The Dhamma talk was given on the 20th of June 2018 at the World Fellowship of Buddhists

The topic for this evening is ‘Not Sure!’ Sitting on Sukhumvit Road and not moving in a vehicle, with the evening scheduled to begin at 6:30 and realizing it had already passed that time, I thought: ‘That’s a very good introduction for this evening – Not Sure! – When’s Ajahn Amaro going to arrive? Is he going to arrive? What will happen? It’s uncertain (My Naer). We don’t know. It’s not a sure thing.’ So that was an unplanned but useful preparation for this evening because this is the principle we are investigating here. It’s a part of all of our lives. So, I will offer a few reflections this evening on this theme and hopefully some of the things that I say would be useful for you.

When we meet with a feeling of uncertainty usually what we do is we feel worried, we feel threatened. We don’t know what’s going to happen in the future so what we tend to do is to try to fill up that unknown with a plan or a hope or a belief. We fill it with ideas of what might happen.

We often distract ourselves: ‘I don’t want to think about the future. I don’t want to worry about that. So, I’ll just look at my phone and catch up on my Facebook friends or see what communication I have coming through Line, what’s on the news or something.’ We thus deal with that feeling of worry or uncertainty with choosing distraction or, alternatively, we just switch off – we go blank, go numb and shut the world down, disengage all together. We do this because the feeling of not being sure is something that most of us don’t like and we relate to it as a problem, that feeling of anxiety, uncertainty. We automatically think of it as a problem, something that’s unwelcome.

From a talk given on the winter retreat, Chithurst, February 1991

Gotama Buddha said, when he was an old man, “This body is like an old cart, held together by straps; this body only keeps going by makeshift repairs. The only way I can feel comfortable is to absorb my mind into signless concentration.”

For all of us, the Buddha included, we are faced with the inevitable presence of dissatisfaction and physical discomfort. Ever present is the danger of pain and disease, because we are born. Because there is a physical birth, there must be physical decay, the two have to go together, they are one thing. Thus our only true refuge is the Deathless, that which is not subject to disease, not subject to defilement, not subject to time or to limitation, that which is unsupported. In this way, returning to our source, the Deathless, is our only way to cure disease, the only way to pass beyond it.

This returning to the Source, or realizing the Deathless, is the sense of coming to know the source of our life, the origin of our life. Because it is the very fabric of our life, the basis of our existence, it is something that has been exerting a power of attraction on us all through our life, the attraction of Truth, of the Real, the completely satisfying, the completely safe.

This story is intended to be both a partner to the novel The Pilgrim Kamanita, written by Karl Gjellerup in 1906, and a tale that stands on its own. There is no need to have read the earlier book in order to make sense of this one; however, should you wish to go to the source from which many of the characters and scenes of this tale have sprung, an English version of it is to be found here.

Today is the 100th day after the passing away of the king of Thailand: His Majesty King Bhumibol Adulyadej. Also, at this time, a good friend of the sangha, Yom Ploen Petchkua, is very close to the end of her life. She was diagnosed with five brain tumours a few months ago and I had the chance to go down and see her with Ajahn Pasanno, and a number of monastic and lay friends in December, in her hometown in Songkla, southern Thailand.

Reflecting on these people – the king of Thailand and Yom Ploen – it is said in our Buddhist way of regarding things that these are people who have created a lot of merit, a lot of puñña in their lives. The king of Thailand dedicated himself, for the 70 years that he was on the throne, through living in a skilful way and endeavouring to establish wholesome principles of conduct in the hearts of the Thai people, to help them in genuine, practical and efficient ways: developing water systems, gardening systems, systems of communication and so forth. Yom Ploen has been very involved in supporting our monasteries and helping to publish many Dhamma books. In the last few days I have been conscious of giving away books that she was directly involved in producing books about the funeral of Luang Por Chah and the foundation of Amaravati. Over the years she has been responsible for bringing into being dozens of different Dhamma books.

Although it has been my intention that this book should be, as far as possible, a biography as opposed to a hagiography, I am not sure that I have been completely successful. My love for Luang Por and my belief in his enlightenment inevitably colour the text. What I have not done is suppress any scandalous or embarrassing information out of concern for his good name. Hard as it may be to accept nowadays when there is so much – and often well-founded – cynicism about the integrity of religious figures, Luang Por Chah had absolutely nothing to hide. The only skeleton in a cupboard at Wat Pah Pong was the one hanging on public display in the Dhamma Hall. In fact, that is one of the strongest reasons for my belief that the life of Luang Por Chah is so worthy of study.

All those that remember him have their own Ajahn Chah. This book represents mine. If it includes any mistakes or oversights I accept full responsibility, and ask for your forgiveness.