Samma Samādhi – Detachment from practice | Venerable Ajahn Chah

Let's look at the Buddha's example. He was exemplary both in his own practice and in the methods he used to teach the disciples. The Buddha taught the foundations of practice as useful methods for getting rid of pride. He could not practice for us, and having heard such teachings we must now continue to practice and teach ourselves. Only in this way will the results emerge, and not by merely listening to the teaching.

The Buddha's teaching can only give us an initial understanding of the Dhamma, but it cannot make the Dhamma stay in our hearts. And why not? Because we haven't practiced yet, we haven't taught ourselves yet. The Dhamma emerges with practice. If you know it, it's through practice. If they doubt the Dhamma, they doubt the practice. The teachings of the masters may be true, but hearing the Dhamma alone is not enough to be able to accomplish it. The teaching only gives us the direction to take. To realize the Dhamma we must grasp the teaching and bring it into our hearts. The part that is for the body, we apply to the body, the part that is for speech we apply to speech, and the part that is for the mind we apply to the mind. This means that after listening to the teaching we must teach ourselves to recognize the Dhamma as such.

The Buddha said that those who simply believe in others are not truly wise. A wise person practices until he becomes one with the Dhamma, until he has confidence in himself, independently of others.

On one occasion, when Venerable Sariputta was sitting at the feet of the Buddha, listening respectfully to him as he proclaimed the Dhamma, the Buddha turned to him and asked him “Sariputta, do you believe this teaching?” to which Venerable Sariputta replied “No, I do not believe this teaching”.

Now, this is a good illustration: Venerable Sariputta heard and recorded and when he said he still did not believe he was not being insolent, he told the truth. He only considered that teaching, but because he had not yet developed his own understanding of it, he told the Buddha that he did not yet believe the teaching because that was the truth. These words almost resonate as if Venerable Sariputta were rude, but in fact he wasn't. He told the truth and the Buddha praised him for it: “Very well, very well, Sariputta. A wise person does not believe immediately, he should first investigate in order to believe.

Belief in a belief can take many forms. One of these forms is in accord with the Dhamma, while the others are not, and the latter are irresponsible. is the blind belief of fools, incorrect understanding, micchādițțhi, incorrect understanding. We don't listen to anyone else here.

Take the example of Brahmin Dighanakkha. He believed only in himself and no one else. At one point, when the Buddha was resting in Rajagaha, Dighanakkha went to hear his teachings, or we can say that Dighanakkha went to teach the Buddha because he intended to expose his own views.

“I am of the opinion that nothing pleases me, nothing fills me”.

That was your opinion. The Buddha heard and then replied: “Brahmin, this opinion of yours does not fill you either”.

When the Buddha answered in this way Dighankka was astonished, he did not know what to say. The Buddha explained in many ways until Brahmin understood. He paused to reflect and realized … “Uhmm, this perception of me is not right”.

Upon hearing the Buddha's answer, Brahmin abandoned his presumptuous opinions and immediately realized the truth. He transformed himself at that very moment, turning around, just like someone with his palm facing down, turning it up. He praised the Buddha's teaching as follows:

“On hearing the teachings of the Blessed One, my mind was enlightened, as one who lives in darkness and perceives the light. It is as if my mind were an inverted chalice that has been turned upwards, just as when a man who, having been lost, finds his way.

At that time a certain knowledge arose from within your mind, from within that mind that was correctly placed in its vertical position. The misperception has vanished and the right one has taken its place. The darkness disappeared and the light appeared.

The Buddha stated that Brahmin Dighanakkha was someone who opened the “Eye of the Dhamma”. At first Dighanakkha was clinging to his own opinions and had no intention of changing them. But when he heard the Buddha's teaching his mind saw the truth, he saw that clinging to those perceptions was incorrect. When right understanding arose, he was able to discern his previous understanding as erroneous, hence comparing his experience with a person who lived in the dark and found the light. That's the way it is. At that moment Brahmin Dighanakkha transcended his incorrect understanding.

We must transform in this way. Before we abandon our flaws, we must change our perspective. We must begin to practice correctly and well. Even if at some point we didn't practice correctly or well, we still thought we were right and that we were good.

When we really get to the bottom of this issue, we 'straighten up', just like turning a hand up. This means that “He who knows”, or wisdom, arises in the mind who is then able to see things in a new way. A new kind of consciousness emerges.

Practitioners should therefore train to develop this knowledge (which we call Buddho, “He Who Knows”) in their minds. Originally ‘He Who Knows’ is not there, our knowledge is not clear, true or complete. This knowledge is therefore too weak for us to train the mind. But then the mind changes, or reverses itself, as a result of this consciousness, called wisdom or attainment, which exceeds the antecedent conscious state. The former “one who knows” did not really know yet and was therefore incapable of leading us to our goal.

Thus the Buddha taught us to observe within, opanayiko. Look inward, not outward. Or, if we look outward, we must also look inward, to observe the cause and effect there. Seek truth in everything, because external and internal objects always influence each other. Our task is to develop a certain kind of consciousness until it becomes stronger than the previous state of consciousness. This causes wisdom and fulfillment to arise within the mind, making us able to clearly recognize the mind's ways of functioning, its language, and the forms and means of all our defects.

The Buddha, when he first left his home to seek liberation, was probably not as sure of what to do as we are. He tried, through many practices, to develop his wisdom. He sought teachers, such as Udaka Ramaputta, to practice meditation, … sitting with his right leg on top of the left, the right hand on the left… the body aligned … closed eyes… opening hand of everything… until he was able to achieve a high level of absorption, or samadhi (1). But when he came out of theseamādhi his old way of thinking arose and he realized that he would cling to it again as before. Seeing this, he realized that wisdom had not yet arisen. His understanding had not yet realized the truth, it was still incomplete, something was still missing. Anyway, seeing this, he gained some understanding – that this was not yet the summit of practice – but left that place to go and find a new teacher.

When the Buddha left his former teacher, he did not condemn him. He did just like the bee that takes nectar from a flower without damaging the petals.

The Buddha then proceeded and went to study with Alara Kalama and reached an even higher state of samādhi, but when he left that state, Bimba and Rahula (2) came back to his thoughts, as well as old memories and feelings. I still had lust and desire. Reflecting inwardly he saw that he had not yet reached his goal and therefore he also left this teacher. He listened to his teachers and did his best to follow their teachings. He continually investigated the results of his practice, it was not a matter of simply doing things and then discarding them to do others.

Even with regard to ascetic practices, after having experienced them, he realized that starvation until we are just skin and bone is something that only concerns the body. The body knows nothing. Practicing that way was almost like executing an innocent person by ignoring the real thief.

When the Buddha actually looked at this he saw that the practice is not something that concerns the body but the mind.Attakilamathanuyogo self-mortification – the Buddha had experienced it and realized that it was limited to the body. In fact, all Buddhas are enlightened in the mind.

When we consider the body or the mind, we can put both in the same bag, in the bag of the Transitory, Imperfect and Non-self – aniccam, dukkham, anatta. They are simple conditions of Nature, arise depending on supporting factors, exist for a period of time and then cease. When appropriate conditions exist, they arise again, exist for a period of time, and then cease again. These things are not a 'me', a 'being', a 'we' or a 'them'. There is no one in these things, just sensations. Happiness does not have an intrinsic "I", suffering does not have an intrinsic "I". No "I" can be found, they are simple elements of nature that arise, exist and cease, going through this constant cycle of change.

All beings, including humans, tend to identify with arising, existing, and ceasing. They cling to everything. They don't want things to be the way they are and they don't want things to be any other way. For example, having arisen, (they) do not want things to end; Having experienced happiness, they do not want suffering. If suffering arises, they want it to cease as soon as possible and it would be even better if it did not arise at all. This is so because they see this body and this mind as being themselves, or as belonging to them and therefore demand that these things follow their wills.

This kind of reasoning is like building a dam or dam without building a passageway to let water flow. The result is that the dam bursts. The same goes for this kind of reasoning. The Buddha saw that thinking this way is the cause of suffering. Seeing the cause, the Buddha abandoned it.

This is the Noble Truth of the Origin of Suffering. The Truths of Suffering, of its Origin, of its Cessation, and of the Path that leads to this Cessation. If people have to overcome their doubts, this is precisely where they will do it. Seeing that things are simply rūpa and nāma, or corporeality and mentality, it becomes obvious that they are not a being, a person, a ‘we’ or a ‘them’. They simply follow the laws of nature.

Our practice is to know things this way. We don't really have the power to control them, we don't own them. Trying to control them brings suffering, because in reality they are not ours so that we can control them. The body and mind are not ourselves or others. If we know this reality we can see clearly. We see the truth, we are one with it. It's like seeing a piece of hot red iron that's been heated in the furnace. He's all hot. Whether we touch them up, down or sideways, it's always hot. No matter where we touch it, it's hot. This is how we should see things.

When we start practicing, we basically want to get or achieve something, know and see, but we still don't know what it is we're going to achieve or know. There was a disciple of mine whose practice was fraught with doubt and confusion. But he continued to practice and I continued to instruct him until he began to find some peace. But when he eventually got a little calmer, he would get up and ask “What do I do next?” Ready! The confusion arose again. He said he wanted peace but when he reached it he didn't want it and asked what to do next.

In this practice we must do everything with detachment. How do we detach ourselves? We let go when we see things clearly. Know the characteristics of the body and mind as they are. We meditate to find peace, but in doing so we see that which is not peaceful. This is because the nature of the mind is movement.

When we practice samādhi we place our attention on the inspirations and the exhalations on the tip of the nose or on the upper lip. This raising of the mind to concentration is called vitakka or “raising”. When we have then the mind elevated and fixed on an object, this is called vicāra, the contemplation of the breath at the tip of the nose. This quality of vicāra will naturally mix with other mental sensations and we may think that our mind is not calm and that it will not calm down, but in fact this is simply the works of vicāra as it intertwines with these sensations. Of course, if this goes too far in the wrong direction, our mind will lose its concentration and then we must redirect the mind, refresh it, raise it to the object of concentration through dovitakka. Once we have established our attention vicāra predominates, mingling with the various mental sensations.

When we see this happening our lack of understanding may lead us to ask “Why did my mind wander? I want her to stay calm, why doesn’t she stay calm?’ This is practicing with attachment.

Actually the mind is just following its nature, but we add something to that activity because we want the mind to be calm. Aversion arises and we still add it to everything else, increasing our doubts, increasing our suffering or increasing our confusion. Therefore, if there is vicāra, reflecting on the various events taking place within the mind, we should wisely reflect … “Ah, the mind is just like that”. Here it is, that is “He Who Knows” talking, telling us to see things as they are. The mind is just like that. We give in to it and then the mind is peaceful. When it is no longer centered we bring back vitakka and soon there will be calm again. Vitakka and vicāra work in this way together. We use vicāra to contemplate the various sensations that arise. When vicara gradually becomes more dispersed we bring our attention again through vitakka.

Here the important point is that at this point our practice should be carried out with detachment. By seeing the process of vicāra interacting with mental sensations we can judge that the mind is confused and become averse to this process. Here's the cause. We are not happy because we want the mind to be calm. This is the cause – wrong perspective. If we correct our perspective just a little, observing this activity as just the nature of the mind, this alone is enough to calm the confusion. This is called detachment.

If we do not cling, if we practice with detachment… detachment within practice and practice within detachment, if we learn to practice in this way, then vicāra will naturally have less to work with. If our mind ceases to be disturbed, then we will see the Dhamma, for if we do not, the mind will be distracted again.

So there is vitakka followed by vicāra, vitakka followed by vicāra, vitakka followed by vicāra, continuously until vicāra gradually becomes more subtle. In the vicāra principle it encompasses all of our mental perception. When we realize that this is just the natural activity of the mind, it won't bother us unless we cling. It's like a stream of water in a river. If we become obsessed, asking ‘why does it run?’, then we will naturally suffer. If we understand that water simply flows because that is its nature then there will be no suffering. Vicāra is like that. There is vitakka followed by vicāra, interacting with mental sensations. We can use these sensations as an object of meditation, calming the mind by observing these sensations.

If in this way we know the nature of the mind then we detach ourselves, just as we let the water flow. Vicāra becomes more and more subtle. Perhaps the mind tends to contemplate the body, or death, for example, or some other theme of the Dhamma. When the theme of contemplation is present, a sense of well-being arises. What is this well-being? It is pīti (ecstasy). Pīti, well-being, arises. It can appear as chills (“chicken skin”), a feeling of freshness or lightness. The mind is ecstatic. This is called pīti. There is also pleasure (sukha), the coming and going of various sensations, and the state of ekaggatārammana (the mind is focused in one direction or one point; the opposite of dispersed).

If we speak in terms of the first stage of concentration, we have: vitakka, vicāra, pīti, sukha, ekaggatā. So what's the second stage like? As the mind becomes progressively more subtle, vitakka and vicāra become comparatively denser and thus discarded, leaving only pīti, sukha and ekaggatā. This is something the mind does for itself, we don't have to conjecture about it, just know things as they are.

When the mind becomes more refined, pīti will eventually be discarded, leaving only sukha and ekaggatā, and we will realize this. Where did pīti go? It was nowhere, what happens is that the mind gradually becomes more subtle and so discards those qualities that are too dense for it. Everything that is too dense is discarded until it reaches the point of subtlety, known in the books as Fourth Jhāna, the highest level of absorption. Here the mind has progressively discarded everything that has become too dense for it until it remains only ekaggatā and upekkhā, equanimity. There is nothing else but this, this is the limit.

When the mind is developing the stages of samādhi it should proceed in this way, but please understand the basics of the practice. We want to calm the mind but it won't be calm. This is practicing out of desire, but we don't realize it. We wish you calm. The mind is always disturbed and we are even more disturbed because we want it to be calm. This same desire is the cause. We do not see that this wanting the mind to calm down is tanha (craving). We just add to the burden. The more we desire calm, the more disturbed the mind stays, until we give up. We end up fighting all the time, sitting around with ourselves. Why? Because we don't reflect on how we predisposed the mind. Know the conditions of the mind for what they are. Whatever comes up, just watch. It is purely the nature of the mind, it is not harmful unless we do not understand it. It's not dangerous if you look at its activity for what it is. Then we practice with vitakka and vicāra until the mind begins to calm down and become more docile. When sensations arise, we observe them and begin to know them.

However, we usually tend to struggle with them because from the beginning we are determined to calm the mind. As soon as we sit our thoughts come to distress us. As soon as we designate our object of meditation our attention wanders through all thoughts, thinking that these thoughts have come to disturb us. But in fact the problem immediately arises there, of that very will.

If you see that the mind is only behaving according to its nature, that thoughts naturally come and go in this way, do not focus too much on it. We can understand the ways of the mind (so) how we understand a child/childrenChildren say all kinds of things, they don't know how to do better. If we understand them, we simply let them speak because they naturally speak that way. When we give up, there is no obsession with the child. We can talk to our guests undisturbed, while the child chatters and plays around us. The mind is like that. It's not harmful unless we cling to it and become obsessed. That's the real cause of the plots.

When pīti arises we feel an indescribable pleasure, which only those who experience can appreciate. Sukha (pleasure) arises, and there is also this quality of focus at one point. Vitakka, vicāra, pīti, sukha and ekaggatā occur. All these five qualities converge to one point. Although they are different qualities they are all gathered in one place, and we can observe them all there, as when we see different types of fruit in the same bowl. Vitakka, vicāra, pīti, sukha and ekaggatā, we can see them all in the mind, all these five qualities. If someone were to ask ‘How is vitakka there, how is vicāra there, how are lapīti and sukha?’, it would be difficult to answer. But when they converge in the mind, we can see what it is like for ourselves.

At this point our practice becomes somewhat special. We must have internalization and self-awareness and not get lost. Know things for what they are. These are stages of meditation, the potential of the mind. Do not doubt anything about the practice. Even if they sink to earth or fly through the air, or even “die” while sitting, do not doubt it. Whatever the qualities of the mind, stay by the knowledge of these (do not proliferate). This is our foundation: have sati, esampajanna interiorization, self-awareness, whether we are standing, walking, sitting or lying down. Whatever comes up, let it be, don't hold on to it. Whether pleasant or unpleasant, happiness or suffering, doubt or certainty, contemplate with vicāra and check the results of these qualities. Don't try to label everything, just acknowledge it. Realize that all things that arise in the mind are simple sensations. They are transient. They arise, exist and cease. That's all they are, they don't have an 'I' or a being, they're not 'us' or 'them'. There's no point holding onto any of them.

When we see the whole rūpa and nāma (3) in this way, wisely, then we see the archetypes. We perceive the transience of the mind, the transience of the body, the transience of happiness, suffering, love and hatred. They are all impermanent. When you look at it, your mind gets tired. tired of the body and of itself, tired of things that arise and cease and that are transient. When the mind is “disenchanted” it looks for a way to let go of all these things. He no longer wants to be attached to things, he realizes the lack of nexus of this world and the lack of nexus of birth.

When the mind sees like this, wherever we go, we see aniccam (Transitionality), dukkham (Imperfection) and anatta (Not-self). There's nothing left to hold onto. Whether we sit under a tree, on a mountaintop or in a valley, we can hear the Buddha's teaching. All trees will look like one, all beings will be One, there will be nothing special about any of them in particular. They arise, exist for a period, age and die, all of them.

We then see the world more clearly by seeing this body and mind more clearly. They become clearer in the light of Transience, in the light of Imperfection and in the light of the "No-I". If people hold fast to things, they suffer. This is how suffering arises. If we see that the body and mind are simply as they are, no suffering arises, because we do not immediately cling to them. Everywhere we have wisdom. Even by observing a tree we can observe it in the light of wisdom. Looking at the grass and the various insects becomes food for reflection. When it gets to this point it all goes into the same bag. It's all Dhamma.Everything is invariably transient. This is the truth, this is the true Dhamma, this is a certainty. How can it be certain? It is a certainty in the sense that the world is like this and can never be otherwise. There's nothing more to him than this. If we can see this then we end our journey.

In Buddhism, as far as viewpoints are concerned, it is said that to think that we are more foolish than others is not right; To think that we are the same as others is not right. and think that we are better than others, is not right… because there is no "we". That's how things are, we have to uproot the concepts. This is called lokavidū – knowing the world clearly as it is. If we then see the truth, the mind will undoubtedly recognize it and reap the cause of suffering. When there is no longer a cause, there can be no consequence. This is how our practice should continue.

The foundations we need to develop are: first, be honest and sincere; second, to be aware that we are wrong; third, to have the attribute of humility within our heart, to be frugal and to be content with little. If we live contentedly speaking little and in all other things, we shall see ourselves, we shall not be carried away by distractions. The mind will have a foundation of sila, samādhi and paññā.

Therefore those who cultivate the way should not be careless. Even if they are correct, do not be careless. And if you're wrong, don't be careless. If things are going well and you feel happy, don't be careless. Because I say ‘don’t be careless?’ Because all things are uncertain. Have them as such. If you're feeling peace, let peace happen. You may really wish to continue enjoying it, but you must know its nature; The same applies to unpleasant qualities.

The cultivation of mental practice belongs to each individual. The teacher only explains how to train the mind because it is unique in each individual. We know what is there, no one can know our mind as well as we do. Practice requires this kind of honesty. Do it diligently, not half-gas. When I say “diligently” does that mean that you should be exhausted? No, they don't have to exhaust themselves because the practice is done in the mind. If you know this then you will know what the practice is. They don't need much. Use only the foundations of practice to inwardly reflect upon yourself.

Right now we're in the middle of the Rain Retreat. For most people it is normal to let the practice derail after some time. They are not consistent from beginning to end. This shows that their practice is not yet mature. Having determined a given practice at the beginning of the retreat, whatever it may be, we must carry this resolution to the end. During these three months practice consistently. They should try. Whatever you have determined as practice, take that into account and see if the practice is weakening. If so, make an effort to restore it. Continue to refresh the practice, such as when we practice concentration on breathing. As the breath is given, outside and inside, the mind is distracted. Then re-establish attention in the breath. When your attention wanders again bring it back once more. This is the same. As far as both the body and the mind are concerned, practice continues in this way. Please make an effort in this direction.

Notes:

1. The level of nothingness, one of the “formless absorptions”, sometimes called the seventh jhāna or absorption.
2. Bimba, or Princess Yasodhara, the Buddha's ex-wife; Rahula, your son.
3. Rūpa: material or physical objects; nāma: immaterial or mental objects. The physical and mental constituents of being.

Translation of Appamado Bhikkhu