Selected excerpts from Kamma and the End of Kamma by Ajahn Sucitto

Taken as a whole, the practice of pāramī sets up values that skilfully direct the mind. Attitudes and energies that go towards self-aggrandizement, manipulation or distraction are cut off. And, as intention gets free of those biases, we notice different things – because what we look for affects what we look at. With worldly conditioning, the mind is focused on material gain, status and superficial appearances. That always brings the need for more, and the fear of losing what’s been gained: i.e. stress. But if we look at life in terms of what we can give, rather than gain; if we incline towards valuing patience and resolution rather than quick, short-term results; and if we prioritize our integrity rather than speculate as to whether we are admired or ignored – we notice bright or dark kamma. And we notice how stress arises and how it ceases. Our ‘naming’ of the world shifts to designate it as a vehicle for value and liberation, rather than a me/them, gain/loss ride on a roller coaster.

However, as you hold to the values of a skilful life, that purifying process reveals dispositions and tendencies that are latent and unresolved. These latent tendencies (anusaya) include basic inclinations such as sensual passion, irritation, opinionatedness and conceit – which may not be revealed as such in ordinary life because our ways of operating avoid a thorough investigation of our inclinations. This is why we resolve not to follow the casual slide into worldly values. Instead, we make commitments to acts of value and integrity.

In this respect, Buddhist practice isn’t about peak moments. It’s about training. It’s about strengthening and broadening commitment to standards and virtues, even when the peak experiences aren’t rolling in and your unacknowledged tendencies are rising up. In fact, the ordinary situation of living with others is a great opportunity for developing pāramī. Through aware interaction, we get to see that our ‘naming’ – our interpretations of what is normal or friendly, our attitudes around leadership and independence, our sensitivity to other people – differs from other people’s ‘naming’ in the same situation. Responding to this takes a lot of patience, goodwill and commitment in order to clear biases. That gives life a transcendent purpose: it’s about freeing the mind from narrow-mindedness, concerns over status, and fault-finding – to name a few aspects of ‘self-view’.

I’ve grown to appreciate this integrated approach, especially as I didn’t start my practice from this perspective. In the monastery in Thailand in which I began my training as a Buddhist monk, there was a section set aside for intensive meditation practice. Monks in the monastery would go into this section in order to review and deepen their understanding of Dhamma. They’d generally spend a couple of weeks in there and then return to what they were part of. I was one of the few Westerners; the three or four of us there were all new to Thailand, meditation and monastic life. We had nothing to do, no get-togethers, nowhere to go and no way of returning to what we were part of. Conversation wasn’t allowed. It was, as you might guess, pretty stressful being in a small hut all day trying to meditate and watching the mind jump over the monastery wall for hours at a time. The one thing that we did do together was go out on alms-round, in silence, every morning. It was our only occasion of being together in the entire day; it should have been easy, just walking along receiving offerings. But instead, all kinds of stuff, stuff that wasn’t on the enlightenment script, came up.

The first person in my life who said he’d like to kill me, with an axe, if possible, was a fellow-monk. Well, I did walk on alms-round at a pace that he felt was too slow, while he had to walk behind me … As for myself, I can’t recall having much of a violent impulse until I became a serious meditating monk … but now here I was feeling violent towards a monk (another one) walking behind me! After all, the Buddha said we should walk quietly, making little noise, so that we could be calm and focused in order to get enlightened – but every day that monk behind me kept on clearing his throat as we walked along … That’s justification for murder, isn’t it?

Naturally, we didn’t act on these impulses; we let them pass. Which was a little bit of awakening. There was enough bright kamma to have a sense of morality, and even of mindfulness. However, they blew apart the idea that you don’t have ill-will just because in solitude no-one’s pushing your buttons. So, in terms of the big picture, a murderous impulse was useful: I had to let go of my idea of being a reasonable, easy-going person, and focus on the tendency of ill-will. And further, when I acknowledged that my solitary practice hadn’t made it any easier to share the planet for a couple of hours with another harmless human being who shared my interest in awakening, the paradigm of mind-cultivation had to shift. I began to understand that you don’t get out of kamma by avoiding it.

To be continued