December 2018

Greetings from Wat Buddha Dhamma, 10 Mile Hollow, Wisemans Ferry, NSW 2775, Australia; www.wbd.org.au

A colorful visitor

The annual 'Rainy Season Retreat' has now passed and the time for travelling has arrived. The Retreat period in the southern hemisphere corresponds to winter which is a suitable time to spend more time 'retreating' from the inclement weather. However, winter here is quite different than that of northern Europe or North America. This year we had about 10 days of light frost with temperatures not below -3C. The cold means that the skies are clear, so as soon as day breaks the sun is shining and the mid-day temperatures have climbed to 12-15C. The hut I am staying in has a large wood stove so I did not suffer too much from the cold. And then, suddenly, it was Spring! I had never been in Australia in springtime so it was a delightful surprise to see such a profusion of blossoms amongst the bushes and grasses which I had previously experienced as only irritatingly prickly and scratchy. As the weeks progressed flowers and blossoms appeared and disappeared, sometimes virtually overnight. As I write this in early December the tiny blossoms of the tea trees are scattering in the breezes just as the eucalyptus trees are coming into bloom.

Shortly before the Rains Retreat I made a trip north to attend the Vesak ceremony at Dhammagiri Monastery near Brisbane and visit my friends John and Hanna in northern NSW. Regular readers of this blog will recognize that both of these places were on my usual circuit of travels for the last few years, so it was once again a rewarding experience to meet up with old friends and familiar faces as I had not been there for two years.

Here at Wat Buddha Dhamma the Rainy Season Retreat period is a time devoted to more intensive formal meditation. Work projects were set aside and the dedicated community was led in eight hours of daily sitting and walking practice by Ajahn Khemavaro. The steady and consistent routine, together with the exceptional natural quiet of the monastery, are very conducive to supporting the experience of deeper states of calm and clarity. It was also very conducive to focussed work on my book project on the theme of 'I-making', which provided me with some profound material for reflection. In order to satisfactorily explain 'I-making' it was necessary to delve more deeply into some of the more detailed aspects of the Buddha's teaching, such as the Five Groups of Grasping and Dependent Origination. On the one hand they required some 'brain work' to research the material in the Pali Canon, however, on the other hand, they are also an extremely rich source for meditative reflection. Following several hours of evening study my morning meditations were often inspired by some quite amazing insights. Even with my perseverance, however, I was not able to make the deadline for next year's book printing by the generous supporters in Malaysia. No worries! I feel much better about having the time and space to do a thorough job, and continue to have material for deeper reflection.

Also the printing date would have imposed upon my next few travels. At the end of November/early December, Ajahn Khemavaro and I attended the Stupa Dedication Ceremony at Bodhinyanarama Monastery near Wellington, New Zealand. Here is a video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hTQI124YSng&feature=youtu.be

In mid-December I will attend the 100 years birth of LP Chah ceremony in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, together with a dozen of the senior western monks from monasteries around the world. From there I will travel on to Thailand for five weeks, giving several talks, spending a few weeks at Poo Jom Gom and participate in the LP Chah ceremony in Ubon. I then return to Australia via Singapore, where I will give several talks and a weekend retreat.

One of the themes from my studies which I continue to reflect upon is a discourse where the Buddha is quoted as saying that there are three ways to develop Calm and Insight meditation. That is, either develop Calm first followed by Insight, Insight first followed by Calm, or develop both Calm and Insight together. Just knowing this variety of approaches can help people to appreciate the wide range of techniques used by different meditation teachers. For example, some teachers give major precedence to Insight meditation while others emphasize the importance of Calm meditation. The main point to keep in mind, however, is that Buddhist meditation must encompass both Calm and Insight.

This can also be a useful guide for our own personal practice. Some situations in life are more conducive to the development of Calm meditation while others may be more conducive to Insight meditation. For example, if you find yourself in a situation where your life is quite busy and hectic, then it may be more useful to use this occasion to reflect upon how and why you feel disturbed or loose your calm, collectedness, rather than trying desperately to calm yourself down against the flood of impressions. At other times, if you have a period of less pressure and more free time available, then setting aside a few days for more formal Calm meditation exercises could help establish a deeper level of collectedness as a foundation for daily life practice.

My understanding of LP Chah's approach to meditation was that of developing Calm and Insight meditation together. His emphasis on the continuity of practice and adjusting practice to time and place very much support the careful and wise interweaving of Calm and Insight meditation as circumstances arise. In my own way I follow this approach with time for study a form of Insight meditation, while my meditations in the very quiet mornings are the practice of Calm meditation. In this way Insight infuses and supports Calm and Calm infuses and supports Insight.

Hopefully your practice of Calm and Insight continues to increasingly develop.

With Metta, and Blessings for a rewarding and beneficial New Year.

A flowering waratah, the state flower of New South Wales, in front of a gamia lily. 

May 2018

Greetings from Wat Buddha Dhamma, 10 Mile Hollow, Wisemans Ferry, NSW 2775, Australia; www.wbd.org.au

I arrived here in early March, escaping the hot season in Thailand, but arriving here during a cool, wet period. From daily highs of 35C we now had highs in the low 20s!

I have described Wat Buddha Dhamma in earlier blogs, but for those unfamiliar with the place I will mention some practical details. It is the oldest Forest Monastery in Australia, founded in 1978 by Else Ledermann (later Ayya Khema) and Phra Khantipalo. It is situated approximately 2 hours' drive north of Sydney, deep inside a National Park (Dharug-Yengo) and accessed through a locked gate and a 15 km dirt road. It was originally purchased as a meditation centre, and as a monastery it is a very quiet place, with few visitors.

The landscape is somewhat similar to that at Poo Jom Gom, an eroded sandstone plateau with numerous rocky outcrops and cliffs. The cliffs are also interspersed with various rocky-overhang 'caves', some of them quite spectacular with layers of golden sandstone, and some are honey-combed by erosion. The landscape, however, is much more forested and rugged than Poo Jom Gom.

Ayya Khema's hut built over a large rock.

As the address suggests, most of the 220 acres of the monastery property are situated in a 'hollow' or broad valley between the hills, extending up the slopes on the south and north sides. The sunny south slope is where the monk's hermitage is located, with six huts stacked up the rocky hill, two of them perched quite precariously amongst the rocks. The more shaded north slope has a habitable cave and an assortment of picturesque flora, and contains two steep, heavily-forested valleys with some massive trees. The western boundary cuts across the upper part of the valley and the eastern boundary is part of the Old Great North Road.

Ten Mile Hollow Valley, looking west.

The Great North Road originally ran from Sydney to near Newcastle in the Hunter River valley. It was constructed mainly by convict gangs between 1826 and 1836, but by the time it was nearing completion it had been superseded by coastal steamers. The Old Great North Road is a 43 km section which is preserved from north of Wisemans Ferry to Mount Manning. Closed to unauthorized motor vehicles, it has now become a walking and cycle track, with a camp ground at 10 Mile Hollow. The National Parks and Wildlife Service brochure states that the Old Great North Road 'features spectacular and beautifully preserved examples of convict-built stonework including buttresses, culverts, bridges and twelve meter-high retaining walls, some dating back to 1828.' Two kilometres from the monastery are the remains of the second oldest stone bridge on the Australian mainland, while near Wisemans Ferry is Devines Hill, where the road climbs the steep cliffs from the Hawkesbury river. This is where much of the 'spectacular … stonework' is located – quite an impressive feat, considering that the workers only had hand tools and were toiling in very harsh conditions.

Convict built stone bridge.

Besides the many kilometres of track on the Old Great North Road, there are a number of other tracks winding through the National Park as well as the access road to the monastery, which is also the access road to the power line towers stretching through the park. Otherwise much of the bush is not easily accessible except along the rocky outcrops. The Australian bush is not especially 'walker-friendly', with patches of dense undergrowth, wreathing vines and thick clumps of forest debris, not to mention the very prolific prickly, sharp and abrasive vegetation!

The main reason I have decided to spent some extended time here (I have a two-year visa) is my usual pursuit of trying to find a place which allows a suitable balance between physical exercise, mental exercise and spiritual exercise. Of course, everyone has their own preferences for the right balance, depending upon temperament. However, for me at the present time, Wat Buddha Dhamma offers the best possibilities to maintain this balance. There is more than enough space and sunshine for physical exercise, I have solar-powered electricity in my hut for evening study and the quiet environment is very suitable for spiritual exercises. The only 'distraction' from my mental exercise, i.e. study and writing, is that with so much sunshine it is quite enticing to spend more time outside than propped in front of a computer or hunched over a book!

I refer to these three types of exercise – physical exercise, mental exercise and spiritual exercise – because, as a shorthand method of reference, our sense of being is comprised of these three aspects, and unless spiritual practice infuses all three aspects it remains incomplete. In more detail, physical exercise is not simply muscle-building, endurance training or keeping in good physical shape. Rather, it is engaging with, studying and investigating the physicality of one's being. Keeping fit is one aspect, but it also includes studying the body and energy levels in different situations, developing increasing awareness of bodily sensations and investigating the constant changes inherent in physicality.

Mental exercises involve both an emotional and an intellectual element. Thus this is not simply gathering information from books to increase knowledge, but also investigating moods and emotions, particularly those arising from social interaction. Spiritual exercises, of course, involve development of the various meditation practices suggested by the Buddha.

My experience, simply explained, is that if these three aspects of our being are not engaged in a skilful and balanced way, disturbances in our being can arise. For example, I would say that if we do not engage with physicality in a skilful way, one of the dangers is developing an ungrounded, 'disembodied spirituality'. Not skilfully engaging with the emotional element can result in 'spiritual bypassing', while not engaging the intellectual element can lead to a free-floating type of spirituality.

On the positive side, we can say simply that a healthy body supports a healthy mind. True 'healthiness', of course, includes an exceptional degree of awareness of body and mind, understanding body-mind energetics and knowing their psychosomatic inter-relationship. Skilful mental exercises give direction and support for spiritual exercises. For example, I often find that the themes I have been studying provide nourishment for deeper insight during meditation, often in unexpected ways, since meditation can access levels of mind which are beyond our usual self-referencing conceptual mind. This can sometimes be quite frustrating when I am trying to compose a book, because the insights can be hard to conceptualize.

Perhaps needless to say, but the skilful development and careful balancing of these aspects of our being are what constitutes 'true' spiritual practice, similar to developing and balancing the Seven Factors of Awakening.

Wishing you further development and wisdom.

February 2018

Greetings from Wat Poo Jom Gom, NE Thailand.

As usual at this time of year; I have been spending much time in retreat mode in the quiet branch monastery of Wat Poo Jom Gom, close to the Mekong River. Most of the time I stay in a small cave near the top of the 'mountain', about 1 ½ hours walking distance from the main monastery complex. The principal benefits of residing here are the experiences of solitude and silence, and the possibility of spending much time in nature, either walking through the expansive national park or sitting quietly in a shady remote place. The simple, natural lifestyle makes for a very physical experience, helping to settle the mind into the present moment.

The cave is a specially protected environment, warm in the cold and cool in the heat, sheltered from the strong sunlight, rain and wind. However, I spend most of my time outside, enjoying the fresh air and some degree of sunshine. The 'winter' in Thailand is known as the cold season and is also the dry season, usually with little or no rain from November until April. 'Cold' is, of course, relative here. When the temperature drops below 20C it is 'cold', mainly because the houses and clothing are designed for the normally hot weather during most of the year. The north-east of Thailand also experiences a cool northerly wind, giving a significant wind-chill factor (especially in thin and sparse clothing).

Fire Fighting

The dry season is also the burning or 'fire season', when farmers burn off the remnants from various crops, rice stubble or the unused parts of the tapioca plants. Some of them, however, are maliciously lit in the National Park, either to clear off grassy meadows for cattle grazing, burn the leaf litter for mushroom gathering or force the bamboo to send out new edible shoots.

This year the fire season began unusually early. Already in December fires were ignited in the meadows near to the monk's huts. In early January several fires were lit to the east of my cave. Fortunately, since I was nearby and saw them early, I was able to extinguish them before much damage was done, although one of them got into the grassy meadow and scorched a large area. Both times I had just finished making my evening hot drinks and showering before retiring to the meditation platform on the top of the outcrop. This provides a 360-degree panoramic view down the Mekong River and across to the mountains of Laos. Unfortunately, it also gives a bird's eye view of any fires burning for many miles around, and in the dry season there are usually many, so the view is often obscured by the low-lying smoke.

Most of the fires burn slowly through the leaf litter, but once the fire gets into the tinder-dry grass of the meadows, there is little one can do, especially when it is fanned by gusting winds. For the fire in the meadow, the most I could do was scout downwind ahead of it (with smoke choking my lungs and stinging my eyes), and try to prevent it passing beyond the patches of rock which act as natural fire-breaks. Only where the flames were creeping against the wind or much reduced by sparse vegetation could I actively try to extinguish it. I soon discovered an effective method by patiently waiting for the wind to briefly die down or blow against the fire, then sweeping the flames towards the burned-out patches, or snuffing them out with my broom. I slowly worked my way along the periphery of the fire, painstakingly extinguishing every flame until I reached the furthest edge against the rocks. Then, with the last snuff of flame, it was suddenly totally dark! I stood there in silence and darkness for some minutes, until my eyes gradually adjusted to the faint starlight and I could see the expanse of the blackened meadow with the last few glowing embers scattered about. Fortunately, I had brought my headlamp with me from the cave, although it was a hundred meters across the meadow, safely placed on a large rock. A few stumbles and scratches later I recovered the lamp and made my way back to the cave.

Shortly after I returned from the Ajahn Chah memorial ceremony and a brief trip to Bangkok, the burning season took a more serious turn, with someone setting multiple fires around the adjacent area. One of them I only saw by the orange glow through the trees as it was growing dark. In the darkness it was hard to determine precisely where it was, but upon closer inspection I saw that there was a whole series of fires burning up the side of the opposite mountain and down in a nearby valley where there was one of the unoccupied caves. Although it seemed far away and was already quite dark, I decided that I should investigate further. A short scramble straight down the rocky hillside soon saw me involved in a two-hour marathon extinguishing fires in five separate places, although I had to give up on the biggest and most dangerous one which was blazing through the bamboo between massive blocks of stone. After two hours I was so exhausted that I could barely drag myself back to my lodging at the main hall for a drink of water, a cleansing wash and much-needed sleep.

I remained at my lodging in the main hall the next day to recover my strength. Then the following day, as I trekked back to my cave, I noticed a pall of smoke rising very near to my destination. By the time I arrived at my cave the adjacent forest was alight and streams of smoke were billowing across the plateau. I quickly extinguished the nearby fire, but then realised that it was spreading down the slope in all directions. Some three hours later, numb with exhaustion, hoarse from smoke inhalation and trembling from aching muscles, I crept back to my cave with just enough strength remaining for some drink, a wash and a long sleep.

Aliveness

One of the benefits from living close to nature for some length of time is that our senses begin to wake up. Especially if we are living in a rugged natural environment, we need to be continuously alert – to the changing environmental conditions, to potential danger and to our own physical situation. The main benefit of this is that we abide in the present moment much more, even though it may not always be comfortable. Our senses interact with sense impressions immediately and more simplistically than the conceptual mind. Thus we can also notice more easily when we do get lost in conceptualizing.

In contrast, when we live in a familiar domesticated environment our senses often go to sleep, since we do not need to use them so intensely. For example, towards the end of December, due initially to knee pain, I spent a few days staying in the guest hut beneath the sala. This was much more comfortable than staying in the cave, as I could close all the windows and be out of the cool wind in a consistently warm environment. I noticed, however, that with the reduction in physical sensation, as well as the sound of the wind, I was more often in my own head, with focus on thoughts rather than physical sensations. And many of those thoughts were concerned with plans for the future and memories of the past. When I wanted to know what time it was, I had to look at the clock rather than consult the direction of the sun or moon. The extreme, of course, is living in a busy city, where our senses often need to shut down due to being overwhelmed by stimulation. We are then forced even more to take refuge in our own minds, and when we find that unpleasant, to seek for distraction in amusement or entertainment.

Living in the present moment with the impact of sense consciousness can be very peaceful and mentally quieting. There is just this present moment experience, with no need to think about or elaborate on it. Also, we can use this occasion to observe the effects of sense stimulation on our changing moods. Some impressions are pleasant and attractive, and we may notice a tendency to want to hold on to them. Or they may trigger off memories of previously pleasant impressions. Most sense impressions are fairly neutral and we notice that they do not excite interest or revulsion. Here at Poo Jom Gom much of the scenery is unthreateningly unusual: strange rock formations, unordinary vegetation, unique patterns in the rocks, gnarled and twisted trees, etc. This can create an unusual state of mind – open and curious, yet silent and calm.

A Simple Life

Why did the Buddha recommend a simple lifestyle as a skilful basis for spiritual practice? The basic principle is that we have limited mental energy, and whatever we focus on has a strong influence over our being. If our attention is preoccupied with non-spiritual affairs, there is not much available for spiritual practice. This is also the basis for the stress of everyday life which challenges many people – they try to focus on some task, but much of their attention is distracted or diminished by other affairs which draw their attention. This could be some other task (if they are multi-tasking), some emotional conflict, or even some unresolved emotional trauma largely buried in the unconscious. If we at least do not over-burden our attention with a load of trivial mundane life tasks, we may begin to unpack the other sources of attention leakage and learn to patch -up these leaks.

The new meditation platform.

Ajahn Chah Ceremony

Of course, the main event this time of year is the Ajahn Chah Memorial Ceremony in mid-January. And this year was an especially memorable occasion, marking the 100 years since his birth. Thus many of the branch monasteries made an extra effort to attend, arriving with a number of monastics and lay-supporters. Since I am normally in Thailand at this time of year, I decided to make the accommodation space at Wat Pah Nanachat available for visitors and only arrived for the last day of the event, January 16^th. Besides the official events, there was also time for reconnecting with others from distant places.

Here are the links to the event (from last year) and the talks given this year:

 

https://youtu.be/vqv-vuKvolo

English Sangha Dhamma discourses

1) Ajahn Sucitto

https://youtu.be/cHGDLkzwVJc

2) Ajahn Pasanno

https://youtu.be/4gUbaaIrRfI

3) Ajahn Amaro

https://youtu.be/QF4JrnEVEVc

The Uncertain Future

Generally, my longer term plans are to spend more time in Australia, principally at Wat Buddha Dhamma, north of Sydney. Ajahn Khemavaro has offered to sponsor a two-year work visa for me, so presumably I should be there to work! Hopefully this will include work on my on-going book on 'I-making'. The application for this visa was more complex than first thought. Besides the mandatory health check, I also needed police clearance certificates from Australia, New Zealand and Thailand, due to having for extended periods in those countries. All this necessitated two extra trips to Bangkok (one was just overnight) and then return to PJG. However, it was not in vain and the visa was issued on Feb. 23^rd in time to book a flight to Sydney with Ajahn Khemavaro.

Wishing you all progress in the practice and a rewarding New Year.