A city person likes to eat mushrooms. He asks, “Where does the mushroom come from?”, and someone tells him, “It grows in the ground.” So he picks up a basket and heads out into the countryside, hoping that mushrooms will line the side of the road for him to pick. But he walks and walks, climbs mountains and hikes in fields, without seeing a mushroom. A villager has been picking mushrooms before and knows where to look for them; knows which part of the forest to go to. But the urban man only has the experience of seeing mushrooms on his plate. He had heard that they were growing in the ground and figured it would be easy to find them, but it wasn’t.
Training the mind samadhimeditative stability, similar. We think it will be easy. But when we sit, our legs hurt, our back hurts, we feel tired, we get hot and itchy. Then we become discouraged, thinking that samadhi is as far away from us as heaven is from earth. We do not know what to do and are overwhelmed by difficulties. But if we get some training, it will be easier little by little.
When we are new, training in samadhi is difficult. Anything is difficult if we don’t know how to do it. But the training can change that. What is useful can be defeated sooner or later
and surpasses that which does not. We tend to pass out while struggling – it’s a normal reaction and we all go through it. That’s why it’s important to train for a while. It’s like cutting a path through the forest. It’s a rough ride at first, with many obstacles, but returning again and again, we clear the way. After a while, the branches and stumps are removed and the ground becomes firm and smooth from repeated walking. Then we have a good path for walking in the forest. This is what happens when we train the mind. If we hold this, the mind becomes enlightened. Buddha and his disciples were once ordinary beings, but they developed themselves to pass through the stages of enlightenment. They did this through training.
It is important to train for a while. It’s like cutting a path through the forest. It’s a rough ride at first, with many obstacles, but returning again and again, we clear the way.
What did the Buddha advise about practicing meditation? He taught me to practice like the earth, to practice like the water, to practice like the fire, to practice like the wind. Practice like the “old things” we are made of: the solid earth element, the liquid element of water, the warming element of fire, the moving element of wind.
If someone digs the earth, the earth is not disturbed. It can be shoveled, cultivated or irrigated. Damn things can be buried in it. But the earth remains indifferent. Water can be boiled or frozen or used to wash some dirty material; has no effect. Fire can burn beautiful and fragrant things, or ugly and ugly things – it doesn’t matter as far as fire is concerned. When the wind blows, it blows on all kinds of things, fresh and rotten, without a problem.
Buddha used this analogy. The aggregation that we are is merely the union of the elements of earth, water, fire, and air. If you try to find a real person there, you can’t. There are only these item collections. But never in our lives did we think to pull them apart like this to see what we really had; we just thought, “This is me. This is mine. We have always seen everything as self, we have never seen that there is only earth, water, fire and air. But this is what the Buddha teaches. He talks about the four elements and urges us to see that we are. There is earth, water, fire and air; there is no man here. Meditate on these elements and see that there is no being or individual, only earth, water, fire and air.
It’s deep, isn’t it? It is deeply hidden – people look but don’t see it. We are used to always thinking about ourselves and others. So our meditation is still not very deep. It doesn’t reach the truth and we don’t get past the way things seem. We cling to the conventions of the world, and to cling to the world means to remain in the cycle of transformation: to gain and lose, to die and be born, to be born and die, to suffer in the realm of confusion. Whatever we desire and desire, it doesn’t really work out the way we want because we see things wrong. With this grasping attachment, we are still very far from the true path of dharma.
Let’s get to work right now. Our dharma practice should be aimed at overcoming suffering. If we cannot completely transcend suffering, we must at least be able to transcend it a little, now, in the present. For example, if someone speaks harshly to us, if we are not angry, then we have overcome suffering. If we are angry, we have not transcended dukkha.
If someone speaks harshly to us, if we are not angry, then we have overcome suffering. If we are angry, we have not transcended dukkha.
If someone speaks harshly to us, if we think about the dharma, we will see that it is just piles of dirt. Okay, you’re criticizing me – you’re just criticizing a bunch of earth. A pile of land crits another pile of land. Water criticizes water. Air criticizes air. Fire criticizes fire.
But if we really see things that way, others will probably call us crazy. ”He doesn’t care about anything. He has no feelings!”If someone dies, we won’t get upset and cry and be called crazy.
It really comes down to practice and self-awareness. Overcoming suffering does not depend on the opinion of others about us, but on our own state of mind. Don’t worry about what they will say – if we experience the truth for ourselves, then we can live in peace.
When difficulties arise, remember the dharma. Think about what your spiritual guides have taught you. They teach me to let go, self-moderation and self-control, to put things down; they teach that
try to solve your problems in this way. The dharma you learn is only for solving your problems.
What problems are we talking about? How about your family? Is there a problem there? Are you having problems with your children, spouse, friends or work? These things sometimes give you a headache, don’t they? We talk about these problems; the teachings tell you that with dharma you can solve the problems of everyday life.
We were born human. It should be possible to live with a happy soul. We carry out our work in accordance with our responsibilities. When things get tough, practice perseverance. Adequately earning a living is one type of dharma practice, the practice of ethical living. Living happily and harmoniously like this is already very good.
However, we usually take a loss. Don’t take a loss! If you go to a center or a monastery to meditate and then go home and fight, that is a loss. Do you hear what I’m saying? It’s just a waste to do so. That means you don’t see the dharma at all – no benefit at all.
♦
From Everything arises, everything falls © 2005 by Ajahn Chah, translated by Paul Breiter. Reprinted by arrangement with Shambhala Publications, Inc. Boulder, CO. www.shambhala.com
