Intention

The medium which bridges the two dimensions of sila, facilitating the translation of outward behavior into inner purity, is volition or cetanā. Volition is a mental factor common to every occasion of experience, a universal concomitant of every act of consciousness. It is the factor which makes experience teleological, i.e., oriented to a goal, since its specific function is to direct its associated factors towards the attainment of a particular end. All action (kamma), the Buddha teaches, is in essence volition, for the act itself is from the ultimate standpoint a manifestation of volition through one of the three doors of action — body, speech or mind: “It is volition, bhikkhus, that I call action. For having willed, one performs an action through body, speech, or mind.”
from http://www.accesstoinsight.org/lib/authors/bodhi/wheel259.html

The Pali word cetanā is variously translated as volition, choice, intention or will. In the Mahayana Buddhist tradition, the Abhidharma-samuccaya states:
What is cetanā? It is a mental activity that propels the mind forward. It has the function of making the mind settle on what is positive, negative, or indeterminate.

Can we identify this force called cetanā within ourselves? It’s partly our thought habits, partly our blind spots, and partly the things we “naturally” move towards and move away from.

The choices that we make are revealed, hour by hour, through our words and actions. For example, if we are extremely averse to confrontation, we may sidle away from difficult encounters. Sometimes the consequences are not serious, but sometimes we end up in places we’d really rather not be. If our cetanā were thoroughly trained towards the wholesome, things would unfold with less friction.

But our intentions are often mixed. We incline toward the wholesome, except in circumstances where we don’t; we love our comfort and this sometimes clouds our vision. We can train our minds to recognize what inclinations are moving behind our actions and words. This is a fruitful form of mindfulness; this is how we re-train ourselves toward freedom.

Conduct and character

Upon inspection sila thus reveals itself to be a two- dimensional quality: it contains an external dimension consisting in purification of conduct, and an internal dimension consisting in purification of character. However, in the Teaching of the Buddha, these two dimensions of experience, the internal and the external, are not torn apart and consigned to separate, self-sufficient domains. They are recognized, rather, to be two facets of a single whole, complementary poles of a unified field which mirror one another, implicate one another, and penetrate one another with their own respective potentialities of influence. Actions performed by body and speech are not, from the Buddhist standpoint, so many detachable appendages of a distinct spiritual essence, but concrete revelations of the states of mind which stand behind them as their activating source. And states of mind, in turn, do not remain closed up in a purely mental isolation, but spill forth according to the play of circumstances from the fountain of consciousness where they arise, through the channels of body, speech and thought, out into the world of inter-personally significant events. From the action we can infer the state of mind, and from the state of mind we can predict the probable course of action. The relationship between the two is as integral as that between a musical score and its orchestrated performance on the concert stage.
from http://www.accesstoinsight.org/lib/authors/bodhi/wheel259.html

Bhikkhu Bodhi states our situation beautifully. It brings to mind pointillist paintings like Seurat’s. Each of our actions, of body, speech or mind, is a dot of color; over the course of a day, we “paint” a tiny section of a larger canvas. As we train ourselves in non-harming, in truthfulness and in compassion, those dots become more pure, more clear, more beautiful. Gradually, the whole painting takes a coherent shape. The analogy fails after that, because the painting is never finished; every day there are subtle changes in one direction or another.

The only power we have is to try to make each dot, each action, as clearly wholesome as possible. What happened yesterday is gone; what’s coming tomorrow is only our current thought about it. But right now, with the weather, the people, the situation we find ourselves in, we can make beautiful art or we can act carelessly. Our actions and their results reveal our character; our character motivates our actions. Right now, today, what’s our intention? What’s the quality of our work?

Inner and outer conduct

The Pali word sila originally meant simply conduct. But in the context of the Buddhist spiritual training the term is used to signify only a specific kind of conduct, i.e., good conduct, and by an extension of meaning, the type of character for which such conduct stands, i.e., good character. Hence sila means both moral conduct, a body of habits governed by moral principles, and moral virtue, the interior quality the regular observance of these principles is intended to produce.

Both shades of meaning are essential to understand the place of sila in the spectrum of Buddhist discipline. Sila in the former sense consists in the non-transgression through body or speech of the basic precepts regulating the moral life. It is moral discipline in deed and word, beginning as the inhibition of immoral impulses seeking an outlet through body and speech, and developing into the habitual conformation to the principles of righteous conduct. But the full range of sila is not exhausted by mere outward behavioral control, for the term has in addition a deeper, more psychological significance. In this second sense sila is moral purity, the inner purification of character which results from a life consistently moulded upon moral principles. This aspect of sila places the stress on the subjective, motivational side of action. It looks not towards the outward act itself, but towards the rectitude of mind from which good conduct springs.
from http://www.accesstoinsight.org/lib/authors/bodhi/wheel259.html

When wholesome outer conduct becomes internalized, that is, as it becomes our norm through practice, our motives change. What we look for in the world and how we respond to the world – it all changes, slowly but inexorably. When we say someone has good character, this is what we’re talking about. By practicing sila (good conduct), we strengthen the roots (character) that forms the foundation of our being. This is how we (gradually) calm our hearts and feel confidence in our ways of being in the world. Anxiety melts away when we have a clear, wholesome idea of how to view any situation and how to respond to it.

Some people think that Buddhism equals meditation, but that is inaccurate. Sila is the foundation, the first development the Buddha recommended.

Nourishing the roots

Through this blog, I’ve been maintaining that the teachings of the Buddha that are the most useful to the most people are the ones about how to live among others, that is, guidelines for wholesome behavior. My thinking on this has only been strengthened by observation of myself and others. Without the foundation of wholesome actions, words and thoughts, our lives will be confusing and unhappy. AND attempts at meditation will be futile.

The faith aspect mentioned below could describe our desire to do the right thing.

…
Because the unwholesome tendencies and selfish clinging spring from seeds buried deep in the bottom-most strata of the mind, to eradicate these sources of affliction and nurture the growth of the liberating vision of reality the Buddha presents his teaching in the form of a gradual training. Buddhist discipline involves gradual practice and gradual attainment. It does not burst into completeness at a stroke, but like a tree or any other living organism, it unfolds organically, as a sequence of stages in which each stage rests upon its predecessor as its indispensable foundation and gives rise to its successor as its natural consequent. The principal stages of this gradual training are three: the training in sila or virtue, the training in samadhi or concentration, and the training in pañña or wisdom. If we follow through the comparison of the Buddhist discipline to a tree, faith (saddha) would be the seed, for it is faith that provides the initial impulse through which the training is taken up, and faith again that nourishes the training through every phase of its development. Virtue would be the roots, for it is virtue that gives grounding to our spiritual endeavors just as the roots give grounding to a tree. Concentration would be the trunk, the symbol of strength, non-vacillation, and stability. And wisdom would be the branches, which yield the flowers of enlightenment and the fruits of deliverance.

The vigour of the spiritual life, like the vigour of a tree, depends upon healthy roots. Just as a tree with weak and shallow roots cannot flourish but will grow up stunted, withered and barren, so a spiritual life devoid of strong roots will also have a stunted growth incapable of bearing fruit. To attempt to scale the higher stages of the path it is essential at the outset to nourish the proper roots of the path; otherwise the result will be frustration, disillusionment, and perhaps even danger. The roots of the path are the constituents of sila, the factors of moral virtue. These are the basis for meditation, the ground for all wisdom and higher achievement.
From http://www.accesstoinsight.org/lib/authors/bodhi/wheel259.html, Nourishing the Roots by Bhikkhu Bodhi

More next time…

Mayhem

What advice might the Buddha give us about the bombings in Boston last month? How can we understand and respond to heinous crimes?

Let’s think about all the ways in which we do respond (select any that apply): disbelief, confusion, anger tending to vengeance, resentment (a form of anger), sadness, generosity (donating money or blood or other things), appreciation for those helping the victims or the investigators, contemplation on the question of the event’s significance. We try to understand why people do irrational, unforgivable things.

Things like the Boston Marathon bombings are “not supposed to happen”. The first truth that the Buddha posited was the truth of dukkha – this life is full of things, large and small, that “are not supposed to happen”. We get old, we get sick, our loved ones are in trouble or in pain — the full catastrophe.

Our duty with respect to the first truth is to ACKNOWLEDGE it.

Suffering should be understood; the source and origin of suffering should be understood; the diversity of suffering should be understood; the result of suffering should be understood; the cessation of suffering should be understood; the way leading to the cessation of suffering should be understood.
- from AN 6.63, translated by Bikkhu Bodhi

Our tendency is to hold on to the idea that bad things shouldn’t happen, at least to innocent people. However, there is daily evidence that bad things happen to everyone, good and bad. Good things happen, too, but somehow we tend to overlook those things or take them for granted.

To what degree is our suffering caused by holding on to the idea that something shouldn’t happen? What would it feel like to resign ourselves to the fact that there will be more bombings, more shootings, that more people in Syria will die and be injured and displaced? One writer (Nate Silver in The Signal and the Noise) pointed out, long before the Boston bombing, that the USA had gone 11 years without any significant event that could be called a “terrorist” attack. From this he deduced not that there wouldn’t be anymore attacks, but that we were overdue. He pointed out that in Israel, bombings of cafes and buses are regular occurrences, and that people, for the most part, have adjusted.

And what of our personal tendency to want such acts to be avenged? In our hearts we may want to kill the perpetrators. We must notice and be on guard; these feelings can damage our hearts irreparably. Look deeply into the experience when it happens – understand the cause, recognize the clinging, and let go with wisdom. Otherwise, we’re giving the mayhem a home in our hearts.

Accomplishments

Bhikkhus, there are these five disasters. What five? Disaster due to [loss of] relatives, disaster due to [loss of] wealth, disaster due to illness, disaster regarding virtuous behavior, and disaster regarding view. It is not because of a disaster due to [loss of] relatives, or a disaster due to [loss of] wealth, or a disaster due to illness that with the breakup of the body, after death, beings are reborn in the plane of misery, in a bad destination, in the lower world, in hell. It is because of a disaster regarding virtuous behavior and a disaster regarding view that with the breakup of the body, after death, beings are reborn in the plane of misery, in a bad destination, in the lower world, in hell. These are the five disasters.

Bhikkhus, there are these five accomplishments. What five? Accomplishment in relatives, accomplishment in wealth, accomplishment in health, accomplishment in virtuous behaviour, and accomplishment in view. It is not because of accomplishment in relatives, accomplishment in wealth, or accomplishment in health that with the breakup of the the body, after death, beings are reborn in a good destination, in a heavenly world. It is because of accomplishment in virtuous behavior and accomplishment in view that with the breakup of the body, after death, beings are reborn in a good destination, in a a heavenly world. These are the five accomplishments.
AN 5.130, translated by Bhikkhu Bodhi

When the Buddha talks about what happens after we die, we can take it as describing the results of our actions in the future. We don’t need a clear idea of what happens after death to understand this point.

We often think that if things are going smoothly in our personal lives, it’s a sign of cosmic approval, and if severe difficulties befall us, we have a sense of “why me?”, protesting our innocence.

In the sutta above, the most important areas in which we hope for things to go well are listed – family, wealth and health. But if you look around, you’ll notice that good and bad things happen to good and bad people; if there’s a causal link here, it’s too obscure for our perception.

Virtuous behavior and view, or how we frame our experience, are the keys to setting our selves on a straight course. What we do in the world, for good or ill, creates a peaceful or a troubled heart; and how we frame our experience is a mighty influence on how we behave. If we see others as threats and annoyances, we’ll treat them as less than human, less than ourselves. If we see others as just as vulnerable and desirous of happiness as ourselves, then we’ll treat them as we would wish to be treated. In the long run, we can’t control our health, families, and wealth. But by training our minds and actions, a peaceful heart can be accomplished.

Generosity anywhere

From Sayadaw U Tejaniya’s book (transcribed from talks), Dhamma Everywhere:
There are so many opportunities to practice generosity (dāna) out in daily life. For example, you give way to a person who wants to get past you while you’re driving. Isn’t that dāna? Is it dāna only when you offer money? What about giving someone space? Moving over and giving the spot you were going to take for yourself is dāna. We are practicing dāna whenever we are giving.

When I was practicing in the market, I noticed that people didn’t really pay attention to where they were going because they were absorbed in their thoughts or counting money as they walked. We had a lot of people walking around anxious or lost in thoughts. They kept bumping into me so many times that I got upset! (Laughs) I had to keep moving out of their way. There was awareness present as I just gently moved over for them. As I kept moving out of people’s way, I found myself starting to enjoy giving over that space.

When you start to have awareness, you’ll see these things. What about smiling? Doesn’t that make the other person happy to see that? What’s easier on the eyes: a scowling face or a smiling face? So dāna is not just about money. Giving space is dāna too. Give what you can, if you can. Of course all of this depends on the quality of mind. If the mental state is negative, there’s nothing you’ll want to give. When mental qualities are wholesome, then it’s easier to give whenever someone needs or asks for something.

This developmental report from a Burmese meditation master shows that practicing generosity is not an occasional thing; it can be practiced at any time, anywhere. We can have an attitude of giving even before we get out of bed in the morning. Imagine the subtle but pervasive difference this could make! It represents a shift away from focusing on “my wants and needs, likes and dislikes” towards imagining ourselves making a positive difference for someone else, for anyone else we might encounter. We could re-set our radar in this direction and enjoy a significant improvement in our own happiness.

Another principle promoted by Sayadaw U Tejaniya is “watch and wait”. Often, the best way we can give to others is to check our reactivity; really look to see what is happening for other people instead of registering only our own knee-jerk likes and dislikes. Often, the kindest thing to do is observe sympathetically and keep quiet. Think on this. How sensitive are we to others’ needs relative to our own? Balancing this equation can bring peace, both within ourselves and in the world.