TWO

The Heart of Practice

The heart of Buddhist practice is to generate our own presence in such a way that we can touch deeply the life that is here and available in every moment. We have to be here for ourselves; we have to be here for the people we love; we have to be here for life with all its wonders. The message of our Buddhist practice is simple and clear: “I am here for you.”

In daily life, we are often lost in thought. We get lost in regrets about the past and fears about the future. We get lost in our plans, our anger, and our anxiety. At such moments, we cannot really be here for ourselves. We are not really here for life.

Practice makes it possible for us to be free—to rid ourselves of these obstacles and establish ourselves firmly in the present moment. Practice gives us methods we can use to help us live fully in the present. Practice makes it possible for us to say, “I am here for you.”

The Buddha said, “The past no longer exists, and the future is not yet here.” There is only a single moment in which we can truly be alive, and that is the present moment. Being present in the here and now is our practice.

The Five Elements

“I am here for you.” It sounds very simple. But we should ask ourselves, what does “I” actually mean? The Buddha taught that “I” is a combination of the following five elements:

These are called the five elements, or aggregates (skandhas in Sanskrit, literally “heaps”). They are the five elements that make up the personality, that make up our “I.”

Suppose I peel an orange and divide it into five sections. This orange represents our personality. Physical form is the first section of the orange, followed by our feelings, our perceptions, our mental formations, and, finally, our consciousness.

We need to learn to see our physical form as a river. Our body is not a static thing—it changes all the time. It is very important to see our physical form as something impermanent, as a river that is constantly changing. Every cell in our body is a drop of water in that river. Birth and death are happening continuously, in every moment of our daily lives. We must live every moment with death and life present at the same time. Both death and life are happening at every instant in the river of our physical body. We should train ourselves in this vision of impermanence.

When we look deeply at the nature of things, we see that in fact everything is impermanent. Nothing exists as a permanent entity; everything changes. It is said that we cannot step into the same river twice. If we look for a single, permanent entity in a river, we will not find it. The same is true of our physical body. There is no such thing as a self, no absolute, permanent entity to be found in the element we call “body.” In our ignorance we believe that there is a permanent entity in us, and our pain and suffering manifest on the basis of that ignorance. If we touch deeply the non-self nature in us, we can get out of that suffering.

The second element, the second section of the orange, is our feelings. Some feelings have their root in the physical form. For example, if you have a toothache, you have unpleasant feelings and you go to the dentist to get relief from the pain. Other feelings arise from perceptions. Perceptions can be either accurate or inaccurate, and every time we have a false perception, suffering occurs.

We should train ourselves to see our feelings also as a river. In that river, each feeling is a drop of water. Feelings are born, take shape, last for a few moments, and then disappear. As with the physical form, birth and death of feelings occur in every moment.

In meditation, we look mindfully at this river of feelings. We contemplate their arising, their remaining, and their disappearance. We witness their impermanence. When we have an unpleasant feeling, we say to ourselves, “This feeling is in me, it will stay for a while, and then it will disappear because it is impermanent.” Just by seeing the impermanence of feelings in this way we suffer a lot less. This is true for both the feelings that arise from physical form and those that arise from perceptions.

The third section of the orange is perception. Perception is a river too. It is impermanent. When I perceive something, I have an idea or an image of that thing. When I look at a person, a cloud, or a dog, I have an image of that person, that cloud, or that dog. That is the river of perceptions.

The Buddha said that our perceptions are very often false, and since error is there, suffering is there also. We must pay very close attention to this. We have to learn how to look at our perceptions without getting caught by them. We must always ask ourselves the question, “Is my perception accurate?” Just asking that question is a big help.

In most cases, our perceptions are inaccurate, and we suffer because we are too sure of them. Look at your perceptions and smile to them. Breathe, look deeply into their nature, and you will see that there are many errors in them. For example, that person you are thinking about has no desire to harm you, but you think that he does. It is important not to be a victim of your false perceptions. If you are the victim of your false perceptions, you will suffer a lot. You have to sit down and look at perceptions very calmly. You have to look into the deepest part of their nature in order to detect what is false about them.

The fourth section of the orange is the forty-nine mental formations, such as fear, hate, jealousy, love, understanding, compassion, hope, and so on. “Formation” is a slightly technical word we use to mean things, conditioned phenomena. There are physical formations and mental formations. A flower, for example, is a physical formation. Let us consider a flower. If we really look into its nature, we see sun, clouds, rain, minerals, soil, and the gardener. We see all the conditions that came together to manifest in a thing called flower. The flower is conditioned by what could be called the non-flower elements. The sun is a non-flower element, and the clouds as well. The non-flower elements have helped the flower to manifest.

When conditions are sufficient, something manifests. That is what we call a formation. The flower is a formation, and so are the cloud and the sun. I am a formation, and you are a formation.

Your anger and your hope are mental formations. In my tradition of Buddhism, we speak in terms of fifty-one mental formations. When I was a novice, I had to learn them by heart. The elements of feelings and perceptions are considered mental formations, but these two are considered to be so significant that they are treated as their own separate skandhas. That leaves another forty-nine. Our fear, compassion, anger, and mindfulness are among the forty-nine remaining mental formations.

Finally, there is the fifth element, consciousness. Consciousness is like the soil in which the seeds of the mental formations are preserved. Each of the fifty-one mental formations lies buried in the soil of consciousness in the form of a seed (bija in Sanskrit). When the conditions are sufficient, these seeds manifest as mental formations, such as perceptions, feelings, anger, compassion, and so on.

The seeds of negativity are always there, but very positive seeds also exist, such as the seeds of compassion, tolerance, and love. These seeds are all there in the soil, but without rain they cannot manifest. Our practice is to recognize and water the positive seeds. If you recognize the seed of compassion in yourself, you should make sure that it is watered several times every day.

So the practice consists of looking deeply into the ground of consciousness to identify the seeds that are there. These seeds were transmitted to us by our ancestors, including most recently our parents, and were planted during our youth. They are our genetic and spiritual heritage, and we need to be aware of them. Through the practice of deep looking, we can identify the positive seeds that we want to water every day, and train ourselves not to water the negative ones. This is called “selective watering.” The Buddha recommended methods for doing this, and even a few days of this practice can bring about a transformation.

In summary, the “I” is made up of the body and mind (namarupa in Sanskrit). The physical form is body, and all the other elements are mind. When we look deeply into these five elements, we do not see any absolute, permanent identity. The five rivers are impermanent. If you practice in such a way that harmony is established in the realm of the five elements, then joy, peace, and happiness will be possible. Through breathing, through bringing your mind back to your body, through the method of deep looking, you will reestablish harmony and peace in the realm of the five elements. You will become a happy formation, pleasing to encounter, and you will be able to bring happiness to the living beings around you.

Unity of Body and Mind

“I am here” means doing what is necessary for the five elements of your personality to be fully established in the present moment. “I am here” is a practice, not a mere assertion. The verb “to be” here means to generate your own presence, your real presence. You must be here, with your body and mind united. In our daily life, we lose ourselves all the time. The body is here, but the mind is somewhere else—in the past, in the future, carried away by anger, jealousy, fear, and so on. The mind is not really present with the body. We are not really here.

To be truly here, we have to bring the body back to the mind and the mind back to the body. We have to bring about what is called the unity of body and mind. This is very important in Buddhist meditation. Often, the body and the mind go in different directions, and so we are not fully here. Therefore, we have to do what is necessary for them to come back together again. Buddhism teaches us methods for doing this, such as mindfulness of the breath.

The breath is like a bridge that links our body and mind. If you come back to your breathing, your body and your mind begin to come back together again. To breathe mindfully, you can say silently to yourself,

It only takes a few seconds of mindful breathing for your body and mind to begin to come back together again. It is very easy. A child can do it. You just concentrate on your in-breath and on your out-breath. You don’t think about anything else. The past, the future, your worries, your anger, and your despair are not there anymore. Only one thing is there: your in-breath and your out-breath.

You have to deeply experience breathing in and breathing out. In a sitting position, you can really enjoy breathing in and breathing out. Go ahead and enjoy breathing for twenty minutes, just being here. You are here, and you have nothing to do except enjoy mindful breathing.

This practice can really be very pleasant. I’m breathing in, great! It’s enjoyable, very pleasant. Imagine that you have a stuffy nose or that you have asthma. There is no air in your room, and you are suffering. Now, your nose is clear. You do not have asthma, and you have plenty of air. That’s wonderful! You breathe out and you smile. This is a practice we can all do. Even children of five or six can begin training in mindfulness of the breath. In the summertime, lots of young people come to Plum Village, our monastery and practice center in France, and many of them practice mindfulness of the breath.

Descartes said, “I think, therefore I am.” In light of the Buddha’s teaching, you might say, “I think, therefore I am . . . not here.” You are lost in your thinking, so you are really not here. For you to truly be here, thinking has to stop. As you are practicing mindfulness of the breath, the object of your attention is simply the breath. You stop thinking about the past, the future, your pain, your plans, and so forth, and you start to be really here, body and mind united.

When Nelson Mandela made his first visit to France, the press asked him what he would most like to do. He said, “Sit and do nothing. Ever since I got out of prison, I haven’t had time to just sit down and do nothing.”

Sitting on a cushion and doing nothing but breathing is something Nelson Mandela cannot do. You can do it for him. Be there with your breath. Use mindfulness of the breath to unite your body and mind. Establish yourself in the here and now so that you can touch life in a deep way, in this moment. Joy and happiness become real through mindfulness of the breath.

The Address of Life

You can practice “I am here” through mindful breathing and mindful walking. When you walk, you should be here. When you walk, it is not for the future; it is not in order to get somewhere. With each step you take, you arrive in the here and now. You can walk very slowly or you can walk fast, it’s up to you, but take your steps mindfully. As you are walking, you can coordinate your steps with your breath. For slow walking meditation, one step is enough. One step: I breathe in. One step: I breathe out.

As you breathe in, you practice arriving. You have arrived. Your destination is the here and now. In daily life, you are in the habit of running because you think happiness is impossible in the present. This is a habit that was handed down to you by your ancestors, by your parents. Happiness does not seem possible to you in the here and now, so you look for it in the distant future. The practice consists of stopping that habit of running.

Remember the words of the Buddha, “The past no longer exists, and the future is not here yet.” The only moment in which you can be truly alive is the present moment. The present moment is the destination, the point to arrive at. Every time you breathe in and take a step, you arrive: “Breathing in, I arrive. Breathing out, I arrive.”

The address of the buddhas and the bodhisattvas is “here and now.” That is the address of happiness, the address of life. The Buddha said, “Life is accessible only in the present moment.” Life with all its wonders is accessible right now. So we train in coming back to the present moment.

When you are sitting on your meditation cushion, you are established in the present moment. At that moment, you touch life deeply. During walking meditation, you do the same thing. Each step brings you back to your true home, the home of your spiritual ancestors—the present moment. It is in the present moment that life, peace, joy, happiness, and well-being are possible.

We can also practice “I am here” when we are eating. We have to establish ourselves in the here and now in order to truly eat. All through the meal, we should really be here with the people at the table. As we chew our food, we should really be here with what we are eating. We can get deeply in touch with the food, which is a gift from the earth and sky.

I use gathas, practice poems, during meals. When I chew, I say, “I have arrived, I am home” Then happiness becomes a possibility. It is a great joy to be able to be here and have a meal with family or friends. We have nothing to do except to eat in such a way that peace and life become possible. Do not think about anything; do not do anything. Be truly here for the meal and for the others who are present.

There are two things that should be the objects of your attention when you are eating a meal. They are the food and the people around you. Touch these two deeply and live completely in the present moment so that you can experience peace, joy, and happiness. You can be extremely happy eating this way. You have to eat like a free person. Don’t allow worries, thoughts, and plans to drag you away from the here and now. Having a meal is a very deep practice. You can eat in such a way that you touch the ultimate dimension of life.

Everything you are seeking, you should seek in the present moment. To put it in Christian terms, the Kingdom of God is in the present moment. We don’t need to die in order to enter into the Kingdom of God; in fact, we have to be very much alive. With a mindful breath, with a step taken mindfully, we can enter the Kingdom of God. The Kingdom of God is now—or never.

Stopping and Deep Looking

Here is a practice poem you can learn by heart. It can also be sung:

You can use this poem during sitting meditation or during walking meditation. As you breathe in or take a step, you say, “I have arrived.” Here and now. I am not running anymore. I have been running all my life, but now I am deciding to stop because I have learned that life is here. When you stop, happiness starts to be possible.

Stop! The street sign reminds you. Stop running, because life is here, in the present moment. We have to train in that. As you breathe out, you say: “I am home.” I am already home, I don’t have to run. I am at home, in my true home. The address of my true home is clear: life, here and now. Peace is something that becomes possible the moment you stop. Stopping is an essential aspect of Buddhist meditation.

If you look into Buddhist meditation, you will find that it has two aspects: first, stopping, and then, deep looking. When you achieve stopping, you become solid and concentrated. That allows you to practice looking deeply into what’s here, and looking deeply into the nature of things brings insight. This understanding will liberate you from your suffering.

Stopping (shamatha in Sanskrit) and deep looking (vipasyana) are the elements of Buddhist meditation. Deep looking is possible once stopping has taken place. On the cushion, we must stop. During walking meditation, we must stop. Even when we are in the kitchen washing the dishes, we must wash the dishes in such a way that stopping is possible. Every moment of dishwashing should give you joy, peace, and happiness. If it doesn’t, you are not washing dishes as a practitioner. The kitchen is a place of practice. The monks and nuns and laypeople of Plum Village always wash the dishes with mindfulness. When we wash dishes, it is not only to get the dishes clean. It is to live every minute of the washing. So wash each bowl and each plate in such a way that joy, peace, and happiness are possible. Imagine you are giving a bath to the baby Buddha. It is a sacred act.

“I have arrived, I am home.” Through these two phrases, you can experience a lot of joy and happiness. When I walk over to the table to pick something up, I remain concentrated on my steps the whole way. In that way, peace and life are possible. When I walk, I don’t hurry to arrive. Why? Because I arrive every moment. I have already arrived. We should train in that.

The fourth line of this little poem means the same thing as the first and second lines. You arrive in the here and now, the ultimate reality. This is truly the practice of stopping, and it is very important. We have been running all our lives, as well as in our previous lives, that is, in the form of our ancestors and our parents. Now we have to train ourselves in stopping. We can learn to stop and touch each moment of the day. When you walk mindfully, each step you take can heal and nourish you. It can put you deeply in touch with life, and life’s refreshing and healing elements will be fully available to you. Get deeply in touch with the positive elements that are present in yourself and around you.

After walking for a few minutes with the words of this poem, you will see that you are much more solid. The past and the future can no longer grab you and pull you away from life. As a result, you are much more yourself. You have more sovereignty. Taking back your sovereignty is the practice. You are more solid and more free. The greater your freedom, the greater your happiness.

We are not talking about political freedom here. We are talking about freedom from distress, from attachment, from anger, from fear. You are free from all that. Your happiness comes from that freedom. Through the practice of stopping, you cultivate that solidity and freedom. Through the practice of stopping, you will achieve it.

“In the ultimate I dwell.” There are two dimensions to reality. One is called the historical dimension, and the other is called the ultimate dimension. Suppose we are looking at the ocean. On the surface we see waves rising and falling. From the point of view of the waves, there is birth and death, high and low, rising and falling. There are distinctions between waves.

But each wave is made of a substance called water. It is a wave, but at the same time, it is water. Concepts such as birth and death, higher and lower, rising and falling apply only to the waves, not to the water itself. So the waves represent the historical dimension, and the water represents the ultimate dimension.

When we look deeply at our own nature, we can get in touch with its ultimate reality. This ultimate nature is free of birth, free of death, free from any notion such as high, low, this, that, and so forth. In Buddhism, we call this nirvana, or “suchness.” Nirvana is the extinction of all concepts, such as existence, nonexistence, death, and birth.

You have this dimension called the ultimate within you. In fact, you are free from birth and from death, free from existence and from nonexistence. Your true nature is the nature of nirvana. If you are from the Christian tradition, you could say that this ultimate dimension is God. The Kingdom of God is free from birth and death, free from high and low, free from existence and nonexistence.

You know very well that the wave does not need to die in order to become water. It is water in the here and now. You think you are subject to birth and death, but if you touch your nature deeply, you will see that it is the nature of no-birth and no-death. This is something that can make your fear disappear, and true happiness can only exist when fear is no longer there.

Touching the ultimate dimension is very important. The wave can live the life of a wave, but it can also do better. It can live every moment of its life deeply touching its nature of no-birth and no-death, that is, its nature as water. If the wave realizes that it is water, its fear disappears. It enjoys its rising and falling much more. Rising is joyful, and falling is, too. There is no birth and there is no death. That is the highest level of the teaching.

Practicing with a Group

When we practice with a community, a Sangha, we should take advantage of the group energy. Everybody is breathing mindfully; everybody is walking mindfully. We can see the Sangha as a boat. We have bricks of suffering in us, and without a boat we are in danger of sinking in the river of suffering. If you throw a stone in the river, it will sink, but if you have a boat, you can transport tons of pebbles and stones. The same thing is true for your pain and suffering. If you know how to use the boat made of the energy generated by the Sangha, you will not be drowned in your suffering. Because you put your trust in the Sangha, you can have confidence. You can say to yourself, “I am surrounded by the Sangha. The Sangha is generating the energies of compassion and mindfulness. I have confidence in that.”

The vow “I take refuge in the Sangha” is a practice, not a declaration of faith. We need to trust in the Sangha. It is made up of people who are practicing mindfulness, who generate the collective energy of mindfulness, every moment of the day. You should put your trust in that energy.

The energy of mindfulness is the energy of the Buddha, and it can be produced by anybody. Buddha is the ability to be mindful. Every time you take a step or breathe mindfully, you generate the energy of the Buddha. This protects you and heals you. But if you are a beginner, the energy you generate may not be strong enough to handle the suffering in you. You need to combine your energy with the energy of the group. In that way healing and transformation can take place very quickly.

So taking refuge in the Sangha is very important. Even if you still have a lot of suffering and pain in you, you need to place your trust in the Sangha. You should say, “Dear Sangha, I entrust all of my suffering and all my pain to you.”

Learn to walk, learn to sit down and breathe, and let the Sangha help you. Cultivate solidity. You are somebody; you are something. You are a positive factor for your family, for society, for the world. You have to recover yourself, to be yourself. You have to become solid again. You can practice solidity in everyday life. Every step, every breath you take should help you become more solid. When you have solidity, freedom is there too.

Freedom is the basis of all happiness. Without freedom, there is no happiness. This means freedom from despair, freedom from resentment, freedom from jealousy and fear. Genuine practice is practice that helps you become freer and more solid. Every step you take, every breath you take, every minute of sitting meditation, and every bowl you wash should give you more solidity and freedom. If your practice does not bring you that, it is not genuine. It is not working. You should consult a brother or sister in the Sangha to change your way of practicing. The Sangha is always there to provide you with support.

“I am here” means that my body and mind come together in mindful breathing, in walking meditation. Our motto is: body and mind together. When you achieve that, your presence is genuine and you are truly alive. This genuine presence is the most beautiful gift you can offer the Sangha, and your brothers and sisters are doing their best to offer you their genuine presence as well.

So take advantage of their real presence and respond to them in kind. Offer them your presence and do not lose yourself anymore in the past, in the future, in worries or despair. Come back to yourself. Breathe properly, walk properly, touch the earth as a miracle, touch life as a miracle. Realize the unity of body and mind. In this way, you will offer something very precious: your genuine presence in the here and now.