                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                SENSE CONTACT -- THE FOUNT OF WISDOM
    
    
 All of us have made up our minds to become //bhikkhus// and 
 //samaneras// [*] in the Buddhist Dispensation in order to find 
 peace. Now what is true peace? True peace, the Buddha said, is not 
 very far away, it lies right here within us, but we tend to 
 continually overlook it. People have their ideas about finding peace 
 but still tend to experience confusion and agitation, they still 
 tend to be unsure and haven't yet found fulfillment in their 
 practice. They haven't yet reached the goal. It's as if we have left 
 our home to travel to many different places. Whether we get into a 
 car or board a boat, no matter where we go, we still haven't reached 
 our home. As long as we still haven't reached home we don't feel 
 content, we still have some unfinished business to take care of. 
 This is because our journey is not yet finished, we haven't reached 
 our destination. We travel all over the place in search of 
 liberation.
 
 * [Novices.]
 
 
    All of you //bhikkhus// and //samaneras// here want peace, every 
 one of you. Even myself, when I was younger, searched all over for 
 peace. Wherever I went I couldn't be satisfied. Going into forests 
 or visiting various teachers, listening to Dhamma talks, I could 
 find no satisfaction. Why is this?
    
    We look for peace in peaceful places, where there won't be 
 sights, or sounds, or odors, or flavors...thinking that living 
 quietly like this is the way to find contentment, that herein lies 
 peace.
    
    But actually, if we live very quietly in places where nothing 
 arises, can wisdom arise? Would we be aware of anything? Think about 
 it. If our eye didn't see sights, what would that be like? If the 
 nose didn't experience smells, what would that be like? If the 
 tongue didn't experience flavors what would that be like? If the 
 body didn't experience feelings at all, what would that be like? To 
 be like that would be like being a blind and deaf man, one whose 
 nose and tongue had fallen off and who was completely numb with 
 paralysis. Would there be anything there? And yet people tend to 
 think that if they went somewhere where nothing happened they would 
 find peace. Well, I've thought like that myself, I once thought that 
 way...
    
    When I was a young monk just starting to practice, I'd sit in 
 meditation and sounds would disturb me, I'd think to myself, "What 
 can I do to make my mind peaceful?" So I took some beeswax and 
 stuffed my ears with it so that I couldn't hear anything. All that 
 remained was a humming sound. I thought that would be peaceful, but 
 no, all that thinking and confusion didn't arise at the ears after 
 all. It arose at the mind. That is the place to search for peace.
    
    To put it another way, no matter where you go to stay, you don't 
 want to do anything because it interferes with your practice. You 
 don't want to sweep the grounds or do any work, you just want to be 
 still and find peace that way. The teacher asks you to help out with 
 the chores or any of the daily duties but you don't put your heart 
 into it because you feel it is only an external concern.
    
    I've often brought up the example of one of my disciples who was 
 really eager to "let go" and find peace. I taught about "letting go" 
 and he accordingly understood that to let go of everything would 
 indeed be peaceful. Actually right from the day he had come to stay 
 here he didn't want to do anything. Even when the wind blew half the 
 roof off his //kuti// he wasn't interested. He said that that was 
 just an external thing. So he didn't bother fixing it up. When the 
 sunlight and rain streamed in from one side he'd move over to the 
 other side. That wasn't any business of his. His business was to 
 make his mind peaceful. That other stuff was a distraction, he 
 wouldn't get involved. That was how he saw it.
    
    One day I was walking past and saw the collapsed roof.
    
    "Eh? Whose //kuti// is this?"
    
    Someone told me whose it was, and I thought, "Hmm. Strange..." So 
 I had a talk with him, explaining many things, such as the duties in 
 regard to our dwellings, the //senasanavatta//. "We must have a 
 dwelling place, and we must look after it. "Letting go" isn't like 
 this, it doesn't mean shirking our responsibilities. That's the 
 action of a fool. The rain comes in on one side so you move over to 
 the other side, then the sunshine comes out and you move back to 
 that side. Why is that? Why don't you bother to let go there?" I 
 gave him a long discourse on this; then when I'd finished, he said,
    
    "Oh, Luang Por, sometimes you teach me to cling and sometimes you 
 teach me to let go. I don't know what you want me to do. Even when 
 my roof collapses and I let go to this extent, still you say it's 
 not right. And yet you teach me to let go! I don't know what more 
 you can expect of me..."
    
    You see? People are like this. They can be as stupid as this.
    
    Are there visual objects within the eye? If there are no external 
 visual objects would our eyes see anything? Are their sounds within 
 our ears if external sounds don't make contact? If there are no 
 smells outside would we experience them. Where are the causes? Think 
 about what the Buddha said: All //dhammas// [*] arise because of 
 causes. If we didn't have ears would we experience sounds? If we had 
 no eyes would we be able to see sights? Eyes, ears, nose, tongue, 
 body and mind -- these are the causes. It is said that all 
 //dhammas// arise because of conditions, when they cease it's 
 because the causal conditions have ceased. For resulting conditions 
 to arise, the causal conditions must first arise.
 
 * [The word //dhamma// can be used in different ways. In this talk, 
 the Venerable Ajahn refers to //Dhamma// -- the teachings of the 
 Buddha; to //dhammas// -- "things"; and to //Dhamma// -- the 
 experience of transcendent "Truth".]
 
 
    If we think that peace lies where there are no sensations would 
 wisdom arise? Would there be causal and resultant conditions? Would 
 we have anything to practice with? If we blame the sounds, then 
 where there are sounds we can't be peaceful. We think that place is 
 no good. Wherever there are sights we say that's not peaceful. If 
 that's the case then to find peace we'd have to be one whose senses 
 have all died, blind, and deaf. I thought about this...
    
    "Hmm. This is strange. Suffering arises because of eyes, ears, 
 nose, tongue, body and mind. So should we be blind? If we didn't see 
 anything at all maybe that would be better. One would have no 
 defilements arising if one were blind, or deaf. Is this the way it 
 is?"...
    
    But, thinking about it, it wall all wrong. If that was the case 
 then blind and deaf people would be enlightened. They would all be 
 accomplished if defilements arose at the eyes and ears. There are 
 the causal conditions. Where things arise, at the cause, that's 
 where we must stop them. Where the cause arises, that's where we 
 must contemplate.
    
    Actually, the sense bases of the eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, 
 and mind are all things which can facilitate the arising of wisdom, 
 if we know them as they are. If we don't really know them we must 
 deny them, saying we don't want to see sights, hear sounds, and so 
 on, because they disturb us. If we cut off the causal conditions 
 what are we going to contemplate? Think about it. Where would there 
 be any cause and effect? This is wrong thinking on our part.
    
    This is why we are taught to be restrained. Restraint is 
 //sila//. There is the //sila// of sense restraint: eyes, ears, 
 nose, tongue, body and mind: these are our //sila//, and they are 
 our //samadhi//. Reflect on the story Sariputta. At the time before 
 he became a //bhikkhu// he saw Assaji Thera going on almsround. 
 Seeing him, Sariputta thought,
    
    "This monk is most unusual. He walks neither too fast nor too 
 slow, his robes are neatly worn, his bearing is restrained." 
 Sariputta was inspired by him and so approached Venerable Assaji, 
 paid his respects and asked him,
    
    "Excuse me, sir, who are you?"
    
    "I am a //samana//."
    
    "Who is your teacher?"
    
    "Venerable Gotama is my teacher."
    
    "What does Venerable Gotama teach?"
    
    "He teaches that all things arise because of conditions. 
    
    When they cease it's because the causal conditions have ceased."
    
    When asked about the Dhamma by Sariputta, Assaji explained only 
 in brief, he talked about cause and effect. Dhammas arise because of 
 causes. The cause arises first and then the result. When the result 
 is to cease the cause must first cease. That's all he said, but it 
 was enough for Sariputta. [*]
 
 * [At that time Sariputta had his first insight into the Dhamma, 
 attaining //sotapanna//, or "stream-entry".]
 
    
    Now this was a cause for the arising of Dhamma. At that time 
 Sariputta had eyes, he had ears, he had a nose, a tongue, a body and 
 a mind. All his faculties were intact. If he didn't have his 
 faculties would there have been sufficient causes for wisdom to 
 arise for him? Would he have been aware of anything? But most of us 
 are afraid of contact. Either that or we like to have contact but we 
 develop no wisdom from it: instead we repeatedly indulge through 
 eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body and mind, delighting in and getting 
 lost in sense objects. This is how it is. These sense bases can 
 entice us into delight and indulgence or they can lead to knowledge 
 and wisdom.
    
    They have both harm and benefit, depending on our wisdom.
    
    So now let us understand that, having gone forth and come to 
 practice, we should take everything as practice. Even the bad 
 things. We should know them all. Why? So that we may know the truth. 
 When we talk of practice we don't simply mean those things that are 
 good and pleasing to us. That's not how it is. In this world some 
 things are to our liking, some are not. These things all exist in 
 this world, nowhere else. Usually whatever we like we want, even 
 with fellow monks and novices. Whatever monk or novice we don't like 
 we don't want to associate with, we only want to be with those we 
 like. You see? This is choosing according to our likes. Whatever we 
 don't like we don't want to see or know about.
    
    Actually the Buddha wanted us to experience these things. 
 //Lokavidu// -- look at this world and know it clearly. If we don't 
 know the truth of the world clearly then we can't go anywhere. 
 Living in the world we must understand the world. The Noble Ones of 
 the past, including the Buddha, all lived with these things, they 
 lived in this world, among deluded people. They attained the truth 
 right in this very world, nowhere else. They didn't run off to some 
 other world to find the truth. But they had wisdom. They restrained 
 their senses, but the practice is to look into all these things and 
 know them as they are.
    
    Therefore the Buddha taught us to know the sense bases, our 
 points of contact. The eye contacts forms and sends them "in" to 
 become sights. The ears make contact with sounds, the nose makes 
 contact with odors, the tongue makes contact with tastes, the body 
 makes contact with tactile sensations, and so awareness arises. 
 Where awareness arises is where we should look and see things as 
 they are. If we don;t know these things as they really are we will 
 either fall in love with them or hate them. Where these sensations 
 arise is where we can become enlightened, where wisdom can arise.
    
    But sometimes we don't want things to be like that. The Buddha 
 taught restraint, but restraint doesn't mean we don't see anything, 
 hear anything, smell, taste, feel or think anything. That's not what 
 it means. If practicers don't understand this then as soon as they 
 see or hear anything they cower and run away. They don't deal with 
 things. They run away, thinking that by so doing those things will 
 eventually lose their power over them, that they will eventually 
 transcend them. But they won't. They won't transcend anything like 
 that. If they run away not knowing the truth of them, later on the 
 same stuff will pop up to be dealt with again.
    
    For example, those practicers who are never content, be they in 
 monasteries, forests, or mountains. They wander on "//dhutanga// 
 pilgrimage" looking at this, that and the other, thinking they'll 
 find contentment that way. They go, and then they come back...didn't 
 see anything. They try going to a mountain top..."Ah! This is the 
 spot, now I'm right." They feel at peace for a few days and then get 
 tired of it. "Oh, well, off to the seaside." "Ah, here it's nice and 
 cool. This'll do me fine." After a while they get tired of the 
 seaside as well...Tired of the forests, tired of the mountains, 
 tired of the seaside, tired of everything. This is not being tired 
 of things in the right sense, [*] as Right View, it's simply 
 boredom, a kind of Wrong View. Their view is not in accordance with 
 the way things are.
 
 * [That is, //nibbida//, disinterest in the lures of the sensual 
 world.]
 
 
    When they get back to the monastery..."Now, what will I do? I've 
 been all over and come back with nothing." So they throw away their 
 bowls and disrobe. Why do they disrobe? Because they haven't got any 
 grip on the practice, they don't see anything; go to the north and 
 don't see anything; go to the seaside, to the mountains, into the 
 forests and still don't see anything. So it's all finished...they 
 "die." This is how it goes. It's because they're continually running 
 away from things. Wisdom doesn't arise.
    
    Now take another example. Suppose there is one monk who 
 determines to stay with things, not to run away. He looks after 
 himself. He knows himself and also knows those who come to stay with 
 him. He's continually dealing with problems. For example, the Abbot. 
 If one is an Abbot of a monastery there are constant problems to 
 deal with, there's a constant stream of things that demand 
 attention. Why so? Because people are always asking questions. The 
 questions never end, so you must be constantly on the alert. You are 
 constantly solving problems, your own as well as other people's. 
 That is, you must be constantly awake. Before you can doze off they 
 wake you up again with another problem. So this causes you to 
 contemplate and understand things. You become skillful: skillful in 
 regard to yourself and skillful in regard to others. Skillful in 
 many, many ways.
    
    This skill arises from contact, from confronting and dealing with 
 things, from not running away. We don't run away physically but we 
 "run away" in mind, using our wisdom. We understand with wisdom 
 right here, we don't run away from anything.
    
    This is a source of wisdom. One must work, must associate with 
 other things. For instance, living in a big monastery like this we 
 must all help out to look after the things here. Looking at it in 
 one way you could say that it's all defilement. Living with lots of 
 monks and novices, with many laypeople coming and going, many 
 defilements may arise. Yes, I admit...but we must live like this for 
 the development of wisdom and the abandonment of foolishness. Which 
 way are we to go? Are we going to live in order to get rid of 
 foolishness or to increase our foolishness?
    
    We must contemplate. Whenever eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body or 
 mind make contact we should be collected and circumspect. When 
 suffering arises, who is suffering? Why did this suffering arise? 
 The Abbot of a monastery has to supervise many disciples. Now that 
 may be suffering. We must know suffering when it arises. Know 
 suffering. If we are afraid of suffering and don't want to face it, 
 where are we going to do battle with it? If suffering arises and we 
 don't know it, how are we going to deal with it? This is of utmost 
 importance -- we must know suffering.
    
    Escaping from suffering means knowing the way out of suffering, 
 it doesn't mean running away from wherever suffering arises. By 
 doing that you just carry your suffering with you. When suffering 
 arises again somewhere else you'll have to run away again. This is 
 not transcending suffering, it's not knowing suffering.
    
    If you want to understand suffering you must look into the 
 situation at hand. The teachings say that wherever a problem arises 
 it must be settled right there. Where suffering lies is right where 
 non-suffering will arise, it ceases at the place where it arises. If 
 suffering arises you must contemplate right there, you don't have to 
 run away. You should settle the issue right there. One who runs away 
 from suffering out of fear is the most foolish person of all. He 
 will simply increases his stupidity endlessly.
    
    We must understand: suffering is none other than the First Noble 
 Truth, isn't that so? Are you going to look on it as something bad? 
 //Dukkha sacca, samudaya sacca, nirodha sacca, magga sacca//... [*] 
 Running away from these things isn't practicing according to the 
 true Dhamma. When will you ever see the Truth of Suffering? If we 
 keep running away from suffering we will never know it. Suffering is 
 something we should recognize -- if you don't observe it when will 
 you ever recognize it? Not being content here you run over there, 
 when discontent arises there you run off again. You are always 
 running. If that's the way you practice you'll be racing with the 
 Devil all over the country!
 
 * [The Truth of Suffering, the Truth of its Cause, the Truth of its 
 Cessation and the Truth of the Way (leading to the cessation of 
 suffering): The Four Noble Truths.]
 
    
    The Buddha taught us to "run away" using wisdom. For instance: 
 suppose you had stepped on a thorn or splinter and it got embedded 
 in your foot. As you walk it occasionally hurts, occasionally not. 
 Sometimes you may step on a stone or a stump and it really hurts, so 
 you feel around your foot. But not finding anything you shrug it off 
 and walk on a bit more. Eventually you step on something else, and 
 the pain arises again.
    
    Now this happens many times. What is the cause of that pain? The 
 cause is that splinter or thorn embedded in your foot. The pain is 
 constantly near. Whenever the pain arises you may take a look and 
 feel around a bit, but, not seeing the splinter, you let it go. 
 After a while it hurts again so you take another look.
    
    When suffering arises you must note it, don't just shrug it off. 
 Whenever the pain arises..."Hmm...that splinter is still there." 
 Whenever the pain arises there arises also the thought that that 
 splinter has got to go. If you don't take it out there will only be 
 more pain later on. The pain keeps recurring again and again, until 
 the desire to take out that thorn is constantly with you. In the end 
 it reaches a point where you make up your mind once and for all to 
 get out that thorn -- because it hurts!
    
    Now our effort in the practice must be like this. Wherever it 
 hurts, wherever there's friction, we must investigate. Confront the 
 problem, head on. Take that thorn out of your foot, just pull it 
 out. Wherever your mind gets stuck you must take note. As you look 
 into it you will know it, see it and experience it as it is.
    
    But our practice must be unwavering and persistent. They call it 
 //viriyarambha// -- putting forth constant effort. Whenever an 
 unpleasant feeling arises in your foot, for example, you must remind 
 yourself to get out that thorn, don't give up your resolve. 
 Likewise, when suffering arises in our hearts we must have the 
 unwavering resolve to try to uproot the defilements, to give them 
 up. This resolve is constantly there, unremitting. Eventually the 
 defilements will fall into our hands where we can finish them off.
    
    So in regard to happiness and suffering, what are we to do? If we 
 didn't have these things what could we use as a cause to precipitate 
 wisdom? If there is no cause how will the effect arise? All dhammas 
 arise because of causes. When the result ceases it's because the 
 cause has ceased. This is how it is, but most of us don't really 
 understand. People only want to run away from suffering. This sort 
 of knowledge is short of the mark. Actually we need to know this 
 very world that we are living in, we don't have to run away 
 anywhere. You should have the attitude that to stay is fine...and to 
 go is fine. Think about this carefully.
    
    Where do happiness and suffering lie? Whatever we don't hold fast 
 to, cling to or fix on to, as if it weren't there. Suffering doesn't 
 arise. Suffering arises from existence (//bhava//). If there is 
 existence then there is birth. //Upadana// -- clinging or attachment 
 -- this is the pre-requisite which creates suffering. Wherever 
 suffering arises look into it. Don't look too far away, look right 
 into the present moment. Look at your own mind and body. When 
 suffering arises..."Why is there suffering?" Look right now. When 
 happiness arises, what is the cause of that happiness? Look right 
 there. Wherever these things arise be aware. Both happiness and 
 suffering arise from clinging.
    
    The cultivators of old saw their minds in this way. There is only 
 arising and ceasing. There is no abiding entity. They contemplated 
 from all angles and saw that there was nothing much to this mind, 
 nothing is stable. There is only arising and ceasing, ceasing and 
 arising, nothing is of any lasting substance. While walking or 
 sitting they saw things in this way. Wherever they looked there was 
 only suffering, that's all. It's just like a big iron ball which has 
 just been blasted in a furnace. It's hot all over. If you touch the 
 top it's hot, touch the sides and they're hot -- it's hot all over. 
 There isn't any place on it which is cool.
    
    Now if we don't consider these things we know nothing about them. 
 We must see clearly. Don't get "born" into things, don't fall into 
 birth. Know the workings of birth. Such thoughts as, "Oh, I can't 
 stand that person, he does everything wrongly", will no longer 
 arise. Or, "I really like so and so...", these things don't arise. 
 There remain merely the conventional worldly standards of like and 
 dislike, but one's speech is one way, one's mind another. They are 
 separate things. We must use the conventions of the world to 
 communicate with each other, but inwardly we must be empty. The mind 
 is above those things. We must bring the mind to transcendence like 
 this. This is the abiding of the Noble Ones. We must all aim for 
 this and practice accordingly. Don't get caught up in doubts.
    
    Before I started to practice, I thought to myself, "The Buddhist 
 religion is here, available for all, and yet why do only some people 
 practice while others don't? Or if they do practice, they do so only 
 for a short while then give up. Or again those who don't give it up 
 still don't knuckle down and do the practice? Why is this?" So I 
 resolved to myself, "Okay...I'll give up this body and mind for this 
 lifetime and try to follow the teaching of the Buddha down to the 
 last detail. I'll reach understanding in this very 
 lifetime...because if I don't I'll still be sunk in suffering. I'll 
 let go of everything else and make a determined effort, no matter 
 how much difficulty or suffering I have to endure, I'll persevere. 
 If I don't do it I'll just keep on doubting."
    
    Thinking like this I got down to practice. No matter how much 
 happiness, suffering or difficulty I had to endure I would do it. I 
 looked on my whole life as if it was only one day and a night. I 
 gave it up. "I'll follow the teaching of the Buddha, I'll follow the 
 Dhamma to understanding -- Why is this world of delusion so 
 wretched?" I wanted to know, I wanted to master the Teaching, so I 
 turned to the practice of Dhamma.
    
    How much of the worldly life do we monastics renounce? If we have 
 gone forth for good then it means we renounce it all, there's 
 nothing we don't renounce. All the things of the world that people 
 enjoy are cast off: sights, sounds, smells, tastes and feelings...we 
 throw them all away. And yet we experience them. So Dhamma 
 practicers must be content with little and remain detached. Whether 
 in regard to speech, in eating or whatever, we must be easily 
 satisfied: eat simply, sleep simply, live simply. Just like they 
 say, "an ordinary person", one who lives simply. The more you 
 practice the more you will be able to take satisfaction in your 
 practice. You will see into your own heart.
    
    The Dhamma is //paccattam//, you must know it for yourself. To 
 know for yourself means to practice for yourself. You can depend on 
 a teacher only fifty percent of the way. Even the teaching I have 
 given you today is completely useless in itself, even if it is worth 
 hearing. But if you were to believe it all just because I said so 
 you wouldn't be using the teaching properly.
    
    If you believed me completely then you'd be foolish. To hear the 
 teaching, see its benefit, put it into practice for yourself, see it 
 within yourself, do it yourself...this is much more useful. You will 
 then know the taste of Dhamma for yourself.
    
    This is why the Buddha didn't talk about the fruits of the 
 practice in much detail, because it's something one can't convey in 
 words. It would be like trying to describe different colors to a 
 person blind from birth, "Oh, it's so white", or "it's bright 
 yellow", for instance. You couldn't convey those colors to them. You 
 could try but it wouldn't serve much purpose.
    
    The Buddha brings it back down to the individual -- see clearly 
 for yourself. If you see clearly for yourself you will have clear 
 proof within yourself. Whether standing, walking, sitting or 
 reclining you will be free of doubt. Even if someone were to say, 
 "Your practice isn't right, it's all wrong", still you would be 
 unmoved, because you have your own proof.
    
    A practicer of the Dhamma must be like this wherever he goes. 
 Others can't tell you, you must know for yourself. //Sammaditthi//, 
 Right View, must be there. The practice must be like this for every 
 one of us. To do the real practice like this for even one month out 
 of five or ten rains retreats would be rare.
    
    Our sense organs must be constantly working. Know content and 
 discontent, be aware of like and dislike. Know appearance and know 
 transcendence. The Apparent and the Transcendent must be realized 
 simultaneously. Good and evil must be seen as co-existent, arising 
 together. This is the fruit of the Dhamma practice.
    
    So whatever is useful to yourself and to others, whatever 
 practice benefits both yourself and others, is called "following the 
 Buddha." I've talked about this often. The things which should be 
 done, people seem to neglect. For example, the work in the 
 monastery, the standards of practice and so on. I've talked about 
 them often and yet people don't seem to put their hearts into it. 
 Some don't know, some are lazy and can't be bothered, some are 
 simply scattered and confused.
    
    But that's a cause for wisdom to arise. If we go to places where 
 none of these things arise, what would we see? Take food, for 
 instance. If food doesn't have any taste is it delicious? If a 
 person is deaf will he hear anything? If you don't perceive anything 
 will you have anything to contemplate? If there are no problems will 
 there be anything to solve? Think of the practice in this way.
    
    Once I went to live up north. At that time I was living with many 
 monks, all of them elderly but newly ordained, with only two or 
 three rains retreat. At the time I had ten rains. Living with those 
 old monks I decided to perform the various duties -- receiving their 
 bowls, washing their robes, emptying their spittoons and so on. I 
 didn't think in terms of doing it for any particular individual, I 
 simply maintained my practice. If others didn't do the duties I'd do 
 them myself. I saw it as a good opportunity for me to gain merit. It 
 made me feel good and gave me a sense of satisfaction.
    
    On the //uposatha// [*] days I knew the required duties. I'd go 
 and clean out the //uposatha// hall and set out water for washing 
 and drinking. The others didn't know anything about the duties, they 
 just watched. I didn't criticize them, because they didn't know. I 
 did the duties myself, and having done them I felt pleased with 
 myself, I had inspiration and a lot of energy in my practice.
 
 * [Observance days, held roughly every fortnight, on which monks 
 confess their offenses and recite the disciplinary precepts, the 
 //Patimokkha//.]
 
 
    Whenever I could do something in the monastery, whether in my own 
 //kuti// or others', if it was dirty, I'd clean up. I didn't do it 
 for anyone in particular, I didn't do it to impress anyone, I simply 
 did it to maintain a good practice. Cleaning a //kuti// or dwelling 
 place is just like cleaning rubbish out of your own mind.
    
    Now this is something all of you should bear in mind. You don't 
 have to worry about harmony, it will automatically be there. Live 
 together with Dhamma, with peace and restraint, train your mind to 
 be like this and no problems will arise. If there is heavy work to 
 be done everybody helps out and in no long time the work is done, it 
 gets taken care of quite easily. That's the best way.
    
    I have come across some other types, though...although I used it 
 as an opportunity to grow. For instance, living in a big monastery, 
 the monks and novices may agree among themselves to wash robes on a 
 certain day. I'd go and boil up the jackfruit wood. [*] Now there'd 
 be some monks who'd wait for someone else to boil up the jackfruit 
 wood and then come along and wash their robes, take them back to 
 their //kutis//, hang them out and then take a nap. They didn't have 
 to set up the fire, didn't have to clean up afterwards...they 
 thought they were on a good thing, that they were being clever. This 
 is the height of stupidity. These people are just increasing their 
 own stupidity because they don't do anything, they leave all the 
 work up to others. They wait till everything is ready then come 
 along and make use of it, it's easy for them. This is just adding to 
 one's foolishness. Those actions serve no useful purpose whatsoever 
 to them.
 
 * [The heartwood from the jackfruit tree is boiled down and the 
 resulting color used both to dye and to wash the robes of the forest 
 monks.]
 
 
    Some people think foolishly like this. They shirk the required 
 duties and think that this is being clever, but it is actually very 
 foolish. If we have that sort of attitude we won't last.
    
    Therefore, whether speaking, eating or doing anything whatsoever, 
 reflect on yourself. You may want to live comfortably, eat 
 comfortably, sleep comfortably and so on, but you can't. What have 
 we come here for? If we regularly reflect on this we will be 
 heedful, we won't forget, we will be constantly alert. Being alert 
 like this you will put forth effort in all postures. If you don't 
 put forth effort things go quite differently...Sitting, you sit like 
 you're in the town, walking, you walk like you're in the town...you 
 just want to go and play around in the town with the laypeople.
    
    If there is no effort in the practice the mind will tend in that 
 direction. You don't oppose and resist your mind, you just allow it 
 to waft along the wind of your moods. This is called following one's 
 moods. Like a child, if we indulge all its wants will it be a good 
 child? If the parents indulge all their child's wishes is that good? 
 Even if they do indulge it somewhat at first, by the time it can 
 speak they may start to occasionally spank it because they're afraid 
 it'll end up stupid. The training of our mind must be like this. You 
 have to know yourself and how to train yourself. If you don't know 
 how to train your own mind, waiting around expecting someone else to 
 train it for you, you'll end up in trouble.
    
    So don't think that you can't practice in this place. Practice 
 has no limits. Whether standing, walking, sitting or lying down, you 
 can always practice. Even while sweeping the monastery grounds or 
 seeing a beam of sunlight, you can realize the Dhamma. But you must 
 have sati at hand. Why so? Because you can realize the Dhamma at any 
 time at all, in any place, if you ardently meditate.
    
    Don't be heedless. Be watchful, be alert. While walking on 
 almsround there are all sorts of feelings arising, and it's all good 
 Dhamma. When you get back to the monastery and are eating your food 
 there's plenty of good Dhamma for you to look into. If you have 
 constant effort all these things will be objects for contemplation, 
 there will be wisdom, you will see the dhamma. This is called 
 //dhamma-vicaya//, reflecting on Dhamma. It's one of the 
 enlightenment factors. [*] If there is //sati//, recollection, there 
 will be //dhamma-vicaya// as a result. These are factors of 
 enlightenment. If we have recollection then we won't simply take it 
 easy, there will also be inquiry into Dhamma. These things become 
 factors for realizing the Dhamma.
 
 *[//Bojjjhanga// -- the Seven Factors of Enlightenment: //sati//, 
 recollection; //dhamma-vicaya//, inquiry into //dhammas//; 
 //viriya//, effort; //piti//, joy; //passadhi//, peace; //samadhi//, 
 concentration; and //upekkha//, equanimity.]
 
 
    If we have reached this stage then our practice will know neither 
 day or night, it will continue on regardless of the time of day. 
 There will be nothing to taint the practice, or if there is we will 
 immediately know it. Let there be //dhamma-vicaya// within our minds 
 constantly, looking into Dhamma. If our practice has entered the 
 flow the mind will tend to be like this. It won't go off after other 
 things..."I think I'll go for a trip over there, or perhaps this 
 other place...over in that province should be interesting..." That's 
 the way of the world. Not long and the practice will die.
    
    So resolve yourselves. It's not just by sitting with your eyes 
 closed that you develop wisdom. Eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body and 
 mind are constantly with us, so be constantly alert. Study 
 constantly. Seeing trees or animals can all be occasions for study. 
 Bring it all inwards. See clearly within your own heart. If some 
 sensation makes impact on the heart, witness it clearly for 
 yourself, don't simply disregard it.
    
    Take a simple comparison: baking bricks. have you ever seen a 
 brick-baking oven? They build the fire up about two or three feet in 
 front of the oven, then the smoke all gets drawn into it. Looking at 
 this illustration you can more clearly understand the practice. 
 Making a brick kiln in the right way you have to make the fire so 
 that all the smoke gets drawn inside, none is left over. All the 
 heat goes into the oven, and the job gets done quickly.
    
    We Dhamma practicers should experience things in this way. all 
 our feelings will be drawn inwards to be turned into Right View. 
 Seeing sights, hearing sounds, smelling odors, tasting flavors and 
 so on, the mind draws them all inward to be converted into Right 
 View. Those feelings thus become experiences which give rise to 
 wisdom.
                                        
                                        
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