This is an AI-generated transcript from auto-generated subtitles for the video Bhikkhu Sambodhi - On the vital importance of one’s mind’s training being G R A D U A L". It likely contains inaccuracies, especially with speaker attribution if there are multiple speakers.

On the vital importance of one’s mind’s training being G R A D U A L - Bhikkhu Sambodhi

The following talk was given by Bhikkhu Sambodhi at The Sati Center in Redwood City, CA on April 12, 2024. Please visit the website www.audiodharma.org for more information.

Introduction

At first, I would like to clarify something. On the way here, I stopped at Maui and met a local American. When I told him about the Buddha's teaching, he didn't understand what I meant. "Do you understand the Buddha's teaching?" He didn't understand "Buddha" because the American pronunciation is often "Boo-da." I pronounce it as is standard in Sri Lanka: "Bud-dha." I think Indians don't have a problem understanding it because the Pāli¹ language is a close relative to Hindi and many other Indian languages. But I suspect for some Americans it could be a problem to understand.

I normally don't use the words "Buddhism" and "Buddhist" because the Buddha didn't teach Buddhism. Buddhism is a British invention, in a similar way as Hinduism is. I trained myself to use "Buddha's teaching" or "Dhamma"² instead of "Buddhism" because these two things—Buddhism and the authentic Dhamma—are not the same thing. They should not be conflated or used interchangeably because they are different.

This long-winded introduction is aimed at helping you understand how the Dhamma, or teaching about reality, appears in the world and how it is completely natural for it eventually to disappear. We know this from the Digha Nikaya³, the first collection of Buddha's discourses.

How many of you believe that rebirth exists? Some people are doubtful about it. That's normal. To those who are doubtful, I recommend checking seventy years of research at the University of Virginia. I think this research proves almost without a doubt that there is rebirth. Psychiatrist Professor Ian Stevenson⁴ collected about 3,000 records of children remembering past lives. Some of these memories can be verified; one can go into historical records and check that this person existed in the past. It supports the idea of rebirth so strongly that I think for people who can open their minds, it is quite easy to accept. Without rebirth, the Buddha's teachings would not make sense and would not be needed.

In the Digha Nikaya, the Buddha describes how the world is and how the Dhamma arises. Most of the time in this universe—which is a universe of not just matter but also the mind—the true nature of life or existence is not known. People believe in various things like a creator God, and they keep being reborn without any beginning. The Buddha said there is no beginning, and if they don't know the Dhamma, this round of rebirth continues infinitely.

It is in the nature of this universe that from time to time, someone very exceptional realizes the truth. That discovery of the Dhamma makes this person a Buddha. The last historical person who attained this enlightenment was Siddhartha Gautama in India about twenty-five centuries ago. He mentioned six previous Buddhas. The first one or two were ninety-two eons ago. That's about one Buddha per fifteen eons. An eon is an extremely long time; nobody can really describe it. So, it is extremely rare.

When the Dhamma is discovered by this exceptional person—a Sammā Sambuddha⁵, a perfectly enlightened one—they are capable of teaching the Dhamma effectively. There are many more who are called Paccekabuddhas⁶, who realize the truth but are not able to teach it. They don't enter history, and we don't know about them unless a perfectly enlightened Buddha mentions them.

When a Buddha is alive and there are many enlightened disciples around, that is the best possible state for the Dhamma's presence in the world. Once the Buddha passes away, the true Dhamma, or Saddhamma, continues for some time. As long as the first generation of enlightened disciples is alive, the knowledge of the Dhamma is safe. But when the first generation passes away, the number of truly enlightened followers of the Buddha gets smaller and smaller.

Eventually, with the passage of time, new ideas are introduced. The teachings move into different geographic areas and cultures, and from those cultures, new ideas are introduced. This is an inevitable process of dilution. It is a little controversial, and I'm surprised it is not talked about at all. Old ideas taught by the Buddha are gradually lost through incremental changes in understanding or wording. This is a completely natural process. Eventually, the true Dhamma that has liberating potential is lost or forgotten. This happens after every Buddha passes away.

Now we are twenty-five centuries after the Buddha. The Buddha said that the true Dhamma would last only 500 years. So you can imagine that probably what we understand as "Buddhism" or Buddha's teachings is not all correct.

On the vital importance of one’s mind’s training being G R A D U A L

One of the teachings I suspect was a little bit lost is the teaching on gradual training. I came across the Buddha's teachings in 1992 while studying psychology. I started with the Burmese tradition, the Mahasi method⁷. Famous American teachers like Joseph Goldstein and Jack Kornfield also started with Mahasi. My first teacher was a Czech psychologist who came across the Mahasi method in India in 1968 with Anagarika Munindra.

My introduction was precisely the opposite of gradual training. I heard about a meditation course, found it exotic, and went. I had no idea about the Buddha's teachings; I just knew the words "Buddha" and "Buddhism." I went to this retreat, sat down cross-legged, and was asked to close my eyes and sit without movement for forty-five minutes. That was terrifying for me. I had a panic attack during the sitting. Not being able to move and just watching the breath felt impossible. But because of social pressure, I had to do it.

Only many years later did I understand that this was a completely wrong way to come to meditation. If you read the Buddha's formulation of gradual training, formal meditation comes only as the sixth step. For me, it was the first step.

What gained my interest was the teaching on Kamma⁸ and Anatta⁹. I thought Anatta was a cool idea—non-self, nobody is here. Even now, this voice you hear, there is nobody behind it. There is no knowledge beforehand of what I am going to say in the next sentence. The idea arises, and the mind stays with it until it comes out of the mouth.

I decided to become a Buddhist. Only twenty years later did I decide, "No, I am not a Buddhist; I am a Buddha's follower."

I followed the Mahasi method for a long time. In 1995, I went for an intense ten-month retreat in a Mahasi center. It was twelve hours of formal meditation a day: one hour sitting, one hour walking. Curiously, I never heard teachings on gradual training anywhere. But what I understood much later is that the first steps are really important; formal meditation is not as important as the steps beforehand. I think this element got lost in our times.

What are these initial steps? The most detailed teaching on this is in the Sāmaññaphala Sutta¹⁰ ("The Discourse on the Fruits of the Ascetic Life"), translated well by Bhikkhu Bodhi. It is a teaching given by the Buddha to King Ajatasattu.

Step 1: Going Forth

The first step is to become a monastic—ordaining. This is not contemplated often in secular times. Secular Buddhism seems to mean Buddhism without monasticism.

At the Buddha's time, laypeople who became enlightened often did so just by listening to the Buddha's teaching. Why did they become instantly enlightened and not us? Because they were meditation prodigies. They had practiced in past lives. If you have practiced the whole gradual training in the past, you are ready.

Most of us are not prodigies. I believe I was a monk in past lives because when I ordained temporarily in Burma, putting on robes felt completely natural, like coming home. Yet, I was not a meditation prodigy; I had a difficult time sitting.

For those who need to practice gradual training in this life, the most natural step, if motivated for liberation, is to ordain. By ordaining, you become a meditation professional. You don't waste time making a living. You have all the time available, thanks to the Buddha and the support of the lay community. It is a shared project: if monastics were not supported, the Dhamma would disappear much faster.

I realized the difference between practicing as a layperson and as a monastic is like the difference between an amateur and a professional tennis player. Can an amateur win a Grand Slam? Probably not. If you really want to win, you have to be a professional. Similarly, if you are intent on real enlightenment, why not become a monastic?

Step 2: Moral Discipline (Sīla)

The second step is the noble aggregate of moral discipline. In the Sāmaññaphala Sutta, the section on Sīla¹¹ is the longest.

Imagine the path as building the Shwedagon Pagoda¹². The foundational layer is the largest—that is the purification of Sīla. One needs to purify one's conduct really well before intense meditation. One should spend enough time practicing at least the Five Precepts¹³ consistently: refraining from killing, stealing, sexual misconduct, wrong speech (including gossip and hurtful words), and intoxicants.

Going forth is important because you give away your possessions, fulfilling Dāna¹⁴ (generosity). It is an incredible boost in spiritual energy. For lay practitioners, you can approximate this by giving what you can afford. This is training in letting go of attachment.

In the West, giving seems extremely underestimated compared to Sri Lanka, Thailand, or Burma. Generosity is a foundation. If you don't build the foundation, you cannot build the structure above it. Starting with intense meditation without the foundation is like trying to build a pagoda in mid-air. It doesn't work. You might go a little bit up, but then you feel stuck. You need to go back and enlarge the foundation.

Step 3: Restraint Over the Sense Faculties

The third step is noble restraint over the sense faculties. You train your mind to become aware of where you place your attention within the five senses: what you look at, listen to, smell, taste, and touch.

For monastics, we are supposed to look down and walk. For laypeople, it is good if you just become aware of where you are looking. Know the intention before you look. Know if the mind responds with craving or ill will. If you know you intend to look at a desirable object with desire, sometimes try to say "no." Watch how the mind feels afterwards. You will probably notice greater peace in the heart.

Step 4: Mindfulness and Clear Comprehension

This is what we normally call mindfulness in daily activities. You train yourself to be fully aware of what you are doing. Normally, when we do things out of habit, we are thinking about something else.

I had a photojournalist friend who could drive through Prague and realize at the end he had no idea how he got there; he was lost in thought. This is the opposite of mindfulness. We try to prevent this by making an effort to be fully with the activity. One way to be confident you are there is if the mind remains silent. If the mind keeps thinking, you are not there.

Step 5: Noble Contentment

This is being content with what one has. For monastics, it is contentment with the four requisites: food, robes, lodgings, and medicine. I spent years in a small hut (kuti) with three mud walls, and that was more than enough.

For lay practitioners, simply do not indulge in shopping. If you have a car that works, there is no need to buy a new one every few years.

Step 6: Intense Meditation

Only after these steps does the Buddha describe intense meditation.

"Endowed with this noble aggregate of moral discipline, this noble restraint over the sense faculties, this noble mindfulness and clear comprehension, and this noble contentment, he resorts to a secluded dwelling... He sits down, crosses his legs, holds his body erect, and sets up mindfulness before him."

The passage describes abandoning the Five Hindrances¹⁵. Once the hindrances are removed, the mind is ready to enter states of strong Samādhi¹⁶. This Samādhi serves as a foundation for developing wisdom, and then enlightenment happens.

Sati as Presence

Give gradual training a thought. For me, the most rewarding practice is mindfulness in daily activities. I had to recondition my mind to abandon the idea that only formal meditation matters. Practicing presence in daily activities often feels more fruitful than formal sitting.

One little teaching for reflection is the idea of what mindfulness actually is. In Pāli, the word is Sati¹⁷. Sati actually means memory. I am surprised nobody gives much thought to this.

When I started practicing in the Czech Republic, we used a Czech word that was misleading. After four years of intense meditation, I saw the quality of Sati directly and decided it was better described by the word Presence.

I later discovered that Eckhart Tolle also uses the word "presence" instead of "mindfulness." He speaks of the "Power of Now." This confirmed my understanding. "Presence" is more concrete. It gives a better idea of what you are supposed to do: be present, know fully what you are doing.

How is this connected to memory? To develop this faculty, you basically need to remember to be present. The right effort is just remembering. If you notice tension, it is not the correct effort. You don't need to tense up to remember. You just need to keep repeating it.

When the mind forgets, you cannot do anything until it remembers. The moment people lose the path is when they remember and then get discouraged: "I was not present for half the day; I am hopeless." This should not happen. Only an Arahant¹⁸ is present continuously. For everyone else, the mind forgets. We just need to be patient. Whenever the mind remembers, we start again.

Q&A

Question: I heard that there are thousands of rules monastics have to follow, but we usually hear of 227. Can you shed some light on this and how you adhere to them?

Bhikkhu Sambodhi: Nobody can know all the rules. The 227 (actually 220 rules of conduct plus procedures) in the Pātimokkha¹⁹ are the most basic. Bhikkhunis (nuns) have many more, over 300—again, gender bias.

My preceptor, Pa-Auk Sayadaw²⁰ (who is also Shaila Catherine's²¹ teacher), told me we should keep all the rules. But nobody is expected to be perfect. It is a lifelong process of learning. Many minor rules are dated or rarely apply.

The most important rules are the four Pārājikas²²:

1. Sexual intercourse.
2. Stealing.
3. Killing a human being intentionally.
4. Falsely claiming superhuman states (like enlightenment).

It is possible to fall into these innocently. It almost happened to me. When I first disrobed in Burma, nobody told me the correct procedure. I thought taking off the robes was enough, but I was still technically a monk. When I returned to my wife, I could have committed a Pārājika. Fortunately, I had developed an attachment to my robes! I fought with myself about keeping them, and my better self won. I went to give them to a Czech monk friend. He made me say the correct disrobing formula: "I am not a monk anymore." So, my attachment to the robes actually saved me because it forced me to meet him.

Similarly, I almost advised my grandmother, who was suffering terribly, on how to end her life. That would have been a Pārājika (inciting death). But she made me angry by criticizing my being a monk, so I didn't advise her! [Laughter]

Question: How should we develop Viriya (Effort)?

Bhikkhu Sambodhi: Viriya²³ is not simple. For 20 years, I made the wrong effort—willpower that felt like tension in the heart. If you notice tension, check your effort.

I decided recently that most effort should be directed at keeping in mind to be present. It is a strange kind of memory—not recalling a phone number, but keeping it in the RAM, in the mind, all the time. You cannot achieve that by willpower, only by repeating the process: "Now I remembered; now I will be present."

You can cultivate this at any moment. It is most difficult when talking or listening. I only became capable of maintaining presence while talking very recently, after 24 years as a monastic. We shouldn't start there. Start with simple activities: walking, washing dishes, vacuuming. You can become a "Grand Slam winner" in meditation because you can practice Bhāvanā²⁴ (cultivation) while doing anything else.