                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                       THE FLOOD OF SENSUALITY
    
    
 Kamogha...the flood of sensuality: sunk in sights, in sounds, in 
 smells, in tastes, in bodily sensations. Sunk because we only look 
 at externals, we don't look inwardly. People don't look at 
 themselves, they only look at others. They can see everybody else 
 but they can't see themselves. It's not such a difficult thing to 
 do, but it's just that people don't really try.
    
    For example, look at a beautiful woman. What does that do to you? 
 As soon as you see the face you see everything else. Do you see it? 
 Just look within your mind. What is it like to see a woman? As soon 
 as the eyes see just a little bit the mind sees all the rest. Why is 
 it so fast?
    
    It's because you are sunk in the "water." You are sunk, you think 
 about it, fantasize about it, are stuck in it. It's just like being 
 a slave...somebody else has control over you. When they tell you to 
 sit you've got to sit, when they tell you to walk you've got to 
 walk...you can't disobey them because you're their slave. Being 
 enslaved by the senses is the same. No matter how hard you try you 
 can't seem to shake it off. And if you expect others to do it for 
 you, you really get into trouble. You must shake it off for 
 yourself.
    
    Therefore the Buddha left the practice of Dhamma, the 
 transcendence of suffering, up to us. Take //nibbana// [*] for 
 example. The Buddha was thoroughly enlightened, so why didn't he 
 describe //nibbana// in detail? Why did he only say that we should 
 practice and find out for ourselves. Why is that? Shouldn't he have 
 explained what //nibbana// is like?
 
 * [//Nibbana// -- the state of liberation from all conditioned 
 states.]
 
 
    "The Buddha practiced, developing the perfections over countless 
 world ages for the sake of all sentient beings, so why didn't he 
 point out //nibbana// so that they all could see it and go there 
 too?" Some people think like this. "If the Buddha really knew he 
 would tell us. Why should he keep anything hidden?"
    
    Actually this sort of thinking is wrong. We can't see the truth 
 in that way. We must practice, we must cultivate, in order to see. 
 The Buddha only pointed out the way to develop wisdom, that's all. 
 He said that we ourselves must practice. Whoever practices will 
 reach the goal.
    
    But that path which the Buddha taught goes against our habits. To 
 be frugal, to be restrained...we don't really like these things, so 
 we say, "Show us the way, show us the way to //nibbana//, so that 
 those who like it easy like us can go there too." It's the same with 
 wisdom. The Buddha can't show you wisdom, it's not something that 
 can be simply handed around. The Buddha can show the way to develop 
 wisdom, but whether you develop much or only a little depends on the 
 individual. Merit and accumulated virtues of people naturally 
 differ.
    
    Just look at a material object, such as the wooden lions in front 
 of the hall here. People come and look at them and can't seem to 
 agree: one person says, "Oh, how beautiful", while another says, 
 "How revolting!" It's the one lion, both beautiful and ugly. Just 
 this is enough to know how things are.
    
    Therefore the realization of Dhamma is sometimes slow, sometimes 
 fast. The Buddha and his disciples were all alike in that they had 
 to practice for themselves, but even so they still relied on 
 teachers to advise them and give them techniques in the practice.
    
    Now, when we listen to Dhamma we may want to listen until all our 
 doubts are cleared up, but they'll never be cleared up simply by 
 listening. Doubt is not overcome simply by listening or thinking, we 
 must first clean out the mind. To clean out the mind means to revise 
 our practice. No matter how long we were to listen to the teacher 
 talk about the truth we couldn't know or see that truth just from 
 listening. If we did it would be only through guesswork or 
 conjecture.
    
    However, even though simply listening to the Dhamma may not lead 
 to realization, it is beneficial. There were, in the Buddha's time, 
 those who realized the Dhamma, even realizing the highest 
 realization -- arahantship, while listening to a discourse. But 
 those people were already highly developed, their minds already 
 understood to some extent. It's like a football. When a football is 
 pumped up with air it expands. Now the air in that football is all 
 pushing to get out, but there's no hole for it to do so. As soon as 
 a needle punctures the football the air comes bursting out.
    
    This is the same. The minds of those disciples who were 
 enlightened while listening to the Dhamma were like this. As long as 
 there was no catalyst to cause the reaction this "pressure" was 
 within them, like the football. The mind was not yet free because of 
 this very small thing concealing the truth. As soon as they heard 
 the Dhamma and it hit the right spot, wisdom arose. They immediately 
 understood, immediately let go and realized the true Dhamma. That's 
 how it was. It was easy. The mind uprighted itself. It changed, or 
 turned, from one view to another. You could say it was far, or you 
 could say it was very near.
    
    This is something we must do for ourselves. The Buddha was only 
 able to give techniques on how to develop wisdom, and so with the 
 teachers these days. They give Dhamma talks, they talk about the 
 truth, but still we can't make that truth our own. Why not? There's 
 a "film" obscuring it. You could say that we are sunk, sunk in the 
 water. //Kamogha// -- the "flood" of sensuality. //Bhavogha// -- the 
 "flood" of becoming.
    
    "Becoming" (//bhava//) means "the sphere of birth." Sensual 
 desire is born at sights, sounds, tastes, smells, feelings and 
 thoughts, identifying with these things. The mind holds fast and is 
 stuck to sensuality.
    
    Some cultivators get bored, fed up, tired of the practice and 
 lazy. You don't have to look very far, just look at how people can't 
 seem to keep the Dhamma in mind, and yet if they get scolded they'll 
 hold on to it for ages. They may get scolded at the beginning of the 
 Rains, and even after the Rains Retreat has ended they still haven't 
 forgotten it. Their whole lives they still won't forget it if it 
 goes down deep enough.
    
    But when it comes to the Buddha's teaching, telling us to be 
 moderate, to be restrained, to practice conscientiously...why don't 
 people take these things to their hearts? Why do they keep 
 forgetting these things? You don't have to look very far, just look 
 at our practice here. For example, establishing standards such as: 
 after the meal while washing your bowls, don't chatter! Even this 
 much seems to be beyond people. Even though we know that chattering 
 is not particularly useful and binds us to sensuality...people still 
 like talking. Pretty soon they start to disagree and eventually get 
 into arguments and squabbles. There's nothing more to it than this.
    
    Now this isn't anything subtle or refined, it's pretty basic, and 
 yet people don't seem to really make much effort with it. They say 
 they want to see the Dhamma, but they want to see it on their own 
 terms, they don't want to follow the path of practice. That's as far 
 as they go. All these standards of practice are skillful means for 
 penetrating to and seeing the Dhamma, but people don't practice 
 accordingly.
    
    To say "real practice" or "ardent practice" doesn't necessarily 
 mean you have to expend a whole lot of energy -- just put some 
 effort into the mind, making some effort with all the feelings that 
 arise, especially those which are steeped in sensuality. These are 
 our enemies.
    
    But people can't seem to do it. Every year, as the end of the 
 Rains Retreat approaches, it gets worse and worse. Some of the monks 
 have reached the limit of their endurance, the "end of their 
 tether." The closer we get to the end of the Rains the worse they 
 get, they have no consistency in their practice. I speak about this 
 every year and yet people can't seem to remember it. We establish a 
 certain standard and in not even a year it's fallen apart. Almost 
 finished the Retreat and it starts -- the chatter, the socializing 
 and everything else. It all goes to pieces. This is how it tends to 
 be.
    
    Those who are really interested in the practice should consider 
 why this is so. It's because people don't see the adverse results of 
 these things.
    
    When we are accepted into the Buddhist monkhood we live simply. 
 And yet some of them disrobe to go to the front, where the bullets 
 fly past them every day -- they prefer it like that. They really 
 want to go. Danger surrounds them on all sides and yet they're 
 prepared to go. Why don't they see the danger? They're prepared to 
 die by the gun but nobody wants to die developing virtue. Just 
 seeing this is enough...it's because they're slaves, nothing else. 
 See this much and you know what it's all about. People don't see the 
 danger.
    
    This is really amazing, isn't it? You'd think they could see it 
 but they can't. If they can't see it even then, then there's no way 
 they can get out. They're determined to whirl around in //samsara//. 
 This is how things are. Just talking about simple things like this 
 we can begin to understand.
    
    If you were to ask them, "Why were you born?" They'd probably 
 have a lot of trouble answering, because they can't see it. They're 
 sunk in the world of the senses and sunk in becoming (//bhava//). 
 [*] //Bhava// is the sphere of birth, our birthplace. To put it 
 simply, where are beings born from? //Bhava// is the preliminary 
 condition for birth. Wherever birth takes place, that's //bhava//.
    
 * [The Thai word for //bhava// -- "//pop//" -- would have been a 
 familiar term to Ajahn Chah's audience. It is generally understood 
 to mean "Sphere of rebirth." Ajahn Chah's usage of the word here is 
 somewhat unconventional, emphasizing a more practical application of 
 the term.]
 
 
    For example, suppose we had an orchard of apple trees that we 
 were particularly fond of. That's a //bhava// for us if we don't 
 reflect with wisdom. How so? Suppose our orchard contained a hundred 
 or a thousand apple trees...it doesn't really matter what kind of 
 trees they are, just so long as we consider them to be "our own" 
 trees...then we are going to be "born" as a "worm" in every single 
 one of those trees. We bore into every one, even though our human 
 body is still back there in the house, we send out "tentacles" into 
 every one of those trees.
    
    Now, how do we know that it's a //bhava//? It's a //bhava// 
 (sphere of existence) because of our clinging to the idea that those 
 trees are our own, that that orchard is our own. If someone were to 
 take an ax and cut one of the trees down, the owner over there in 
 the house "dies" along with the tree. He gets furious, and has to go 
 and set things right, to fight and maybe even kill over it. That 
 quarreling is the "birth." The "sphere of birth" is the orchard of 
 trees that we cling to as our own. We are "born" right at the point 
 where we consider them to be our own, born from that //bhava//. Even 
 if we had a thousand apple trees, if someone were to cut down just 
 one it'd be like cutting the owner down.
    
    Whatever we cling to we are born right there, we exist right 
 there. We are born as soon as we "know." This is knowing through 
 not-knowing: we know that someone has cut down one of our trees. But 
 we don't know that those trees are not really ours. This is called 
 "knowing through not-knowing." We are bound to be born into that 
 //bhava//.
    
    //Vatta// the wheel of conditioned existence, operates like this. 
 People cling to //bhava//, they depend on //bhava//. If they cherish 
 //bhava//, this is birth . And if they fall into suffering over that 
 same thing, this is also a birth. As long as we can't let go we are 
 stuck in the rut of //samsara//, spinning around like a wheel. Look 
 into this, contemplate it. Whatever we cling to as being us or ours, 
 that is a place for birth.
    
    There must be a //bhava//, a sphere of birth, before birth can 
 take place. Therefore the Buddha said, whatever you have, don't 
 "have" it. Let it be there but don't make it yours. You must 
 understand this "having" and "not having," know the truth of them, 
 don't flounder in suffering.
    
    The place that we were born from; you want to go back there and 
 be born again, don't you? All of you monks and novices, do you know 
 where you were born from? You want to go back there, don't you? 
 Right there, look into this. All of you getting ready. The nearer we 
 get to the end of the retreat the more you start preparing to go 
 back and be born there.
    
    Really, you'd think that people could appreciate what it would be 
 like, living in a person's belly. How uncomfortable would that be? 
 Just look, merely staying in your //kuti// for one day is enough. 
 Shut all the doors and windows and you're suffocating already. How 
 would it be to lie in a person's belly for nine or ten months? Think 
 about it.
    
    People don't see the liability of things. Ask them why they are 
 living, or why they are born, and they have no idea. Do you still 
 want to get back in there? Why? It should be obvious but you don't 
 see it. Why can't you see it? What are you stuck on, what are you 
 holding onto? Think it out for yourself.
    
    It's because there is a cause for becoming and birth. Just take a 
 look at the preserved baby in the main hall, have you seen it? Isn't 
 anybody alarmed by it? No, no-one's alarmed by it. A baby lying in 
 its mother's belly is just like that preserved baby. And yet you 
 want to make more of those things, and even want to get back and 
 soak in there yourself. Why don't you see the danger of it and the 
 benefit of the practice?
    
    You see? That's //bhava//. The root is right there, it revolves 
 around that. The Buddha taught to contemplate this point. People 
 think about it but still don't see. They're all getting ready to go 
 back there again. they know that it wouldn't be very comfortable in 
 there, to put their necks in the noose is really uncomfortable, they 
 still want to lay their heads in there. Why don't they understand 
 this? This is where wisdom comes in, where we must contemplate.
    
    When I talk like this people say, "If that's the case then 
 everybody would have to become monks...and then how would the world 
 be able to function?" You'll never get everybody to become monks, so 
 don't worry. The world is here because of deluded beings, so this is 
 no trifling matter.
    
    I first became a novice at the age of nine. I started practicing 
 from way back then. But in those days I didn't really know what it 
 was all about. I found out when I became a monk. Once I became a 
 monk I became so wary. The sensual pleasures people indulged in 
 didn't seem like so much fun to me. I saw the suffering in them. It 
 was like seeing a delicious banana which I knew was very sweet but 
 which I also knew to be poisoned. No matter how sweet or tempting it 
 was, if I ate it I would die. I considered in this way every 
 time...every time I wanted to "eat a banana" I would see the 
 "poison" steeped inside, and so eventually I could withdraw my 
 interest from those things. Now at this age, such things are not at 
 all tempting.
    
    Some people don't see the "poison'; some see it but still want to 
 try their luck. "If your hand is wounded don't touch poison, it may 
 seep into the wound."
    
    I used to consider trying it out as well. When I had lived as a 
 monk for five or six years, I thought of the Buddha. He practiced 
 for five or six years and was finished, but I was still interested 
 in the worldly life, so I thought of going back to it: "Maybe I 
 should go and "build the world" for a while, I would gain some 
 experience and learning. Even the Buddha had his son, Rahula. Maybe 
 I'm being too strict?..."
    
    I sat and considered this for some time, until I realized: "Yes, 
 well, that's all very fine, but I'm just afraid that this 'Buddha' 
 won't be like the last one", a voice in me said, "I'm afraid this 
 'Buddha' will just sink into the mud, not like the last one." And so 
 I resisted those worldly thoughts.
    
    From my sixth or seventh rains retreat up until the twentieth, I 
 really had to put up a fight. These days I seem to have run out of 
 bullets, I've been shooting for a long time. I'm just afraid that 
 you younger monks and novices have still got so much ammunition, you 
 may just want to go and try out your guns. Before you do, consider 
 carefully first.
    
    Speaking of sensual desire, it's hard to give up. It's really 
 difficult to see it as it is. We must use skillful means. Consider 
 sensual pleasures as like eating meat which gets stuck in your 
 teeth. Before you finish the meal you have to find a toothpick to 
 pry it out. When the meat comes out you feel some relief for a 
 while, maybe you even think that you won't eat any more meat. But 
 when you see it again you can't resist it. You eat some more and 
 then  it gets stuck again. When it gets stuck you have to pick it 
 out again, which gives some relief once more, until you eat some 
 more meat...That's all there is to it. Sensual pleasures are just 
 like this, no better than this. When the meat gets stuck in your 
 teeth there's discomfort. You take a toothpick and pick it out and 
 experience some relief. There's nothing more to it than this sensual 
 desire...The pressure builds up and up until you let a little bit 
 out...Oh! That's all there is to it. I don't know what all the fuss 
 is about.
    
    I didn't learn these things from anybody else, they occurred to 
 me in the course of my practice. I would sit in meditation and 
 reflect on sensual pleasure as being like a red ants' nest. [*] 
 Someone takes a piece of wood and pokes the nest until the ants come 
 running out, crawling down the wood and into their faces, biting 
 their eyes and ears. And yet they still don't see the difficulty 
 they are in.
    
 * [Both the red ants and their eggs are used for food in North East 
 Thailand, so that such raids on their nests were not so unusual.]
 
 
    However it's not beyond our ability. In the teaching of the 
 Buddha it is said that if we've seen the harm of something, no 
 matter how good it may seem to be, we know that it's harmful. 
 Whatever we haven't yet seen the harm of, we just think it's good. 
 If we haven't yet seen the harm of anything we can't get out of it.
    
    Have you noticed? No matter how dirty it may be people like it. 
 This kind of "work" isn't clean but you don't even have to pay 
 people to do it, they'll gladly volunteer. With other kinds of dirty 
 work, even if you pay a good wage people won't do it, but this kind 
 of work they submit themselves to gladly, you don't even have to pay 
 them. It's not that it's clean work, either, it's dirty work. Yet 
 why do people like it? How can you say that people are intelligent 
 when they behave like this? Think about it.
    
    Have you ever noticed the dogs in the monastery ground here? 
 There are packs of them. They run around biting each other, some of 
 them even getting maimed. In another month or so they'll be at it. 
 As soon as one of the smaller ones gets into the pack the bigger 
 ones are at him...out he comes yelping, dragging his leg behind him. 
 But when the pack runs on he hobbles on after it. He's only a little 
 one, but he thinks he'll get his chance one day. They bite his leg 
 for him and that's all he gets for his trouble. For the whole of the 
 mating season he may not even get one chance. You can see this for 
 yourself in the monastery here.
    
    These dogs when they run around howling in packs...I figure if 
 they were humans they'd be singing songs! They think it's such great 
 fun they're singing songs, but they don't have a clue what it is 
 that makes them do it, they just blindly follow their instincts.
    
    Think about this carefully. If you really want to practice you 
 should understand your feelings. For example, among the monks, 
 novices or laypeople, who should you socialize with? If you 
 associate with people who talk a lot they induce you to talk a lot 
 also. Your own share is already enough, theirs is even more...put 
 them together and they explode!
    
    People like to socialize with those who chatter a lot and talk of 
 frivolous things. They can sit and listen to that for hours. When it 
 comes to listening to Dhamma, talking about practice, there isn't 
 much of it to be heard. Like when giving a Dhamma talk: As soon as I 
 start off..."Namo Tassa Bhagavato' [*] ...they're all sleepy 
 already. They don't take in the talk at all. When I reach the "Evam" 
 they all open their eyes and wake up. Every time there's a Dhamma 
 talk people fall asleep. How are they going to get any benefit from 
 it?
    
 * [The first line of the traditional Pali words of homage to the 
 Buddha, recited before giving a formal Dhamma talk. //Evam// is the 
 traditional Pali word for ending a talk.]
 
 
    Real Dhamma cultivators will come away from a talk feeling 
 inspired and uplifted, they learn something. Every six or seven days 
 the teacher gives another talk, constantly boosting the practice.
    
    This is your chance, now that you are ordained. There's only this 
 one chance, so take a close look. Look at things and consider which 
 path you will choose. You are independent now. Where are you going 
 to go from here? You are standing at the crossroads between the 
 worldly way and the Dhamma way. Which way will you choose? You can 
 take either way, this is the time to decide. The choice is yours to 
 make. If you are to be liberated it is at this point.
                                        
                                        
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