Friends, Romans, Countrymen...

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: Ajahn Sumedho, a senior western Buddhist monk, 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!

If all the above seems a trifle abstract, perhaps the following will help illustrate how awareness of silence can transform our everyday experiences. When listening to the sounds of nature I can hear a variety of noises in my Thai 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 (or whoever) 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.

The above post first appeared on the blog 'Forest Wisdom,' which was reborn as this one.

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I recently finished reading the British scientist Richard Dawkins’ book ‘The God Delusion’. In it, the Darwinian biologist decries theistic religion as being more trouble than its worth, inspiring conflict, bigotry, and ignorance. He cites many examples for each of these points, including the 9/11 attacks to illustrate God-inspired violence, anti-gay tirades by evangelical Christians, and the Creationist denial of the science-backed theory of evolution. He decries fundamentalists of any faith who take there scriptures as absolute truth inspired by God, rejecting scientific evidence in favor of dogmatic belief.



Dawkins criticizes those religionists that fill gaps in scientific knowledge with God, giving the example of the as yet unexplained evolution of the eye. In a kind of simpleton’s logic, many theists claim that because the eye’s evolution isn’t yet known, it must have been God that designed and made them! This is a sort of variation on the “God works in mysterious ways” declaration of religionists who can’t explain certain aspects of their own faith. ‘The God Delusion’ also criticizes scientists that believe in God, seeing them as not accepting the full implications of scientific knowledge, instead ignoring those aspects of it that contradict the belief in a supreme deity. In contrast to this, Dawkins promotes a quest for truth that involves open-minded investigation before the facts. So, how does Buddhism fare in all this? Dawkins himself does not consider Buddhism in the same class of religion as Christianity, Islam and Judaism, seeing it as more of an ethical system or philosophy of life. Indeed, Buddhism is only mentioned three times in the whole book, about the same number of times as Hinduism, and Dawkins doesn’t give a definite opinion on either of them.


Dawkins does have criticisms of monotheism, in comparison with which we might also take a look at Buddhism in the light of his scientific perspective. Does the Way of the Buddha promote conflict, bigotry, and ignorance as the British biologist says is found in the Bible and the Koran? Well, the Buddha promoted pacifism of course – as did Jesus Christ in the New Testament, arguably – and Buddhism is a famously tolerant faith, the Buddha himself sometimes advising people not to convert to Buddhism but retain their original faith. As for ignorance and deliberately turning a blind eye to any facts that contradict one’s beliefs, the Buddha taught us to investigate for ourselves whether his teachings are true. Indeed, ignorance, or avijja, is seen as the cause of our suffering, and is to be banished with the light of insight.


What of fundamentalism in Buddhism? Do Buddhists take the Tripitaka (Buddhist scriptures) literally, as absolute historical facts that must be believed in, say as many Christians view the Bible, or Muslims the Koran? Well, some may well do this, but generally speaking Buddhists see the Tripitaka as a set of teachings to reflect on, and use to develop wisdom regarding the impermanent, unsatisfying, and selfless nature of all phenomena. Whether the Buddha actually said or did exactly what it says in the Tripitaka isn’t really the point, as Ajahn Sumedho has often stated.


One way or another, ‘The God Delusion’ has inspired a lot of reflection in this Buddhist, encouraging the exact kind of investigation into the facts that Dawkins (like his hero Charles Darwin) has based his scientific career on. This investigative spirit is totally ion line with the Buddha’s teaching regarding the Dharma as ehipassiko, ‘inviting investigation’, rather than belief. For this alone, the book has been a wonderful read, prompting the continued search for the truth of the way things are – the Dharma. I thank Richard Dawkins for this, as well as the Lord Buddha, who has inspired millions of people through the centuries to see the truth for themselves.

Following on from reading Richard Dawkins’ book The God Delusion, here are some further reflections. Firstly, as a Buddhist who doesn’t believe in God, why discuss ‘Him’ at all? Well, considering that maybe two thirds of the world’s (human) population believes in a supreme deity of one description or another, it seems only wise to give ‘Him’ some thought. As a Buddhist I do not believe in God, however, unlike Professor Dawkins in The God Delusion, I do not actually disbelieve in God, either. Buddhism doesn’t require me to take either position, but if I did choose to believe in a personal god, that would be in contradiction to the teachings found in Buddhist Scripture. On the other hand, to actively disbelieve in such a deity is clinging to the opposite position, creating suffering around attaching to a concept. And in truth, it doesn’t really seem relevant to Buddhist practice to hold on to such belief or the rejection of it. As Ajahn Chah was so keen to say, “Let go! Let go!”


Returning to the point above, that most of the world’s people believe in a god, and that they do some pretty wonderful and terrible things as a result of their faith, how does this relate to Buddhism? Well, the Buddha didn’t always try to convert his new listeners to the Buddha Dharma, but actually supported them in the virtuous practice of the religion that they already were living. Such practices would have included those who believed in supreme deities, as well as the Jain community, who don’t believe in God, but do believe in a permanent soul (of sorts). This belief is in direct contrast to the Buddha’s teachings which state that all is impermanent, including our selves, whether we take them to be material, mental, or ‘spiritual’. Yet, if it suited the particular individual that he was addressing, the Buddha would not attempt to turn that person to the Buddha Dharma, but encourage them to perform their current religious duties to the best of their ability. Did Jesus, Muhammad, or any other founders of major religions say the same?


So, bearing in mind the Buddha’s above attitude towards those who weren’t ready, willing or able to adopt the Buddha Dharma, how should modern Buddhists respond to the idea of God, and those that make this idea the heart of their religious lives? Well, I can’t peak for any Buddhist but the one sat here typing these words, and his response to theists is one of tolerance and respect. The Buddha Dharma has helped me to tolerate the sometimes forceful opinions of theists, even when those opinions have severely criticized the Buddha, Buddhism and Buddhists. It has also enabled me to be respectful of people that hold different views to my own, focusing on the good things that their beliefs lead them to do and say. Christians, Muslims, Hindus, atheists and others have done much good in this world.


Some of you might think of all the bad that’s been done in the name of God, as Richard Dawkins does in his book, and to this I would respond with the following: There are bad Buddhists, doing some pretty awful things in the world. For example, there are Buddhists in Sri Lanka who have killed those they perceive as their enemies in the defense of Buddhism as well as for ethnic and nationalistic reasons. (Of course, equally evil acts have been done by Hindus on that island, and there are many good Buddhists living in Sri Lanka, as there are Hindus, Muslims, and Christians.) There are also bad atheists, who have killed in the name of atheistic and materialistic philosophies such as Stalinism, Maoism, or Nazism. Buddhists and atheists are potentially just as guilty of committing evil acts through clinging to views than those that believe in a god. Such is human nature.


The Buddha, unlike many of the world’s main religions’ founders did not claim to be related in some way to God. Jesus Christ is believed to have been God and the Son of God simultaneously; the Prophet Muhammad was said to have been inspired by God, and Hindus consider that Sri Krishna was an avatar (incarnation) of God. It’s not my place as a Buddhist to make some pronouncement about whose god was the real one – taking the conventional view that they can’t all be somehow right – nor is it my concern to state that they are all wrong. Both attitudes seem to smack of ego and a grasping of views. Incidentally, some mystics have taught that the various versions of God point to the same ultimate Reality, but again, focusing on the impermanent, unsatisfying, and selfless nature of everything, this doesn’t greatly interest me.


As a Buddhist, I consider it my duty to live in peace with those who live around me, whatever their religion or lack of one. The Buddha taught how we can extend metta (loving-kindness) to all sentient beings, not just Buddhists and cuddly rabbits, but also born-again Christians and snakes. There may be times that this mind is averse to what a theist might be saying, but I don’t have to act on that aversion; I can observe it, watching it arise, exist, and die, just like all phenomena. Replacing such aversion with metta towards whoever is present seems a truly noble and truly Buddhist thing to do. And I thank the Buddha and subsequent masters for teaching such a profound message.


The above post first appeared on the blog 'Forest Wisdom,' which was reborn as this one.

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One who sees dependent arising sees the Dharma;

One who sees the Dharma sees dependent arising.

(Majjhima Nikaya 28, Tripitaka)


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 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 that they have with human beings, as well as other animals. They have been trained, for instance, to stand on their hind legs and do a little dance when they want to eat a treat. This is a kind of conditioning. They have been conditioned to go for a walk and heed the call of nature around six-thirty in the morning, which caused a minor mishap this weekend when my wife and I had a lie in until past seven-thirty – one of them excreted on the kitchen floor!


Looking further afield and casting my gaze at a figure like Barak Obama, I can see that he too is a conditioned being; conditioned by birth, life experiences and beliefs to be an American, a Democrat, and to fear Islamic terrorism to the point of continuing the ‘war on terror’ instigated by his predecessor. In a sense, we can’t condemn President Obama for being himself – he was made that way. So too Osmana bin Laden, but he was conditioned very differently from the American President – born in a conservative Islamic state, with very different genes to the President 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)


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! Barak Obama is conditioned by his previous circumstances and actions, as is his nemesis Osmana bin Laden. My pet 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 to note 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, however, accept that we do have some level of free will; although just how free this will is hotly 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 (‘the-way-things-are’).


“This Dependent Arising, Ananda, is deep and it appears deep. It is through not understanding, not penetrating, this teaching that this world resembles a tangled ball of thread, a bird’s nest, a thicket of sedge or reed, and that people do not escape from the lower states of existence, from the course of woe and perdition, suffering from the round of rebirth.”

(The Buddha to his cousin Venerable Ananda, Digha Nikaya 15)


The popular British bhikkhu Ajahn Brahmavamso (‘Brahm’ for short) excels at explaining paticca-samuppada. He has explained that Dependent Arising is only thoroughly known by a Noble Person (ariya-puggala), someone who has reached one of the four stages of enlightenment. This is why, he says, there is so much misunderstanding regarding paticca-samuppada - and why so few contemporary Western and Eastern Buddhist ‘masters’ teach it! Ajahn Brahm is often asked how there is rebirth when Buddhism teaches that there is no soul to be reborn. He replies to this question by stating that the answer is Dependent Arising, for it is an empty process which flows from life to life, conditioned by the twelve forces that direct a life this way and that. In sequence, the twelve links of paticca-samuppada are: delusion (avijja), volitional formations (sankhara), consciousness (vinnana), name-and-form (nama-rupa), the six sense bases (salayatana), contact (phassa), feeling (vedana), desire (tanha), clinging (upadana), existence (bhava), birth (jati), aging-and-death, sorrow, lamentation, pain, grief, and despair (jara-maranam-soka-parideva-dukkha-domanassupayasa).

The venerable forest monk has explained that it is deluded karma (actions) and tanha (craving) that supply the ‘fuel’ for existence and rebirth in the form of the ‘stream of consciousness’ entering a new life. The Buddha explained this process in the following way:


“Karma is like a field, craving like moisture, and the stream of consciousness like the seed. When beings are blinded by delusion and fettered with craving, the stream of consciousness becomes established, and rebirth of a new seed takes place in the future.”

(Anguttara Nikaya III, 76)


Ajahn Brahm teaches that when one’s mindfulness is empowered by jhana (deep meditative concentration), the stream of conscious is revealed as ‘granular’, as tiny moments of consciousness, that like grains of sand are very close together but not actually touching. It is karma and craving that produce the impersonal forces that direct the journey of consciousness, much like the autopilot in an aircraft. Insight into this process enables one to see with certainty that consciousness is independent of the body and therefore can survive upon its demise, in the impersonal and soulless progression of paticca-samuppada. This is how rebirth occurs without a soul. But what exactly is the process by which awakening to the way things are (the Dharma) is achieved? As Ajahn Brahm is keen to point out, it is not by the various methods and philosophies that many modern teachers like to espouse each according to their own personal (and personality-dependent) opinions. It is in the Buddha’s teaching on Dependent Arising that we find the answer to this question. According to Buddhist tradition, he taught that it is with the ending of delusion that volitional formations cease, and that with the ending of the latter that consciousness ceases, all the way down the chain of twelve links to the ending of aging-and-death, sorrow, lamentation, pain, grief, and despair. This ‘ending’ (nirodha) is also known as Nirvana (Extinction), and Bodhi (Enlightenment, or Awakening) along with many other synonyms. To end this very brief description of Dependent Arising, a quotation from the classic Visuddhimagga:


“Mere suffering exists, but no one that suffers;

The deed is done, but no doer of the deed;

Nirvana is, but no one that enters it;

The Path is, but no traveler on it is seen.”


The above post first appeared on the blog 'Forest Wisdom,' which was reborn as this one.

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