About Being Careful

This is how it is. Merely having the thoughts is not negative kamma. If we don't have any thoughts, how will wisdom develop? Some people simply want to sit with a blank mind. That's wrong understanding.

I'm talking about samādhi that is accompanied by wisdom. In fact, the Buddha didn't wish for a lot of samādhi. He didn't want jhāna and samāpatti. He saw samādhi as one component factor of the path. Sīla, samādhi and paññā are components or ingredients, like ingredients used in cooking. We use spices in cooking to make food tasty. The point isn't the spices themselves, but the food we eat. Practicing samādhi is the same. The Buddha's teachers, Uddaka and Ālāra, put heavy emphasis on practicing the jhāna, and attaining various kinds of powers like clairvoyance. But if you get that far, it's hard to undo. Some places teach this deep tranquility, to sit with delight in quietude. The meditators then get intoxicated by their samādhi. If they have sīla, they get intoxicated by their sıla. If they walk the path, they become intoxicated by the path, dazzled by the beauty and wonders they experience, and they don't reach the real destination.

The Buddha said that this is a subtle error. Still, it's something correct for those on a coarse level. But actually what the Buddha wanted was for us to have an appropriate measure of samādhi, without getting stuck there. After we train in and develop samādhi, then samādhi should develop wisdom.

Samādhi that is on the level of samatha - tranquility - is like a rock covering grass. In samādhi that is sure and stable, even when the eyes are opened, wisdom is there. When wisdom has been born, it encompasses and knows ('rules') all things. So the teacher did not want those refined levels of concentration and cessation, because they become a diversion and the path is forgotten.

So what is necessary is not to be attached to sitting or any other particular posture. Samādhi doesn't reside in having the eyes closed, the eyes open, or in sitting, standing, walking or lying down. Samādhi pervades all postures and activities. Older persons, who often can't sit very well, can contemplate especially well and practice samādhi easily; they too can develop a lot of wisdom.

How is it that they can develop wisdom? Everything is rousing them. When they open their eyes, they don't see things as clearly as they used to. Their teeth give them trouble and fall out. Their bodies ache most of the time. Just that is the place of study. So really, meditation is easy for old folks. Meditation is hard for youngsters. Their teeth are strong, so they can enjoy their food. They sleep soundly. Their faculties are intact and the world is fun and exciting to them, so they get deluded in a big way. For the old ones, when they chew on something hard they're soon in pain. Right there the devadūta (divine messengers) are talking to them; they're teaching them every day. When they open their eyes their sight is fuzzy. In the morning their backs ache. In the evening their legs hurt. That's it! This is really an excellent subject to study. Some of you older people will say you can't meditate. What do you want to meditate on? Who will you learn meditation from?

This is seeing the body in the body and sensation in sensation. Are you seeing these or are you running away? Saying you can't practice because you're too old is only due to wrong understanding. The question is, are things clear to you? Elderly persons have a lot of thinking, a lot of sensation, a lot of discomfort and pain. Everything appears! If they meditate, they can really testify to it. So I say that meditation is easy for old folks. They can do it best. It's like the way everyone says, ''When I'm old, I'll go to the monastery.'' If you understand this, it's true alright. You have to see it within yourself. When you sit, it's true; when you stand up, it's true; when you walk, it's true. Everything is a hassle, everything is presenting obstacles - and everything is teaching you. Isn't this so? Can you just get up and walk away so easily now? When you stand up, it's ''Oy!'' Or haven't you noticed? And it's ''Oy!'' when you walk. It's prodding you.

When you're young you can just stand up and walk, going on your way. But you don't really know anything. When you're old, every time you stand up it's ''Oy!'' Isn't that what you say? ''Oy! Oy!'' Every time you move, you learn something. So how can you say it's difficult to meditate? Where else is there to look? It's all correct. The devadūta are telling you something. It's most clear. Sankhāra are telling you that they are not stable or permanent, not you or yours. They are telling you this every moment.

But we think differently. We don't think that this is right. We entertain wrong view and our ideas are far from the truth. But actually, old persons can see impermanence, suffering and lack of self, and give rise to dispassion and disenchantment - because the evidence is right there within them all the time. I think that's good.

Having the inner sensitivity that is always aware of right and wrong is called Buddho. It's not necessary to be continually repeating ''Buddho.'' You've counted the fruit in your basket. Every time you sit down, you don't have to go to the trouble of spilling out the fruit and counting it again. You can leave it in the basket. But someone with mistaken attachment will keep counting. He'll stop under a tree, spill it out and count, and put it back in the basket. Then he'll walk on to the next stopping place and do it again. But he's just counting the same fruit. This is craving itself. He's afraid that if he doesn't count, there will be some mistake. We are afraid that if we don't keep saying ''Buddho,'' we'll be mistaken. How are we mistaken? It's only the person who doesn't know how much fruit there is who needs to count. Once you know, you can take it easy and just leave it in the basket. When you're sitting, you just sit. When you're lying down, you just lie down because your fruit is all there with you.