Waking Up to Dharma: Reflecting on a Decade of Practice

Every Moment

“Although even when we ‘lose sight of’ the present moment, that is the quality of our present moment” (Uchiyama 2011, 152).

The path of following Dhamma is a full time job. Every moment, you are either moving towards, or away from liberation. You are either planting seeds of future becoming, or uprooting old habit patterns. As public figure Henry Rollins said:

“No such thing as spare time, free time or down time — all you got is life time. Go.”

We see this in Dhamma too — there is not a single moment in which the five aggregates are not clinging. The notion that practice can wait, is a misconception I’m slowly waking up from. Retraining the way in which one’s body-mind system is oriented towards the world is a gradual process. Moving from being patterned by five-clinging-aggregates (pañca-upādānakkhandha) to simply five-aggregates is a journey of letting go, and it takes immense practice. The practice consists of finding all the areas where you are clinging to life — where you remain under the delusion that there is something to hold on to. The first step is seeing that it’s happening all the time. The second is that it is both subtle and obvious.

The Three Poisons are neither gross, nor rare. They operate constantly, and pervade almost every action we take. I used to believe that greed (lobha), aversion (dosa) and ignorance (moha) were big acts that I would be able to easily catch before they snowball out of control. An example being trying to push someone (aversion), or stealing from someone (greed). Yet, it has become apparent that these poisons (kleshas) work in subtle ways.

Consider how often we change our posture — our body is constantly searching for contact with the optimal sitting position. Try observing someone else, or yourself over the course of a minute. Dozens of minor adjustments are made. Instead of accepting a position, every moment we sow seeds of craving. Existence-craving (bhava-taṇhā) for a position to be obtained, and non-existence craving (vibhava-taṇhā) for where we just were. If this seems inconsequential, it’s only because this behavior is so pervasive.

The poisons also manifest in the subtle glance of distaste we give when someone bumps us, or doesn’t hold the door…this is aversion and hatred.These small acts are what sow the seeds of becoming, lay the groundwork for the larger, more consequential acts. Furthermore, when we consider ourselves as substantial, different and of primary egoic importance — this is aversion towards existence (as this belief holds no ultimate validity). My initial observation is thus: our dissatisfaction with existence manifests every moment. If we seek the cessation of this dukkha, then our practice must also be every moment.

The Mind’s Agenda

“And you will have no time to appreciate the cool wind. This is what most people are doing. Reality will be experienced only when you are in some particular condition” (Suzuki 2011, 124).

Part of learning to practice Dhamma every moment is paying attention to what’s on my mind. We seldom have agency over what thoughts appear to our consciousness — however I think the key is this: shorten the interval of time between, 1) thinking about something, and, 2) assessing whether I ought to be thinking about it. The moment something is placed on your mind — your five-clinging-aggregates work in consort and begin thinking, judging and elaborating. It is rightly said in the Dvedhavitakka Sutta that:

“Whatever a monk keeps pursuing with his thinking and pondering, that becomes the inclination of his awareness” (MN 19).

How dangerous is this, given that so many of our thought patterns are unconscious. Without any intentional effort, our mind reverts to stereotypes, and attends only to the allure of sensual objects. While there is certainly pleasure to be gained from this, the drawbacks of sensuality far outweigh the benefits (MN 13).

Now there is nothing wrong with thinking about the vacation you will take during winter break, this is valuable for planning purposes. But thinking about it for the twentieth time in one hour is pure samsāric delusion. I’m learning to catch myself in the midst of delusion, to pause and assess whether what is currently on my mind is worthwhile, all while understanding that, “What one intends, one arranges” (SN 35.95). Slowly, I’m learning to take seriously what I place on my mind — not to engage in elaborations about things so carelessly. A great way to do this is to switch from the habit of attending to the allure of things. It is said: “I foresaw in unskillful qualities drawbacks, degradation, and defilement” (MN 19). Look towards the faults in worldly phenomena, and do so to incite an attitude of renunciation.

It’s worth briefly looking at the Shunryu Suzuki quote at the beginning , as it is particularly pertinent to this issue. Since our basic physiological needs have been taken care of, our minds are now free to engage in endless mental proliferations (papañca). Reality is never enough for the mind — and the four nutriments that are required to sustain us soon become the catalyst for our intellectual spinning. I’m learning to see the drawbacks of this, remembering that after the essential is taken care of — it’s okay to enjoy the cool wind.

Ignorance

“Ignorant people get stuck in words like an elephant in deep mud” (Lankavatara Sutra).

The more learning I do, the more I see Buddhism as a compassionate suggestion. Simply, the Buddha is suggesting that if you saw reality as it truly was (yathābhūtam), this would lead to the cessation of suffering. The problem is, your vision is so clouded by the kleshas that you can’t even conceive of such a reality. As such, we are encouraged to practice the Noble Eightfold Path, and learn to let go of our grasping tendencies. We are being led to an epistemic shift in perspective. Changing the way that we engage with reality, by placing an emphasis on the structure of experience as opposed to its content. We must see the three marks of impermanence (anicca), not- self (anatta) and suffering (dukkha) in every experience. This will help us abandon our addiction to papañca. The trick is to shift our attention from the content of what is occurring, to its quality of arising, abiding and ceasing. I think that ultimately, we need to have an experiential realization of the following:

“What is impermanent, that is suffering. What is suffering, that is not-self. What is not-self, that should be seen as it really is with correct wisdom. Thus: not, this is mine; not, this am I; not, this is myself.” (SN 22.59)

The first step out of ignorance is acknowledge that we are ignorant, seeing dukkha as dukkha. As I see it — this is a slow process of disenchantment that cannot happen all at once. Gradually along the path, everything you once took solace in appears as impermanent, conditioned and full of dukkha. This is why Buddhism begins with taking refuge — you are now totally lost in the sea of samsāra seeking a way out. The more ignorance I perceive, the more necessary I view my practice. I’ve noticed that an apparent contradiction exists: if we need to become fully dissatisfied with conditioned reality, in what way are we accepting the present moment? The answer is that we can never truly accept the present moment from within our conceit driven Self- structure. As long as the five aggregates are clinging aggregates, suffering will continue to permeate one’s experience. So until then, we must train to stop craving and clinging. Relax into what is, training ourselves to see reality clearly moment to moment. We must dig ourselves out from the mud of ignorance.

Practice

Not meditating once we’ve received teachings is like shopping for all our favorite foods, arranging them beautifully in the kitchen, and then not eating. We’ll starve to death. Meditating is like eating:our pantry is full and we partake of what we’ve gathered. (Chagdud Rinpoche 1994, 14).

I attended my first silent ten-day meditation retreat at age seventeen. I’m grateful to have been introduced to the Dhamma so early on in my life. The meditation I practice is vipassana, as taught in the S.N. Goenka tradition. Since undertaking my course of study at HKU, my practice has been moving off the meditation cushion and into my daily life, as explained in the preceding paragraphs. However, I view seated practice as integral to developing a coherent understanding of Buddhist teachings. As explained in Upadana Sutta, when there is sensory contact, there is always a feeling. However, this need not lead to craving and clinging, as the critical link in the chain of dependent origination (pratītyasamutpāda), is that between feeling and craving. This is where we can enter into the wheel of becoming and start to put an end to it.

In my practice, I draw my awareness through my physical body, attending to sensations as they arise. The key is to not instinctively grasp at them. It’s challenging not to develop aversion to unpleasant sensations, and greed towards pleasant ones. However, because everything changes so quickly within the body, it is the perfect laboratory for this experiment. Moreover, as the practice deepens and your awareness sharpens, very subtle and primal sensations are uncovered (such as deep muscular tension, your heart-beat, etc..). This in turn leads to the uncovering of old emotions. Through pratītyasamutpāda, we understand that when sensations occur (bodily acts) craving (mind acts) soon follow. So it is the case that old sensations will often be accompanied by old memories. Remaining equanimous in the face of this is the key to ensuring no new seeds of becoming are planted. For instance, if an old painful sensation arises, and along with it a painful memory — it is of utmost importance not to react with aversion towards it.

Without repressing or indulging, but staying in the middle, we can come out of our habit patterns of craving. This is coherent with the goal of more modern techniques of psychoanalysis, which involve uncovering subconscious complexes — and I feel as though I’m doing similar inner work. Through increased sensitivity, I’m revealing my instinctive reaction patterns — and understanding them in light of the Dhamma teachings I’ve received. Every moment we have the opportunity to come out of our patterns of suffering. Using the right view (samma-ditthi) obtained from study, I’m slowly able to see dukkha more clearly, and understand the importance of maintaining my practice for the benefit of myself, and all sentient beings.