Is
Buddhism about getting rid of desire? But then, wouldn’t
an inclination to get rid of desire itself be a desire?
And there does seem to be an emphasis in the scriptures
on applying effort to develop moral conduct rather than
following instinctual urges, meditating rather than not
meditating, and to awakening rather than remaining
confused and reactive. Seeking spiritual transformation
is desire, too, isn’t it?
To unravel this paradox, it helps to understand that the
English word desire is a translation for either of two
Pali words: tanha or chanda. These Pali words refer to
different experiences. Tanha literally means “thirst”.
Tanha is a reflex, an instinct - the urge to grab and
consume. Chanda has a broader meaning: I prefer
“motivation.” Chanda can refer to sense-appetites but
also to the interest in Dhamma.
It is the experienced of focusing one’s intent in a
certain direction. The clear difference between chanda
and tanha is that chanda is not a reflex, not an
instinct and not a compulsion; it is a choice. And the
main theme of Dhamma practice is to make the choices
that undercut the power of instinct and compulsion.
That’s what it means to be free, to wake up.
In the process of practice, motivation has to be
sustained through a range of skills, techniques and
strategies (even “hanging loose” for a while to lessen
the compulsiveness of willpower) until the compulsions
to gain and hold on are quelled. So the overriding
motivation is to let go of, or to renounce, tanha
(thirst). When we’ve cultivated the supports that make
letting go possible, there’s no further need for chanda
(motivation), and the mind can come to rest.
Naturally, this isn’t that easy. And to make matters
worse, the words renounce and renunciation usually send
chills down people’s spines, even though renunciation,
along with kindness and compassion, is one of the three
wholesome inclinations that the Buddha developed for his
own awakening. You might ask, what’s wrong with
quenching my thirsts for wholesome things - for
beautiful music, sunshine, my true love? Maybe for you,
listening to Mazart is a guaranteed high; a sunny day on
the beach is really a lot of fun; and you have a strong
and trusting relationship with your partner - your life
feels fulfilled. But what happens if you lose your
hearing, or the sun doesn’t shine, or your partner dies?
And think again: what would it be like if you lost your
job and couldn’t pay the rent or afford to run your car?
Is there a guarantee that it won’t happen?
The truth is we feel good at times because we give
inadequate attention to what life entails, or to how
fulfilling in the long run our happy hours and place in
the sun really are. The Buddha saw that too. The desire
that grabs and consumes can never provide us with enough
of the feel - good factor, or for long enough; and when
we don’t know how to switch off the program, we’ll
always want more. When the millionaire Rockefeller was
asked. “How much money is enough?” his reply was, “Just
a little more.” So there’s an ongoing restlessness and
insecurity under the surface of all the good that wealth
and fame can bring.
Even though such self interested desire may not
completely fulfil us or may lead to suffering, it is
difficult to come out of the trance of tanha. So the
Buddha’s strategy is to appeal to our self-interest in a
different way. What is really going to make us feel
good? Where does our security truly lie? The Buddha
poses those questions in terms of peace of mind. His
advice is first to find peace of mind through skilful
action, or “bright khamma.” Working from the premise of
doing unto others as we’d like them to do unto us
increases cooperation and goodwill and leads to our own
happiness and security. Acting skilfully with wise
reflection and kindness makes our mind feel bright.
Inner well-being comes from being honest and sensitive
and from curtailing self-interest. We live free from
regrets and feel larger and more fluent than “little
me.” When we see things in the light of bright kamma, we
don’t want to live addicted to creature comforts. We
don’t want the kind of security that puts us in conflict
with our neighbours or leaves us to foot the bill for
security guards, weapons and armies. We begin to
question our thirsts.
Once we see these benefits of skilful external action,
the Buddha then advises “internal action” through
meditation, or more broadly, the cultivation of the
mind. Mind in the Buddhist sense means more than the
intellect or rationality; it also encompasses what we
mean in English by heart, spirit, sensitivity or
awareness.
This is the core of what we feel ourselves to be, so
when we cultivate the mind, we get straight to the
point, and the value of acting on our instinctual urges
decline. In fact, it becomes a second rate substitute
for the more direct approach of gladdening, brightening,
easing and releasing the mind through cultivation, where
we find a more reliable source of happiness.
Consider the rapture and bliss of deep meditative
estates, or the mind states of all-pervading
benevolence, compassion, appreciative joy and serenity
to which a cultivator may gain access. Above all, a mind
that is agile, alert, empathic and made deep by
contemplative work is a joy in itself and a blessing to
others.
So the overall Dhamma prescription is to get free from
desire through actually fulfilling it. This means first
getting fulfilment through living in a balanced and
skilful way, then through deepening the mind with
meditation. In terms of meditation, what is known as
concentration (samadhi) has three fulfilling aspects:
clarity through an undivided and sensitive attention,
happiness through the qualities of uplift and ease, and
peace through the stillness of one-pointedness. Things
don’t get better than this. And from this basis, the
mind is able to sense that the pulls and flares of sense
desire are actually disagreeably rough. In fact, even
the hankering to hang on to the state of concentration
adds a tightness and pressure to the experience. So
there is the arising of insight-wisdom. With insight,
those programs of the mind that equate fulfilment with
flushes of feeling, or security with holding on, can be
seen as a stressful waste of energy.
This insight undermines the “more is better” program and
its transformative effect feeds back into both our daily
life and to the well-being of the world as a whole.
That’s pretty good theme to be motivated by. And from
this basis of confidence in letting go, the mind can
move out of the trance of tanha, and even away from the
need further motivation, chanda. This is because the
more that this insightful abiding is developed, the more
we trust the inner weightlessness that it reveals. In
the same way that perfect balance is detectable by the
absence of pressures, constriction and leaning, so the
fruition of insight it just this “unsupported” peace and
steadiness. Further motivation would just upset the
balance. In a delightful paradox, this mind is then
secure just because it is not leaning on some idea,
feeling, mood, self-image or strategy. It is fulfilled
in the security that there is nothing else to get and
gain. It is simply free from all bonds.
(Ajahn Sucitto was born in London and was ordained a
bhikkhu in Thailand in 1976. Since 1978 he has been
based in Britain and is currently abbot of Cittaviveka
Monastery in Chithurst, West Sussex. (Courtesy-Inquiring
Mind)
අමාවක
පුර අටවක
පසෙලාස්වක
අව
අටවක