Nibbāna
“Listen, Ānanda: a person who does not know, is not clear about, and does not understand Nibbāna should not teach others about Nibbāna. If such a person persists in teaching, he will lead others astray and make for himself a heavy moral responsibility (kamma). He should instruct others only in the ordinary human paths to welfare — for example, how to give (dāna), how to observe the Five Precepts or the Eight Precepts, the basic practices of wholesome conduct, how to care for parents, how to respect monastic preceptors and teachers, and how to cultivate meritorious deeds that benefit oneself and others. That alone may bring one the benefits of human happiness and heavenly bliss. But one who does not know Nibbāna ought not to be a teacher of Nibbāna at all. If one were to attempt to teach, what could he say? It would be like someone who has never been a craftsman — never a painter, never a writer, never a smith — and who claims to be a teacher: how could he demonstrate? He has no example to show with his own life, no living proof for others to see and understand. A teacher must first do; if he cannot do, he should not teach. If he insists on teaching nonetheless, he will cause ruin and mislead others — a grave moral wrongdoing.”
Two kinds of saññā (perceptions) are mentioned: one saññā of form (rūpa-saññā) and one saññā of name (nāma-saññā). That is: physical form and body (rūpa), and nāma — mind and mental factors. Do not take the body, the mind, or mental factors to be the self; do not regard them as yours. Everything, in truth, is external and not your own.
Rūpa means what can be perceived by the eye — composed of the elements (earth, water, wind, fire) — and is associated with the six sense bases: eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, and mind.
Nāma refers to what cannot be perceived by the eye — it consists of mind (citta) and mental factors (cetasika).
Rūpa and nāma together constitute “personhood” (the conventional “self”).
Saññā means the memory or recognition of what has been previously registered.
Citta (mind) is that which receives and cognizes the object (dhamma).
Cetasika (mental factors) are those that arise together with mind; they experience the object and express intention.
Rūpa and nāma are connected through the six sense bases, with viññāṇa serving as the linking function. When contact occurs at a sense-base, the corresponding consciousness transmits the object to the mind, which registers and judges it as liked or disliked; then the mental factors experience that object and store the impression.
Our sense of self — whether self of ourselves, of others, or of animals — is in reality only a heap of bones and matter alike. No one can find a permanent “essence,” a jewel, a ring, a piece of silver or gold that constitutes the self. There is no indestructible core that can be pointed to as the person’s mind or mental factors; all are anattā — not-self — lacking any fixed essence.
Anattā means “not-self” — not mine, not belonging to me; we cannot command it to conform to our wishes.
Being born, one thinks, is to be happy — yet true happiness is rare. If one is precise, one should say that birth is for suffering: to be born is to have illness and pain, disease and decay; to experience separation and loss; to seek happiness and seldom, finally, find it. Careful inspection shows that pleasures are too few to outweigh suffering.
Whoever desires Nibbāna should first practice the asubha recollections (contemplations on the loathsomeness/impurity of the body) until they are clearly seen and understood. If they do not see it directly, they should reflect on the repulsiveness of the body: even while alive the body is something to be loathed and felt aversion toward; remove the skin and what remains is truly disgusting like an impure corpse. If the body is still covered with skin, one can bear to look at it, but the essence of our person depends only on the breath (in-and-out). If breathing ceases, the body decays and becomes food for animals and worms. The very breath that sustains life is itself not-self: it is not “mine.” It lives when it lives, and it goes out when it goes out; we cannot command it at will. When the breath stops, the beauty of the body and all external goods — spouse, children, wealth, and possessions — vanish. One may find oneself alone in a grave with no companion. Practicing the asubha reflections leads to disgust with the body’s beauty, with external and internal forms alike, seeing them as putrid and decaying; this loosens the grip of craving. The wise should not take delight in their own or others’ forms — in male or female form, nor in fine possessions — for all loves are roots of defilement.
“Ānanda, one who knows but does not live accordingly cannot be called a knower, because no path or fruit arises from mere intellectual assent. I, the Tathāgata, have set down this Dhamma and discipline so that, when one sees what is harmful, one abandons it — not merely to hear it for amusement. Do not suppose that doing meritorious deeds alone will push you automatically into Nibbāna. Not so. Merits must be done to weaken and destroy craving; only then can one approach Nibbāna. The defilements and cravings are within us; if we do not extinguish them, who else can?
‘Defilement’ means what clouds or darkens the mind; these are: lobha (greed), dosa (hatred), moha (delusion), māna (conceit), and diṭṭhi (wrong view).
- Lobha is the excessive desire to possess (craving beyond one’s means): greed after sensual forms, sounds, smells, tastes, tactile objects, and also craving for property and wealth — things that the heart seeks but cannot fully possess.
- Dosa is anger: irritation, hostile action, the wish to harm others.
- Moha is delusion: confusion, misplaced love or hate, attachment to fame and rank, error born of ignorance.
- Māna is pride: self-conceit and contempt for others.
- Diṭṭhi is clinging to wrong views — inability to let go of false opinions.
There are two erroneous extremes of diṭṭhi:
Uccheda-diṭṭhi — the view that after death everything is utterly extinguished with no re-arising.
Sassatā-diṭṭhi — the view that a self or soul is eternal and unchanging; though the body perishes, some eternal self (ātman) or life-force remains and continues in other existences.
Taṇhā (craving) in its initial, weakened form is called chanda — mere desire. Chanda alone cannot cause the mind to be clouded. But craving that recurs and grows strong is called rāga — passion — which causes clinging and mental agitation. Such clinging drives the mind to seek sensory objects through the doors of sense.
“Ānanda, anyone who truly desires Nibbāna should investigate and know it clearly. Once they know, whether they reach it or not, they will not be distressed; but to desire without understanding brings great suffering. It is like someone craving an object they don’t know — even if the object is in view, they cannot seize it because they do not know it; their wanting remains unsatisfied and painful.
Those who desire Nibbāna but do not know what Nibbāna is suffer thus. It is incorrect to think, ‘If I merely desire, I will obtain it.’ Even someone who knows and strives diligently finds it hard. One who does not know and has never seen Nibbāna — how could he reach it? Even in crafts such as goldsmithing or carpentry, one must first see and learn by heart and eye before one can perform. Likewise, one who wants Nibbāna must first study and know it; wishful thinking without knowledge will not attain it. People should clearly learn the path to Nibbāna and not be negligent: if they wish to go, then go; if they do not, then do not. Once the mind is convinced and intent, one should practice the path to Nibbāna with confidence; success may come, or it may not — but the practice becomes a conditioning tendency (anusayika) for further progress.
“Ānanda, if one wants to know hell, heaven, and Nibbāna, one should come to know them while still alive. If one seeks to escape suffering in hell, one should strive to escape before death. Do not think that there is one kind of happiness in life and another after death — this is a grave error. There is one mind. While alive it is that mind; after death it is that same mind. If one experiences suffering in life, one may experience suffering after death; likewise for happiness.
Whoever does not make offerings, give alms, or observe precepts while alive is deluded. Whoever expects to secure happiness only after death, without practicing it in this life, is deluded. Whoever wishes to be free of suffering but does nothing while alive to become so, thinking escape will come only after death, is also deluded. Whoever thinks life and death are two entirely different states and that nothing now matters is deluded. Whoever thinks that while alive they need not know or see or be — but that after death that state will arise — is deluded. Whoever thinks, ‘If I am happy while alive, then after death I shall be happy’ is deluded. Whoever thinks, ‘If I am miserable while alive, it will be fine after death’ is deluded. Whoever thinks, ‘I do not care whether I have good or bad, happiness or suffering now; after death I will become whatever’ — who will verify such claims? — such a person is deluded.
“Ānanda, people who genuinely desire to be free from suffering or to attain happiness should secure it in this very life. If they rely on the future as their measure, they are deluded. Even for the highest happiness, Nibbāna, one should urgently strive to attain it while living.
“Ānanda, Nibbāna should be approached as one approaches the earth, Mother Earth. If you can make your mind like the earth, then you may be said to have reached crude Nibbāna. If you cannot, merely speaking of wanting it, however much you speak, will not attain it. To reach Nibbāna, one must make one’s mind like the earth — that is no easy task; it requires great effort. Those who think they can reach it just by saying so are deluded. Make your mind like the earth.
“The earth is acted upon by people and animals — harmed or helped, praised or blamed — yet the great earth does not feel anger or resentment. Making the mind like the earth means to let go, to stop clinging, to remember that we dwell here only temporarily. Do not follow others’ thoughts; understand that we are here merely awaiting death. What benefit is there in external possessions and in the body when the inner — the mind, the important factor — should be let go, laid down, not claimed as one’s own?
“Ānanda, to ‘let go’ of the mind means to abandon greed, hatred, and delusion; let go of liking and disliking. Whether one gains or loses wealth, rank or status, whether one is praised or blamed, whether one experiences pleasure or pain — do not rejoice, do not be distressed. As for necessities — food, clothing, shelter, medicine — relinquish greed and delusion toward them; be content with little. This does not mean refusing to eat or clothe oneself or take medicine; rather, do not be attached. Consume well when good is available; accept humble fare when that is what is available; but let not greed, hatred, and delusion cloud the heart. That is called letting go. If one still chooses factors that allow greed, hatred, and delusion to dominate, then the heart is still clinging and Nibbāna is not attainable. Only when greed, hatred, and delusion are relinquished concerning those factors can one be said to have made the mind like the earth.
“Whoever believes the mind is truly theirs is deluded. The mind is not really ‘ours.’ Were it ours, we could command it to be preserved and never to die. The mind is akin to breath arising within the world; it is not an owner’s exclusive possession. The world is set up before anyone is born; we come and inhabit the breath and the mind that follow. If the mind were strictly ours, who could cause it to arise again? This mind is not anyone’s private possession; it is something that exists for the world. Whoever takes birth uses that breath; when it arises, it becomes ‘their mind,’ but in truth it is common to the world. To speak of ‘one’s mind’ is only to indicate awareness of merit and demerit, of wholesome and unwholesome deeds, and to know suffering, happiness, heaven, and Nibbāna. When Nibbāna is attained, the mind must be returned to the world as it was. If one cannot let go, one cannot reach Nibbāna. Letting go — relinquishing — means renouncing pleasure and pain, merit and demerit, praise and blame, and abandoning greed, hatred, and delusion as if one had no heart at all. That is what it means to make the mind like the earth. If one cannot do this, do not expect to reach the supramundane Nibbāna.”