Paticca-Samuppada (Dependent Arising)

One who sees dependent arising sees the Dharma; 

One who sees the Dharma sees dependent arising. 

(Majjhima Nikaya 28, Tipitaka)

Recently, I’ve been drawn to reflecting on the important Buddhist teaching of paticca-samuppada, variously translated as ‘dependent origination’, ‘conditioned genesis’, ‘conditioned co-arising’, or ‘dependent arising’. It explains the conditioned nature of the self, without reference to a permanent soul or essence. It also explains life without recourse to a creator god, describing how various factors combine to influence present circumstances. A typical description of paticca-samuppada can be found in Anguttara Nikaya 3:61:

It is with ignorance (avijja) as a condition that formations (sankhara) come to be; with formations as a condition, consciousness (vinnana) comes to be; with consciousness as a condition, name and form (nama-rupa) come to be; with name and form as a condition, the six bases (salayatana) come to be; with the six bases as a condition, contact (phassa) comes to be; with contact as a condition, feeling (vedana) comes to be; with feeling as a condition, desire (tanha) comes to be; with desire as a condition, clinging (upadana) comes to be; with clinging as a condition, being (bhava) comes to be; with being as a condition, birth (jati) comes to be; with birth as a condition, aging and death (jara-marana) come to be, and also sorrow and lamentation, pain, grief and despair; that is how there is an origin to this whole mass of suffering (dukkha). This is called the Noble Truth of the Origin of Suffering.

We are conditioned beings. Looking at myself as an example, I can see that my thoughts and reactions to certain events are conditioned by my responses to similar previous situations. I respond to the world from the conditioning of my past, influenced by others, but grounded in my habitual responses. Even my being Buddhist is a conditioned state, dependent upon my personality, personal history, intellect, books, and some wonderful teachers, the first of which was the Lord Buddha. Physically, I am conditioned by my parents, by my diet, exercise (or lack of it), and my species.

Extending this insight to others, I can see that my dogs are conditioned by their genes, too, and by the relationships they have with human beings, as well as other animals. They been trained, for instance, to perform certain tricks when they want to eat treats. This is a kind of conditioning. They have been conditioned to go into the garden and heed the call of nature around six-thirty in the morning, which causes smelly problems if there is any major delay in this routine. 

Looking further afield and casting our gaze at a figure like Barack Obama, we can see that he too is a conditioned being; conditioned by birth, his life experiences and beliefs to become a Democrat, a liberal - by American standards - and to fear Islamic terrorism. In a sense, we can’t condemn President Obama for being himself – he was made that way. So too was Osmana bin Laden, but he was conditioned very differently from the American President – born in a conservative Islamic state, with very different genes to Barack Obama, and influenced by what he saw as the aggressive acts of foreign (‘infidel’) governments in places like Afghanistan and Iraq. Both men could be said to be doing what they’ve been conditioned to think is best for their respective peoples – yet look at the results! Mixed in with all this conditioning is the will (cetana in Pali). It too is conditioned, of course, but does retain an element of individual choice. After all, you could have two identical twins with near-identical histories but one will decide to eat strawberry ice cream, while the other has chocolate ice cream. Of the will, the Buddha said:

Will (cetana) I call action (karma).

(Anguttara Nikaya 6:63)

According to Buddhist teachings, action (karma) always has a result, whether it be positive, negative or neutral. Our actions, whether mental, verbal or physical, will have future consequences for us, the nature of which will be dependent on the type of act and the state of the mind, of the will, when we did them. If one is motivated by greed, hatred or delusion, the results of one’s actions will no doubt hurt others, but it will also (eventually) hurt oneself. As many Buddhists chant daily: I am the owner of my karma, heir to my karma, born of my karma, related to my karma, abide supported by my karma. Whatever karma I shall do, for good or for ill, of that I will be the heir.

So, dependent arising doesn’t relieve us of responsibility for our actions, but it does explain much about why we are predisposed to this and not that, preferring this response to any given situation and not another. I am the way I am because of conditions, one of which is being influenced by some great forest teachers – thankfully! Barack Obama is conditioned by his previous circumstances and actions, as was his nemesis Osmana bin Laden. My dogs are conditioned by their canine genes and the training they have received from my wife and I. And you, my dear reader, are conditioned by so many, many things and events, all of which together go to make up the person you are.

The choice that we face now, in the knowledge of all this conditioning, is how we respond to this knowledge. We might become fatalistic, like many Buddhists do, and think that it’s all been decided and that there’s nothing we can do to alter how things pan out. But this is belief in predestination, and the Buddha taught against this kind of fatalism, classifying it as niyativada (the doctrine of fate), which was a teaching that existed in India during the Buddha's lifetime, expounded by a certain Makkhali Ghosala. (It’s interesting that some modern scientists and Christian sects hold the view that everything is predestined, either due to natural conditions or the will of God.)

Most scientists, Christians, Buddhists and others accept that we do have some level of free will; although just how free this will is can be debated. Knowing paticca- samuppada assists our efforts to develop wisdom with regards to ourselves and others. It is, actually, a kind of positive conditioning itself, laying the foundations for further insights to arise in relation to the Dharma.

Review: Rude Awakenings, by Ajahn Sucitto & Nick Scott

Rude Awakenings is a life-changing book, not only giving insight into the grueling pilgrimage of a forest monk and layman across Northern India, but also the journeys they take within their own hearts. Written in the alternating voices of the more contemplative Ajahn Sucitto (abbot of Cittaviveka Forest Monastery in England), and the more outgoing naturalist Nick Scott, the book is an entertaining mix of travelogue, Buddhist history, meditative reflections, Indian cultural observations, geography, and personal conflicts.

Ajahn Sucitto, as might be expected, supplies the more insightful pieces, exploring not only the Indian backdrop and its inhabitants, but his own reactions and shortcomings. He isn’t scared to criticize his traveling companion either, at one point lamenting how Mr. Scott fumbles his way through the daily Buddhist chants, getting basic words like Buddha and Dhamma mixed up, and ending up with Bumma!

For his part, Nick Scott describes his constant struggles to get the two of them around the holy sights of Buddhism with woefully inadequate maps, and a prevalence to seek out difficult terrain in the desire to see Indian wildlife, rather than take the more direct route – much to the chagrin of the ajahn. Again, as with Ajahn Sucitto, Scott is very honest in his appraisal of his own mind states, admitting at one stage of the journey that he even endangered their lives with his behavior.

Constant everyday struggles include getting Ajahn Sucitto’s inflatable bed to inflate, finding suitable venues for sleeping, the constant barrage of questions form the inquisitive natives and the often comical attempts to find somewhere to eat before the noon deadline that the Buddhist monastic rules contain. The official bureaucracy of various Indian institutions often seemed to exist to thwart the duos attempts to fulfill the aspirations of the two pilgrims to see as much of Buddhism’s historical attractions. At one point, it seems they won’t get to see the supposed ashes of the Buddha, as they didn’t fill out the appropriate form – until an ingenious, if not ludicrous piece of lateral thinking gains them access.

The challenges that the two Englishmen face aren’t always so harmless, however, and towards the climax of the book they find themselves in a life threatening situation in bandit country that surrounds the place of the Buddha’s enlightenment, Bodh Gaya. This is a truly distressing event that can leave the reader genuinely wondering whether the both of them will get out it alive. The kindness displayed in the wake of this part of the tale balances out the harrowing accounts of the near fatal encounter in the woods of Bihar State.

So, all in all, this is an enthralling account of a journey through the places that the Buddha visited during his lifetime, including Lumbini (the Buddha’s birthplace), Kushinagar (the place that he died), and of course, the above mentioned Bodh Gaya. But, it is the inner travels of Ajahn Sucitto and Nick Scott that really capture the imagination and admiration of the reader, surrounded as they are with wonderful descriptions of India, its people, and the teachings and history of Buddhism. Once read, this book can stay with the reader for a long time afterwards, with the tastes and smells and raw emotions that the two pilgrims write of merging with one’s own memories as if one had been there with them. A life changing book, in deed.

Rude Awakenings: Two Englishmen on Foot in Buddhism’s Holy Land, by Ajahn Sucitto and Nick Scott was published by Wisdom Publications in 2006.

Haiku: Sudden Shower

Motionless

in a crevice of an old wall - 

a pregnant spider

(Shiki)

Heat in waves - 

in the stones

angry reverberations

(Kyotai)

Sudden shower

and rising from the heat,

the broken-down horse

(Kito)

Lightning!

fleeing up the wall,

the legs of a spider

(Kicho)

Sudden shower - 

clutching the blades of grass

a flock of sparrows

(Buson)

Down a paulownia tree

the rain comes trickling

across a cicada's belly

(Baishitsu)

The tree frog

riding the plantain leaf

sways

(Kikaku)

"It's much too long a day,"

opening its mouth

a crow

(Issa)

The above haiku are excerpted from a book by Stephen Addss, Fumiko Yamamoto & Akira Yamamoto. For a review of this fabulous collection of poetry, click here: Review: Haiku, An Anthology of Japanese Poems.

A Buddhist Reflection on Listening

Listen up, folks!

There are different levels of listening that normally we do not explore or even know of that well. This is because we’re so caught up in the world, with its many, many distractions that our desires feed on, sustaining themselves and begetting more desires. We’re too busy to stop and listen to the world around us, including the people we meet. In fact, we’re usually too preoccupied to listen to ourselves, never paying attention to these bodies and minds that we take to be our selves. If we do manage to wriggle free of the entanglements of the passions for a moment, however, we can learn to see things as they truly are and not as we take them to be. We can learn to listen.

Listening to the world: The visual sense is predominant for most of us, most of the time. We rely on it to identify and negotiate the world around us, and in doing so build up our worlds of delusion upon it. We see, we want, or we see, we dislike. Vision is so caught up in our desires and misconceptions of this life that it can take another sense all together to challenge those misconceptions. If we close our eyes right now and simply listen to the world, we can open the door of wisdom. What can you hear in this moment? I can hear insects in the tropical evening, as well as music flowing from the stereo speakers in the room that I’m writing. These sounds aren’t full of desire or delusion in them selves, are they? They’re simply what they are: sounds. It’s what we think and feel about them that make them appear pleasant or unpleasant, desirable or undesirable.

Listening to others: So often in life we don’t really listen to each other. We wait for the other person to cease talking so that we can air our views and opinions (no matter how misguided they may be). We don’t make the effort to actually listen to the other person’s tone of voice, choice of words, and what they’re talking about. We hear them, but don’t truly listen to them. We’re unaware of just how upset they are if we aren’t taking note of how they saying what they’re saying; they may be angry with us, frustrated with life, or making subtle invitations, but if we’re not attentive to them, we’ll miss all these signs. And then we’ll wonder how we missed what they were really saying. We’ll be astounded by our own ignorance, born of the fact that we didn’t listen to them.

Listening to ourselves: Not only do we fail to listen to others, including the ones we hold most dear, but we don’t even listen to ourselves. Our bodies produce all subtle (and unsubtle!) sounds, including the creaking of bones, the chewing of food, the swallowing reflex, and the sound of our breathing. Listening to the breath, for instance, we can determine if we are more agitated than we realize, or discover that we’re not as fit as we previously thought, panting like a randy poodle! The mind can be listened to also, in the sense that we can hear the silence that thoughts, feelings, and memories appear in. Ever had a song that sticks in the brain and repeats endlessly despite our wish that it didn’t? Well, next time that arises, try listening to the silence that surrounds it, and see what happens to the annoying tune.

Listening to the sound of silence: The American monk Ajahn Sumedho has for many years talked of ‘the sound of silence’, an inner sound that can be heard if one quiets the mind to the point that it opens up to the subtlest of noises. This sound is also called the ‘primal’ buzzing or hissing, and appears to be a kind of ringing inside the ears rather than outside of them. It’s a physical sound that isn’t ‘out there’, but rather ‘in here’. Listening to this sound has a calming affect on the mind and helps it to develop concentration also. It gives consciousness something less distracting to focus on, enabling one to let go of other noises as well as the ‘inner voice’ that normally rambles on about every little event that occurs in our lives. It leads us to the real silence that’s found not in tranquil surroundings, but within ourselves.

Listening to the silence: This silence is with us always. But usually we’re unaware of it because we never listen out for it. We don’t know where to look for this transcending silence: we never imagine that it could be found inside ourselves. Once we’ve become alive to it, we can focus on this silence and notice that all sounds arise in it, whether the sounds of nature or of humanity, whether outside of us or within us. This silence is ever present if we have the skill to listen to it. It’s a peace that we take with us everywhere we go, but are normally completely oblivious to it! It puts all our delusions and desires into perspective, as objects in audio-awareness. They lose a lot of their power to disturb us, seeming much less important in this sea of tranquility.

So, true silence is found whatever audio objects can be heard. Even in the deafening din of loud music, the silence is still here, as calm and unaffected as ever. If the mind can be turned away from particular noises to that in which they exist, then a radically different way of experiencing oneself and the world will be discovered. Those distracting sounds will lose their power to disrupt the contentment that lies at the very heart of every human being, and is waiting to be found and fed upon. For feeding on this silence leads us to our real home: peace. This can be achieved by truly listening to the world, others, ourselves, the ‘sound of silence’, and ultimately silence itself. And this silence is one that can never be disturbed, whatever the cacophony that inhabits it!

Review: In the Buddha's Words, by Bhikkhu Bodhi

There are several good translations available of parts of the Pali Canon (Buddhist Scriptures) in English. A recent addition to this growing list of extracts of the Tipitaka (another name for the Pali Canon) is called “In the Buddha’s Words” and is the work of the well-known and well-respected American monk Bhikkhu Bodhi. The book typically contains the usual translations of the Buddha’s teachings on suffering (dukkha), enlightenment (bodhi), the Buddhist Path (magga) etc. What is distinctive about this latest compilation is that it contains a broad sweep of teachings of the Buddha, not only focusing on renunciation and the ultimate goal of enlightenment, but also featuring subjects such as gaining present life happiness and a decent rebirth.

The Venerable Bodhi divides the Blessed One’s dispensation into chapters, some of which are called The Human Condition (life without Dharma; living in delusion from life to life), The Bringer of Light (the coming and development of the Buddha), The Path to Liberation (the Buddhist Way to enlightenment), and Mastering the Mind (meditation and mindfulness). Other chapters include The Happiness Visible in this Present Life which regards the fulfillment of moral and social duties that result in a content life. Bhikkhu Bodhi emphasizes in this part of the book that as the Buddha said himself, he came “for the welfare of the multitude, for the happiness of the multitude, out of compassion for the world, for the good, welfare, and happiness of gods and humans.” This chapter reveals the Buddha’s words on how laypeople can live in the world, showing the wise and compassionate ways that we can handle our various relationships in society towards parents, children, teachers, students, friends, and partners.

The book doesn’t ignore the pinnacle of the Buddha’s teachings, however, and the chapter entitled The Planes of Realization features many important sermons on the noble eightfold path (ariya-atthangika-magga) to awakening and the four types of noble person (ariya-puggala), who have entered the stream to enlightenment, and culminate in the arahant, an enlightened one. Shining the Light of Wisdom is a chapter focusing on the nature of both wisdom (panna) and nirvana, and includes many illuminating discourses on the five aggregates that make up experience and the somewhat complicated teaching of dependent origination (paticca- samuppada).

Bhikkhu Bodhi introduces each chapter with his own insightful comments, making clear how each part of the Buddha’s teachings fits into the scheme as a whole, organized as a progressive path from The Human Condition through to The Planes of Realization. He displays a depth of understanding of the Tipitaka that spans the aforementioned and previously well-covered subjects of renunciation and enlightenment as well as how to be happy in this current life, which has often been neglected by his predecessors.

The Buddha divided the progress of a Buddhist into three stages: pariyatti (study), patipatti (practice), and pativedha (‘penetration’ or realization). Reading too many books may well hold back practical progress and ‘penetration’ of the Buddhist truths, but one book that will complement both practice and realization is In the Buddha’s Words. This book gives us a clear and concise account of the teachings attributed to the Buddha, regarding the whole of his dispensation, and as such is a boon to both renunciant and layperson, whatever their level of practice. I strongly recommend it to anyone curious about the Buddha’s teachings.

The above book is published by Wisdom Books, and is available from their website here: In the Buddha's Words.

Listening to the Dharma in Nature

When listening to the sounds of nature I can hear a variety of noises in my neighborhood, produced by both creatures and natural forces. There are numerous species of birds, all singing their own particular songs. Insects make surprisingly loud noises, especially the cicadas in the tropical evening. Then there’s the sound of the wind rustling the foliage in the garden next door, which is a kind of unkempt mini-wood. Our neighbors’ dogs often bark either at passers-by or at each other. Sometimes I wonder if they’re howling at the ghosts that so many Thais believe in without question. (And such ghosts might exist – I’ve seen a few scary-looking individuals lurking the streets around here!)

All of these sounds are impermanent, however. Birdsong, for instance, occurs at specific times of day; it doesn’t go on all the time. Some species sing at the crack of dawn, while others sing at dusk – some are squawking now early in the afternoon. The fact that birdsong doesn’t last twenty-four hours a day is a sign that it is impermanent (anicca). Sounds such as the evening shrieking of the cicadas show impermanence in another aspect of their structure. They are not constant drones, but have gaps in between different segments of sound; they start-stop, start-stop, etc. They are impermanent in this way too, along with not lasting all day.

In the gaps that separate the creatures’ noises there is space. This space also can be seen (well, heard) prior to an animal’s call, as well as after the period of noise-making has stopped. Space contains the sounds of nature, including the rustling of leaves and the falling of rain. This space is non-judgmental in its nature. The mind, or personality, reacts to different sounds, liking the particular song of one species of bird, whilst on the other hand disliking the neighbor’s dog that barks late at night. Even in our negative responses to sound we can develop some wisdom, however – the howling dog shows just how unsatisfactory (dukkha) life can be! Space, on the other hand, simply contains all sounds, whether from nature or the human world (and what is the human world but an extension of nature, if we think about it?).

Through associating with the space by being the awareness that is conscious of sound, rather than identifying with being a particular person with specific likes and dislikes, one can become more open-minded. In this open-mindedness is an acceptance of the way things are (the Dharma). Moreover, by being the spacious awareness that is host to all phenomena (not only sound), one becomes more open-hearted, more compassionate and loving. Personal preference is less likely to dominate one’s relationship to the world, allowing for a deeper connection with the sounds, sights, tastes, smells, tactile and mental sensations that enter awareness.

This connection of spacious awareness to the world is not one of identifying with these various sense objects as being mine or not mine, likeable or dislikeable, because it is essentially an impersonal relationship. Even thoughts and feelings associated with being 'me' are objects in consciousness, they do not comprise a self (anatta). Being awake to this aware space is a liberating experience, freeing awareness from the prison of personality and ego. It also makes one appear as a nicer guy or gal to those that one meets, making their lives a little happier and less stressful.

So, in listening to the Dharma in nature, we can begin to recognize the way things are; they are impermanent, unsatisfactory, and not self (anicca, dukkha, and anatta.). We can learn to associate not with the personality that forever judges the world and its contents, but with the spacious awareness that is host to the myriad phenomena that make up this life. Extending this insight to all sense objects and not just sounds, we can radically alter our relationship to humanity as well as the natural world. One no longer sees oneself as just another person struggling against the natural and human obstacles to happiness, but the space in which such thoughts arise, along with all else. And this is the way to true happiness.

Layman Pang: Ultimate Attainment

"The past is already past - 

Don't try to regain it.

The present does not stay,

Don't try to touch it from moment to moment.

The future is not come,

Don't think about it beforehand.

With the three-times non-existent,

Mind is the same as Buddha-mind.

To silently function relying on Emptiness,

This is profundity of action.

Not the least dharma exists - 

Whatsoever comes to eye leave it be.

There are no commandments to be kept,

There is no filth to be cleansed.

With empty mind really penetrated,

The dharmas have no life.

When you can be like this,

You've completed the ultimate attainment."

Poem by Layman Pang (740-808), translated by Ruth Fuller Sasaki, Yoshitaka Iriya, and Dana Fraser. Taken from 'Zen Sourcebook' (p.59), edited by Stephen Addiss, with Stanley Lombardo and Judith Roitman. For a review of this book, please click here: Review: Zen Sourcebook