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沙发

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发表于 2018-3-21 14:33:05
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thoughts may go spinning, your mind is still firmly based -- like holding onto a post and spinning around and around. You can keep on spinning, and yet it doesn't wear you out. But if you let go of the post and spin around three times, you get dizzy and -- Bang! -- fall flat on your face. So it is with the mind: If it stays with the singleness of its preoccupation, it can keep thinking and not get tired, not get harmed. Your thinking is cintamaya-panna; your stillness, bhavanamaya-panna: they're right there together. This is the strategy of skillfulness, discernment on the level of concentration practice. Thinking and stillness keep staying together like this. When we practice generosity, it comes under the level of appropriate attention; when we practice virtue, it comes under the level of appropriate attention; and when we practice concentration, we don't lose a beat -- it comes under the same sort of principle, only more advanced: directed thought and evaluation. When you have directed thought and evaluation in charge of the mind, then the more you think, the more solid and sure the mind gets. The more you sit and meditate, the more you think. The mind becomes more and more firm until all the Hindrances (nivarana) fall away. The mind no longer goes looking for concepts. Now it can give rise to knowledge.
The knowledge here isn't ordinary knowledge. It washes away your old knowledge. You don't want the knowledge that comes from ordinary thinking and reasoning: Let go of it. You don't want the knowledge that comes from directed thought and evaluation: Stop. Make the mind quiet. Still. When the mind is still and unhindered, this is the essence of all that's meritorious and skillful. When your mind is on this level, it isn't attached to any concepts at all. All the concepts you've known -- dealing with the world or the Dhamma, however many or few -- are washed away. Only when they're washed away can new knowledge arise.
This is why we're taught not to hold onto concepts -- all the labels and names we have for things. You have to let yourself be poor. It's when people are poor that they become ingenious and resourceful. If you don't let yourself be poor, you'll never gain discernment. In other words, you don't have to be afraid of being stupid or of missing out on things. You don't have to be afraid that you've hit a dead end. You don't want any of the insights you've gained from listening to others or from reading books, because they're concepts, and therefore inconstant. You don't want any of the insights you've gained by reasoning and thinking, because they're concepts, and therefore not-self. Let all these insights disappear, leaving just the mind, firmly intent, leaning neither to the left, toward self-torment or displeasure; nor to the right, toward sensual indulgence or being pleased. Keep the mind still, quiet, neutral, impassive -- set tall. And there you are: Right Concentration.
When Right Concentration arises in the mind, it has a shadow. When you can catch sight of the shadow appearing, that's vipassana: insight meditation. Vipassana-nana is the first branch of knowledge and skill in the Buddha's teaching. The second branch is iddhividhi, the power of mind over matter. The third is manomayiddhi, the power of mind-made images. The fourth is dibba-cakkhu, clairvoyance. The fifth is dibba-sota, clairaudience. The sixth is cetopariya-nana, the ability to read minds. The seventh is pubbenivasanussati-nana, knowledge of previous lifetimes. And the eighth, asavakkhaya-nana, knowledge of the ending of mental fermentations. All eight of these branches are forms of knowledge and skill that arise from concentration. People without concentration can't gain them: that's an absolute guarantee. No matter how smart or clever they may be, they can't gain these forms of knowledge. They have to fall under the power of ignorance.
These eight branches of knowledge come from Right Concentration. When they arise they're not called thoughts or ideas. They're called Right Views. What looks wrong to you is really wrong. What looks right is really right. If what looks right is really wrong, that's Wrong View. If what looks wrong is really right, again -- Wrong View. With Right View, though, right looks right and wrong looks wrong.
To put it in terms of cause and effect, you see the four Noble Truths. You see stress (dukkha), and it really is stressful. You see the cause of stress arising, and that it's really causing stress. These are Noble Truths: absolutely, undeniably, indisputably true. You see that stress has a cause. Once the cause arises, there has to be stress. As for the way to the disbanding of stress, you see that the path you're following will, without a doubt, lead to Liberation. Whether or not you go all the way, what you see is correct. This is Right View. And as for the disbanding of stress, you see that there really is such a thing. You see that as long as you're on the path, stress does in fact fall away. When you come to realize the truth of these things in your heart, that's vipassana-nana.
To put it even more simply: You see that all things, inside as well as out, are undependable. The body is undependable, aging is undependable, death is undependable. They're slippery characters, constantly changing on you. To see this is to see inconstancy. Don't let yourself be pleased by inconstancy. Don't let yourself be upset. Keep the mind neutral, on an even keel. That's what's meant by vipassana.
Sometimes inconstancy makes us happy, sometimes it makes us sad. Say we hear that a person we don't like is going to be demoted, or is sick or dying. It makes us gleeful, and we can't wait for him or her to die. His body is impermanent, his life is uncertain -- it can change -- but we're glad. That's a defilement. Say we hear that a son or daughter has become wealthy, influential, and famous, and we become happy. Again, our mind has strayed from the noble path. It's not firmly in Right Concentration. We have to make the mind neutral: not thrilled over things, not upset over things, not thrilled when our plans succeed, not upset when they don't. When we can make the mind neutral like this, that's the neutrality of Right View. We see what's wrong, what's right, and try to steer the mind away from the wrong and toward the right. This is called Right Resolve, part of vipassana-nana.
The same holds true with stress, whether it's our stress and pain, or somebody else's. Say we hear that an enemy is suffering. `Glad to hear it,' we think. `Hope they hurry up and die.' The heart has tilted. Say we hear that a friend has become wealthy, and we become happy; or a son or daughter is ill, and we become sad. Our mind has fallen in with suffering and stress. Why? Because we don't have any knowledge. We're unskilled. The mind isn't centered. In other words, it's not in Right Concentration. We have to look after the mind. Don't let it fall in with stress. Whatever suffers, let it suffer, but don't let the mind suffer with it. The people in the world may be pained, but the mind isn't pained along with them. Pain may arise in the body, but the mind isn't pained along with it. Let the body go ahead and suffer, but the mind doesn't suffer. Keep the mind neutral. Don't be pleased by pleasure, either -- pleasure is a form of stress, you know. How so? It can change. It can rise and fall. It can be high and low. It can't last. That's stress. Pain is also stress: double stress. When you gain this sort of insight into stress -- when you really see stress -- vipassana has arisen in the mind.
As for anatta, not-self: Once we've examined things and seen them for what they really are, we don't make claims, we don't display influence, we don't try to show that we have the right or the power to bring things that are not-self under our control. No matter how hard we try, we can't prevent birth, aging, illness and death. If the body is going to be old, let it be old. If it's going to hurt, let it hurt. If it has to die, let it die. Don't be pleased by death, either your own or that of others. Don't be upset by death, your own or that of others. Keep the mind neutral. Unruffled. Unfazed. This is sankharupekkha-nana: letting sankharas -- all things fashioned and fabricated -- follow their own inherent nature. The mind like this is in vipassana.
This is the first branch of knowledge -- vipassana -- in brief: You see that all things fashioned are inconstant, stressful, and not-self. You can disentangle them from your grasp. You can let go. This is where it gets good. How so? You don't have to wear yourself out, lugging sankharas around.
To be attached means to carry a load, and there are five heaps (khandhas) we carry:
rupupadanakkhandho: physical phenomena are the first load;
vedanupadanakkhandho: feelings that we're attached to are another;
sannupadanakkhandho: the concepts and labels that we claim are ours are a pole for carrying a load on our shoulder;
sankharupadanakkhandho: the mental fashionings that we hang onto and think are ours;
vinnanupadanakkhandho: our attachment to sensory consciousness.
Go ahead: Carry them around. Hang one load from your left leg and one from your right. Put one on your left shoulder and one on your right. Put the last load on your head. And now: Carry them wherever you go -- clumsy, encumbered, and comical.
bhara have pancakkhandha
Go ahead and carry them. The five khandhas are a heavy load,
bharaharo ca puggalo
and as individuals we burden ourselves with them.
bharadanam dukkham loke
Carry them everywhere you go, and you waste your time suffering in the world.
The Buddha taught that whoever lacks discernment, whoever is unskilled, whoever doesn't practice concentration leading to liberating insight, will have to be burdened with stress, will always be loaded down. It's pathetic. It's a shame. They'll never get away. When they're loaded down like this, it's really pathetic. Their legs are burdened, their shoulders burdened -- and where are they going? Three steps forward and two steps back. Soon they'll get discouraged, and then after a while they'll pick themselves up and get going again.
Now, when we see inconstancy -- that all things fashioned, whether within us or without, are undependable; when we see that they're stressful; when we see that they're not our self, that they simply whirl around in and of themselves: When we gain these insights, we can put down our burdens, i.e., let go of our attachments. We can put down the past -- i.e., stop dwelling in it. We can let go of the future -- i.e., stop yearning for it. We can let go of the present -- i.e., stop claiming it as the self. Once these three big baskets have fallen from our shoulders, we can walk with a light step. We can even dance. We're beautiful. Wherever we go, people will be glad to know us. Why? Because we're not encumbered. Whatever we do, we can do with ease. We can walk, run, dance and sing -- all with a light heart. We're Buddhism's beauty, a sight for sore eyes, graceful wherever we go. No longer burdened, no longer encumbered, we can be at our ease. This is vipassana-?ana: the first branch of knowledge.
So. Now that we've cleared away these splinters and thorns so that everything is level and smooth, we can relax. And now we're ready for the knowledge that we can use as a weapon. What's the knowledge we use as a weapon? Iddhividhi. We can display powers in one way or another, and give rise to miraculous things by way of the body, by way of speech, or by way of the mind. We have powers that we can use in doing the work of the religion. That's called iddhividhi. But in the Canon they describe it as different kinds of walking: walking through the water without getting wet, walking through fire without getting hot, staying out in the rain without getting chilled, staying out in the wind without getting cold, resilient enough to withstand wind, rain, and sun. If you're young, you can make yourself old; if old, you can make yourself young. If you're tall, you can make yourself short; if short, you can make yourself tall. You can change your body in all kinds of ways.
This is why the Buddha was able to teach all kinds of people. If he was teaching old people, he'd make his body look old. Old people talking with old people can have a good time, because there's no distrust or suspicion. If he met up with pretty young women, he could make himself look young. He'd enjoy talking with them, they'd enjoy talking with him and not get bored. This is why the Dhamma he taught appealed to all classes of people. He could adapt his body to fit with whatever type of society he found himself in. For instance, if he met up with children, he'd talk about the affairs of children, act in a childlike way. If he met up with old people, he'd talk about the affairs of old people. If he met up with young men and women, he'd talk about the affairs of young men and women. They'd all enjoy listening to what he had to say, develop a sense of faith, become Buddhists, and even ordain. This is called iddhividhi.
Next is manomayiddhi, power in the area of the mind. The mind acquires power. What kind of power? You can go wherever you want. If you want to go sightseeing in hell, you can. If you want to get away from human beings, you can go sightseeing in hell. It's nice and relaxing. You can play with the denizens of hell, fool around with the denizens of hell. Any of them who have only a little bad kamma can come up and chat with you, to send word back to their relatives. Once you get back from touring around hell you can tell the relatives to make merit in the dead person's name.
Or, if you want, you can travel in the world of common animals and chat with mynah birds, owls -- any kind of bird -- or with four-footed animals, two-footed animals. You can go into the forests, into the wilds, and converse with the animals there. It's a lot of fun, not like talking with people. Talking with people is hard; talking with animals is easy. You don't have to say a lot, simply think in the mind: tell them stories, ask them questions, like, "Now that you're an animal, what do you eat? Do you get enough to stay full and content?" You find that you have a lot of companions there, people who used to be your friends and relatives.
Or, if you want, you can travel in the world of the hungry shades. The world of the hungry shades is even more fun. Hungry shades come in all different shapes and sizes -- really entertaining, the hungry shades. Some of them have heads as big as large water jars, but their mouths are just like the eye of a needle: that's all, no bigger than the eye of a needle! Some of them have legs six yards long, but hands only half a foot. They're amazing to watch, just like a cartoon. Some of them have lower lips with no upper lips, some of them are missing their lips altogether, with their teeth exposed all the time. There are all kinds of hungry shades. Some of them have big, bulging eyes, the size of coconuts, others have fingernails as long as palm leaves. You really ought to see them. Some of them are so fat they can't move, others so thin that they're nothing but bones. And sometimes the different groups get into battles, biting each other, hitting each other. That's the hungry shades for you. Really entertaining.
This is called manomayiddhi. When the mind is firmly established, you can go see these things. Or you can go to the land of the nagas, the different lands on the human level -- sometimes, when you get tired of human beings, you can go visit the heavens: the heaven of the Four Great Kings, the heaven of the Guardians of the Hours, the Thirty-three gods, all the way up there to the Brahma worlds. The mind can go without any problem. This is called manomayiddhi. It's a lot of fun. Your defilements are gone, your work is done, you've got enough rice to eat and money to spend, so you can go traveling to see the sights and soak up the breezes. That's manomayiddhi.
Dibba-cakkhu: clairvoyance. You gain eyes on two levels. The outer level is called the mansa-cakkhu, the eye of the flesh, which enables you to look at human beings in the world, devas in the world. The eye of discernment allows you to examine the defilements of human beings: those with coarse defilements, those with thick defilements, those with faith in the Buddha's teachings, those with none, those who have the potential to be taught, those with no potential at all. You can consider them with your internal discernment. This is called pa??a-cakkhu, the eye of discernment. In this way you have eyes on two levels.
Most of us have eyes on only one level, the eye of the flesh, while the inner eye doesn't arise. And how could it arise? You don't wash the sleep out of your eyes. What are the bits of sleep in your eyes? Sensual desire, an enormous hunk. Ill will, another big hunk. Sloth and torpor, a hunk the |
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