Saturday December 24th 2011
Bliss & Growth
Spiritual approach to politics, economy, education, health and environment

5. Ignorance

It is wonderful indeed, sir! It is amazing indeed, sir! Now who here won’t be a stream-enterer when the blessed one has declared Sarakàni the Sakyan after he died to be a stream-enterer, no longer bound to the nether world, fixed in destiny, with enlightenment as his destination? Sarakàni the Sakyan was too weak for the training; he drank intoxicating drink!

A Sakyan doubts the Buddha—Sarakàni Sutta

Pemasiri Thera: I don’t see any ignorance in the world. The Buddha, on the other hand, said that there is ignorance in the world. So, I too want to say the same, that there is ignorance. The Buddha declared that it is our ignorance avijjà – that binds us to the cycle of repeated births known as sansàra. I can say that ignorance is not knowing. But what is it that I do not know? We have to think about this. I can also say, because of ignorance, our contact with objects is useless.

David: You say our contact with objects is useless. That’s interesting, as I wouldn’t have thought that everything I do is useless. I sure hope not!

Ignorance leads to the arising of defilements, and then we suffer. For example, we don’t know the four noble truths. However, when we start to understand the four noble truths, we see our defilements when they arise, see the causes that give rise to our defilements, and then do our best to destroy these causes. Step-by-step, we overcome our ignorance, get away from our defilements, and jump across sansàra.
I’m sure you’ve heard the story of the one hundred blind men who went on a journey. They are all connected to one another, all part of one big circle with each blind man holding the hand of the man ahead and the hand of the man behind. Each blind man is in touch with his neighbor. These blind men are happy to go on this little journey and once in awhile they stop at a teashop to have a cup of tea and a piece of cake. Yes, all one hundred blind men are quite satisfied with their modest little outing. But these men aren’t actually going anywhere. All they are doing is going around in a circle the blind are leading the blind. They’re going nowhere.

In a similar scenario found in the Tittha Sutta of the Udàna collection, just for his amusement, the king of Sàvatthi rounds up a group of blind men and orders them to lay their hands on an elephant and describe it. The first blind man happens to make contact with the elephant’s trunk and tells the king, “An elephant is a great thick pole of a plough.” A second man makes contact with the head, “An elephant is a big pot.” The third collides with the front leg, “An elephant is a great pillar.” The fourth feels the tusk and cautions his fellow blind men, “Be careful. An elephant is a sharp iron rod.” Each blind man’s perception of the elephant depended upon how he managed to make contact with it.

Our perception, a rough translation for the Pali word sanna, is like a blind man’s perception. It’s as if we live out our lives in the depths of a dark forest, where it is always night time, where it rains continuously, and no light shines from the moon. It is absolutely pitch-black in our forest and we never manage to see anything. We are forever groping around in the dark hoping to make contact with an object that we think might be useful. Maybe we latch onto a rat or a snake. We don’t know what it is that we’ve latched onto because we are in the depths of a dark forest and can’t see. We think we’ve latched onto something useful until it’s brought out into the light of day. What we have isn’t useful. We just don’t see that because we never leave our dark forest and come out into the light. We don’t like the light. Or maybe it’s a view. Sometimes we latch onto various views to get across sansàra. Then after falling into views, we look for freedom from there.

Our blindness, a simile for ignorance, remains unseen because not one of us ever wants to leave the dark forest and venture into the light. For instance, I occasionally lose my temper and shout at people. Without me seeing the arising of the causes and conditions that lead to the losing of my temper, various causes and conditions arise and I lose my temper. I simply do not see the formation of the causes that lead to the losing of my temper nor do I see the shouting while I’m shouting. This is my ignorance. It is unseen. Being in ignorance and giving a talk about ignorance! What more do you want?

Is sanna memory?

Sannà is not memory. It is our understanding of the nature of the objects that we contact; it’s the nature of our experience. All of our learning is through sannà, our perception. In whatever way we understand objects that are the way we see them. As long as I have a certain perception, I hold onto that perception until I get a new one, and I am unaware of just how distorted my perception is until a clearer perception arises. If I attained arahatship, my perception of the nature of life’s experience would be radically different from my current perception of the nature of life’s experience. My understanding of the dhamma would be radically different, which means the dhamma talks I would give as an arahat would be worlds apart from the dhamma talks I currently give. Without practicing bhàvanà, we think our perception our sannà His perfectly normal; we simply accept and enjoy our defilements. We’re experiencing what we shouldn’t experience and not experiencing what we should experience. We’re happy to be with the defilements and unhappy when were without them. When we find our defilements pleasing, we hardly see the passing of the day. If you get a chance to go for a walk with a pleasant woman, you’re happy. That’s your nature, your minds inclination, and if I suggest you avoid these types of experiences, you’ll get upset.

Oh well, it’s normal for a guy to like girls.

If your ignorance could be seen, you could remove it. It’s because ignorance remains unseen that you don’t bother to remove it. You and I yes, this applies to me too are ignorant of our ignorance. Only after I’ve lost my temper do I realize that something went amiss and then I regret, “Why did I allow this to happen?” or “Why did I get angry with this person?” Only after the fact, we reflect and see our ignorance. Even when we have some understanding about the true nature of life’s experiences, know how to relate to objects wisely, we often go ahead and relate to objects unwisely. We may be well aware that we are indulging; that our actions are harmful, and yet we still behave foolishly this is the nature of ignorance, avijjà. It is in us completely.

PAST LIFE HABITS

Why does ignorance arise?

Such a good question. “Ignorance arises because of the àsavas,” said the Buddha. An àsava is generally translated as a canker or as an effluent. It’s more useful to understand àsava as a past life habit that arises in the present life. Âsavas are like the smell of whiskey that remains in the bottle after washing it. Though you scrub the bottle really well, a trace of the whiskey smells sticks to the bottle. It’s a process of hetu-phala. Because of the àsavas, there is ignorance; because of ignorance, there are the àsavas. The quality of being, of our very life, is the àsavas. Four àsavas, four habits, have been with us for such a long time many lifetimes:

1. The habit of craving for sensuality, kàmàsava
2. The habit of craving existence, bhavàsava
3. The habit of views, ditthàsava
4. The habit of ignorance, avijjàsava

Hunger, sleep, fear, and sex these four behaviors come from past lives and do not need to be taught in our present lives. No one teaches us to be hungry, to be sleepy, or to be afraid.

I heard of an experiment where a group of male rats were raised from birth through to adulthood only with other males, and a group of female rats were raised from birth through to adulthood only with other females. The males were always isolated from the females, and vice versa. When the adult males and the adult females finally met, they knew how to have sex.

I’m not surprised.

Is killing a past life habit?

Killing can be taught.

Are there beneficial àsavas?

The nature of beneficial habits is the same as the nature of harmful habits, as they are both based on ignorance and therefore bind us to sansàra. The word àsavas, however, is not used for beneficial habits. Instead, the word pàramãs is used. Âsavas always connect us with ignorance and our ignorance connects us with the kusala and the akusala. Even kusala habits, our beneficial habits, bind us to sansàra. Because a meditator established the habit of attaining jhàna in a previous life, he or she attains jhàna easily in this life. The practice of jhàna can potentially help the meditator understand ignorance and the àsavas, and then destroy the àsavas. When ignorance is destroyed, the àsavas naturally go; when the àsavas are destroyed, ignorance naturally goes. The arahat destroys the àsavas.

You said that I am not seeing my ignorance. Well, how do I go about seeing it?

Knowing your mind comes through the practice of bhàvanà. One’s own ignorance is a topic that should be reflected upon and discussed in detail. How to see ignorance? Good question. There is not one specific cause that leads to the arising of ignorance. No. Objects that arose in your past, your non-restraint when interacting with people, your views many things link together with an object that arises in the present. And when you link so many things together, you aren’t seeing the true nature of objects that you are contacting in the present. No one makes ignorance operate in this way; there is no creator of ignorance.

Not only should you, all of us be experiencing a mind without defilements. Our clinging needs to be to the kusala, to places and things that are beneficial, such as the practice of kindness and compassion. Through bhàvanà, we find that kusala place and develop our vision: we see when were going around in circles and we see objects, such as that kings elephant, in their entirety. When lightning flashes, we see our forest clearly and discover that all this time we’ve been sitting on the head of a snake! The light from the flash allows us to see this dark forest that we call home is a wildly dangerous place. It is definitely not a safe place to live. And even though our clarity of sight lasts but a few split seconds, we use this brief window of opportunity to see clearly and jump off the snakes head. Yes, we land in the midst of thorny thicket; there is nowhere else to put our feet down. All the same, we continue jumping forward. Each time lightning flashes, we see the obstacles on our path and do our best to avoid them, and then take another jump forward.

At any rate, we exist only momentarily our life span is like a lightning flash. It’s such a rare event to be a human in a period of a Buddha’s teaching; we need to make use of this opportunity to see clearly, overcome our ignorance, and jump across sansàra.

If we gain freedom from sansàra by overcoming ignorance, ignorance must be what keeps us in sansàra.

You can’t say that. Dependent upon various causes and conditions, a being arises as the effect. This is what the Buddha saw during his enlightenment. If ignorance were the first cause for our arising, we would have to fall back into ignorance each time we repeatedly arise, which means we would have no possible escape. Ignorance is not causeless. If all the interwoven causes and conditions including ignorance are eliminated, the being no longer arises.

UNDERSTANDING

Could you be a bit more practical? I am mostly interested in improving the quality of my daily life. I’m not particularly interested in learning a lot of Buddhist facts.
The Buddha also emphasized the importance of being practical, of learning how to live in the present moment. Patience. Penetrating the nature of ignorance, avijjà, is a gradual process that is comparable to penetrating a thicket of thorn-bearing bush. The thicket has hundreds of small bushes all with branches going in every direction; they’re all tangled up with each other and the sharp-pointed thorns cut our skin. It is very difficult to get through this dense thicket, even if we are wearing sturdy boots and heavy clothing and use a machete to hack our way through. No, we cannot easily penetrate it. Avijjà is like that. We can’t just get through to our ignorance and pull it out all at once. It’s a gradual process that starts from the basic level of our daily lives. When we look at our actions as well as the effects of our actions, by investigating our behavior, we see that some of our actions support our liberation and progress, while some of our actions hinder liberation and progress we see that we’re often creating our own suffering. The understanding we gain through this personal investigation guides our future actions.

Sorry, I missed what it is that I am understanding. Myself?

You are trying to understand the workings of dependent origination. Your ignorance. You’re trying to understand the nature of your actions. Are your actions helpful or harmful? Is your behavior kusala or akusala? It’s all about causes and effects. You used to be a little boy and as you grew up your understanding of the world also grew. At some point, your mother must’ve warned you “Don’t play with matches. You’ll get burned.” Though not knowing anything about matches, you probably went ahead and played with them, and burnt your fingers. It hurt. The little boy David now has some understanding about the nature of matches, which guides his future use of matches. In the same way, a good understanding of the effects of our past actions, seeing if they were beneficial or harmful, guides our future actions. We don’t try to investigate the nature of ultimate reality, comparing ourselves to arahats. No. Daily life is where we start our investigation into the workings of dependent origination. We start at a fundamental level.

Later, when sati is more fully developed, we gain supernormal knowledges, abhinnàs, we differentiate and penetrate mentality and materiality, and bring about nibbàna. Differentiating, penetrating mentality and materiality is investigation into the nature of things, the second factor of enlightenment. Materiality is the translation for the Pali term rupa. Rupa is also translated as “form”. It includes everything that is not mentality, such as physical objects, our physical bodies as well as sights, sounds, smells, and nimittas, those images gained in meditation. Rupa has the nature of deteriorating and breaking up. If something deteriorates or breaks up, it is rupa. People who differentiate mentality and materiality see things as a continuous flow of dependent origination, a river of causes, supportive circumstances, and effects. Hetu-phala. They have a good understanding of their ignorance and won’t let it rule their lives, not as much anyway. They might commit a few minor offences, but nothing horrendous, such as murder.

Evidently, the reason for all your nitpicking is to help me disengage myself from life’s experiences which appear seamless, but are not in fact seamless. Then once I’m disengaged, I’ll have a chance of picking my way through and out of the constant change, and into the extinction of suffering. I hadn’t understood that.

Moving forward from a habitual and known level of understanding is rare and difficult. For instance, a sotàpanna starts from an established known level of understanding he or she has seen nibbàna. But just because the sotàpanna has seen nibbàna does not mean that he or she can proceed easily and attain nibbàna. The ignorance is still there, but the sotàpanna doesn’t see the ignorance. On the contrary, seeing nibbàna leads the sotàpanna to mistakenly think that he or she also knows nibbàna. For example, out of studying the immaterial jhànas with Alàra Kalama, Siddhartha came to understand that even the immaterial sphere wasn’t conclusive liberation. Yet, despite such a great depth of understanding, Siddhartha still went the wrong way after leaving Alàra Kalama he did the ascetic practices and he continued to suffer. His understanding of his ignorance did not lead him to liberation. Knowing often leads to non-knowing, as is the case for many Sri Lankans who consider themselves Buddhists and that the noble eightfold path is the way. Invariably, they get stuck in the knowledge of the morality part of the eightfold path and don’t develop the wisdom part. And without wisdom, sammà-samàdhi never arises. Even the eightfold path becomes a rut for many people and they don’t move forward.

KNOWLEDGE

Knowledge always means making a choice between the beneficial and the harmful, between the kusala and akusala. There are always two sides. For example, doctors think it’s a great advancement in medicine to use the heart valves of pigs to replace the damaged heart valves of humans. The pig, however, must be slaughtered to harvest its valves. At the time of slaughtering, the knowledge of using a pig’s valve to replace a human valve arises out of ignorance. A choice is made: a human life is measured to be more valuable than a pig’s life. In Sri Lanka, mosquitoes carry diseases, such as Dengue Fever and Malaria. If government authorities spray the swamps with DDT, millions of mosquitoes die; if they don’t spray, many humans die.

That’s clear enough!

Knowledge gives rise to choice. Is it okay to kill mosquitoes for the benefit of humans, and not okay to kill humans? The government skews information towards the benefits to humans and they don’t mention all the killing of mosquitoes. The government could reduce the incidence of Dengue Fever and Malaria by promoting safety and hygiene, such as removing stagnant water where the mosquitoes breed. Nuclear technology can be used to generate electricity, or to arm a warhead. Again, out of knowledge, ignorance arises and a choice is made. The West is absorbed in the development of knowledge of this sense-sphere plane and it’s not all harmful. Advancements in technology healthcare, engineering, computers benefit society in countless ways. Knowledge also applies to the jhànas. They are attained through the use of knowledge, not through the use of wisdom. Knowledge is not wisdom, as wisdom doesn’t require making a choice and there is no harmful side.

Perhaps, I’m better off without knowledge? You make it sound like it’s a nuisance.

No. We can’t live without knowledge. It’s needed to grow our little seed into a big tree that bears the fruit of wisdom. We develop knowledge towards wisdom. That’s the goal. Oppenheimer was the father of the hydrogen bomb. If he had focused his attention on the development of wisdom instead of developing his knowledge of nuclear physics, he might have been an arahat. Oppenheimer said, “If I had spent all my time and energy learning the teachings of the Buddha, I would have been of more benefit to society.” Knowledge is used to live in this world and it binds us to sansàra. Wisdom is used to leave this world. Apart from dependent origination, it is impossible to talk about any dhamma, any idea or phenomenon. The whole of the Buddha’s teaching is about dependent origination. There is nothing either material or immaterial that falls outside this teaching, except the attainment of nibbàna. Nibbàna is the unconditioned. Now, do you realize this? Are you grasping that our whole nature of being is nothing more than dependently originated phenomena?

I’m trying.

The foremost example of dependent origination is the bodhisatta Siddhàrtha Gautama’s night of enlightenment. Through all three watches, Siddhartha meditated on nothing else but the workings of dependent origination. In the first watch, he looked at his past births. In the second watch, he looked at the births of other beings. He saw that those beings who performed harmful actions in one birth took a later birth in a more woeful state; whereas, those beings who performed wholesome and beneficial actions in one birth took a following birth in a more happy state. Then finally, on the third watch, Siddhartha looked on a microscopic level at the dependent origination of what is called self. You’ll find the basic formula for the origination of self in the Mahànidàna Sutta of the Digha Nikàya.
Through a deep understanding of dependent origination, Siddhartha was able to approach enlightenment and then by fully realizing the noble truth of dependent origination, he attained enlightenment and became the Buddha. A full realization of dependent origination is equivalent to enlightenment. In the verses of joy of the Dhammapada, the Buddha declares, “Through many a birth I wandered in sansàra, looking for the builder of this house. When I found the builder, I told him, ‘You won’t be building any more houses for me. I’ve broken the rafters of the house and attained the end of suffering.” And us? Finding the builder of our house, we pick up a hammer and start helping! The Buddha taught the process of dependent origination in various ways, sometimes in just a few words. “There must be in what is seen, just the seen,” he said to the ascetic Bàhiya, “In the heard, just the heard; and in the experienced, just the experience.”

Wasn’t it Bàhiya who begged the Buddha for a teaching?

Yes, then the Buddha told Bàhiya, “It’s an unsuitable time to teach you.” Bàhiya was insistent. He again begged the Buddha for a teaching because he had a huge amount of faith in the Buddha. Despite Bahia’s insistence, the Buddha still delayed in giving a teaching, as he wanted to reduce Bahia’s intensity of faith and balance it out with wisdom. Bahia’s faith was covering up his wisdom; he saw the Buddha different from other objects he saw the Buddha as great and most other objects as minor. The Buddha needed to bring Bàhiya around to seeing that all conditioned objects are exactly the same, that truth is in every single object. Whatever arises also dies. Eventually, when the time was right, the Buddha gave Bàhiya a brief teaching about dependent origination, “For seeing to arise, there must be some object that causes seeing to arise.” A concise teaching. Without a visible object of form, seeing cannot arise. There is seeing and there is a cause for the origination of seeing. The cause is an object and the effect is seeing.

What about your insistence on supportive conditions?

There are numerous supportive conditions at work. However, I’m trying to get this one point across to you, that the concept of a self is separate from the object perceived. Clearly, without objects contacting the senses, there is no self. Is the self in your eye? Is it in your ear? Nose? Tongue? Mind? Where are you? Where were you? And if you weren’t there in the past, you cannot be here now. And if you aren’t here now, you won’t be here in the future. There are no problems when you realize that you don’t have a self. What’s the problem? To Bàhiya, the Buddha said, “See what is actually happening, bhava-sati.” Most people say that the Buddha told Bàhiya, “Stop mental proliferation at what is merely seen.” This is incorrect. He didn’t say to stop mental proliferation, stop the mental formations. The Buddha said, “See what is happening.”

I can’t stop my thoughts

The objects of your senses are too important to you. I once told you of the direct teaching the Buddha gave to Commander Santati who was grieving the death of a beautiful dancer. “Drop the present,” said the Buddha to Santati. “Drop thinking about the past, drop thinking about the future, and do not cling to anything in this very moment.” Immediately understanding the Buddha’s teaching, Santati dropped grieving, dropped creating mental formations about the future, and gained insight. The death of the dancer was a past cause. It was already finished. Santali’s sadness was the effect. Sadness being a hindrance to equanimity, the Buddha told Santati to let go of it. Stop grieving. Drop it. If Santati had held onto his grief, if he had created further causes and conditions, he would have continued to suffer.

I thought meditation meant being in the present?

The present does not exist. There are only causes that lead to the arising of effects. Effects are continually arising, and then they are mixed with many other effects, which are the causes for yet more effects, what we call the future. If you drop thinking about the past and drop thinking about the future, you get nothing. In the middle there is only craving, and it is this craving that stitches the past to the future. The day we see there is no present will be another very good day.

Can the future be a cause?

Your idea of the future is taking place in the present. The future cannot be a cause because it has not yet arisen. What if we die now? How can there be an effect? And if the future could be a cause, there would be no way out. The arahat wouldn’t have any freedom.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------