VEN KHEMA’S SHORT COLLECTION
of the Dhamma Sakkacca of Sayadaw U Tejaniya
(Batch 61—80)

When a yogi is meditating, sometimes what they are aware of and what's actually happening are completely different. What's happening is one thing, and what they are aware of is another. The yogi may not be aware of what is happening, and is forgetting to be aware.

For example, when the body is comfortable (or healthy/well) and the mind is consequently enjoying that feeling, but instead of being aware of that feeling of enjoyment, the yogi just keeps being aware of the in-breath and out-breath, then when they get sick or have a fever, they will suffer. The attention on the tip of the nose that they are always aware won't be able to save them.

That is why it's necessary for the yogi to know what object they are aware of during meditation and why they are aware of it. They need to investigate what other objects of awareness are available.

If the yogi isn't aware of what is happening but only stubbornly focuses their awareness on the chosen main object, then they won't know the states of mind that are enjoying things. In that case, attachments to experiences and sense objects are bound to arise.

The object the yogi is aware of and what is actually happening must reach comprehensive awareness, they need to have a wide view. They must know which objects the mind is becoming attached to. There are so many objects. Even if the meditator only focuses their awareness on this one object and doesn't get attached to this specific object, can they not get attached to the other objects? If they don't know, they will get attached. Even sitting comfortably creates attachment. When it feels good to sit, one even thinks, "I could sit like this all day."

Sayadaw: Sometimes, when people are doing well, they forget to be mindful. So, what should we contemplate during times of well-being? How should we reflect? If we are unmindful of our easeful situation and forget, attachments will arise. When everything is going smoothly, with no particular problems and no major suffering, people forget, become delighted with the situation, and get attached. If you lack mindfulness (sati), the mind is certain to feel delighted. When the mind is thus delighted, and a time of difficulty arrives, one cannot endure it – they suffer. The intensity of the suffering depends on the degree of delight (attachment) experienced during the time of ease.

For example, a yogi who is currently suffering severely from cancer is experiencing constant pain. For the mind not to react during such continuous pain, they must have had wisdom (insight) even during the times they were well. That is why we should consider, “How should we reflect during times of ease and good health? Should we wait for suffering in order to contemplate?” But suffering is not always present. So, it feels like we would have to create suffering just to contemplate. It is also practically true that to increase the endurance for suffering, one must face and confront suffering more often. However, since suffering is not constant yet, what should we reflect upon, and how should we practice during the times when suffering is absent and everything is going well? What deeper understanding should we have? It is very important to prepare in advance so that we are able to understand suffering when it actually occurs. 

This morning, I woke up and checked my blood pressure; it was 125/75. Condition is good, and I feel fine. There is no inconvenience, no suffering. How should I reflect at that time? If I forget, I will think, "This is great, today is wonderful," and become pleased and delighted. If I am thus delighted, when the opposite situation arises, I will react strongly. If you don't want such explosions and outcries to happen when you become ill later on, you must do something now, while conditions are good. What should you do? What should you focus on? How should you practice?

Yogi: For me, I have a mind that is delighted with the smooth situation, and I also have a mind that is worried that this good situation will disappear. I repeatedly recognize these thoughts as they arise. When conditions are going well, the mind is already pleased.

Sayadaw: In that case, defilements (kilesa) have already arisen. To lessen these defilements, you must have mindfulness and wisdom during times of ease. You must contemplate and reflect upon such thoughts (defilements) every time you see them. After you contemplate the arising thoughts, as you just mentioned, and they lessen, what thought arises next, and what do you do?

Yogi: At that point, the understanding comes that this smooth situation is nothing special, and it is not something to cling on to (attach to).

Sayadaw: Wouldn't it be better if that understanding (wisdom) was present from the beginning? As you repeatedly contemplate every time an experience occurs, and wisdom repeatedly arises, eventually, that wisdom will arrive beforehand. Therefore, you must have mindfulness and wisdom even during times when everything is going well. You can practice this daily.

For example, yesterday, when I took a shower and turned on the tap, the water came out "woong" (strongly). That is a smooth situation. If you become attached to that feeling of pleasure, then whenever the electricity goes out and you can't shower well with the water spray, your mind will complain. As soon as you complain, anger (dosa) arises. Dosa is not only called dosa when you fight or yell. Disliking the situation (aversion) is already dosa. You must start practicing with these small matters and small anger. If you practice with small issues and small anger, it won't escalate into a big one. In reality, all conducive situations arise because the causes and conditions are complete. If you understand this, you will not be especially delighted. In the case of the shower, when the electricity is on, and the water pipe is in good order, the motor is working, and there is water – it is the arising of these causes that produces a result (the strong water spray). If you don't understand this, you become delighted, thinking every day, "Good, I like it," and then on the day the electricity goes out, you will lament, "Oh man!" Thus, there are many things to practice even during times of ease.

In the case of good blood pressure, one has to take many types of medicines to keep the blood pressure regulated. One is taking medicine because their health is not good, yet the mind is delighted by the good result. In reality, it is just cause and effect. The good blood pressure result is created by the medicine. If you understand that this is happening due to cause and effect, the thought of delight will not arise; you cannot be overly joyful. I always teach that all physical (rupa) and mental (nama) phenomena are effects that arise from causes.

There are many things that go smoothly every day. Even if you don't experience major suffering or sadness, don't be forgetful! If things are going well, recognize that things are going well, again and again.

Yogi: It's difficult for me to be mindful when speaking. I often speak unmindfully.

Sayadaw: It is difficult because you have never practiced speaking with mindfulness. The Buddha said, "Bhāsite Sampajāna Kāro, Tuṇhībhāve Sampajāna Kāro" – meaning, "While speaking, one stays with mindfulness and wisdom; also in silence, one stays with mindfulness and wisdom." The instruction is already there. Furthermore, if you are aware of your own mind and can be aware of the intentions, then you can also be aware of those intentions when speaking. Why? Because you can't speak without the intention to talk. When the intention to talk arises, that intention is clearly obvious. If you can observe, or be mindful of that intention to talk, then you are also being mindful of the act of speaking itself.

There are forces of intention before you speak. If you notice what is pushing that intention to talk – if you know that state of intending to speak – you gain a small moment for consideration. You gain a "space." You can then consider, "Is it good to speak now or not? Is it beneficial or not?" If there is mindfulness (sati), wisdom (pañña) follows. Mindfulness and wisdom are always connected; so if there is mindfulness, there is potential for wisdom to enter. You will think, "Should I speak now, or later?" Skillful at speaking means being able to speak appropriately in a given situation. The Buddha's attribute "sugato" (well-spoken) refers to skillful speech. How is he skillful at speaking? He waits for the appropriate timing and speaks a single word or phrase that allows the other person to understand immediately.

You can practice skillful speaking while practicing the Dhamma (meditation). If you are mindful every time you speak, you will no longer speak nonsense. When some people speak, they speak unmindfully, saying unnecessary things, and their relationships have problems. Since it has become a habit, they always speak that way. Some people include words in their speech that sound like subtle digs, provocations, or sarcasm towards the other person. Because people have underlying defilements (kilesa), there are states of like and dislike present. When people speak unmindfully of this, the defilements rush in and out as they please, and the defilements insert words without the person even knowing it. Since there is no mindfulness, the defilements get the opportunity to carry out their work. That is why if you are not mindful while speaking, things will always be confusing, and problems unending.

If you know how to speak with mindfulness and wisdom, you will also only speak whenever necessary. When I was practicing meditation in the market, I read the Dhamma Rammasi magazines. I really liked the eight precepts that elaborated on false speech (musāvāda). The eight precepts that did not require avoiding the evening meal. What are they? "Not lying, not gossiping, not using harsh speech, and not slandering." This means moderating your speech. If you do this, mindfulness is included every time you speak. You also won't speak much. Progress in the Dhamma is very fast. When people are not aware, they speak unbeneficial things and gossip. If talk about others' bad things is included, it becomes gossip. Make it a habit to be mindful every time you speak. In truth, if you are always observing the mind, everything else is included.

Yogi: When I am doing walking meditation or doing monastery work like sweeping, I become interested in awareness of what is happening. But when it’s time for sitting meditation, my interest in practice becomes weak. As soon as I start sitting meditation, my mind pushes against the sitting, and from sitting, I want to get up and just do walking meditation.

Sayadaw: The Yogi assumes that awareness of things during general activities is good. Therefore, you don’t get much satisfaction from sitting. You have this judgement that the general part is good, and since there are more things to know in general activities, you find it more interesting. Consequently, you judge the sitting time as not good. So, you think it’s boring.

Yogi: Yes. Sitting has become boring. Because I have to observe just one thing, I get bored.

Sayadaw: It’s not just one thing to be aware of. There are many things to be aware of. If you think, “I only have to look at this,” then you will get bored. You also don’t like the pain when sitting, so you want to sit even less. If you judge sitting as not good, you won’t have the intention to sit; you will become bored.

In truth, while sitting, there are also many things to be aware of and observe. Just as there are mind and body during walking, during sitting there are also many instances of mind and body.

Observe the mind that is pushing against sitting, the mind that doesn’t want to sit. That thinking is wrong. The disliking mind is reacting. If you desire one thing, then you come to dislike the other. If you judge one thing as good, you will judge the other side as not good. Some people like sitting; some like walking meditation. Don’t get attached to these preferences. If the mind is in a state of dislike, it thinks it’s not good and then doesn’t want to do it. During sitting, there are also many instances of mind and body, just as during walking there are many instances of mind and body to observe.

When is a good time to meditate? Morning, afternoon, evening, or night? Some prefer morning, some prefer evening. There is no time that is inherently better; they are all the same. The idea that one time is better is just people thinking what they want to think. Sitting is not better, and walking is not better. A person who prefers sitting judges sitting as good. A person who is inclined towards walking judges walking as good. It’s all just judgements. None is better. They are all the same. Even though the postures are different, the act of being aware and observing should be the same.

In daily activities, you think you are more alert and awake and that there are more things to be aware of, so you find it more interesting. When it comes to sitting time, you think, “It’s just these things,” and so you get bored. In truth, it’s not “just these things.” Everything is always new. Have you heard the saying, “old things = Pannati (concept) and new things = Paramattha”? “Pannati is old” means, for example, when there is pain or an ache, if you take it as “This pain has been going on for a long time, it’s been hurting since five minutes ago until now,” then that pain has become a concept.

If you understand the ultimate reality, you see that those pain sensations are always changing. They are not a solid, continuous lump. It’s the same with an itch. It’s new. If you think it’s been itching since a moment ago, that’s a concept. The ultimate reality is that which is always changing. The constant flux of the new and the old is called the ultimate reality. If you think, “It’s just this,” then your attitude is wrong. Therefore, you will get bored. For example, if you look at a book and think it’s one you’ve already read, will you be interested? If it’s new, you will be interested, right? Thought and attitude are important.

As soon as you assume it’s something you’ve already read, you lose interest. If it’s new, you are interested. It’s the same with practicing Dhamma. That’s why, in terms of reality, all phenomena are always new; the new and old are constantly changing. If you are in a state of dislike, it’s because your attitude is wrong. So, look back at the disliking mind. Look back at it, and only when your attitude becomes correct will it be right. When sitting, it’s just mind and body; when walking, it’s just mind and body; that’s all you need to observe. If the mind thinks, “I only have to observe this same thing,” then investigate to see what else you can know. How many things can you know simultaneously? What can you know throughout the whole body? Investigate a little.

You are about to return home from the meditation retreat. When you get home, what should you focus your attention on? With what mindset should you be aware of people? When you return home, you will see your family members. When you see them, what mental attitude should you contemplate? I always ask the yogis who are returning home from the meditation retreat, “Whose home are you returning to when you go back?” If you say, “I am returning to my home,” then problems begin. The moment you center everything around “I,” you have already made a mistake.

Why is it that when yogis return home, their minds are no longer peaceful? It’s precisely because of the mindset of “my family,” “my home.” When it comes to “I,” the mind is never at peace; it’s always agitated. Home is not a very good place. People say, “Home is a place of bliss (sīrīgaha).” They call a place where defilements run rampant, noisy and chaotic, a “place of bliss.”

Home is a place that gives free rein to greed. Why? Because at home, you only keep things you like. If you don’t like something, you don’t keep a single one; you get rid of them all. So, what kind of mind arises every time you see these things you like? It’s a mind of greed, of course. So, how do you prevent greed from arising? Since you can’t just leave home and come live at the monastery forever, you must live mindfully and carefully, constantly aware of your own mind. Whenever you meet or see people, look back at your own mind. Keep turning your mind inward. When a person comes to you, they don’t come for nothing. They come to give you suffering. When people come to you, it’s like an infection that is going to spread to you. That’s why you must turn your mind inward toward yourself.

When you return home, you must also watch your mind carefully with awareness and maintain a good quality of mind. Just take care of your own mind. As for what is happening externally, you will, of course, still see and hear it. Always look at your own mind and maintain the good quality of the mind as best you can. If you can do this, you will suffer less. If not, you will be in what the Sayadaw of Shwe Oo Min often calls the “circle of fire around a crazy man.” Who is surrounded by the circle of fire? Just from the phrase “circle of fire around a crazy man,” the fire circles surround the crazy man. Therefore, the fire cannot circle a person who is not crazy. What the Sayadaw says is very meaningful, even though it’s just a short saying. Only if you are crazy will the fire surround you. If you are not crazy, it cannot surround you.

Yogi: This morning, while I was talking on the phone about a problem, I was mindful and aware of the mind. But immediately after the call ended, there was a sudden surge — waves of anger rising strongly. The anger didn't manifest outwardly, but tears flowed on their own. While speaking on the phone, I even sounded calm, saying ‘okay, okay,’ but the moment I hung up, together with thoughts, anger welled up intensely. My skin trembled continuously and tears kept falling. The story is, I had helped those people with a lot of money, but now when it’s time to repay, they said they cannot repay. So after ending the call, much anger came up and many tears streamed out.

Sayadaw: In life, there are times when you endure losses. Sometimes the lesson learned comes at a high price. When you have endured such things before, you gain experience. 

Loss is something we encounter repeatedly. If you learn to take lessons when the loss is small, then when a big one comes, it is easier to bear.

Living in this world, we inevitably face loss — loss of possessions, loss of people; something will always be lost. It is important to develop resilience. Ultimately, we even lose this very body. This body that we cling to as “my body,” that we speak about — we will have to relinquish it. In Burmese, we say “possessions are saṅkhāra, people are saṅkhāra” — meaning everything is impermanent phenomena. The more you experience, the more mature you become.

Why did tears come out? Because the mind was agitated. Tears do not arise simply because you did not get the money back. This is the nature of cittaja-rūpa — mind-produced matter. Even in crying, you can learn something. Tears do not appear without a cause; they arise because the mind is agitated. When happy, tears also come out, don’t they? When agitation arises, cittaja-rūpa manifests. If you can understand this as Dhamma, it is beneficial.

Also, not every time anger arises do tears come out. Some people, when angry, never shed tears — only fists come out. When the mind is stirred, emotions arise, and tears follow. For example, when the desire to eat appears, does saliva not come out? Who ordered it to come out? Did you command it? Did you want it to come out? It arises according to its nature. When the desire to eat arises, the body produces saliva. This is cittaja-rūpa. I am explaining this so that you understand the nature of the body, how mind and matter are connected and working together. By observing crying again and again, you will come to understand cittaja-rūpa.

Yogi: At that time, thoughts such as, “These people only call me when they need something,” arose in my mind — blaming the other side.

Sayadaw: At times like this, whatever the mind says — do not believe any of it. When anger is present, whatever the mind wants to say, absolutely do not believe it. If you believe it, the anger will intensify. At such moments, the mind will not say anything good; it will only produce thoughts that provoke more anger. When anger arises, not a single thought is correct — they are all distorted. At that time, the mind only thinks in ways that generate more anger. Do not take hold of the stories it tells. Do not follow or indulge them.

When those thoughts support the intense, strong feeling, tears come, isn’t that so? The nature of the mind is fast. When the mind arises, it is extremely quick. Because the mind is so fast, the body also changes instantly. You need to know and understand the cause and effect of mind and matter—like this.

Yogi: Is it that only obvious suffering can be seen as dukkha? I was wondering whether we can also recognise the small, constantly occurring forms of dukkha—the minor dukkha that happen in small, everyday matters—as dukkha as well?

Sayadaw: Exactly. In what the Buddha taught, there is only “the truth of dukkha” (dukkha sacca). So can the times when things are going well also be understood as dukkha? For example, Sayadaw U Jotika once asked: “How can one understand a state of good samādhi (stability of mind) as dukkha?” When samādhi is good, the feelings of calm and peace are pleasant—so how can such moments be understood as dukkha? People cannot recognise these states as dukkha. Insight that sees them as dukkha did not arise. But in truth, that too is dukkha. The Buddha taught that all mind and matter, without exception, are dukkha. So when one is in a pleasant moment, how will one know the characteristic of dukkha? When conditions are good, people feel calm and pleasant, and dukkha is no longer seen.

The meditation mind—the observing mind—must be upekkhā (equanimity). No matter how pleasant an experience is, the observing mind must be upekkhā. No matter how strong the samādhi is, no matter how pleasant or stable it feels, the meditation mind must be upekkhā. When you are experiencing pleasant moments, just check this point once.

Without wisdom, equanimity does not arise. When wisdom arises, equanimity arises. When one is enjoying pleasure, equanimity does not arise; when facing something unpleasant, equanimity also does not arise. Equanimity arises only when things are neither good nor bad—when the mind is balanced. On the side of the object, it may be wholesome or unwholesome. But on the side of the observing mind, it must be upekkhā. If one does not pay attention to this point and becomes attached to or carried away by the object, then upekkhā does not arise. For the meditation mind to be upekkhā, some degree of wisdom and awareness must be present.

Lately, I often remind yogis that even during pleasant times they must remain with a mind of equanimity—they must keep returning to the middle. When the experience is pleasant, one must return to the middle. If not, one will cling to one extreme. If that happens, it is certain that when dukkha comes, one will cling to the opposite extreme.

Glossary:

dukkha :

a) unsatisfactoriness, pain, suffering 

b) the suffering in change 

c) the unsatisfactory nature of all existence, of all conditioned phenomena 

d) one of the three universal characteristics of existence (see anicca and anatta), understanding dukkha is a liberating insight (paññā)

It is by looking at how much one's defilements have diminished that one can say at what level a yogi's meditation practice has reached. One can say one's meditation practice is progressing only when one can apply it in life. If, at the meditation centre, one is a good yogi but in life there are only defilements, then one cannot yet apply the meditation practice. Foreign yogis often say: at the centre, they can do everything Sayadaw instructs; they become a “Hero”. But when the retreat ends and they go outside, they become “Zero”. How much can you apply the knowledge and skills you have acquired in your life? If at the centre, defilements are few, but when you go outside, defilements run rampant and you become a person with strong greed, a person with strong anger, a person with strong defilements, then think for yourself at what level you are.

Being truly able to practice and apply it in life is important. That is why, to be able to apply it in life, one is instructed to observe the mind. It is very important to know the mind. In life, mental states are constantly arising. When a defilement arises in the mind, how quickly can one resolve it? The person who can quickly resolve a defilement that has arisen is a skillful meditator. If a yogi has practiced how to observe the mind, then when a defilement arises in the mind, they know it immediately and can observe and can change the mind. Only when one can turn an unwholesome mind state into a wholesome mind state can one be said to truly apply it in life.

How does one measure whether meditation practice is good or not? With what ruler does one measure? One measures by how much the defilements have diminished. If a person who used to get very angry whenever problems arose gradually has less anger after practicing meditation, then their meditation practice has progressed and their dhamma practice has improved. Isn’t that right?

What is meant by progress in meditation practice? It means the arising and strengthening of previously non-existent mindfulness, previously non-existent concentration, and previously non-existent wisdom. In life, whenever confronted with the eight vicissitudes of life, one should measure by how much defilements arise and how quickly one can handle the defilements that have arisen. A Sotāpanna still has greed and anger, but defilements strong enough to lead to hell no longer arise. How much one can apply this in life is important.

Life and Dhamma cannot be separate. There must be Dhamma in life. When defilements arise for meditation practitioners, the duration is short; for ordinary people, the duration is long. For ordinary people, when defilements arise, the force is strong, the duration is long, and the intensity is high. For a person who is always mindful of what is arising in the mind, who is always practicing, as wisdom grows through practice, the occurrences will diminish and the duration will shorten.

Now, let me describe the level of many yogis today. They come to the centre to practice, and when they gain momentum, their level goes up to 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5. When they go back home, it goes down from 5 - 4 - 3 - 2 - 1 - 0, back to Zero. The next time they come to the centre, it goes from 1 to 5 again. When they go home again, it falls from 5 to Zero. And so, they practice for maybe 25 years. When asked how long they have been practicing meditation, they say, “Over a decade.” But the level is only 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. It doesn’t even reach 6. So, there’s no real benefit. Truly, only if one practices consistently in life will the levels be 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8… Only when a yogi practices meditation daily, for years on end, will they reach a higher level.

Yogi: At home, I don't practise much. Mindfulness doesn't stick. The times when mindfulness is present are very few.

Sayadaw: It's not enough. Even while staying at home, you must practise as much as you can; only then will you become familiar with the Dhamma. When there is no intention to maintain mindfulness, the times of being unmindful become many. You only remember to practise meditation at certain times, such as when you are in front of the Buddha image.

Every single day, just as you undertake the precepts upon waking up in the morning, you must make a plan to practise meditation. As soon as you get up from bed, set your mind like this: “Today I will live with mindfulness, I will live with Dhamma; whatever I do, I will do with awareness.” Only when you have this mental attitude, this intention, will you practise more. Only then will there be a path. If there is no path, you will not do it. You must constantly contemplate the practice; only then will you practise. As soon as you wake up, train yourself to turn your mind towards the practice of meditation.

People’s nature has become delusion (moha). Because they have always lived with delusion, being mindful becomes difficult. It is easy to be unmindful, but trying to be mindful feels difficult. Because they have lived with delusion for so long, delusion has become their nature. That's why when people try to be mindful, it feels difficult.

Yogi: Even though you, Sayadaw, say, “What is so difficult about being mindful? Just know it,” for me, just that knowing feels very difficult.

Sayadaw: Because you have lived with delusion and it has gained momentum, delusion does not want to live with mindfulness; it does not want to practise. It only wants to remain as it is. “More fire, fire wins; more water, water wins” — this Burmese saying refers to that. If you say being mindful is difficult and therefore live without mindfulness, you will spend your whole life under delusion, and when you die with delusion, where do you think you will go?

Therefore, Shwe Oo Min Sayadawgyi said: “When practising meditation, practise sincerely, respectfully, and earnestly.” If you guard the Dhamma, the Dhamma will guard you in return. How much the Dhamma guards you depends on how much you guard it. If you don’t guard it, how will it guard you? This is cause and effect.

Yogi: Knowing seems to happen at different levels, with different qualities. Sometimes awareness knows only one object; sometimes it knows many objects. Sometimes it zooms in; sometimes it has a wide view. Sometimes the quality of awareness is very sharp; at other times it is not sharp and feels blurry.

Sayadaw: Just notice what is happening. Depending on the quality of your mind, awareness will be different. Whatever happens is okay.

Yogi: I was wondering how I can take care of the quality of awareness.

Sayadaw: Just keep knowing the quality of awareness consistently. If awareness is good, you can investigate why it is good. If the quality is weak, you also need to investigate why it is weak.

The important thing is to remain aware consistently. When awareness is consistent, you will be able to understand why these differences happen. You will see the reasons when awareness is consistent.

If awareness becomes stronger or weaker, you need to know what was happening before that – what you were doing, or what you were talking about before this experience.

Yogi: So does that mean I have to look for the conditions that make awareness sharp?

Sayadaw: Yes, that is correct. Just be aware of the quality of awareness.

You need to investigate why awareness is sometimes good and sometimes not good.

Investigate how to maintain the good quality of awareness, and how you are relating to it.

Be aware consistently – before it happens, during happening, and after it has happened. You need to notice each part clearly.

The natural wisdom present in our daily life is always learning—always observing, always investigating—and this learning happens through the thinking process. Thinking itself is not a problem; wrong thinking is the problem. Learning requires some level of thinking, not the absence of it. It is the nature of the mind to think, just as the function of seeing consciousness sees. Trying to stop thinking in meditation is like trying to stop seeing or hearing—it is impossible, goes against the law of nature, and creates unnecessary tension.

In meditation, we are not trying to stop thinking, nor are we suppressing thoughts. Instead, we are training a wisdom-based, right way of thinking as an integral part of learning about the nature of mind and bodily processes. This does not mean obsessive or unnecessary thinking. It means thinking wisely about how to practice correctly, how to generate interest in the practice, and how to view experience from the perspective of nature or conditioning, rather than from a personal point of view. All of this requires right thinking, or Right Thought (sammā-saṅkappa).

Right View and Right Thought are central to how we observe reality and relate to the nature of mind and bodily processes, so that right understanding of these natures can arise naturally. This is what is meant by investigating the nature of things as they actually are.

In daily life, we must also think about the practice and consider how to practice in each situation. We need to think wisely about what to say and how to act appropriately in different circumstances. This is our learning process, and this is what meditation practice is about. It requires confidence, right effort, awareness, stability of mind, and wisdom. These are the five spiritual faculties (indriya) that we are developing. Dhamma can be found everywhere when we know how to practice correctly, not only when sitting in meditation. Only then can we observe progress in the practice, and only then does life become meaningfully lived through right practice.

Ordinary awareness is something almost everyone has. People certainly have attention, but it lacks wisdom; there is no Dhamma-awareness in it. What people commonly call awareness is merely sensory perception, not Dhamma-awareness. If one practises meditation, Dhamma-awareness must be present.

True Dhamma-awareness arises only when one is aware with the right view (sammā-diṭṭhi) and right attitude. Merely knowing conventional concepts is not Dhamma-awareness. We say we know heat and cold—but doesn’t a dog also know heat and cold? Since a dog knows heat and cold, can we say it understands ultimate reality (paramattha)? Simply knowing heat and cold cannot be called knowing reality, nor is it Dhamma-awareness.

Dhamma-awareness means being able to understand the object one is aware of with right view (sammā-diṭṭhi) and right attitude. It is called Dhamma-awareness only when one understands that what is happening is not a person or a being, but a natural phenomenon. Ordinary awareness is something everyone has. Everyone knows what is sweet, salty, or bitter. When hungry, everyone knows they are hungry. Yet they do not clearly understand, “This is mind” and “This is body.” They do not have the kind of awareness that sees hunger as a mind–matter (nāma–rūpa) process, not a person or a being, but merely nature.  

When ironing and being careful not to touch the hot iron, that is ordinary awareness—there is no Dhamma-awareness in it, so it cannot be called Dhamma-awareness.

That is why right view (sammā-diṭṭhi) must be explained first. Right View is crucial. Without right view, there is no vipassanā, and no Dhamma-awareness. Although everyone knows things, most of their knowing is conceptual—knowing in terms of “I” and “mine.” When walking and stepping on a stone, everyone feels pain in the foot. But the ordinary knowing is usually, “I am in pain,” “My foot hurts.” People think in terms of “I,” don’t they?

Dhamma-awareness is the opposite of this. It is the kind of awareness that sees, “This is not I,” “This is not mine.” Only then can it be called Dhamma-awareness. Even if one does not yet have this kind of awareness, one should at least reflect on it. At an intellectual level, one must change one’s view—right view must first be established. Later, when true understanding arises, it is directly realised.

People know what is happening in their bodies, but they grasp it with conceptual awareness—personality view, “I”-awareness—holding it as “mine.” Even people who are depressed know that they are feeling down. But knowing it as “I am depressed” makes it worse. Because the knowing is accompanied by wrong view, the more one knows it in this way, the worse it gets. Observing oneself with wrong view leads to greater agitation.

When I myself was suffering from depression, if I thought, “I am depressed,” my hands would begin to shake, and the condition became worse. When serving soup in public, my hands trembled so much that I could hardly serve. Even though I was aware of what was happening, because there was no Dhamma-awareness, I suffered greatly.

There is a fundamental difference between ordinary knowing and knowing in terms of Dhamma. The underlying view is completely opposite.

When walking, there should be two aspects present: the contact or touching, and the knowing mind. As the revered late Shwe Oo Min Sayadawgyi said, “If there is only one, it is not Dhamma. It is only Dhamma when there are two.” If there are two—the object and the knowing mind—then one is practising meditation. Only when these two are clearly distinguished—this is the object, this is the knowing consciousness—does Dhamma-awareness arise.

The Late Shwe Oo Min Sayadaw always said, "If your mind is suffering, you are guilty." What is the guilt? The guilt of not knowing how to live without letting the mind suffer. If you cannot resolve your own mental distress to bring yourself peace, if you cannot think of ways to bring peace to your mind, then you are guilty. If wisdom is lacking, you won't know how to resolve the suffering mind.

When people's minds suffer, they get angry, they explode, they blame others. They don't resolve their own issues themselves. They only try to reject or divert the object. The truth is, you shouldn't try to change the object. You should manage your own mind, which is affected by the object, to be in the best possible state. Even when unwholesome thoughts arise, you should be aware of their arising, then reflect on them with wisdom and contemplate them with wisdom; then you can start reconsidering from a positive perspective. If you can apply your mind appropriately and suitably with yoniso manasikāra (wise attention), you can redirect your own mind back to a wholesome state. However, people have developed the habit of thinking, "I will change only if others change." They don't know how to change themselves for the better. To be able to change requires mindfulness and wisdom. You need to understand the nature of the mind and constantly watch your mind, knowing why the mind becomes suffering and why it becomes happy. The main cause is thought. Be mindful of your thoughts.

The cause for wholesome states of mind is yoniso manasikāra — applying the mind suitably and appropriately. To be able to apply the mind like this, you need to have knowledge, you need to have heard and learned, you need to have studied, you need to have practiced. Having these and being able to apply the mind suitably and appropriately will bring wholesome qualities. This is resolving your own internal issue, the mind problem. Only after you have resolved your own internal affairs should you then deal with external matters. And when dealing with external matters, you shouldn't resolve them with anger. You must resolve them with wisdom.

When people try to solve external issues with angry minds, the problems don't get solved; they just become more messed up. Only when your own side is clear, when there is no more anger, then considering and solving problems with wisdom is the best way. The difficulty people face is that they don't know how to clear their own minds, so they end up solving matters with angry minds. If both sides know their own minds, no problem will arise. If, on the contrary, neither side knows their own mind, problems will keep flaring up like shining on them with a torch.

If you don't know your mind, the defilements (kilesa) will just do their own work, and problems will keep occurring. You need to contemplate whether your mind is generating wholesome or unwholesome states. If you contemplate in this way, when you encounter situations, you will have the wisdom to discern whether this is good or bad. When you don't know your mind, you think whatever you want, and you don't even realize that defiled thoughts are proliferating in your mind. When unwholesome thoughts proliferate continuously and gain strength, you lose control of their momentum and conflicts arise. Among the three types of actions (kamma), mental action (mano kamma) is the most important. All matters start from mental action. If you cannot control it at the stage of mental action, then verbal (vaci kamma) and bodily (kaya kamma) actions come into play. If you can resolve what should be resolved at the stage of mental action, then verbal and bodily actions won't become messed up either.

Yogi: My meditation object has become my boss. She constantly yells at me, and it dominates my mind.

Sayadaw: This is the wrong idea in practice. Your object should be the mind itself, not an external object. Your boss is merely a condition, not a true object of meditation. Whether you fixate on her or not, her behavior may not change. Your task is not to manage her, but to be aware of your own mental state. You must turn your attention inward.

Yogi: When she’s angry, she stops texting and sends long, intense voice messages. I’m still learning how to handle it.

Sayadaw: You just need to be aware of yourself and know about yourself. You have to deal with the internal defilements instead of dealing with external objects. Why do you make an external concept your object? That is unimportant. You just said, “my boss is my object”; this is a totally wrong idea. Aversion is your object. Disliking is your object. You have to take care of the disliking mind because you cannot handle this boss. You cannot change her.

When something happens, people always look in the wrong direction. They show interest in outer, conceptual problems, but neglect the inner defilements that actually cause suffering. All the time, take care of your mind, watching your mind. If the mind is undisturbed, then no situation can disturb you. The whole world becomes zero problem. “There is no problem, only solution.”

Sayadaw: “The 1-minute meditation to relieve a stressful evening” 12th Jan 2026

Yogi: Some meditators say that they can practice in the retreat center, but once they go outside, they're too busy with work and can't practice anymore. How would Sayadaw respond to this?

Sayadaw: It's true that people are busy in daily life. But if one has the desire to practice meditation, it is possible to do so. It depends on how much one understands the benefits of meditation and how much one understands how to meditate in daily life. One can start practicing meditation slowly and steadily.

That's why the method taught at this center is a style that can be practiced within daily life itself. We don't instruct people to move extremely slowly, nor do we overly emphasize intense concentration on a single object. In the outside world, no one can go about their daily actions that slowly.

Let's say you are so busy that you genuinely cannot meditate for long, continuous periods. Could you spare even 1 minute to practice? If you can give 1 minute, you can start practicing from that 1 minute. Whenever you have a moment, practice for 1 minute. Doing 1-minute sessions here and there adds up to many minutes in a single day.

I once met a very busy yogi. He said his work was overwhelming and he had no time to practice. So I asked him if he could spare just 1 minute for practice. He said if it's just 1 minute, that's manageable, and he agreed to try. On the day he started, his work required 8 hours. So, he set an alarm for every single hour. When the alarm rang each hour, he would pause what he was doing and practice meditation for 1 minute. By the time he finished work, he had practiced for a total of 8 minutes that day. He had only practiced for 8 minutes the entire day. However, when he left work, he noticed his mind felt exceptionally light, clear, and refreshed. On previous days, by the time he finished work, he would already be stressed.

Stress accumulates gradually throughout the day, and by evening, it peaks. The stress that builds up all day gathers momentum, so the evening becomes the “toxic hour” for most people. But on that first day of practice, when he finished work, his mind was light and fresh. That 1 minute of meditation practice acted as a circuit breaker for the stress that had built up over the previous hour. It prevented the stress from gaining momentum and intensity. So, the stress couldn't build up with the same powerful force as on previous days. After experiencing this benefit, he gradually increased his practice from 1 minute to 2 minutes per session. Sometimes he would practice for 3 minutes. Sometimes, right after practicing, he would feel the stress diminish immediately. Once he understood this benefit, he began to practice continuously. Now, he practices throughout the entire day.

At the beginning, it is very important to understand the value of meditation. When I started to practice, I also understood that practicing meditation relieves suffering. That little understanding itself provided the driving force to practice continuously. The most crucial thing is to come to understand its value.

Yogi: As soon as thoughts arise, right at the moment they start, I realize that thoughts are arising. Every time I think, I start labeling "thinking, thinking" in my mind.

Sayadaw: When thoughts arise, is it necessary to label "thinking, thinking"? Can't you just know that thinking is happening? Are you still labeling "thinking, thinking" as it happens? If you keep doing that, you won't understand the true nature of thoughts. This way of labeling is actually blocking the arising thoughts with another thought that says "thinking, thinking". That act of labeling "thinking, thinking" is itself just another thought. You've stopped engaging with the first thought and have started thinking the labeling thought instead. This way of method cannot be called "observing the thought." It is suppressing the thought. You are using words to block the original thought on one side with this new labeling thought on the other. Saying "thinking, thinking, thinking" is just using words to think again. When you think this labeling thought, you can no longer engage with the original thought. So, the first thought doesn't come anymore.

The truth is, with every instance of thinking, you have to be directly aware of the mind that is thinking. Just recognize that thinking is happening. Since you already recognize that thinking is happening, why are you shouting "thinking, thinking" from behind? It's not necessary. Only when you directly know that "thinking is happening" will you see the thinking mind arise and see it pass away. If you put a label like "thinking, thinking" on it and change its form, you won't be able to know these things. The main point is to know the act of thinking as an object (of awareness). If you simply give direct awareness to the thinking mind as the "thinking mind", you will know thoughts arising and know them passing. The realization that "the thinking mind has arisen" and "it has passed" will come at that very moment. You will even come to know its absence. If you change its form by labeling "thinking, thinking", you won't understand the arising and passing of this mind.

Yogi: When meditating, can one establish concentration without focusing on an object such as the breath-in, breath-out, rising, falling, or any other specific bodily sensation?

Sayadaw: Of course you can. Vipassanā Samādhi is not about the object; it's about the right thought, the right view. If you have Right View, if you have Right Thought (sammā saṅkappa), then Samādhi exists. You need to be able to think in the right way.

For example: Without judging an object as good or bad, see it as it truly is. Whatever the object, if you think of it as good, you like it; if you think of it as bad, you reject it. If you assume an object is lovable, you love it; if you assume it's hateful, you hate it. A meditator should take it as something to be known. The nature of what is to be known is this: in the breath-in, breath-out, the sensation of touch is the object. In the mind, the thinking thought is the object. You should take the thought as the object, not the storyline. Here, as a first step, when there are thoughts with internal speech, just know that talking is happening.

Because an object is something to be known, it is neither good nor bad. If you understand it like this, the mind is already calm. If there are likes and dislikes regarding the object, it won't be calm. If there are no likes or dislikes, and you simply understand the object as just an object, it will be calm. Vipassanā Samādhi goes along with Right Thought (sammā saṅkappa).

If a yogi, while sitting in meditation, is calm but regards sound as a disturbance, then every time a sound is heard, anger will arise and samādhi will be lost. The moment an unpleasant mind state arises, samādhi is gone. If from the beginning you understand sound as just Dhamma nature, just another object of observation, then even when a sound is heard, you won't take it as a disturbance. Taking it as something to be known, when a sound is heard, you simply know the hearing and continue practicing with that. If there is no greed or hatred, no liking or disliking, the mind will be calm. Samādhi refers to stability, steadiness. Focusing the mind on one object also brings calm. Correctly applying the mind to what is occurring also brings calm. There is also the calm that comes from sustaining attention on a single object for a long time.

Vipassanā Samādhi is established if the Right View is present. If your view is right, if your thinking is right, if mindfulness is continuously connected, then Samādhi arises. In Vipassanā, you have to constantly maintain the connection of mindfulness. If you know continuously, Samādhi develops. If you are continuously knowing, you can't really think much. If you are maintaining the momentum of mindfulness, you can't indulge in random, wandering thoughts.

When practising meditation, one must understand that mental states arise according to conditions, and then the yogi observes them with mindful curiosity. Being mindful means relaxing the mind and being aware of it calmly and peacefully. When people practise meditation, they are often in the habit of putting in a great deal of effort. Because they have desires—wanting things to happen, wanting to attain something, wanting good experiences—yogis exert themselves forcefully.

In daily life, people are accustomed to doing everything with intense desire, greed, and excessive effort. Being used to this habit, even when they meditate, they want insight to arise, they want good experiences, and they want all the benefits that come from meditation practice. This is the nature of greed.

Sometimes a yogi practises with strong greed and thinks his or her effort is correct. He or she does not fully understand the nature of greed. Yogis often do not regard these desires related to meditation as greed; because the topic is meditation, they do not label it as such. But greed is very tricky. It also enters into meditation practice. What good things are there in meditation? Greed wants them all. That is the fundamental characteristic of greed.

When a yogi comes to the meditation centre, greed can no longer enjoy sensual pleasures; there is no opportunity for that here. So when one arrives at the centre, greed latches onto the blissful concentration (samādhi) that can be experienced.

If you practise with greed, it will not go well. That is why, when practising, I always remind you to be careful about how you are putting in effort. If you feel tired while meditating, the practice is no longer right. When practising with greed, a person becomes tense—both mentally and physically—and gets tired. People meditate to develop a peaceful mind, not to become exhausted. If this happens, it is not right practice; it is wrong practice. Practising with greed is wrong; practising with anger is wrong; practising recklessly out of ignorance is also wrong.

If you focus intently on thoughts, they stop; they cease. If the side of mindfulness is too strong, you can no longer think. Not being able to think, and thoughts stopping because of that, is not seeing “anicca.” Seeing arising and passing away means seeing something arise by itself and pass away by itself. Only by seeing it that way does one understand the nature of arising and the nature of passing away. Stopping because of focused attention is not the nature of passing away. That is preventing, interfering so that one cannot think. It has nothing to do with understanding the nature of passing away.

Because people don't like thoughts, no matter what thought arises, they observe it with forceful concentration. When they observe it like that, the thought just stops.

That's why I keep reminding you to just be aware without focusing intently. Keep the mind relaxed and just aware. Yogis, instead of just knowing, interfere with what is happening; they wrestle with it. People are accustomed to concentrating, so they don't understand "just know." "Just know" means that if you are just aware without interfering, that is enough. When practicing, if one doesn't yet know how to balance the effort, this tends to happen.

Can you manage to both think and be aware at the same time? Only when you can make both happen will you be able to practice in daily life. In daily life, you can't do anything without thinking. If, whenever the yogi thinks, the awareness disappears, and whenever there is awareness, you can't think, then what else could you do in life? You couldn't even sell things at the market.

When a buyer asks how much an item costs, you will think of the selling price. At that moment, if you then observe the thinking and the thought disappears or stops, what would you do? In the world, you can't do anything without thinking. That's why I say to just be aware of thoughts. Yogis don't want to observe thoughts at all. You must cultivate the habit of being aware of thoughts.

If thoughts stop because wisdom understands that a thought is unwholesome, that's one thing. If you know a thought has arisen and understand it as an unwholesome thought, it might also disappear. In that case, it's because wisdom has taken the lead. It's not disappearing because of forceful observation. It's because of wisdom that the defilement disappears, so you no longer continue the defiled thought; it will stop.

Some people say that when there are no thoughts, concentration is good, so they practice with a lot of effort to prevent thoughts from arising. A yogi who observes too forcefully can't think at all. In that way, the yogi doesn't know how to observe the mind. They don't understand the mind anymore.

If defilements are strong and wisdom is weak, you shouldn't observe thoughts directly. You should be aware of the feeling. If you go and observe the thought, you won't overcome it. If wisdom isn't strong enough yet, you can't overcome thoughts. The defilements providing the driving force are strong, so you will keep on thinking. At such times, be aware of the feeling, or be aware of the desire to think. This will be more manageable.

What I've just explained are ways of practicing meditation. It's important to understand what to do when different situations arise. Being skilled in meditation means being skilled in doing these things.

When some meditators practise, no matter what mind state arises, they focus intently on making it disappear. As a result, mind states do not get the opportunity to arise naturally. By focusing so intently on whatever arises, not only do unwholesome mind states fail to arise, but wholesome mind states also cannot arise. When a wholesome mind state arises, there may be pīti (joyful interest, enthusiasm, or rapture)—tingling sensations or goosebumps may appear. At that moment, when it arises, the meditator, following their usual habit of practice, focuses intently on it, and the arisen pīti also disappears. Through such intense focusing, the pīti vanishes.

Actually, pīti is the result of a wholesome mind state, a natural consequence of wholesomeness. If one wishes to observe the arising and passing away of pīti, one must see it within its own natural process—how it appears and disappears according to its own nature and momentum—in order to understand its impermanent nature. But because the yogi focuses so intently on pīti when it arises, it ceases. The meditator then becomes blank and dull. If you observe such meditators, they often appear blank and dull—almost like zombies. Whatever happens, because they are focusing so intensely, the mind becomes vacant and dull. There is no wisdom (ñāṇa) present; there is only dullness with ignorance (moha).

Think about it. The very act of meditating is itself a wholesome mind state. The resultant phenomenon that arises, such as pīti, is also a wholesome mind state. When these wholesome states come together, they should become even stronger. So why do they disappear instead? The reason is that the meditator is practising incorrectly by focusing too forcefully. When you focus too intensely, even wholesome mind states disappear. In fact, when contemplation occurs with a wholesome mind, wholesome mind states should naturally grow stronger.

In meditation, the practice works with the natural momentum of whatever arises. Wholesome mind states must be allowed to arise naturally. From the sidelines, you simply observe and remain aware of the arising and passing away—the appearing and disappearing—of whatever is happening.

It is similar to observing the intention to walk. When walking, intentions arise anew moment by moment, and bodily phenomena (rūpa) also arise and pass away moment by moment as the walking continues. If the intention to stop arises, the walking stops. But while the walking continues, the process unfolds continuously. Within this ongoing process, you observe the arising and passing away of whatever is happening. You do not interfere with the process. Without interfering with the natural unfolding, you observe from the sidelines and investigate. That is what meditation means.

What happens if you do not observe from the sidelines but instead interfere and get involved? It is like watching an opera. Instead of watching from the audience, you climb onto the stage and join the actors in the play. If you do that, the theatre security will quickly come and drag you away. You should simply watch what there is to see from the sidelines. Do not interfere or get involved. When you interfere, the play cannot continue. Do you understand?

Therefore, just be aware of it. Do not practise with excessive force, and do not focus too much. When you focus too much, you become stuck on the object and cannot see the nature of the mind.

Glossary

pīti — joyful interest, enthusiasm, rapture