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Growing in the Dharma - Tanya Wiser

The following talk was given by Tanya Wiser at Insight Meditation Center in Redwood City, CA on May 13, 2024. Please visit the website www.audiodharma.org for more information.

Growing in the Dharma

Good morning. I see some new faces—hello, I’m Tanya, nice to meet you. And those I know, good to see you too.

Today is Mother’s Day, so I will weave this theme into the talk. I’ll expand the definition of "mother" to include all the growing and nurturing that we all do inside of ourselves and for others.

I’m going to share a sutta¹ with you today. It’s known as "The Ship" or "The Chick, the Adze, and the Ship." It’s a sutta where one of the parts is about chickens and hatching eggs. But first, a few reflections on motherhood.

When I think about mothering and I think about being mothered, I just want to put my hand on my heart. It’s not easy. It’s been a huge part of my practice—both dealing with my own internalized mother and dealing with myself as a mother. All of us have the mother in us.

I read a quote this morning from Maria Popova’s beautiful email newsletter. She quotes an author who says about motherhood: "It's hard to love and let go at the same time." Similarly, it’s hard to provide safety and danger at the same time. The love, the safety, the letting go, the danger—all are important. We actually have to let our kids experience difficulty; we need to experience difficulty to grow. So it's a very challenging thing.

I’m wearing green today. Green represents growth for me in nature. I have a poem that my son wrote when he was in grade school, and I’ll start with this:

I love you the greenest, the color of all the leaves, the color of watermelon.

I also have a poem by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer, but before I go onto that, I'll say a little bit more about growth. I have a quote from Dr. Kamilah Majied, who was interviewed in Tricycle magazine recently. She says:

"Now we can recognize ourselves as part of the community of beings forever coming to know, forever unlearning what we thought was reality because we're growing. You're not growing if you know everything."

For me, this is a huge part of practice and life: this ability to be present and to continue to evolve and grow and show up for the moment as it is, because it's always different. We get pretty stuck in our ideas of what is, our beliefs, our expectations of how it should be. We’ll see more about that when we get to the sutta.

Here is the poem by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer, called "Motherhood":

Today again I praise the beaver who spends her life building, rebuilding, rebuilding her lodge where her young will live with small sticks and big sticks and tall solid trunks with logs and rocks and mud. With her teeth she builds a home, builds it on moving water because rain because snow because warm because cold because flow because flow because flow. Her home is forever in need of repair. And so, on a day when a surprise storm has flooded the stream and washed much of my lodge away, I honor the beaver—stalwart, resilient, habitual. I notice the longing to move to land. Then I gather new sticks of courage, stones of forgiveness, logs of compassion, and the deep sticky mud of love. I wade to the middle of the current. I, like all the mothers, I build this home again.

There’s a theme in here about the flow—the changing flow and growth. In the poem, there’s this one line where she’s talking about the surprise storm that has washed away most of her lodge, and then she says, "I notice the longing to move to land." To me, this is the desire to cling, to make things solid, to move out of the flow of life.

The Chick, the Adze, and the Ship

We'll now move into the sutta (Samyutta Nikaya 22.101). I’ll be going in and out and explaining some of the things the sutta says, sharing my reflections. This is not to say this is the right interpretation of the sutta, but this is how this sutta helps me see my practice as it is right now. As you hear the sutta, you may have other things that arise for you as well—welcome them.

As usual, the sutta starts by saying where this is taking place: at Savatthi.

There the Blessed One said: "I tell you, monks, it is for one who knows and sees that there is the ending of the asava²..."

I’m going to come back to that word "asava," or effluence.

"...for one who knows and sees. Sees what? Such is form, such its origination, such its passing away. Such are its fabrications, such is consciousness, such is its origination, such is its passing away. It is for one who knows and sees in this way that there is the ending of the effluence."

The word "effluence" (asava) comes from a Latin verb affluere, "to flow out." In an older meaning, an effluent was a stream flowing out of a river or a lake. Nowadays, effluent almost always means waste that pours out into water or air. You might think of it as things that pollute or block, things that cause suffering.

From the practice perspective, on the night of his awakening, the Buddha focused his attention not on concentration and altered states, but on the mental process of trying to develop skillful mental states—the opposite of the effluents. He sat down to cultivate skillful states of mind, and he did it in a way which did not reference himself. This is very important. It turns out that when we start to think "I'm doing this, this is mine, this is me," we are clogging the flow. We stop things up; we pollute it with this identification and clinging. It prevents this natural flow of life from happening. So, without referring to himself, he just worked on cultivating wholesome, skillful states of mind.

Back to the sutta. He says this is what we do: we sit down and we cultivate this understanding. We see the effluents end by noticing feeling, noticing our perceptions, the way we're fabricating consciousness—seeing all this clearly, simply, without identification.

Then he talks about a monk who wants to be free but doesn't do the work:

"Even though this wish may occur to a monk who dwells without devoting himself to development—'O that my mind might be released from the effluents through lack of clinging!'—still his mind is not released from the effluents through lack of clinging. Why is that? From lack of developing, it should be said."

He lists the things that should be developed: the seven sets of qualities termed the "Wings to Awakening" (Bodhipakkhiyādhammā)³. These supportive qualities are the wings that carry us to freedom. In Majjhima Nikaya 103, the Buddha tells his followers: "If you see me as sympathetic, seeking your well-being... then you should train yourself in the qualities I have pointed out."

The Hen and the Chicks

Now, back to the chick.

"Suppose a hen has eight, ten, or twelve eggs: If she doesn't cover them rightly, warm them rightly, or incubate them rightly, then even though this wish may occur to her—'O that my chicks might break through the eggshells with their spiked claws or beaks and hatch out safely!'—still it is not possible that the chicks will break through the eggshells safely. Why is that? Because the hen has not covered them rightly, warmed them rightly, or incubated them rightly."

For me, the Buddha is pointing to the fact that we can want to get free, but if we don't do the work—if we don't sit and cultivate and gestate—it’s not going to happen.

Conversely, the Buddha goes on to say that if a monk is practicing, even if he doesn't have the wish to get free, his mind can still be released by developing these wholesome, skillful qualities and letting go. We don't have to want to get free; we just have to practice. The hen doesn't have to want the eggs to hatch; she just has to sit on them rightly. She does the work, and they hatch.

Let's step out of the sutta and talk about chickens and eggs. This simile is of course very relevant to motherhood, but it's also relevant to all of us. We all have the capacity to develop and cultivate all kinds of states, actions, and ways of being. Some of them require a lot of patience. We can't be sitting on our eggs checking every five minutes: "Am I there yet? Is it here yet?" Or cracking them open trying to help. There are stories about trying to help butterflies out of cocoons, and it just doesn't work. Same with chicks—they need to get their own way out of their eggs.

There's a poignancy for me around our practice, and growth, and life, and watching our children or loved ones: sitting back and letting there be this process. Undergoing the flowing of the river, not trying to control it too much, not getting it blocked up. Love and letting go. Incubation and gestation.

Sometimes you hear people talk about "building a practice," like planting a seed. You plant the seed and let it grow. You can't dig it up to see how the roots are doing. We have to just trust. There is a lot of trust required: tending, patience, trust, and the right conditions. Just like the chicken creates the conditions. The egg is maybe just a symbol for what is deeply possible within us all, regardless of gender or fertility.

This patience, this practice of creating these conditions, is really our practice. We consistently help ourselves to remember to let go of identification, to let go of the wanting and the not wanting, just constantly meeting this moment. Sayadaw U Tejaniya says something to the effect of: if we sit long enough, the eggs hatch. If we are present and aware when that happens, it's really rewarding and encouraging.

When we start to have wisdom about how we're showing up for our practice and life, the mind starts to feel joy. As wisdom grows and as we see this process, we have joy, and it grows our faith and our trust. It’s very motivating.

Thanissaro Bhikkhu talks about this idea of cultivating the skillful. He says:

"The principle of skillful karma⁴ formed both the how and the what of that Awakening that the Buddha experienced. The Buddha was able to reach Awakening only by developing skill for karma, and his understanding of the process of developing this skillful karma is what sparked the insights that constituted his Awakening."

The Carpenter's Adze

The Buddha then offers another simile to talk about this process of growth and cultivation. He talks about a carpenter or a carpenter's apprentice.

"Just as when a carpenter or a carpenter's apprentice sees the marks of his fingers or thumb on the handle of his adze but does not know, 'Today my adze handle wore down this much, or yesterday it wore down that much, or the day before yesterday it wore down this much,' still he knows it is worn away when it is worn away."

Over time, wooden tools that are handled over and over again wear down. Slowly there are imprints in the wood from the hands. In the same way, the monk doesn't know, "Today my effluents wore down this much." It just happens. Eventually, we start to see some evidence of it.

An example of how this can happen on retreat or in our practice is that if we keep staying present, if we keep meeting this moment with mindfulness, we can start to notice the mind states that arise. We can start to witness it. The closer we are to the moment, the more closely we are to witnessing the hatching.

For me, a really beautiful place for practice is bringing awareness to suffering, which I like to translate as pain. Pain is a messenger; it is necessary and a signal for us to pay attention. I really like to notice when I'm suffering. When I bring my awareness to it, I can sort of soften into it with curiosity, opening to what's happening. And then sometimes, there's a moment of just all of a sudden going, "Oh, I get it."

Maybe it's as simple as seeing the thought pattern that's causing suffering—just this chain of thoughts I've been caught in, this loop that keeps hurting. There can be this moment of going, "Oh, I don't have to keep thinking that way." When you see this, there is this huge energy that can arise, joy that can arise. This feeling of, "Okay, I have a choice here." It's like putting your foot down over here instead of over there. All of a sudden, you're walking on a different path. Your mind is on a different path because you've decided—enough of your system, your awareness, your wisdom, and your heart have all gone, "I don't want to do that anymore. It hurts."

If we can then witness, "Oh look, this shift is there. It feels better," we are recognizing the birth of wisdom and faith from meeting suffering. That faith, that joy, brings energy. And that energy supports our mindfulness, our ability to keep staying present.

It's not going to happen every time. But it will happen if you stay in the practice, stay present. Sometimes it's a big letting go, sometimes it's a little letting go. But wow, every little letting go is powerful—especially if we stay with it and appreciate it and choose it. Because we can also so quickly just go back to what was painful. So easy.

The Ship

There is one more simile in the sutta. It’s about a ship.

"Just as when an oceangoing ship, rigged with masts and stays, after six months on the water, is left on the shore for the winter: its stays, weathered by heat and wind, moistened by the clouds of the rainy season, easily wither and rot away. In the same way, when a monk dwells devoting himself to development, his fetters easily wither and rot away."

For me, this emphasizes sitting with suffering, just sitting. I love this image of "under the weather." The sun, to me, is a symbol of awareness—of seeing, of putting our light on something. And the weathering of it—just the letting it be seen. The rain and the storms feel so much like dukkha⁵ to me. Sitting with this wisdom, seeing and feeling the difficulty consistently over time... his fetters easily wither and rot away. The weather does the work of letting go.

Something really important for us to know when I talk about sitting with our pain: there are a lot of things going on in life that are very difficult inside of me and around me, but I can be okay. I can be comfortable when that's happening. I don't have to be depressed. I don't have to be miserable. As long as I'm growing, as long as I'm practicing, I know it's going to be okay.

Being a mom has been a huge motivation for me to focus my attention directly on suffering and on cultivating skillful states. It has given me so much urgency around my practice at times. You watch your children growing, you go through difficult times, and you think, "I've got to get this right. I have got to get through this." We can see things and know our patterns and our reactivity, but we can't just stop it. We can't just make it disappear. It has to weather. It has to be seen under the light. It has to sit on the shore. It takes time.

Unlearning

To reinforce this point, back to Majjhima Nikaya 2:

"They attend appropriately: This is stress... This is the origination of stress... This is the cessation of stress... This is the way leading to the cessation of stress."

This is how we attend. These are the Four Noble Truths. Just practicing attending with the understanding of these Four Noble Truths. The Buddha goes on to say: "As they attend appropriately in this way, the fetters are abandoned. The effluents are abandoned."

We all have our things that we want to get free of. I was really inspired by the way Dr. Kamilah Majied framed this. Her book is about justice and racism. This is one of the things I aspire to be free of: the conditioning of bias. She believes that for her, the fight for justice can be and has been joyful. This is what the Buddha says: if we engage with our dukkha with wisdom, if we see that there is another way, faith arises, energy arises, joy arises.

She says this beautiful thing: "In her view, justice is inexorable from joy, and it involves accessing the inner joy that is available to us when we treat ourselves and others as enlightened beings." She says:

"The more we step out of what we believe to be our comfort zone, the bigger that zone grows until the whole world is our comfort zone."

But it's not comfort in the sense of "I feel good all the time." We're going to be very distressed if we expect to feel good all the time. And this brings us back to that quote I shared earlier: "Forever unlearning what we thought was reality because we're growing. You're not growing if you know everything."

We have to counterbalance the mind's natural tendency to learn for efficacy. The brain learns things and stores them in memory. The older we get, the more we've got stored, so the more we have to unlearn. We get taught things from all kinds of sources—advertisements, parents, friends—and it all comes in. Some of it gets stored and becomes a reference point for our beliefs about what it is to be a mother, about other people, about ourselves. All of these things have been grown over time, and very unconsciously stored within us. None of us are free of this.

If we can bring a lot of curiosity to witnessing what the mind is generating, and bring more of the awareness of "Right here, right now, what is this in this moment?", we start to help uncouple what was stored—most of it without choice. We can re-couple if we stay present with what's happening now. The unlearning and then the learning. But awareness is essential for the whole process.

"Forever unlearning what we thought was reality because we're growing." Because every time you meet a tree, it's a new tree. If you don't watch out, you're going to just see it as the word "tree," however it's stored in your mind. It just becomes a thing instead of something unique and beautiful and green and alive and growing.

Q&A

Genie: I really like this talk. What you were describing at the end—is that what you would call "Skillful Karma"? Because I never heard that before.

Tanya: Skillful Karma... I didn't really go into the seven Wings of Awakening, but those are the qualities. For example, the Five Faculties are one of the seven lists: Faith, Energy, Mindfulness, Calm (or Concentration), and Wisdom. Developing these would be skillful karma—to have cultivated these skillful ways of being present.

Participant: Was the entire sutta about the beavers and the chickens from MN 2?

Tanya: No, I think it's Samyutta Nikaya 22.101.

Jen: My question is about how you referenced faith. I was raised as a Catholic, so I'm familiar with what faith has been to me, but I don't understand it in this scenario.

Tanya: Great question. I like three words that can be alternately considered: Faith, Trust (which has been my harbor), and Confidence. Maybe it can be thought of as a continuum. The Buddha teaches us that he doesn't want us to just have faith in what he says. He wants us to take what he says and practice with it so that we grow trust in the practice itself. We see the unfolding of the practice; we witness things like I was describing. So our faith then over time becomes absolute confidence. Don't ever just accept anything that is taught to you.

Abby: I like the idea of forever unlearning things, but it invokes a sense of conflict within me. The way I understand it, the Buddha says look at things like processes rather than solid objects. But that directly contradicts the way we live life, because our sense of security comes from things being a certain way. How do we find a balance between a conventional life and this?

Tanya: It's not a problem to live a conventional life. It's not a problem to love people, to have family, to have commitments, to have jobs. It's not a problem to have desires. The problem lies in our attachment to those things, our clinging to those things, our wanting to control those things, and thinking that they're ours. It's really about our relationship to conventional life, not the objects themselves. It's about letting life flow, letting people change, letting ourselves change—even when we're not really wanting to sometimes.

Notice where you're clinging. Notice where you're wanting things to be different than the way they are, or not wanting them to change. Track that space, because that's the space where dukkha will arise. That is your teacher. We have to keep unlearning, because if we are looking at what's happening from a fixated point of view, we're not going to see the truth of why there's pain there, and then we're never motivated to let go.

Participant: I just wanted to express my gratitude. My daughter and I have been listening to talks from Insight Meditation Center for like 14 years, and this is our first time in person. When you talked about acknowledging the tree, I’m like, "That tree out front is really special." I just sat here and was really present in the moment, and I feel like I'm home.

Tanya: Welcome. Happy Mother’s Day to you all—inner mothers.