VEN KHEMA’S SHORT COLLECTION
of the Dhamma Sakkacca of Sayadaw U Tejaniya
(Batch 21-40)

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.

Yogi: When people practice meditation, if they focus intently and aware (the object), they don't feel drowsy.

Sayadaw: Those who maintain strong concentration won't feel drowsy while focusing. But the moment they relax their effort, drowsiness sets in. Take people accustomed to deep concentration, if you ask them to meditate, they might quickly slip into dullness or even fall asleep.

Yogi: Intense focus is actually exhausting. So why do some people still prefer it? Is it because they don't realize how tiring it is?

Sayadaw: No. They enjoy the stillness that arises after concentrating. Though the effort is tiring, the calmness (samadhi) that follows becomes pleasurable. Once they grow attached to that calm, they drift into it. That's why some keep chasing after this method because focusing seems to bring peace.

But in truth, the mind can settle without the forceful concentration. If no mental agitation arises, the mind naturally becomes still. With the right attitude, the calm deepens further. If the approach is wrong, no amount of focus will stabilize the mind. But with continuous, correct awareness, the mind quiets down on its own.

Yogi: About stillness – yesterday, while lying on my bed, I was simply watching the knowing mind. Without expecting anything special, just maintaining the right attitude and knowing what was present, my mind became quite calm. At that moment, a water bottle I had taken out from the fridge and left on the table made a "pop" sound because it adjusted to room temperature. Though the sound was short, the way I perceived it felt slightly long, as if it lingered. Was this due to stability (samadhi) or mindfulness (sati)?

Sayadaw: It's due to both. Mindfulness is what is known, but samadhi makes it seem more prolonged. The sound itself wasn't actually longer – it just felt more vivid. Because the mind was calm and collected, the sound was fully perceived. Normally, we don't fully register sounds, so they seem incomplete. But here, mindfulness was present, the mind was still, and the object was clearly known – so the impression was complete, making it seem longer. It's the clarity that makes it feel extended.

Both mindfulness and samadhi (stability) are involved. They support each other. Samadhi strengthens mindfulness, and mindfulness strengthens samadhi. Samadhi also aids wisdom. They work together, each supporting the other. That's why when the five spiritual faculties (faith, effort, mindfulness, stability and wisdom) are balanced, they function harmoniously.

It's like playing basketball – if all five players are strong, the game flows beautifully. But if one is weak, the performance suffers.

When I first started teaching meditation abroad, I explained the nature of insight (vipassana). Other meditation teachers later commented, "The way you teach is like watching an entire basketball game. Meditating isn't just focusing on one player, it's seeing the whole court. That's where the real depth lies." If you only look at one part, it's incomplete. You need to see the whole process, how one thing leads to another – to understand cause and effect and fully appreciate the practice.

Last night, since I had to leave for the airport at 7:30 this morning, I prepared everything I needed in advance. Still, by morning I was running a little late for breakfast. I quickly ate, returned to my room. I did what was needed to be done, packed what needed to be packed, and when I realized there were new items to add, I included them. By the time everything was ready, I looked at the clock, it was already 7:20am. Time always seems to slip away unnoticed when we’re about to leave. It felt as if there wasn’t enough time, even though I actually finished ten minutes early.

That experience gave me one thought. In the final moments of life, time too must seem to pass so quickly. It would surely feel just like this. Only if we have prepared well in advance will we be ready. If we wait until the last moment to put things in order, it will be too late, and the mind will not be at peace.

I know of one yogi who often forgets things when she is about to leave, and the result is always a little chaotic. This kind of hurried state is not good. My aspiration is to meet life’s final moment with undisturbed calm, clear awareness and mindful presence.

Sayadaw: Last week, I happened to visit a town I hadn't been to in a long time. There, I also happened to meet again with some old yogis (meditators). In their place, compared to here, everything is comfortable and they do not suffer very much, so people have forgotten to practice meditation (Dhamma). Because of that, I talked a bit about Dhamma and told them that even during comfortable times, they shouldn't indulge in the comfort but should return to living with mindfulness, so as there’s balance.

People aren't practicing constantly anymore, so the habit of living with mindfulness hasn't gained momentum yet. Their meditation practice hasn't yet permeated into their lives. For me, there is a certain standard level where the mind keeps the power of mindfulness, the momentum of mindfulness. We always live in a way to maintain that limit. For example, an alcoholic, if he hasn't reached his level (of intoxication), he doesn't feel right. A meditator also has his own specific level. If he is at his level, he is calm and feels normal. If he is not, the mind becomes confused, actions become erratic, and the mind becomes disturbed. When things like that start to happen, meditator doesn't endure it anymore. He gives more time to the side of practicing meditation and practices more. He practices again to regain and reach a certain standard. It's like an alcoholic who keeps on drinking until he gets the standard he wants, right? Only when he reaches his level does he become calm.     

It's the same for a meditator. For someone who always lives with Dhamma-awareness and mindfulness, if the mind becomes troubled, he can't continue to live like that, he doesn't want to. If being unmindful lasts too long and confusion/agitation sets in, he knows that at that point, he can't let it continue any longer; he must work on the meditation side again. Just like alcoholics, if they don't drink, their hands start to shake or they feel like they have gas (get agitated), truly serious meditators also, if they are unmindful for too long, start to feel a lack of something and it compels them to practice. Someone who practices constantly cannot be unmindful for long; they simply cannot stay that way no matter what.

If you practice meditation for a long time, you will feel that limit. You will experience that "level being met." This is just the analogy that Shwe Oo Min Sayadawgyi told me. Explaining it like that, I really understood the meaning of the "level being met." He used the nature of an alcoholic as an example. Also, if you live with Dhamma through practice in your life for a long time, the Dhamma will, by itself, pull you along.

Sayadaw: When we say to practice with comfort and relax, it means not to practice with greed (lobha). It's instructing us to practice without greed involved. Being "relaxed" means being free from defilements (kilesa). If defilements are present, one will never be at ease. Furthermore, the effort must be right effort (sammā vāyāma). There is such a thing as wrong effort (micchā vāyāma). The driving force behind wrong effort is the driving force of defilements. If you practice with a strong desire, with intense craving, that is defilement. If you practice with defilements, it is merely wrong effort. Therefore, for effort to be balanced, you must go steadily without stopping. The nature of effort (viriya) is patience, perseverance, and not giving up. It is not about using a lot of force. Using excessive force does not mean one has good effort. If you use more force than necessary, it is wrong. Practicing like that becomes wrong effort. That is why the "Middle Way" (Majjhimā Patipadā) is called the middle path. It refers to practicing calmly, evenly, and correctly. It is a warning to avoid extremes. If a yogi practices with desire and applies excessive force, it becomes wrong effort. Practicing like that will only make attaining Dhamma further away. As Maha Bodhi Myaing Sayadaw said, "If you walk with your heels placed in front, where will you end up?" You are walking, but since your heels are placed forward, you will actually move backward. If greed enters your effort while you are practicing, you will move backward.

People's nature is accustomed to applying force. Throughout life, whatever they do, they do it with eagerness. When they practice meditation, it's the same. They are told they must try, so they try, but mostly they try with greed. When it comes to meditation practice, you cannot attain anything by practicing with greed. The moment greed enters the effort is no longer right.

Yogi: In that case, what about practicing as described in "ātāpī sabbadaṃ" – practicing until one's bones are weary and one's flesh is wasted'?

Sayadaw: Only when you are skilled. Only when you have become skilled in practice. Once you are adept at meditation, then you can practice until your bones are weary and your flesh is wasted. If you try to do that when you are not yet skilled in meditation practice, only your bones will become weary and your flesh will waste away.

You just need to become skilled. That's why you must first train to become proficient in meditation practice. You cannot do it without being skilled. Even in worldly matters, like business, can you do it haphazardly? You cannot do any work haphazardly. If you work recklessly and hastily, you will not gain any benefit; it will only bring fault. People act hastily and recklessly due to a lack of wise understanding (ñāṇa). If you are reckless, you won't go straight; you will veer off course. That is why we talk about the balanced, Middle Way, the "Majjhimā Patipadā".

The Buddha made the resolution, "I will not rise from this spot until I become a Buddha." That's because He knew His own situation and condition very well.

I once met a yogi. Inspired by the Buddha, he practiced all night long. I advised him that it's not possible, that he shouldn't practice like that, but he didn't listen and forced himself to practice. If you went to see him at night, he was already drowsy. After consistently practicing without sleep every night, what happened was that he became drowsy whether it was morning or night, whenever he sat. Eventually, drowsiness became a habit. In this way, by persistently practicing beyond his capacity, the habit of drowsiness became ingrained and gained momentum. So even when he sat in the morning, he was drowsy. As soon as he started meditating, he would slip into that same pattern. Although he was sitting all night, genuine effort wasn't happening. Only drowsiness had become a habit. Therefore, you must practice with wisdom (ñāṇa) present. If wisdom is present, you are skilled, and you have momentum, then you can do it.

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.

Yogi: While I was practicing, some thoughts arose. I saw that within that thought, feelings of sadness and happiness were occurring. So, as the Sayadaw said, "If your mindfulness and concentration are good, look directly at it," I looked at it directly. As soon as I looked, it just disappeared. It was very fast.

Then, in the same way, while I was eating, I saw a liking mind (lobha). I knew it. As soon as I looked at it, just like before, it immediately disappeared again.

Sayadaw: Well, you just look. Just be aware of it. Whether it disappears or not is not your job. If the awareness on the side of looking is strong, then it will disappear. If the wisdom on this side (the mind) is weak and the power on the side of the defilement (kilesa) is strong, then it is not sure it will disappear or not. If you watch defilement with forceful effort, then the side of the defilement cannot withstand the gaze and will disappear.

But if you can see it like this without even looking, isn't that enough? You are already seeing it, aren't you? Why look again? Sometimes, when you look, if the awareness mind becomes too strong, the defilement side pretends and tends to hide itself. If you want to know the truth as it is, don't look directly. Look at it out of the corner of your eye, just peek at it. If you go and look directly, it won't submit to being looked at and will just hide. After having some experience on practice, if you can see it as it is occurring, that is enough. It is sufficient.

The point is just to see it, not to make it disappear. Before, it was like that. If the awareness power is strong, you look and it disappears. But if, without looking, you can just see it during the time it is occurring, and it naturally arises and passes away by itself, that is good. If it disappears because you look, you don't fully comprehend the characteristic of impermanence (anicca). Why? Because you might think it disappeared only because you looked at it. The characteristic should be "it arose, and now it is gone." It needs to happen by itself, naturally. If you want to understand the true nature, if you want to know the truth as it is, don't focus a lot when you look, when you are aware. When you are just beginning to practice, you need to follow and look, but when you have been practicing for a while like this, it is no longer necessary.

Yogi: I had the chance to listen to a Dhamma talk yesterday. In the talk, it was said that when an external object (image) strikes the internal sense base, the eye, visual consciousness arises. A seeing experience occurs; contact (phassa) has happened. After that experience, feeling (vedanā) follows – whether it's liking or disliking. Because of those liking and disliking feelings, craving (taṇhā) arises afterwards. So, the Dependent Origination (Paṭicca Samuppāda) is spinning like that, right? So, if at the stage of feeling, instead of liking or disliking, there’s equanimous feeling (upekkhā vedanā), would craving not arise? Is that how it is?

Sayadaw: It's because craving does “not” arise that equanimity (upekkhā) occurs. You can't try to stop craving at that stage; it's too late. If you don't want craving to arise, wisdom (ñāṇa) must already be present and leading from the very beginning.

Yogi: So, does that mean awareness must be present before contact (phassa)?

Sayadaw: Yes. At the moment the object makes contact, wisdom must already be there. If it is, then defilements (kilesa) won't arise. Wisdom must be present first; it must arrive first. If you try to change at the moment of contact, it's too late. If you try to change it only when feeling has arisen, you can't change it anymore. The reason is that the mind process is extremely fast. You can't intervene at the feeling stage and try to change it. Once contact is made, feeling immediately follows. Because delusion (moha) is present at the start of the process, greed (lobha) arises later. Therefore, from the very beginning, where there would be delusion, there must instead be non-delusion (amoha – wisdom). At the time the object is experienced, non-delusion must be present. Because non-delusion is present, the resulting feeling will be an equanimous feeling (upekkhā vedanā).

Yogi: But for us yogis, the moment we encounter an object, the feeling of liking or disliking has already arisen. So what should we do then?

Sayadaw: At that stage, you simply have to observe that feeling itself. You cannot interrupt the process that has already started and change it. Once a process has begun, it's instantaneous – if 1 happens, it has already reached 10. You cannot step between steps 3 and 4 to change it. Amoha must be present before the object makes contact. Then, if you meet the object with amoha, the resulting experience will be one of equanimity, and afterwards, craving will not follow.

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.

Boredom is also a feeling. It's a state of mind. It can be known. If you are aware that you are bored, you will see that it has an intensity. How bored are you? Are you very bored? Or just a little bored? It's the same with happiness, and it's the same with sadness. Any emotion you look at has an intensity. Whether its external force or energy is little, a lot, or very much – if you follow and observe it in this way, it will gradually lessen. Furthermore, if you become interested in it (the boredom itself), it decreases. Boredom can be taken as an object and aware of it in meditation.

In life, this boredom is quite troublesome, you know. Mostly, boredom arises because there is something we want. We also get bored if we are not interested in the present situation. It's more obvious with young people. It's an energetic age, an age to seek out interesting stimuli, an age that wants to have fun. Because one can only be happy if there is an interesting object.

If you tell a person who is always on their phone to stop looking at it, they don't know what to do anymore. They have to go and search for another object. Since they are only satisfied with that object, without it, it feels like something is missing for them.

Drowsiness is also due to boredom. "Thina-middha" means sluggishness, dullness, and boredom. "Thina" and "middha" are always used together. The quality of this bored mind is not very good; its quality is poor. Normally, because we don't like this bored mind, we resist it and search for other interesting objects of attention. However, when meditating, if you just take the boredom itself as your object, that's enough. Some people, when they get bored during meditation, they try searching for an object they want. If you do that, it gets worse. You sit, and because you don't get the object you want, you get bored. You want samadhi (stability of mind), and because samadhi doesn't arise, you get bored.

If you can become interested in and observe the bored mind itself, you don't need anything else. Use boredom as the object, take it as an experience, and just be aware of it. You can also investigate if you want. Asking questions like "Who is bored?", "What is boredom?", "Why am I bored?" –  asking these kinds of questions repeatedly is also an investigation. What is this thing called boredom? It's just a feeling, a mind, it's not "me". If, due to delusion (moha), you don't understand this and think "I am bored," it can make you even more bored. If you can look at boredom as just an object, then it's okay. When boredom arises, it is also necessary to ask questions and investigate. In mindfulness meditation you need to know how to investigate.

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.