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| But instead of having to do that, we look at our lives
here as mendicants, which means giving up the ability to control everything. We don't have
any money; we have to accept alms food; and we've given up our ability to arrange and
manipulate conditions for our own benefit. We're at the mercy of the society we're in.
Fortunately this society is fairly merciful, so we have this nice temple now we can sit in
and good food every day and many other benefits. Yet still we're dependent on the mercy of
this society for basic survival, for the four requisites. So that means we're deliberately
choosing not to be in control of all that and taking the risk of meeting hard-heartedness,
indifference, and abuse. There’s no reason why anybody should respect me because I'm
a Buddhist monk, especially in a non-Buddhist country, but the fact is there's never been
a problem, for me, living in Britain, because there is good-heartedness. This 'samana'
life does seem to bring out the goodness in others. It brings out the merciful virtue. However, our occupation as samanas is not just to survive on almsfood and all the rest. This isn't an end in itself, it just takes care of the basic necessities of life. But then we don't have to spend our lives trying to survive or having to support ourselves, but we can live in a simple way and develop the meditation, the bha=vana, literally "cultivation." This means learning to relax and listen, pay attention, both internally and externally. |
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Externally we are not making judgements as to whether we like this or that, but observing the way things are; and then internally we can observe our fears and desires, or the way our conceit operates, the way various emotions arise and cease. And as we explore our own minds, we become aware of the edge where the thinking ceases. My intellectual mind is programmed to endlessly criticise my moods and habits -- so if I have no cessation of thought, then all I can do is just try to rationalise my existence as a monk. This is not a liberating experience. So first of all I recognise the cessation of thought. I investigate the state of not-knowing, the experience of not-knowing, where the thinking process ceases and suddenly you're aware: non-thinking is like "this." There are gaps between thoughts. Also I use "the sound of silence," and found it very helpful as a sign where the thinking mind ceases. |
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