Ajahn Sucitto

[From last week:] It’s Always Possible: So, whenever there is darkness in the heart, that’s when you practise bright kamma and ending kamma. You don’t have to figure out where the dissonance comes from and whose fault it is. All you need to know is that this is dark vipāka – and where it gets cleared. The process is like cleaning dirty laundry: it’s done both by the action of placing the laundry in a basin and swishing it around, and without action because the water does the cleaning. So, you take that dark residue and put it into the clarity or purity that skilful attention brings into play, and the dirt will begin to clear. We establish mindfulness, and deep attention lets go of what comes up. Whenever some of the dark residues get cleared, full knowing senses the lightness, or brightness. And you can tune in to that. This makes your citta broader, deeper and clearer. Over time there develops a ground of well-being, a gathering of puñña, that you can abide in. Through years of practice, your basin becomes a lake. But because with full knowing there isn’t the sense that ‘I’ve done this’ or ‘This means I’m this,’ the mind remains quiet and receptive.

Our practice then is led by Dhamma rather than driven by self-view; and it inclines towards stopping the old rather than becoming something new. It’s a cultivation that frees up, protects and gathers us into a free space at the centre of the heart. Bright kamma supports the kamma that leads to the end of kamma; it gives us a foretaste of that freedom.

Sit in a comfortable and upright position, one that allows your body to be free from tension and fidgeting while encouraging you to be attentive. Let your eyes close or half-close. Bring your mental awareness to bear on your body, feeling its weight, pressures, pulses and rhythms. Bring up the suggestion of settling in to where you are right now, and put aside other concerns for the time being.

Take a few long, slow out-breaths sensing your breath flowing out into the space around you; let the in-breath begin by itself. Sense how the in-breath draws in from the space around you.  Attune to the rhythm of that process, and interrupt any distracting thoughts by re-establishing your attention on each out-breath.

Bring to mind any instances of people’s actions that have touched you in a positive way in terms of kindness, or patience, or understanding. Repeatedly touch the heart with a few specific instances, dwelling on the impression and the mood that it evokes. You might extend this recollection to include uplifting moments or interactions from the past, or by bringing to mind teachers who have inspired you.

Stay with the most deeply-felt recollection for a minute or two, with a sense of curiosity: ‘How does this affect me?’ Sense any effect in terms of heart: there may be a quality of uplift, or of calming, or of firmness. You may even detect a shift in your overall body tone. Allow yourself all the time in the world to be here with no particular purpose other than to feel how this recollection affects you in a sympathetic listening way.

Settle into that mood, and focus particularly on its tone – which may be of brightness or of stability or of uplift. Put aside analytical thought. Let any images come to mind and pass through. Dwell upon and expand awareness of the sense of vitality or stillness, of comfort or stability.

Then notice what inclinations and attitudes seem natural and important when you are dwelling in your place of value. Then bring those to your daily-life situation by asking: ‘What is important to me now?’ ‘What matters most?’ Then give yourself time to let the priorities of action establish themselves in accordance with that.

The Kamma of Meditation

Resetting the Mind
Wisdom springs from training the mind;
without such training, wisdom declines.
Having understood these paths –
of progress and decline –
one should conduct oneself so that wisdom grows.
Dhammapada: ‘The Path’, 282

“The Buddhist Path proceeds according to the principles of training the mind in three complementary modes: ethics (sīla), meditation (samādhi) and wisdom (paññā). All these have active aspects, but what they lead to is a quietening and ceasing of mental activity. Meditation (samādhi-bhavanā) is the hinge between action and this restful alertness. It doesn’t look active: it often centres on sitting still, and within that, in silence. And as for doing anything … all it apparently entails are a few seemingly inconsequential things like walking to and fro, bringing attention to the sensations associated with breathing, or witnessing thoughts. But such actions bring around an engaged and responsive state. Furthermore, although the question might arise as to how doing this is supposed to improve one’s mind, one point about meditation is that it’s about moderating that very ‘doing’ energy. That can bring around very positive changes.

Towards this end, meditation practice uses the mind’s thinking in a particular way – not to think about experience, but to use thought to place attention onto your own body and mind and sustain receptivity to what is noticed. This brings around a positive change because the more we moderate our minds in this way, the more we steady and attune them – so that restlessness, worry and negativity either don’t arise or are witnessed and let go of. This process can generate far-reaching effects in our life: we get to enjoy and value stillness and simplicity, we don’t get caught by emotional upheaval, and we know how to let things pass. The result is calm, confidence and clarity.  [Continued next week 12 September 2024]