Sayadaw Tejaniya

Yogi: I have a problem with my family members. My friend told me to forget about that problem and let it go. It’s easy to say "let it go," but in reality, it’s difficult.

Sayadaw: Letting go isn't easy for you, so you need to practice mental exercises or engage in activities. When the mind is occupied with mental exercise, it naturally forgets to think about the problem. That’s why we stay aware all the time to keep the mind occupied. When the mind keeps being aware of the present moment, it cannot think too much.

When thoughts arise, don’t follow them or get caught in the storyline. Just acknowledge that the mind is thinking, then direct your awareness back to bodily sensations. You can’t stop thoughts from appearing, but you can stop yourself from continuing the thinking. Avoid exaggerating the storyline. This is why we cultivate awareness – when you’re fully aware, there’s no room for thinking.

Yogi: Every time I think about that person, anger comes up.

Sayadaw: Since anger arises when you think of them, make the anger itself the object to be aware of, to observe. Watch the anger each time it comes – don’t pay attention to the person or the past or the storyline. Just observe the feeling. Also, ask yourself why the mind reacts with anger. This reflection helps you see the nature of anger clearly.

Change the attitude. Change the idea. The mind will forget to think about this object (i.e., the "person" or the storyline). Firstly, take care of the suffering. When you truly understand anger, it can no longer overwhelm you.

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*Transcriber's Summary:

This summary is central to working with defilements like anger, and it involves a direct shift in our approach, building on Sayadaw's initial guidance:

1. Straighten the wrong attitude, straighten the wrong view/idea:

1a. Shift Attention: Instead of giving attention to the external source of irritation (e.g., the "someone" or the storyline).

1b. Turn Inward: Come closer to the internal experience of suffering itself – the anger arising within your own mind.

2. Keep the Mind Occupied with Consistent Awareness: As Sayadaw explains, when the mind is engaged in mental exercise or stays aware of the present moment, it naturally becomes less absorbed in problematic thoughts. This consistent awareness keeps the mind from thinking "too much."

3. Investigate Directly: As you observe this internal object, you can question and learn why the mind reacts with anger in that specific situation.

4. Right Attitude, Right View/Idea, Right Learning: This internal suffering becomes the proper object for meditation and direct observation. This approach leads to genuine insight and freedom from its overwhelming nature.

Sayadaw: Yesterday, before exercising, I did sitting meditation. After meditating, I did my physical workout. Throughout the physical exercise, my stability of mind (samādhi) didn't decrease. The body got tired, yes, but the mind remained calm and steady – I just kept observing that stability of mind. I wasn't focusing on the physical movements, yet I was fully aware of them. Why? Because the mind's attention was anchored in that stable, meditative state. The physical movements were just happening on their own. There's no need to over-analyze them. If I shifted mindfulness to the body, the mind would wander. The mind's stability is what matters most. So I maintained that unwavering stability while exercising.

Yogi: For me, when I get tired, the mind starts to waver.

Sayadaw: Even when tired, it's possible to be tired peacefully. I was peacefully exhausted. The body tires ("huffing and puffing"), but the mind stays calm.

Yogi: Is this because of the stability of mind (samādhi) or wisdom?

Sayadaw: The stability of mind persists when the mind continuously observes it. It only breaks when mental cravings arise. Here, there's no craving – no urge to finish the exercise section or achieve something. The mind is just doing it. That's why the stability of mind deepens. When craving arises, stability of mind breaks. Tiredness itself isn't the problem.

Yogi: So you're aware of the awareness mind and stability of mind while also watching the nature of tiredness on the other side?

Sayadaw: Tiredness is already known. When mindfulness+wisdom is strong, the mind is already aware of everything clearly. No need to deliberately focus on tiredness – it's obvious. Mindfulness+wisdom prioritizes and maintains the calm, stable mind as its essential anchor, and everything else falls into place naturally.

Yogi: According to this, what I understand is Sayadaw keeps going with non-self (anattā) wisdom most of the time. Also, an understanding of tiredness "as it is" is present. With this non-self (anattā) wisdom, the mind faces every situation calmly. We don't have that kind of wisdom, so we are often defeated.

Sayadaw: When death approaches, the body will struggle – gasping, fighting. Most people panic, and then unpleasant mental feeling (domanassa) comes up. But if equanimity (upekkhā) is happening, even in that final moment, the mind can remain calm. Even while gasping, one can maintain stability of mind.

Let me give examples: My teacher, Shwe Oo Min Sayadawgyi, when dying, his body kept jerking up and down, gasping. Sayadawgyi was in a coma, yet his body moved. Then suddenly his consciousness returned briefly – eyelids fluttering – we thought he was recovering, but then he passed peacefully. And my father, when his time came, was also gasping. But his mind still had consciousness. At the final moment, he suddenly raised his hands in anjali (prayer gesture) to me. He recognized me as a monk and also knew me as his son. I am glad that I had a chance to make him peaceful before he passed away.

We will also face this one day. Even with the body gasping, we can practice now to keep the mind peaceful through the right attitude.

Yogi: You're describing seeing all this as "not me, not mine" (non-self (anattā) wisdom)?

Sayadaw: Yes. This wisdom is gold. If you live as a Buddhist and don't realize non-self (anattā), it's not worth it.

Yogi: So mental stability comes from non-self (anattā)?

Sayadaw: Absolutely. It's deeper – understanding causes and effects. These phenomena arise and pass on their own. They're not "you."

Yogi: But can't someone have stability of mind without this wisdom?

Sayadaw: Many do! They keep very calm with concentration, but still get angry. Strong concentration can exaggerate defilements. Because concentration (samādhi) also does an exaggerated (amplified) job.

Yogi: Non-self (anattā) wisdom has levels? Just intellectual understanding isn't enough?

Sayadaw: Correct. You must cultivate it daily – like mindfulness. At first, you repeatedly remind yourself. Later, it becomes automatic. When mindfulness arises, wisdom should already be there – no need to force it. That's why I ask yogis: "Are you still reminding yourself to have the right attitude, or is it already natural?" If you're still struggling to recall it, the wisdom isn't strong enough.

Knowing the reason why the mind cannot accept a situation is better than just trying to accept it. Many yogis often say, “I'm trying to accept this, trying to accept that.” Why do you do this so much? This method is for beginners who don't have much meditation experience. They don't know the mind, so they only know how to "try to accept." That's okay for them.

But if you are a long-time meditator and know how to watch the mind—if you can know whatever is happening in the mind, including the defilements—then you should try to know about them. When you are "trying to accept," it means you can't accept. The mind does not accept the condition, so you are forcing it to. This is not the most effective method.

If you see resistance, simply watch that resistance. It's that simple. Then the resistance will become zero. The unacceptable state of mind will be gone. When true acceptance comes, the mind's quality will change a lot. That is the better way.

Many yogis continue to follow the instructions they received at the beginning of their practice. They try to accept, try to accept, and the mind seems to calm down. But at the unconscious level, the mind is not calm. When you watch the mind's resistance and that resistance is gone, the mind's quality immediately changes right-side up. The right attitude and wisdom will also come.

That is the better way, so don't try to accept too much. Instead, try to watch why the mind is not accepting. That method is more realistic. With this method, the mind will make real changes. Otherwise, it can only accept at a surface level.

Just because nothing has happened yet and the mind feels good doesn’t mean your meditation is really going well. If the mind feels good just because many things are going smoothly in life, that’s also not the real thing. There’s a saying, “The defilements you haven’t faced are at peace on their own.” In other words, things are fine simply because nothing has happened yet. Because nothing bad has happened yet, you are living comfortably by nature, with no need to put in any effort, and even no need to practice. And then the mind takes that state as the truth.

For many of us, most things are going well; life is going as we like. Yet even so, we still feel like complaining about the tiniest inconveniences.

Look at a nun who has cancer and is in constant pain. She is in pain all the time, truly experiencing suffering almost every moment. She can no longer avoid it – she has to accept it. By nature, when the mind truly encounters something and endures it for a long time, it eventually accepts it. But we don’t see her constantly complaining.

It makes me think – when our own time draws near to death, we will be in constant pain too. To be at peace at that time, we must have already trained ourselves, starting now. We must have encountered much hardship. If we only ever experience good times, then when misfortune strikes, we’ll end up crying out.

The point is: we must stay aware, stay awake. Even when nothing is happening, we must know, remain aware, and stay alert. The fact that nothing bad is happening is not the ultimate truth; it’s not reality as it truly is. When nothing bad is happening, we must still be awake and mindful. If we can truly remain in equanimity during peaceful times, then when hardships come, we will also be able to remain in equanimity. But if, during good times, we are not in equanimity and lack wisdom – drifting along in delusion and forgetfulness – then certainly, when the bad times come, we will suffer.

I have been reflecting on this when I look at sick people. The other day, I saw an old lay yogi who was seriously ill. Her face still looked bright. Her body was almost completely weakened, clearly in a very difficult condition, yet she was still able to bear it with calmness. In such a state, to be able to live as she was – that’s admirable.

As for us, when we are still healthy, having a steady (samādhi) and peaceful mind is not something especially remarkable. We need to think about that truthfully. In good times, we should not live with delusion; we must stay alert and mindful, remaining on the middle path. If we don’t do that, we will surely swing over to the pleasant side. Why is it that people who have been living well for a long time fall apart when they start to experience hardship? Because they enjoyed that pleasant moment with delusion (moha).

Sometimes in the morning, upon waking from a deep sleep, the body feels well and even the blood pressure is normal. In those moments, the mind feels pleasant and cheerful. But wisdom does not accept that as “true well-being.” Sometimes the mind even says, “This feels so good,” just like when we were young and would exclaim, “So nice! So great!”

We should not live at either extreme – stay in the middle. No matter how well things are going, return to the middle. Be aware, and remain there. This pleasant state is just a condition; it’s not something to cling to, and it cannot be labelled as “good.” It’s simply the result of various causes coming together. If we live with that understanding, we will incline more toward equanimity and not drift toward extremes.

Even without facing severe hardships, we may still be healthy and living comfortably. In such times, the mind may not be overly restless; stability of mind (samādhi) may be strong, and the mind may seem peaceful. But that is not the truth.

Sayadaw: Last night in my dream, my mobile phone got lost and problems arose in the mind. At first, the mind became agitated and suffered quite a bit. Then the mind started applying Dhamma to calm itself down. Even in the dream, the mind began accepting the situation. When the phone was lost, the mind thought "What can I do now?" and started considering necessary steps. Even in the dream, it refused to mentally suffer – thinking about resetting accounts and handling necessary tasks. Though physically asleep, the mind wasn't resting.

Yogi: Is it because the mind has formed its own habitual pattern, a behavioural routine?

Sayadaw: Yes. The mind has developed a pattern of maintaining happiness and automatically works to restore peace. It avoids creating suffering. These mental patterns are actually quite funny. Observe anyone – everyone has their own habitual patterns.

There's one yogi who tends to worry excessively. When it rains in her town, since landslides sometimes occur, she becomes so anxious at night that she can't sleep. I'm amazed how her unsettled mind prevents sleep. Most meditators fall asleep quickly after preparing for bed, but people who worry keep worrying.

In her town, there are indeed landslide-prone areas, but the places she worries about are completely different locations, very far away. Where she lives, landslides are quite unlikely. Even if it happened, what could be done? Just accept it. But why such extreme anxiety over such remote possibilities? This is her habitual pattern. With such a tendency to worry, she constantly anticipates problems. We must transform these old patterns rather than accept them.

The yogi should observe the worrying mind. When the worry disappears, right understanding will arise. This is how meditators work. We must practice this way. By consistently noting these old patterns instead of accepting them, the mind will transform, and ideas will change. Gradually, this practice of observation itself becomes the new pattern: "When something happens, observe it with the right attitude, the mind changes, perspectives shift" – we must reach this stage.

Most people are just aware of it – the emotion disappeared – and stop at that superficial level. They don't investigate whether their fundamental ideas have actually changed. If ideas truly transform, the habitual patterns will gradually change too.

Everyone has patterns – angry people habitually get angry, greedy people habitually crave.

Yogi: One day, while listening to a Dhamma talk, I was also meditating. I was aware of hearing, aware of bodily sensations, and aware of thoughts. While observing these objects of awareness, I became more focused on the act of hearing. As I concentrated on the sounds, knowing their pitch and volume, I lost track of time. When I regained mindfulness, I realized I hadn't understood the Dhamma talk at all.

Sayadaw: How could you understand? Your mind had focused on another object.

Yogi: When this happens, I feel like I'm doing something wrong in my practice. Yet I'm clearly knowing many details.

Sayadaw: You're not wrong. This is how it should be in this situation. When the mind focuses intensely on one thing, others fade away. If you focus too much on the objects of listening, you'll only hear sounds without comprehending their meaning. You've become overly absorbed in the details of the object. It's not a mistake – this is natural. If you want to understand the Dhamma while listening, you must balance awareness. If you fixate on one aspect, you'll lose the whole. When you don't abide in the knowing mind but get caught in the object, the other side slips away.

Yogi: But isn't it correct to be aware of both?

Sayadaw: You can know both. Ask yourself: What do you truly want at that moment? If you wish to be aware of both, you can't focus too intensely. You must return to the knowing mind. If you stay with the knowing mind, you won't get lost in the object.

Yogi: I've been thinking – for example, if I see a snake and focus only on the act of seeing without recognizing its danger, I could suffer harm. The same happens while driving: when I focus too much on visual details, I struggle to decide which lane to take.

Sayadaw: Exactly. With any sense door, over-focusing on one object dims the others.

Yogi: I have a friend who is suffering from severe pain due to illness. He has cancer, and the disease has already spread to his bones. His condition is quite serious, so even slight movements cause him intense pain. He's using various oral medications and topical ointments to relieve the pain. Since he has never practiced meditation before, what would be the best way to advise him?

Sayadaw: Regarding his pain, you could help him develop the correct understanding. Explain to him that the pain is not "me" or "mine" – it's just pain itself. The pain is merely pain – there is no "I" in it. If he takes it personally as "my pain," it will hurt much more and become worse. You could explain this from different perspectives to help him understand.

For example:

* The pain wasn't there originally – it only appears when he moves.

* You can explain its changing nature – how the pain isn't constant but keeps increasing and decreasing.

* You can also explain it as an effect arising from causes.

The pain isn't personal. If he understands this truth, he'll find relief. If he keeps thinking "this is me" suffering, he'll just keep crying out in pain constantly. But if he applies wisdom while experiencing pain, understanding it’s not "his," he'll find relief. This method can bring relief quickly.

If he truly understands with wisdom that there is no "I" – if he really comprehends this – he'll find significant relief. Right now, he's thinking "I'm in pain," "I'm the one suffering," and keeps dwelling on it that way.

Sayadaw: There are so many experiences we encounter day after day. We mostly react to everything we see, hear, smell, taste and touch with greed (lobha) and aversion (dosa). That is why the five sense objects are called the five strands of sensual pleasure (kāmaguṇa). If delusion (moha) is not present, then those five sense objects become mere objects of observation. They become dhamma objects (dhammārammaṇa).

If you include the mind, there are six sense objects. These six sense objects are arising all day long. The fact that they are arising is neither good nor bad. If there is pushing and pulling on them, then the mind is not truly knowing. If it's good and you like it, you pull it in; if it's bad and you don't like it, you will push it away. When the five sense objects are no longer the five strands of sensual pleasure but have become dhamma objects, only then will one begin to become disenchanted with these things. Only when they become dhamma objects will the characteristics of impermanence (anicca), suffering (dukkha), and non-self (anattā) become apparent. Only then will one reach the stage of dispassion.

What's happening now is that we are watching with awareness every day. In a moment, thinking "this smell is nice," we take in that smell; thinking "this taste is good," we take that in; with tactile contact, thinking "this texture is good," we end up liking it.

Right now, in my room, there is a shawl. Every time I touch it, a mind of liking arises. Its texture is very soft. Knowing this is not because I am forcefully aware of it. Every time I touch it, I know it. And I also know that the mind is liking it. I also know that the softness of the shawl and the liking are two separate things. Every day, whenever the five sense objects impinge, if there is no wisdom (paññā), then greed and aversion are strong. Even when looking with wisdom, the likes and dislikes are happening in many tiny ways.

Only when these likes and dislikes are no longer present will there be true peace. To put it in grand terms, only when mind-matter (nāma-rūpa) cease to arise will there be peace. There is a disenchantment with these mind-matter (nāma-rūpa) happenings. This "disenchantment" is not a disliking with aversion (dosa) – it's seeing the defilements (kilesa) as not beneficial. If you practice that intensely, you will become free. The path is very clear, anyway.

The acts of seeing, hearing, smelling, tasting, and touching are impinging on the sense doors every day. We don't have to intentionally and deliberately chase after them to be aware of them. It's just knowing, merely knowing, and being aware of them. As mentioned before, the softness and the liking are happening by themselves. We are just knowing them, just being aware. That's why I often tell yogis that practicing Dhamma is not about doing something extremely strenuous. If the faculty of knowing is maintained and gains momentum over time, wisdom will come. For beginners, it's a bit different. For them, the wisdom is not very strong. You have to stir the wisdom a little bit, you see. You have to develop investigation-of-dhamma (dhammavicaya) a little. Later, when it becomes stronger and gains momentum, it's no longer necessary. Just know more; it will improve by itself. Just know the nature of the Dhamma (dhammasabhāva) more; you don't need to do anything else.

I realize that to gain understanding, for wisdom to arise, you don't need to forcefully chase after it. With that shawl I mentioned, every time I touch it, that mental state of liking arises. It is pleased with its texture. Whenever I think about it, it appears. Don't try to prevent it from happening. Instead of running around trying to prevent it from happening, just know it as it is. Only then will you understand more deeply. If you try to prevent it, if you suppress it, it's like you are blocking the wisdom. Then you won't understand. There is a taste in just going along suitably with how it's happening, knowing it, and then understanding dawning. The moment you turn your thoughts towards the Dhamma, the wisdom starts working. You just need to arouse the right thought (sammāsaṅkappa). If you recall it, the work of Dhamma practice happens by itself. Sometimes, of course, you forget. When mindfulness returns and you turn your thoughts back to the Dhamma, the Dhamma practice will happen by itself again. That’s why the saying goes: "If you don't do what is good, you will do what is bad; if you don't do what is bad, you will do what is good."

If delusion (moha) is present, then the five sense objects are the five strands of sensual pleasure. For the ordinary mind of a common worldling (puthujjana), the five sense objects are merely the five strands of sensual pleasure.

Sayadaw: The mind's reaction to death at the moment of dying is quite different from its reaction during ordinary times. When the time of death is near, even one day is not like another. The thought "I will die now" is not the same as the thought "I will die in two days."

I was thinking yesterday about why people become distressed when they are about to die. When I first got cancer, I experienced the same thing. When the cancer began, my mind became a little distressed. Thoughts like, "I have cancer. I can die, I will die. I've received my ticket to die." When that happened, my mind became a little sad. Every time I think back, I can recall the mind that existed at that time.

The reason people become distressed when they are about to die is that they assume they will live for a long time. Because they can no longer live as long as they thought, the mind that still wants to live becomes distressed. Furthermore, the ordinary mind of most people thinks, "They won't die yet; it's still far off for them to die." That kind of thinking is quite prominent. Only when they are faced with the reality of death at the final moment do they go "Hah!" in shock.

Yogi: This kind of desire to live for a long time and not wanting to die happens not only for oneself but also for others. Last week, my father had a sore tongue. This has been going on for a while, and it hasn't gotten better. Since my father chews betel nut a lot, the thought "Is it tongue cancer?" suddenly struck my mind. It's not just that I myself want to keep living; I also have these feelings that I want other people to keep living.

Tongue cancer is worse than other types of cancer – so that whole morning the mind was really frustrated with it. I had always assumed my father would always be there, so when something like this happens, it really affects the mind. While I was thinking about how to resolve this state of mental unhappiness, the thought came: "Everyone has to die anyway. All we can do is what needs to be done." Then the mind became considerably relieved.

Sayadaw: Yes. You will only find relief if you can use your wisdom to consider things logically and see cause and effect. It's not just that you yourself want to keep living; you also want the people you love to remain, you think they will always be there, you hope for it, right? Dying is not actually strange. We die every night. Falling asleep is the same as dying. We just haven't died completely yet, so we wake up again.

When I was teaching Dhamma in America, a married couple who were Dhamma teachers came to ask me something. Previously, the husband had a heart attack and had to go into the operating room for surgery. Before entering the room, he knew that if he had the surgery, his chance of survival was only 50% – he might die, or he might survive. He decided, "If I die, I die," and made up his mind. He was no longer afraid of dying. After the surgery, he came out fine and continued living. 

So the husband and wife went home. After quite some time had passed, they thought that the mind which was not afraid of death was permanently present, and that they had permanently acquired this courage. Then, one day, he had another heart attack, just like before. This time, however, their minds were afraid of death. They came to ask me about this. They didn't understand why they weren't afraid the first time but were afraid the second time. They wondered why the fear had returned.

The first time, because death was possible, he decided "I will die" and settled with that. When he didn't die and came back to life, the mind thought, "I will live," and it returned to its former state. Since he was still alive, he became complacent and satisfied, thinking he could continue living in his present state. When he came back to life, he became attached again to that life of craving and enjoyment. So the mind returned to its former state. That's why he was afraid the second time.

Sayadaw: When I was practicing in my daily life, there were people who stole clothes at the market. At our shop, it was impossible to steal. If someone came to steal, we always caught them.

Once there was a woman who came to buy things at the shop during the quiet hours. At such a time, business was slow and shop owners were very eager to sell. She came to buy 10 small-sized clothes. After having an invoice written, she then said she did not want the small-sized clothes anymore and wanted to buy a large-sized one instead, asking to have the invoice re-issued. Then, she showed the invoice previously written for the small-sized clothes and the new invoice written for the large-sized one; and only paid the small difference in money. She had not paid any money up to that point, and just paid the difference amount based on the changed sizes.

I knew what she had done. Why? Because the mind always knew whenever the cash drawer was opened. Every time money was put in or taken out, the drawer must be opened. In this case, since she arrived, the cash drawer had absolutely not been opened yet. I was very sure. I immediately knew she was coming to cheat. So, when I said she hadn't paid yet, she realized she couldn't cheat anymore and left the shop without buying anything.

She didn't give up on this. She came again another day. This time, it was a very busy time. The shop was chaotic with lots of customers coming to shop and work piling up. Right when she arrived, I didn't see her yet. 

This time, what she did was she first went to the corner of the shop. In that corner spot, clothes were piled on the floor. On top of that pile, there were bundles of clothes tied together with a string. You can't just pull them away. They were intentionally tied like that so that if you pulled them to take them away, the theft would be very obvious. If you pulled it and left, the neighbouring shops would also see. She was also quite clever. She brought a bundle of clothes from that pile right in front of me and said, "I just bought this earlier, but the colour is the same [as something I have], so I came back to exchange it," and started to lie. I knew where the pack of clothes she brought came from. Why? Because every day at opening time, when we arranged the clothes, I would do it mindfully, so the mind remembered exactly which item was where. Fearing she might grab the pack from her hand and run, I first took it back from her with the pretence of giving an exchange. And then I asked, "Is that pack from the lower spot in that corner?" As soon as she realized her trick was caught, she just ran away.

Over time, because our shop didn't lose items like other shops, the owner of the shop next door even came and asked, "What kind of lucky charm do you have at your shop to prevent items from getting lost?" The truth is, because I am mindful of everything – taking money, storing it, placing items, giving items – everything goes smoothly. Even if someone talks to me while I'm counting money, I remember how much I've already counted and reply to them. After the conversation, I just continued counting from where I remembered. I don't need to start counting all over again from the beginning like before. I was very sure; I never made a mistake. The concentration is good, and the memory is also very good. I quite like myself being like this.

Before, if a customer came and asked if an item was available, I could not be sure. I also wouldn't be sure where I had placed it. Now, when they ask, I immediately open the invoice and just sell, knowing how many are available and the price. The knowledge in my mind is clear; I'm sure about everything.

If delusion (moha) is strong, you can't be like this. During times when you are dull, heavy, and lethargic, the mind doesn't know things clearly; it's not sure. That's why people in the market, during times when no customers come, during idle times, tend to just chatter away. And then when customers finally come in, they are bewildered, not knowing what to do to make the sale. If you dwell with strong delusion (moha), you are not prepared; you cannot immediately switch the mind back to mindfulness, back to the side of concentration. The mind, which was just chattering away with sloth and nonsense, becomes unsettled when a customer arrives, and you can't concentrate properly anymore. The mind is no longer calm and peaceful either.

The quality of the mind is very important when working. If the mind is clear, what Venerable U Jotika said, "Everything went into place," is truly correct. The meaning is that everything falls into its own place, fitting perfectly. The mind knows its limits. When things like "What should I do?", "How much should I do?" and "How should I do it?" are clear. Life becomes very smooth.

Furthermore, if you are aware that wisdom is working, you have a lot of confidence. In life, if wisdom is leading and working, you will become satisfied with your own life. You are doing what should be done; the things happening are very meaningful. A life living with awareness and wisdom is so much different from living with a strong delusion (moha). In everything you do and say, wisdom is present. And if you are aware of that wisdom, then your life becomes a very meaningful life.

The problem in people's lives is that they are not satisfied with themselves. Many people lack self-satisfaction. A true meditator, however, is very satisfied. I have complete satisfaction with my own life. I am doing all the things that should be done. I am saying the things that should be said. If you can notice again that you are working with wisdom, you get true satisfaction. Life has meaning and purpose. Most people, due to defilements, fail to do what they should and end up doing what they shouldn't, and then have regrets. That's all that happens. In human life, having self-satisfaction is very important.

When you don't see anything as a problem, everything will work out. If you stop looking for problems in what is happening, then it becomes okay. There is a saying: "There is no problem, only solution." There are no problems, only solutions. When you are doing what needs to be done, you no longer see it as a problem. I often ask the yogis, "When does a problem start? How does a problem begin?" A problem starts the moment you think of it as a problem. Is what is happening an experience or a problem? When reactions like dissatisfaction, liking, or disliking arise, that's when a problem starts. A problem exists only because there is a reaction. Liking is also a problem, and disliking is also a problem. If you don't perceive what is happening as a problem, then it ceases to be a problem and just becomes an experience, just a life event. You have to repeatedly observe how the mind is reacting based on the sense objects and experiences you encounter. Both liking and disliking, both of them, pull your attention.

Practicing meditation is a kind of education. It is striving to gain knowledge, striving to develop wisdom. To observe an experience. While observing it with mindfulness, we are aware to see what kinds of insights and wisdom arise. We are aware because we want to know the nature of the body and the nature of the mind.

Once a person is born, the most important thing in life is to know one's own mind. If you don't know your own mind, you can't really be called a human being; you've become an animal. Do you know the difference between a human being and an animal? Animals are born with a rebirth-linking consciousness (paṭisandhi-citta) that is the result of unwholesome kamma (with delusion). Whereas the human rebirth-linking consciousness is always the result of wholesome kamma, and it includes the wisdom mental factor (panna cetasika, non-delusion). While all human beings have the wisdom mental factors, animals do not. That wisdom is the mind that can reflect and know the mind itself. Animals have to follow every impulse of the mind. You know how, even when they're in a good mood, if anger arises, they immediately snap and bite? They just follow every impulse of the mind. They don’t have the ability to be aware of their own minds like human beings do. 

Although human beings have this ability, if they don't practice or develop it to make it stronger, they aren't much different from animals. Sometimes, look at people when they are very angry – that person has lost their "human mind." Because they are so angry, they can no longer distinguish right from wrong and just do whatever they want. If you observe your own mind with mindfulness, you will see it. When anger arises, you only think of the bad side, you only think negatively; you never think of the positive side. It's called becoming one-sided; your wisdom has become blind. You no longer know what is beneficial or not, what is appropriate or not, what should be done or not, what should be said or not. That is called your wisdom being blinded. Therefore, to be truly human, you need to know about the mind. Actually, the "level of being" – the quality of one's life – is measured by the quality of the mind.

If one is always living in the present moment, if one is always occupied with present-moment objects, then the mind doesn't go to the past or future much. If you ask why a person frequently goes to the past and future, it's because there are many likes, dislikes, and dissatisfactions. People who worry a lot, people who want a lot, people who are dissatisfied a lot – those kinds of people pay more attention to the past and future. They are dissatisfied with things that have passed; things that haven't come yet, things they want, things they haven't gotten yet, things that haven't happened yet, things they worry about – by repeatedly thinking and thinking about these things, over time, it becomes a habit, you see. A person whose mental defilements (kilesa) have weakened is occupied only in the present. A person who has few desires thinks less. A person who has few dissatisfactions thinks less.

If you look at the act of thinking, thinking has a driving force. Why does one want to think? People say they think because they like it. Is it certain that one thinks because they like thinking? Check it again. Mostly, a person who wants a lot also thinks a lot. A person who is dissatisfied a lot thinks a lot. Even if they are not actively thinking in their mind, the wants and dissatisfactions keep reappearing. Also, a person who wants something, even when idle, just keeps pondering and thinking about the things they want. If there is something one wants to get, if there is a desire, thoughts like "When will I get it? What time will I get it?" frequently arise in the mind. If there is someone you are dissatisfied with in your mind, if there is a matter you are dissatisfied with, doesn't it also keep frequently reappearing, and you find yourself repeatedly thinking about it? Isn't that true?

While thinking, one can observe the driving force of greed (lobha) and aversion (dosa) behind it. What is the motivation for wanting to think? Why does one want to think? It would be good if one could observe to that extent. It is not enough to just follow and look at the thought itself; one must also observe the driving force behind it.

When you want to do something in your mind, thoughts related to that matter frequently appear, don't they? If you are dissatisfied, they also appear frequently. If awareness (sati) and stability of mind (samādhi) of the present moment are weak, then thoughts will scatter here and there. That is called distraction. I'm not saying you shouldn't think at all. If you are aware of every thought, then it's not bad.

When the mind stays inside, it's better. It feels secure and grounded. Only pay attention to the outside when necessary; stay more inside. If it does that, it's better. Because if the mind isn't working well internally, it's wandering around thinking about external things, paying attention to the outside. If it's working well inside, it doesn't reside in the external environment.

Right now, while sharing the donation money, it's also like that. I keep the mind only on the task of handing out the envelopes. I am knowing the mind again. And most importantly, I am holding the primary awareness of being mindful. The awareness of "Donation is happening, there are many people here" is not very strong. The mind is only aware of the task of handing out the envelopes. I take one envelope from the stack in my hand and put it into the bag held by each Sayalay (Nun) who comes in front of me. The mind only focuses on that. The mind does not scatter towards other matters; it is gathered and settled. It was also like this when I was practicing in the market. The mind just stayed inside.

If it's necessary to pay attention to the environment, then one should. But right now, there's no problem even if I don't pay attention externally, so it's not needed. Therefore, I just stay inside. For matters like crossing the road, I would still be inside, but I would also pay attention externally if necessary. Right now, I'm leaning more towards the side of mindfulness. The mind is doing the work of awareness, and the mind also knows that it's working, so the mind just stays inside. There’s little attention paid outwardly; otherwise, the mind would be scattered, knowing the entire environment.

Paying attention only when needed is important. The wisdom orders: “Only pay attention when necessary, don't when it's not needed.” Normally, the untrained mind just habitually pays attention to everything, needed or not. I noticed one young yogi. When he is talking to someone, his mind is always outwards and scattered. He cannot focus on the person he is talking to. If someone walks by, he looks. Every time he hears a door open or close, he turns to look. His mind follows and latches onto every sense object it encounters, however unimportant or unnecessary, and it becomes scattered. Actually, when talking, the mind should gradually become collected, focusing on the matter of conversation, rather than being scattered about the environment. But now, because it's a habit, he cannot collect his mind; he can't gather it. His mind just wanders onto every object it meets.

Without concentration (samādhi), it's just like that. The power of focus is weak. This morning, while meditating, I thought about concentration: if it's needed, then the mind must work on it. 'When needed' is the key point. If the meditation practice has momentum, then it's not needed. But when it's weak, then you must strengthen it again. You can't always be rigid. You have to look at the situation, the time, and the condition, and do what is necessary when it's needed. Having wisdom means that, depending on the situation, you use either “samatha” (concentration meditation) or “vipassanā” (insight meditation) as needed. You become skilled in both and then use whichever is appropriate where needed. When I was practicing in the market, the wisdom was weak. Because the wisdom wasn't strong, I had to use a lot of “samatha (concentration meditation)” power. A wise person doesn't cling to any one method. They look at the situation, the time, and the condition, and then adjust accordingly. If you always keep it rigid and uniform according to a fixed formula, wouldn't the intellect become dull?

If you repeatedly check whether there is awareness, if you know that there is awareness, then you are very sure that there is awareness. If you only look at the object, you are not sure whether you are aware or not, right? You can get carried away by the object; you can lose it. When I ask yogis, "Are you sure you are aware?", they can't answer anymore. To be sure, you must know anew that you are aware. If you know consistently without losing awareness, if you know anew that you are aware, then you know for sure that you are aware, and you can say it. If you know consistently that you are aware, you are very sure that you are not losing awareness.

When you ask yogis if they are aware, they tend to answer, "I am aware of something." Then, if I ask them again, "Are you sure you are aware?", they are no longer sure. Why? Because they only know the object. To be sure that you are aware, you must know anew that you are aware. That's why in my book, it is written, "Is it a superficial knowing? Or is it a clear and precise knowing?"

When I started to teach meditation, I kept asking one of Shwe Oo Min Sayadaw's students, "Are you aware? Are you sure you are aware?" When I asked him that, the yogi replied, "Only when you ask, Venerable Sir, I do realize I wasn't truly aware. I only thought I was. It just felt like I knew but I was not sure." And so, the yogi became aware by himself that he was not actually aware but only thought he was. He thought he was being aware and knowing, but thinking and knowing are not the same, right?

Another yogi thought he was being aware while he was eating. Later, when awareness returned, he realized and knew that he had not been aware a moment ago. Why did he think that? It's because he thought, "I will eat with awareness," just before eating. He knew that thought, "I will eat with awareness." But, even while he was eating, he actually didn't eat with awareness. When awareness returned, he clearly knew by himself that he had not been aware earlier. Even though he thought, "I will eat with awareness," and didn't actually eat with awareness, just having that thought made him think he was aware. Therefore, if you are aware, you must know clearly and precisely that you are aware.

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* Transcriber's footnote:

Anew: meaning each moment of knowing is a new arising.