This is an AI-generated transcript from auto-generated subtitles for the video Andrea Fella: "The Mind of Freedom" Class 3 of 3. It likely contains inaccuracies.
The Mind of Freedom (3 of 3) - Andrea Fella
The following talk was given by Andrea Fella at The Sati Center in Redwood City, CA on September 26, 2024. Please visit the website www.audiodharma.org for more information.
The Mind of Freedom (3 of 3)
These last few weeks we've been exploring several suttas that point towards how our minds work. The first week we talked a little bit about how our ordinary minds tend to engage in the world, that process of experiencing something and then feeling it, perceiving it, thinking about it, and carrying on from there to identify, proliferate, and then subsequently seeing the world from those perspectives that have been created by our minds.
Then last week we talked about how we might begin to watch these processes, see them, see how these processes work. The experience or the exploration of seeing these processes at work has a very freeing result. It doesn't seem like it would in some ways. The simplicity of the Bahiya Sutta1, the teaching where the Buddha offers this simple exploration of just recognize what's happening while it's happening. He says, "You should train yourself: in reference to the seen there will be only the seen, in reference to the heard there will be only the heard, in reference to the sensed there will be only the sensed, in reference to the cognized there will be only the cognized. This is how you should train yourself."
At the surface, without unpacking it, without really diving into the meaning of it, it sounds like nothing. You know, it sounds like, "Yeah, you know, so I know I'm angry while I'm angry, what's the big deal?" But the perspective that he's pointing to here is not one of simple knowing. I think we have all known we were angry while we're angry, and we are engaged in that anger. We are not looking at, "Oh, what is it like to feel a human being that is angry?" That's the difference. That's the difference, that perspective of, "Oh, what is it like to be a human being experiencing seeing, experiencing hearing, experiencing movement, experiencing things happening in our mind?" What is it like to be experiencing what is happening while it's happening?
The Honeyball Sutta points to how the process of selfing and papañca2 enter into the picture. When we see something, we tend to think about it in terms of me, in terms of how it relates to me. That's our typical way of exploring experience. The Bahiya Sutta encourages us to simply recognize it is experience, including the experience of the sense of self. That too is just another process that can be recognized.
So in the last couple of weeks, we've been exploring some of this. My exploration of the Bahiya Sutta, at least in practice, is not to try to stop things at seeing or hearing, not to somehow come in here and cut things off, but rather to see what is happening. To notice that seeing is happening and that there are thoughts that follow, then that can be known as, "Oh, thinking is happening, there's a thought that is arising." If a sense of self is arising, that can be seen. That's my approach to exploring the Bahiya. As we explore that very simple kind of teaching, we begin to see how our minds are not so simple. And then we can see that the seeing of it begins to simplify it.
So tonight, I'd like to talk further about the mind of freedom. This third sutta that I put in the handouts is the Kalakarama Sutta. I wanted to approach things in a little bit more of a meditative way today, instead of quite so much of an intellectual way.
There are a lot of different places in the suttas where there are explorations of what the mind of freedom is like. One particular one that I like comes from a collection of poems in the Sutta Nipata3 called the Atthakavagga. That collection of poems is understood to be very old teachings. There are places in the texts where it actually refers to these teachings, saying, "Do you remember that teaching, the Atthakavagga? Do you have that one memorized?" It was actually encouraged to memorize this set of poems.
This set of teachings has 16 poems, and each of the poems falls into one of three categories. They either talk about our minds in their ordinary ways, what it's like for our ordinary minds being caught in craving and struggle and stress. Then there are some poems with the flavor of what it is like to have a mind that is free. And then there are a set of poems that talk about how one might get from one to the other, poems about the path of practice.
The one I'd like to share just a few verses from tonight is from one of those poems that describe someone who is free. It's a different perspective than the Kalakarama Sutta. I'll just let it speak for itself, and then we'll talk about it after I read it. In this poem, someone comes to the Buddha and asks him to describe someone who is free or peaceful.
The questioner asks: "Having what vision, being of what character is one called peaceful? Gotama, tell me about the supreme person."
The Buddha responds: "A person who is not angered, not frightened, not boastful, not fretful, who gives wise advice, who is calm, restrained in speech, who is indeed a sage. A person who is not attached to the future, who does not sorrow over the past, who finds solitude amidst sense contact and is not guided by fixed views. A person who is retiring, not deceitful, not covetous, not greedy, not impudent, not arousing contempt, who does not engage in malicious speech. A person who does not relish pleasure, who is not arrogant, who is mild and of ready wit, who is not credulous, who by nothing is repelled. A person who does not take on the training in hopes of material gain, who is unperturbed if they get nothing, who is not hampered by wishes and not greedy for flavors. A person who is even-tempered, ever attentive, who does not suppose that in the world they are equal, superior, or inferior, who is free of conceit. A person for whom there are no tethers, who knowing truth is not tethered in any way, and in whom no wishes are found for existence or non-existence. This is someone I call peaceful."
Something that's striking to me about this description is that it speaks in everyday language. We know what it's like when somebody's angry, frightened, boastful, fretful, and he's saying it's not that. He's speaking in everyday terms, not in very esoteric terms. It's a description of what it might be like to meet this person. It's an image or a picture of freedom from the outside, in a way. There are a few things in here that go a little bit more into the inside of their mind, like "ever attentive" or "does not suppose in the world they are equal, superior, or inferior," but a lot of it is just an ordinary description, but framed in the negative. That's the other notable thing for me about this teaching: it's a description of what somebody is not. It's what has fallen away.
I think in a way, that teaching is a nice reminder that freedom can be felt, can be tasted in daily life. It can express itself in life; it's not just something in our minds. It will be recognized. Somebody free will be recognized.
I also think that putting things in the negative like that leaves a lot of room for different expressions of freedom, for people to manifest their unique expression of being without craving. For some, that might look like being an activist. For others, it might look like being very secluded. When things fall away, there's a lot of room for different ways that people can behave. It doesn't say they will disappear and never be seen again. To me, that's inspiring, that there can be so many different expressions of freedom. I've experienced people like that, different expressions of freedom I've met in the Sagaing Hills in Burma, practicing. I got to meet several different monks living in the Sagaing Hills, and they had such different ways of being. One was that very retiring, quiet monk. He lived in this monastery that had a cave in it, and when I walked into that monastery, it just felt so quiet. I just got the hit of the solitude, of the quietude of his mind, just by walking into his monastery. And another monk was just so happy, you know, he was laughing all the time. He was very playful, and it was a very different feeling. So that makes me happy. What is our own expression of freedom?
The Kalakarama Sutta is another teaching that describes freedom, but it describes it more from the inside. The Buddha is describing what his mind is like, what it's like to be living in the mind of freedom with an awakened mind. And also in this sutta, it mostly describes what's not happening, which seems to be a theme in the description of awakening. It's not what's there, but what's not there.
So what I'd like to do is explore it in a slightly more reflective way. I'm going to read it three times. The first time, I'll just read it, and I'd like you to just listen. I encourage you to just let the words land. There may be things that don't make any sense, pieces that don't resonate at all; just let those go. There may be other pieces that feel like there's some resonance, and maybe there's not even a sense of why it's resonant, but just let that resonate however it resonates. Treat this like a poem, not trying to think it through or figure it out, but feel how it lands as you hear it.
The second time, we'll go through it more slowly, and I'll talk about my own reflections, how I've understood it, to unpack some of the meaning that I found useful. Again, just take it in, seeing what lands, what makes sense, and what doesn't. And then I'll read it a third time, just to see if there's a little bit of a difference in how it lands for you after we've gone through it and studied it a little bit. And then we'll have some time for some questions.
So, I'll start with the first reading. I'm not going to read the whole sutta, just a couple of sections.
Whatever is seen, heard, sensed, cognized, reached, sought after, examined by the mind, that I have directly known. It has been known by the Tathāgata4, but the Tathāgata did not become subservient to it.
I'm going to read that part again with a slightly different translation.
Whatever is seen, heard, sensed, cognized, attained, sought after, and pondered over by the mind, that do I know. Whatever is seen, heard, sensed, cognized, attained, sought after, and pondered over by the mind, all that has been fully understood and known to the Tathāgata, but the Tathāgata has not taken his stand on it.
Thus, a Tathāgata does not conceive of a visible thing as apart from sight, does not conceive of an unseen, does not conceive of a thing worth seeing, does not conceive about a seer.
The Tathāgata does not conceive of an audible thing as apart from hearing, does not conceive of an unheard, does not conceive of a thing worth hearing, does not conceive about a hearer.
He does not conceive of a thing to be sensed apart from sensation, does not conceive of an unsensed, does not conceive of a thing worth sensing, does not conceive about one who senses.
The Tathāgata does not conceive of a cognizable thing as apart from cognition...
So let's go through this. There's one word that makes its appearance over and over again, and that is "conceiving." "Does not conceive of a visible thing as apart from sight, does not conceive of an unseen, does not conceive of a thing worth seeing, does not conceive about a seer."
The suttas describe conceiving as an activity related to selfing, and it is often connected to a kind of comparing. The phrase that was in the poem I read, "one does not suppose that in the world they are equal, superior, or inferior," that is one of the ways conceiving or conceit is understood—this relational comparing of ourselves to others: same, better than, less than.
There are also places where it speaks to a subtler process, a sense of "I am" or "me," things happening to "me," that doesn't necessarily have that relationship to another person but may have a relationship to something. Conceiving is closely connected to that activity of papañca that we spent quite a bit of time with in the first meeting when we talked about the Honeyball Sutta. In fact, the commentaries trace both of them as springing from the same source: craving, conceit, and views.
Papañca, just as a little refresher, is that process that springs off of perception and thinking. It's this mental proliferation. It's often translated as "mental proliferation," kind of the mind running amok. A lot of proliferation of thought might be one of the more gross or obvious kinds of flavors of papañca, but there are subtler flavors also. Papañca can be understood not necessarily as anything related to thought in particular, but more the sense of reification. The processes of our minds—of seeing, smelling, hearing, tasting—create a sight, a sound, a smell, a taste, a touch, a mental object. And then the process of papañca is the reification or the objectification, the making that process into a thing. The sight is a sight; that's a result of a process. The process of seeing then experiences that sight. It's all just a process, but in that process, what often happens is this separation, this reification, where there becomes something seen as a thing and one who is seeing it.
So we can talk about papañca as the "thing-making" and the separation, the insertion of a process of "I" or "me" in the whole tumbling on of sense experience. I sometimes think about conceiving and papañca as being like two sides of the same process. Maybe conceiving is more the side of the process that's about the mind's creation of the "I," the self, that believing that that self is somehow standalone.
Let's look at each of those four elaborations. The first one: "The Tathāgata does not conceive of a visible thing as apart from sight." To me, that brings in the whole process-nature of seeing. There's seeing that happens, and the sight arises. There's a recognition of the sight, a mental process of recognizing that happens. What might it be like in a mind that does not conceive of a visible thing as apart from sight? To me, it doesn't mean that sight doesn't happen, or that the seeing process isn't happening. Seeing is happening. The sight that's seen is simply part of the process of seeing. In fact, the process of seeing makes the sight and then recognizes it. It's all a process of our bodies and minds doing their thing. The sight that's seen is not separate from this process of seeing. This points to the radical understanding that what we are experiencing is created by our minds. Not creating that sense of an object, a thing, and a self knowing that object.
The second one: "does not conceive of an unseen." That one's a little harder for me. The commentaries say that what this one means is that the Tathāgata does not conceive, "I am seeing something that the great mass of people do not see." That brings in the whole notion of a superiority complex. But that seems like an odd way to put it. What resonated for me is thinking of it as the flip side of not creating a visible thing apart from sight. The understanding that everything I'm experiencing is created in the mind, that the only thing I experience is mind-made, could lead to a view or a conceiving that there is nothing out there upon which this construction is founded. It might lead to the idea that there's no objective reality out there. So for me, it's like not creating a visible thing apart from sight, and also not creating the idea that there's nothing out there.
Then, "does not conceive of a thing worth seeing." This one is easier for me to land with. This is where craving has entered in. "I want to see that," or "I want to hear that," or "I want to sense that," or "I want to know that." That's a big one. We probably can't make ourselves not feel like we want to know something, but we can recognize when "wanting to know something" is happening, is an arising, and notice how that is experienced. Again, using the Bahiya Sutta's instruction: "in the cognized is only the cognized." Wanting to know is a cognized phenomenon arising in the mind.
And the last one: "does not conceive of one who sees." This is the real sense-of-self side of the whole process. It does not conceive of a "me."
So, I'll go back through and read this again. Just see how it lands. Maybe close your eyes and just take in the words.
Whatever is seen, heard, sensed, cognized, attained, sought over, and pondered over by the mind, all that do I know. Whatever is seen, heard, sensed, cognized, attained, sought after, and pondered over by the mind, all that has been fully understood, all that is known to the Tathāgata, but the Tathāgata has not taken his stand on it.
Thus, a Tathāgata does not conceive of a visible thing as apart from sight, does not conceive of an unseen, does not conceive of a thing worth seeing, does not conceive about a seer.
He does not conceive of an audible thing as apart from hearing, does not conceive of an unheard, does not conceive of a thing worth hearing, does not conceive about one who hears.
A Tathāgata does not conceive of a thing to be sensed as apart from sensation, does not conceive of an unsensed, does not conceive of a thing worth sensing, does not conceive about one who senses.
He does not conceive of a cognizable thing apart from cognition, does not conceive of an uncognized, does not conceive of a thing worth cognizing, does not conceive about one who cognizes.
Q&A
Question from Mike: What came up for me about "does not conceive of an unseen" was the idea that you see something and then the mind does not go on. You see a flower, and don't start thinking about all the other unseen flowers that reminded you of, or the last time you saw this flower. It's not my flower, it's just a flower.
Andrea Fella: That's a nice way to look at it. All the unseen flowers that are not being seen now. Yeah, that's great. And even deeper than that, it's just seeing. Yeah, thanks Mike.
Question from Joyce: Could this be imagination? You're anticipating something. I keep thinking about going to Yosemite, so you think about, "I'm going to see Half Dome," but you don't do that if you're the Tathāgata.
Andrea Fella: Yes, the mind doesn't go into the future or the past. I think we have to have the capacity to think about the future to live our lives, but the use of the word "imagining" is interesting because that is how one scholar, Ñāṇananda, translates "conceiving." He says, "'I am' is an imagining. 'This I am' is an imagining. 'I shall be' is an imagining. 'I shall not be' is an imagining... Imagining is a disease, imagining is an abscess, imagining is a barb. Therefore you should tell yourselves, 'We shall dwell with a mind free from imaginings.' Thus you should train yourself." So here again, he's tying it to this process of "I am-ing." When we think about going to Yosemite, it's like we're almost living in that world. We've driven up there, we're looking at Half Dome.
Comment from Brooke: It just strikes me how consistent this view is with modern science. We see something, it's photons bouncing off an object that enter our retina, and that is actually flipped upside down and projected to our visual cortex, which then flips it right side up again. It's just the process of our visual cortex is what we actually experience. It's all in there.
Andrea Fella: It's quite amazing. And I think sometimes I come back to the modern science definition of it to help me understand some of what he's saying. Because it's like, yeah, I know from modern science that what I am experiencing is all made in my mind. And I do think there are photons bouncing off something out there.
Comment from Augusta: I feel like tonight I heard the word "conceiving" and I thought about conception and the creation of another being, like the birth of something.
Andrea Fella: Yes, conceiving is that conception, it is the birth of something. And we can think about that in terms of dependent origination; it actually talks about birth there.
Comment from Stan: I read a wonderful book called "An Immense World," and in that book, they talked about the felt world of a whole series of different animals and how their minds and senses create that felt world. I think that's basically what we're talking about here, that there is this felt world that is created by all of the different resources that are there for the purpose of our surviving as an animal. What we're talking about is all the ways that get in the way of that happening.
Andrea Fella: I would say it's not that our process of conceiving gets in the way of those processes; those processes go on. I'd say the process of conceiving is a misunderstanding of those processes. It's putting something into that process that's not actually there.
Footnotes
Bahiya Sutta: Original transcript said "beas the the teaching" or "beia suta". Corrected to "Bahiya Sutta" based on the context of the teaching being quoted. This discourse in the Udāna (Ud 1.10) is famous for its concise instruction on mindfulness. ↩
Papañca: A Pali term that refers to the tendency of the mind to proliferate thoughts, concepts, and perceptions, often leading to attachment, conflict, and suffering. It's sometimes translated as "mental proliferation" or "conceptual proliferation." ↩
Sutta Nipata: One of the oldest collections of discourses in the Pali Canon, part of the Khuddaka Nikāya. It contains poetic dialogues and teachings of the Buddha. ↩
Tathāgata: A Pali and Sanskrit word meaning "one who has thus gone" or "one who has thus come." It is the term the Buddha used most often to refer to himself or to other Buddhas. ↩