User:Furthershore/sandbox/Thai Forest Tradition

The mind (Pali: “citta”, “mano” — used interchangably as “heart” or “mind” en masse) refers to the essential knowing nature of an individual. Ajahn Chah writes:

The mind isn’t “is” anything. What would it “is”? We’ve come up with the supposition that whatever receives preoccupations—good preoccupations, bad preoccupations, whatever—we call “heart” or “mind.” Like the owner of a house: Whoever receives the guests is the owner of the house. The guests can’t receive the owner. The owner has to stay put at home. When guests come to see him, he has to receive them. So who receives preoccupations? Who lets go of preoccupations? Who knows anything? [Laughs] That’s what we call “mind.” But we don’t understand it, so we talk, veering off course this way and that: “What is the mind? What is the heart?” We get things way too confused. Don’t analyze it so much. What is it that receives preoccupations? Some preoccupations don’t satisfy it, and so it doesn’t like them. Some preoccupations it likes and some it doesn’t. Who is that—who likes and doesn’t like? Is there something there? Yes. What’s it like? We don’t know. Understand? That thing... That thing is what we call the “mind.” Don’t go looking far away. ^[5]

In addition to this quality of taking on preoccupations or “knowing”, Ajaan Maha Bua notes that the mind does not die — the reason that an individual suffers is that the mind becomes superficially tangled with it's preoccupations, and fails to see that it is separate from the aggregates (Pali: khandas), which are subject to the three characteristics.^[6]

The Dhammapada, a poem commonly attributed to the Buddha, begins by saying that all phenomena are preceded by the mind. Ajaan Mun elaborates on this phrase to say that the mind is the origin of the round of dependent origination — the origin of fabrication and all subsequent conventional, fabricated realities. According to Ajaan Mun:

Each and every one of us born as a human being has a birthplace: we have our parents as our birthplace. So why did the Buddha formulate the teaching on sustained conditions only from the factor of unawareness onwards? What unawareness comes from, he didn't say. Unawareness has to have a mother and father just as we do, and we learn from the above line that thitibhutam is its mother and father. Thitibhutam refers to the primal mind.^[7]

When the mind in it's primal state (thithibhutam) is “imbued with delusion,” the condition of avijja (Pali, meaning “ignorance” or “unawareness”) is present, which in turn gives rise to sankhara (Pali, meaning “fabrications” or “formations). This avijja also gives rise to the act of clinging to the sankhara, and that combination gives rise to becoming and birth. According to Ajaan Mun: “They are thus called sustained or sustaining conditions because they support and sustain one another.”^[7]

Ajaan Lee describes this another way: this primal nature of the mind (when imbued with delusion), streams out from it's essential knowing nature to various objects via a current that “thinks and streams”. This current that “thinks and streams” is referred to as a mental state. When the mental state connects with an object and falls for it subject to craving and clinging it then becomes a kilesa (Pali: “defilement"), which “darkens the mind”.^[8]

While these mental states (including mental states in interaction) have the property of anicca (Pali, meaning “impermanence” or “inconstancy”) — they must “arise and disband” by their very nature — the essential knowing nature of the mind never arises nor disbands, and therefore can act as the source of these mental states. Ajaan Lee writes that “[The primal mind] is a fixed phenomenon (ṭhiti-dhamma), always in place. By the primal nature of the mind — which is termed 'pabhassara,' or radiant — I mean the ordinary, elementary state of knowing in the present. But whoever isn't able to penetrate in to know it can't gain any good from it, like the proverbial monkey with the diamond.”^[8]

In freeing the mind of defilment, a common analogy used by the Thai Ajaans is that of a battle — if one is successful in overcoming defilement it is seen as a “victory” over the defilements. In keeping with this analogy Ajaan Mun says that one must first establish a stronghold by establishing one's mindfulness in the four satipatthana (Pali, meaning “establishing of mindfulness” or “frames of reference”).^[7]

As one works on establishing mindfulness of the four satipatthana, they will also want to employ specific techniques based on problems they face in their practice — i.e. for weakening sensual desire the

are considered useful.

Additionally, Ajaan Mun suggests examining the body in all it's parts; later, he suggests a similar examination of the body in terms of the four properties: earth, water, wind, and fire. Ajaan Mun suggests this practice should be “worked at repeatedly.” Ajaan Mun writes:

'Working at it and developing it repeatedly' should be understood as follows: When rice farmers grow rice, they work in the soil, plowing the soil and planting rice in the soil. The following year they grow rice in the soil again. They don't grow their rice in the air or in the middle of the sky. They grow it only in the soil, and the rice then fills their granaries of its own accord. When they work repeatedly in the soil, they don't have to plead, 'Rice, O rice, please come and fill our granaries.' The rice pours in of its own accord. And even if they forbid it, saying, 'Rice, O rice, don't come and fill our granaries,' if they have completed their work in the soil, there's no doubt but that the rice will still come and keep their granaries full.^[7]

This metaphor is used to indicate that when doing this work, the meditator should be focused doing the aforementioned work rather than contemplating release with the hope of understanding through conjecture or obtaining by wanting.

Central to meditation practice in the Forest tradition is the notion that not only is samadhi a necessary practice for the meditative development, but that certain factors need to be present within one's concentration practice for the concentration to lead to insight. Samadhi practices common in other meditation traditions may involve the taking up either an external theme, such as following visions or signs (Pali: nimitta); or the narrowing of awareness to a focal point on ones body (the tip of the nose, for instance). Ajaan Mun's students dismiss both of the former samatha practices entirely, referring to the narrowing of awareness as a sort of “wrong concentration” which is devoid of the actual factors of jhana in the Buddhist sense:^[9]

• The first of the two samatha themes — that of directing ones gaze to an external object — is commonly referred to as kasina practice. The meditator will focus on this object until signs and visions arise, and then follow those signs and visions outside of the body. Ajaan Lee writes that this type of meditation is falls under yogic meditation practices and is outside the scope of Buddhist teachings. He reports that this type of meditation leads to a state of disorientation which is "lacking the mindfulness and alertness that form the present".^[10]

According to his spiritual biography, Ajaan Mun practiced such a type of meditation early in his monastic career before devoting himself to mindfulness-immersed-in-the-body practices. Tambiah writes that "[Ajahn Mun] first began his meditation sittings by contemplating the corpse and had images appear before him of bloated and festering bodies being torn to pieces by vultures, gods, and crows; these were followed by quick changes of visions — of climbing and walking on mountains and so on. But such volatile and distracting experiences brought no peace and balance of mind. He then decided to refrain from concentrating on external objects and events and focused his attention on his own body. Having spent some time in walking meditation (cankamma), he turned to sitting meditation using his body (its nature and processes) as the central theme and reached the condition of one-pointedness of mind. This introspective method of meditation became his favored technique, which he later modified as he engaged in more advanced practices and efforts." ^[11]

• The second aforementioned type of meditation, where one stays in the body but continually narrows their awareness by staring down, ultimately leads to what is referred to in the forest tradition as the plane of non-perception. In this state the mind is put in a sort of trance where it is willed not to settle on even the most fleeting thought, to where all alertness and “sense of body and mind” is lost. Ajaan Lee writes that in this state “Your awareness isn't well-rounded, your mindfulness lacks circumspection, and as a result discernment has no chance to arise. This is called Wrong Concentration, Wrong Release, a mental blank — no awareness of past, present or future.”^[10]

Ajaan Lee writes elsewhere that correct concentration practice involves a strong sense of the present moment — aware of the present results the meditation as well as what the meditator is doing to bring about those results. This awareness falls under the evaluation (Pali: "vicara") aspect of jhana.^[12]

According to Thanissaro release occurs when the mind touches the amata-dhamma (Pali, meaning “deathless dimension”) — an unconditioned dimension which is already present, but is obscured by the delusion which imbues the mind. One metaphor Thanissaro uses is that of saltwater and freshwater: the freshwater is present in the saltwater, but an effort must be made to distill out and separate the salt so that one can get the freshwater.

The 'original mind' means the original mind of the round in which the mind finds itself spinning around and about, as in the Buddha's saying, 'Monks, the original mind is radiant' — notice that — 'but because of the admixture of defilements' or 'because of the defilements that come passing through, it becomes darkened.' The original mind here refers to the origin of conventional realities, not to the origin of purity. The Buddha uses the term 'pabhassaram' — 'pabhassaramidam cittam bhikkhave' — which means radiant. It doesn't mean pure. The way he puts it is absolutely right. There is no way you can fault it. Had he said that the original mind is pure, you could immediately take issue: 'If the mind is pure, why is it born? Those who have purified their minds are never reborn. If the mind is already pure, why purify it?' Right here is where you could take issue. What reason would there be to purify it? If the mind is radiant, you can purify it because its radiance is unawareness incarnate, and nothing else. Meditators will see clearly for themselves the moment the mind passes from radiance to mental release: Radiance will no longer appear. Right here is the point where meditators clearly know this, and it's the point that lets them argue — because the truth has to be found true in the individual heart. Once a person knows, he or she can't help but speak with full assurance.^[13]