"I thought I would begin by offering a few reflections about equanimity or upekkhā. This is one of the most significant psychological, emotional qualities talked about in the Buddhist tradition. However, because we commonly translate the word upekkhā in English as ‘equanimity’, it can easily be overlooked or seen as something a bit insignificant, not so practical or even heartwarming, as the word ‘equanimity’ in English can easily mean ‘indifference’, not really caring – it can be taken to be a switched-off, disconnected and somewhat numb attitude towards things."

Based on a talk given at Amaravati – 26-4-2020

The theme for this Dhamma talk is ‘My way or the Middle Way?’ As people might recognize, the title was borrowed from the famous Frank Sinatra song, written by Paul Anka, ‘My Way’, which is the supreme anthem of self-confidence:

Through it all, when there was doubt, I ate it up and spit it out. I faced it all and I stood tall, And did it my way!’

Confidence is definitely a part of the Buddhist path; having faith, having confidence and resolution, these are all aspects of it. But any of us who have spent much time in life trying to follow that voice of self-assurance, of, ‘Even though there is resistance and it is difficult, I’m just going to keep pushing. I will do it my way.’ Or when we are living in a community, or we are in a role of leadership, if we adopt the attitude of, ‘My way or the highway. Either you do it the way I want or you’re on your bike, you are kicked out’ – that leads to stress and difficulty and conflict. Reflecting on this theme, ‘My way or the Middle Way’, there are certainly beneficial aspects to the quality of self-confidence, self-assurance and resolution, but if that is out of balance, if that is wrapped up in self-view and selfcentred thinking, then necessarily the results are going to be painful. You might get what you want but then there might be a lot of wreckage as well, considerable damage created along the way. Probably most of us have had some situations in life where we have come to the conclusion, ‘Well, I got what I wanted, but was it really worth it?’ or ‘I didn’t realize it was going to be like this.’ Or ‘I thought this was going to make me happier. I got what I wanted but ugh!’

In terms of this theme and what would be useful for us to look at, I feel that it is good to consider the way that we work in life – how we relate to doing, to acting, to choosing, how intentions and actions work together. When we use the kind of confidence expressed by Frank Sinatra, ‘I am going to do it my way!’ if we take that approach in life and we act from a place of self-assertion and we just keep pushing – whether this is with our occupation, or working with our family, or working with the rest of the traffic on the road – if we have that kind of contentious attitude, ‘I am going to make this happen,’ since that is wrapped up with self-view, then any kind of work becomes exhausting. Even when we are working with our minds in the meditation hall, thinking, ‘I am going to get jhāna. I am going to make the Breakthrough, it’s Stream Entry or bust!’ This is a guaranteed way to create suffering. Even the work of training our mind to be peaceful can be stressful and exhausting if that work is based on self-view.

Over the last few years I have led residential retreats specifically on the theme of dependent origination on at least five occasions – at Amaravati in the U.K., in Mae Rim, Thailand, and with Le Refuge, at Monastère de Ségriès, in the south of France. Various aspects of this rich, essential theme of Buddhist teaching have been focused upon in these different situations, according to the interests and needs of the various communities. The booklet entitled ‘Just One More…’ – Appreciative Joy: Jealousy, Selfish Desire and the Buddha’s Teaching on the Cycles of Addiction was based on the material from one of these events, a ten-day retreat held at Amaravati in July 2013. Most of the material gathered in this present book was presented at a retreat in Provence, in April 2018; the remainder is from the Mae Rim retreats of 2016-18.

The subject of dependent origination is intrinsically rich and varied, subtle and multi-dimensional, as the Buddha expressed in this notable exchange with his disciple and attendant Ven. Ānanda:

Thus have I heard. On one occasion the Blessed One was living among the Kurus, near a town of theirs named Kammāsadhamma. There Ven. Ānanda approached the Blessed One and, on arrival, having bowed down to the Blessed One, sat to one side. As he was sitting there he said to the Blessed One: ‘It’s wonderful, venerable sir, it’s marvellous, how profound this dependent origination is, and how profound its appearance, and yet to me it appears as clear as clear can be.’ ‘Do not say that, Ānanda! Do not say that! This dependent origination is profound and it appears profound. It is through not understanding and not penetrating this Dhamma that this generation has become like a tangled ball of string, matted like a bird’s nest, tangled like coarse grass and is unable to pass beyond the cycles of rebirth, beyond the planes of deprivation, woe and bad destinations.’ (D 15.1)

There have already been many erudite and wise explorations of the subject published in English, such as Dependent Origination – The Buddha’s Law of Conditionality by Ven. P.A. Payutto; the collection of five chapters on the theme in Ajahn Sumedho’s book The Way It Is; Ajahn Buddhadāsa’s book Under the Bodhi Tree: Buddha’s Original Vision of Dependent Co-arising, as well as many others. The intention of this present volume, whilst acknowledging the already great storehouse of perspectives available, is to focus upon practical means of understanding and applying the principles of dependent origination in order to support the freeing of the heart from addictive and destructive cycles of attitude and behaviour. In particular the emphasis will be on the exit points from this ‘Wheel of Becoming’ (bhavacakka) this cyclical process where the mind feels itself to be imprisoned in a habitual round of promise, gratification and disappointment.

THE TITLE OF THIS BOOK, Mind Is What Matters, brings attention to attitude. It points to the enormous difference our attitude makes as the mind receives and processes experience, and it points to that aspect of Dhamma practice of making everything our teacher. In 2017 at our open retreat at Amaravati Monastery, there were over 400 people attending. Ajahn Sumedho gave teachings every evening, and other visiting ajahns offered instruction and led question-and-answer sessions daily. For some of us, it was a very inspiring time. There were a lot of illuminating and imaginative teachings; for me it was a truly encouraging and beautiful event. But what if someone else’s attitude had been different? Even though they were hearing inspiring teachings, they could have begun to think they were not enough. Or they could have compared one teacher to another, judging who was better. Even something as noble, beautiful, and wholesome as hearing Dhamma teachings could have become a cause of suffering, disappointment or discontent if the person had taken hold of the experience in an unskilful way. Our minds can easily get caught in judgment: ‘this’ is not as good as ‘that’, or ‘now’ is not quite as real or good as ‘that prospect off in the future’ or ‘that great time back in the past’. If this is what our mind is doing, we can look at it. This feeling of disappointment, this comparing mind, can become our teacher in this moment. If we are wise, everything will teach us: the weather, our memories, our physical condition, the environment, the people around us.

Sunday Talk on the 18th September 2016

Good afternoon to you all. The theme for the Sunday talk this week is ‘Forgiving and Compassion’ so I will offer some reflections around these significant areas of our lives. I will start with forgiving.

This is a very important aspect of spiritual training and, as a way of life, it is a counterpoint to the attitude of being unforgiving, the attitude of wanting revenge, carrying grudges around. It’s about working with those attitudes of mind where we are determined to hang onto our negativity and our hurts, and to wear those proudly upon our sleeves – all the wrongs that have been done to me, the things that were unforgivable – that we are habitually conditioned to carry around and make much of. Sometimes people find themselves building their entire lives around wanting revenge, or resenting something that’s happened to them in their life, there’s something in the heart that can’t forgive.

When I speak in this way, in case any of you are wondering, I’m not reading anybody’s mind. Oftentimes when one starts talking about these themes people think, ‘How did he know!’ Please be reassured that it’s just averages, the law of statistics and how life is for many of us. I cannot read people’s minds.

The theme for this afternoon’s talk is ‘Less is More – Frugality, Renunciation and Generosity’. I will focus on the frugality and renunciation aspects first of all and then get to generosity later on.

First of all, it struck me how, if we say that our usual philosophy in life is ‘more is better’, if ‘less is more’, then ‘less is better’ – if you follow the logic – which is a good way of summarizing this theme.

This is an important topic for our times. Probably the kind of people who gather together at a Buddhist monastery on a Sunday afternoon are not those overly committed to consumption (what we call the ‘consumer society’ as if we were just a mouth with legs on) but that doesn’t have to be the way we see ourselves, even though this is often the way that society and our value systems are conditioned to operate. In the very wonderful little book called Buddhist Economics by Venerable Payutto, a Thai philosopher monk, he succinctly describes classic economics as: ‘Maximum consumption leads to maximum happiness.’ It’s the basic ethic of the consumer society. The more you consume then the happier you are. Even though we might say, ‘I’m a Buddhist, I’m not like that!’ I think it’s helpful to reflect that, if we look around and we see our working life, our family life, the society we live in, a huge amount of our conditioning is like that. The more that you’ve got, the happier you should be, so there’s an enormous amount of drive to get more. Maybe it’s not physical possessions but at least more status or more Facebook followers or more Instagram followers, more likes, as well as the usual more property, more money and more approval and so forth. So that ‘more is better’ as an ethic for our society is very strong I would suggest; even if we’re not overtly materialistic, or we don’t see ourselves that way, that can still be a very powerful driving force. That said, this is also not solely a modern thing – the search for happiness through material possessions, through the sensory world – this has been part of our life in the human realm since distant ages past.

HISTORICALLY THERE HAVE BEEN differences of opinion about the relative merits of Theravada and Mahayana Buddhism and, if you read much of the literature, they would seem to be quite divergent in their approaches toward Buddhist practice – yet there also seem to be some tremendous affinities.

When I arrived at the International Forest Monastery in Thailand, I had never read any Buddhist books and I wasn’t actually in search of becoming a Buddhist monk. I was a wanderer, a free-lance spiritual seeker, and I just happened to turn up at this forest monastery that Ajahn Sumedho had established a couple of years before, basically as a place for a free meal and a roof over my head for a few nights. Little did I expect, some twelve or thirteen years later, that I would be doing what I am doing now. But when I went there and asked the monks about Buddhism, to explain things a little bit for me so that I could get a feel for what their life was about, the first thing one of them did was to give me a copy of a book of talks by a Zen Master, and he said, ‘Don’t bother trying to read the Theravada literature; it’s terribly boring, very dry. Read this, it is pretty much the same thing that we’re doing, and it will give you a sense of what our practice is about.’ And I thought, ‘Well, obviously these guys are not too hung up on their tradition.’ The book was Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind.

So, one could see right from the beginning that, even though there is a strength to the particular form within any Buddhist country, one is not necessarily constricted or limited by that. I was there for months before I even heard of ‘Theravada’ and ‘Mahayana,’ let alone the differences of opinion between them. It seemed that when you actually lived the life there really wasn’t any great disparity, but if you thought about it a lot, and if you were the kind of person who wrote histories and books and had got into the political side of religious life, then that was where the divergences occurred.

I have heard Ajahn Sumedho recount a few times over the years that, for the first year of his monastic life, he had been practising using the instructions from a Ch’an meditation retreat given by the Ven. Master Hsü Yün, and that he had used the Dharma talks from that retreat given in China as his basic meditation instruction. When he went to Wat Pah Pong, Ajahn Chah asked him what kind of meditation he had been doing, at first he thought, ‘Oh no, he’s going to get me to give this up and do his method.’ But, when Ajahn Sumedho described what he had been doing and mentioned that it had had excellent results, Ajahn Chah said, ‘Oh, very good, just carry on doing that.’

So, one sees that there is a very strong unity of purpose; even though there might be historical differences between the two traditions, they are very much in accordance with each other. And one begins to see what the different Buddhist traditions are talking about. They get sectioned out into Hinayana or Mahayana or Vajrayana, as different types of Buddhist practice, but they are basically just different labels which are talking about attitudes of mind and, when the traditions are used wisely, then they will address all aspects of our mind, from the most selfish and mundane to the most exalted. They address all the different levels of our life, and it’s only when they are not understood, when people take them as fixed positions, that there is any conflict amongst them.

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.