“In this entire world system, where does ‘freedom’ exist in the strictest sense of the term?”―if a question were to be asked thus, the answer that could be given without a second thought would be, “In an arahat.” The arahat is the reflection, the mirror image, of freedom. The mind of the arahat is like a brilliant-white cloth. There isn’t the tiniest amount of dirt in it―not even as much as the size of a mere needle-point. Being in the here and now, the arahat paints pictures on that white cloth. The instant they are drawn, they get erased. Draws again. They get erased again. The arahat neither accumulates nor piles up the pictures drawn. What the arahat uses for the pictures drawn in the here and now is taintless, undefiled paint. There is no thickness, coarseness, attachment, resentment, or equanimity in it. It is an extinguished paint. Therefore, the arahat’s arising and passing mind referred to as the pristine white cloth is always undefiled. The arahat’s mind, which does not see a ‘being’ or a ‘person’ anywhere, always paints only forms (rūpa) that get erased after seeing the ‘impermanence’ (anicca). The lives of such venerables are therefore unencumbered (unburdened). Simple. Precise. Overt. It is the reflection, the mirror image, of freedom.
It is the freedom of such nature that you, I, everyone, be it laity or clergy, who develop the path to enlightenment go in search of. It is the freedom that lies where life has been emptied of all attachments. You have gone forth leaving behind the lay household to become a monk, having cast aside all the mundane (worldly) comforts and riches you had accumulated and possessed up until that point. For what reason have you thus gone forth leaving behind everything? ―to let go of, to give up, everything that was cast aside.
Think intently; ‘casting aside’ and ‘letting go of’ are two things that are worlds apart. What you ought to do after having entered monkhood is to practise letting go of those things that were cast aside; …to train in it. What are the things you had cast aside and left behind…?
Parents, relatives, businesses, properties, social status… in short, the reason why you have gone forth casting aside the things that become attached to these six sense-faculties is to let go of all such things. Now the goal is clear. If so, what you should go in search of is a place conducive to practising ‘letting go’, a place that doesn’t practise ‘accumulating’. A place that doesn’t accumulate what…?
―a place where one won’t accumulate defilements (kilesa).
―a place where the mind will develop comfortably.
If there is no such forest hermitage or secluded place, then, maintaining association with a teacher who develops the path, you must go to a solitary kuṭī.
Avoid places confined to the following forms of tanhā―craving: craving for the forest hermitage, craving for pupils, craving for the Vinaya―’monastic training rules of virtue’, craving towards deva or brahma worlds and craving for a state of bodhisatta. Apart from being helpful in protecting and prolonging the dispensation―the sāsana―or for you to gain rebirth in a favourable course of existence,[i] the aforesaid things are not helpful in attaining extinguishment in this very life. By brushing against the above natures your path to emancipation may turn into a path to ‘becoming’ (bhava). Strong as your aim is, you may still be new to monkhood. It may be that you’re still prone to drifting with the tide. You went forth leaving behind the household life not to drift with the popular trend but to swim upstream, against the tide. Yet if you weren’t skilful, you’d be taken captive by the flourishing four requisites, the local and foreign lay-clergy relations or the teacher-pupil bonds. Do not become attached to anything; do not hold on to anything. Train to gradually let go of all that you have become attached to. Reflect that, as someone mature in age and life-understanding, you are a person who has entered the sāsana with a purpose. Yet, ensure not to make an overestimation of yourself.
See that there is a particular sīla (virtue) in this sāsana that surpasses the monastic training rules of virtue of novice-monks and fully ordained monks. Bear in mind that that sīla is not one that can be received from someone else but one that must be obtained by practising Dhamma–Vinaya by oneself, by making oneself one’s own refuge.
Rather than a string with which one willingly ties down his hands and feet or the gallows with which one kills his own freedom, Vinaya is merely a tool that is there for comfortably traversing the path to nibbāna. Just as a paratrooper who gets airborne in an aeroplane uses a parachute for descend and to land on earth safely, so too you had better make use of the Vinaya for comfortably getting ashore from the path to nibbāna.[ii] As soon as the paratrooper’s feet touch the earth, he would let go of the parachute. Likewise, Vinaya is something you let go of while gaining insightful understanding and correcting the mistakes (transgressions), rather than something you clasp in your arms. By holding on tightly to Vinaya for the purpose of getting rid of mistakes (transgressions), what accumulates is tanhā―craving. Craving leads you not towards extinguishment but towards ‘becoming’. We must make sure not to clutch tightly as ‘I am within Vinaya’ or ‘Vinaya is in me’.
Vinaya means mindfulness.[iii] Dhamma means the true nature of things. The nature of the Dhamma is anicca―impermanence. To look at ‘impermanence’ with ‘mindfulness’, would be to live within Dhamma–Vinaya. Vinaya is essential. But not for transgressing again and again. Instead, it is essential for getting rid of the transgressions after having insightfully recognized the puthujjana-mind, which has the nature of transgressing. It is a weakness of yours to dedicate yourself solely to Vinaya. Vinaya is only a path leading to samādhi (concentration) and paññā (wisdom). Rather than struggling with Vinaya, avoid your weaknesses with mindfulness. If there are a hundred books written on Vinaya, having stacked them up on top of each other, on top of those hundred books place the Buddha’s words “cetanāhaŋ bhikkhave kammaŋ vadāmi”―“Volition, o monks, is what I call action.”
However, if you are not sure of yourself, if you are not skilful, if you suffer from conceit, arrogance, or obsession with the fruits of the path (magga phala), then, reflect that it is essential to train both under the guidance of a teacher and within the Vinaya. If not, you’ll lose your way. Do not make an overestimation of your abilities. Be smart when making decisions. Don’t be slow-moving. Nor be overzealous, hurried. Be free of timetables, pre-preparations or planning. Don’t make any undue effort. Just as the sun, the moon, the earth and the ocean behave in their innate nature without any undue effort, so too you must practise the path to enlightenment being within your own nature. Simply be a part of nature. Don’t let there be a distance between nature and yourself. Compare with your own thoughts the descending moon and the rising sun.
Be a warrior who goes against the tide in search of freedom. Stop reflecting on the qualities of a Buddha and start constantly reflecting on why you entered monkhood. Behold with your own experience that at each moment you so reflect, what you see is the Lord Buddha himself. With humility, notice your weaknesses. Humility doesn’t mean inferiority. Of those who pursue a target in this world, the bhikkhu should be the one with the most vigour. There is no one in this entire trifold world capable of surpassing him. Like a bull-elephant that roams in solitude in the dense jungle, you yourself must go in search of the freedom you seek. In this journey of yours, you won’t notice the night, the day, the rain, the cold or the hunger. None of these things can control you. As the one with the most vigour in this world, you will hunt down the kilesa-māra, the defilements. You yourself must realize the freedom you seek. It is something that cannot be done by a deva or a brahma. All they can do is utter words of praise for you as ‘sādhu… sādhu…’ In your presence, they are merely secondary. Bringing this entire universe to the palm of your hand by making it fine and tenuous, be a sage who, through the sharpness of penetrative insight (vipassanā), has transcended this world. This will only be possible for you if you manage to be skilful to make the most critical decision, that is, “either extinguishment (nibbāna) or else death.” Then you can make the freedom you seek meaningful.
[i] The phrase ‘favourable course of existence’ (sugati) refers to a relatively happy destination that beings get reborn in. The ‘favourable course of existence’ (favourable destination) consists of the human-world and heavenly-realms that include 6 deva-worlds and 20 brahma-worlds. (But since rebirth in a brahma-world is the result of generating meditative absorptions (see deva, see brahma), the 20 brahma-worlds are generally not considered as part of the ‘favourable course of existence’ as concerned with the sensuous sphere). The opposite of ‘favourable-courses’ (‘sugati’) is the ‘woeful-courses’ (‘duggati’―woeful destination), which is simply the fourfold-hell (see Note 11).
[ii] The terms ‘getting ashore’ or ‘crossing over to the far shore’ have been occasionally used figuratively in this translation to denote ‘transcending’ the world, the saŋsāra, the suffering etc.
[iii] The venerable Author has often used two Sinhala words back to back― ‘satiya’ and ‘sihiya’, both of which denote ‘sati’ in Pāli. Sati means ‘mindfulness’ at the present moment. More specifically, the use of the word sati is restricted to a kind of (wholesome) bare attention, awareness, present in the here and now. Thus, the translation uses the single term ‘mindfulness’ to translate both these Sinhala words. Resulting adjustments have been made to sentences accordingly.
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