chapter one

A Framework for the Frame

The noble eightfold path was the first teaching the Buddha gave to his first disciples, and the prime teaching he gave to his last. In this way, it provides the frame for all his other teachings, not only in temporal terms, but also in terms of how those teachings should be understood. All of his teachings—including such topics as dependent co-arising, not-self, compassion, and emptiness—find their true meaning in terms of how they fit into the factors of the noble eightfold path. So an understanding of the noble eightfold path is essential to understanding everything else the Buddha taught.

The Buddha had several reasons for choosing the metaphor of a path to frame his teachings. The Sāmaññaphala Sutta (DN 2) contrasts his teachings with those of six of his contemporaries, and the contrast gives a sense of what the image of “path” implies. The other teachings fall into three sorts: four presenting maps of reality that deny the power of human choice, one focusing on the person of the teacher, and one providing a strategy of agnosticism for avoiding the pitfalls of debate. King Ajātasattu, who in this sutta is describing these teachings to the Buddha, points out that none of them offer any fruit—i.e., any visible benefit to those who adopt them.

This is precisely where they differ from the noble eightfold path. Repeatedly in the Canon, the concept of “path” is paired with “fruit”: the rewards that come from following the path. Similarly, the Dhamma—one of the Buddha’s names for his teachings—is often paired with “attha,” which carries several related meanings, such as “goal,” “benefit,” and “meaning.” The implication here is that the Buddha’s teachings are worthwhile because they are a means to a beneficial goal—and that they reveal their true meaning only when that goal is attained. The Buddha taught these teachings so that his listeners would put them into action and reap the fruit for themselves. This point is reinforced by other metaphors that he and his disciples used to describe his teachings: a vehicle, a set of relay chariots, a raft to the further shore. The path is a means to an end, and finds its meaning and value in leading to an end that’s worthwhile.

Now, to follow a path, you need a map. And although the Buddha didn’t attempt to provide a map to all of reality, he did sketch enough of a map so that people could negotiate the path all the way to its goal. It’s important to note, though, that the maps he provided—the various levels of right view—are part of the path itself. There is no sense in his teachings that theory is separate from practice. After all, theory is a result of the act of theorizing, and its maps can lead people to act on them: to adopt them as guides to action. Right theory is a part of right practice, in that properly understanding the purpose of the path and the means for achieving that purpose is a necessary step in actually reaching its end. And because the path is a series of actions inspired by right view, one of the primary functions of right view is to explain the nature of action in such a way that shows how a path of practice is possible and how to choose which path is the best to follow.

In particular, the map of right view has to explain causality to show how causes and effects work on the path, and how the path leads to its fruit. For the purpose of explaining the path, it has to show that experience is not totally determined by past actions or by outside sources, or that it’s totally arbitrary. It also has to show how actions have consequences, which actions have the best consequences, and how far those consequences can extend. Otherwise, the idea of teaching a path would make no sense. If actions were totally determined, no listener could choose to follow the path. If actions had no results, the concept of a path of action leading anyplace would be nonsense. If there were no way to say that the results of one action would be better than another, or what those consequences might be, there would be no grounds for judging one path to be better than other alternatives. This is why the Buddha’s teachings on causality, kamma (action), rebirth, the possible worlds into which one might be reborn, and the possibility of going beyond rebirth are all central to right view, in that they explain how a path of action can be chosen and lead to the best possible fruit.

Also, because the act of holding right view is itself an action, right view has to explain itself: how it is to be acquired and how it is to be developed so as to reach the goal toward which it aims. The teaching of right view also has to explain the correct way of holding to right view so as not to get in the way of the rest of the path. This self-reflexive nature of right view is one of its distinctive qualities, and has important practical consequences that will become clear in the course of this book.

All correct descriptions of the path are instances of right view, and to convey them correctly is an exercise in right speech, another factor of the path. But there is more to the path than that. This means that the actual path is not encompassed in the words describing it. Instead, it consists of all the actions inspired by right view. Because these actions give rise to knowledge of a personal and individual sort, something not contained in the words of the texts, the actual knowledge acquired in the course of the path augments right view in a personal way. In fact, as we will see, this personal knowledge is what refines right view and brings it to its culmination.

Because right view is a part of the path, it, too, counts as a means, and not a goal. Here again, it’s like a map: Maps are not goals to which you aim. Instead, they point beyond themselves. The purpose of the path is not to confirm or to arrive at right view. Instead, the path includes right view as one of its factors for the purpose of arriving at a goal that—although it harmonizes with right view—goes considerably beyond right view and all the other factors of the path. In this way, all the factors of the path, including right view, are not simply actions. They are also strategies that have to be employed with a sensitivity to context. One of the functions of right view is to explain not only how but also in which contexts it and all the other strategies of the path are to be adopted, together with how and in which contexts they are to be skillfully abandoned. The factors of the path are right in that they lead to a worthwhile goal that transcends them.

In depicting his teachings as a path, the Buddha was not simply indulging in a personal preference. In his understanding of the nature of conscious experience, all living beings are following paths of one sort or another, even if they don’t realize it, in that their actions are leading to results (§3). This means that the act of teaching is also part of a path leading to a particular destination, even if the teachers are not fully aware of where the act of teaching is leading them or their listeners. One of the Buddha’s claims to authority is that he is so fully acquainted with the territory of action that he knows where various courses of action—and this includes the act of giving or adopting a teaching—will lead.

Thus, in his eyes, every teaching should be judged in terms of what end is served in the act of teaching it or adopting it. This means that a teaching is not to be judged simply in terms of how reasonable it is or what evidence can be cited to prove it. It’s to be judged as an action, and evaluated as to what sort of actions it inspires—including the way it is held—and the results that those actions produce.

This is because experience at the six senses—the five physical senses and the mind—is teleological. In other words, each act or event of consciousness is directed toward an end, regardless of whether the individual engaged in sensory experience fully realizes it or not. Consciousness is also active and intentional—in other words, it doesn’t simply react passively to stimuli. It actively seeks out stimuli and tries to shape them to its ends. Because sensory experience is active and proactive in these ways, it is a type of kamma.

The Buddha’s term for the kammically purposeful and constructed nature of sensory experience is that it’s saṅkhata, which can be translated as “fabricated,” “constructed,” or “put together.” In this book, I will adopt the translation, “fabricated,” but it should be understood in a way that includes the other possible translations as well. In other words, to say that an experience is fabricated or a fabrication (saṅkhāra) does not mean that it’s bad or a pack of lies, simply that it’s assembled with conscious intent from the raw material available to the mind.

The Buddha describes the process of fabrication in many ways in the Canon, most commonly in terms of the fabrication of five khandhas. “Khandha” can be translated as “heap,” “mass,” or—most commonly—“aggregate.” The use of the term “aggregate” for khandha comes from a distinction, popular in eighteenth and nineteenth century European philosophy, between conglomerates of things that work together in an organic unity—called “systems”—and other types of conglomerates that are no more than random collections of things, called “aggregates.” Using “aggregate” to translate khandha conveys the useful point that these processes, which can seem to have an organic unity, are actually shaped by discrete choices and their results. Still, it’s important to bear in mind that the mind does shape the aggregates toward purposes, and those purposes can be more or less unified—a fact that makes a path of practice possible.

The five aggregates are:

There’s something of an anomaly in that the term “fabrication” covers all five aggregates and yet is listed as one of the five. SN 22:79 (§120) helps to explain why: The mental act of fabrication shapes the actual experience of all physical and mental experiences in the dimensions of space and time. It chooses among the potentials for any of the aggregates made available by past actions, and turns them into the actual experience of those aggregates in the present. “Fabrication” as a name for one of the aggregates refers specifically to this mental process. As a term for all five aggregates, “fabrication” covers both the processes of fabrication and the fabricated phenomena—physical and mental—that result.

SN 22:79 also defines the aggregates in terms of verbs—even form “deforms”—making the point that these aggregates are processes and activities, rather than solid things.

The Buddha describes the origination of the aggregates—in other words, the causal factors that give rise to them—in two different ways. In one description (§116), the causal factors are these: The origination of form (in this case, the form of one’s own body) is nutriment or food; the origination of feeling, perception, and fabrication is contact; and the origination of consciousness is name-&-form, a blanket term to cover the other four aggregates. At first glance, these factors would seem to be totally impersonal and operating without purpose: Nutriment and contact on their own, for instance, have no will to cause anything. However, nutriment on its own cannot cause form. It has to be taken, i.e., you have to eat it. The origination of form is actually in the act of taking nutriment, as when you feed the body to sustain it. Similarly, when the first four aggregates are listed under the heading of name-&-form (§130), “fabrication” is divided into the sub-factors of intention and attention, which in turn influence contact, showing that the driving force behind these seemingly purposeless conditions is actually willed. It’s shaped by which intentions you choose to act on—in §116 the Buddha defines fabrication as “intention”—and by which ways of paying attention you choose to apply. Each of these choices, in formal terms, is teleological: It has an aim.

This point is made clear in the second description of the origination of the aggregates (§281), in which each aggregate results from the acts of relishing, welcoming, and remaining fastened. This reflects the larger view of the fabrication of experience offered in other parts of the Canon, such as the statement in §9 that desire is the root of all phenomena, and in §10 that the mind is the forerunner of all phenomena. These facts, in turn, are shaped by the observation that all beings are driven by the need to feed, both physically and mentally (§112, SN 12:63.) The aggregates, in this analysis, have their origin in desire.

This, then, is the context for understanding the fabrication of the aggregates described in SN 22:79: Fabrication takes the potentials for the aggregates and shapes them “for the sake of” the functions that the activities of the aggregates can perform. That “for the sake of” aims at the pleasure that those activities can provide and on which the mind, when it assumes the identity of a “being,” can feed (§111).

Yet, even though the larger context of fabrication emphasizes the willed nature of the aggregates, the more impersonal descriptions of these processes make two crucial and connected points:

1) The first is that once these processes are set in motion, they follow laws of their own over which the mind has little control. This means that fabrications, even though they are intentional, can have unintended consequences. And as the teaching on kamma and rebirth indicates, many of these consequences can last for a long, long time—so long that we often can’t trace the results of an action back to their source, which is why we’re often ignorant of how causality works. Even though desire is the root of all phenomena, anyone who is ignorant of the more impersonal patterns of causality can wind up creating conditions that are anything but desirable. People can put themselves on the paths to the lower realms, not because they want to go to those realms, but because they don’t know where they’re going. They don’t see that their search for pleasure from the aggregates in the short term involves actions that actually lead to long-term pain. The Canon illustrates this point with the stories of people who think that their means of livelihood will lead them to heaven but will actually lead them to hell (§§190–191).

2) Because the raw material for fabricating the aggregates comes from our past fabrication of aggregates, it is not entirely malleable to our will. We have to work within the limited range of which past actions are currently ripening, and this ripening raw material follows its own causal laws. In some cases, it provides us with opportunities to fashion the aggregates that will provide the pleasure for which we hunger; in others, it doesn’t.

The Buddha’s twofold analysis of the origination of the aggregates provides his formal explanation for the human predicament: We find ourselves in a place that we may or may not like, and where we cannot simply rest, because we need to feed, both physically and mentally. In response to our search for food, we find that some circumstances respond to our desires and others don’t. We’re also in the dark about the long-term results of our choices. From experience, we’ve learned that even when circumstances are responsive, they don’t always yield the long-term results for which we might hope. We’re not even sure which results come from which actions.

It’s for this reason that the Buddha, when he had found a path of action that gave totally beneficial results, felt that it would be worth teaching to others, to help them get themselves out of this predicament.

To understand what this path might accomplish, and how it goes about accomplishing its aim, it’s good to return to the Buddha’s first and last teachings to see how they present the goal and methods of the path. Although the path itself provides the frame for understanding the rest of the Dhamma, the first and last teachings provide a framework for understanding the frame.

The first teaching, to the five brethren (§1), makes three major points about the noble eightfold path: It leads to the end of dukkha (suffering, stress), it leads to nibbāna (unbinding), and it functions as a middle way. The last teaching, to Subhadda (§2), makes one major point about the path: It’s not simply a path of practice leading to unbinding and the end of suffering. It’s the only one.

We will discuss these points one by one, fleshing them out with information from other suttas in the Canon.

The end of dukkha. Dukkha is a term that can mean pain, suffering, and stress. In this book, I will use these terms interchangeably, depending on which seems most appropriate for the context.

When discussing the noble eightfold path, the Buddha focused most often on the fact that following it leads to the end of suffering. This point is so important in his teachings that he twice stated, “Both formerly & now, it’s only stress that I describe, and the cessation of stress” (SN 22:86; MN 22). Any question that interfered with this aim, he would put aside. The map of right view, like a fire-escape diagram that includes nothing but information needed to find the fire escape, includes only the views necessary to understand suffering and the way to put an end to it. Too much information would clutter a fire-escape map with distractions that would get in the way of its intended purpose.

To understand how the noble eightfold path works in putting an end to suffering, it’s necessary to understand the Buddha’s analysis of what suffering is and how it’s caused.

He distinguished between two types of suffering: the suffering caused by the fact that fabrications are inconstant—in other words, they offer no steady foundation for happiness—and the suffering caused by craving and clinging, based on ignorance (avijjā). His focus was on the second type of suffering, although as we will see in the next section, once the second type of suffering is ended, the first will inevitably end as well.

Suffering is felt on a level of experience that is totally immediate and personal. In fact, it’s so personal that no one can directly experience another person’s suffering, just as no one can enter into your experience of “blue” to see if your “blue” is the same as theirs. We may see the outward signs of another person’s suffering, just as we can point to an object and agree that it’s blue, but the actual stress and pain of one person’s suffering is something that no one else can feel. The same holds true for the causes of suffering: No one else can directly experience your own craving, clinging, and ignorance. And as it turns out, the crucial factors in putting an end to suffering are experienced on this same inward level as well.

This means that the Buddha’s teachings deal primarily with what is totally personal in your experience. In formal terms, this is called phenomenology: speaking about consciousness as it’s directly experienced.

However, even though the focus of the Buddha’s teachings is on a problem that is immediately personal, his analysis of the problem is not subjective. In other words, even though the precise texture of your suffering is something that no one else can know, it’s not so individual that it doesn’t follow an objective pattern, true for all beings. The Buddha claimed—and this claim has been confirmed by many, many people from many different backgrounds over the millennia—that he found the common pattern underlying all suffering, and so was able to discover a path of practice that worked in ending all suffering.

This is one of the reasons that he called the path “ariya,” which we usually translate as “noble,” but which can also mean “universal.” The path is noble partly because it’s universally true. Even though the Buddha was a member of the warrior caste in ancient India, there’s nothing of his personal or cultural background contained in the path. This is because suffering is something pre-cultural: We all experience it from birth, well before culture has made any imprint on our minds. Part of the Buddha’s genius was that he was able to dig deeply enough into his mind to find the pre-cultural patterns of how we all suffer and how we can all learn not to suffer. Although his teachings are expressed in an ancient language, they point to an experience prior to all languages.

The primary factor underlying every case of suffering is avijjā, a term that can be translated as “ignorance” or “lack of skill.” Both meanings are appropriate here. On the one hand, avijjā means not knowing four truths about suffering: what it is, what causes it, what its cessation is, and what path of practice leads to its cessation. On the other hand, avijjā means not having mastered the skills appropriate to these truths. These truths are not simply four interesting facts about suffering. Instead, they are meant to be applied as a way of cutting up the pie of experience—i.e., dividing it into four categories—so that a person desiring the end of suffering can know what to do with phenomena that fall into any of the four categories: phenomena that count as suffering should be comprehended, those that count as the cause of suffering should be abandoned, those that count as the cessation of suffering should be realized, and those that count as the path should be developed.

Information about these four truths—which are also called noble, in that they’re universally true—is something that one person can give to another. This is why the Buddha saw that it was worthwhile to teach them to others. However, the skill in mastering the duties appropriate to the truths is something that no one can do for anyone else. This is why he also said, “It’s for you to strive ardently. Tathāgatas simply point out the way” (§379). The path is something that each person has to master for him- or herself.

But what is suffering? Unlike later commentators in the Buddhist tradition, the Buddha did not give a formal definition of what suffering is. Instead, he simply listed many cases of suffering, so that his listeners could recognize that he was talking about something with which they were already familiar, and which they would recognize as a problem: “Birth is stressful, aging is stressful, death is stressful; sorrow, lamentation, pain, distress, & despair are stressful; association with the unbeloved is stressful, separation from the loved is stressful, not getting what is wanted is stressful” (§106).

This pattern of not formally defining his central terms is a distinctive feature of the Buddha’s teachings. He is basically teaching a course for training the mind to end suffering and achieve true happiness, but he never gives a formal definition for “mind,” “suffering,” or “happiness.” What he defines in detail is the course of training, because the words defining the factors of the training can be immediately put into practice. As for the other terms, when a person is on the path, his/her sense of what the mind is, and of what suffering and happiness are, will inevitably develop, so it’s best that these things not be nailed down too firmly in words.

Still, for strategic purposes, the Buddha did present a way of explaining suffering that points to how it can be ended: He identified suffering with clinging to the five aggregates. Because clinging can be abandoned, this explanation gives you a handle on what to do about suffering: Drop the clinging, and suffering will end.

The word “clinging” (upādāna) he defined as passion and delight, and the Buddha cited four types of clinging:

A bit of reflection will confirm that these four types of clinging contain all the details of how we define ourselves, both personally and culturally: in terms of the sensual pleasures we enjoy, our habitual customs and ways of doing things, our views about the world and our place in the world, and our views about who we are. This means that, to end suffering, we have to stop clinging to the way we construct our identities. This is a radical job.

How radical is suggested by another meaning of the word upādāna: feeding. We suffer in the way we feed—mentally as well as physically—on the pleasures of fabrication, in particular our fabrication of our sense of self and our place in the world.

This means that the end of suffering will require the end of feeding. And that, in turn, will mean the end of fabrication, because fabrication is driven by the need to feed. Still, the Buddha recognized that the mind cannot simply bring the process of feeding to a screeching halt, because you can’t end hunger simply by willing it away. Instead, your hunger has to be retrained. In other words, the mind has to be trained to feed in new, more skillful ways that will wean it off its more unskillful ways of feeding—i.e., ways of feeding that obviously do harm—and ultimately bring it to a dimension where there is no hunger: an unfabricated dimension where there is no need to feed at all. This is why the path to the end of suffering is also the path to nibbāna, for nibbāna is precisely that: the unfabricated.

Nibbāna. The word nibbāna literally means “unbinding.” In everyday Pāli usage, this word described the going-out of a fire, and reflected what people in the Buddha’s time thought was happening when a fire went out. As they saw it, fire was caused by the agitation or provocation of the fire-property, a potential that existed in a latent state everywhere in the physical world. When provoked, the fire-property would be ignited and then cling to its fuel, which was how a burning fire was sustained. The fire would go out when it let go of its fuel, and the fire-property—freed—would return to its earlier unagitated state.

The Buddha used the analogy between the freed fire and the released mind to make several points about total release:

• It is a cool state of calm and peace.

• It comes from letting go of clinging. Just as a burning fire is trapped, not by the fuel, but by its own clinging to the fuel, the mind is trapped not by the aggregates, but by its clinging to the aggregates. This is why, when it lets go, the aggregates can’t keep it from gaining release.

• Just as a fire, when it has gone out, can’t be said to have gone east, west, north, or south, similarly, a person fully released can’t be described as existing, not existing, both, or neither. This point relates to the fact that, through the process of fabrication, you define yourself by the desires you cling to (§111). Because the released mind is free of clinging, it can’t be defined and so can’t be described. And because the world of your experience is defined by the desires you cling to, a released mind cannot be located in any world at all.

In fact, unbinding, in the ultimate sense, is not even a dhamma, i.e., an act or object of consciousness. Some texts suggest that it is the highest of dhammas, but they apparently are referring to the moment when unbinding is realized. Other texts, more in line with the Buddha’s observation that all dhammas are rooted in desire, call unbinding the transcending of all dhammas (§351). It’s a type of consciousness, but one not included in the consciousness aggregate, as it is outside of space and time. It doesn’t count as a dhamma because (a) it’s not an act; (b) it’s without object—or in the Buddha’s words, without surface (anidassana) (§370); and (c) it’s not the object of any other consciousness.

The analogy between a released fire and a released mind, however, is not perfect. Unlike fire, a released mind does not return to a previous latent state and so cannot be provoked to leave its released state ever again. Outside of space and time and the worlds of the six senses, it is not fabricated by anything and does not fabricate anything else. This is why release—unbinding—brings all suffering to an end.

The fact that unbinding is unfabricated means that it’s not subject to aging, illness, and death. This is why it’s the object of what the Buddha called the noble search. Prior to his awakening, he had identified two types of search: the ignoble search, which is devoted to finding happiness in things subject to aging, illness, and death; and the noble search, devoted to finding what does not age, grow ill, or die (§17). The fact that the eightfold path leads to the deathless is another reason why it is termed noble. And for the same reason, because the four truths about suffering are a part of such a path, they are called noble as well.

However, the fact that the path is fabricated, while its goal is not, presents a paradox: How can a fabricated path lead to something not fabricated? The solution to this paradox lies in the Buddha’s analysis of the causal principle underlying fabrication, a point that will be covered in more detail in Chapter 3, on right view. Here we can simply note that the basic pattern of that causal principle is such that it creates a complex, non-linear system, and one of the features of such a system is that the factors that maintain it can be pushed in a direction where they cause the system to collapse. In the same way, the processes of fabrication can be pushed in a direction, through the factors of the path, to a point where they bring the system of fabricated experience to collapse, leaving an opening to the unfabricated. This is why the Buddha says that the path is a type of action that leads to the end of action (§58; §136)—it’s a fabricated path to the unfabricated (§11).

In practical terms, this means that the factors of the path—because they are fabricated—have to be developed to a certain point, after which they’re abandoned along with all other fabrications. This is one of the reasons why it’s so important not to confuse the path with the goal. They are two radically different things. Some aspects of the path—such as desire, conceit, and the need to fabricate a healthy sense of self to engage in right effort—will be totally abandoned on awakening (§12; §217; §221). Others, which harmonize with awakening, will be abandoned at the moment of awakening but afterwards will still be available for use (§§13–16). The texts describe, for instance, how the awakened are virtuous, even though they are not defined by their virtue (§164; §325), and how even the completely awakened use the contemplations of right view and the practice of right mindfulness and right concentration as pleasant abidings (§§345–347).

Still, one of the features of each factor of the path is that it allows for its own transcendence. In the case of right view, part of this potential for self-transcendence lies in its self-referential quality, which we have already noted: It describes action, and it itself is an action, so it can be used to describe itself—when, as a strategy, it is skillful and should be developed, and when it gets in the way of a higher skill and so should be dropped. This is how it provides a perspective on itself that allows for its transcendence (§132). When trained by the other factors of the path, it can then be turned around and applied to them to provide for their transcendence as well.

The Canon uses many metaphors to describe this self-transcending aspect of the path, such as the relay chariots that are abandoned on reaching their goal (§15), and the raft that is abandoned on reaching the other shore of the river (§§13–14). In fact, the metaphor of the path itself makes this point, although the clearest explanation of this aspect of the metaphor didn’t appear until the Milinda Pañhā, a later text in the Buddhist tradition: Just as a path to a mountain doesn’t cause the mountain but can still lead to the mountain, the noble eightfold path doesn’t cause unbinding, but the act of following it can lead to a direct realization of the freedom of unbinding.

And although the fact is not obvious on the surface, the third main point about the path presented in the Buddha’s first discourse—that it’s a middle way—also implies that the path employs fabricated means that are abandoned on arriving at the goal. This implied fact becomes apparent, though, when we look at what “middle way” means.

The middle way. The Buddha’s first statement about the path is that it’s a middle way that avoids two extremes: devotion to sensual pleasure in connection with sensuality, and devotion to self-torment. This observation probably comes from his own direct experience in finding the path after having tried both extremes and finding that they were not noble (§§27–29)—i.e., they did not lead to the unfabricated. Devotion to sensuality did not allow the mind to develop the dispassion needed to find the unfabricated. In fact, it led the mind in the opposite direction, toward further passion. Devotion to self-torment weakened the body and mind to the point where they could not support the powers of concentration needed to comprehend fabrication well enough to find the escape from it.

It’s important to note, though, that the Buddha does not say that the middle way lies between these two extremes. In other words, it is not a middling path of neither pleasure nor pain. Instead, he says simply that it avoids these two extremes. It does so by utilizing both feelings of pleasure and pain as means to a higher goal, in light of the teaching on fabrication. In other words, it requires that you judge feelings of pleasure and pain as useful or not useful by measuring them both in terms of the activities that fabricate them and in terms of the states they produce. In other words, you view them as parts of a causal process, in terms of their causes and their effects. And because feelings, like other aggregates, are fabricated in the present moment from the raw material provided by past actions, a person on the path has some measure of freedom each moment to choose which potential feelings to foster.

The path takes advantage of this freedom by adopting feelings that are produced by skillful activities, and rejecting those based on unskillful activities. For instance, even though skillful activities ultimately result in pleasure, the Buddha recognizes that they may also involve some pain, and so he recommends enduring that pain (§204; §§263–264; §294). Conversely, the pleasures that come from unskillful activities are to be abandoned outright.

A similar principle applies to the feelings when gauged by the results to which they lead. The path adopts feelings of pleasure and pain whose fabrication leads to the highest sukha—pleasure, happiness, ease, or bliss—of unbinding, and abandons those that get in the way. However, even though unbinding is pleasant/easeful/blissful, its pleasure does not count as a feeling (§366), which means that even the feelings utilized on the path are eventually abandoned as well. This is the way in which the path, as a middle way, uses fabrications only to transcend them at the threshold of the unfabricated.

The Buddha’s general approach to feelings on the path is not to reject pleasure that accords with the goal (§21). If you find that indulging in a certain pleasure gives rise to no unskillful states in the mind, there’s no need for you to avoid it. If, however, it does give rise to unskillful states, you have to renounce it and practice with pain. But the Buddha does not leave you to test every pleasure or pain for yourself. He gives some clear guidelines to begin with, and after having adopted them you are in a position to gauge feelings more objectively.

His guidelines are based on a distinction between feelings of-the-flesh (āmisa) and feelings not-of-the-flesh (nirāmisa). Pleasures and pains of-the-flesh are those caused by contact at the five senses.

Pains not-of-the-flesh—those, at least, that the Buddha recommends for development—are of two sorts.

The first sort relates to the desire to gain awakening, coupled by the realization that you have yet to attain your goal. The texts offer two examples of how this painful realization may be expressed:

These realizations, though painful, help to maintain your motivation to stick with the path, and so they act as a useful part of the path itself, an aspect of right effort.

The second type of pain not-of-the-flesh recommended by the Buddha relates to distressing meditation topics, such as the contemplation of the foulness of the body (§25). Even though these topics are unpleasant, they are useful tools for counteracting strong passion, aversion, and delusion, and so play an important role on the path as exercises of right mindfulness.

Pleasures not-of-the-flesh relate to the practice of four states of concentration called jhāna, or absorption. These offer pleasure—often intense—based not on the five senses but on the internal awareness of the form of the body. These states are so central to the path that they act as one of its factors: right concentration. They have strategic importance because, as the Buddha noted, if the mind has no alternative to pain aside from sensual pleasure, it will aim at the pleasures of sensuality as a matter of course (§22). This holds true even when it’s fully aware of the long-term drawbacks of those pleasures (§295).

The pleasures of jhāna are superior to those of sensuality, both inherently and in light of their fabrication: what is needed to produce them, and the states of mind to which they lead.

Inherently, the pleasures of jhāna provide more nourishing food for the mind, as these pleasures can suffuse the entire body and be maintained for a long time. MN 54 (§150) compares the food of sensuality to a chain of bones, thoroughly scraped, that a dog would gnaw on. In contrast, AN 7:63 (§219) compares the food of jhāna to provisions for soldiers in a fortress, ranging from water, rice, and barley, to ghee, fresh butter, oil, honey, molasses, and salt. In other words, the pleasures of jhāna, when compared to those of sensuality, are more flavorful and nourishing.

In terms of fabrication: The actions that produce jhāna are blameless (§30), in that—unlike sensual pleasures—they don’t require taking anything from anyone else, and they don’t expose you to the dangers involved in seeking sensual pleasures. Also, the mind-states they produce are much more conducive to the mental clarity required by the path. As §281 notes, it’s only when the mind is concentrated that you can fully comprehend the origination and disappearance of the aggregates, and so develop dispassion for them.

There are several reasons for this observation. To begin with, the jhānas create a state of stillness that enables the mind to observe fabrication more easily and precisely. The food they offer gives the mind a point of comparison, so that it is more likely to admit the drawbacks of its passion for sensuality than it would when it hungers for pleasure. And because the jhānas are consciously fabricated—and composed of aggregates themselves (§312)—they give the mind hands-on experience in observing fabrication directly in action. It’s for these reasons that MN 117 (§48) lists right concentration as the heart of the path, and the other factors as its supports.

In fact, §24 describes the practice of right concentration as a skillful “devotion to pleasure,” in direct contrast to the unskillful devotion to pleasure that the path avoids, making the point that the middle way is not characterized by a neutral feeling tone. Instead, it uses skillful pleasures not-of-the-flesh as food for the mind, to replace the mind’s dependence on unskillful pleasures of-the-flesh.

With regard to the role of feelings of-the-flesh on the path, §24 lists four unskillful pleasures that monks are to avoid across the board: the pleasures that come from killing, stealing, lying, and the pursuit of the five “strings of sensuality”—sights, sounds, smells, tastes, and tactile sensations that are “agreeable, pleasing, charming, endearing, enticing, linked with sensual desire” (§147). From this list, it’s easy to extrapolate to other pleasures to be avoided, in particular those coming from any of the unskillful forms of conduct listed in §130 and analyzed in §165: killing, stealing, illicit sex; lying, divisive tale-bearing, harsh speech, idle chatter; covetousness, ill will, and wrong views.

Given that other pleasures of-the-flesh can be either innocent or detrimental for different individuals, there is no standard list anywhere in the Canon of innocent pleasures. Even with regard to acts of merit, the Buddha praises the pleasure to be found in the acts themselves, but warns of the dangers posed by some of the pleasures of-the-flesh that they can lead to, such as wealth, status, and praise (§79; DN 16; Iti 22; AN 8:6). However, a short list of innocent pleasures of-the-flesh can be gleaned from scattered passages in the suttas, including: the pleasures of seclusion (§§98–99), those of the beauties of the wilderness (Thag 18), the pleasure of independence (Ud 2:9), the pleasure of associating with wise people (Dhp 207), and the pleasure of harmony in the Saṅgha (Dhp 194).

In comparison to pleasures of-the-flesh, pains of-the-flesh are treated somewhat more systematically. MN 2 (§229) notes that although one should learn to endure sharp physical pains and harsh, hurtful words, it also advises avoiding the pains that would come from carelessly exposing oneself to dangers: “a wild elephant, a wild horse, a wild bull, a wild dog, a snake, a stump, a bramble patch, a chasm, a cliff, a cesspool, an open sewer.” More pointedly, it also advises avoiding the pain that would come to a monk from going to places inappropriate for monks to go, and from associating with bad friends. This point can be extended to a general principle: All pains of-the-flesh that come from engaging in unskillful conduct should be avoided.

As for pains of-the-flesh to be pursued, SN 42:12 notes that some individuals will attain superior human states—a term that covers the jhānas, the psychic powers that can be developed based on them, and the noble attainments—by living in harsh conditions, but it doesn’t list what those conditions might be. Thag 16:7 (§234) provides a list of ascetic practices that the later literature calls dhutaṅga, which can be adopted—either long term or short term—in cases where you find that they help to curb the defilements (kilesa) of the mind. These include eating only one meal a day, living in the wilderness, living at the foot of a tree, living in a cemetery, and not lying down.

So it’s obvious that the middle way is not a middling way halfway between pleasure and pain. Instead, it uses feelings of pleasure and pain—both of-the-flesh and not-of-the-flesh, and sometimes in extreme forms—so as to understand pleasures and pains as aggregates, as processes of fabrication, bringing the mind to a point where it’s ready to abandon passion for all fabrications and to realize, beyond feeling, the unfabricated bliss of unbinding.

The only right way. The Buddha’s instructions to his last disciple, Subhadda the wanderer, focus on the point that the noble eightfold path is the only way to unbinding. This is why the Buddha, from the very beginning, prefaced each factor of path with the word sammā, or “right.” Any version of any of the factors that deviates from them or contradicts them is micchā, wrong.

The Buddha’s standard for judging right and wrong here is pragmatic. This point is illustrated in §18, where the right factors of the path are compared to the act of trying to get milk from a cow by pulling on its udder, whereas wrong versions of the factors are compared to the act of trying to get milk from the cow by twisting on its horn: Not only do you get no milk, but you also harass the cow.

In other words, right and wrong are determined by what does and doesn’t work in reaching the noble goal. But it’s not the case that each factor of the path, when right on its own, is also noble: The interaction of the factors is what makes them fully right and noble as an ensemble.

For instance, it’s possible to practice concentration and arrive at a non-dual state of the oneness of consciousness, or at a state in which everything glows with a white light (§335). However, these states are fabricated, and so do not count as the goal. To mistake them for the goal would be an instance of wrong view, in which case the concentration, even though right, would not be part of the noble path. This would be true even if you started out with a correct verbal knowledge of right view, looking for the unfabricated, but then mistook the fabricated for the unfabricated when actually encountering it in practice. The problem in this case would lie in the fact that alertness, one of the sub-factors of right mindfulness, was not acute enough to detect the changes in these bright, non-dual states that would signal the fact of their being fabricated.

This means that, although all the factors of the path have to be directed by noble right view in order to be noble as well as right, right view itself needs to be trained in practice by developing the other factors of the path in order to become noble. To state this in terms of the distinction made in DN 33, right view has to grow from a form of discernment based on listening and thinking (sutamaya-paññā, cintāmaya-paññā) into a form of discernment based on developing skillful qualities in the mind (bhāvanāmaya-paññā). Only then will it be “right” enough to bear noble fruit. We will return to this point in the next chapter, and, in fact, it will be a recurring theme in the discussions of the path-factors for the remainder of this book.

Later schools of Buddhism have criticized the Pāli Canon for its insistence on the objective distinction between right and wrong forms of the path, accusing it of being dualistic, at the same time claiming that monism—the doctrine that all is One—is a higher view. However, it’s important to make a distinction between dualism as a principle and dualities as a fact. Dualism as a principle would say that the universe comes down to two main underlying principles—a position that the Buddha never takes in the Pāli Canon. In fact, he refused to take a position on the question of whether the cosmos is basically a Oneness or a plurality (SN 12:48), on the grounds that the question did not conduce to the end of suffering and stress.

However, he did take a position, on the distinction—a duality—between skillful and unskillful conduct, describing in detail what counts as skillful and unskillful, and stating in clear terms that they had to be treated differently (§60). Skillful conduct should be developed; unskillful conduct, abandoned. This is because these two types of conduct lead to two different directions: away from suffering and stress, or toward suffering and stress. The difference between suffering and not suffering is a basic duality built into the way things are. If the Buddha had not made this distinction, he would have neglected what he saw as one of his prime duties as a teacher: providing the safety that comes with having a clear sense of what should and shouldn’t be done by a person who wants to avoid causing suffering and harm (§56). Any potential student refusing to admit this distinction, the Buddha would have regarded as unfit to teach.

He was so sure of this distinction, and of the objective rightness of the factors of the path to the end of suffering, that he stated in §323 that one of the signs that a person has reached the first stage of awakening is the realization that outside of the Buddha’s teachings there is no accurate description of the way to unbinding.

For anyone who has yet to reach that point, this is impossible to know. You have to reach the top of the mountain to see clearly which paths lead there and which paths don’t. It’s for this reason that the Buddha did not force anyone to believe in his teachings without testing them, because the path is something that can be followed only voluntarily. After all, to test the path is a demanding project, in that it requires a total retraining of one’s own thoughts and actions. The only compulsion in choosing whether to take on the path comes from the brute fact of suffering. When you’ve decided you’ve suffered enough, and you’re prepared to look for the sources of suffering inside, then you’re ready to give the path a serious try—to see if the Buddha’s middle way really does lead to the end of suffering and to the unfabricated bliss of unbinding.

Readings

The First Teaching

§ 1. “These two are extremes that are not to be indulged in by one who has gone forth. Which two? That which is devoted to sensual pleasure in connection with sensuality: base, vulgar, common, ignoble, unprofitable; and that which is devoted to self-affliction: painful, ignoble, unprofitable. Avoiding both of these extremes, the middle way realized by the Tathāgata—producing vision, producing knowledge—leads to stilling, to direct knowledge, to self-awakening, to unbinding.

“And which is the middle way realized by the Tathāgata that—producing vision, producing knowledge—leads to stilling, to direct knowledge, to self-awakening, to unbinding? Precisely this noble eightfold path: right view, right resolve, right speech, right action, right livelihood, right effort, right mindfulness, right concentration. This is the middle way realized by the Tathāgata that—producing vision, producing knowledge—leads to stilling, to direct knowledge, to self-awakening, to unbinding.” — Mv.I.6 ( = SN 56:11)

The Last Teaching

§ 2. Then Subhadda the wanderer went to the Blessed One and, on arrival, exchanged courteous greetings with him. After an exchange of friendly greetings & courtesies, he sat to one side. As he was sitting there, he said to the Blessed One, “Master Gotama, these contemplatives & brahmans, each with his group, each with his community, each the teacher of his group, an honored leader, well-regarded by people at large—i.e., Pūraṇa Kassapa, Makkhali Gosāla, Ajita Kesakambalin, Pakudha Kaccāyana, Sañjaya Belaṭṭhaputta, & the Nigaṇṭha Nāṭaputta: Do they all have direct knowledge as they themselves claim, or do they all not have direct knowledge, or do some of them have direct knowledge and some of them not?”

“Enough, Subhadda. Put this question aside: ‘Do they all have direct knowledge as they themselves claim, or do they all not have direct knowledge, or do some of them have direct knowledge and some of them not?’ I will teach you the Dhamma, Subhadda. Listen and pay close attention. I will speak.”

“As you say, lord,” Subhadda responded to the Blessed One.

The Blessed One said, “In any Dhamma & Vinaya where the noble eightfold path is not ascertained, no contemplative of the first… second… third… fourth order [stream-winner, once-returner, non-returner, or arahant] is ascertained. But in any Dhamma & Vinaya where the noble eightfold path is ascertained, contemplatives of the first… second… third… fourth order are ascertained. The noble eightfold path is ascertained in this Dhamma & Vinaya, and right here there are contemplatives of the first… second… third… fourth order. Other teachings are empty of knowledgeable contemplatives. And if the monks dwell rightly, this world will not be empty of arahants.” — DN 16

On the Word, “Path”

§ 3. “Suppose that there were a pit of glowing embers, deeper than a man’s height, full of glowing embers that were neither flaming nor smoking. A man—scorched with heat, overcome by heat, exhausted, trembling, & thirsty—would come along a path going one way only [ekāyana magga] directed to that pit of glowing embers. A man with good eyes, on seeing him, would say, ‘The way this individual has practiced, the way he conducts himself, and the path he has entered are such that he will come to that pit of glowing embers.’ Then at a later time he would see him—having fallen into the pit of glowing embers—experiencing feelings that are exclusively painful, piercing, & racking.

“In the same way, Sāriputta, there is the case where—having thus encompassed awareness with awareness—I know of a certain individual: ‘The way this individual has practiced, the way he conducts himself, and the path he has entered are such that he will—at the break-up of the body, after death—reappear in a plane of deprivation, a bad destination, a lower realm, hell.’ Then at a later time I see him—at the break-up of the body, after death—reappearing in a plane of deprivation, a bad destination, a lower realm, hell, experiencing feelings that are exclusively painful, piercing, & racking.…

“Suppose that there were a cesspool, deeper than a man’s height, full of excrement. A man—scorched with heat, overcome by heat, exhausted, trembling, & thirsty—would come along a path going one way only directed to that cesspool. A man with good eyes, on seeing him, would say, ‘The way this individual has practiced, the way he conducts himself, and the path he has entered are such that he will come to that cesspool.’ Then at a later time he would see him—having fallen into the cesspool—experiencing feelings that are painful, piercing, & racking.

“In the same way… I know of a certain individual: ‘The way this individual has practiced, the way he conducts himself, and the path he has entered are such that he will—at the break-up of the body, after death—reappear in the realm of the animal womb’… experiencing feelings that are painful, piercing, & racking.…

“Suppose that there were a tree growing on uneven ground, with scanty foliage providing spotty shade. A man—scorched with heat, overcome by heat, exhausted, trembling, & thirsty—would come along a path going one way only directed to that tree. A man with good eyes, on seeing him, would say, ‘The way this individual has practiced, the way he conducts himself, and the path he has entered are such that he will come to that tree.’ Then at a later time he would see him sitting or lying down in the shade of that tree, experiencing feelings that are for the most part painful.

“In the same way… I know of a certain individual: ‘The way this individual has practiced, the way he conducts himself, and the path he has entered are such that he will—at the break-up of the body, after death—reappear in the realm of the hungry ghosts’… experiencing feelings that are for the most part painful.…

“Suppose that there were a tree growing on even ground, with lush foliage providing dense shade. A man—scorched with heat, overcome by heat, exhausted, trembling, & thirsty—would come along a path going one way only directed to that tree. A man with good eyes, on seeing him, would say, ‘The way this individual has practiced, the way he conducts himself, and the path he has entered are such that he will come to that tree.’ Then at a later time he would see him sitting or lying down in the shade of that tree, experiencing feelings that are for the most part pleasant.

“In the same way… I know of a certain individual: ‘The way this individual has practiced, the way he conducts himself, and the path he has entered are such that he will—at the break-up of the body, after death—reappear among human beings’… experiencing feelings that are for the most part pleasant.…

“Suppose that there were a palace compound; and in it was a mansion with a gabled roof, plastered inside & out, draft-free, with close-fitting door & windows shut against the wind; and in it was a throne-like bed spread with a long-fleeced coverlet, a white wool coverlet, an embroidered coverlet, a rug of kadali-deer hide, with a canopy above, & red cushions on either side. A man—scorched with heat, overcome by heat, exhausted, trembling, & thirsty—would come along a path going one way only directed to that palace compound. A man with good eyes, on seeing him, would say, ‘The way this individual has practiced, the way he conducts himself, and the path he has entered are such that he will come to that palace compound.’ Then at a later time he would see him sitting or lying down on the throne-like bed in that mansion with a gabled roof in that palace compound, experiencing feelings that are exclusively pleasant.

“In the same way… I know of a certain individual: ‘The way this individual has practiced, the way he conducts himself, and the path he has entered are such that he will—at the break-up of the body, after death—reappear in a good destination, a heavenly world’… experiencing feelings that are exclusively pleasant.…

“Suppose that there were a lotus pond with pristine water, pleasing water, cool water, pellucid water; with restful banks, refreshing; and not far from it was a dense forest grove. A man—scorched with heat, overcome by heat, exhausted, trembling, & thirsty—would come along a path going one way only directed to that lotus pond. A man with good eyes, on seeing him, would say, ‘The way this individual has practiced, the way he conducts himself, and the path he has entered are such that he will come to that lotus pond.’ Then at a later time he would see him—having plunged into the lotus pond, having bathed & drunk & relieved all his disturbance, exhaustion, & fever, and having come back out—sitting or lying down in the forest grove, experiencing feelings that are exclusively pleasant.

“In the same way, Sāriputta, there is the case where—having thus encompassed awareness with awareness—I know of a certain individual: ‘The way this individual has practiced, the way he conducts himself, and the path he has entered are such that he will, through the ending of the effluents, enter & remain in the effluent-free awareness-release & discernment-release, having directly known & realized it for himself right in the here-&-now.’ Then at a later time I see him, through the ending of the effluents—having entered & remaining in the effluent-free awareness-release & discernment-release, having directly known & realized it for himself right in the here-&-now—experiencing feelings that are exclusively pleasant.” — MN 12

§ 4. “It is just as if a man, traveling along a wilderness track, were to see an ancient path, an ancient road, traveled by people of former times. He would follow it. Following it, he would see an ancient city, an ancient capital inhabited by people of former times, complete with parks, groves, & ponds, walled, delightful. He would go to address the king or the king’s minister, saying, ‘Sire, you should know that while traveling along a wilderness track I saw an ancient path… I followed it… I saw an ancient city, an ancient capital… complete with parks, groves, & ponds, walled, delightful. Sire, rebuild that city!’ The king or king’s minister would rebuild the city, so that at a later date the city would become powerful, rich, & well-populated, fully grown & prosperous.

“In the same way I saw an ancient path, an ancient road, traveled by the Rightly Self-awakened Ones of former times. And what is that ancient path…? Just this noble eightfold path: right view, right resolve, right speech, right action, right livelihood, right effort, right mindfulness, right concentration.… I followed that path. Following it, I came to direct knowledge of aging-&-death, direct knowledge of the origination of aging-&-death, direct knowledge of the cessation of aging-&-death, direct knowledge of the path leading to the cessation of aging-&-death. I followed that path. Following it, I came to direct knowledge of birth… becoming… clinging… craving… feeling… contact… the six sense media… name-&-form… consciousness, direct knowledge of the origination of consciousness, direct knowledge of the cessation of consciousness, direct knowledge of the path leading to the cessation of consciousness. I followed that path.

“Following it, I came to direct knowledge of fabrications, direct knowledge of the origination of fabrications, direct knowledge of the cessation of fabrications, direct knowledge of the path leading to the cessation of fabrications. Knowing that directly, I have revealed it to monks, nuns, male lay followers & female lay followers, so that this holy life has become powerful, rich, detailed, well-populated, wide-spread, proclaimed among devas & human beings.” — SN 12:65

§ 5. “And what is the holy life? Just this noble eightfold path.… And what are the fruits of the holy life? The fruit of stream-entry, the fruit of once-returning, the fruit of non-returning, & the fruit of arahantship.” — SN 45:39

§ 6. “And what is the goal of the holy life? Whatever is the ending of passion, the ending of aversion, the ending of delusion: That is called the goal of the holy life.” — SN 45:40

§ 7. “Monks, this holy life doesn’t have as its reward gain, offerings, & fame, doesn’t have as its reward consummation of virtue, doesn’t have as its reward consummation of concentration, doesn’t have as its reward knowledge & vision, but the unprovoked awareness-release: That is the purpose of this holy life, that is its heartwood, that its final end.” — MN 29

§ 8. As he was sitting there, Ven. Ānanda said to the Blessed One, “Just now, lord, early in the morning, I adjusted my under robe and—carrying my bowl & outer robes—went into Sāvatthī for alms. I saw the brahman Jāṇussoṇin leaving Sāvatthī in an all-white chariot drawn by mares. White were the horses yoked to it, white the ornaments, white the chariot, white the upholstery, white the reins, white the goad, white the canopy, white his turban, white his clothes, white his sandals, and with a white yak-tail fan he was fanned. Seeing him, people were saying, ‘What a sublime vehicle! What a sublime-looking vehicle!’ Is it possible to designate a sublime vehicle in this Dhamma-Vinaya?”

“It is possible, Ānanda,” said the Blessed One. “That is a synonym for this very same noble eightfold path: ‘sublime vehicle,’ ‘Dhamma-vehicle,’ ‘unexcelled victory in battle.’”

“Right view, Ānanda, when developed & pursued, has the subduing of passion as its end-point, the subduing of aversion as its end-point, the subduing of delusion as its end-point.

“Right resolve… Right speech… Right action… Right livelihood… Right effort… Right mindfulness… Right concentration, when developed & pursued, has the subduing of passion as its end-point, the subduing of aversion as its end-point, the subduing of delusion as its end-point.

“It is by this sequence of reasons that one can know how that is a synonym for this very same noble eightfold path: ‘sublime vehicle,’ ‘Dhamma-vehicle,’ ‘unexcelled victory in battle.’”

That is what the Blessed One said. Having said that, the One Well-gone, the Teacher, said further:

§ 9. “‘All phenomena [dhammas] are rooted in desire.’

“‘All phenomena come into play through attention.’” — AN 10:58

§ 11. “Among whatever dhammas there may be, fabricated or unfabricated, dispassion—the subduing of intoxication, the elimination of thirst, the uprooting of attachment, the breaking of the round, the destruction of craving, dispassion, cessation, the realization of unbinding—is considered supreme. Those who have confidence in the dhamma of dispassion have confidence in what is supreme; and for those with confidence in the supreme, supreme is the result.

“Among whatever fabricated dhammas there may be, the noble eightfold path—right view, right resolve, right speech, right action, right livelihood, right effort, right mindfulness, right concentration—is considered supreme. Those who have confidence in the dhamma of the noble path have confidence in what is supreme; and for those with confidence in the supreme, supreme is the result.” — Iti 90

§ 12. As he was sitting there, Uṇṇabha the brahman said to Ven. Ānanda: “Master Ānanda, what is the aim of this holy life lived under Gotama the contemplative?”

“Brahman, the holy life is lived under the Blessed One with the aim of abandoning desire.”

“Is there a path, is there a practice, for the abandoning of that desire?”

“Yes, there is a path, is there a practice, for the abandoning of that desire.”

“What is the path, the practice, for the abandoning of that desire?”

“Brahman, there is the case where a monk develops the base of power endowed with concentration founded on desire & the fabrications of exertion. He develops the base of power endowed with concentration founded on persistence… concentration founded on intent… concentration founded on discrimination & the fabrications of exertion. This, brahman, is the path, this is the practice for the abandoning of that desire.”

“If that’s so, Master Ānanda, then it’s an endless path, and not one with an end, for it’s impossible that one could abandon desire by means of 178

desire.”

“In that case, brahman, I will cross-question you on this matter. Answer as you see fit. What do you think? Didn’t you first have desire, thinking, ‘I’ll go to the park,’ and then when you reached the park, wasn’t that particular desire allayed?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Didn’t you first have persistence, thinking, ‘I’ll go to the park,’ and then when you reached the park, wasn’t that particular persistence allayed?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Didn’t you first have the intent, thinking, ‘I’ll go to the park,’ and then when you reached the park, wasn’t that particular intent allayed?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Didn’t you first have [an act of] discrimination, thinking, ‘I’ll go to the park,’ and then when you reached the park, wasn’t that particular act of discrimination allayed?”

“Yes, sir.”

“So it is with an arahant whose effluents are ended, who has reached fulfillment, done the task, laid down the burden, attained the true goal, totally destroyed the fetter of becoming, and who is released through right gnosis. Whatever desire he first had for the attainment of arahantship, on attaining arahantship that particular desire is allayed. Whatever persistence he first had for the attainment of arahantship, on attaining arahantship that particular persistence is allayed. Whatever intent he first had for the attainment of arahantship, on attaining arahantship that particular intent is allayed. Whatever discrimination he first had for the attainment of arahantship, on attaining arahantship that particular discrimination is allayed. So what do you think, brahman? Is this an endless path, or one with an end?”

“You’re right, Master Ānanda. This is a path with an end, and not an endless one.” — SN 51:15

§ 13. “Suppose a man were traveling along a path. He would see a great expanse of water, with the near shore dubious & risky, the far shore safe & free from risk, but with neither a ferryboat nor a bridge going from this shore to the other. The thought would occur to him, ‘Here is this great expanse of water, with the near shore dubious & risky, the far shore safe & free from risk, but with neither a ferryboat nor a bridge going from this shore to the far one. What if I were to gather grass, twigs, branches, & leaves and, having bound them together to make a raft, were to cross over to safety on the far shore in dependence on the raft, making an effort with my hands & feet?’

“Then the man, having gathered grass, twigs, branches, & leaves, having bound them together to make a raft, would cross over to safety on the far shore in dependence on the raft, making an effort with his hands & feet. Having crossed over to the far shore, he might think, ‘How useful this raft has been to me! For it was in dependence on this raft that, making an effort with my hands & feet, I have crossed over to safety on the far shore. Why don’t I, having hoisted it on my head or carrying it on my back, go wherever I like?’ What do you think, monks? Would the man, in doing that, be doing what should be done with the raft?”

“No, lord.”

“And what should the man do in order to be doing what should be done with the raft? There is the case where the man, having crossed over to the far shore, would think, ‘How useful this raft has been to me! For it was in dependence on this raft that, making an effort with my hands & feet, I have crossed over to safety on the far shore. Why don’t I, having dragged it on dry land or sunk it in the water, go wherever I like?’ In doing this, he would be doing what should be done with the raft. In the same way, monks, I have taught the Dhamma compared to a raft, for the purpose of crossing over, not for the purpose of holding onto. Understanding the Dhamma as taught compared to a raft, you should let go even of Dhammas, to say nothing of non-Dhammas.” — MN 22

§ 14. “The great expanse of water stands for the fourfold flood: the flood of sensuality, the flood of becoming, the flood of views, & the flood of ignorance. The near shore, dubious & risky, stands for self-identity. The far shore, safe and free from risk, stands for unbinding. The raft stands for just this noble eightfold path: right view, right resolve, right speech, right action, right livelihood, right effort, right mindfulness, right concentration. Making an effort with hands & feet stands for the arousing of persistence.” — SN 35:197

§ 15. Ven. Sāriputta: “When asked if purity in terms of virtue… mind… view… the overcoming of perplexity… knowledge & vision of what is & is not the path… knowledge & vision of the way… knowledge & vision is total unbinding through lack of clinging, you say, ‘No, my friend.’ But when asked if total unbinding through lack of clinging is something apart from these dhammas, you say, ‘No, my friend.’ Now how, my friend, is the meaning of these statements to be understood?”

Ven. Puṇṇa Mantāṇiputta: “If the Blessed One had described purity in terms of virtue as total unbinding through lack of clinging, my friend, then he would have defined something still accompanied by clinging as total unbinding through lack of clinging. If he had described purity in terms of mind… view… the overcoming of perplexity… knowledge & vision of what is & is not the path… knowledge & vision of the way… knowledge & vision as total unbinding through lack of clinging, then he would have defined something still accompanied by clinging as total unbinding through lack of clinging. But if total unbinding through lack of clinging were apart from these dhammas, then a run-of-the-mill person would be totally unbound, inasmuch as a run-of-the-mill person is apart from these dhammas.

“So, my friend, I will give you an analogy, for there are cases where it’s through analogies that observant people can understand the meaning of what is being said. Suppose that while King Pasenadi Kosala was staying at Sāvatthī, some urgent business were to arise at Sāketa; and that between Sāvatthī and Sāketa seven relay chariots were made ready for him. Coming out the door of the inner palace in Sāvatthī, he would get in the first relay chariot. By means of the first relay chariot he would reach the second relay chariot. Getting out of the first relay chariot he would get in the second relay chariot. By means of the second relay chariot he would reach the third… by means of the third he would reach the fourth… by means of the fourth, the fifth… by means of the fifth, the sixth… by means of the sixth he would reach the seventh relay chariot. Getting out of the sixth relay chariot he would get in the seventh relay chariot. By means of the seventh relay chariot he would finally arrive at the door of the inner palace at Sāketa. As he arrived there, his friends & companions, relatives & kin would ask him, ‘Great king, did you come from Sāvatthī to the door of the inner palace in Sāketa by means of this chariot?’ Answering in what way, my friend, would King Pasenadi Kosala answer them correctly?”

Ven. Sāriputta: “Answering in this way, my friend, he would answer them correctly: ‘Just now, as I was staying at Sāvatthī, some urgent business arose at Sāketa; and between Sāvatthī and Sāketa seven relay chariots were made ready for me. Coming out the door of the inner palace in Sāvatthī, I got in the first relay chariot. By means of the first relay chariot I reached the second relay chariot. Getting out of the first relay chariot I got in the second relay chariot. By means of the second relay chariot I reached the third… by means of the third I reached the fourth… by means of the fourth, the fifth… by means of the fifth, the sixth… by means of the sixth I reached the seventh relay chariot. Getting out of the sixth relay chariot I got in the seventh relay chariot. By means of the seventh relay chariot I finally arrived at the door of the inner palace at Sāketa.’ Answering in this way, he would answer them correctly.”

Ven. Puṇṇa Mantāṇiputta: “In the same way, my friend, purity in terms of virtue is simply for the sake of purity in terms of mind. Purity in terms of mind is simply for the sake of purity in terms of view. Purity in terms of view is simply for the sake of purity in terms of the overcoming of perplexity. Purity in terms of the overcoming of perplexity is simply for the sake of purity in terms of knowledge & vision of what is & is not the path. Purity in terms of knowledge & vision of what is & is not the path is simply for the sake of purity in terms of knowledge & vision of the way. Purity in terms of knowledge & vision of the way is simply for the sake of purity in terms of knowledge & vision. Purity in terms of knowledge & vision is simply for the sake of total unbinding through lack of clinging. And it’s for the sake of total unbinding through lack of clinging that the holy life is lived under the Blessed One.” — MN 24

On the Word, “Noble”

§ 17. “Monks, there are these two searches: ignoble search & noble search. And which is the ignoble search? There is the case where a person, being subject himself to birth, seeks [happiness in] what is likewise subject to birth. Being subject himself to aging… illness… death… sorrow… defilement, he seeks [happiness in] what is likewise subject to illness… death… sorrow… defilement.

“And what may be said to be subject to birth? Spouses & children are subject to birth. Men & women slaves… goats & sheep… fowl & pigs… elephants, cattle, horses, & mares… gold & silver are subject to birth. Subject to birth are these acquisitions, and one who is tied to them, infatuated with them, who has totally fallen for them, being subject to birth, seeks what is likewise subject to birth.

“And what may be said to be subject to aging… illness… death… sorrow… defilement? Spouses & children… men & women slaves… goats & sheep… fowl & pigs… elephants, cattle, horses, & mares… gold & silver are subject to aging… illness… death… sorrow… defilement. Subject to aging… illness… death… sorrow… defilement are these acquisitions, and one who is tied to them, infatuated with them, who has totally fallen for them, being subject to birth, seeks what is likewise subject to aging… illness… death… sorrow… defilement. This is ignoble search.

“And which is the noble search? There is the case where a person, himself being subject to birth, seeing the drawbacks of birth, seeks the unborn, unexcelled security from the yoke: unbinding. Himself being subject to aging… illness… death… sorrow… defilement, seeing the drawbacks of aging… illness… death… sorrow… defilement, seeks the aging-less, illness-less, deathless, sorrow-less, undefiled, unexcelled security from the yoke: unbinding. This is the noble search.” — MN 26

On the Word, “Right”

§ 18. “For any contemplatives or brahmans endowed with wrong view, wrong resolve, wrong speech, wrong action, wrong livelihood, wrong effort, wrong mindfulness, & wrong concentration: If they follow the holy life even when having made a wish [for results], they are incapable of obtaining results. If they follow the holy life even when having made no wish, they are incapable of obtaining results. If they follow the holy life even when both having made a wish and having made no wish, they are incapable of obtaining results. If they follow the holy life even when neither having made a wish nor having made no wish, they are incapable of obtaining results. Why is that? Because it is an inappropriate way of obtaining results.

“Suppose a man in need of oil, looking for oil, wandering in search of oil, would pile gravel in a tub and press it, sprinkling it again & again with water. If he were to pile gravel in a tub and press it, sprinkling it again & again with water even when having made a wish [for results]… having made no wish… both having made a wish and having made no wish… neither having made a wish nor having made no wish, he would be incapable of obtaining results. Why is that? Because it is an inappropriate way of obtaining results.…

“Suppose a man in need of milk, looking for milk, wandering in search of milk, would twist the horn of a newly-calved cow. If he were to twist the horn of a newly-calved cow even when having made a wish [for results]… having made no wish… both having made a wish and having made no wish… neither having made a wish nor having made no wish, he would be incapable of obtaining results. Why is that? Because it is an inappropriate way of obtaining results.

“In the same way, any contemplatives or brahmans endowed with wrong view, wrong resolve, wrong speech, wrong action, wrong livelihood, wrong effort, wrong mindfulness, & wrong concentration: If they follow the holy life even when having made a wish [for results]… having made no wish… both having made a wish and having made no wish… neither having made a wish nor having made no wish, they are incapable of obtaining results. Why is that? Because it is an inappropriate way of obtaining results.…

“But as for any contemplatives or brahmans endowed with right view, right resolve, right speech, right action, right livelihood, right effort, right mindfulness, & right concentration: If they follow the holy life even when having made a wish, they are capable of obtaining results. If they follow the holy life even when having made no wish, they are capable of obtaining results. If they follow the holy life even when both having made a wish and having made no wish, they are capable of obtaining results. If they follow the holy life even when neither having made a wish nor having made no wish, they are capable of obtaining results. Why is that? Because it is an appropriate way of obtaining results.

“Suppose a man in need of oil, looking for oil, wandering in search of oil, would pile sesame seeds in a tub and press them, sprinkling them again & again with water. If he were to pile sesame seeds in a tub and press them, sprinkling them again & again with water, even when having made a wish [for results]… having made no wish… both having made a wish and having made no wish… neither having made a wish nor having made no wish, he would be capable of obtaining results. Why is that? Because it is an appropriate way of obtaining results.…

“Suppose a man in need of milk, looking for milk, wandering in search of milk, would pull the teat of a newly-calved cow. If he were to pull the teat of a newly-calved cow even when having made a wish [for results]… having made no wish… both having made a wish and having made no wish… neither having made a wish nor having made no wish, he would be capable of obtaining results. Why is that? Because it is an appropriate way of obtaining results.

“In the same way, any contemplatives or brahmans endowed with right view, right resolve, right speech, right action, right livelihood, right effort, right mindfulness, & right concentration: If they follow the holy life even when having made a wish [for results]… having made no wish… both having made a wish and having made no wish… neither having made a wish nor having made no wish, they are capable of obtaining results. Why is that? Because it is an appropriate way of obtaining results.” — MN 126 [See also §§202–203.]

§ 19. Gaṇaka Moggallāna the brahman said to the Blessed One, “When Master Gotama’s disciples are thus exhorted & instructed by him, do they all attain unbinding, the absolute conclusion, or do some of them not?”

“Brahman, when my disciples are thus exhorted & instructed by me, some attain unbinding, the absolute conclusion, and some don’t.”

“What is the reason, what is the cause—when unbinding is there, and the path leading to unbinding is there, and Master Gotama is there as the guide—that when Master Gotama’s disciples are thus exhorted & instructed by him, some attain unbinding, the absolute conclusion, and some don’t?”

“In that case, brahman, I will cross-question you on this matter. Answer as you see fit. What do you think? Are you skilled in the road leading to Rājagaha?”

“Yes, sir, I am skilled in the road leading to Rājagaha.”

“Now what do you think? There’s the case where a man would come, wanting to go to Rājagaha. Having gone to you, he would say, ‘I want to go to Rājagaha. Tell me the way to Rājagaha.’ You would tell him, ‘Well, my good man, this road goes to Rājagaha. Go along it for a while. Having gone along for a while, you will see a village named such-&-such. Go along for a while. Having gone along for a while, you will see a town named such-&-such. Go along for a while. Having gone along for a while, you will see Rājagaha with its lovely parks, lovely forests, lovely meadows, lovely ponds.’ Having been thus exhorted & instructed by you, he would take a wrong road and arrive out west.

“Then a second man would come, wanting to go to Rājagaha. Having gone to you, he would say, ‘I want to go to Rājagaha. Tell me the way to Rājagaha.’ You would tell him, ‘Well, my good man, this road goes to Rājagaha. Go along it for a while. Having gone along for a while, you will see a village named such-&-such. Go along for a while. Having gone along for a while, you will see a town named such-&-such. Go along for a while. Having gone along for a while, you will see Rājagaha with its lovely parks, lovely forests, lovely meadows, lovely ponds. Having been thus exhorted & instructed by you, he would arrive safely at Rājagaha. Now what is the reason, what is the cause—when Rājagaha is there, and the road leading to Rājagaha is there, and you are there as the guide—that when they are thus exhorted & instructed by you, the first man takes the wrong road and arrives out west, while the second man arrives safely at Rājagaha?”

“What can I do about that, Master Gotama? I’m the one who shows the way.”

“In the same way, brahman—when unbinding is there, and the path leading to unbinding is there, and I am there as the guide—when my disciples are thus exhorted & instructed by me, some attain unbinding, the absolute conclusion, and some don’t. What can I do about that, brahman? The Tathāgata is the one who shows the way.” — MN 107

§ 20. Ven. Ānanda: “Suppose that there were a royal frontier city with strong ramparts, strong walls & arches, and a single gate. In it would be a wise, competent, & intelligent gatekeeper to keep out those he didn’t know and to let in those he did. Walking along the path encircling the city, he wouldn’t see a crack or an opening in the walls big enough for even a cat to slip through. Although he wouldn’t know that ‘So-&-so many creatures enter or leave the city,’ he would know this: ‘Whatever large creatures enter or leave the city all enter or leave it through this gate.’

“In the same way, the Tathāgata isn’t concerned with whether all the cosmos or half of it or a third of it led (to release) by means of (his Dhamma). But he does know this: ‘All those who have been led, are being led, or will be led (to release) from the cosmos have done so, are doing so, or will do so after having abandoned the five hindrances—those defilements of awareness that weaken discernment—having well-established their minds in the four establishings of mindfulness, and having developed, as they have come to be, the seven factors for awakening.” — AN 10:95

On the Middle Way

§ 21. “And how is striving fruitful, how is exertion fruitful? There is the case where a monk, when not loaded down, doesn’t load himself down with pain, nor does he reject pleasure that accords with the Dhamma, although he is not infatuated with that pleasure.…

“And further, the monk notices this: ‘When I live according to my pleasure, unskillful dhammas increase in me & skillful dhammas decline. When I exert myself with stress & pain, though, unskillful dhammas decline in me & skillful dhammas increase. Why don’t I exert myself with stress & pain?’ So he exerts himself with stress & pain, and while he is exerting himself with stress & pain, unskillful dhammas decline in him, & skillful dhammas increase. Then at a later time he would no longer exert himself with stress & pain. Why is that? Because he has attained the goal for which he was exerting himself with stress & pain. That is why, at a later time, he would no longer exert himself with stress & pain.

“Suppose a fletcher were to heat & warm an arrow shaft between two flames, making it straight & pliable. Then at a later time he would no longer heat & warm the shaft between two flames, making it straight & pliable. Why is that? Because he has attained the goal for which he was heating & warming the shaft. That is why at a later time he would no longer heat & warm the shaft between two flames, making it straight & pliable.

“In the same way, the monk notices this: ‘When I live according to my pleasure, unskillful dhammas increase in me & skillful dhammas decline. When I exert myself with stress & pain, though, unskillful dhammas decline in me & skillful dhammas increase. Why don’t I exert myself with stress & pain?’ So he exerts himself with stress & pain, and while he is exerting himself with stress & pain, unskillful dhammas decline in him, & skillful dhammas increase. Then at a later time he would no longer exert himself with stress & pain. Why is that? Because he has attained the goal for which he was exerting himself with stress & pain. That is why, at a later time, he would no longer exert himself with stress & pain.

“This is how striving is fruitful, how exertion is fruitful.” — MN 101

§ 22. “When touched with a feeling of pain, the uninstructed run-of-the-mill person sorrows, grieves, & laments, beats his breast, becomes distraught. So he feels two pains, physical & mental. Just as if they were to shoot a man with an arrow and, right afterward, were to shoot him with another one, so that he would feel the pains of two arrows, in the same way, when touched with a feeling of pain, the uninstructed run-of-the-mill person sorrows, grieves, & laments, beats his breast, becomes distraught. So he feels two pains, physical & mental.

“As he is touched by that painful feeling, he is resistant. Any resistance-obsession with regard to that painful feeling obsesses him. Touched by that painful feeling, he delights in sensuality. Why is that? Because the uninstructed run-of-the-mill person does not discern any escape from painful feeling aside from sensuality. As he is delighting in sensuality, any passion-obsession with regard to that feeling of pleasure obsesses him. He does not discern, as it has come to be, the origination, passing away, allure, drawback, or escape from that feeling. As he does not discern the origination, passing away, allure, drawback, or escape from that feeling, then any ignorance-obsession with regard to that feeling of neither-pleasure-nor-pain obsesses him.

“Sensing a feeling of pleasure, he senses it as though joined with it. Sensing a feeling of pain, he senses it as though joined with it. Sensing a feeling of neither-pleasure-nor-pain, he senses it as though joined with it. This is called an uninstructed run-of-the-mill person joined with birth, aging, & death; with sorrows, lamentations, pains, distresses, & despairs. He is joined, I tell you, with suffering & stress.

“Now, the well-instructed disciple of the noble ones, when touched with a feeling of pain, does not sorrow, grieve, or lament, does not beat his breast or become distraught. So he feels one pain: physical, but not mental. Just as if they were to shoot a man with an arrow and, right afterward, did not shoot him with another one, so that he would feel the pain of only one arrow, in the same way, when touched with a feeling of pain, the well-instructed disciple of the noble ones does not sorrow, grieve, or lament, does not beat his breast or become distraught. He feels one pain: physical, but not mental.

“As he is touched by that painful feeling, he is not resistant. No resistance-obsession with regard to that painful feeling obsesses him. Touched by that painful feeling, he does not delight in sensuality. Why is that? Because the well-instructed disciple of the noble ones discerns an escape from painful feeling aside from sensuality. As he is not delighting in sensuality, no passion-obsession with regard to that feeling of pleasure obsesses him. He discerns, as it has come to be, the origination, passing away, allure, drawback, and escape from that feeling. As he discerns the origination, passing away, allure, drawback, and escape from that feeling, no ignorance-obsession with regard to that feeling of neither-pleasure-nor-pain obsesses him.

“Sensing a feeling of pleasure, he senses it disjoined from it. Sensing a feeling of pain, he senses it disjoined from it. Sensing a feeling of neither-pleasure-nor-pain, he senses it disjoined from it. This is called a well-instructed disciple of the noble ones disjoined from birth, aging, & death; from sorrows, lamentations, pains, distresses, & despairs. He is disjoined, I tell you, from suffering & stress.

“This is the difference, this the distinction, this the distinguishing factor between the well-instructed disciple of the noble ones and the uninstructed run-of-the-mill person.” — SN 36:6

§ 23. Sister Dhammadinnā: “Passion-obsession is to be abandoned with regard to pleasant feeling. Resistance-obsession is to be abandoned with regard to painful feeling. Ignorance-obsession is to be abandoned with regard to neither-pleasant-nor-painful feeling.”

Visākha: “Is passion-obsession to be abandoned with regard to all pleasant feeling? Is resistance-obsession to be abandoned with regard to all painful feeling? Is ignorance-obsession to be abandoned with regard to all neither-pleasant-nor-painful feeling?”

Sister Dhammadinnā: “No.… There is the case where a monk—quite secluded from sensuality, secluded from unskillful dhammas—enters & remains in the first jhāna: rapture & pleasure born of seclusion, accompanied by directed thought & evaluation. With that he abandons passion. No passion-obsession gets obsessed there. There is the case where a monk considers, ‘O when will I enter & remain in the dimension that those who are noble now enter & remain in?’ And as he thus nurses this yearning for the unexcelled liberations, there arises within him sorrow based on that yearning. With that he abandons resistance. No resistance-obsession gets obsessed there. There is the case where a monk, with the abandoning of pleasure & pain—as with the earlier disappearance of elation & distress—enters & remains in the fourth jhāna: purity of equanimity & mindfulness, neither pleasure nor pain. With that he abandons ignorance. No ignorance-obsession gets obsessed there.” — MN 44

§ 24. “There are four devotions to pleasure, Cunda, that are base, vulgar, common, ignoble, unprofitable, that do not lead to disenchantment, dispassion, cessation, calming, direct knowledge, self-awakening, or unbinding. Which four?

“There is the case where a certain fool finds pleasure & rapture for himself in killing living beings… there is the case where a certain person finds pleasure & rapture for himself in taking what is not given… there is the case where a certain person finds pleasure & rapture for himself in telling lies… there is the case where a certain person goes about endowed & provided with the five strings of sensuality…

“These are the four devotions to pleasure, Cunda, that are base, vulgar, common, ignoble, unprofitable, that do not lead to disenchantment, dispassion, cessation, calming, direct knowledge, self-awakening, or unbinding.

“Now, it’s possible that wanderers of other sects might say, ‘The Sakyan-son contemplatives live devoted to these four devotions to pleasure.’ They are to be told, ‘Not so!’ They would not be speaking rightly of you. They would be slandering you with what is unfactual & untrue.

“There are four devotions to pleasure, Cunda, that lead exclusively to disenchantment, dispassion, cessation, calming, direct knowledge, self-awakening, & unbinding. Which four?

“There is the case where a monk, quite secluded from sensuality, secluded from unskillful dhammas, enters & remains in the first jhāna: rapture & pleasure born of seclusion, accompanied by directed thought & evaluation.…

“Further, Cunda, with the stilling of directed thoughts & evaluations, the monk enters & remains in the second jhāna: rapture & pleasure born of concentration, unification of awareness free from directed thought & evaluation—internal assurance.…

“Further, Cunda, with the fading of rapture, the monk remains equanimous, mindful, & alert, and senses pleasure with the body. He enters & remains in the third jhāna, of which the noble ones declare, ‘Equanimous & mindful, he has a pleasant abiding.’ …

“Further, Cunda, with the abandoning of pleasure & pain—as with the earlier disappearance of elation & distress—the monk enters & remains in the fourth jhāna: purity of equanimity & mindfulness, neither pleasure nor pain.…

“These are the four devotions to pleasure that lead exclusively to disenchantment, dispassion, cessation, calming, direct knowledge, self-awakening, & unbinding.

“Now, it’s possible, Cunda, that wanderers of other sects might say, ‘The Sakyan-son contemplatives live devoted to these four devotions to pleasure.’ They are to be told, ‘That is so!’ They would be speaking rightly of you. They would not be slandering you with what is unfactual & untrue.

“It’s possible that wanderers of other sects might say, ‘Living devoted to these four devotions to pleasure, friends, what fruits, what rewards can be expected?’

“The wanderers of other sects saying that are to be told, ‘Living devoted to these four devotions to pleasure, friends, four fruits, four rewards can be expected. Which four?

“‘Friends, there is the case where a monk, with the wasting away of (the first) three fetters, is a stream-enterer, certain, never again destined for the lower realms, headed for self-awakening. This is the first fruit, the first reward.

“‘Further, friends, the monk—with the wasting away of (the first) three fetters, and with the attenuation of passion, aversion, & delusion—is a once-returner; who, on returning only once more to this world, will make an ending to stress. This is the second fruit, the second reward.

“‘Further, the monk—with the wasting away of the five lower fetters—is due to arise spontaneously (in the Pure Abodes), there to totally unbind, destined never again to return from that world. This is the third fruit, the third reward.

“‘Further, the monk—with the ending of effluents—enters & remains in the effluent-free awareness-release & discernment-release, having directly known & realized it for himself right in the here-&-now.

“‘Living devoted to these four devotions to pleasure, friends, these four fruits, these four rewards can be expected.’” — DN 29

§ 25. “And which is painful practice with quick intuition? There is the case where a monk remains focused on unattractiveness with regard to the body, percipient of loathsomeness in food, percipient of distaste for every world, (and) focused on inconstancy with regard to all fabrications. The perception of death is well established within him. He dwells in dependence on these five strengths of one in training—strength of conviction, strength of a sense of shame, strength of a sense of compunction, strength of persistence, & strength of discernment—and these five faculties of his—the faculty of conviction, the faculty of persistence, the faculty of mindfulness, the faculty of concentration, the faculty of discernment—appear intensely. Because of their intensity, he attains quickly the immediacy that leads to the ending of the effluents. This is called painful practice with quick intuition.…

“And which is pleasant practice with quick intuition? There is the case where a monk—quite secluded from sensuality, secluded from unskillful dhammas—enters & remains in the first jhāna… the second jhāna… the third jhāna… the fourth jhāna: purity of equanimity & mindfulness, neither pleasure nor pain. He dwells in dependence on these five strengths of one in training—strength of conviction, strength of a sense of shame, strength of a sense of compunction, strength of persistence, & strength of discernment—and these five faculties of his—the faculty of conviction, the faculty of persistence, the faculty of mindfulness, the faculty of concentration, the faculty of discernment—appear intensely. Because of their intensity, he attains quickly the immediacy that leads to the ending of the effluents. This is called pleasant practice with quick intuition.” — AN 4:163