That Which Endures

That Which Endures

Ajahn Nyanamoli Thero serves as an infinite source of inspiration, and is a teacher I shall always be humbly devoted to; even more so when I disagree with his words. Without him, I would not be here today. Today, then, there’s a lot to digest. The topic is on the mundane level (as opposed to the absolute - not equaled to ‘boring’ or ‘common’) on that which endures. First of all, the context. What is the path? We’re talking here, again, about arahantship, or enlightenment, but more relatably, stream-entry, Sotāpanna. The first “milestone”. That which we’re walking towards, which marks the first signpost saying “you’re in the right direction.” Only 5000 miles to go. How do we get there? What does it signify? Where do I, more lost than most, but perseverant in my ‘lostness’, start? Well, first of all, by understanding that I’m not there. Which means something is lacking. Mindfulness. That golden word. The ultimate buzz-word of the spirituality circle. What does it mean? How do I practice? What do I, in my daily life, change, in order to commit to the path? Well, first of all, you take on the 5 precepts. What are those, again?

  1. No killing (Any sentient Beings - that includes mosquitoes)
  2. No stealing (No taking that which wasn’t freely given)
  3. No lying (Speaking untruth - also includes ‘idle gossip’)
  4. No sexual misconduct
  5. No consuming of intoxicants

Easy enough. At least they’re (somewhat) concrete. The precepts stop one from ‘falling’ too far into the world. But the keeping of the precepts is the important point. It forces you to be aware of your actions. It builds up the pressure. “My inclinations are steering me in one direction, but I mustn’t submit.” It’s the start of the practice - of going against the grain. I want to stress this point, because it sounds perhaps a bit flavorless. It’s the start of the practice - going against the grain. Everything beforehand is not this. Everything else has been going with the grain, with habituation, with expectations, with worldliness. This, just this, starts a revolution. I shall be a slave no longer. A slave to which master? Sensuality. You might know her by a different name. Pleasure. Probably even ‘happiness’. The point then, is, ultimately, the endurance of the pressure that is built up. Which means that the precepts can be kept while missing the point, if they’re given ‘freely’ (such as in a monastic environment). What else, then? Well, not submitting to sensuality. Sense-restraint. Again, to endure the pressure of incessant desires. That which was always there, but never felt, because you submitted. The next important point; solitude. It’s required in order to develop that sensitivity, to develop the ability to see, to distinguish, to discriminate. What are we looking for? Everything and nothing. But that’s a bit too poetic. We’re looking for that which endures.

So we know we’re looking. Where do we start? How do we even identify that which we’re looking for? We should like to start, in fact, at the other end. Where is that? At that which does not endure. The Buddha says all things are impermanent. Here I am, in the world, my eyes are open, I see things. They are impermanent. What’s the point? To identify them as such. Not as impermanent, strictly, although that’s the background to what we’re doing. Rather, to identify them as things. As existing. As phenomena. What is phenomena? All things, really. That which makes up experience as such. There’s physical, material, phenomena. Mental, psychic, phenomena. Everything and anything inbetween. The practice is that of “putting your experience in brackets.” Experience is experience. It consists of phenomena. They are not me. Well, maybe. So we notice them as such. It is not an investigation. Confusing phenomena is confusing. Subtle, unclear, phenomena, is subtle and unclear phenomena. That is what they are. We do not need to make them into anything else. However, this marks an attitude towards being in the world. It is an act of, slowly but surely, unabsorbing yourself from the world, from experience. Noticing it, as it is. It is “concurrent attention”. Being aware of the background, while simultaneously attending to the foreground. It is not a shift of focus, the foreground is not the point. But we should always be aware of it as such. As I breathe, I know that I am breathing.

What is the background that we’re supposed to be aware of, really? Aha. That’s the entire point. That which endures. As enduring, it is subtle. It hides. You cannot be neutral on a moving train. At first, you cannot see it. We’re so habituated in our absorption. We require objects, things. Phenomena. Experience. So as you practice, you will notice, well, nothing really. It’s not another experience. There’s no flashing lights, no feeling of bliss. It doesn’t make life easier, in fact, most likely things will seemingly take a turn in the other direction as you really start looking. Meditation is not sitting dormant, waiting for something to happen. Neither is it a search for something like Samadhi. Knowingly he breathes in. Knowingly he breathes out. This is why it requires faith, persistance. This is why so much of practice is trying to arouse these strong feelings of its necessity. There is suffering. Here, you start. Now, you persist. Eventually, as you notice phenomena, arising, falling, something else might be noticed. What is it? That which endures.


Source: https://youtu.be/yptLIdi1JW8