A Strange Coincidence
On the first of September 1955 I reached the International Meditation Centre for the ten-day course. In the massive, recently constructed Mahāpāsāna Guhā, or 'Great Cave', a short distance away on Prom road near the Kaba Aye Peace Pagoda, 2500 scholarly bhikkhus from various countries were immersed in the reciting of the Tipitaka. The sacred work of the Sixth Sangayana (Dhamma Council) was under way. Until then I had no inkling, even remotely, of its historical importance, though my friend U Chan Htoon had made me a member of one of the subcommittees of this gigantic undertaking. This subcommittee was in charge of the food arrangements and I was responsible for organising the vegetarian fare. Up to this point, all I knew about this undertaking was that a large number of bhikkhus were reciting their scriptures and it would last for a few years. Making food arrangements for public events always interested me and I was happy with this task.
After completing the ten-day Vipassana course I realised the vital importance of this great work. Prior to this, five such Sangayanas had been organised over the span of 2500 years under contemporary scholar bhikkhus, who established the authenticity of the Buddha's words after examining them thoroughly and comprehensively. At present 2500 bhikkhus converging from different nations, were collectively reestablishing the authenticity of the Buddha's words that had been maintained in their respective countries with utmost care for centuries. The words were preserved in their original language of Pali and though the scripts and pronunciations in the various countries differed from each other, there was rarely any difference in their essential meaning. These 2500 scholars from the five countries were immersed in reestablishing the authenticity of the original teachings of the Buddha once again.
This Sangāyana was being held at the time when the first period of 2500 hundred years of the Buddha's teaching (sāsana) was ending, and the 2500 hundred years of the second period was beginning. As the course ended, Sayagyi U Ba Khin told me about an ancient belief that the second period of the Buddha säsana would start with the spread of panna. He further commented that the wisdom developed through Vipassana meditation would not only spread in Burma, but would return to its source, India, and from there spread all around the world. It was a coincidence that I received this priceless jewel in the year when the two periods of the teaching met - one ending and the other beginning. Truly a profound blessing for me.
Kālāma Sutta
When I reached the meditation centre at the start of the course, I left my belongings in the assigned room and went to pay respects to Sayagyi. There I found a small booklet and on its first page these words from the Kālāma sutta were written:
The Buddha gave the following advice to the Kālāmas:Do not accept anything:
• because it has been believed traditionally for generations;
• because you have heard it many times;
• because it is believed by a large number of people;
• because it is in accordance with your scriptures;
• because it seems logical;
• because it is in line with your own beliefs and thinking;
• because it is proclaimed by your teacher, who has an attractive personality and for whom you have great respect.
Accept it only after you have realized it yourself at the experiential level, and have found it to be wholesome and beneficial to one and all. Then, not only accept it but also live up to it.
(Kalama Sutta, AN 3:65, 7188-93)
Then Sayagyi U Ba Khin told me that the visage of the Tathāgata was splendorous and respectworthy, yet he did not permit his teachings to be accepted on the basis of blind faith. Hence, he said to me, "Do not accept whatever I teach in blind faith. When you see with your own experience that it is totally beneficial, then alone accept it and carry it forth in your own life. You have come here for practising the teachings of the Buddha at the experiential level".
My heart welled up with joy upon hearing and reading these words of my Guru and the Buddha. How do I pay enough respect to such a one as the Buddha, and a teacher like Sayagyi U Ba Khin who say to develop these teachings based on one's own experience and accept them if they prove beneficial, and not to accept them blindly.
Until now, all the religious masters I had encountered had said to accept what they were saying in faith and devotion, and not to be hesitant or mistrusting in their words. Then enticing heavens were promised to believers, and dark hells to those who doubted them. And what was being said here? I was told not to merely accept what is taught on faith, but to experience the teachings for myself.
Hearing and reading about this essential religious truth, I felt truly blessed and made a firm resolve to unhesitatingly give it a trial at the experiential level.
The Storm and then Peace
The camp started. Guruji taught us the sadhana of Anapana and I began the practice of remaining aware of the incoming and outgoing breath. My morning sitting was good. Then we assembled in the dining hall at 11 a.m. There were only a handful of students, and Guruji asked everyone about their practice. Every individual present there said that they saw light during their meditation. When my turn came, I mentioned that there was strong itching and some other neutral sensations below the nostrils, but no light. After lunch we all went to our respective rooms.
I became unhappy. In those days I was a very vain person. With success having quickly been achieved far beyond expectations in so many fields, the mind had become very self-centred and arrogant. Due to this, even the smallest failure or undesirable happening used to become unbearable for me and my heart would become heavy. If anyone approached me at such times, he would likely become the victim of an unreasonable outburst of mine. I preferred being left alone with my misery. Nothing felt good at such times and now was no different. I didn't feel like going to the meditation cell.
Even when I pushed myself to go there, I could not observe even a couple of breaths. My mind simply refused to comply with the meditation instructions and my misery grew. I returned to my residence and lay down on the bed. But the agitation grew and a feeling of inferiority and failure took over as I began to contemplate on how I had become trapped: This meditation is good and others are indeed benefitting from it, but I am not worthy of it. Other meditators are good people; one is a school teacher while another is a retired government officer. Their lives are simple and wholesome, of them experienced the divine light. I was the only one left out. I am a businessman with a cunning and calculating mind, while these persons are worthy candidates. Divine experience or flights to spiritual heights are not meant for a worldly person like me."
Now I was truly dejected. I felt so low that I decided to leave the camp and return home. I knew that the Centre's rules were very strict and I would not be given permission to leave. But I knew that Sayagyi left for his office after lunch, returning only in the evening at 6 p.m. My car would be coming by 5 p.m. with a few essentials from home that I had called for, so I could leave then. Even if I was unable to take my bags with me, it didn't matter as the driver could come back later to pick these up. Thus, with the intention of running away I packed my bags.
It was due to some past pāramis (virtuous qualities) as well as my very good fortune that at that time I encountered Daw Mya Sein. She was a professor and the head of the Geography department at Rangoon University whom I knew. She was a scholar of high standing and had been very happy to see me participating in the meditation camp. But now seeing me so unhappy, she inquired as to the problem. I told her the truth, that I was going home before Sayagyi returned as the meditation was not suitable for me, o not suitable for this meditation.
"Why are these useless, unnecessary thoughts filled with feelings of inferiority arising in your mind?" she asked. I replied with a heavy heart, "Everyone saw the divine light but I did not. I am not going to get any where with this, so why should I waste my time." She laughed and said, “During lunch time Sayagyi was truly praising your meditation. You have started experiencing sensations clearly in the area below the nostrils. Very few people are able to experience this on the first day. You are very lucky."
"What is so great about these sensations" I replied. "The main thing is to experience divine light. Divine light carries so much significance in our tradition. But she explained once again, "Sayagyi has instructed you to give importance to the sensations. Whether you see light or not is irrelevant as it is only a marker on the path of meditation. But at this point, the most important aspect of meditation is the sensations in the region of the nostrils. In due course, these sensations will spread throughout the body and be the medium of a successful meditation. There is no doubt that you will succeed in your endeavour. Just wait for one more night. If you must go, then take the decision in the morning," she added earnestly. "Now when you sit for meditation don't give any importance to light. You are getting such strong sensations below your nostrils, just focus on that along with the breath. This is what will help you progress." I thought it was too late to leave then anyway, so I might as well do as she said. Though not fully convinced, I decided to stay for one more night.
I went to my cell at six that evening and gave my all to observing sensations below the nostrils along with the breath, and made a firm resolve not to pay attention to whether I saw light or not. Focusing my entire attention on sensations, as suggested by Daw Mya Sein, I also remembered our teacher's words that breath and sensations were the important factors for us. I was now fully immersed in meditation, and with great surprise I saw lights here and there; indeed light filled the entire space. I remained firm in my resolve not to pay any attention to light, and that sensation alone was my point of focus. After some time, there was not just th presence of divine light but I could hear celestial sounds too. The sound of a huge water fall pervaded one ear while the other ear was inundated with sweet sounds of chimes. But now even these divine sounds could not distract me. I had read a lot about divine light and primal celestial sound and always gave huge importance to them, but now I decided not to pay any attention to them. Rather I made a firm resolve that my meditation practice must only be based on sensations and I kept my focus steadfastly on them. After some time I saw that, besides the light and the sound, some additional aspects of the sixth sense were becoming active, but I ignored these as well and continued giving all importance to sensations.
I was very happy when I emerged from my cell at 9 p.m. that evening. The dejected feeling I had experienced in the afternoon had vanished, and there was absolutely no question of my running away. I remain to this day immensely grateful to Daw Mya Sein who truly helped me to overcome the desire to escape which had arisen in me. Had I been so foolish as to run away, I would have been deprived of this priceless jewel forever. I am also deeply grateful to my friend U Chan Htoon who brought me to this path, suggesting that I give this beneficial technique at least one try.
My progress surpassed all expectations. And when Vipassana was given after two days, the experience was truly extraordinary. The entire body melted into a mass of atoms, with varied movements and sensations. This inner world was totally unknown to me. That there was a constant flow of varied sensations throughout the body was something that I could have never even conceived of. I felt as if I had entered a magical land.
Vipassana was given in the morning before lunch. When Sayagyi came for checking he said, "What has been received by you is invaluable. Now you must ensure that you never leave it." He called for an assistant to bring a blanket. Covering my head and face with it, the assistant guided me from the cell to my room so that I did not get distracted by some external stimuli and thus lose this precious reality within. I was told to lie on my bed and meditate; a helper would bring my food to the room. While eating, too, I was to remain aware of these sensations, being careful not to break the continuity. I did as I was told, which was to see that the inner awareness with panna continued in every posture - sitting, standing, walking, lying, eating and drinking.
The days passed. I remained immersed in meditation during which I came across many unusual experiences. The inert body became enlivened with no solidity anywhere; only wavelets, wavelets everywhere. The entire spinal cord turned into a mass of wavelets and hundreds of openings on the head burst into wavelets, and then from the top of the head a fountain erupted. By the end of the course it felt as if tonnes of weight had been lifted off me. I felt so light, as if the gravitational pull of the earth was no more and I was ready to fly in the air.
Once during the course I did consider that all of this might be an imagination. But my teacher gave me advice on how to check whether it was reality or not, and I realised that this was neither imagination nor hypnotism. It was the inner truth. A layer of ignorance exists on the surface of the mind which does not allow us to realise the truth. With the right application of the Buddha's beneficent teachings, this external layer was broken and a new inner world was revealed, just like a chicken before being hatched, is in ignorance of another reality.
With this outer layer covering me no more, I felt as if I was born again; just like we could say a bird is born from its mother's womb in an egg, and then is born a second time when it hatches out of that egg. I too came out of my mother's womb with the lay ignorance covering me, and now this powerfully beneficent insight had helped break that layer, giving me a second birth. This second birth was my real birth.
I had not taken the sacred thread as per our Hindu traditional beliefs. This being due to my stubborn resolve of not taking it unless and until our society permitted everyone, including the lowest born, to take the sacred thread. As a result I was still considered a low born. I was fine, indeed even happy with this state of affairs. But now, with this sādhana, I had become twice born in the true sense of the word. After all, how does one become twice born merely by fulfilling the ritual of taking the thread? But by coming to this meditation centre and breaking the shell of ignorance, I had truly become twice born. I was blessed, immeasurably blessed.
(from the Autobiography of Mr. SN Goenka ) - Continued..
On the first of September 1955 I reached the International Meditation Centre for the ten-day course. In the massive, recently constructed Mahāpāsāna Guhā, or 'Great Cave', a short distance away on Prom road near the Kaba Aye Peace Pagoda, 2500 scholarly bhikkhus from various countries were immersed in the reciting of the Tipitaka. The sacred work of the Sixth Sangayana (Dhamma Council) was under way. Until then I had no inkling, even remotely, of its historical importance, though my friend U Chan Htoon had made me a member of one of the subcommittees of this gigantic undertaking. This subcommittee was in charge of the food arrangements and I was responsible for organising the vegetarian fare. Up to this point, all I knew about this undertaking was that a large number of bhikkhus were reciting their scriptures and it would last for a few years. Making food arrangements for public events always interested me and I was happy with this task.
After completing the ten-day Vipassana course I realised the vital importance of this great work. Prior to this, five such Sangayanas had been organised over the span of 2500 years under contemporary scholar bhikkhus, who established the authenticity of the Buddha's words after examining them thoroughly and comprehensively. At present 2500 bhikkhus converging from different nations, were collectively reestablishing the authenticity of the Buddha's words that had been maintained in their respective countries with utmost care for centuries. The words were preserved in their original language of Pali and though the scripts and pronunciations in the various countries differed from each other, there was rarely any difference in their essential meaning. These 2500 scholars from the five countries were immersed in reestablishing the authenticity of the original teachings of the Buddha once again.
This Sangāyana was being held at the time when the first period of 2500 hundred years of the Buddha's teaching (sāsana) was ending, and the 2500 hundred years of the second period was beginning. As the course ended, Sayagyi U Ba Khin told me about an ancient belief that the second period of the Buddha säsana would start with the spread of panna. He further commented that the wisdom developed through Vipassana meditation would not only spread in Burma, but would return to its source, India, and from there spread all around the world. It was a coincidence that I received this priceless jewel in the year when the two periods of the teaching met - one ending and the other beginning. Truly a profound blessing for me.
Kālāma Sutta
When I reached the meditation centre at the start of the course, I left my belongings in the assigned room and went to pay respects to Sayagyi. There I found a small booklet and on its first page these words from the Kālāma sutta were written:
The Buddha gave the following advice to the Kālāmas:Do not accept anything:
• because it has been believed traditionally for generations;
• because you have heard it many times;
• because it is believed by a large number of people;
• because it is in accordance with your scriptures;
• because it seems logical;
• because it is in line with your own beliefs and thinking;
• because it is proclaimed by your teacher, who has an attractive personality and for whom you have great respect.
Accept it only after you have realized it yourself at the experiential level, and have found it to be wholesome and beneficial to one and all. Then, not only accept it but also live up to it.
(Kalama Sutta, AN 3:65, 7188-93)
Then Sayagyi U Ba Khin told me that the visage of the Tathāgata was splendorous and respectworthy, yet he did not permit his teachings to be accepted on the basis of blind faith. Hence, he said to me, "Do not accept whatever I teach in blind faith. When you see with your own experience that it is totally beneficial, then alone accept it and carry it forth in your own life. You have come here for practising the teachings of the Buddha at the experiential level".
My heart welled up with joy upon hearing and reading these words of my Guru and the Buddha. How do I pay enough respect to such a one as the Buddha, and a teacher like Sayagyi U Ba Khin who say to develop these teachings based on one's own experience and accept them if they prove beneficial, and not to accept them blindly.
Until now, all the religious masters I had encountered had said to accept what they were saying in faith and devotion, and not to be hesitant or mistrusting in their words. Then enticing heavens were promised to believers, and dark hells to those who doubted them. And what was being said here? I was told not to merely accept what is taught on faith, but to experience the teachings for myself.
Hearing and reading about this essential religious truth, I felt truly blessed and made a firm resolve to unhesitatingly give it a trial at the experiential level.
The Storm and then Peace
The camp started. Guruji taught us the sadhana of Anapana and I began the practice of remaining aware of the incoming and outgoing breath. My morning sitting was good. Then we assembled in the dining hall at 11 a.m. There were only a handful of students, and Guruji asked everyone about their practice. Every individual present there said that they saw light during their meditation. When my turn came, I mentioned that there was strong itching and some other neutral sensations below the nostrils, but no light. After lunch we all went to our respective rooms.
I became unhappy. In those days I was a very vain person. With success having quickly been achieved far beyond expectations in so many fields, the mind had become very self-centred and arrogant. Due to this, even the smallest failure or undesirable happening used to become unbearable for me and my heart would become heavy. If anyone approached me at such times, he would likely become the victim of an unreasonable outburst of mine. I preferred being left alone with my misery. Nothing felt good at such times and now was no different. I didn't feel like going to the meditation cell.
Even when I pushed myself to go there, I could not observe even a couple of breaths. My mind simply refused to comply with the meditation instructions and my misery grew. I returned to my residence and lay down on the bed. But the agitation grew and a feeling of inferiority and failure took over as I began to contemplate on how I had become trapped: This meditation is good and others are indeed benefitting from it, but I am not worthy of it. Other meditators are good people; one is a school teacher while another is a retired government officer. Their lives are simple and wholesome, of them experienced the divine light. I was the only one left out. I am a businessman with a cunning and calculating mind, while these persons are worthy candidates. Divine experience or flights to spiritual heights are not meant for a worldly person like me."
Now I was truly dejected. I felt so low that I decided to leave the camp and return home. I knew that the Centre's rules were very strict and I would not be given permission to leave. But I knew that Sayagyi left for his office after lunch, returning only in the evening at 6 p.m. My car would be coming by 5 p.m. with a few essentials from home that I had called for, so I could leave then. Even if I was unable to take my bags with me, it didn't matter as the driver could come back later to pick these up. Thus, with the intention of running away I packed my bags.
It was due to some past pāramis (virtuous qualities) as well as my very good fortune that at that time I encountered Daw Mya Sein. She was a professor and the head of the Geography department at Rangoon University whom I knew. She was a scholar of high standing and had been very happy to see me participating in the meditation camp. But now seeing me so unhappy, she inquired as to the problem. I told her the truth, that I was going home before Sayagyi returned as the meditation was not suitable for me, o not suitable for this meditation.
"Why are these useless, unnecessary thoughts filled with feelings of inferiority arising in your mind?" she asked. I replied with a heavy heart, "Everyone saw the divine light but I did not. I am not going to get any where with this, so why should I waste my time." She laughed and said, “During lunch time Sayagyi was truly praising your meditation. You have started experiencing sensations clearly in the area below the nostrils. Very few people are able to experience this on the first day. You are very lucky."
"What is so great about these sensations" I replied. "The main thing is to experience divine light. Divine light carries so much significance in our tradition. But she explained once again, "Sayagyi has instructed you to give importance to the sensations. Whether you see light or not is irrelevant as it is only a marker on the path of meditation. But at this point, the most important aspect of meditation is the sensations in the region of the nostrils. In due course, these sensations will spread throughout the body and be the medium of a successful meditation. There is no doubt that you will succeed in your endeavour. Just wait for one more night. If you must go, then take the decision in the morning," she added earnestly. "Now when you sit for meditation don't give any importance to light. You are getting such strong sensations below your nostrils, just focus on that along with the breath. This is what will help you progress." I thought it was too late to leave then anyway, so I might as well do as she said. Though not fully convinced, I decided to stay for one more night.
I went to my cell at six that evening and gave my all to observing sensations below the nostrils along with the breath, and made a firm resolve not to pay attention to whether I saw light or not. Focusing my entire attention on sensations, as suggested by Daw Mya Sein, I also remembered our teacher's words that breath and sensations were the important factors for us. I was now fully immersed in meditation, and with great surprise I saw lights here and there; indeed light filled the entire space. I remained firm in my resolve not to pay any attention to light, and that sensation alone was my point of focus. After some time, there was not just th presence of divine light but I could hear celestial sounds too. The sound of a huge water fall pervaded one ear while the other ear was inundated with sweet sounds of chimes. But now even these divine sounds could not distract me. I had read a lot about divine light and primal celestial sound and always gave huge importance to them, but now I decided not to pay any attention to them. Rather I made a firm resolve that my meditation practice must only be based on sensations and I kept my focus steadfastly on them. After some time I saw that, besides the light and the sound, some additional aspects of the sixth sense were becoming active, but I ignored these as well and continued giving all importance to sensations.
I was very happy when I emerged from my cell at 9 p.m. that evening. The dejected feeling I had experienced in the afternoon had vanished, and there was absolutely no question of my running away. I remain to this day immensely grateful to Daw Mya Sein who truly helped me to overcome the desire to escape which had arisen in me. Had I been so foolish as to run away, I would have been deprived of this priceless jewel forever. I am also deeply grateful to my friend U Chan Htoon who brought me to this path, suggesting that I give this beneficial technique at least one try.
My progress surpassed all expectations. And when Vipassana was given after two days, the experience was truly extraordinary. The entire body melted into a mass of atoms, with varied movements and sensations. This inner world was totally unknown to me. That there was a constant flow of varied sensations throughout the body was something that I could have never even conceived of. I felt as if I had entered a magical land.
Vipassana was given in the morning before lunch. When Sayagyi came for checking he said, "What has been received by you is invaluable. Now you must ensure that you never leave it." He called for an assistant to bring a blanket. Covering my head and face with it, the assistant guided me from the cell to my room so that I did not get distracted by some external stimuli and thus lose this precious reality within. I was told to lie on my bed and meditate; a helper would bring my food to the room. While eating, too, I was to remain aware of these sensations, being careful not to break the continuity. I did as I was told, which was to see that the inner awareness with panna continued in every posture - sitting, standing, walking, lying, eating and drinking.
The days passed. I remained immersed in meditation during which I came across many unusual experiences. The inert body became enlivened with no solidity anywhere; only wavelets, wavelets everywhere. The entire spinal cord turned into a mass of wavelets and hundreds of openings on the head burst into wavelets, and then from the top of the head a fountain erupted. By the end of the course it felt as if tonnes of weight had been lifted off me. I felt so light, as if the gravitational pull of the earth was no more and I was ready to fly in the air.
Once during the course I did consider that all of this might be an imagination. But my teacher gave me advice on how to check whether it was reality or not, and I realised that this was neither imagination nor hypnotism. It was the inner truth. A layer of ignorance exists on the surface of the mind which does not allow us to realise the truth. With the right application of the Buddha's beneficent teachings, this external layer was broken and a new inner world was revealed, just like a chicken before being hatched, is in ignorance of another reality.
With this outer layer covering me no more, I felt as if I was born again; just like we could say a bird is born from its mother's womb in an egg, and then is born a second time when it hatches out of that egg. I too came out of my mother's womb with the lay ignorance covering me, and now this powerfully beneficent insight had helped break that layer, giving me a second birth. This second birth was my real birth.
I had not taken the sacred thread as per our Hindu traditional beliefs. This being due to my stubborn resolve of not taking it unless and until our society permitted everyone, including the lowest born, to take the sacred thread. As a result I was still considered a low born. I was fine, indeed even happy with this state of affairs. But now, with this sādhana, I had become twice born in the true sense of the word. After all, how does one become twice born merely by fulfilling the ritual of taking the thread? But by coming to this meditation centre and breaking the shell of ignorance, I had truly become twice born. I was blessed, immeasurably blessed.
(from the Autobiography of Mr. SN Goenka ) - Continued..