This week’s FBA Podcast is one of our Dharma Tape Detectives findings from the FBA Archives. “In Harmony with Friends and Brethren” by Srivati. What does it mean to be part of a Sangha? What does true harmony mean alongside the inevitability of conflict? Srivati addresses these questions with help from the monks at Kosambi, the six memorable qualities of a Bikkhu, and the seven knowledges of the stream entrant.
Free Buddhist Audio
In Harmony with Friends and Brethren
(upbeat music) This podcast is brought to you by Free Buddhist Audio, the Dharma for Your Life. Our work is funded entirely by donations from our generous listeners. If you would like to help us keep this free, make a contribution at freebuddhistaudio.com/donate. Thank you and happy listening. - Free Vasi has of course introduced herself, but I demand the right to introduce her as well. I'm very happy to do so, because I've known her for many years and have the good fortune to be her Kayana Mitra. We've worked together, she and I, in the London Buddhist Art Center. We were founder members of it, and she became one of the very early Dharma Chari Nis to be a member of SWBORs, and she still is. She worked very hard in the Art Center as the director. It was a new job, and she had to organize and did it wonderfully. She is a very good organizer. Perhaps I shouldn't tell you that, because you might want her to do some organizing. And she is actually very busy now. (audience laughing) Involved in many things. She's still helping at the Art Center, because there are lots of changes going on there. It's a very exciting time, and she's back there helping. She left the Art Center in order to follow her creative feelings, her urge to write poetry. And in fact, she produced a slim volume of poetry, which I can recommend to you. And I confess, I was bursting with pride when she read some of her poems on the convention last year. (audience laughing) Remember what I'm going to say and don't get carried away with things I want to tell you. I could go on for a long time about Shiva. I must confine myself to what I really mean to say. She's now having published her slim volume. Writing a play with the title of The Bandit, The Bride, and The Bikku, is going to happen in London in May, and she's going to direct it as well. So it'll be a very interesting presentation. She isn't satisfied with having done something well. There's always something else to get on to, to do. And I think that she has such capability is quite difficult for her to confine herself to discovering her creativity. Well, I'm sure she is going to introduce us to her creativity in her talk. And I cannot think of anyone more able to talk about harmony, harmony with friends and brethren because whenever she works, wherever she is, she brings a warmth and humor and harmony to what she's doing. So I'm delighted to introduce now Shiva Chi. (audience applauding) (audience applauding) - Thank you very much, Myelika. I was going to start this talk about the line of acceptance of in harmony with friends and brethren by telling you about when I was a chorister at Derby Cathedral. I was going to describe to you my blue full length cassock my flowing white surplus with its wing-like sleeves, not to mention the floppy white rough that completed the ensemble. I want to tell you about the harmony we created in the choir, how we sang settings by Purcell and Bird, how I love the eight-part Rachmaninoff Curie Leson. I was going to tell you about how this harmony was created under the eagle eye of one Wallace Ross, choir master and steam engine fanatic. I was planning to draw out various analogies between a choir and the sangor, telling you about the hierarchy of the young trebles or sopranos and the older and wiser altos, tenors and basses, reflecting along the way on the importance of listening the necessity for the occasional solo and so on. Because of course, although the grammatical tense of the lines of acceptance refer to the context in which we join the order, of course, it also suggests the intentions which ideally we maintain once in the order. So generally, the choir seemed a useful metaphor and along the way would have left you with a favorable, if somewhat exaggerated impression of my singing and musical ability. (audience laughing) But I'm not going to do that. (audience laughing) Apart from the fact that my tre gave an excellent talk on this particular line of acceptance using the musical harmony analogies at a W.R.O. Day some years ago, I found my mind turning elsewhere. In fact, I found myself thinking about death. It seems to me that death, when I remember it's unavoidable uncertainty, is a great spirit of the creation and maintenance of harmony in one's relations with others. I first really grasped this beyond a superficial level where many years ago I went for an HIV test. I was beginning a new sexual relationship and although perhaps naively, I thought it unlikely that either of us would have contracted the disease. We both decided to make sure. I received my counseling, gave my blood and then had to wait for what I think may be in a couple of days for the result. And I decided to make the most of the waiting. I remember fitting in the shrine room at Kamadatu, which was our community by Tesco's in Hackney. I'm reflecting on what I would do if the result was positive, i.e. negative for me. I imagined how I would want to live my life if I found that I had a limited time left to live. I mean, I really imagined if I had to face what is, of course, inevitable. The main thing that I remember feeling was that I would devote more time to my friends and family. I would make more room for the giving and receiving of love in my life and the keeping of those relationships in good repair. In the end, the test was clear, but I was grateful for the reflection that I'd let it force upon me. Again, as I was approaching my ordination in 1993, it seemed that I was preparing to die in some way and therefore it was imperative that I was in harmony with everyone before I went. In this case, the Far North and Dhana Kosa. I found myself more aware of my own temporary status and what followed from that was a desire to have clear conscience as to my behaviour to others, no unfinished business. Of course, I don't always remember that I have a sell-by date like any other perishable, but I try, likely, to bear it in mind. This doesn't work for everyone, but it helps me. Generally speaking, I don't often find myself in conflictual situations. It's probably because I'm more of a greed type than any other, so harmony is high on my list of priorities. The danger for this type is that we may, in our concern to avoid the unpleasantness of conflict, sit on the truth and not communicably. In thinking about harmony then, obviously we're talking about a deep harmony. In our context of joining and dwelling in the order, we're looking at a profound kind of unity based on mutual love and respect. Now, it's strange and rather embarrassing that I don't actually remember, say, any of the acceptances. Yet my experience of the ordination retreat was of wanting to dedicate myself as a newly fledged amateurini and it couldn't have been better summarised than in those four simple yet profound lines. In this case, in harmony with friends and brethren, I accept this ordination, captures my heartfelt wish that we, other the people that I'm close to, the WBO Sanger, or indeed the whole world, can live together in a spirit of active goodwill and cooperation, and again in a harmony that is not a pretense of concord, concealing division and difficulty. If there's one thing that I've learnt during my time growing up in the FWBO, it's the true harmony between my friends and I, comes only with an awareness and acknowledgement of as the film calls it, "What Lies Beneath." Don't think about that reference too much. I think that's quite a gory film. (audience laughs) It was one of the things that first attracted me to the Sanger when I first met it at Glengalls and Hyde Nye School on my first retreat in battle, Sussex. The people there were lovely, friendly and dedicated and they weren't pretending. So as always, the best option on an occasion like this is to see what the Buddha had to say about harmony amongst friends, brethren, and shall we say, cistern, perhaps. Because what I want to know is how to maintain any harmony there is and prevent new and remove existing disharmony. And therein the Magimini Kaiya is the answer. The circumstances are quarrel amongst the monks at Kassamdi. The situation is one that is all too easy to imagine happening. Someone does something that another thinks is wrong and a breach of the precepts. In this case, it's a monk leaving unused washing water in one of the toilets. In other words, something pretty trivial is against the rules. For us, this might translate into agreed routines in our community or team. We like what's been agreed. We want everyone to keep to it. We point it out to the other person who didn't realise they were in error and maybe they apologise. But maybe we tell others what they did. How could they not do it in the right way? Of course, that gets back to the other person. And before we know it, there's not only a falling out between the two of us, but we've involved others and they're taking sides too. This is what happened at Kassamdi between two of the monks who weren't junior ones either. And in no time there was, as it says, quarrelling, brawling, wrangling, disputing, and eventually schism, division and dissenting acts in the Sanger. The Buddha tried to help, but the verbal arrows continued. And in the end, the Buddha made an interesting decision. He went away. He left them to it and went off to spend some time on his own. I like this image of the Buddha simply going away. He couldn't make them see what they were doing. He says, "These misguided men seem obsessed." And he observes later that even robbers bent on pillaging the realm, connecting Concord, and that there is no fellowship with fools. In the end, the Kassamdi lay followers get fed up too, not least because the monks have driven the Buddha away. They decide to withdraw their respect and their arms food in the hope that the monks will go elsewhere, leave the Sanger or try and make amends to the Buddha. This works. Isn't that often the way when we're angry or fixed on who is at fault? Words of wisdom don't always get through, but some privational withdrawal does or can. The Buddha meets with all the monks, and they admit to stabbing each other with verbal daggers and not practicing loving kindness. He then tells them of six memorable qualities as it says in the Sutter that create love and respect and can use to helpfulness and non-dispute to Concord and Unity. Now, I'm sure that most of us are familiar with this Sutter. We often quote from it, and it appears now in our Mitra study. I don't think I'd ever really looked very closely at it. Oh yes, harmony in the order, love and respect and all that. So I've tried to reflect a little further. The first of the six memorable qualities is, here a bikku maintains bodily acts of loving kindness, both in public and in private towards his companions in the holy life. This is a memorable quality that creates love and respect and can use this to helpfulness, to non-dispute, to Concord and to Unity. Now, when I was writing this, I was thinking, now, what can I tell you all about the physical practice of loving kindness? Your diamond charities are the Western Buddhist order for heaven's sakes. I know that collectively we are, by no means, perfect in our practice, but generally, my experience of the order is one of harmony in this way. People are mostly very friendly, very kind, very helpful. In fact, I think I often take it for granted, that when the harmony is broken in some way, perhaps by an omission of an act of kindness, it stands out, and I feel it all the more keenly. The text mentions loving kindness in public and in private towards companions of the holy or good life. Again, I think that my friends in the order have that kind of integrity. We may sometimes question our motives, but I don't really see people doing things for the kudos or to make the right impression. I hear about many quiet, even anonymous acts of generosity and thoughtfulness, and have often been on the receiving end myself. Yet we don't always manage it. I think there are two areas where I know I have sometimes been forgetful of the needs of fellow order members. They are when someone suffers from chronic ongoing ill health, or when someone has suffered the death of a parent or another close person. I can be very good in a crisis, I think, but when there is ongoing debilitation or difficulty, I know that I sometimes forget what it must be like for that person, that doing simple jobs is difficult, daunting or exhausting. And often the hardest time in grief is after the funeral and all the help that the practical matter is over. That's maybe the time when our bereaved friend needs us most, when they're at home, back at work perhaps, but really feeling their loss and confusion and maybe thinking they should be over it all by now. And are we aware enough of the creeping effects of old age on our friends? It doesn't cause us anything to ask if help is needed, and often what is a mountain for our fellow order member is not only easy for us, but may not take much time either. Secondly, it says in the sutter, again, a big coup maintains verbal acts of loving kindness, both in public and in private. We all know what a big area is the practice of the speech precepts. Although we have the specific seventh precept of sanction from malicious or slanderous speech and practicing harmonious speech, all four speech precepts facilitate the harmony we're talking about. I like the precious stone that Banti associates with the seventh precept. He visualized it as a pillar of opal. I visited Australia in 1986 and went to a place called Kuba P.D., where they mine opal. I don't think I'd ever really looked at any opal before, and I just loved it well, opalescence. It's such a magical, almost a lie substance with the way that the different colors catch the light. And there, at least, it was dug up from a landscape that was dry, rough, and harsh. If we dig deep enough under our surface, we can find the concordant speech we need. What I mean is that it's very easy, as we all know, to quickly say the unhelpful thing, particularly if we feel justified in our indignation or opinion. A short pause before we speak is all it takes to remember, not only the person in front of us, but also a friend who is not present. Let's not be frightened of silence in our conversations while we consider what we're about to say. I'm reminding myself about this, of course, under the guise of telling you. Let's say it's one of those moments where we're talking with a friend, and we're angry with someone else, or maybe annoyed with something that they've done. We know we need to understand our reaction better, probably with a view to sorting something out with a third party, or even just dropping it. But there's also our righteous indignation. We want the satisfaction of getting something off our chest, or just having a good moan. Maybe not to the person concerned because we know better than that. It's at that moment that I, we, have to check our motivation before we open our mouths, or go any further. I know that people have sometimes said critical things to me about other people who I maybe don't know very well. And that negative impression lingers, it's still in my mind, even if I have had the intention of giving that person the benefit of the doubt. Maybe I've had the same effect on others. At the same time, this is a different point. We often have difficult things we need to talk about with each other. It reminds me of something that Jaya Matty says in his storytelling workshops. When you come across something in the text you're working with that doesn't make sense or that you don't like. So if the Buddha says or does something that you have difficulty with, you don't avoid it. For example, some people might have trouble telling the story of the Buddha's going forth because they don't like the fact that he apparently abandoned his wife and child. So in telling that part of the story, you engage with it and perhaps refer to the fact that he made a decision that's difficult to understand how could he have done this. So rather than skirting around it or papering over it, you feature the difficulty. The Michael Kane on Parkinson's last Saturday said something similar, use the difficulty. In other words, acknowledge your relation to the perceived problem and ask what can be learned from it. That way our communication, whether it's storytelling or conversation, can be authentic. And we all know what to do if in doubt, maintain the noble silence. Thirdly, a victim maintains mental acts of loving kindness both in public and in private towards his or her companions in the holy life. So what are mental acts of loving kindness? As Marika told you at the moment I'm writing this play, I've just finished the third draft and I'm getting a cast together. It's set just after the Buddha's death and it tells the stories of Ananda, Angulimala and Patatra and has Mara as an orator. I'm mentioning this not just to give you a double advert, but because writing a play with enlightened figures in it is proven to be a very effective form of Dharma study. To write convincingly, I have to step inside the skin of each character. This means I've been doing a different kind of visualization practice recently, imagining how these awakened men and women behave. What do they do? What do they say? How do they think? When the enlightened Angulimala are hermit on his way to the Buddha's cremation meets two hostile men who remember him as he used to be and threaten him, what he does will be based on how he thinks and feels. When Patatra, an experienced teacher and arrow hand is talking with one of her disciples who is doubtful and reactive, how does she respond? It seems to me that what marks the enlightened characters from the others is that they don't get in the way, in that they don't assert their personalities or preferences and yet they're not just inactive or uninterested, they are good friends. One of the biggest problems I've set myself with this project isn't just that I, as an unenlightened, novice playwright, I'm having to create convincing Buddhas. It's that drama is based on conflict like Sanghsara. I want this and I don't want that. The enlightened mind, however, as we all know, is beyond conflict, which means we could have ended up with no play at all, or at least a rather boring one. What I'm having to connect with is the dynamic nature of the non-dual mind. The energy in their equanimity. And this energy in their equanimity is, of course, their compassion. A Buddha doesn't interfere, but he or she does engage. When the scene where the Buddha comes across the young photographer, this is what the story shows us. She's a half-naked madwoman who has lost her mind as a result of the death of her husband, babies, parents, and brother. She's not aware of the Buddha and the other disciples. She's lost inside her own story. Some of the monks are discomforted by her near-nakedness. They want the Buddha to go somewhere else. But he sees her suffering, and what he does is move towards her so that she finds him in front of her. And then he simply stands there until she becomes aware of him and he just looks, kindly. His compassionate attention combines them with a few words. Sister, recover your presence of mind, bring her to her senses, which mean the awareness of her half-dressed state and remembrance of pain. What was the Buddha's mental act of loving-kindness? It was that pure concern for her well-being. And by his kind attention, he reached her through the cloud of madness. I wonder sometimes whether I underestimate the power of thought. I know how it influences what I say and do, but it really does influence the world around me, too, even when I'm still and quiet. I was thinking of the people I've sat with in a room who are angry and withdrawn, don't they make a lot of noise in their silence? And what about being around someone in the silence of a retreat who just radiates contentment and happiness? And why else with meditation retreats leave you feeling like you know the people you've been sitting with in the shrine room every day? And it's not just because it's rather gross, unintegrated beings, sorry, I should just speak to myself here. We can't help leaking our emotions in our body language, increasingly I believe in the direct power of thought, loving-kindness of the tangible force. We can only know true harmony in our community if we have this internal harmony. It's the inner dimension of friendship. This is a combination of strong self-metal so that others' preferences do not trouble us and the desire for the welfare of others for the same time we are aware of others' needs and wishes. It may not mean we have to do anything. Bearing witness to each other may be enough. It's like our preceptors, that's what they, you, do. I know there's a heap of activity associated with that particular responsibility. But fundamentally, that is what they do. Remember your private ordination and your preceptor, whoever they are, whatever their personality. When I first entered the hut at Dhanakosha, before Sangha Devi spoke, there she was, an embodiment of loving-kindness. In bearing witness to my going for refuge, she was like an archetypal version of herself, modeling pure friendship, even in the first few silent, smiling moments. And of course, we don't have to be a preceptor to develop and maintain our mental acts of loving-kindness. Lastly, under this heading of mental acts of loving-kindness, I found myself thinking about our brothers and sisters who choose to leave the order. In the last year or so, we've had, I think, five dime attorneys resigned from the LBC region. Individuals, for their varying reasons, are choosing to go elsewhere, and we need to look at our internal response to that. How do I feel in each case? What do I know and think about it? Do I still wish those women well? At the LBC, we've just acknowledged the need to do something for ourselves to mark these departures. We're hoping to do some kind of ritual and perhaps have a discussion about what it means. Back to the Sutter. The Buddha talking to these dysputaceous monks moves on from loving-kindness to another area. It is number four. Again, Abhikkhu uses things in common with virtuous companions in the holy life. Without making reservations, he shares with them any kind, any gain of a kind that accords with the dhamma and has been obtained in a way that accords with the dhamma, including the contents of his bowl. This is a memorable quality that creates love and respect and conducive to unity. So we can develop our harmony by sharing things. I noticed in myself that although I value the practice of dhamma very highly, I clearly don't value it enough to always remember to actually be generous. I do find it's a progression in the right direction if I can catch the resistance to giving. For example, when Pranny Devi was approaching ordination, she was considering Badra Satva as her yiddam. Maybe he was considering her too. I have a Badra Satva rupa and she asked if she could borrow it. I was really glad to be able to help my friend with a focus for her meditation and devotion. And at some point, I began to think about what I might give her for an ordination present. And immediately thought, well, wouldn't it be perfect to give her the rupa? This Badra Satva had been the community rupa it came adartu, and then had gone to another community with myself and Paula Krimans. When I moved on to Samayatara and as Paula was beginning to move away from the FWBO, I was reluctant to leave it behind, but it turned up again as my ordination present from her. And so I like to think that I was simply, it's steward, making it available for poojas and retreats and so on. But as soon as I have my generous thought about passing on to Pranny Devi, swift as you like was the second thought, but I don't want to give it away. So when on Pranny Devi's ordination retreat, it ill-convento, which I was supporting, Green Tara came to claim her. (audience laughing) I confess my relief at being able to hang on to the Badra Satva. Sometimes it's easier than others to share. The main thing is to have the intention. I know this is a truism, but some of the most generous people are those with the least material resources. I'm talking about fellow order members, like Marlika, for example. When she comes to visit, I don't think she ever comes empty-handed. And as for the time she shares with all the people she's a spiritual friend to, it's no wonder she won't admit to how many of them there are. I think she must have developed the city of self-duplication. How else does she fit them all in? Why does sharing, giving and pooling resources create love and respect and produce to unity? If we're in receipt of someone else's generosity, it can lead to an enjoyable sense of pleasure or delight. That in itself can affect how open our own heart is. We may be feel less need to assert our needs or protect ourselves. We feel a little love and respect coming our way, which may then be a seat for our own generosity. If someone shares one of their possessions with us, they're showing that they respect us to look after their property. I think sharing can inspire trust because we've had a concrete experience of another's kind awareness of us, and less confidence in us too. Trust is a delicate plant to grow from seed, but without it there's no oxygen or friendship. And if we are doing the giving, it exercises the meta muscle. I think the more we give and share, the more we want to share. It can start off as the development of a positive habit and then becomes the way we think and feel. My partner Peter is quite exemplary in this area. He actively seeks opportunities to share what he has with the materially or in terms of expertise. He takes the view that if he has enough of something of whatever kind, it's his duty to share it, including his time. The Dharmakar, a car he bought for the use of those without one, for a daily loan fee that pays for its running costs is now offering him its sixth year. In terms of practice within our order, Sangha, the mention of the sutta of including the contents of his bowl reminds me that occasions to do with food are a lovely opportunity to extend our sphere of concern. I catch myself here in the dining room, anxious about getting a seat. I'm sure I'm not alone. And what about making sure someone else has a seat? On other occasions, a thought has been, will there be enough of whatever it is I particularly fancy eating? Maybe someone else is more hungry or more anxious. And if I'm able bodied, then it's up to me to share that briefly held advantage and do the squeezing through to the window or to help in the serving or whatever. Similarly, there are all the books and clothes and music that we own. In the Sangha, I think we do quite well-passing things around as well as making gifts to each other. I know this has been discussed before. I still wonder whether as an order we could do more to practice this quality of pooling our resources and joint ownership. It happens in communities to varying degrees. And I'd be interested to know what people's experience of this is, but including those of us who don't live in community. Sharing things does seem to reduce attachment and that has to congeuse to unity because then there is less to hold on to and defend. We all have the things we do, donations, standing orders, giving gifts or lists in a car, loaning books. But then, my experience of book loaning in the movement is dreadful. You then do book to a practitioner of the mindfulness of breathing and never see it again. How can that be? How could I share more effectively? That is to say, as it says in the sutta, without reservations. In terms of money, I've started carrying around chains like Dada Rinpoche so that I have money easily to hand to give to some of the people who I see begging. The other thing I'm trying to remember to carry in my pocket is a particular question. If someone is having difficulty whether practical or emotional, I try to remember to bring out my question, even if I feel busy or resistant, is there anything I can do to help? Some people seem so touched, surprised even to be asked that it is very encouraging to bring it out as often as possible. Because they feel cared for in being asked, even if there's nothing to be done, and even if I'm not actually able to do what's needed, at least we can look at finding someone else who can. Fifthly, again, Abhikut Wells, both in public and private, possessing in common with his companions in the holy life, those virtues that are unbroken, untorn, unblotched, unmottled, liberating, commended by the wise, not misapprehended, and conducive to concentration. This quality seems to be about the general practice of ethics and are attending to the training principles of the 10 precepts. I've just got one observation to make here. It's nothing new, really, but it seems to me that the only way I can purify my behaviour and motive is if I notice and acknowledge when my virtues aren't untorn and unblotched. It doesn't help if I give myself a really hard time for some unskilledfulness, what the Americans would call a double whammy. We get something wrong, braising a precept, and then to make sure we can feel really bad, we beat ourselves up for it. That is not the ethical response, it's not metaphor. In formal confession, I think I managed to find my objectivity, but there have been occasions where, when I have done something that I feel bad about, and then used the remorse to somehow reinforce a view that I'm bad, selfish, negative, substitute your own adjective first and... Happily, this rarely happens these days, but it is something I try and watch out for. Remorse is fine, self-flagellation isn't. Confession also builds trust, I think. We meet each other at the level of our samskaras. It's exposing, we can feel vulnerable, but it builds an awareness of each other at both our best and our worst. These are our habits where we trip ourselves up, and this is exactly the same place where we show ourselves to have an ethical sensitivity and the desire to transform the raw material of our beings. Number six, the last of the memorable qualities. Again, Abhikud dwells in both public and private, possessing in common with his companions in the holy life, that view that is noble and emancipating, and leads one who practices in accordance with it for the complete destruction of suffering. This too is a memorable quality that creates love and respect who can use this to unity. Ultimately, then, it is the holding of right view, perfect vision that creates harmony. The Buddha goes on to say to the gathered monks that this quality is the highest and most comprehensive of the fix, because it is the view that can liberate us and lead to the destruction of suffering. The monks must have been pretty sobered by the Buddha ticking them off for their quarrelling, but then encouraged by his advice on how to cultivate unity. For me, he's now mentioning right view, I think, "Uh-oh, now he's going beyond me." But then he asks, "How does this view lead to the complete destruction of suffering?" And then he tells us. It seems the only true way to guarantee unity and harmony amongst our friends and brethren is to become stream entrance. It's the only way that we're to experience the third level of consciousness that coincidence of wills has bound to cause it all the time, spontaneously. Then we will need to break the first three fetters. And here I go again, feeling inspired but somewhat daunted. Yet the Buddha proceeds to list the seven knowledges or factors of a stream entrance. And once again, we're given an eminently practical path to follow. So to conclude, I'm going to fairly briefly remind you of these seven knowledges or factors of a stream entrance. He begins by describing a vikku, or let's say a dhamma chirani, who has gone to the forest or to the root of a tree or to an empty hut, asking themselves, "Is there any obsession unabandoned in myself that might so obsess my mind that I cannot know or see things as they actually are?" He lists the possible obsessions of the five hindrances for being absorbed in speculation about this or the other world, as well as quarreling and disputes. He says, "If the person finds no such obsession to prevent knowing and seeing things as they are, then their mind is well disposed for awakening to the truths that is the four noble truths. And this is the first knowledge or factor of a stream entrance." So I can ask myself, "Is there any obsession preventing me from being able to see the truth of dissatisfaction and suffering and how to end it by dhamma practice?" That question makes the possibility of a stream entry nearer because I know that I am my friends, we're getting better at catching ourselves in the hindrances and other unhelpful thinking. And I find the word in the English translation obsession helpful and obsession is a persistent idea or thought dominating a person's mind. I recognize that. It sounds like a lot of my meditations. But I know that noticing and naming the obsessive thought can weaken it sometimes immediately. I remember being told as a girl and then again as a young adult that I thought too much. Being in the sanger means I'm amongst like-minded people. What else is our reflexive consciousness for if not to think about our thinking? We just choose our focus. A 16-year-old GCSERE student at the LBC this week asked me, "But how can you think about all the limbs of the eightfold path at the same time?" And he just articulated to show that he thought his head would explode in the attempt. But it's not really like that in practice, is it? We choose our particular focus in different circumstances and try and keep it simple one moment at a time with the teachings as our map, not our rule book. The second knowledge not shared by ordinary folk as a Sutter has it is when we understand that if we pursue developing, cultivate this view, we obtain internal serenity. We can personally obtain stillness. If I really saw the three actioners to be true all the time and truly saw the emptiness of all things, then serenity and stillness would undoubtedly follow because I wouldn't have my usual expectations and attachments. Thirdly, the Buddha says that the third knowledge attained by the stream entrant is seeing on reflection that no other recluse or Brahmin outside the Buddha's dispensation is possessed of such a view. I don't quite understand this one unless it means a recognition that right view or perfect vision is not like any other teaching. I know that when I'm hosting a visit to the London Buddhist Centre, especially with older adults, some people are very keen to position Buddhism, which they often find very attractive as being just like all other religions, all are one. Both Panditavian and I have given presentations of Buddhism at so-called parliaments of religion run by the realm of Krishna people. These followers of Vivekananda pride themselves rightly, I think, on their interfaith approach and the cultivation of universal tolerance, harmony and peace. But the truth is that however welcoming they are to other faiths and despite professing to study them, each time they have announced that what unites us or is our belief in God. While God is open to interpretation these days, they meant God. And I felt a strong urge to do something dramatic like a jilted lover at a wedding when the minister says, "Does anyone know of any just cause or impediment? He jumps up to halt the proceeding." (audience laughing) Harmony only comes with an attempt to understand the other, whether it's a religion or a person, not by telling them what you think. The fourth factor of a stream-entry is that they know themselves to have the character of a person who possesses right view. And this is described here as one who, although he or she may commit some kind of offense, confesses and discloses it at once for wise companions in the holy life. They then enter upon restraint for the future. And there's an image given here, which is very vivid. The comparison is made with a young tender infant who at once draws back when they put their hand or foot on a hot coal. No procrastination, just instantaneous withdrawal from what is unskillful. Similarly, the fifth factor is another aspect of the character of a person with right view. Here, the descriptions of one who, although active in various matters for his or her companions in the holy life, yet has a keen regard for training in the higher virtue, mind or wisdom. And this keen regard is compared to a cow who while grazing always watches her calf. Do I have that keen regard? Do I always look for the Dharma in any situation? With the sixth factor, the reflection is, what is the strength of the person who possesses right view? The Buddha says, this is when the person heed his attention to and engages with the Dharma when they hear it taught with all their mind. They hear the Dharma with, it says, eager ears. How eager are our ears? Generally, I think I do have eager ears when I'm with the teaching of the Dharma. They listening to a talk or reading or in study. Sometimes I'm resistant to putting myself in earshot. For example, I rarely go to the whole of any festival at the LBC, and I'm not the only one. We all have our reasons, mostly pretty good ones. But I think I sometimes miss the opportunities for listening with eager ears that I wouldn't have dreamt of when I first came across the Dharma. And finally, the seventh factor of a stream entrance is when we gain inspiration when the Dharma is being taught, gain inspiration in the meaning, and gain gladness concerned with the Dharma. And it seems the Buddha's teaching on this occasion had the desired result. The Sutter ends, this is what the Blessed One said, the bhikkhus were satisfied and delighted in the Blessed One's words. The occasion for the Kamsambhiya Sutter was a schism in the Brotherhood of Monks, which began from a fairly small incident and two interpretations of what was the right way. There have been a few tricky moments in our order. For example of events, the events in India a few years ago when the order was becoming divided. It's our individual and collective responsibility to clarify any misunderstandings and rectify any mistakes we make that may lead to disharmony. I know these situations can creep up on us, which is why we need to catch things early, and what have old hurts and resentments between us. They're harder to work with when attitudes have hardened, and especially if one party has removed themselves from possible places to communicate like chapters. But as I said at the beginning of the talk, let's not forget the uncertainty of death. It only takes one person to take a step and both are already closer. The finish, there was another television program I watched this week. You'll probably be thinking that LBC Dharma Charonies was a lot of television and films and it's true. (audience laughing) The program was called Five Miles High, and it was about the jet stream, that high-fast river of air that circles the globe in both hemispheres. I didn't know that pilots flying east across the Atlantic from the States make use of this by flying in that stream so that they can cut maybe an hour's flying time as well as saving on fuel. I'm not trying to make a complete analogy here, but I was very struck by the image of this rushing river of wind way up in the sky. That's a powerful force affecting weather around the globe and that moves position who have to find if you want to enter its flow. I'd been writing this talk that day and it made me think of the stream of Sangha that we can enter if we're willing to step into that potentially accelerating flow. And the jet streams are created by the meeting of cold air from the poles, meeting warm air from the equator region, just like the Bodhi Chitta, something much more powerfully emerging after apparent conflict and tension. That hot and cold air is affected by how we treat the planet. Likewise, the flow of Sangha is affected by how we are with our hot and cold experiences, our love or hate. I hope that between us knowing ourselves, hot or cold, we can create a jet stream of friendliness that carries us even beyond the gravitational pull. We hope you enjoyed this week's podcast. Please help us keep this free. Make a contribution at freebuddhistaudio.com/donate. And thank you. (gentle music) (gentle music) (gentle music) (gentle music) [BLANK_AUDIO]