When, friends, a noble disciple understands the sixfold base, the origin of the sixfold base, the cessation of the sixfold base, and the way leading to the cessation of the sixfold base, in that way he is one of right view…and has arrived at this true Dhamma.
Sammādiṭṭhisutta: Right View (MN 9),
translation by Ven. Bhikkhu Bodhi
Our topic today is saḷāyatana, or the six āyatanā. Saḷāyatana can be translated as the six sense organs or six sense spheres, six sense fields, six sense bases. When we meditate, we develop samatha-vipassanā. We begin our practice with samatha, concentrating on the object of mindfulness: observing the body, breathing, and so on. Then we move on to vipassanā. Samatha helps us keep the mind calm, relaxed, develop one-pointedness, concentration, and so on. Vipassanā helps us understand the world as it really is, to understand reality. To understand the world, we need theory, which must be applied in practice. For this, the Buddha explains to us saḷāyatana, the six āyatana: the six sense organs or six sense bases. What are these āyatanā?
- Eye and colors.
- Ear and sounds.
- Nose and smells.
- Tongue and tastes.
- Body and touches.
- Mind and mind objects.
These can be called āyatanā, or we can say that this is our world. When we say that we live, what do we mean? That we use these six sense organs. You can reflect on this: do we know anything besides these saḷāyatana? Try to really think about this yourself.
But for now, we do not even know what our eye is. We are only familiar with the concept of the eye that our parents and school have taught us. But in the Buddha’s Teaching, a different eye is described: in the Teaching, the eye (āyatana of the eye) arises when there are causes and disappears when there are no causes. And the eye cannot be touched, cannot be seen; this is the eye explained in the Teaching. And then it becomes clear that our worldly concept of the eye does not quite match what the Buddha explains to us. The same applies to the ear, nose, tongue: they cannot be seen or touched either. You can touch the body, but at the same time, the body is also not accessible to vision — we cannot see it.
Right now, this sounds like some kind of mystery to us. Let’s break down what this means. We know that somewhere inside our eye there is some sort of sensor. But in reality, it exists for us only when there is color. When some colors enter our eye, then seeing begins.
The Buddha says: cakkhuñca paṭicca rūpe ca uppajjati cakkhuviññāṇam. When color enters the eye, eye consciousness arises. This is how seeing occurs. And only when these three elements — the eye, colors, and eye consciousness — are present, does contact (phassa) arise. Two elements are not enough for contact to occur. If there is just the eye and colors, contact does not occur, as eye consciousness is also needed. If any of these three (the base, the object, or consciousness) are absent, nothing arises in our mind, and we are unaware of it; it does not exist for us. For example, this happens during an operation under anesthesia or after anesthesia: we can touch a part of the body, there is the body (the base), and there is the touch (objects), but body consciousness does not arise. Or when we are in complete darkness: there are no colors, so seeing does not arise.
What are the objects of the eye? It’s the colors. Besides colors, the eye cannot perceive anything else. This is something we even learned in school. And these colors are also impermanent. Colors enter the eye, eye consciousness arises, these three elements — the eye, colors, and eye consciousness — arise and immediately disappear.
Let’s now consider the ear. What does the ear perceive? Sounds. Right now, it seems to us that we know and understand all this, but it is just that our delusions are so great that we don’t even see them. Our ignorance is invisible to us. In reality, we never perceive sounds directly. What do we hear? We hear the wind, buses, people, but not sounds because our mind is already deluded: we have a huge amount of information, our entire past life experience. One could say that the mind is, in some sense, already programmed, and this program cannot be changed. Right now, when you listen to this, you do not hear sounds, you hear speech. If you listen to speech in a language you know, you cannot avoid hearing words. For example, in the word “mama,” there are four sounds, but we do not hear them; we hear the whole word immediately. In fact, when we hear words, certain concepts and ideas immediately appear in our mind.
The nose perceives smells. The tongue perceives tastes. The body perceives touches. Touches are hardness, warmth and pressure, that’s all we can touch. What does the mind perceive? Objects of the mind. These are sensations, perceptions, some thoughts — this is what the mind perceives.
In the Buddha’s Teaching, it is explained that no more than one āyatana can function at the same time. If the eye’s āyatana is functioning, the ear’s āyatana is not. It seems to us now that everything works simultaneously because our mind works very quickly. But in reality, this is not the case: at any given moment, only one āyatana can function, because our mind is one, and consciousness is one, and it is constantly arising and disappearing. When it arises in the eye’s āyatana (or we can say based on the eye), it does not arise in the ear’s āyatana or the other āyatanā. Thus, it is constantly arising and disappearing.
Bhikkhus, consciousness is reckoned by the particular condition dependent upon which it arises. When consciousness arises dependent on the eye and forms, it is reckoned as eye-consciousness; when consciousness arises dependent on the ear and sounds, it is reckoned as ear-consciousness; when consciousness arises dependent on the nose and odors, it is reckoned as nose-consciousness; when consciousness arises dependent on the tongue and flavors, it is reckoned as tongue-consciousness; when consciousness arises dependent on the body and tangibles, it is reckoned as body-consciousness; when consciousness arises dependent on the mind and mind-objects, it is reckoned as mind-consciousness. Just as fire is reckoned by the particular condition dependent on which it burns — when fire burns dependent on logs, it is reckoned as a log fire; when fire burns dependent on faggots, it is reckoned as a faggot fire; when fire burns dependent on grass, it is reckoned as a grass fire; when fire burns dependent on cowdung, it is reckoned as a cowdung fire; when fire burns dependent on chaff, it is reckoned as a chaff fire; when fire burns dependent on rubbish, it is reckoned as a rubbish fire — so too, consciousness is reckoned by the particular condition dependent on which it arises. When consciousness arises dependent on the eye and forms, it is reckoned as eye-consciousness…when consciousness arises dependent on the mind and mind-objects, it is reckoned as mind-consciousness.
Let’s consider an example of how everything works when we see something. Some colors hit the eye, and eye-consciousness arises. What happens after eye-consciousness arises? After that, depending on eye-consciousness, mind-consciousness arises, and the mind perceives the arisen eye-consciousness. By this moment, we have had two different contacts.
There are two types of contact: the first is paṭighasamphassa (impact-contact), which occurs with the objects of the eye, ear, nose, tongue, or body. This can be called primary physical contact. After this, these consciousnesses (eye, ear, nose, tongue, or body) disappear, and immediately the mind perceives this information, and another contact arises — contact with the mind. This second contact is called adhivacanasamphassa (designation-contact): internal mental contact.
If something arises in the mind based on visual perception, it means colors hit the eye and eye-consciousness arose — there was the first type of contact, and based on it, the second type of contact arose, and something appeared in our mind.
Also, based on the mind, the following mind consciousness can arise. For this we also need three elements: the mind, the objects of the mind and the consciousness of the mind. And when the consciousness of the mind arises on the basis of the consciousness of the mind, we say that thinking occurs. That is, the past mental consciousness becomes the object of the mind for the next mental consciousness.
In fact, beyond these sense organs, we really know nothing else, and we never have. We know what we see, what we hear, what we smell, what we taste, what we touch, and what we think about. That is all we know. Since we were born into the human world and have human eyes, we perceive only what is accessible to our sense organs. For example, there are beings that can see temperature, something unavailable to us, or there are beings with black-and-white vision, who cannot perceive all the other colors that we see. In reality, we are fortunate beings; it takes a lot of merit to be born as a human, which is why we can see all this beauty. However, not all beings are like that.
For example, we see a cat, and to us, it is beautiful, fluffy, pleasant, and affectionate. But imagine if we were born as mice. A cat would be a terrifying sight for us, possibly the last one we see in our lives.
At home, you have dogs and cats living with you, and they exist in our world. But in their world, there are no humans; we do not know how they see us, how they perceive us. In our world, there are many different animals, but what exists in their worlds, we do not know.
We can perceive only certain colors that we are capable of seeing when they enter our eyes. The next thing we need to understand is that vision occurs based on the eye (we can say in the eye āyatana), and not somewhere else in the external world. After this, the information is perceived by the mind, and the mind then recognizes what it sees. The definitions are not given by the eye; the definitions are given by the mind. How does the mind recognize this? The mind uses its knowledge and experience, and through them, it determines what it sees.
If a person were born in the forest and had no parents, there would be no one to pass on human knowledge to them. Without this knowledge, we would simply be animals: we wouldn’t know how to stand, walk, or talk. If we had never heard language, we wouldn’t be able to speak. If there were no language in the mind, we wouldn’t be able to think. Without language, our thinking would be limited to emotions and images.
Language is essential for structured and logical thinking within an orderly system. For this reason, Buddha reused the words that existed at that time and endowed them with his own meanings — he created new concepts, new terms, new definitions, a new conceptual apparatus. In order to understand the world, we need good language so that we can reflect and understand. It is precisely for this reason that we study it: we study the Pali, the suttas, we study the Teachings of the Buddha, using the language of that time.
The eye sees a color, eye-consciousness arises, and after eye-consciousness, mind-consciousness arises. This eye-consciousness serves as an object for mind-consciousness. And when mind-consciousness arises, we recognize something: there goes a person, there goes a bus, and so on. After this, our thinking process begins, and we start thinking about it. This is called kamma (or karma in Sanskrit). Mental saṅkhāra, or mental kamma. Right now, we are sitting and meditating, and whether we are aware of it or not, we are creating new kamma.
And what, bhikkhus, is old kamma? The eye is old kamma, to be seen as generated and fashioned by volition, as something to be felt. The ear is old kamma …The mind is old kamma, to be seen as generated and fashioned by volition, as something to be felt. This is called old kamma.
And what, bhikkhus is new kamma? Whatever action one does now by body, speech, or mind. This is called new kamma.
Kammanirodhasutta: Kamma (SN 35.146), translation by Ven. Bhikkhu Bodhi
The ear works in the same way: when a sound enters the ear, ear-consciousness arises, followed by mind-consciousness, and certain concepts arise in the mind. This all happens in a continuous stream. We live within these concepts. Of course, there are various objects and physical matter around us, but how we perceive them is entirely the task of the mind.
Our task now is to develop our concentration, mindfulness, and wisdom to understand what reality is and to see the world as it truly is. For this, we first need to understand what deception is, what defilements are, and what ignorance is. Ignorance actually arises in the mind, and we need to at least somewhat see and recognize this ignorance within ourselves. Only then will right views arise.
Let’s say I see a table. How does the perception of the table occur? The color enters the eye, the consciousness of the eye arises. They arise and disappear together. Based on the consciousness of the eye, the consciousness of the mind arises, the mind says: “Here, there is a table.” Then I can touch the table. Thus, contact occurs: the eye has seen the table, I can touch this table; this is how our world comes into being. But in reality, I was not touching the table; I was touching hardness, warmth, pressure. And I was not seeing the table; I was seeing colors. But I live in a world in which a table exists.
Or, for example, an apple. I can smell it, touch it, taste it, and think about it. And in my world, the apple arises. This is how everything constantly arises and disappears, and this is how our world arises. And what isn’t there in our world. And we say: our world has arisen and it is, it exists. And then we see some constant world. We do not see impermanence; we see something constant. Sri Lanka — does it exist? Yes, it does. The ocean — does it exist? Yes, it does. Did the Buddha exist in our world? Yes, he did. Since he existed, it means he was permanent. All these objects seem permanent to us. Therefore, the very first thing we learn in the Teaching is impermanence (anicca). If we truly understand what impermanence is, it will be a transcendental understanding.
There is a mundane understanding of impermanence. For example, a pen seems impermanent: I can write with it for some time, and then it will run out of ink and won’t write anymore. But this is not true impermanence because the permanent pen still exists, the concept of “pen” exists, I can touch the pen, and I can see the pen. Therefore, we are in a world where pens exist, and this is a mundane understanding of impermanence. But if we see that the pen arises and disappears when I touch it, when I see it, when I think about it, then this will be a transcendental understanding. Vipassanā goes precisely there, towards seeing anicca (impermanence), and towards seeing anattā (non-self).
It is best to use Pali terms because anattā can be translated as impersonality, egolessness, non-self, or absence of a permanent self or soul. However, I do not know how you understand these concepts — “self,” “personality,” “soul,” “ego” — because a word is a sound that enters the ear, and what you perceive after that, I do not know; it depends on your knowledge, experience, and understanding. Everything depends on your individual understanding of these concepts. Therefore, it is best to use the term anattā. A single word in other languages cannot fully convey the depth of these concepts, so it is best to form your own understanding of the key terms of the Teaching so that you do not need translations.
Therefore, we first need to learn the correct descriptions that the Buddha gave us, study them, and then we need to carefully contemplate and see this for ourselves. For example, we know what hardness is, what warmth is, what colors are — we do not need any special word or specific concept for any of this, we know what it is.
When we do not see impermanence, due to this ignorance, existence (bhava) arises. How does it arise? Now we heard a sound as if some metal object had fallen in the distance. For us immediately there is metal somewhere over there, and it has fallen somewhere. This concept, this existence already arises. And we have countless amounts of such concepts in our minds: our relatives, our loved ones, our friends, our enemies, our possessions, our favorite things, our country, other countries, pleasant and unpleasant animals — they all exist, all this exists. Where does all this exist? It all exists with us right now, so we have no liberation. But we want to be free, we want to be happy. How can there be happiness when there are enemies? When there are wars? How can there be happiness when our loved ones are sick, aging, dying? We cannot free ourselves from this. And wherever you go, you carry your baggage — your world. Wherever you go, you always take your world with you, and there will be no liberation there, there will again be a prison of habitual representations.
The Buddha says that the most important thing in the Teaching is the taste of liberation.
Just as, monks, the great ocean has one taste, the taste of salt, so, monks, this Dhamma and Discipline has one taste, the taste of freedom.
Uposathasutta: Sabbath (Ud 5.5), translation by Ven. Bhikkhu Ānandajoti
That’s why we value the Buddha’s Teachings so much, that’s why we honor him so much. When we begin a lecture or meditation, we start by saying:
Namo tassa bhagavato arahato sammāsaṃbuddhassa!
Homage to the Blessed One, the Worthy One,
the Fully Enlightened One!
We express our reverence and gratitude. We honor the Buddha because he taught us how to be free, how to be happy. Without him, without his Teaching, there would be no liberation for us.
Good, good Nandiya! It’s appropriate that gentlemen such as you come to me and ask: “We spend our life in various ways. Which of these should we practice?” The faithful succeed, not the faithless. The ethical succeed, not the unethical. The energetic succeed, not the lazy. The mindful succeed, not the unmindful. Those with immersion succeed, not those without immersion. The wise succeed, not the witless. When you’re grounded on these six things, go on to establish mindfulness on five further things internally.
Firstly, you should recollect the Realized One: “That Blessed One is perfected, a fully awakened Buddha, accomplished in knowledge and conduct, holy, knower of the world, supreme guide for those who wish to train, teacher of gods and humans, awakened, blessed.” In this way you should establish mindfulness internally based on the Realized One.
Furthermore, you should recollect the teaching: “The teaching is well explained by the Buddha — apparent in the present life, immediately effective, inviting inspection, relevant, so that sensible people can know it for themselves.” In this way you should establish mindfulness internally based on the teaching.
Furthermore, you should recollect your good friends: “I’m fortunate, so very fortunate, to have good friends who advise and instruct me out of kindness and sympathy.” In this way you should establish mindfulness internally based on good friends.
Furthermore, you should recollect your own generosity: “I’m so fortunate, so very fortunate. Among people with hearts full of the stain of stinginess I live at home rid of stinginess, freely generous, open-handed, loving to let go, committed to charity, loving to give and to share.” In this way you should establish mindfulness internally based on generosity.
Furthermore, you should recollect the deities: “There are deities who, surpassing the company of deities that consume solid food, are reborn in a certain host of mind-made deities. They don’t see in themselves anything more to do, or anything that needs improvement.” An irreversibly freed mendicant doesn’t see in themselves anything more to do, or anything that needs improvement. In the same way, Nandiya, there are deities who, surpassing the company of deities that consume solid food, are reborn in a certain host of mind-made deities. They don’t see in themselves anything more to do, or anything that needs improvement. In this way you should establish mindfulness internally based on the deities.
A noble disciple who has these eleven qualities gives up bad, unskillful qualities and doesn’t cling to them. It’s like when a pot full of water is tipped over, so the water drains out and doesn’t go back in. Suppose there was an uncontrolled fire. It advances burning up dry woodlands and doesn’t go back over what it has burned. In the same way, a noble disciple who has these eleven qualities gives up bad, unskillful qualities and doesn’t cling to them.
Nandiyasutta: With Nandiya (AN 11.13), translation by Ven. Bhikkhu Sujato
Right now, we are in the human world, and it is not the worst place to be. We are doing very well here, but it will not always be this good, and we do not know where we will go next. We could be reborn in the realm of hungry ghosts, in the realm of evil spirits, in hells, or in the animal realm. As long as there are defilements and ignorance in our consciousness, it is always going somewhere, always connecting with something, always seeking permanent existence. It never wants to stop its existence; it always wants to see, hear, and feel, and so it constantly exists. But where this existence leads — that is frightening.
We do not know what will happen after death, but we do know that we are alive, and for now, we experience suffering: we are all born, we age, we get sick, we die, we experience separation from what is pleasant, encounters with what is unpleasant, and not obtaining what we desire. In order to free ourselves from this suffering, we need to know what reality is, and this is precisely why we need practice.
This is not just abstract knowledge; we must use it in practice and see it through our own experience. How exactly do we practice? Right now, we are sitting, concentrating on an object of mindfulness, and meditating. During meditation, we hear various sounds, and when we hear sounds, the ear arises and certain objects we hear arise. For example, a monkey that is somewhere out there, in the distance. And for us, the monkey exists there right now. We must take this object — the monkey — and practice vipassanā: look back to see what actually happened. There was a sound, and in the mind, the monkey arose, but then the mind goes further, it starts thinking about it. You can observe how the mind continues to spin this thought, thinking about the monkey, and various thoughts arise in it.
Why do we say that we need a quiet place to meditate? Even when there is a constant sound entering the ear, it actually doesn’t last even a second — it disappears immediately. But after that, the mind starts thinking about it, and we find it unpleasant because we are not meditating, but thinking about these sounds. And how do we think? “If only there were no monkey, no sounds, no music — then I would meditate well.” But this is also craving, taṇhā. It’s simply vibhāva taṇhā — the craving for non-existence, the desire for something not to be. Or maybe we hear some pleasant sounds, like birds singing or music that we like. Then we experience kāma taṇhā — craving for this, longing for it, the desire to see, hear, feel it, and so on.
When we meditate and sounds, touches, and other things appear, we need not be deceived by them or get lost in them. We need to understand reality because we live in a vast deception, in an illusion. And if even once we see what reality is, we will know: there is reality and there is deception. If we do not know what reality is, then all we have is just this deception. It is like being born in an egg: until we hatch from it, until we break the shell, we do not know what the world is; we only know the shell. In Sri Lanka, we have an example of a frog born in a deep well. It was born in it, lives in it, and has seen nothing but the well, and this is its world. Similarly, our world consists of the colors we see, the sounds we hear, as well as smells, tastes, touches, and the concepts passed on to us by other people (parents, friends, relatives, teachers, society), and the concepts we have created ourselves. This is our world.
Bhikkhus, I will teach you the all. Listen to that….
And what, bhikkhus, is the all? The eye and forms, the ear and sounds, the nose and odours, the tongue and tastes, the body and tactile objects, the mind and mental phenomena. This is called the all.
If anyone, bhikkhus, should speak thus: “Having rejected this all, I shall make known another all” — that would be a mere empty boast on his part. If he were questioned he would not be able to reply and, further, he would meet with vexation. For what reason? Because, bhikkhus, that would not be within his domain.
Sabbasutta: The All (SN 35.23), translation by Ven. Bhikkhu Bodhi
Here are a few examples to help you understand what this deception is. Suppose for us, over there, there is a dining hall. It is there, it exists. Why do we say that it is there? Because we can go there, look at it, touch it, and it will be there. Thus, for us, there is a permanent dining hall there.
How can we understand that this is not so, that it is impermanence, anicca? There are different examples for this, one of them is a mirror. We get up in the morning, go to the mirror, see our reflection, wash up, and then leave. But we do not retain in our mind the concept that there is some separate face in the mirror, that we left, but it remained there. We know that the mirror only reflects color, and we understand that as soon as we leave, our reflection is no longer there. How do we understand this? With the help of logic, with the help of our mind. But if a monkey approaches the mirror and sees its reflection, it will think there is another monkey there and will begin to arrange a showdown with it. And then, when the monkey leaves, it will retain the understanding in its mind that there is another monkey left in the room, that it exists there. And when it comes back to the room, the second monkey will be there again.
At our monastery in Kandy, there is a parked three-wheeler every morning. And every morning, the same little bird flies to it, sits in front of the mirror, and starts pecking at it. It does this for some time because it thinks there is another bird there, and it wants to free it. Then it gets tired and flies away, but the next morning it returns again. In its mind, in its world, another bird exists there, and it remembers this.
The same goes for us. Now you have come to Sri Lanka, but your home country remains there, it exists there. And then when you fly back, your country will be there. It will be the same country you know. And in fact, you do not know how to see a new country, and there will be no new country for you. You will see the past country, the one already familiar to you, the one you know.
Some people say that our world is bad — and for them, the world will be bad. Some people say that the nature in Sri Lanka is terrible and dangerous, and for them, it will be terrible and dangerous because what we have in our minds is what we see in our world.
Or another example: we are now sitting in a hall. The hall is quite large; we can walk around and check it. But in reality, we do not feel the entire hall. I can only feel this small spot that I am touching, I can feel only this hardness that my feet are resting on, the temperature, the pressure. But when I look, the hall exists entirely and completely for me.
Just as a monkey sees its reflection in the mirror and thinks that there is a separate monkey in the mirror, so do we: we constantly see reflections of our mind and think that these reflections really exist, and we try to do something with them. As long as we believe in this, we cannot free ourselves from attachment to them, from suffering, from the world. We need to learn to see our thoughts as thoughts.
The Buddha says that a being consists of six āyatanā (saḷāyatana). These are the eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind. The mind by itself cannot see, hear, smell, taste, or feel. It needs the five sense organs for this. The eyes transmit form, the ears — sound, the nose — smell, the tongue — taste, the body — hardness or softness, smoothness or roughness, cold or heat. However, the eye itself doesn’t know what it sees, and the ears don’t know what they hear. Let’s take, for example, a person seeing a crow. Their eyes don’t know they’re seeing it, the ears don’t know they’re hearing its caw. Eye consciousness perceives color. Ear consciousness hears sounds. As soon as these consciousnesses arise — they immediately disappear and others arise. In the mind, the thought appears “I see a crow, this is the sound of its caw”. This is called mind consciousness. When we hear one sound — one consciousness appears, when another sound — another consciousness appears. Consciousness is not permanent — it disappears and reappears moment by moment. We can’t even imagine how quickly it changes. All information gathered from the sense organs is processed by the mind, and it forms new concepts. Just as the concept of a crow appeared in consciousness, so does the concept of “I.” Moment by moment, concepts appear, for example: “I think,” “I hear,” “I see,” “I feel.” Thoughts also appear: “this is mine,” “this is yours,” “this is ours.”
Right now, all this information is just some abstract knowledge for you, but you can verify it: analyze it yourself, put it through your own experience, try it — it will indeed be so. Look at this mural on the entire wall at the end of the hall: we see lotuses, water, mountains in the background, the Bodhi tree, and the sky. But we cannot see the wall at the same time.
If we see the wall, we do not see the mural. We cannot perceive both the mural and the wall simultaneously because at any one moment, only one perception arises. In reality, there are no lotuses on this wall, but we see them, and why can we see them? Because we have some images, some pictures in our mind, and when they match our vision, that is how we perceive them.
Or take a black-and-white picture, where you can see either two black silhouettes of faces looking at each other or a white vase. What the mind recognizes in these colors is what we see. Nowadays, they draw such realistic three-dimensional graphics that when we see them, we cannot distinguish them from a photograph. This is how our mind deceives us.
Our task is to separate these sense organs. We constantly link our sense organs: what I saw, I think about, and I listen to, and I touch. But now we need to separate this and understand that what I am actually touching are objects of the body, sensations. What I am hearing are objects of the ear — sounds, what I am seeing are objects of the eye — colors, and so on. And what we are thinking about are objects of the mind. This topic is very deep and very complex.
“Friend, there are these five faculties each with a separate field, a separate resort, no one of them exploiting for its being another’s field and resort, that is to say, the eye faculty, ear faculty, nose faculty, tongue faculty and body faculty. Now these five faculties each with a separate field, a separate resort, no one of them exploiting for its being another’s field and resort: What is their homing-place, what exploits for its being their fields and resorts?”
“Friend, there are these five faculties each with a separate field, a separate resort, no one of them exploiting for its being another’s field and resort, that is to say, the eye faculty, ear faculty, nose faculty, tongue faculty, and body faculty. Now these five faculties each with a separate field, a separate resort, no one of them exploiting for its being another’s field and resort, have mind as their homing-place, mind exploits for its being their fields and resorts.”
Mahāvedallasutta: The Great Elaboration (MN 43),
translation by Ven. Nyanamoli Thera
There are two concepts in Buddhism: yoniso manasikāra and ayoniso manasikāra — right thinking and wrong thinking (or thinking with ignorance). The Buddha says that only those who apply right thinking will be able to benefit from the Teaching.
Bhikkhus, I say that the destruction of the taints is for one who knows and sees, not for one who does not know and see. Who knows and sees what? Wise attention and unwise attention. When one attends unwisely, unarisen taints arise and arisen taints increase. When one attends wisely, unarisen taints do not arise and arisen taints are abandoned.
Sabbāsavasutta: All the Taints (MN 2), translation by Ven. Bhikkhu Bodhi
Right thinking is very important for meditation. We need to understand how to think and how not to think, what the results will be if I think in a certain way, because the results we get depend on how we think. For example, I think that I am a bad monk: “I know so little, I poorly observe the precepts, I practice poorly.” Or I think: “I am an excellent monk, educated, I know so much, I practice well.” Whatever way I think, certain qualities arise in the mind, and we need to understand this. Both of these reflections lead to pride; the first one is hīnāmāna (low pride), but the thoughts that I am worse than everyone else are also pride.
Or, suppose someone accused us of something. We start thinking about that person: “How could he just accuse me like that? Why didn’t he check for himself first?” And what happens in the mind during this time? Ill-will develops in us. Whether it continues to grow or not depends on whether we keep thinking in that way. The concept of pride and conceit is also very deep; conceit disappears only upon reaching arahantship. As long as we believe that we have a “self,” we will have pride.
But now we need to understand how to think correctly, how to direct our thinking, because we are constantly thinking. Suppose you are sitting and meditating and think that something is not working out for you. If you start thinking: “I tried so hard, but it’s not working, it probably won’t work in the future, I will probably never succeed, I don’t know how to meditate,” what will happen next? First of all, there will be tension, anxiety, and no joy. These thoughts will not help you develop your mind, your meditation, so it is important for us to direct our thinking correctly.
What is the proper way to think? “It is good that I came here, it is good that I am studying the Dhamma, it is good that I am practicing. So many people who have the desire and aspiration to practice do not even know about this. So many people suffer and do not know the path to liberation from suffering, they have not encountered the Dhamma, but I am so fortunate to have met with good friends, and I can study the Dhamma. And since I am meditating, I am developing patience, I am making an effort. I am developing all these qualities, so it cannot be said that I am not succeeding.” If you think in this way, the mind will gradually calm down and continue to develop.
A wrongly directed mind would do you more harm than a hater to the hated, or an enemy to their foe.
A rightly directed mind would do you more good than your mother or father or any other relative.
Cittavagga: The Mind (Dhp 42-43), translation by Ven. Bhikkhu Sujato
Thus, we constantly need to observe our thoughts and know where they are going and where we need to direct them. If we do not know this direction, where we need to direct our thinking, we will not be able to use the Teaching. This is also part of yoniso manasikāra. This is also a very deep concept. That is why the Buddha said that his Teaching will only be useful to those who know how to think wisely.
When we hear an unpleasant sound, we immediately feel some aversion, some ill-will. Where did this ill-will come from? The sound did not transmit it to me; the sound was just heard, there was no unpleasantness in the sound itself, but this ill-will arose in the mind. When we start thinking in this way, the ill-will disappears, and instead, wisdom and mindfulness begin to develop. This is precisely yoniso manasikāra, the correct way of thinking. We need to constantly observe our thinking and direct it correctly — this is yoniso manasikāra.
Some people think that meditation is about turning off the mind, stopping thought, that the goal of meditation is not thinking. This is a very erroneous concept. The goal of meditation is to cultivate the mind. The word bhāvanā is usually translated as “meditation,” but it can also be translated as “culture of the mind,” “development of the mind,” or “education of the mind.” In a non-literal sense, we can also say that bhāvanā is the art of the mind. We need to find out what the mind is and properly educate and develop it so that it does not get lost and deceived.
There are states of mind in which thinking is absent, but the Buddha never encouraged such states of mind. He said that we should not become attached to such states and that they will not be useful to us. We need to correct our views and get rid of thinking born of ignorance, rather than simply suppress our ability to think. A good mind is a calm and active mind that can maintain balance. That is why we practice mindfulness and concentration, and when we need to, we think correctly. The Buddha explained the theory to us, and we use it when we think, because on our own we would get lost there.
Ask anyone what they see. They will say they see a house, people, animals, because we have seen and touched these things since childhood; we have learned this from birth. To understand this illusion, we must first learn about it from someone else. And those who have heard it from the Buddha tell us about it, which is why we need the Buddha’s Teachings. Thus, the Buddha’s Teachings have reached us today thanks to good friends, thanks to the people who have preserved and passed them on.
Then the mendicant Ānanda came to me, bowed, sat down to one side, and said: “Sir, good friends, companions, and associates are half the spiritual life.”
When he had spoken, I said to him: “Not so, Ānanda! Not so, Ānanda! Good friends, companions, and associates are the whole of the spiritual life. A mendicant with good friends, companions, and associates can expect to develop and cultivate the Noble Eightfold Path.
And how does a mendicant with good friends develop and cultivate the Noble Eightfold Path? It’s when a mendicant develops right view, right thought, right speech, right action, right livelihood, right effort, right mindfulness, and right immersion, which rely on seclusion, fading away, and cessation, and ripen as letting go. That’s how a mendicant with good friends develops and cultivates the noble eightfold path. And here’s another way to understand how good friends are the whole of the spiritual life.
For, by relying on me as a good friend, sentient beings who are liable to rebirth, old age, and death, to sorrow, lamentation, pain, sadness, and distress are freed from all these things. This is another way to understand how good friends are the whole of the spiritual life.”
Kalyāṇamittasutta: Good Friends (SN 3.18),
translation by Ven. Bhikkhu Sujato
We must develop mindfulness and concentration, and we must observe our mind and guide it in the right direction. These reflections do not hinder us from developing samādhi (concentration, calmness, and focus); on the contrary, they greatly aid in deepening it.
Even if you feel anger, you can understand that there is nothing there anymore: the sounds have already disappeared, and it is I who is spinning thoughts in my mind. It is I who is doing this now, it is harming me, I am causing harm to myself. And then you can quickly let it go, but for this, you need wisdom, you need to develop your mind.
It may not succeed immediately, but it is necessary to train and develop your mind by learning, reflecting, and constantly applying these Teachings. It is important for this knowledge to become part of our experience, so it does not just become another piece of information added to what we already have, but becomes part of our perception of the world. We need to learn to see the world in this way.
The Teachings say that there are several levels of knowledge.
- The first level is sutamaya ñāna: you need to learn about it (hear about it or read about it).
- The second level is cintāmaya ñāna — knowledge through contemplation.
- The third level is bhāvanāmaya ñāna — knowledge through direct experience.
First, we must learn about it, then we must study it and contemplate it, and then we need to see it. All the knowledge we acquire here is sutamaya ñāna. When we meditate, when we develop our mind, we need to use this knowledge.
And what is consciousness? The function of consciousness is to cognize something. And what does consciousness cognize? Whatever arises in the mind, that is what it cognizes. For example, we see a branch and mistake it for a snake. The mental object “snake” immediately arises in the mind, and consciousness cognizes the snake. Then we see that it was a branch, the mental object “branch” arises in the mind, and consciousness knows the branch. The mind can think logically and understand that there was never a snake and that it was always a branch, that we were mistaken, but these are mental objects, this is how thinking works. Consciousness, however, does not work this way — consciousness only cognizes.
We cannot see the eye consciousness itself; our mindfulness and concentration are not enough for this. The Buddha could see the eye consciousness, and the Buddha gave us the Teachings so that we could, through the Teachings, understand what is happening and see through the illusion. Eye consciousness perceives only colors or some shapes and forms. The mind receives this information and perceives these colors as a dog, a person, and so on. And this all happens in a continuous stream, very, very quickly, which makes it very difficult for us not to be deceived.
Now, when we analyze this, we say — a color entered the eye, eye consciousness arose, then it disappeared, and mind consciousness arose. But in reality, this all happens at an enormous speed. Like a movie: although it actually consists of individual frames, they change at such a high speed that we do not perceive them as static images — we perceive them as moving objects on the screen. Therefore, our primary task is to understand reality in one specific place as the Buddha explained it.
Right now, our six sense organs work very quickly, and we live in some constant world. If we need to see reality, we must catch at least one illusion. It’s like harvesting rice from a rice field: we take a sickle, gather a handful of rice with our hand, and cut it with the sickle.
Let’s say we hear the sound of construction and start thinking about a certain person. We can then reflect backward to trace where this person appeared from. We can see: I heard something, the mind perceived it, and I started thinking about it. I remembered the person and am now thinking about them. We grasp these thoughts like a handful of rice. Then we go backward to cut them off: the person appeared in my mind (in the āyatana of the mind), but in the actual event, other sense organs were involved (other āyatanā, other spheres of perception). There was a sound, and after hearing it, the mind started thinking about a certain person. We catch our mind and start observing how ill-will, attachment, and greed appeared. Where did they come from? In place of the sound that the mind perceived as a person — this is the illusion. Everything perceived by the eye, ear, nose, tongue, and body is neutral. Craving and aversion arise only in the mind. If we understand that this is an illusion, we let it go. It’s like mistaking a mirage for water: once we understand it’s a mirage, we immediately let it go because we realize there was never any water. So we can say that we cut off our thoughts arising from ignorance. The sickle to cut off this ignorance is the Buddha’s Teachings and our wisdom; only through this can we be liberated.
Just as, your majesty, a barley reaper takes a sheaf of barley in the left hand, takes a sickle in the right hand, and cuts the barley, in the same way, your majesty, does the spiritual aspirant take hold of the mind with attention, and cut off the defilements with wisdom. Indeed thus, your majesty, examination is the distinguishing characteristic of attention, and severing is the distinguishing characteristic of wisdom.
But in reality, during meditation, we don’t need to do much: practice keeping the mind on the object of mindfulness. We only need a pure mind. When the mind becomes calm, we will be able to catch and understand such mistaken moments, and then we will practice mindfulness again. This is how we practice samatha-vipassanā.
Try to recognize your sense organs, your spheres of perception as they are. Try to see impermanence: impermanence means that when there are causes, the sense organs arise; when there are no causes, the sense organs disappear. Wishing you a successful practice!
Mendicants, rationally apply the mind to the eye. Truly see the impermanence of the eye. When a mendicant does this, they grow disillusioned with the eye. When relishing ends, greed ends. When greed ends, relishing ends. When relishing and greed end, the mind is said to be well freed.
Rationally apply the mind to the ear …nose …tongue …body …mind. Truly see the impermanence of the mind. When a mendicant does this, they grow disillusioned with the mind. When relishing ends, greed ends. When greed ends, relishing ends. When relishing and greed end, the mind is said to be well freed.
RU 
EN