Heat, Following the Path, Perceptions and Views

I am now at Poo Jom Gom, staying in the Nibbana Cave where I resided earlier this year, and already half of my 'Rainy Season Retreat' has concluded. We are currently nine monastics in residence – six monks, one novice and two anagarikas – from seven different countries.

The Mekong River at high water. The foreground is Thailand the background Laos.

My last few days in Canada were quite eventful, though all proceeded smoothly due to the efforts and support of many people. Ajahn Tawatchai and the monks and supporters of BBM Thai temple in Burnaby were very welcoming, and a number of the Thai supporters, and those who came to the Friday evening talk made generous donations towards my travel expenses. On Saturday close to 100 people attended the day of meditation in Burnaby, and then some 40 people attended the four-hour teaching and meditation session on the Sunshine Coast, north-west of Vancouver. Recordings of some of these teachings can be found at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BGlUZRzXXYU&feature=youtu.be and https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JG8gBjWwZTQ. 

Anumodana to all the devoted helpers for these events, sponsoring the hire of the halls, providing the meal offerings and helping with other arrangements.

I arrived here at the end of August, naively believing that the worst of the heat would have passed. Surprise! Unfortunately, this year the cooling monsoon rains have been quite meagre and thus it has been unusually warm.

An approaching thunderstorm.

The journey down from the cave in the morning is relatively cool, even though I usually need to stop for a bath to wash the sweat off. However, the journey back up to the cave after the meal is a 'sweat bath' all the way. In fact I sweated so much that my sight became affected by the amount of salty sweat dripping into my eyes. A few times I was crossing the plateau as the sun beat down; even with an umbrella sheltering me, the sun baking down on the black rocks was like walking through a blast furnace. Several times I arrived at the cave feeling quite unwell with nausea and weakness, as if I were suffering from a minor case of heat stroke. A rest and some electrolyte drink returned me to normal. My usual route now is to follow the stream two thirds of the way up the valley, in order to have several cooling, cleansing baths before the ascent through some shady forest.

One of the bathing pools; note the stone bridge in the background.

As some people will remember from previous blogs the path from the Nibbana Cave crosses several rocky plateaus and winds through several forested areas. The pathway through the forested areas is relatively easy walking. Even though it is criss-crossed with tree roots (which often look like snakes), the rain has washed the sandy soil to make a series of irregular steps, the tree roots being the tread of the step. One needs to vary one's stride to fit the height, size and shape of each step, but at least the surface is stable and level.

'Snaky' steps in the forest.

The pathway across the plateau, however, is continuously uneven. It crosses a variety of rock formations, from gently undulating surfaces to sharply outlined ones with odd-shaped rocky protrusions or clearly defined valleys and ridges. It also winds around large boulders and patches of grass or shrubs, as well as climbing or dropping over steep slopes. Add to this the fact that most of the rock surface is covered in a black algae which bakes in the sunshine and is very slippery when wet, and one has a very interesting, if often challenging, walking environment.

The interesting path across the plateau.

On the morning of my second night in the cave I began my hour's walk down to the Main Hall at 4 a.m., just as lightning began flashing, with thunder rolling and the wind rising. Since it is much easier to cross the rocky plateau when the rocks are dry, I quickened my pace for the descent, hoping to keep ahead of the storm.

Fortunately, I was very familiar with the path from my previous stays, since it is extremely difficult to make out the way by sight when the rocks become wet. When the rocks are dry the details of the uneven surfaces become more pronounced, due to differences in the degree of light or darkness of the surface. However, when it is wet the surface becomes a more homogeneous darkness, which makes it hard to distinguish the depressions from the ridges. Some mornings I feel as if I am drunk as I stagger across the rocks, tripping on the higher parts and lurching into lower ones, all the time trying to keep the next marking cairn in sight.

Due to my familiarity with the path I could rely to some degree on memory and my previous experience of losing the way a number of times (and being the wiser for it) as a 'reality check' to help me stumble through the storm. I immediately noticed a relaxing in my attitude and more confidence that I would be able to manage the situation. This helped to allay the fear of uncertainty, 'Will I make it?' Since I had lost my way a few times before and still found my way back to the path, I knew that all would be well.

Having resources other than only sense impressions as a support for relating to reality is, of course, very helpful. I could thus make use of three of the Five Groups (khandha) which the Buddha said are the primary basis of a human being; that is, I could use eye-consciousness, perception/memory and the wisdom of experience (sankhara), without giving extra reference to physicality and feeling, although they were both also present. 

When we have a greater degree of knowing or wisdom we are less fearful, and thus less conflicted by disturbing mental states. Although memory and experience are both impermanent and non-self, they do provide some extra balance against having to over-rely on the very unreliable sense consciousness, especially in challenging situations where the senses are reaching the limit of their capacity.

A monsoon deluge from the shelter of the dry cave.

Not having a number of supportive references is, of course, the root cause of so much misunderstanding and distorted views. Many people receive an initial sense impression and immediately grasp that as the truth. This then becomes their personal view of the situation: 'This is how reality is'. And of course it becomes more problematic when this impression triggers some of our own unconscious memories or habit tendencies – if it conforms to our own views, it definitely must be true!

If we add to this an element of fear, or if a strong emotional reaction is stimulated, many people will easily believe whatever information they are fed. Bring up some especially emotive theme -- racism, social injustice, inequality, etc. – and people become 'emotionally hijacked', with their reflective capacities shutting down. Probably most of us have had the experience of being so overwhelmed by an emotional reaction that we cannot think straight, and any attempt at a rational discussion is a waste of time. We don't fully understand that these impressions are uncertain and that the perception of them has been filtered through our own subjective biases. We forget that they are just impressions, just one view of things.

If one agrees with or especially likes a view, it is highly likely that it is very similar to our own view on the matter, whether we know it or not. This is a useful way to get more insight into what views we have. Notice your reaction to views which you don't like; do they clash with your views?

Unfortunately, many 'Buddhists' are not exempt from this phenomenon. In spite of many teachings from the Buddha emphasising the unreliability of sense impressions, the importance of investigating the nature of sense contact and the dangers of holding fixed views, they still fall into the old habit of holding on to views of various kinds. Thus many people easily believe some clever speaker, or hold on fervently to rigid views about practice.

Many Buddhist meditators know (at least in theory) that the body and mind are non-self, and perhaps develop their meditations accordingly. However, few of them realise just how embedded self-identity is in the views we hold, either overtly or as inherent views about ourselves. Understanding this aspect of views is very important, since self-views are the most insidious tools of 'I-making' (the theme of my next book).

In the Udana scripture (Ch.6, Discourse 4) the Buddha tells the humorous story of a former king who had people born blind brought into contact with various parts of an elephant. When asked to describe what an elephant was, they each explained it according to the part they had examined and, becoming quite certain of their explanation, they soon starting disagreeing and quarrelling until that they came to blows, much to the amusement of the king.

Now, if these blind people had decided to share their individual experiences, they might have been able to get the whole picture of an elephant. This, of course, is the best policy regarding individual views. If we are able to listen to each other's views, we are able to get the bigger picture of reality. The Buddha understood this very well, and suggested that for the smooth running of the Sangha, its members should have frequent and harmonious meetings to discuss issues. This is also one of the foundations of the Ajahn Chah tradition, which has allowed quite an array of different personalities to cooperate for the common good.

If one knows how unreliable sense impressions are and has other sources of reference such as previous experience or memory, or some clear understanding, knowledge or wisdom,one is less inclined to grasp initial impressions so unquestioningly. Thus one does not need to hold on to beliefs and is less easily swayed by other people's clever views.

To help gain a wider range of resources it can be useful to engage in some reflection on what we are experiencing. The first thing to do about any sense impression is to determine just how accurate the information is. Re-confirm those sights, sounds, smells, tastes, bodily sensations and mental phenomena which we have received. Have we really received them accurately? A significant example these days is reading something off the internet, even our own emails. Next time you read something from the internet, ask yourself, 'Did I read this correctly?'. Then read it again. Was it the same? Now try to summarise what you have read in your own words, and check it again with the article.

The second thing is to check our perception of the impression. How precise is that? Is it familiar or is it different than previous memories? Does this perception conform to other people's perceptions? And then, thirdly, is our conclusion or view reasonably coherent and logical, or is it overlaid with (unconscious) emotional issues? What is our particular reaction to this understanding of what we are experiencing?

Thus we may gradually be able to abide in the viewing, knowing full well that views are fluid, and that holding to any of them becomes the fertile ground for self to grow.