坚持的是原则还是偏见

圣严法师

坚持原则，是指自己所坚持的，也会为其他人所接受；不仅现在的人可以接受，未来的人也可以接受，甚至过去也曾经被人接受过，这才叫做原则。如果我们能够放下我执，不以自我为中心，任何事情都能看得开、看得淡、放得下，而且能够包容所有的人、所有的事，自然而然就不会有偏见，当然就没有烦恼了。

待人处世的过程中，“坚持原则”本来是正常的，问题是：你所坚持的究竟是原则？还是自己的偏见？

如果对任何事都坚持自己的想法才是对的，坚持要用自己的做法，只管自己，别人的建议和商量，都不愿接受，也不愿意为任何人改变，不替别人设身处地着想，到最后可能于人于事都会造成伤害。你以为这是坚持“原则”，其实不是！你所坚持的，不过是个人的偏见，这就是“我执”。

坚持原则，是指自己所坚持的，也会为其他人所接受；不仅现在的人可以接受，未来的人也可以接受，甚至过去也曾经被人接受过，这才叫做原则。

做人有做人的原则，做事有做事的原则。做人的原则首先要“保护自己”，可是保护自己并不表示要伤害他人；考虑自己的同时，也要尊重他人，自己受益，也希望对他人有帮助，秉持彼此互惠互助的立场，这种原则才是对的。

做事的原则，应该要以大多数人的利益为考量，如果所坚持的原则，是出于自私或为了少数人，或贪图一时的方便，这就是偏见，就是执着。

但许多人经常分不清到底是“择善固执”，还是把个人的偏见当成了原则？其实，只要观察别人对这件事情的观感，就能判断出究竟是偏见还是原则。

如果你的想法和做法，让每个人都觉得受不了、很痛苦，每个人都觉得那是错的、有问题的，只有你认为是对的，那很可能就是偏见。能够符合每一个人或是多数人共同的的想法和意愿，那才是原则。

原则并不是一成不变的，它会随着时间或区域环境的不同而有所改变，唯一不变的是：一定是为众人着想，能够为大家所乐于接受的。

执着偏见的人，就是我执太重。我执会带给我们很多烦恼，因为自我意识太强，自我中心太坚固，就会坚持自己的性情或想法，全身如同刺猬般长满利刺，“棱角”很多，动则伤人，而无法圆融待人。

所以有人说：“做人处事要内方而外圆”，“内方”就是原则，“外圆”就是不伤人。虽然在心里有一定的标准，可是当需要变通的时候，也不要执意不变，食古不化。必须要有一些善巧方便，观念想法适时地转一个弯、换个角度，或是多用同理心、柔软语，这样才不会让人觉得你很难相处，事情才容易成就。

时时提醒自己“内方外圆”的原则，也是化除我执的方法之一。更进一步说，如果我们能够放下我执，不以自我为中心，任何事情都能看得开、看得淡、放得下，而且能够包容所有的人、所有的事，自然而然就不会有偏见，当然就没有烦恼了。

How do we purify our bad karma? First, we must understand that our bad karma is the result of this life and previous lives. If we don't recognise what we are doing is bad, then it is difficult to purify. All Buddhas have different qualities. In order to help us, Buddhas manifest different qualities. For example, Vajrasattva is suitable for purification. You can also chant the Medicine Buddha mantra. Theoretically, whatever your practise, if you practise properly, you will also be able to purify, it will also work. Prostrations, prayers to the Three Jewels... all will help us. The main thing is, we need to work on our mental disposition, and not just rely on mantras. If your motivation is not correct, even if you recite many thousands of Vajrasattva mantras, it may not be effective for your purification.

-- Dagyab Rinpoche

Everything’s Made of Mind

by Norman Fischer

The teachings about mind are perhaps the most precious, profound, and foundational in Buddhism. Without some understanding of the expansive concept of mind described in these teachings, it’s hard to appreciate the full context of Buddhist meditation practice and the enlightenment promised as its ultimate goal.

The Awakening of Faith in the Mahayana, an important text in Far East Asian Buddhism, begins by saying that mind — not only mind in the abstract but the actual minds of sentient beings — “includes within itself all states of being of the phenomenal world and the transcendent world.”

In other words, mind isn’t just mental. It isn’t, as we understand it in the West, exclusively intellectual and psychological. Mind includes all the material world. It also includes the “transcendent world,” which sounds odd. Isn’t it commonplace to think of Buddhism as having, refreshingly, no idea of the transcendent, which sounds like God? We are told that Buddhism is practical and down-to-earth, a human teaching for human beings. It’s about calming and understanding the mind in order to put an end to suffering.

This is certainly true, and is the dominant theme of early Buddhism. But in contemplating what mind is, later Mahayana Buddhist pundits teased out huge and astounding implications embedded in the early teachings.

They began by distinguishing two aspects of mind — an absolute aspect and a relative, phenomenal aspect. These, they said, are both identical and not identical. So mind (not only in the abstract, but also my mind, your mind, the mind of all sentient beings) is at the same time both transcendent and not.

This means that the transcendence isn’t a place or state of being elsewhere or otherwise: it is here and now. Mind and matter, space and time, animate and inanimate, imaginative and real—all are mind. Mind can be both absolute and phenomenal because it is empty of any hard and fast characteristics that could distinguish one thing from another. It is fluid. It neither exists nor doesn’t exist. So, strictly speaking, it isn’t impermanent. It is eternal.

In effect, mind equals reality equals impermanence equals eternity. All of which is contained in the workings of my own mind and that of all sentient beings. So this little human life of mine, with all its petty dramas, as well as this seemingly limited and painful world, is in reality the playing out of something ineffably larger and grander. As Vasubhandu, the Indian Yogachara (Mind-Only) sage, writes in his famous Thirty Verses, reality is simply the transformations of mind.

This is staggering, baffling, and heady. What does it have to do with the inescapable fact that I definitely feel as if I am suffering? My mind may be empty, eternal, transcendent, and vast, but I still experience my life unhappily. What to do?

We could pose the question like this: If my mind is mind, and mind is reality, what is the relationship of my unenlightened mind, the cause of my suffering, to the enlightened mind that puts suffering to an end?

From a psychological and logical point of view, enlightenment and unenlightenment are opposites. I am either enlightened and not suffering, or unenlightened and suffering, and these certainly feel to me like vastly different states. But the teachings on mind assert that enlightenment and unenlightenment are in actuality not different. They are, fundamentally suchness (and the word “fundamentally” — meaning “at bottom,” at their core” — is important here). “Suchness” is a word coined in the Mahayana to connote the mind’s perfect appearance as phenomena. When we receive phenomena as suchness, we don’t experience what we call suffering — even if we suffer!

What we call suffering, and experience as suffering, isn’t actually suffering. It is confusion, illusion, misperception, like seeing a snake that turns out to be merely a crooked stick. Suchness is the only thing we ever really experience. But since we mistake it for something painful and dangerous, we stand apart from it. We see ourselves as its victim, and so are pushed around by it, although in truth there is nothing that pushes, nothing that can be pushed, and no reason in the first place to feel pushed. Reality is not, as we imagine it to be, difficult and painful. It is always only just as it is: suchness.

But lest we project suchness to be something we can reach for or depend on, something other than what we are and see all the time in front of us, we are reminded that suchness isn’t anything. It is a mere word, and the limit, so to speak, of verbalisation. It is a word proposed for the purpose of putting an end to words and concepts whose mesmerising effect on us is the real source of our initial mistaken perception. Since all things are equally and fundamentally suchness, there is literally nothing to be said. Even calling it suchness.

So my suffering, as real as it seems to me, is delusional. But it’s a powerful delusion! Its very structure is built into mind, and therefore my personal consciousness. Since its shape and location (these words are metaphorical: mind has no shape or location) is the same as that of enlightenment, to which it is identical, and since both are empty of any grounding reality, my delusion can’t be gotten rid of. How can you get rid of something that doesn’t exist? Trying to get rid of it will only make matters worse. Besides, to get rid of my delusion is to get rid of my enlightenment, which is my only hope!

In a famous metaphor, Mahayana teachings liken the relationship of delusion to enlightenment to that of a wave and the ocean. The wave is delusion, full of motion and drama. It rises up, crests, breaks, dissipates, and gathers strength to drive again. With my eyes on the wave, I see it as real.

But the wave isn’t anything. There is no such entity as “wave.” There is only water, in motion or not. Wind acts on water to make what we call a wave. If the wind stops, the movement ceases and the water remains quiet. Whether there are waves or no waves, water remains always water, salty and wet. Without wind, the water is quiet and deep. But even when wind activity is strong on the surface, deep below water remains quiet.

Mind is like this. It is deep, pure, and silent. But when the winds of delusion blow, its surface stirs and what we call suffering results. But the waves of my suffering are nothing more or less than mind. And even as I rage, the depths below remain quiet. Life is the wind. Life is the water. As long as life appears as phenomena there will be the stirrings of delusion. Delusion is in fact the movement, the stirring, of awakening. My ocean mind is inherently pure and serene, always. When I know this, I can navigate the waves with grace.

The Awakening of Faith, the text I referred to above, offers an even better analogy. A man is lost. He is confused about which way is north and which way south. He has a place he is trying to go but because of his confusion he can’t get there. He feels disoriented and deeply uncomfortable. He has that sinking feeling of being lost, of not being in the place he wants and ought to be. But then he suddenly realises there actually is no north or south — that these are just names people give to this way or that way, and that, no matter where he is, he is in fact here, where he has always been and will always be. Immediately, that man no longer has a feeling of being lost.

Likewise we are lost when we don’t settle our lives in suchness. Misperceiving the wholeness of our mind, we see confusion and lack, which naturally gives rise to desire. We desire a destination, a state, that will bring us peace. But we don’t know how to get there. We feel lost, ungrounded, desperate for road signs.

“Delusion” is the place we are fleeing. “Enlightenment” is the destination we seek. But it is a false destination. The path and all its teachings are like north and south, names for various directions that have some provisional value but in the end only confuse us if we take them as real in a way they are not.

Since people need maps and directions when they feel lost, enlightenment is proposed as a destination some distance from delusion. The teachings are serviceable, if provisional, navigation aids to point us in what we believe to be the right direction. But after we have gone on long enough to have calmed down a bit, we see the truth: there is nowhere to go and no way to get there. We have been there all along. In Mahayana Buddhism this is called original enlightenment, or tathagatagarbha — the Womb of Suchness.

This same point is made in a famous parable in the Lotus Sutra, an important text of Chinese Buddhism. People are lost. They hire a caravan leader who takes them to what turns out to be an illusory city, where they find some respite. Somewhat refreshed, they are then told by the caravan leader that this is not and has never really been their destination. The destination is endlessly far ahead. In effect there is no destination; they have always been where they wanted to go. But if the caravan leader had told them this at the outset they would never have believed him.

Now lets get practical. Given all this, what does what we think of as enlightenment actually amount to? Are these teachings proposing, as they seem to be, that we give up practice altogether and somehow suddenly leap out of what we experience as suffering, by some kind of mental magic trick? That we somehow will or think ourselves into enlightenment?

No. The entire culture of practice (including meditation but also study, dharma relationships, ritual, and much more) is necessary. But not in the way we thought it was, not as a way to make things different. Rather, we practice to shift our understanding of our lives. In effect, as The Awakening of Faith puts it, “The process of actualisation of enlightenment is none other than the process of integrating the identity with the original enlightenment.”

Practice, then, is both a sudden (we have flashes of insight) and a gradual (it develops over a lifetime) identity shift. We stop seeing ourselves as the child of our parents, a poor lonely soul in a difficult world, with various conditioned imperfections, drawbacks, desires, and hopes, most of which remain unfulfilled. Instead we have confidence in our original enlightenment, which is and has always been at the centre of our lives, despite our limitations and pain. The Awakening of Faith: “The state of enlightenment is not something that is to be acquired by practice or to be created. In the end, it is unobtainable, because it has been there from the very beginning.”

This teaching about mind reminds me of a conversation I had with my mother toward the end of her life. She was dying. I knew it, everyone in our family knew it, but we didn’t talk about it because my mother didn’t like to think about it. But once, when we were having bagels and lox at a little deli near where she lived, she said to me, casually, as if it were a matter of mere curiosity, “What do Buddhists think happens after you die?”

“Well,” I said to her, “it depends on who you think you are. If you think you are just this body and mind, just these memories and experiences and relationships and thoughts, then death is very bad news. Because when you die you will lose all that. But if you think you are also more than this, something you don’t understand but somehow feel and have confidence in, then when you die that something — which was never born and so can’t die — never goes away. And that would make it easier and happier to die.”

I am not sure my mother got any comfort from those words. As I recall now, she looked more bewildered than comforted. But perhaps what I said did help toward the end, when her consciousness faded and her mind was quiet.

Certainly, the intention of the great Buddhist teachers who over the centuries have detailed these teachings on mind is not only to comfort us. They offer us these teachings on what mind really is to give us a sound basis for a way of practice that can transform our lives, and the world.

We are living in a fragile environment, and it only takes one wrong step to send our beautiful lives tumbling down the hill. Therefore, with every single step that we take, we have to be fully aware and mindful. With such an attitude we can foster happiness and work to fulfill our purpose for being in this world.

-- Zurmang Gharwang Rinpoche

自性自度

文｜行彻

佛在开悟之后，宣说了自己所发现的真理和方法，这就是著名的缘起定律。 

这个定律具有如下三个特征：第一是常住，是永恒如此；第二是法住，是必然如此；第三是法界，是普遍如此。就如《杂阿含》第296经：“若佛出世，若未出世，此法常住，法住法界。”意思是，不论佛出现在世间，还是不出现在世间，这个道理都是普遍存在的。 

一、因缘定律 

这个因缘定律是说，人生宇宙当中的任何事物，都依各种因素和条件的存在而存在。任何东西都不是无缘无故就能存在的，也不是永恒而独立的存在。如果这些因素和条件分散了，这个事物也就随之瓦解了。这也就是所谓“诸法因缘生，诸法因缘灭。”比如说，一颗种子种下去，必须加上土壤、阳光、水分、人工等助缘，才能发芽、成长、开花、结果。随着因素、条件的变化，这些事物必然有发生、发展、变化和熄灭的过程。 

因此，世间万物都是因缘和合而存在的。因，是因素； 缘，是条件。任何人命运的好坏，都是需要各种因素条件聚合起来才可以。同样，要想过上幸福的人生，就必须在心田里面种上快乐的种子。日常生活中，必须做正确的事，这样就不必为未来果报到来而发愁了。“善有善报，恶有恶报。”这是世间普遍的法则，也就是因缘定律。 

二、自作自受 

不过，不论是善行善报，还是恶行恶报，事实上，一切都是唯心所造的。心灵就像一块肥沃的土壤，在这块土地上种杂草和种庄稼，其因缘果报都是不一样的。但有一个共同原则，就是凡是因缘和合的存在，都是无自性的。一切都没有永恒不变，没有独一无二，没有主宰， 所以是无常和无我的。认识了事物无常和无我之理，就自性自度 - 行彻 - 知道一切善恶、好坏都是自己造成的，没有任何人强加，只有自己才是自己命运的主人。只有认识到这个道理，才能清醒地把握自己人生的方向，领悟生命的意义，如此才能踏实而轻松自在地生活。 

然而，在现实当中，总有一些人觉得自己的不幸或者不如意，都是外在因素造成的，因此总是在抱怨等烦恼当中度过，认为自己的挫折和痛苦都是别人造成的，但事实恰恰相反，因为他们不明白，其实外境只是自心的显现。 

一个人的苦乐遭遇，都不是偶然的，一切存在都必有它的先决条件，也就是一切唯心造。这些条件是自己的心造作出来的，制造苦乐的主因是自己，外在因素只是次要条件。那么，这个苦乐之报由谁来承受呢？还是自己，没有人会代为承受，这就是“善恶到头终有报，只看来早与来迟”的道理。 

由此可见，世间最公平的莫过于因缘定律。不论相信与否，它都像空气一般环绕着我们。当遭遇逆境时，也许有人会抱怨说：“为什么这些倒霉事总发生在我身上呢？”可何曾想过，眼前的一切不幸难道会无缘无故地发生吗？善恶因缘，果报自受，即使我们可以否认它的存在，但因果依然会公平地执行，善恶赏罚，汇聚着我们善恶的数量，就像一个显示器，会如实地播放，丝毫不爽。这就是“种瓜得瓜，种豆得豆；一切祸福，自作自受。（《警世恒言》）” 

三、自缚自解 

在《楞严经》中，阿难尊者差点出事之时，佛陀派文殊菩萨把他救回来。于是，他跪在佛前痛哭流涕，真诚忏悔，觉得自己“一向多闻，未全道力”，虽然汇集了一肚子的学问，可在现实面前，还是经不起考验。这时候，他就向佛陀请教什么是实修的入门方法。佛陀因此提出了两种根本：什么是无始生死根本？什么是无始涅槃根本？也就是无始以来的生死痛苦是怎么来的？要想解脱痛苦，应从哪里入手？佛答：人之所以一直在生死轮回中受苦，众生之所以“作茧自缚”，就是因为心总向外“攀缘”，所以才认假为真，起惑造业，流转生死。 要想脱离痛苦，就必须认识到自己原本的觉性。首先找回自己的真心，才是人生中最重要的一件事，所以“解铃还要系铃人”。 当阿难开悟之后，道理是明白了，但要如何进入实修呢？要怎样入手修行呢？在开示实修之前，佛陀提出两种决定义：首先，辨别修行的动机，应该以怎样的用心来修行；其次，选择入手处在哪里，应该从哪个根门作为入手之方便。然后探讨这心是被谁绑住的，要如何来解开。所以“解结因次第，六解一亦亡”，事实上，这个心结，是自己绑起来的，所以还必须靠自己亲自来解 开。 

四、自性自度 

宋代有两位禅门的出家人，一个叫道谦，一个叫宗圆， 他们俩相约结伴外出行脚参禅。在半路上，宗圆由于感到很辛苦，所以曾经多次产生了退却的想法。道谦禅师只好安慰他说：“都已经下了参学的决心，也走到半路，你就不要轻言放弃了。这样吧，从现在开始，在路上如果有可以替你做的事，我会尽量为你代劳，但有五件事情我是帮不上忙的——穿衣、吃饭、拉屎、撒尿、走路。”这个时候，宗圆终于明白了，从此以后再也不说辛苦。俗话说：“天上不会掉下馅饼”、“世上没有免费的午餐”，这些都说明了“善恶业果，自作自受”的道理。 俗话说：“个人吃饭个人饱，个人生死个人了”，“公修公得，婆修婆得，不修不得”。生死大事，明心见性，别人丝毫代替不了，一切都得靠自己努力、自己承受才行。

A yogi’s mind will be distracted to various objects if he cultivates only special insight without developing a calmly abiding mind. 

-- Kamalasila

What it Means to be a Buddhist

by Anam Thubten Rinpoche

As citizens of Earth, we have layers of identity that make us unique from those around us as well as affiliating us with certain groups. Religion usually plays an important role in forging our personal identity. In developed countries, you don’t necessarily have to subscribe to a particular organised religion, although the same is not true in countries where theocratic governments demand that their citizens pledge allegiance to a particular faith. Moreover, the law in these societies doesn’t permit people to convert from one religion to another — such governments often have a declared state religion that allows adherents from other traditions to join, but not the other way around.

Then there is Buddhism, which is in many respects a unique tradition. Some practitioners do not regard it as a religion, but more as a way of life,  a journey to inner awakening founded by the Buddha. Many contemporary Buddhists will say that Buddhism is more Dharma than religion. Obviously, Buddhism in the West is evolving as a spiritual path that is non-dogmatic and values the internal development of love and wisdom over doctrine. This is a trend that is also beginning to emerge in Asia. It is simply a matter of time before it becomes more widespread.

There are now millions and millions of people across the world who identify as Buddhists. For many of them it is because they were born into a culture that itself identifies as Buddhist, although this does not mean that they automatically understand the depth of the Buddha’s teachings. Identifying as a Buddhist is a tricky business when one does not truly understand what Buddhism is. It must be more than worshipping statues, or visiting temples on holy occasions or when one seeks divine intervention in the midst of a personal catastrophe such as losing a loved one, falling ill, or encountering a serious mishap.

In the purest sense, to be a Buddhist means to be someone who follows the teachings of Shakyamuni Buddha, such as the Noble Eightfold Path. Some might say that taking the vow of refuge is a bona fide initiation that renders someone a Buddhist overnight. This makes the process sound quite simple. Usually, performing a refuge ceremony can be done in less than half an hour, but is the ceremonial repeating of the vows after a Dharma teacher and receiving a symbolic haircut sufficient for someone to be transformed into a new Buddhist? Most ordinations in the Buddhist tradition require preparatory steps before one can even become a candidate. And there must be proper intention and right understanding about the path that one is preparing to embark upon. Merely participating in such an initiation ceremony is not the complete rite of passage to becoming a true student of the Buddha.

There is also the danger of turning Buddhism into an “ethnic” religion — when someone becomes a Buddhist by the sheer merit of being born in a Buddhist country or culture. Buddhism is not an ethnic religion; the Buddha himself stated that caste and race are irrelevant in his sangha, or holy community. For him, what matters most is understanding the Dharma that he discovered. During his lifetime, the Buddha welcomed men, women, Brahmins, and “untouchables,” transcending all of these divisions in the world of his Dharma. This all-embracing spirit resonates with many people still considered “untouchables” in today’s India. When the celebrated Indian scholar, activist, and social reformer Dr. B. R. Ambedkar (1891–1956) was searching for a new spiritual tradition for himself and his fellow Dalits, in the end he found that Buddhism was the most appealing because its egalitarian philosophy would accept his people no matter their race or caste.

As Buddhists, we should not turn this identity into a barricade that separates us from so-called non-Buddhists. Instead, we can adopt this identity as a way of reminding ourselves that we are studying and practising the teachings of the Buddha. Then we will be able to feel unity with the rest of humanity, while remaining deeply committed to the Buddhadharma. Humanity is confronting many issues that no single country or group of people can deal with, such as rampant poverty, ecological crises, sectarian violence, and many more. I feel that this is an important time for all of us to make our best effort not to divide humanity, but to bring everyone together.

Our identities are not as permanent as they might seem. They can be constructed and deconstructed as we go through changes over the course of our lives. A friend of mine has a daughter who decided to undergo gender reassignment surgery. I met her a few years ago when she told her parents about her desire to become a man. Very recently, I met the same person again, except this time I related to her as him. Not only that, he took the vow of refuge from me. He now has this colourful identity in the eyes of the public, something like a transgender Buddhist dude. Similarly, in the United States, there are many Jews who choose to become Buddhists, some of whom refer to themselves as a “Jewbu.” There is a humour in it; it shows that our identities are not fixed like letters carved in stone. They have fluidity if we have the willingness to play with them and not to become too attached.

If the Buddha were alive today, what would he call himself? This question can be a koan and if you contemplate it long enough, you might lose lots of the identity that you’re holding onto right now. In short, we must treat the identity of being a Buddhist as sacred and use it with a deep understanding of what it entails. There is a dimension of reality in which we cannot be easily be placed into a pigeonhole of identity and the Buddha invited us to journey into that dimension unconditioned, unmade, and un-become. This is a realm in which we transcend the day-to-day notions of identity and are in touch with our unborn nature.

Just realising the meaning of mind encompasses all understanding; whereas knowing everything without realising the meaning of mind is the worst (ignorance).

-- Jamgon Kongtrul Lodro Thaye

禅修就是读懂生命这本书

如孝法师

我们为什么要禅修？

是为了找到我们生命中最真切的那份感受。

我们的念头此起彼伏，带给我们的感受一半是快乐，一半是痛苦。这是因为上错了火车，这列火车把我们带入痛苦或快乐的境界。虽然外在的客观环境不断地变化，犹如白天和黑夜的轮转，但是我们内在的心情可以和这“火车头”永远地断开。

生命有内在和外在两个方面，我们成熟的标志就是由外在向内转化，寻求真实的生命意义和内在的觉醒，生命活得越来越有方向，越来越有底气。所以，禅修是内在的、对于自我深刻的认知。如果对内有所认知，我们就能够正确地知道该上哪趟车。比如，如果这趟列车是开往重庆的，而你的目的地是义乌，你就不会上错车。

我们要睁开双眼看清楚生命的快乐，让生命变得有意义，拥有主动而非裹挟的人生。无论外在是怎样的因缘，内在都要学会与自己的心互动。无论我们的年龄、身份或感受，都不能代表我们掌握了生命的主动权。

通过禅修，让我们的心变得充满活力，去除掉多年沉积下来的污垢。禅对于即将步入中年的朋友们来说非常重要。随着经历不断地增加，总有一天，我们感受到难以撬动生命的记忆，而这些深刻的记忆，不论是美好的，还是不美好的，终将占据我们的内在空间。通过禅修，为生命的内存清理出一些有效的空间。

大多数人不了解禅修，不知道禅修是世界上最简单、最有效、会给我们自身带来不可限量的利益的体验。如果知道禅修对生命的帮助，我相信所有的人都能够接受。通过禅修，我们的心会充满自在，无论伴随什么样的人生起伏，生命现象和变化，内心都会获得安宁和支撑，都能支撑我们和家人。

佛陀的伟大不在于发现了真理，而在于给了我们认识自己的方法，这是不可思议的。智慧在每个人的内心深处，我们要用心读懂自己生命的这本书，人生的一切都写在里面了。这样，我们原来拥有的一切会更加健全、完善，而现在的付出会变成一种享受。

我们不要怕苦，禅修不苦；不要怕难，禅修不难；不要怕没有结果，只要肯付出，一定会有结果。世间所有的事情，唯有禅修，是你种多少，就收多少；努力多少，一定得到多少。所以，我们要有方向、有信心，对生命要有高度的警觉，要培养这种警觉。

在忙碌的人生中，能够得到片刻的宁静，是我们过去世以及今世无量无边利益他人得到的果。从另一个角度看，尽管我们曾经做过善行，但如果不禅修，就好像把钱存在银行里而不花。我们要受用我们的人生，如果不用这笔资粮，我们的人生就没有内在的快乐和质量可言，就会很可惜。所以，我们要对禅修有信心。

All the suffering and joy we experience depend on conditions.

-- Bodhidharma

Don’t Let Hatred Destroy Your Practice

by His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama

The first verse of Shantideva’s “Patience” chapter, in his Guide to the Bodhisattva’s Way of Life, reads:

Whatever wholesome deeds,

Such as venerating the buddhas and [practising] generosity,

That have been amassed over a thousand aeons,

Will all be destroyed in one moment of anger.

The implication of this first verse is that in order for the individual practitioner to be able to successfully cultivate patience and tolerance, what is required is a very strong enthusiasm, a strong desire, because the stronger one’s enthusiasm the greater the ability to withstand the hardships encountered in the process. Not only that, but one also will be prepared to voluntarily accept hardships that are a necessary part of the path.

The first stage, then, is to generate this strong enthusiasm, and for that what is required is to reflect upon the destructive nature of anger and hatred, as well as the positive effects of patience and tolerance.

In this text, one reads that the generation of anger or hatred, even for a single instant, has the capacity to destroy virtues collected over a thousand aeons. Another text, Entry into the Middle Way by Chandrakirti, states that a single instant of anger or hatred will destroy virtues accumulated over a hundred aeons. The difference between these two texts is explained from the point of view of the object of one’s anger or hatred. If the object of one’s anger or hatred is a bodhisattva on a high level of the path, and the person who is being hateful or angry is not a bodhisattva, then the amount of virtue that will be destroyed is greater. On the other hand, if a bodhisattva generates anger toward another bodhisattva, maybe the virtue destroyed would be less.

However, when we say that virtues accumulated over aeons are destroyed by a single instant of anger, we have to identify what sort of virtues are destroyed. Both this text and Entry into the Middle Way agree that it is only the meritorious virtues — not so much the wisdom aspect but rather the method aspect of the path — that are destroyed. In particular, these include virtues accumulated through practising giving or generosity as well as virtues accumulated on the basis of observing an ethically disciplined way of life. On the other hand, virtues accumulated through the practice of wisdom, such as generating insight into the ultimate nature of reality, and virtues accumulated through meditative practices, wisdom acquired through meditation, remain beyond the scope of destruction by anger and hatred.

The second verse reads:

There is no evil like hatred,

And no fortitude like patience.

Thus I should strive in various ways

To meditate on patience.

Generally speaking, there are many afflictive emotions such as conceit, arrogance, jealousy, desire, lust, closed-mindedness, and so on, but of all these, hatred or anger is singled out as the greatest evil. This is done for two reasons.

One is that hatred or anger is the greatest stumbling block for a practitioner who is aspiring to enhance his or her bodhicitta — altruistic aspiration and a good heart. Anger or hatred is the greatest obstacle to that.

Second, when hatred and anger are generated they have the capacity to destroy one’s virtue and calmness of mind. It is due to these reasons that hatred is considered to be the greatest evil.

According to Buddhist psychology, hatred is one of the six root afflictive emotions. The Tibetan word for it is zhe dang, which can be translated as either “anger” or “hatred” in English. However, I feel that it should be translated as “hatred,” because “anger,” as it is understood in English, can be positive in very special circumstances. These occur when anger is motivated by compassion or when it acts as an impetus or a catalyst for a positive action. In such rare circumstances, anger can be positive, whereas hatred can never be positive. It is totally negative.

Since hatred is totally negative, it should never be used to translate the Tibetan word zhe dang when it appears in the context of tantra. Sometimes we hear the expression “taking hatred into the path.” This is a mistranslation. In this context, hatred is not the right word; one should use “anger”: “taking anger into the path.” So the Tibetan word can be translated as either “anger” or “hatred,” but “anger” can be positive; therefore, when zhe dang refers to the afflictive emotion it must be translated as “hatred.”

The last two lines of the second verse read:

Thus I should strive in various ways

To meditate on patience.

Since the goal is the enhancement of one’s capacity for tolerance and the practice of patience, what is required is to be able to counteract the forces of anger and hatred, particularly hatred. One should use all sorts of techniques to increase one’s familiarity with patience. These include not only real-life situations, but also using one’s imagination to visualise a situation and then see how one will react and respond to it. Again and again one should try to combat hatred and develop one’s capacity for tolerance and patience.

My mind will not experience peace

If it fosters painful thoughts of hatred.

I shall find no joy or happiness;

Unable to sleep, I shall feel unsettled.

This verse outlines the destructive effects of hatred, which are very visible, very obvious and immediate. For example, when a strong or forceful thought of hatred arises, at that very instant it overwhelms one totally and destroys one’s peace and presence of mind. When that hateful thought is harboured inside, it makes one feel tense and uptight, and can cause loss of appetite, leading to loss of sleep, and so forth.

Generally speaking, I believe that the purpose of our existence is to seek happiness and fulfilment. Even from the Buddhist point of view, when we speak of the four factors of happiness, or four factors of fulfilment, the first two are related to the attainment of joy and happiness in worldly terms, leaving aside ultimate religious or spiritual aspirations such as liberation and enlightenment. The first two factors deal with joy and happiness as we understand them conventionally, in worldly terms. In order to more fully experience that level of joy and happiness, the key is one’s state of mind. However, there are various factors that contribute to attaining that level of joy and happiness, ones we conventionally also recognise as sources of happiness, such as good physical health, which is considered one of the factors necessary for a happy life. Another factor is the wealth that we accumulate. Conventionally, we regard this as a source of joy and happiness. The third factor is to have friends or companions. We conventionally recognise that in order to enjoy a happy and fulfilled life, we also need a circle of friends we trust and with whom we can relate emotionally.

Now all of these are, in reality, sources of happiness, but in order for one to be able to fully utilise them with the goal of enjoying a happy and fulfilled life, one’s state of mind is crucial. If one harbours hateful thoughts within, or strong or intense anger somewhere deep down, then it ruins one’s health, so it destroys one of the factors. Even if one has wonderful possessions, when one is in an intense moment of anger or hatred, one feels like throwing them — breaking them or throwing them away. So there is no guarantee that wealth alone can give one the joy or fulfilment that one seeks. Similarly, when one is in an intense state of anger or hatred, even a very close friend appears somehow “frosty,” cold and distant, or quite annoying.

What this indicates is that our state of mind is crucial in determining whether or not we gain joy and happiness. So leaving aside the perspective of dharma practice, even in worldly terms of our enjoying a happy day-to-day existence, the greater the level of calmness of our mind, the greater our peace of mind, and the greater our ability to enjoy a happy and joyful life.

However, when we speak of a calm state of mind or peace of mind, we should not confuse that with a completely insensitive, apathetic state in which there is no feeling, like being “spaced out” or completely empty. That is not what we mean by having a calm state of mind or peace of mind.

Genuine peace of mind is rooted in affection and compassion. There is a very high level of sensitivity and feeling involved. So long as we lack inner discipline, an inner calmness of mind, then no matter what external facilities or conditions we may have, they will never give us the feeling of joy and happiness that we seek. On the other hand, if we possess this inner quality — that is, calmness of mind, a degree of stability within — then even if we lack various external facilities that are normally considered necessary for a happy and joyful life, it is still possible to live a happy and joyful life.

If we examine how anger or hateful thoughts arise in us, we will find that, generally speaking, they arise when we feel hurt, when we feel that we have been unfairly treated by someone against our expectations. If in that instant we examine carefully the way anger arises, there is a sense that it comes as a protector, comes as a friend that would help our battle or in taking revenge against the person who has inflicted harm on us. So the anger or hateful thought that arises appears to come as a shield or a protector. But in reality that is an illusion. It is a very delusory state of mind.

Chandrakirti states in Entry into the Middle Way that there might be some justification for responding to force with force if revenge would help one in any way, or prevent or reduce the harm that has already been inflicted. But that is not the case, because if the harm, the physical injury or whatever, has been inflicted, it has already taken place. So taking revenge will not in any way reduce or prevent that harm or injury. It has already happened.

On the contrary, if one reacts to a situation in a negative way instead of in a tolerant way, not only is there no immediate benefit, but also a negative attitude and feeling is created that is the seed of one’s future downfall. From the Buddhist point of view, the consequence of taking revenge has to be faced by the individual alone in his or her future life. So not only is there no immediate benefit, it is harmful in the long run for the individual.

However, if one has been treated very unfairly and if the situation is left unaddressed, it may have extremely negative consequences for the perpetrator of the crime. Such a situation calls for a strong counteraction. Under such circumstances, it is possible that one can, out of compassion for the perpetrator of the crime — and without generating anger or hatred — actually take a strong stand and take strong countermeasures. In fact, one of the precepts of the bodhisattva vows is to take strong countermeasures when the situation calls for it. If a bodhisattva doesn’t take strong countermeasures when the situation requires, then that constitutes an infraction of one of the vows.

In addition, as Entry into the Middle Way points out, not only does the generation of hateful thoughts lead to undesirable forms of existence in future lives, but also, at the moment that strong feelings of anger arise, no matter how hard one tries to adopt a dignified pose, one’s face looks rather ugly. There is an unpleasant expression, and the vibration that the person sends is very hostile. People can sense it, and it is almost as if one can feel steam coming out of that person’s body. Indeed, not only are human beings capable of sensing it, but pets and other animals also try to avoid that person at that instant.

These are the immediate consequences of hatred. It brings about a very ugly, unpleasant physical transformation of the individual. In addition, when such intense anger and hatred arise, it makes the best part of our brain, which is the ability to judge between right and wrong and assess long term and short-term consequences, become totally inoperable. It can no longer function. It is almost as if the person has become crazy. These are the negative effects of generating anger and hatred. When we think about these negative and destructive effects of anger and hatred, we realise that it is necessary to distance ourselves from such emotional explosions.

Insofar as the destructive effects of anger and hateful thoughts are concerned, one cannot be protected by wealth; even if one is a millionaire, one is subject to these destructive effects of anger and hatred. Nor can education guarantee that one will be protected from these effects. Similarly, the law cannot guarantee protection. Even nuclear weapons, no matter how sophisticated the defence system may be, cannot give one protection or defend one from these effects.

QUESTION & ANSWER WITH THE DALAI LAMA

The only factor that can give refuge or protection from the destructive effects of anger and hatred is the practice of tolerance and patience.

Q: How do we judge when a strong countermeasure is required and what it will be? Please describe what we can learn from your actions in response to the Tibetan genocide.

A: One of the reasons there is a need to adopt a strong countermeasure against someone who harms you is that if you let it pass, there is a danger of that person becoming habituated to extremely negative actions, which in the long run will cause that person’s own downfall and is very destructive for the individual himself or herself. Therefore a strong countermeasure, taken out of compassion or a sense of concern for the other, is necessary. When you are motivated by that realisation, then there is a sense of concern as part of your motive for taking that strong measure.

In terms of the way we have been dealing with the Chinese government, we have always tried to avoid negative emotions. We consciously make it a point not to let our emotions overwhelm us. So even if there is a likelihood of some feeling of anger arising, we deliberately check ourselves and try to reduce that, and try to deliberately develop a feeling of compassion toward the Chinese.

One of the reasons why there is some ground to feel compassionate toward a perpetrator of crime or an aggressor is that the aggressor, because he or she is perpetrating a crime, is at the causal stage, accumulating the causes and conditions that later lead to undesirable consequences. So from that point of view, there is enough ground to feel compassionate toward the aggressor.

It is through this type of reflection that we try to deal with the Chinese. And you are right — one can say that this is an example of how one can deal with hatred and aggression. At the same time, we never lose sight of the importance of holding firmly to our own principles and adopting the strong measures that are necessary.

Often when I counteract hatred, even without feeling hatred myself, it seems to increase the other person’s hatred. How can I deal with this?

I think that is a very good question. In such cases, we have to decide on the spot, according to the situation. This requires sensitivity to the actual context and situation. In some cases, you are right, by taking a strong countermeasure, even without feeling hatred, it might increase the intensity of the other person’s feeling of hatred and anger. If that is the case, then perhaps it is possible to let it pass and not take a strong countermeasure.

However, here you have to judge the consequences of your response to a situation. If it is going to make the other person develop a bad habit of repeating the same pattern of action in the future, which will be destructive in the long term, then it may call for a strong countermeasure. But if taking a strong countermeasure will aggravate the situation and increase the other person’s anger and hatred, then perhaps what the situation requires is a kind of letting go, letting it pass, and not taking a strong countermeasure. So you need a sensitivity to particular situations.

This is analogous to the Buddhist principle that, so far as your own personal requirements are concerned, the ideal is to have fewer involvements, fewer obligations, and fewer affairs, businesses, or whatever. However, so far as the interest of the larger community is concerned, you must have as many involvements as possible and as many activities as possible.

How do we teach patience to our children? How should we react to anger in our children?

It is very difficult to explain in words to a child the value of patience and the importance of it. What is crucial here is to set a good example for our children. If you yourself are always short-tempered and lose your temper even at the slightest provocation, and then you try to teach children, saying, “Oh, you must be patient, patience is important,” it won’t have any effect at all.

As to how you should react or respond to anger in children, it is very difficult for me to say, but many of the general principles outlined in the text that teach you how to develop patience would be applicable, even in those circumstances.

If there is no extreme form of patience that is a weakness, how can a bodhisattva take a strong counteraction?

There may be a slight misunderstanding of what is meant by a bodhisattva. One should not have the impression that a bodhisattva is a very weak person. In fact, bodhisattvas can be seen as the most courageous beings. They are very determined and firm in their principles. Even conventionally, if people do not tolerate having their toes stepped on and do not tolerate being slighted, if they always take immediate action and stand firm, we consider them courageous and strong, to have strength of character. If that is the case, then bodhisattvas are beings who have made a pledge or developed the determination that they will combat the evils that exist in the minds of all sentient beings. In a way, that is a kind of arrogance, but it is, of course, based on sound reason. This type of courageous attitude is in some sense arrogant, but not in a negative way.

If we read the aspirational prayers composed by the bodhisattvas, such as the “Dedication” chapter of Guide to the Bodhisattva’s Way of Life, we find that bodhisattvas have many aspirations that in reality cannot be realised. Nonetheless, they have this kind of vision and aspiration. So I consider them heroes. I think they are very, very courageous sentient beings. I do not consider this a weakness at all. Bodhisattvas have that kind of outlook, and they are definitely capable of taking strong countermeasures when necessary.

When we dedicate the merit from past practices, is it destroyed by present anger or hatred?

If your dedication is complemented by factors of very strong aspiration to attain liberation, or complemented by the factor of bodhicitta, altruistic aspiration, or a realisation of the empty nature of phenomena, then, of course, the merit will remain beyond the scope of destruction and will be protected.

Dedication is a very important element of practice in the Buddhist path. We find that in Maitreya’s Ornament of Clear Realisations, when he outlines the proper manner in which dedication should be practised, he points out that when you dedicate merit, you must have a very strong motivation of bodhicitta, dedicating your merit for the benefit of all sentient beings. In addition, while you do the dedication, you should have clear realisation of the empty nature of phenomena, the illusion-like nature of phenomena. Once you have dedicated merit, it should be “sealed” by the recognition that the agent is inherently empty, and that both this very act and the object of your act are also inherently empty. That is what is called “being sealed by the three spheres.” So through these practices, you can protect the merit.

In order for one’s dharma practice to be effective and powerful, it is not enough to concentrate on one aspect of the practice alone. What is required are many complementary factors, the wisdoms, the dedications, and so on. This is particularly true in the approach of the Mahayana path.

We need to practice with the motivation of bodhicitta. You must think that you are practicing Dharma not merely for your own benefit, but in order to liberate all beings from samsara. If you lack this basis of altruism, there is no basis for acquiring the qualities of secret mantra practices. The only basis for the qualities of secret mantra is the motivation of bodhicitta. You need to possess this motivation of bodhicitta at the beginning, the end and throughout your practice. If you possess bodhicitta, then loving kindness and compassion will arise automatically.

-- Khenpo Karthar Rinpoche

布施的回报

文｜继平

布施是佛教六度之一，也是佛教信徒积功累德的最好方式，佛教一向注重培养佛教徒的布施之心。在佛教中，布施是指施与他人以财物、体力、智慧等，为他人造福成智而求得累积功德，以致解脱之一种修行方法。布施分为财施、法施和无畏施三种：财施，即以财物去救济疾病贫苦的人；法施，即以正法去劝人修善断恶；无畏施，即不顾虑自己的安危去解除别人的怖畏。

布施能使人远离贪心，布施作为一种乐善好施的行为，从表面看是自己财物受到了损失，但是你却为自己求得了功德，而且还会受到施者的尊重与感激，使你感觉到心灵的富足，有时还能够使你得到意想不到的幸福回报。

一天，一个贫穷的小男孩为了攒够学费，正挨家挨户地推销商品，劳累了一整天的他此时感到十分饥饿，但摸遍全身，却只有一角钱，怎么办呢？他决定向下一户人家讨口饭吃。

当一位美丽的年轻女子打开房门的时候，这个小男孩却有点不知所措了，他没有要饭，只乞求给他一口水喝。这位女子看到他很饥饿的样子，就拿了一大杯牛奶给他。男孩慢慢地喝完牛奶，问道：“我应该付多少钱？” 年轻女子回答：“一分钱也不用付。妈妈教导我们，施以爱心，不图回报。”男孩说：“那么，就请接受我由衷的感谢吧！”说完男孩离开了这户人家，此时，他不仅感到自己浑身是劲儿，而且还看到光明正朝他走来，那种男子汉的豪气像山洪一样迸发出来。

其实，男孩本来是打算退学的。

数年之后，那位年轻女子得了一种罕见的重病，当地的医生对此束手无策，最后，她被转到大城市医治，由专家会诊治疗。当年的那个小男孩如今已是大名鼎鼎的霍华德·凯利医生，他也参与了医治方案的制定，当看到病历上所写的病人的来历时，一个奇怪的念头霎时间闪过他的脑际，他马上起身直奔病房。

来到病房，凯利医生一眼就认出床上躺着的病人，就是那位曾经帮助过他的恩人。他回到自己的办公室，决心一定要竭尽所能来治好恩人的病，从那天起，他就特别关照这个病人，经过艰辛的努力，手术成功了，凯利医生要求把医药费通知单送到他那里，在通知单的旁边，签了字。

当医药费通知单送到这位特殊的病人手中时，她不敢看，因为她确信，治病的费用将会花去她的全部家当。最后，她还是鼓起勇气，翻开医药费通知单，旁边的那行小字引起了她的注意，她不禁轻声读出：医药费— 一满杯牛奶。　　

霍华德·凯利医生故事中的小姑娘因为一杯牛奶的布施功德，使她在生病时得到凯利医生的特殊照顾，甚至替她支付了难以承受的医药费用。

在佛教界，因布施而得到回报的例子不胜枚举。

从前，有一对贫穷的夫妇，靠着做佣工来维持生计。

一天，丈夫看见一些长者们前往寺院里参加供僧法会，回到家后，想着、想着，不禁哭了起来， 妻子觉得很奇怪，就问他：“什么事让你这么伤心呢？”丈夫回答：“唉！看到别人能够满心欢喜的供僧修福，而自己却是贫穷下贱，连修福报的机会都没有！”妻子便安慰他：“别再伤心了，于事无补，不如把我卖了，卖来的钱就可以布施供养！你看怎么样？”丈夫更伤心了：“如果把你卖了，我岂不是更加难过！”

于是，妻子想了想，又说：“干脆我们一起卖身为奴，不仅可以供养，还可在一起修行。”这下，丈夫同意了。于是，夫妇俩找到一个富贵人家，向主人借一笔钱，来办一场供僧法会，这笔钱如果无法在七天内还清，他们就必须永远在这户人家当奴仆。得到了钱后，贫穷的夫妇便开始不眠不休地筹备法会，并且互相勉励：“现在还能够随自己的心意来修福，应该好好把握因缘，往后的一切就很难预料了！”

到了第六天，眼看所有的事都已就绪，寺里却收到了一个讯息：国王也要在同一天举行法会。比丘们都认为，应该先将机会让给穷夫妇，然而，国王知道后，非常愤怒：“是哪一家小民，胆敢跟我抢日子！”立刻命令他们改期。这对穷夫妇虽然无奈，却是坚持不改。

国王不得不召见穷夫妇，要他们说出个理由。穷夫妇便把事情的原委一五一十的禀告国王，并恳求国王：“我们今生如此穷苦，就是因为过去没修福报，这辈子恐怕只剩这一天还能自由作主，以后，就没有机会了，所以我们极力争取！请求国王成全。”听了这对夫妇真诚的发心，国王不禁心生怜悯，不但准许他们如期进行法会，更赏赐财宝，还划了十个村落让他们居住和管理。

这对夫妇原本很贫穷，为了布施斋僧，诚心以身为奴，偿还向主人借的钱。因为这种布施的诚心，感动了国王，不仅得到国王赏赐的金银财宝，而且，还得以管理十个村落。他们的生活也因此得到了改变。

东汉著名文学家和书法家催瑗在其《座右铭》中说：“施人慎勿念，受恩慎莫忘。”铭文告诉我们，在我们周围，都有需要我们帮助的人。对于别人的困难，我们应当生起怜悯同情之心，并尽自己的能力布施那些需要受助的人。

人活在世上，谁都难免遇到各种各样的困难，当人遇到困难的时候，我们都需要得到别人的帮助来改变自己的处境。我们在困难时如果得到别人的帮助，就应当牢记在心，并在自己力所能及的情况下，回报别人的恩德，并将自己所受的恩惠传递给那些需要帮助的人。这样，你在布施人时，将来会得到回报；你接受别人布施时，也会想到回报他人。

对于布施，正确的做法，应当如《菜根谭》所言：施恩者，内不见己，外不见人，则斗粟可当万钟之报；利物者，计己之施，责人之报，虽百镒难成一文之功。

所以，只有当你怀着施无望报的心思去布施于人时，你才会得到令你意想不到的丰厚回报。

Bodhichitta is the root of the sublime dharma. One cannot be without bodhichitta if one wants to attain liberation and the state of omniscience. Bodhichitta is primary among the methods of dharma practice.

-- Yangthang Rinpoche

Our Path Is Limitless and Vast

by Joan Sutherland

Consider how many sentences you could write containing the words “dharma” and “women.” When I put them together, the next word that wants to come into the sentence is “potential.” My thoughts on this are inspired by Irshad Manji’s comment that some Muslim women are exploring not just what there is to learn, absorb, and follow in their tradition, but what there is to love about it.

A couple of provisos: Here I’m speaking largely from the experience of what have been called Western converts — women who have chosen Buddhism rather than been born into it. Since we represent a tiny fraction of the world’s female Buddhists, this is meant as a small offering to a large, ongoing conversation. Second, I make a distinction between Buddhism and the dharma. By Buddhism I mean the institutions and orthodoxies that have developed over the last 2,500 years. Even that’s tricky, because, as many have commented, we should probably be talking about a constellation of Buddhisms rather than something monolithic. By the dharma I mean the fundamental teachings of the tradition, and the ways the expressions of those teachings have evolved over generations and geography. That’s really tricky, because people tend to define dharma based on what room in the mansion of Buddhism they’re standing in. Here I’m looking at dharma from the still-under-construction, cooking-while-we’re-building kitchen of Western convert experience.

The fact that we’re making a home in this lively, sometimes chaotic kitchen, whose blueprint is covered with sticky notes, is where the potential for women comes in. We can eat; we can cook; we can revise the architectural plans. In other words, as practitioners we can apply the insights and practices refined over millennia to our contemporary lives in what a Chan teacher called “wise digestion”; we can serve the tradition and our companions on the Way as leaders and teachers; and we can offer unprecedented and innovative expressions of the tradition, in everything from how we organise as communities to how we teach the teachings. There is nothing in the dharma — as opposed to some of the institutions of Buddhism — that limits women’s participation. On the contrary, as Rita Gross has pointed out, Buddhist institutions are being challenged to live up to the highest ideals and truest meanings of the dharma upon which they were founded. For many, it is deeply meaningful to be part of a process in which the realisation of individual women and the realisation of the fuller potential of a great tradition are so intimately linked.

We live in a world that needs our hands, our hearts, and our minds. We live in a world that looks like it could use a bit more of what the dharma offers. It is here, in our more fully realised ability to be genuinely helpful as individuals and communities, that the true meal will be served out of our kitchen. As this unfolds, each of us will find her own place on the eat–cook–revise-the-plans continuum. Here are a few examples of why all this matters, why there is such potential at the intersection of women and the dharma.

When I meet with a group of women for tea to talk about this, we begin with the comment that the teachings and practices of the dharma are a touchstone, a way of making sense of the world and one’s existence in it. That theme — how the dharma can illuminate and knit together our inner lives and our lives in the world — threads through the conversation. How are we keeping our balance when the ground beneath our feet feels so unstable? How does that balance help us act on our commitment to the other beings with whom we share this planet and to the generations that will follow us?

As bell hooks expresses it in an essay in Women Practising Buddhism: “Thinking outside the box of dualism and living a practice of equanimity gives my life balance. But more than that, spiritual practice is the circle surrounding [my] work, the force empowering me to open my heart, to be Buddha, to have a practice of compassion that joins rather than separates, that takes the broken bits and pieces of our damaged self and world, bringing them together.”

The women having tea together express what so many others do: Loving the world-as-it-is is both our deepest aspiration and our greatest challenge. There are so many reasons not to. We feel the sorrow and pain deeply but don’t know how to respond in a way that would matter. Or we’re overwhelmed with just trying to survive in the midst of trouble. Or we’re afraid we’ll lose the fragile gains in self-determination we’ve worked so hard for. There’s no magic wand in any wisdom tradition to instantly “solve” these dilemmas, because we have to live our way into and through them. These aren’t problems to be fixed; they are life itself. How can the dharma be helpful in living our way into reconciling our aspiration and our challenge?

The dharma is a path made of inquiry rather than dogma. From the very beginning, the invitation has been to hold the teachings up to our experiences and see how they illuminate each other. Because it’s non-dogmatic, the dharma is a way of looking that doesn’t presuppose what we’ll see. It’s not trying to impose a worldview but offers tools to relate to the world more realistically, with curiosity and flexibility. We can inhabit rooms in the mansion of Buddhism that are religious, rooms that have no religion in them at all, and rooms that allow us to have religious beliefs in traditions other than Buddhism. It’s up to each of us to find our place. In any case, there is no infallible, unchanging Word of God. We have an evolving tradition with a tremendously rich body of philosophy and literature whose insights are proven anew by each practitioner, and the tradition’s founder was a person whose awakening is available to us all.

The dharma’s lack of dogmatism, which is not always perfectly realised by Buddhism, is a crucial part of any offering we can make to public life. We so clearly see what happens when unbridled passions and tightly held beliefs are reified and sent into contention with each other, in seemingly endless chains of reactions to reactions. An example of what the dharma offers in both our personal and public lives is the ability to differentiate between reaction and response. Reaction is self-centred — its primary interest is what something means to the self. It replaces what’s actually happening with how we feel and think about what’s happening. We’ve stepped out of the first order of experience — what’s happening — and into a second order — how we react to it — instead of realising that our reaction is part of the experience itself, but only one part, no more or less important than anything else. This is, of course, magnified exponentially in groups of people. With the practices of meditation and inquiry we’re more able to stay in the first order of experience, so that we can respond to circumstances in all their complexity rather than to fixate on our reactions. The inner and outer worlds become less divided, less contentious, even in difficult circumstances.

A question that almost always comes up when women talk about the dharma is how the idea of no-self relates to our ongoing work of examining the expectations, both inner and outer, of what it means to be a woman in a particular culture. If we’ve worked so hard to reclaim our sense of self — to understand in a truer way our longings and talents, and to clarify what we want to offer and what we won’t tolerate anymore — do we have to give all that up?

In Women Practising Buddhism, Hilda Ryümon Gutiérrez Baldoquín offers a dharmic take on the problem: “It is the nature of oppression to obscure the limitless essence, the vastness of who we are.” When we include this with the familiar political, cultural, and psychological analyses of oppression, it opens a new way of seeing. It points to the true meaning of no-self, which isn’t that the individual ceases to exist or to matter; it is the absence of our habitual ways of thinking about ourselves, making way for a much larger reality to become visible. We see that the “self” made up of experiences, thoughts, feelings, and sensations is just that—an ever-changing creation of inner and outer conditions.

In the moments when our exclusive identification with that self is loosened, we find that there is also something unconditioned and uncreated about our being. It is limitless, and completely connected. So when we talk about realising the true Self, just how large is it? It is bees, freeways, skies, galaxies; there is nothing outside it, and when we do good or when we do harm, we realise, there is no self and other, only two expressions of the one Self in relationship.

This vast view of no-self has application to the everyday moments of our lives. For example, the Zen koan tradition speaks of a true person of no rank, which means someone not bound by a sense of their status, and not bound by any other definition arising from job, family relations, political affiliation, etc. Such a true person is not coming from a predetermined position, such as expert or inadequate, helper or helped — and she sees everybody else like that, too. She doesn’t yet know the end of the story, and she’s interested to participate in discovering it.

When we apply this to the question of self-determination, suddenly we’re not thinking along a self-sacrifice/self-assertion axis in which we’re valiantly intent on replacing damaging roles with healthier ones; we’ve jumped off that axis into the freedom of having no predetermined role at all. Instead of trying to reform something, we’re radically re-visioning it. A true person of no-self is no longer defined by either inner or outer expectations, or her struggles with them; she encounters situations freshly, without prejudging her role in them or their ultimate outcome.

This is a generous way to live, both inwardly and outwardly. The courage it takes arises from our experience of the “vastness of who we are,” which is half of what dharma practice is about. When we bring in the other half — discovering the specific forms that generosity and courage take in each of our lives — we begin to reconcile aspiration and challenge. With less reaction and more responsiveness, with a longer view and a steadier heart, we are better able to remain open to this breathtakingly beautiful and wounded world, and to imagine how we might be helpful.

As we do so, it’s immeasurably valuable to be able to stand on the steady ground of tradition. Some of us are satisfied to concentrate on exploring that terrain; some want to help shape the kitchen we’re building from it. By differentiating between the dharma and the institutions of Buddhism, we can look with fresh eyes at what forms the dharma’s ancient helpfulness wants to take now. Some of the most important opportunities at the intersection of Buddhism and the modern world are exactly where many women aspire to make a contribution — fully including the feeling life; encouraging innovative forms of teaching and learning; redefining what authority means and how it should function; creating new forms of community and engagement with the world, including a commitment to truer diversity in our communities; continuing to reformulate lay practice as a complete realisation of spiritual life; and placing at the centre of the Way our commitment to all who share this world with us, now and in the future. Dharma, women, potential. Please write your own sentence.

You too shall pass away. Knowing this, how can you quarrel?

-- The Buddha

让这四种观念常存你心

慧律法师

佛经有指示我们应该怎么修，叫做四念处，四念处，四念处就是说你的心二十四个小时，要以这四种观念常常存在你的心，免造恶业。

第一、观身不净，佛陀为了要破除这个我相，破除众生相，破除我们的贪心，第一个你一定要观照身体是不干净的，五种不净观，第一就是种子不净，就是父精母血交媾，种子不净，生处不净就是母亲的产道不清净，相不净，生出来的那种相污秽，第四叫做性不净，性不净就是整个身体统统不干净，再来就是究竟不净，从种子生出相到性不净，这个性就是整体统统不净，究竟不净就是你怎么看统统是不清净的身体，能够透视这一关，我们的烦恼就会少 。

还有九想观的不净，人死了以后发青，第二、肿，慢慢地肿起来，第三会坏，坏掉，第四会爆裂开来，血，第五会脓，长出脓脓久了蛆，一个虫再一个而且地且，蛆，再来就是散，散坏的散，到最后就变第八就是骨，第九就变成烧，烧就是坏的意思，全部都烧尽了，青、肿、坏、血、脓、蛆、散、骨、烧，观照我们的色身。在这里希望诸位稍微下一点功夫，下一点，还放不下的人，观身不净就可以包括一切，你感情放不下吗？你认为对方很漂亮吗？你认为这个世间有快乐可追求吗？试试看！这样九想观，很管用的。

第二、观受是苦，观照一切的感受统统是苦的，观察世间的苦受，实在是苦的，观察世间所谓的快乐，也是苦的，为什么？快乐刹那之间会变化，所以，在师父今天的眼光里面，我曾经好几次对信徒讲，说我今天我真的不晓得要执著什么，这并不是说我很了不起，或者是一个圣者，我们冷静的思想看看，当然，今天是就师父的角度来看，我说我鸡肉也吃过了，狗肉也吃过了，猫、老鼠、鸭、海产，以前，没吃素的时候，就是这个样子，再来，最好的，请客、宴会也就是这个样子，再来，出国旅游，走了十几个国家，快乐是什么？到现在我还弄不清楚是什么，再来，什么叫快乐？

如果说，结婚快乐的话，那么，不会有那么多家庭来向师父苦诉，痛苦来向我报告，婚姻哪里有什么快乐可言，金钱、三餐，我到现在为止，要照顾我的三餐，那简单得不得了，我吃那一碗稀饭，能够做什么？对不对？你冷静一下，冷静一下，好了！如果说看不开，纵然拥有那分感情，那分金钱，到死，你又能如何？你能如何？你讲，你能如何？还不是夫妻本是同林鸟，大限来时各自飞，你还不是你走你的，她走她的，她能取而代之吗？也没有办法所以，冷静想想看！这些什么统统都摆平了，你冷静一下就什么都摆平了，所以，人家讲善于观心是入道之根本，善于观心，你善于观照你的心，你好好的观察看看，你就不难入道你就不会为了吃醋，你就不会为了那一点感情上的东西，弄得你昏头转向，也不会为了那个躯壳，化妆起来漂漂亮亮，就不可能会迷惑颠倒，绝对不可能 。

所以我常常告诉徒弟：一个拥有大智慧的人，你想要骗他，都不可能的事情，绝对不可能，你即使是天仙美貌，他的内心都会很清楚告诉他：这个是无常法，这个是无常法。大家好好的下一番功夫，至于我个人的话，我的感受就很深，当然，我不是圣人，不过，告诉诸位是互相勉励，这个世间并不值得我们这样追求，也不值得这样执著，苦还是自己，来自于一颗无明的心快乐还是来自于一颗能布施的心，苦来自于一颗无明的心，乐来自于一颗懂得布施的心，还是这样子，同样一颗心。

第三叫做观心无常，观察我们这个妄想的心，迁流不住，虚妄不实，我们要舍，我们这个心，早上是快乐，晚上就烦恼，晚上快乐，听了一句批评的话就烦恼，是不是？今天儿子考上大学联考，很乐，明天儿子发生车祸死了，痛哭流涕，观心无常，我就告诉诸位再讲一句就是世界上任何一个人全部靠不住，除非你好好的修行，你要靠谁，我问你，我们讲一句比较良心的话，在这个世界没有任何一个人可以靠唯一目前来讲，可以可靠的还是师父，真的，还是要靠师父 。

第二个就是要靠道场，知道吗？师父是没修行，靠道场，这里一共修就几百个人，六楼、七楼整个都满满的，是不是？就不要说师父是否有修行，有八百个人为你念佛，受八关斋戒，八关斋戒一日一夜，是中品中生，我们这里受八关斋戒，一天要念二万声的佛号，持八关斋戒一日一夜，八百个人持八关斋戒，你说不会往生吗？所以，要对师父好一点，不然，我不要为你回向，如果说，你要依靠，讲依靠那就是这样子可以依靠，对不对？要不然，你说要依靠什么？依靠你父亲还是你母亲？你父亲说不定整天嚼槟榔，还是要依靠师父跟道场，目前就是这样子，不然，这个世间没有谁可以依靠，你依靠谁？依靠道场，所以要对师父好一点，要稍微讨好一下，开玩笑的。

再来就是观法无我，观色法是四大假合，心法是四蕴齐俱的，色、受、想、行：心法，修我空观，我空观，观法无我，这个法是遍一切处，所谓的物体当体即空，名观法无我，在天台宗有五停心观，天台宗有五停心观，把笔拿起来，多贪的众生修不净观，唉呀！我们内在里面的那个贪念 。

比如说，你喜欢吃好吃的东西，好享受，你就想：唉呀！我吃下去，入喉三寸是何物，对不对？吃下去以后，再吐出来，你就不敢吃，然后，你想想看，我们吃下去的时候，再拉，拉出来也是不干净，所以，不净观，多贪众生不净观，第二、多嗔众生慈悲观，唉呀！如果说脾气不好，我们就常常在内心里面想说：唉呀！我们不要跟他结恶缘，结这个恶缘不行的，全世界的众生都可以伤害我们，那是他们的因果，可是就我们来讲，我们就不能动一个念头去伤害他，为什么？我们伤害他，是我们要负因果，他伤害我们，他要先起恶念，那个恶念就会侵蚀他的本性，他将来就必受果报，同学们！伤天害理造的是自己的恶业，你不可能伤害到任何人，你纵然把他杀死了，把他诽谤成功了，你将来的果报，还是你自己在吃苦，还是自己在吃苦，恶出自于人的心，报也是受之于人的身，要记住师父的话。

Even the most erudite of teachers with vast scriptural learning, can repeat words like a parrot, without taking them to heart, but when death suddenly arrives, this will bring only pangs of regret, so rely on the essential meaning of the teachings, my heart-friends! All the countless teachings of the Buddhas, so vast in number, are imparted purely as a means to subdue our own minds. Don't put your faith in words alone! I urge you once again: Let the key points of the deeper meaning seep into your hearts!

-- Jigme Phuntsok Rinpoche

Path and Fruit

by Ayya Khema

To have an ambition seems to be a natural phenomenon in the human make-up. Some people want to be rich, powerful or famous. Some want to be very knowledgeable, to get degrees. Some just want to find a little niche for themselves where they can look out of the window and see the same scenery every day. Some want to find a perfect partner, or as near perfect as possible.

Even when we are not living in the world, but in a nunnery, we have ambitions: to become excellent meditators, to be perfectly peaceful, that this life-style should yield results. There's always something to hope for. Why is that? Because it's in the future, never in the present.

Instead of being attentive to what is now, we are hoping for something better to come, maybe tomorrow. Then, when tomorrow arrives, it has to be the next day again, because it still wasn't perfect enough. If we were to change this pattern in our thinking habits and rather become attentive to what is, then we would find something to satisfy us. But when we are looking at that which doesn't exist yet, more perfect, more wonderful, more satisfying, then we can't find anything at all, because we are looking for that which isn't there.

The Buddha spoke about two kinds of people, the ordinary worldling (puthujjana) and the noble person (ariya). Obviously it is a worthwhile ambition to become a noble person, but if we keep looking for it at some future time, then it will escape us. The difference between a noble one and a worldling is the experience of "path and fruit" (magga-phala). The first moment of this supermundane consciousness is termed Stream-entry (sotapatti) and the person who experiences it is a Stream-winner (sotapanna).

If we put that into our mind as a goal in the future, it will not come about, because we are not using all our energy and strength to recognise each moment. Only in the recognition of each moment can a path moment occur.

The distinguishing factor between a worldling and a noble one is the elimination of the first three fetters binding us to continuous existence. These three, obstructing the worldling, are: wrong view of self, sceptical doubt and belief in rites and rituals, (sakkayaditthi, vicikiccha and silabbatta-paramasa). Anyone who is not a Stream-winner is chained to these three wrong beliefs and reactions that lead away from freedom into bondage.

Let's take a look at sceptical doubt first. It's that niggling thought in the back of the mind: "There must be an easier way," or "I'm sure I can find happiness somewhere in this wide world." As long as there's doubt that the path of liberation leads out of the world, and the belief is there that satisfaction can be found within the world, there is no chance of noble attainment, because one is looking in the wrong direction. Within this world with its people and things, animals and possessions, scenery and sense contacts, there is nothing to be found other than that which we already know. If there were more, why isn't it easily discernible, why haven't we found it? It should be quite plain to see. What are we looking for then?

Obviously we are looking for happiness and peace, just like everyone else is doing. Sceptical doubt, that alarmist, says: "I'm sure if I just handled it a little cleverer than I did last time I'll be happy. There are a few things I haven't tried yet." Maybe we haven't flown our own plane yet, or lived in a cave in the Himalayas or sailed around the world, or written that best-selling novel. All of these are splendid things to do in the world except they are a waste of time and energy.

Sceptical doubt makes itself felt when one isn't quite sure what one's next move should be. "Where am I going, what am I to do?" One hasn't found a direction yet. Sceptical doubt is the fetter in the mind when the clarity which comes from a path moment is absent. The consciousness arising at that time removes all doubt, because one has experienced the proof oneself. When we bite into the mango, we know its taste.

The wrong view of self is the most damaging fetter that besets the ordinary person. It contains the deeply embedded "this is me" notion. Maybe it's not even "my" body, but there is "someone" who is meditating. This "someone" wants to get enlightened, wants to become a Stream-winner, wants to be happy. This wrong view of self is the cause of all problems that could possibly arise.

As long as there's "somebody" there, that person can have problems. When there's nobody there, who could have difficulties? Wrong view of self is the root which generates all subsequent pain, grief and lamentation. With it also come the fears and worries: "Am I going to be alright, happy, peaceful, find what I am looking for, get what I want, be healthy, wealthy and wise?" These worries and fears are well substantiated from one's own past. One hasn't always been healthy, wealthy and wise, nor gotten what one wanted, nor felt wonderful. So there's very good reason to be worried and fearful as long as wrong view of self prevails.

Rites and rituals in themselves are not harmful, only believing them to be part of the path to Nibbana is detrimental. They need not even be religious, although we usually think of them like that. Such as offering flowers and incense on a shrine, prostrating or celebrating certain festivals and believing that this will accumulate enough merit to go to the Deva realms. It's devotion, respect and gratitude to the Triple Gem [Buddha, Dhamma, Sangha], which count. But this belief is not only confined to religious activities. Everybody lives with rites and rituals, even though we may not be aware of them. In human relationships there are certain prescribed ways of acting in respect to one's parents, one's children, one's partners. How one relates in one's job, to friends and strangers, how one wants to be confirmed by others, all is connected to preconceived ideas of what is right and proper in a certain culture and tradition. None of it has any basic truth in it, all is mind-made. The more ideas one has, the less one can see reality. The more one believes in them the harder it is to abandon them. As one imagines oneself to be a certain kind of person, one relates in that way in all situations. It doesn't have to be how we put flowers on a shrine, it can also be how we greet people, if we do it according to a certain stereotyped ritual and not the way an open heart and mind may dictate.

These three obstructions fall away when a path and fruit moment has been experienced. There's a marked change in such a person, which is -- of course -- not externally visible. It would be nice to wear a halo and look blissful. But the inner change is firstly that the experience leaves absolutely no doubt what has to be done in this life. The event is totally different from anything previously known, so much so, that it makes one's former life, up to that point, immaterial. Nothing can be found in the past which has fundamental importance. The only significance lies in going ahead with the practice so that this minimal experience of the first path moment can be fortified, resurrected and firmly established in oneself.

The path and fruit moments recur for the Once-returner (sakadagami), the Non-returner (anagami) and the Enlightened One (Arahant). Each time they are not only deepened, but can be lengthened. One could compare this to having examinations at the university. If one is going through four years of university study to get a certain degree, one has to pass examinations at the end of each year. One has to answer questions each time, based on one's previously absorbed knowledge. But the questions become deeper, more profound and more difficult with each subsequent examination. While they are always concerned with the same subject, they require more depth and profundity of understanding each time. Until one finally graduates and doesn't have to return to university. It's the same with our spiritual development. Each path moment is based on the previous one and is concerned with the same subject, yet it goes deeper and further. Until one passes one's final test and need not return again.

The path moment doesn't have any thinking or feeling in it. It is not comparable to the meditative absorptions (jhana). Although it is based upon them because only the concentrated mind can enter into a path moment, it does not have the same qualities. the meditative absorptions have -- in their initial stages -- the ingredients of rapture, happiness and peacefulness. Later on, the mind experiences expansion, nothingness and a change of perception. The path moment does not contain any of these states of mind.

It has a quality of non-being. This is such a relief and changes one's world view so totally that it is quite understandable that the Buddha made such a distinction between a worldling and a Noble One. While the meditative absorptions bring with them a feeling of oneness, of unity, the path moment does not even contain that. The moment of fruition, subsequent to the path moment, is the understood experience and results in a turned-around vision of existence.

The new understanding recognises every thought, every feeling as stress (dukkha). The most elevated thought, the most sublime feeling still has this quality. Only when there is nothing, is there no stress. There is nothing internal or external that contains the quality of total satisfactoriness. Because of such an inner vision, the passion for wanting anything is discarded. All has been seen for what it really is and nothing can give the happiness that arises through the practice of the path and its results.

The Nibbanic element cannot be truly described as bliss, because bliss has a connotation of exhilaration. We use the word "bliss" for the meditative absorption, where it includes a sense of excitement. The Nibbanic element does not recognise bliss because all that arises is seen as stress. "The bliss of Nibbana" may give one the impression that one may find perfect happiness, but the opposite is true. One finds that there is nothing and therefore no more unhappiness, only peace.

To look for path and fruit will not bring them about, because only moment to moment awareness can do so. This awareness will eventually culminate in real concentration where one can let go of thinking and be totally absorbed. We can drop the meditation subject at that time. We need not push it aside, it falls away of its own accord, and absorption in awareness occurs. If there has to be an ambition in one's life, this is the only worthwhile one. All others will not bring fulfilment.

One doesn't have to force oneself to give up sceptical doubt. What is there to doubt when one has experienced the truth? If one hits oneself with a hammer, one feels pain and cannot doubt it. One knows from one's own experience.

Rites and rituals are brought to an interesting end because the person who has experienced a path moment will under no circumstance indulge in any role-playing. All roles are the ingredients of unreality. One may continue religious rites, because they contain aspects of respect, gratitude and devotion. But there will not be any rituals in how to relate to people or to situations or how to invent stories about oneself because the response is with a spontaneous open heart.

Letting go of the wrong view of self is -- of course -- the most profound change, causing all other changes. For the Stream-winner the wrong view of self can never intellectually arise again, but feeling-wise it can, because the path moment has been so fleeting. It hasn't made the complete impact yet. If it had done so, it would have resulted in Enlightenment. This is possible and is mentioned in the Buddha's discourses as having happened during his lifetime. All four stages of holiness were realised while listening to the Dhamma.

The initial fruit moment needs to be re-lived, one has to resurrect it over and over again, until the second path moment can arise. It's like repeating what one knows and not forgetting so that one can build upon it.

It is very useful to remind oneself in all waking moments that body, feeling, perception, mental formations and consciousness are all impermanent and have no core substance, changing from moment to moment. Whether one has had a direct vision of non-self (anatta) or just an understanding of it, either way one has to bring it back into one's mind and re-live it as often as possible. As we continue to do this, ordinary problems arise less and less. If we remain aware of the impermanence of all that exists, our difficulties seem far less important and the view of self subtly changes.

The view we have of ourselves is our worst enemy. Everyone has made up a persona, a mask that one wears and we don't want to see what's behind it. We don't allow anyone else to look either. After having had a path moment, that is no longer possible. But the mask, fear and rejection come to the fore. The best antidote is to remember again and again, that there's really nobody there, only phenomena, nothing more. Even though the inner vision may not be concrete enough to substantiate such a claim, the affirmation helps to loosen the grasping and clinging and to hang on a little less tightly.

The direction of the practice is certainly towards Stream-entry. However, there is nothing to get, there's everything to give up. Unless that is done, the moment cannot happen, and we will continue to live in the same way we always have. Beset by dukkha obstructed by dukkha, subject to praise and blame, loss and gain, fame and ill-fame, happiness and unhappiness. The usual problems -- all caused by "self" -- will arise again and again. The real change comes when there is a decisive alteration in the way we view ourselves, otherwise the difficulties remain the same because the same identical person is generating them.

Being mindfully aware in and out of meditation is the practice which will bring results. It means doing one thing at a time, attentive to mind and body. When listening to Dhamma, only listen. When sitting in meditation, only attending to the meditation subject. When planting a tree, only planting. No frills, no judgements. That habituates the mind to be in each moment. Only in such a way can a path moment occur. It's not in the distant future, it's possible here and now. There's no reason why an intelligent, healthy, committed person should not be able to attain it with patience and perseverance.

We have heard about disenchantment and dispassion as steps on the path to liberation and freedom. They cannot have meaning and impact unless there is a vision of a totally different reality, one which does not contain the world's manifoldness. When one sits in meditation and starts thinking, that's the temptation of diversification and expansion (papañca). The Nibbana element is one, not manifold. One could say that it's empty of all that we know. Until that is seen, the world will keep calling, but we need not believe it all. It is a difficult task. So one has to remind oneself often, otherwise one gets caught by temptation. One should not be surprised when one doesn't find happiness; manifoldness, diversification cannot create happiness, only distraction.

Certainly one can experience pleasure from the senses. If one has good karma there will be many occasions. Good food, beautiful scenery, pleasant people, good music, interesting books, a comfortable home, not too much physical discomfort. But do these bring fulfilment? Since it didn't happen in the past, why should it occur in the future? Path and fruit bring fulfilment because they are empty of phenomena. Emptiness does not change nor does it become unpleasant and it cannot lack peace, since there is nothing to disturb it.

When people hear or read about Nibbana, they are apt to say: "How can I want nothing?" When one has seen that everything one can possibly want is meant to fill an inner void and dissatisfaction, then the time has come to want nothing. This goes beyond "not wanting" because one now accepts the reality that there is nothing worthwhile to be had. Not wanting anything will make it possible to experience that there is actually nothing -- only peace and quiet.