Here is a simple comparison: suppose you go and sit in the middle
of a freeway with the cars and trucks charging down at you. You can't
get angry at the cars, shouting, ''Don't drive over here! Don't
drive over here!'' It's a freeway, you can't tell them that. So what
can you do? You get off the road! The road is the place where cars
run, if you don't want the cars to be there, you suffer.
It's the same with sankhāras. We say they disturb
us, like when we sit in meditation and hear a sound. We think, ''Oh,
that sound's bothering me.'' If we understand that the sound bothers
us then we suffer accordingly. If we investigate a little deeper,
we will see that it's we who go out and disturb the sound! The sound
is simply sound. If we understand like this then there's nothing more
to it, we leave it be. We see that the sound is one thing, we are
another. One who understands that the sound comes to disturb him is
one who doesn't see himself. He really doesn't! Once you see yourself,
then you're at ease. The sound is just sound, why should you go and
grab it? You see that actually it was you who went out and disturbed
the sound.
This is real knowledge of the truth. You see both sides, so you have
peace. If you see only one side, there is suffering. Once you see
both sides, then you follow the Middle Way. This is the right practice
of the mind. This is what we call straightening out our understanding.
In the same way, the nature of all sankhāras is
imper-manence and death, but we want to grab them, we carry them about
and covet them. We want them to be true. We want to find truth within
the things that aren't true. Whenever someone sees like this and clings
to the san kharas as being himself, he suffers.
The practice of Dhamma is not dependent on being a monk, a novice
or a layman; it depends on straightening out your understanding. If
our understanding is correct, we arrive at peace. Whether you are
ordained or not it's the same, every person has the chance to practise
Dhamma, to contemplate it. We all contemplate the same thing. If you
attain peace, it's all the same peace; it's the same path, with the
same methods.
Therefore the Buddha didn't discriminate between laymen and monks,
he taught all people to practise to know the truth of the sankhāras.
When we know this truth, we let them go. If we know the truth there
will be no more becoming or birth. How is there no more birth? There
is no way for birth to take place because we fully know the truth
of sankhāras. If we fully know the truth, then
there is peace. Having or not having, it's all the same. Gain and
loss are one. The Buddha taught us to know this. This is peace; peace
from happiness, unhappiness, gladness and sorrow.
We must see that there is no reason to be born. Born in what way?
Born into gladness: When we get something we like we are glad over
it. If there is no clinging to that gladness there is no birth; if
there is clinging, this is called 'birth'. So if we get something,
we aren't born (into gladness). If we lose, then we aren't born (into
sorrow). This is the birthless and the deathless. Birth and death
are both founded in clinging to and cherishing the sankhāras.
So the Buddha said. ''There is no more becoming for me, finished
is the holy life, this is my last birth.'' There! He knew the birthless
and the deathless. This is what the Buddha constantly exhorted his
disciples to know. This is the right practice. If you don't reach
it, if you don't reach the Middle Way, then you won't transcend suffering. |