of consciousness called Avajjana, “Turning towards.” On seeing a man, if the manasikara be rationally utilized, moral consciousness arises; and if the manasikara be irrationally utilized, immoral consciousness arises. There is no particular object which purely of itself will cause to arise only a moral consciousness, or only an immoral consciousness. The process of the mind may be compared to a boat of which the Avajjana-citta or “Turning-towards-thought” is the helmsman, so also the occurrence of the moral and the immoral consciousness lies entirely in the hands of Avajana.

What the seed is to the tree, that the Manasikara is to the Morals and the Immorals. What the earth is to a tree, that their “Basis” is to the Morals and Immorals. While what the rain-water is to a tree, that their “object” is to the Morals and Immorals.

We will now set forth the causes in another way.

Each of the six classes of consciousness has four causes. For the arising of the consciousness of sight there is needed Cakkhu-vatthu, Ruparammana, Aloka and Manasikara. Of these, Manasikara is the name of the Avajjana-citta which turns the process of mind in the direction of the object of sight. Aloka means light. Unless there is light, the function of seeing will not take place, nor the process of cognition. Cakkhu-vatthu means eye-basis; and Ruparammana means object of sight, literally, form-object.

For the arising of the consciousness of Sound, there is needed Sota-vatthu (ear-basis) Sadda-rammana (object of sound), Akasa and Manasikara. Here Akasa means the space through which sound is communicated to the ear. The function of hearing can take place only when it is present; the process of ear-door cognitions also occurs only when hearing takes place.

For the arising of the consciousness of smell, there is needed Ghana-vatthu (nose basis), Gandharammana (object of smell), Vata and Manasikara. Here Vata means the air in the nose or the inhaled air. If this is not present, odours cannot come into contact with the nose-basis, and consequently the function of smelling and the nose-door cognitions cannot take place.

For the arising of the consciousness of taste, there is needed Jivha-vatthu (tongue-basis), Rasarammana (object of taste), Apa and Manasakira. Here Apa means wetness of the tongue. If the tongue is dry, the savour or sapidity cannot come into contact with the tongue-basis, and consequently the function of tasting and the tongue-door cognitions cannot take place.

For the arising of the consciousness of touch, there is needed Kaya-vatthu (body basis), Photthabbarammana (object of touch), Thaddha and Manasikara. Here Thaddha means the quality of the object of touch, i.e., the degree of coarseness of it. Only a some- what coarse touch can make an impression upon the body-basis. If the object of touch is too subtle, it cannot impinge upon the body-basis. And unless there is impingement, neither consciousness of touch nor the body-door, cognitions can arise.

For the arising of the consciousness of mind, there is needed Hadaya-vatthu (heart-basis), Dhammarammana (object of thought) Manodvara (mind-door), and Manasikara. Of these, Dhammarammana means all objects comprising all material qualities other than the five-fold objects, all mental qualities, all ideas, and Nibbana. As a matter of fact, the five-fold objects (form, sound, smell, taste and touch) are also the objects of consciousness of mind, but in order to set forth what is not related to the five doors, or five senses, only thought-objects are mentioned here. Mano-dvara or mind-door means the continuum of sub-consciousness. Though the heart- basis is the place where consciousness of mind arises, since it does not possess the appropriate kind of sensuous organs, the impressions of objects cannot appear in it, hence they have to appear in the mind-door only.