I. The Reasons for Taking Refuge

When
it is said that the practice of the Awakened One with Awareness’s
teaching starts with taking refuge, this immediately raises an important
question. The question is: “What need do we have for a refuge?” A
refuge is a person, place, or thing giving protection from harm and
danger. So when we begin a practice by going for refuge, this implies
that the practice is intended to protect us from harm and danger. Our
original question as to the need for a refuge can thus be translated
into another question: “What is the harm and danger from which we need
to be protected?” If we look at our lives in review we may not see
ourselves exposed to any imminent personal danger. Our jobs may be
steady, our health good, our families well-provided for, our resources
adequate, and all this we may think gives us sufficient reason for
considering ourselves secure. In such a case the going for refuge
becomes entirely superfluous.

To understand the need for a refuge
we must learn to see our position as it really is; that is, to see it
accurately and against its total background. From the Buddhist
perspective the human situation is similar to an iceberg:

a
small fraction of its mass appears above the surface, the vast
substratum remains below, hidden out of view. Owing to the limits of our
mental vision our insight fails to penetrate beneath the surface crust,
to see our situation in its underlying depths. But there is no need to
speak of what we cannot see; even what is immediately visible to us we
rarely perceive with accuracy. The Buddha teaches that cognition is
subservient to wish. In subtle ways concealed from ourselves our desires
condition our perceptions, twisting them to fit into the mould they
themselves want to impose. Thus our minds work by way of selection and
exclusion. We take note of those things agreeable to our
pre-conceptions; we blot out or distort those that threaten to throw
them into disarray.

From the standpoint of a deeper, more
comprehensive understanding the sense of security we ordinarily enjoy
comes to view as a false security sustained by unawareness and the
mind’s capacity for subterfuge. Our position appears impregnable only
because of the limitations and distortions of our outlook. The real way
to safety, however, lies through correct insight, not through wishful
thinking. To reach beyond fear and danger we must sharpen and widen our
vision. We have to pierce through the deceptions that lull us into a
comfortable complacency, to take a straight look down into the depths of
our existence, without turning away uneasily or running after
distractions. When we do so, it becomes increasingly clear that we move
across a narrow footpath at the edge of a perilous abyss. In the words
of the Buddha we are like a traveler passing through a thick forest
bordered by a swamp and precipice; like a man swept away by a stream
seeking safety by clutching at reeds; like a sailor crossing a turbulent
ocean; or like a man pursued by venomous snakes and murderous enemies.
The dangers to which we are exposed may not always be immediately
evident to us. Very often they are subtle, camouflaged, difficult to
detect. But though we may not see them straightaway the plain fact
remains that they are there all the same. If we wish to get free from
them we must first make the effort to recognize them for what they are.
This, however, calls for courage and determination.

“But how, dear sir, did you cross over the flood without pushing forward, without staying in place?”

“When
I pushed forward, I was whirled about. When I stayed in place, I sank.
And so I crossed over the flood without pushing forward, without staying
in place.”

[The devata:]

At long last I see
a brahman, totally unbound,
who     without pushing forward,
without staying in place,
has crossed     over
the entanglements
of the world.
That
is what the devata said. The Teacher approved. Realizing that “The
Teacher has approved of me,” she bowed down to him, circumambulated him —
keeping him to her right — and then vanished right there.
[3:59 AM,
4/17/2020] Manju: Those who practice the Dhamma will begin to know the
Dhamma or to gain a feel for the Dhamma in the area of meditation more
markedly than in other areas, and more extensively. For example, the
gratification that comes from being generous is moving in one way, the
gratification that comes from maintaining the precepts is moving in
another way, the feelings of gratification that come from the different
forms of goodness are moving in their own separate ways. This is called
finding gratification in skillfulness.

But all of these feelings
of gratification converge in the practice of meditation. We begin to
feel moved from the moment the mind begins to grow still, when the heart
gathers its currents together to stand solely on its own. Even though
we may not yet obtain a great deal of stillness from the inward
gathering of the mind, we still find ourselves gratified within, in a
way we can clearly sense. If the mind or the Dhamma were a material
object, there wouldn’t be anyone in the world who wouldn’t respect the
religion, because the goodness, the well-being, and the marvels that
arise from the religion and from the practicing in line with the
teachings of the religion are things desired the world over.

Goodness,
well-being, marvels: These are things the world has always desired from
time immemorial — with a desire that has never lost its taste — and
they are things that will always be desired until the world loses its
meaning, or until people become extinct, having no more sense of good
and evil. That’s when the world will no longer aspire for these great
blessings. The well-being that comes from the marvels — the Dhamma in
the area of its results — is something to which all living beings
aspire, simply that their abilities differ, so that some attain their
aspirations, while others don’t.

But the Dhamma can’t be
displayed for the world to perceive with its senses of sight, hearing,
smell, taste, or touch in the way other things can. Even though there
may be other immaterial phenomena similar to the Dhamma — such as smells
— still they aren’t like the true Dhamma that is touched by the hearts
of those who have practiced it. If the Dhamma could be displayed like
material objects, there is no doubt but that the human world would have
to respect the religion for the sake of that Dhamma. This is because the
Dhamma is something more marvelous than anything else. In all the three
levels of existence, there is no greater marvel than in the Dhamma.

The
Dhamma can appear as a marvel, conspicuous and clear in the mind. The
mind is what knows it — and only the mind. It can’t be displayed in
general like material objects, as when we take things out to admire or
to show off to others. The Dhamma can’t possibly be displayed like
material objects. This is what makes the world lack interest — and lack
the things that could be hoped from the Dhamma — in a way that is really
a shame.

Even those who want the marvel of the Dhamma don’t know
what the marvel is, or what the profundity of the Dhamma is, because
the mind has never had contact with that profundity. The eye has never
had contact with the marvel. The ear has never obtained any marvel from
the current of the Dhamma, because the Dhamma can’t be displayed as a
current of sound as other things can. This is one obstacle that prevents
people from becoming moved by the Dhamma, that prevents them from fully
believing and fully entrusting themselves to the Dhamma in a way
consistent with the world’s long-felt hunger for well-being and
prosperity.

Each of the Buddhas who has gained Awakening and
taught the Dhamma to the world has had to reflect to the full extent of
his intelligence and ability on the myriad ways of teaching the Dhamma
to the world so that the world could see it as a marvel, inasmuch as the
Dhamma can’t be put in shop windows or in public places. This is
because the true Dhamma lies in the heart and reveals itself only in
words and deeds, which doesn’t excite a gratifying sense of absorption
in the same way as touching the Dhamma directly with the heart.

Because
there is no way to display the Dhamma directly, the Buddhas display it
indirectly through teaching. They point out the causes — the Dhamma of
conduct and practices leading to the Dhamma of results at this or that
point or this or that level; and at the same time they proclaim the
results — the excellence, the marvels of the stages and levels of the
Dhamma that can be touched with the heart, all the way to the highest
marvel, vimutti, the mental release called nibbana within the heart.

Every
Buddha has to devise strategies in teaching the Dhamma so as to bring
that marvel out to the world by using various modes of speech and
conduct — for example, describing the Dhamma and showing the conduct of
the Dhamma as being like this and that — but the actual Dhamma can’t be
shown. It is something known exclusively in the heart, in the way in
which each Buddha and each arahant possesses this marvel. None of the
Buddhas, none of the arahants who possess this marvel are in any way
deficient in this regard.

The marvel lies in their hearts —
simply that they can’t take the marvel that appears there and display it
in the full measure of its wonder. Thus they devise strategies for
displaying it in their actions, which are simply attributes of the
Dhamma, not the actual Dhamma itself. For instance, the doctrine they
teach in the texts is simply an attribute of the Dhamma. Their act of
teaching is also just an attribute of the Dhamma. The actual Dhamma is
when a meditator or a person who listens to their teachings about the
Dhamma follows the Dhamma in practice and touches it stage by stage
within his or her own heart. This is called beginning to make contact
with the actual Dhamma, step by step. However much contact is made, it
gives a sense of gratification felt exclusively within the heart of the
person who has gained that contact through his or her own practice.

When
it comes to ingenuity in teaching, no one excels the Buddhas. Even so,
they reveal only what they see as appropriate for humanity. They can’t
reveal the actual Dhamma — for example, by taking out the true marvel in
their hearts and unfolding it for the world to see, saying, ‘This is
the marvel of the Tathagata, of each Buddha. Do you see it?’ This can’t
be done, for here we’re talking about the marvel of the purity of a
heart that was previously swamped with defilement like a heap of
assorted excrement, but now has become a pure, unsullied nature, or a
pure, amazing nature because of the practice of constantly and
relentlessly cleansing it. They can’t show that Dhamma to the world,
saying, ‘Do you see this? Look at it. Look at it. Feast your eyes till
they’re full and then strive to make this treasure your own!’ So
instead, they teach by using various strategies for those who practice,
describing the path in full detail, in terms both of causes and of
results.

What they bring out to show is simply the current of
their voices, the breath of their mouths. That’s what they bring out to
speak, simply the breath of their mouths. They can’t bring out the real
thing. For example, when they say, ‘It’s marvelous like this,’ it’s just
sound. The marvelous nature itself can’t be brought out. All they can
bring out is the action of saying, ‘That nature is marvelous,’ so that
we can speculate for ourselves as to what that marvel is like. Even
though this doesn’t remove our doubts, it’s better than if we had never
heard about it at all.

But the basic principle in making us come
to know and see the marvel of the Dhamma is that first we have to
speculate and then we follow with practice. This qualifies as following
the principles of the Dhamma the Buddha taught, and this is fitting and
proper. No matter what the difficulties and hardships encountered in
following the path, we shouldn’t let them form barriers to our progress,
because this is where the path lies. There are no other byways that can
take us easily to the goal. If our practice is difficult, we have to
stick with it. If it’s painful, we have to bear it, because it’s a duty
we have to perform, a burden we have to carry while working so as to
attain our aims.

The Dhamma of a pure mind is like this: The mind
is the Dhamma, the Dhamma is the mind. We call it a mind only as long
as it is still with the body and khandhas. Only then can we call it a
pure mind, the mind of a Buddha, or the mind of an arahant. After it
passes from the body and khandhas, there is no conventional reality to
which it can be compared, and so we can’t call it anything at all.

No
matter how marvelous that nature, no matter how much it may be ours,
there is no possible way we can use conventional realities to describe
it or to make comparisons, because that Dhamma, that realm of release,
has no conventions against which to measure things or make comparisons.
It’s the same as if we were in outer space: Which way is north, which
way is south, we don’t know. If we’re on Earth, we can say ‘east,’
‘west,’ ‘north,’ and ’south’ because there are things that we can
observe and compare so as to tell which direction lies which way. We
take the Earth as our standard. ‘High’ and ‘low’ depend on the Earth as
their frame of reference. How much higher than this, lower than this,
north of this, south of this: These things we can say.

But if
we’re out in outer space, there is no standard by which we can measure
things, and so we can’t say. Or as when we go up in an airplane: We
can’t tell how fast or how slow we’re going. When we pass a cloud, we
can tell that we’re going fast, but if we depend simply on our eyesight,
we’re sure to think that the speed of the airplane is nowhere near the
speed of a car. We can clearly see how deceptive our eyesight is in just
this way. When we ride in a car, the trees on both sides of the road
look as if they were falling in together down on the road behind us.
Actually, they stay their separate selves. It’s simply that the car runs
past them. Since there are things that we sense, that lie close enough
for comparison, it seems as if the car were going really fast.

As
for the airplane, there’s nothing to make comparisons with, so it looks
as if the plane were dawdling along, as if it were going slower than a
car, even though it’s actually many times faster.

This is how it
is when we compare the mind of an ordinary run-of-the-mill person with
the mind of the Buddha. Whatever the Buddha says is good and excellent,
we ordinary people tend to say that it’s not. Whatever we like, no
matter how vile, we say that it’s good. We don’t admit the truth, in the
same way as thinking that a car goes faster than an airplane.

The
practice of attending to the mind is something very important. Try to
develop mindfulness (sati) and discernment so that they can keep up with
the things that come and entangle the mind. By and large, the heart
itself is the instigator, creating trouble continually, relentlessly. We
then fall for the preoccupations the heart turns out — and this makes
us agitated, upset, and saddened, all because of the thoughts formed by
the heart.

These come from the heart itself, and the heart itself
is what falls for them, saying that this is this, and that is that,
even though the things it names ‘this’ and ‘that’ merely exist in line
with their nature. They have no meaning in and of themselves, that they
are like ‘’this’ or ‘that.’ The mind simply gives them meanings, and
then falls for its own meanings, making itself glad or sad over those
things without end. Thus the stress and suffering that result from
thought-formations have no end, no point of resolution, just as if we
were floating adrift in the middle of the sea waiting to breathe our
last breath.

The Buddhas all reached Awakening here in this human
world because the human world is rich in the Noble Truths. It’s where
they are plain to see. The Noble Truth of stress (dukkha) lies in the
human body. Human beings know about stress — because they’re smarter
than common animals. The Noble Truth of the origin of stress: This lies
in the human heart. The Noble Truth of the path — the path of practice
to cure defilement (kilesa), craving (tanha), and mental effluents
(asava), which are the things that produce stress: This, human beings
also know. What is the path? To put it briefly: virtue, concentration,
and discernment. These things human beings know and can put into
practice. The Noble Truth of the cessation of stress: This, human beings
also know. No matter which of these truths, all human beings know them —
although they may not know how to behave toward them or take interest
in behaving in line with them, in which case there is no way the Dhamma
can help them at all.

The Buddhas thus taught the Dhamma in the
human world, because the human world lies in the center of all the
levels of existence. We have been born in the center of existence, in
the midst of the religion. We should conform correctly to the central
point of the religion, so as to comprehend the religion’s teachings that
lie in the center of our heart.

The superlative Dhamma lies
right here. It doesn’t lie anywhere else. The mind is what can reach the
Dhamma. The mind is what knows all dhammas. The affairs of the Dhamma,
then, do not lie beyond the mind, which is a fitting vessel for them.
Good, evil, pleasure, pain: The mind knows these things before anything
else knows them, so we should develop mindfulness and discernment to be
resourceful, to keep up with the events that are always becoming
involved with the mind in the course of each day.

If we’re intent
on investigating the origin of stress, which fans out from our various
thought-formations, we will find that it arises without stop. It arises
right here in the mind. It’s fashioned right here. Even though we try to
make it quiet, it won’t be still. Why? Because of the ‘unquietness’,
the thoughts with which the mind disturbs itself, which it forms and
sends out towards its preoccupations (arammana) all the time. Once the
mind sends out its thoughts, it then gathers in stress for itself. It
keeps at it, in and out like this. What goes out is the origin of
stress, and what comes back in is stress. In other words, thoughts form
and go out as the origin of stress, and when the results come back to
the heart, they’re stressful. These things are constantly being
manufactured like this all the time.

When we want the mind to
have even just a little bit of calm, we really have to force it; and
even then these things still manage to drive the mind into forming
thoughts whenever we let down our guard. This is how it is with the
origin of stress, which is constantly producing suffering. It lies in
the heart and is always arising. For this reason, we must use
mindfulness and discernment to diagnose and remedy the origin of stress,
to keep an eye out for it, and to snuff it out right there, without
being negligent. Wherever we sit or stand — whatever our activity — we
keep watch over this point, with mindfulness alert to it, and
discernment unraveling it so as to know it constantly for what it truly
is.

All those who practice to remove defilement practice in this
way. In particular, those who are ordained practice by going into the
forest to look for a place conducive to their striving in order to wipe
out this very enemy. Even when they stay in inhabited areas, or wherever
they go, wherever they stay, they keep their attention focused
continually, step by step, on the persistent effort to remove and
demolish the origin of stress, which is a splinter, a thorn in the
heart. Such people are bound to develop more and more ease and
well-being, step by step, in proportion to the persistence of their
striving.

We can see clearly when the mind is still and settles
down: Thought-formations are still, or don’t exist. Turmoil and
disturbances don’t occur. The stress that would otherwise result doesn’t
appear. When the mind is quiet, stress is also quiet. When
thought-formations are quiet, the origin of stress is also quiet. Stress
is also quiet. All that remains at that moment is a feeling of peace
and ease.

The war between the mind and the defilements causing
stress is like this. We have to keep fighting with persistence. We have
to use mindfulness and discernment, conviction and persistence to
contend with the war that disturbs and ravages the mind, making it
stagger and reel within. The disturbances will then gradually be
suppressed. Even when there is only a moment of quiet, we will come to
see the harm of the thought-formations that are constantly disturbing
us. At the same time, we will see the benefits of mental stillness —
that it’s a genuine pleasure. Whether there is a lot of stillness or a
little, pleasure arises in proportion to the foundation of stillness or
the strength of the stillness, which in the texts is called samadhi, or
concentration.

A mind centered and still is called a mind in
concentration, or a mind gathered in concentration. This is what genuine
concentration is like inside the heart. The names of the various stages
of concentration are everywhere, but actual concentration is inside the
heart. The heart is what gives rise to concentration. It produces it,
makes it on its own. When concentration is still, the mind experiences
cool respite and pleasure. It has its own foundation set firmly and
solidly within.

It’s as if we were under an eave or under the
cooling shade of a tree. We’re comfortable when it rains, we’re
comfortable when the sun is out, because we don’t have to be exposed to
the sun and rain. The same holds true with a mind that has an inner
foundation of stillness: It’s not affected by this preoccupation or
that, which would otherwise disturb and entangle it repeatedly, without
respite. This is because stillness is the heart’s dwelling —
‘concentration,’ which is one level of home for the heart.

Discernment
(pañña) is ingenuity, sound judgment, evaluating causes and effects
within and without; above, below, and in between — inside the body — all
the way to the currents of the mind that send out thoughts from various
angles. Mindfulness and discernment keep track of these things,
investigating and evaluating them so as to know causes and effects in
terms of the heart’s thought-formations, or in terms of the nature of
sankhara within us, until we see the truth of each of these things.

Don’t
go investigating these things off target, by being clever with labels
and interpretations that go against the truth — because in the
investigation of phenomena, we investigate in line with the truth. We
don’t resist the truth, for that would simply enhance the defilements
causing stress at the very moment we think we’re investigating phenomena
so as to remove them.

Birth we have already experienced. As for
old age, we’ve been growing old from the day of our birth, older and
older, step by step. Whatever our age, that’s how long we’ve been
growing old, until we reach the end of life. When we’re old to the nth
degree, we fall apart. In other words, we’ve been growing old from the
moment of birth — older by the day, the month, the year — older and
older continually. We call it ‘growing up’, but actually it’s growing
old.

See? Investigate it for what it really is. This is the great
highway — the way of nature. Don’t resist it. For example, the body is
growing old, but we don’t want it to be old. We want it always to be
young. This is called resisting the truth — which is stress. Even when
we try to resist it, we don’t get anywhere. What do we hope to gain by
resisting it and creating stress for ourselves? Actually, we gain
nothing but the stress that comes from resisting the truth.

Use
discernment to investigate just like this. Whenever pain arises in any
part of the body, if we have medicine to treat it, then we treat it.
When the medicine can take care of it, the body recovers. When the
medicine can’t, it dies. It goes on its own. There’s no need for us to
force it not to die, or to stay alive for so-and-so many years, for that
would be an absurdity. Even if we forced it, it wouldn’t stay. We
wouldn’t get any results and would just be wearing ourselves out in
vain. The body has to follow its own natural principles.

When we
investigate in line with its truth this way, we can be at our ease.
Wherever there’s pain, keep aware of it continually in line with its
truth. Whether it hurts a lot or a little, keep aware of its
manifestations until it reaches the ultimate point of pain — the death
of the body — and that’s as far as it goes.

Know it in line with
its truth. Don’t resist it. Don’t set up any desires, because the
setting up of desire is a deficiency, a hunger. And hunger, no matter
when or what the sort, is pain: Hunger for sleep is pain, hunger for
food is pain, hunger for water is pain. When was it ever a good thing?

The
hunger, the desires that arise, wanting things to be like this, wanting
them to be like that: These are all nothing but disturbances, issues
that give rise to stress and pain. This is why the Buddha doesn’t have
us resist the truth.

Use your discernment to investigate, to
contemplate in line with the natural principles of things as they
already are. This is called discernment that doesn’t fly in the face of
truth — and the heart can then be at ease.

We study the four
‘Noble Truths’ here in our body. In other words, we study birth, aging,
illness, and death, all of which lie in this single heap of elements
(dhatu) without ever leaving it. Birth is an affair of these elements.
Growing up or growing old, it’s old right here. When there’s illness, it
manages to be ill right here, in one part or another. When death comes,
it dies right here. So we have to study right here — where else would
we study? We have to study and know the things that involve us directly
before we study anything else. We have to study them comprehensively and
to completion — studying our own birth, our aging, our illness and
pain, and completing our study of our own death. That’s when we’ll be
wise — wise to all the events around us.

People who know the
Dhamma through practicing so that they are wise to the events that occur
to themselves, do not flinch in the face of any of the conventional
realities of the world at all. This is how it is when we study the
Dhamma, when we know and see the Dhamma in the area of the heart — in
other words, when we know rightly and well. ‘Mindfulness and discernment
that are wise all around themselves’ are wise in this way, not wise
simply from being able to remember. They have to be wise in curing
doubt, in curing the recalcitrance of the heart, as well as in curing
their own attachments and false assumptions so as to leave only a nature
that is pure and simple. That’s when we’ll be really at ease, really
relieved.

Let the khandhas be khandhas pure and simple in their
own way, without our messing with them, without our struggling with them
for power, without our forcing or coercing them to be like this or like
that. The khandhas are then khandhas, the mind is then the mind, each
with its own separate reality, each not infringing on the others as it
used to. Each performs its own duties. This is called khandhas pure and
simple, the mind pure and simple, without any conventional realities
adulterating them. What knows is what knows, the elements are elements,
the khandhas are khandhas.

Whatever things may break apart, let
them break apart. We have already known them clearly with our
discernment. We have no doubts. We’ve known them in advance, even before
they die, so when death comes, what doubts can we have? — especially
now that they display the truth of their nature for us to see clearly.
This is called studying the Dhamma, practicing the Dhamma. To study and
practice this way is to follow the same way that sages have practiced
and known before us.

All of these conditions are matters of
conventional reality — matters of the elements, the khandhas, or the
sense media (ayatana). The four khandhas, the five khandhas, whatever,
are individual conditions, individual conditions that are separated in
line with conventions. Discernment is also a condition; and mindfulness,
another condition — conditions of the heart — but they’re Dhamma, means
of curing the mind that is clouded and obscured, means of washing away
the things that cloud and obscure it, until radiance appears through the
power of the discernment that cleanses the heart. Once the heart is
radiant, in the next step it becomes pure.

Why is it pure?
Because all impurities have fallen away from it. The various
misconstruings that are an affair of defilement are all gone from the
heart, so the heart is pure. This pure heart means that we have
completed our study of ourselves, in line with the statement of the
teaching:

vusitam brahmacariyam katam karaniyam:

‘The task of the religion is done, the holy life is complete, there is no further task to be done.’
When
the tasks we have had to do — abandoning and striving — are done to
completion, we know right here, because delusion lay right here in the
heart. We study and practice simply to cure our own delusion. Once we
know right here, and delusion is gone, what else is there to know? — for
beyond this there is nothing further to know. What else is there for us
to be deluded about? We’re no longer deluded, because we know fully all
around.

This very state of mind: When at the beginning I
referred to the superlative Dhamma, the marvelous Dhamma, I was
referring to this very state of mind, this very Dhamma — but it’s
something known exclusively within itself, and exists only within
itself. It’s marvelous — this we know within our own mind. It’s
superlative — this we also know within our own mind. We can’t take it
out or unfurl it like other things for other people to see.

So if
you want to have any Noble Treasures to show for yourself, practice.
Remove all those dirty stains from the heart, and the superlative things
I have mentioned will appear by their own nature — in other words, they
will appear in the mind.

This is called completing your study of
the Dhamma; and your study of the world is completed right here. The
‘world’ means the world of elements, the world of the khandhas that lie
right here with each of us, which are more important than the worlds of
elements and khandhas belonging to other people, because this world of
elements and khandhas lies with us and has been weighing on the heart
all along.

When we have studied the Dhamma to the attainment of
release, that’s all there is to study. We’ve studied the world to
completion and studied the Dhamma in full. Our doubts are gone, and
there is nothing that will ever make us doubt again. As the Buddha
exclaimed, ‘When dhammas become apparent to the Brahman, earnest and
absorbed, doubt comes to an end because the conditions, the factors for
continued being and birth, come to an end.’

Once we have reached
this level, we can live wherever we like. The war is ended — the war
between the mind and defilement, or the war between Dhamma and
defilement, is over. This is where we dismantle being and birth. This is
where we dismantle the heap of suffering in the round of rebirth —
right here in the heart. Since the heart is the wanderer through the
cycle of rebirth, we have to dismantle things right here, to know them
right here. Once we know, that’s the end of all problems right here.

In
this whole wide world there are no problems. The only problem was the
issue of the heart that was deluded about itself and about the things
that became involved with it. Now that it has completely rectified the
way it is involved with things, there is nothing left — and that’s the
end of the problem.

From this point on, there are no more
problems to trouble the heart until the day of its total nibbana. This
is how the Dhamma is studied to completion. The world — the world of
elements and khandhas — is studied to completion right here.

So
keep striving in order to see the marvel described at the beginning,
which was described in line with the truth with no aspect to invite any
doubt.

The Buddha and the Noble Disciples have Dhamma filling
their hearts to the brim. You are a disciple of the Tathagata, with a
mind that can be made to show its marvelousness through the practice of
making it pure, just like the Buddha and the Noble Disciples. So try to
make it still and radiant, because the heart has long lain buried in the
mud. As soon as you can see the harm of the mud and grow tired of it,
you should urgently wake up, take notice, and exert yourself till you
can manage to make your way free. Nibbana is holding its hand out,
waiting for you. Aren’t you going to come out?

Rebelliousness is
simply distraction. The end of rebelliousness is stillness. When the
heart is still, it’s at ease. If it’s not still, it’s as hot as fire.
Wherever you are, everything is hot and troubled. Once it is still, then
it’s cool and peaceful wherever you are — cool right here in the heart.
So make the heart cool with the practice, because the heat and trouble
lie with the heart. The heat of fire is one thing, but the heat of a
troubled heart is hotter than fire. Try to put out the fires of
defilement, craving, and mental effluents burning here in the heart, so
that only the phenomenon of genuine Dhamma remains. Then you will be
cool and at peace, everywhere and always.