Mendicant, knowing and seeing the eye, sights, eye consciousness, and eye contact as impermanent, wrong view is given up. …The ear …nose …tongue …body …The mind, ideas, mind consciousness, and mind contact as impermanent, wrong view is given up. And also knowing and seeing the pleasant, painful, or neutral feeling that arises conditioned by mind contact as impermanent, wrong view is given up. This is how to know and see so that wrong view is given up.
Micchādiṭṭhipahānasutta: Giving Up Wrong View (SN 35.165),
translation by Ven. Bhikkhu Sujato
Today we will discuss the first of the three characteristics of existence (tilakkhaṇa): the concept of anicca. What is anicca? Usually, we say that anicca means impermanence. Everything changes, decays; if something has arisen, it will inevitably end; if a being is born, it will inevitably die. This characteristic of impermanence is what we call anicca. But in reality, such an explanation is very superficial.
Anicca is an extremely profound concept that requires careful analysis and study. We must see what anicca truly is; then we will indeed gain wisdom. This wisdom serves as our aid in reducing and liberating ourselves from suffering. Through wisdom, we understand that the concept of anicca runs very deep.
But even if a person has this superficial understanding, it already brings them some happiness. If we understand that we can die at any moment, that we cannot stop death, then we know that we will have to leave this world and depart. We will have to part with the world, with our parents, relatives, children, with all our loved ones. All these people we have met — we have only met them for a short time. Our meeting is temporary; we have come into this world for just a brief period.
Why should we constantly remember this? Because it is a process of reflection, cultivation of the mind, and development of the mind. As long as a person does not have deep wisdom, they simply engage in some form of reflection. And if they reflect, they come to an understanding.
He understands: “Why should I become so attached to this world if I have to part with it at any moment, if I have to leave at any moment? Why should I love this world so much?” And if a person thinks this way, even a little, then although they live in this world, they will have little attachment and few grievances. Why hold onto grudges for so long? As if we live here forever. We are not here forever, and those we hate will also leave. They might have already left, but we haven’t received the news yet, and we continue to hate them. Why do we need this? This hatred will bring unhappiness to us. Even this superficial understanding of anicca gives a person some level of happiness and liberation; this is inevitable.
One of the meanings of anicca is change: everything changes. The way we thought in childhood, or the way we thought in youth — we don’t think that way now. Why is that? Because the mind is impermanent, the mind changes. Even this understanding gives us some wisdom, some liberation. But the way the Buddha taught to see anicca is a very profound understanding; it goes even further. Therefore, we cannot stop at this superficial level of understanding.
Those who do not know about the Buddha’s Teachings can also think about this and understand it superficially, but this is not deep Dhamma. Of course, if a person starts to reflect, they understand that all people die. “No one has stayed here forever, so I will leave too” — understanding this does not require a deep level of wisdom.
As the Buddha said: “sabbe saṅkhārā aniccā ti.” All saṅkhārā, constructions, are anicca, impermanent. This means: what arises, ceases. Leaving nothing behind.
What is saṅkhāra? Saṅkhāra means something that has arisen due to causes. Everything that has arisen due to causes can be called saṅkhāra. Everything that has arisen: houses, the world, people. Saṅkhāra is a separate large concept that needs to be analyzed separately. But there is another meaning of the word saṅkhāra: volitional formations of the mind, thoughts. When we say “sabbe saṅkhārā aniccā ti,” all saṅkhārā are impermanent, it means all things that exist in the world, or of which the world is made, are called saṅkhārā, and they are all impermanent.
How can we see that the world is impermanent? This is a very interesting question, and we need to analyze it correctly. If we misunderstand it, we misunderstand the Buddha’s Teachings, and we don’t even know how to understand them.
For example, I am sitting on this chair — this chair is impermanent. How do we understand that it is impermanent? Any person would answer: this chair used to be different, it had a different color, it aged, and over time it will break, and so on, therefore the chair is impermanent. But in fact, such a superficial explanation is incorrect. Or one might also say that the chair is made of atoms, atoms are constantly changing, electrons are constantly changing, so it is impermanent. But these are also our reflections or ideas about it. This is some information we received earlier. But this is not our experience, because we do not feel it, we do not actually know it. We can only know something through our sense organs. If we felt it through our sense organs, then we know it. But we can’t say that about atoms, we don’t see or feel them.
Therefore, we should actually understand impermanence through āyatanā. What are āyatanā, and how many āyatanā are there? Here we come to a new Pali word: āyatana. Usually, we say that āyatanā are the sense organs or spheres (bases) of perception: the eye, ear, tongue, nose, body, and mind (a total of six sense organs). And there are objects of the sense organs: colors that we see with the eye; smells that we perceive with the nose; sounds that we hear with the ear; tastes that we experience with the tongue; touches that we feel with the body. And then, there are the objects of the mind. These are the six sense organs, the six spheres of perception. But in fact, there are twelve spheres of perception: the first six are the internal āyatanā, and the subsequent ones are the external āyatanā.
If we need to understand what impermanence is, we should see it through āyatanā. Then we can see: arising and ceasing. As the Buddha said (Bāhiyasutta: With Bāhiya, Ud 1.10, translation by Ven. Bhikkhu Ānandajoti): “In what is seen there must be only what is seen, in what is heard there must be only what is heard, in what is sensed there must be only what is sensed, in what is cognized there must be only what is cognized.” In what is seen — only the seen, nothing remains. It arises and ceases. This is precisely what we should see.
For example, how are we living right now? In what concepts does our mind exist? At what level? At this level: I am sitting here, I have a body, I can see (because I have eyes). What can I see? What exists in the world. What is accessible to my eyes, I can see. These are: people, animals, various things, houses, nature, and so on. This is the understanding we live with: “Everything I see exists in the world. Everything I can see are existing things. I see and I know that they exist.” This is the world we live in. But the Buddha explains that this is not actually the case, and the world is much deeper.
The Buddha explains that at the root level, the eye arises and ceases. Immediately after the moment the eye arises — it ceases. When does the eye arise? The eye arises at the moment when colors enter it. That is when eye consciousness arises: when there is eye consciousness, color, and the “sensor” of the eye (or we can say “the base of the eye”). In Buddhism, we call this “sensor,” this “base” the eye, not the organ. This organ is the body because we can touch it. The Buddha says that the eye cannot be touched, and we cannot see it either. Through the eye, we can see, but we cannot see the eye itself. Therefore, it is not the eye that is the bodily organ. The eye we are talking about now arises when there are colors, when there is eye consciousness: it arises and immediately ceases. Why does it cease? Because the color perceived by the eye is impermanent. It arose for a fraction of a millisecond and then ceased. Therefore, through this kind of understanding, and in reality — through ourselves, we must see impermanence.
Or, for example, sounds. When the ear perceives a sound, then the ear and ear consciousness arise. When we say “the ear perceives a sound,” it seems as if the ear exists before the sound. But in fact, in Abhidhamma, it is explained that all three arise simultaneously: when there is ear consciousness, there is also sound and the ear. If there is no ear, then there is no ear consciousness and no sounds. Similarly, if there are no sounds, then there is no ear and no ear consciousness. This is how it is explained in Abhidhamma.
Then it also becomes clear to us that the ear is not this organ on the head. The organ is something related to the body because we can touch it. We feel warmth, hardness, and so on — that’s all body. But what perceives the sound, some sensor, the base — this we call the ear. The ear arose along with the sounds, and then it disappeared.
But for us now, it is not like that. The ear exists because I also exist. I exist, the ear exists, and the sounds we hear — they also exist in the external world. Because we usually don’t listen to sounds. Right now, observe yourself — you are not listening to sounds, you are listening to me. Therefore, in your mind, there is an idea that somewhere far away in Sri Lanka, in a monastery, a monk is giving a lecture, and I am here listening (or reading) to himthis is the world we have now. But in reality, what is happening to us right now? I can’t explain the exact technology, but we can say that the phone receives some signals, waves, converts them, and then reproduces the sounds through the speakers. But this is also a relative level. And then when the sound enters the earthat is when the sound arises in the Buddhist understanding.
We can say that there is no sound without an ear. If there is no ear consciousness, then there are no sounds. For example, if a completely deaf person were sitting next to methere would be no sounds for them. If they used to be able to hear, then perhaps in their mind, some perceptions of sounds are created, but if they have never been able to hear in this life, then for them, sounds do not exist.
If someone’s “sensor,” or we can say “the base” of the nose, does not work, then there are no smells for them. We dislike going to a place that smells very bad, like some toilet, but for a person whose nose base does not work, this does not happen; for them, there is no such unpleasantness. If they see that everything looks beautiful there, then it is a beautiful place for them. They do not experience all this aversion because there are no smells.
Look: the sounds that arise immediately disappear. But if we don’t have the observation of the sense organs, don’t have that level of mindfulness, don’t have the wisdom to see this, then precisely for this reason we perceive: there is a person over there, they are reading something, someone is singing, and so on. Therefore, we see and hear: there are different people over there, dogs are barking, an airplane is flying. And what we hearfor us, it exists in the external world. A car drove by, and now it’s driving somewhere far away. For us, the car exists, and this existence we call nicca (permanence).
Cakkhu ahutvā sambhūtaṁ, hutvā na bhavissatīti vavattheti: the eye, not previously existing, arises and disappears without a trace. And this is said about all āyatanā: the eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, mind. They arise without previously existing and disappear without a trace.
This understanding is opposite to our worldly understanding of the sense organs. We think that we are born with eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind, and they always exist, they are always with us. But the Buddha teaches that at one moment in time, only one previously non-existent sense organ appears and disappears without a trace. We cannot see and hear, think and touch, etc., simultaneously. The eye arises and disappears without a trace, followed by the mind arising and disappearing without a trace, and so on. This is anicca.
What is nicca? It is permanence. Therefore, in our mind, there is niccasaññā — the perception of permanence. Niccasaññā means a vast number of perceptions in which we fabricate permanence. This, as I explained at the beginning, is not about the idea that the car will break down or might get into an accident; it’s not about that understanding. It’s about the idea that the car exists or the car existed. When we say that the car existed, that is also permanence.
It’s like when we say, “I had a father, and he died.” That means, for me, a deceased father exists. I can remember him, I can do something in his honor. And why? Because for me, the father exists. What father? The deceased father, the father who passed away, exists. But if we look at this through āyatanā, we will see that certain thoughts and memories arise in the mind. And when these thoughts arise, if we lack mindfulness and wisdom, we will see a certain father through these thoughts. And in our mind, a certain concept arises: he was like this, he lived with us, he talked to me like this, and so on.
Therefore, if we need to see what anicca is, what impermanence is, we must observe āyatanā. This is how we can see what impermanence is. We can see: the eye is impermanent, colors are impermanent; the ear is impermanent, sounds are impermanent; the nose is impermanent, smells are impermanent; the tongue is impermanent, tastes are impermanent; the body is impermanent, bodily sensations are impermanent; the mind is impermanent, thoughts are impermanent.
For example, right now I can touch a chair, and it seems to me that I am touching the entire chair. But in reality, I cannot touch the entire chairI am only touching a small spot the size of my finger. This finger feels some hardness, some warmth, some pressurethat’s all. But in the mind, a chair arises, and that is something entirely different.
Why does a chair arise in the mind? This is actually a very deep explanation. There is another Pali word: āsava, which we can say are our accumulations, what we have been taught since childhood. We were taught that this is a table, this is a chair, this is a cīvara (robe), this is a Buddhist monk, and these are headphones, and so on. This is all information we have gathered and believe in. These are all internal concepts we have about the existence of things.
This could be some experience, some related emotions that we have felt. All of this also exists within us. Therefore, it may happen that when a person sees some creature, like a spider, their body even changes, and a strong fear arises. This is because there was some previous experience, because the person has already perceived this creature in a certain way, and that experience remains within.
Similarly, I have the concept: this is a chair. And how do I know the concept of “chair”? I was taught it. But not in childhoodback then, I was taught differently, the Sinhala word “puṭuva.” It was when I was studying later that I learned the English language, and they taught me that this is a “chair,” and another thing is a “table.” So I learned it, and now I have this memory, and now when I see it, I know: this is a “chair.” But in reality, I can only feel this sensation: hardness, warmth, pressure. When we touch this warmth, pressure, and hardness, the mind perceives this touch as a chair. And the eye works in the same way. We see some colors: black, red; some shapes, and when the eye perceives these colors and shapes, the mind itself perceives: this is a monk, or some other being, and so on.
And a different concept arises in the mind. What concept arises? “This chair exists.” “I can touch it, I can see it, I can buy it in a store,” and so on. Then, for us, a permanent object arises, or the perception of permanence, that the chair exists. Therefore, our world, the world around us, exists. It doesn’t arise and disappear, but it exists. But in reality, every moment, through the eye, through the ear, through the nose, through the tongue, through the body, through the mind, the world arises and disappears, arises and disappears. But if we see impermanence, we will not see this existing world, and this is what we call anicca. Then there is nothing left for us to remember, or to hate, or to love with all our might. Because we ourselves know that it is not real.
This is not realitythese are some thoughts arising in the mind, and due to ignorance, we perceive them as permanent existing things in the external world, like people, beings, animals, anything. We see them, love them, hate them, attach to them, but in fact, all this arises in the mind. It cannot be said that they all exist in the external world. Then another question arises: “So they do not exist?” One could say that these are two extremes. But the Teaching rejects both of these extremes. “Exists” is wrong, “does not exist” is also wrong. Therefore, we cannot say “does not exist,” because if there is ignorance, if there is an eye, if there are colors, if there is eye consciousness, then all this arises for us. Everything arises for a person who has a mind and senses: for him, the whole world exists. And because of the world, he worries, gets sick, lives, and dies, is reborn, then lives and dies again. Because for him, when he dies, this world he lived in remains, but he himself dies.
For example, my vision starts to darken, and darken, and darken, and then I go completely blind and can no longer see anything. It’s as if the world is there, but I can no longer see it. And during death, it is as if a person’s eyes go blind, ears go deaf, the nose stops smelling, the tongue stops tasting, and the body stops feeling — everything stops working. But the person understands: this world exists, while I am dying. “How can I leave, how can I abandon my loved ones?” Internal attachments arise within them, and therefore their mind, due to upādāna (attachment), is reborn somewhere again. Upādāna is another important concept. But today we want to take a closer look at what impermanence is, because it is one of the main concepts in the Buddha’s Teachings.
Impermanence, anicca. The word “anicca” is formed from the word “nicca” and the prefix “a-”, which adds negation. Nicca means permanence, anicca means impermanence. Even in Buddhist countries, it is sometimes misinterpreted and wrongly explained, when people say that the word anicca is formed from icchā: “what we desire.” Then anicca is explained as something that should not be desired, but in reality, this is taken from another place in the Teachings: this is subha and asubha, attractiveness and unattractiveness. In another place in the Teachings, it is explained why we should not desire the world.
But here the Buddha explicitly says that anicca is impermanence, do not confuse it. And when you hear the word anicca, you should understand: “I actually do not understand it.” How should we think about it wisely? “If I need to understand it, I should try to observe the sense organs, deeply study the Buddha’s Teachings. Only through this can I grasp the concept of impermanence.”
Then we have a goal, where to go, what to do. Just as if we want to retrieve something from a depth, we must understand that our hand won’t be enough: we need to take something to reach it or come up with a way to get what we want. Similarly, we must understand that our wisdom is not yet sufficient, our knowledge is not yet enough to understand anicca.
The Buddha says there are three doors to Nibbāna: animitta — signlessness, appaṇihita — aimlessness, and suññata — emptiness. One of the doors opens through impermanence; this door to Nibbāna is called animitta. Animitta means that if a person sees impermanence, they no longer have nimitta. Nimitta means objects, signs: what we have seen, heard, felt, thought — various objects. Animitta means that a person no longer has the illusion that these objects exist in the external world. Such a concept no longer exists because the person sees impermanence: they see that thoughts, memories arise in the mind and disappear there. They see and it disappears, hear and it disappears, smell and it disappears, and so on. “In what is seen there must be only what is seen, in what is heard there must be only what is heard, in what is sensed there must be only what is sensed, in what is cognized there must be only what is cognized.” Therefore, seeing impermanence means approaching the Buddha’s Teaching; the door to Nibbāna opens for such a person.
This is very profound knowledge, a profound Teaching. Therefore, we must gradually analyze it. Certainly, if we study it, this Teaching gives us results. What result does the Teaching give us? The result is liberation. We can live independently. Now we depend on the world, on people, on what they say, on what they might think. Our happiness, our joy depend on the world. But if a person understands the Dhamma, they are liberated from the world because they see: the world arises and disappears, a permanent world does not exist. This is precisely what anicca is.
This world, Kaccana, for the most part depends upon a duality — upon the notion of existence and the notion of nonexistence. But for one who sees the origin of the world as it really is with correct wisdom, there is no notion of nonexistence in regard to the world. And for one who sees the cessation of the world as it really is with correct wisdom, there is no notion of existence in regard to the world.
Kaccānagottasutta: Kaccānagotta (SN 12.15), translation by Ven. Bhikkhu Bodhi
How do we practice this? First of all, this practice begins with receiving the Teaching: it is meeting with good friends, then listening to the Dhamma, and then yoniso manasikāra — contemplation on the Dhamma, or wise contemplation. We can contemplate on the Dhamma if we know the Teaching, if we have no doubts about it. If we have doubts, then we must analyze the Teaching again, study it deeply. For example, the eye, what is the eye? We must understand it completely. Because if we do not know what the Buddha explained about the eye, we will not be able to understand it ourselves. We will have our own incorrect understanding, then we will reflect incorrectly, and therefore we will not get any result.
Therefore, the very first step is meeting with good friends, the second is listening to the Dhamma, and the third is yoniso manasikāra, wise contemplation. We need to contemplate on the information we have received. We need to reflect constantly. If we do not use our knowledge to practice yoniso manasikāra, we will not progress further. When we encounter any problem, any suffering, any sorrow — we must see it through these āyatanā, as the Buddha taught us āyatanā. Is this really what the Buddha explained to us? Does this Teaching work? We must analyze everything through what the Buddha taught us, then little by little, the Dhamma will be revealed to us. Then we can apply it to our lives at some level and live as the Buddha explained to us.
We must understand the purpose of all this knowledge and contemplation: to gain the right views. Gaining the right views does not mean that all our problems will be solved, that we have escaped all suffering. No, we have simply obtained the right views, and before that, we did not know what was true and what was false. But we still have the task of realizing this, of living in accordance with it.
As stated in the Sabbāsavasutta (All the Taints, MN 2): we must practice morality (sīla), generosity (dāna), patience, we must avoid the unwholesome, and we must develop and cultivate our mind (bhāvanā). Various methods are described, and in the end, there is meditation, but the very first thing we must do is obtain the right information, which is the Teaching. And then we must remember it, we must think about it. Not just repeat it, but also analyze it. Analyze it through ourselves, through our own experience. Of course, mindfulness and repetition help with this, even repeating Pali terminology helps. But we must constantly analyze this through ourselves. Especially when problems arise: we must take the Buddha’s Teachings and analyze our problems through them. Then, little by little, we can see reality.
And how is final knowledge achieved by gradual training, gradual practice, gradual progress? Here one who has faith in a teacher visits him; when he visits him, he pays respect to him; when he pays respect to him, he gives ear; one who gives ear hears the Dhamma; having heard the Dhamma, he memorises it; he examines the meaning of the Teachings he has memorised; when he examines their meaning, he gains a reflective acceptance of those teachings; when he has gained a reflective acceptance of those teachings, zeal springs up in him; when zeal has sprung up, he applies his will; having applied his will, he scrutinises; having scrutinised, he strives; resolutely striving, he realises with the body the supreme truth and sees it by penetrating it with wisdom.
Kīṭāgirisutta: At Kīṭāgiri (MN 70), translation by Ven. Bhikkhu Bodhi
For example, how can we use our right views to get rid of anger? First of all, we must see the anger, acknowledge that anger exists, that I am angry. We must see this, and then through mindfulness, we must observe our anger: how it arises, how it exists. Because anger does not exist on its own: we must constantly nourish it, maintain it, take care of it — it does not exist by itself. We simply do not know that we are maintaining it, taking care of it.
How do we nourish it? For instance, we have some resentment. We recall this resentment and think about it in various ways, reflect on it, and streams of different thoughts arise in our mind, and because of these thoughts, anger (the emotion of anger) arises. This is unwise reflection, ayoniso manasikāra. Of course, when the emotion of anger arises, it is evident throughout the body: various sensations appear everywhere, there is some discomfort, or even very strong discomfort if it is hatred — strong unhappiness.
Right now, I am not talking about the initial moment of anger because it is no longer important to us. We now have anger, and this moment is important to us. Do we have anger? Yes, we do. Do we maintain it? Yes, we do. How do we maintain it? By remembering someone or something and thinking about it. Why do we think about it? Because the mind believes it exists in the external world. And in practice, it doesn’t matter who it is, it doesn’t matter what the case is, it doesn’t matter who did what, because the main thing here is ignorance. What ignorance? The mind believes that this object exists in the external world — this is our problem. The mind is convinced that such a person exists in the external world. But if we observe through the sense organs, the mind will not see such a person in the external world, the person who offended us. The mind sees thoughts. But to accomplish what I am explaining to you is not easy. For this, we must practice for a long time to see anger as anger within ourselves. Because we usually see anger as truth, as a person, as a case, as an offense. We see something else, we do not see anger.
If we see anger as anger, it ceases to exist — we cannot maintain it. If a person sees anger at a deep level, they see this emotion of anger and do not maintain it. If they see it through the sense organs, they understand that such a person does not exist in the external world (or in the internal world). It just arose and disappeared, and now we are suffering. Why should we suffer if this does not exist? This will be wise contemplation, yoniso manasikāra. If we are without mindfulness, without wisdom, then when anger arises in us, we feed it, maintain it, take care of it. But if we have mindfulness and we know the Buddha’s Teaching, then the first thing we want to do is to get away from this suffering, we do not want to suffer. If we see anger as anger, then the anger immediately disappears, extinguishes. If the anger does not disappear, it means we do not truly see anger as anger — we see other people, some situations, and so on.
We can give an example: suppose I am surrounded by some bandits on the street, and they start beating me. If I knew some spell or something like that, which I could recite and disappear from there — I would immediately use it. Any person in such a situation, if they knew such a spell, would immediately use it and disappear from there because no one wants to be beaten, no one wants to suffer, and they have a way out, a place to escape. Similarly, suffering constantly arises in us. Like bandits, we have the eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, and most importantly, the mind. They are like bandits — beating us all the time, and we do not know where to escape, and we suffer here all the time. Just as in a dream, we might hate someone, fear, suffer in the dream, when we wake up — we do not want to see such a dream again. But even if we wanted to — we could not plunge back into it because the mind does not perceive it as real events. For the mind, it is already unreal.
And what is the result of suffering? It’s when someone who is overcome and overwhelmed by suffering sorrows and wails and laments, beating their breast and falling into confusion. Or else, overcome by that suffering, they begin an external search, wondering: “Who knows one or two phrases to stop this suffering?” The result of suffering is either confusion or a search, I say. This is called the result of suffering.
And what is the cessation of suffering? When craving ceases, suffering ceases. The practice that leads to the cessation of suffering is simply this Noble Eightfold Path, that is: right view, right thought, right speech, right action, right livelihood, right effort, right mindfulness, and right immersion.
Nibbedhikasutta: Penetrative (AN 6.63), translation by Ven. Bhikkhu Sujato
What does nicca saññā, this perception of permanence, do? Because of it, being, existence (bhava) arises. For us, there are constantly existing things because there is a perception of permanence in the mind. This is very deep: if we see that for us a house is permanent, Russia is permanent, America is permanent, Sri Lanka is permanent, I am permanent, then Russia exists, then America exists, Sri Lanka exists, I exist. And thus the whole world exists. The school we attended; the kindergarten we went to; the university — everything exists. You can close your eyes and in an instant the mind remembers: yes, there, far away, in such and such a city, it exists, or existed, or will exist. Time does not matter, it is still existence, and therefore it is nicca, permanence.
Reflect on this, study the Dhamma, and be sure to practice. The Teaching gives us freedom, liberation from suffering, happiness. I wish you good luck in your practice!
Then the Buddha said to the mendicants: “Come now, mendicants, I say to you all: ‘Conditions fall apart. Persist with diligence.’”
These were the Realized One’s last words.
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