You entered the woods desiring seclusion,
yet your mind strays to outward things.
As a person, you should dispel the desire for people.
Then you’ll be happy, free of greed.
Vivekasutta: Seclusion (SN 9.1),
translation by Ven. Bhikkhu Sujato
Our monastery is called Cittaviveka (Chittaviveka). The word viveka cannot be translated with a single word, but it can be said to mean rest (or it is also translated as seclusion, detachment). In the Buddha’s Teachings, three types of rest are explained:1.kāyaviveka: rest of the body;2.cittaviveka: rest of the mind;3.upadhiviveka: rest from mental impurities.
I have noticed that European people do not readily accept the concept of rest. They often equate rest with laziness, idleness, and think that one should always be working, always making an effort. But the Buddha advised rest as well, it just needs to be the right kind of rest. How to rest properly is our topic for today.
The first type of rest is kāyaviveka. Kāya means body. So, the first thing a person must learn is rest for the body. Some of the wholesome qualities that a person striving for Nibbāna should develop are described in the Mettasutta (The Discourse on Love, Snp 1.8). For example, appakicco — having few duties. If a person is constantly busy, it will be difficult for them to practice. They have no rest and, first of all, need rest for the body — kāyaviveka. You, as laypeople, need to work and provide for your families and loved ones. You have work and various responsibilities — these need to be done, but we should try not to worry too much about them. This also relates to the quality subharo — being easy to support, easily satisfied, and contented, so that it is easy for us to provide for ourselves. This, in turn, requires the quality appicchatā, which means having few desires, being content with little (as opposed to mahicchatā — having many desires, being greedy). When a person has many desires, it is difficult for them to provide for themselves and their family.
If a person has such qualities, they will be able to find more free time. Today, you have found free time and can now study the Dhamma. This is also kāyaviveka. A person might think that resting the body means just going somewhere on vacation, but according to the Teachings, kāyaviveka is when a person has time for the Dhamma.
In Sri Lanka, on Uposatha days, there are public holidays, and a person can go to a monastery and take precepts, and on this day they don’t have to worry about anything — they will be provided for, fed, and the monks will explain the Dhamma to them. They can simply listen, practice, and learn in the monastery — this is viveka, rest. And this rest is necessary for us — rest for the body, kāyaviveka: it is needed first and foremost. If you don’t have enough of it, you should think about how to ensure it, how to find time for it.
For example, if we look at Japan, we constantly hear that it is a very developed country, very wealthy, with all possible conveniences. But people there work from morning till night, every day. They say that they don’t even have time to talk to each other, their schedules are so tight that it’s very difficult for them to find free time. They even have a separate word meaning death from overwork — karoshi (過労死). And this is not development; it is decline. Why do we work and earn money? To live. We don’t live to work; we work to live. Life is not just about work. We need to have time to think about how we ended up here, how to overcome our suffering. If you have time for this, then you have some freedom, kāyaviveka, rest for the body.
The second type of rest is cittaviveka, rest for the mind. Citta translates as mind. The mind arises and disappears very quickly; there can be many, many thoughts in the mind, flowing in a continuous, wide stream. Sometimes the mind works so quickly that we ourselves cannot understand what is happening in it. It is like raindrops: there are so many that we cannot consciously perceive or capture them all. Similarly, with the mind when there are too many thoughts. When a person has so many thoughts, they suffer; they have no rest, no freedom, no peace, no concentration, no mindfulness. All of this is lost because there is no rest for the mind.
To achieve rest for the mind, there are two types of practice. The first is the practice of samādhi, concentration, and tranquility. We can observe bodily sensations or the breath — some constant object of mindfulness. When the mind is focused solely on this object of mindfulness and there are very few other thoughts, joy arises in the mind. Thanks to this, lightness, concentration, and tranquility appear, and the mind automatically recalls this meditation object, returning to it without effort. Then the mind constantly inclines towards the meditation object, and joy and lightness develop, allowing the mind to rest — this is freedom for the mind. This is how one can develop their samādhi.
Or, for example, a person sits and thinks only about the Buddha. After some time, the person develops such a level of mindfulness that the mind recalls the qualities of the Buddha almost by itself, without tension and effort. The streams of thoughts will be only about the Buddha: as soon as one stream of contemplations ends, the next stream also arises about the Buddha, and so in the mind, there are only reflections about the Buddha, with few or no other thoughts, and the mind rests. For an ordinary person, thinking is an internal conversation. A constant dialogue with oneself or someone else, or giving oneself directions, memories — these abhisaṅkhāra, these thoughts require enormous energy and create enormous suffering. Because of this, we cannot rest, we cannot calm down. If a person, to some extent, reduces these saṅkhārā, these mental formations arising from ignorance, and develops some wholesome saṅkhārā (kusala saṅkhāra), they provide pleasant sensations, and because of this, the mind also rests. We can achieve this through samatha bhāvanā, the development of the mind through calming on an object of mindfulness.
We can also achieve mental rest (cittaviveka) through vipassanā. Whatever the meditation object for samādhi may be, it does not develop wisdom. But any object for vipassanā develops samādhi. This means that the harmony of the mind is developed in any case during the practice of vipassanā, and wisdom is also developed, allowing us to see the world as it is. This also gives us mental rest.
In order to think, we need some objects. For example, “sea,” “river,” “Sri Lanka” — these are all objects, and when there is an object, we can think about it. When the mind perceives this object as reality, it cannot stop thinking about it; it cannot stop; it becomes a foundation for the mind. Therefore, to stop this, we must see reality; we must see these objects as mirages.
When we begin to see the world as it is through vipassanā, that is, sounds as sounds, saṅkhārā as saṅkhārā, and so on, when we begin to see things as they are, this “foundation” for the proliferation of thinking breaks down and disappears. There are no objects, and then the mind lets go of all of this. Wisdom shows us that our thoughts are not reality; they are just our perceptions. Then the mind can let go of all this; it sees that everything is suñña — there is no being, no permanent soul. It sees: just some thoughts arise and disappear. Sounds, colors, just some elements — there are no beings, no people, animals, or deities. And then the mind lets go of all this. This is suñña: everything is empty of self and anything belonging to self.
There is also appaṇihita — when the mind sees that all thoughts, all objects appearing in the mind, are all aimless. It does not rejoice in any objects and does not cling to anything because it sees the danger in all mental objects, primarily because all of this is not the Truth. When we perceive them as reality, as actuality, suffering arises in the mind. Therefore, the mind lets go of all this as if it were a deadly poisonous snake — we do not want to approach it or take it.
Or animitta arises — signlessness. The mind sees that some objects appear and disappear, and after that, they are gone. They simply arise due to causes and cease when the causes cease. No objects remain in the mind; there is just composure, and the mind rests. Animitta ceto vimutti — signless liberation of the mind. Through vipassanā, we are moving towards such a rest of the mind, towards cittaviveka.
When we practice this way, thoughts gradually decrease in the mind because there is no basis for the proliferation of thinking. But at the initial level, we need wise contemplations, wisely directed attention — yoniso manasikāra, or wisdom, which will show us reality. This is also thinking, but it does not create mental agitation; on the contrary, it is wise contemplation, which helps us let go of our thoughts and reduce our ignorance. In the beginning, we need to think a lot, to practice wise contemplation a lot. But later, when we have formed the right understanding, understanding based on our own experience, the understanding that there is no “I” in the body, that the world is empty of “I” and what belongs to “I,” then we will not need to think as much. A single thought or a few thoughts will be enough, and the mind will understand immediately. Thanks to wise contemplations, our wrong views are corrected, and when we have right views, unwholesome thoughts decrease.
For example, “person” or “ocean” — these are just concepts, they are not actually in the external or internal world; they are simply concepts arising from ignorance, and due to ignorance, we begin to see them in the external world. To understand this, in the beginning, after acquiring this knowledge, we need to think a lot, to reflect a lot on this. But these reflections help us stop thinking about the external object, and then they gradually decrease. And what do we do during meditation then? We rest. We can observe the body, bodily sensations, the breath, and we can rest while doing this, and there will be no special thoughts, just something arising and passing away: the body appears and disappears, sensations appear and disappear, and the mind sees this. But there is not much to think about here, and the mind rests. This is how cittaviveka arises through vipassanā.
The third type of rest is upadhiviveka. Upadhi can be translated as impurities (kilesa) or attachments: house, cars, children, money, and so on. Four types of upadhi are also explained:1.kāmā upadhi;2.kilesā upadhi;3.khandhā upadhi;4.abhisaṅkhārā upadhi.
Kāma are things like money, cars, children, property, and so on. Kilesa are our mental defilements, the impurities of the mind: greed, ill-will, ignorance, envy, pride, and so on. Khandha are our five aggregates, or pañcakkhandhā. Abhisaṅkhāra are subtle mental formations, saṅkhārā. If a person rests from these, it is upadhiviveka, which is complete rest. This can only be achieved by non-returners, anāgāmī, or fully enlightened ones, arahants. A very high level of spiritual development is required for upadhiviveka.
The Buddha praises rest and does not criticize it, but we need to rest properly. Therefore, practice kāyaviveka, practice cittaviveka, and strive to attain upadhiviveka.
Mendicants, when these four times are rightly developed and progressed, they gradually lead to the ending of defilements. What four? A time for listening to the teaching, a time for discussing the teaching, a time for serenity, and a time for discernment.
It’s like when it rains heavily on a mountain top, and the water flows downhill to fill the hollows, crevices, and creeks. As they become full, they fill up the pools. The pools fill up the lakes, the lakes fill up the streams, and the streams fill up the rivers. And as the rivers become full, they fill up the ocean.
In the same way, when these four times are rightly developed and progressed, they gradually lead to the ending of defilements.
Dutiyakālasutta: Times (2nd), AN 4.147, translation by Ven. Bhikkhu Sujato