150426EISunEveC.doc Aaron on the combined path of Vipassana and Pure Awareness

April 26, 2015 Sunday Evening, Emerald Isle Retreat

Aaron: Good evening. My blessings and love to you all. I am Aaron. So we end the first day of retreat, and I think most of you have begun to settle into a quiet space. I'm going to talk tonight, but words are secondary. I don't want you to be up in your heads, in your intellect, but into your open-hearted experience.

As you meditate, I find it interesting that we start with observation of the mundane arising and passing away around us, because that is your direct experience.(Aaron looks up and gazes out the doorway for over a minute)--Forgive me, I am taken with the sight of the ocean out there, through the door. The energy from it is so powerful, so beautiful. I hope you are deeply enjoying it. What a gift.

So the traditional Theravada path is to use the mundane, the kuttara citta, as a path to realization, toward a direct experience of the Unconditioned by seeing the impermanent and non-self nature of the conditioned, then going beyond. There are other disciplines that teach more in terms of non-duality of mundane and supramundane. My experience is that vipassana can follow this path of non-duality of mundane and supramundane, and that this combination becomes a very helpful practice. What you seek is not only at the end of a long path of unfolding of experience but is right here in this moment.

Realization is an interesting word. What do we realize? We wake up to our true nature and to the true nature of everything; the non-dual expression of everything, pouring out of the Unconditioned and expressing itself as the conditioned in this heavier density realm.

When you look at the sunlight-- and I hope tomorrow the sun will be shining so you can do what I'm suggesting–look at a patch of bright sun hitting the sand or sparkling on the waves. When you see that glitter, diamonds glittering on the water, is that the sun? Tell me, is that the sun? Is it a direct expression of the sun? When you see that sparkle on the water, have you any doubt but that the sun is up there? But it's not the sun. It is what we would call a direct expression. It exists because the sun exists. At night you don't see that sparkle on the water unless the moon is out and you see the sparkle from the moon. Then you have a different direct expression, of the moon.

But in that moment of seeing the sun sparkle on the water, you're right there with the sun. If your back is turned to the sun and you're meditating, eyes closed, it comes out from behind a cloud and suddenly you feel its heat on your back, is that the sun? You say, "Oh, I feel the sun on my back." But if you really felt the sun on your back, you'd be burned to a crisp! What you feel there is heat radiating from the sun and touching your body. It's a direct expression of the sun. But you have no doubt in that moment but that the sun exists. You begin to know the nature of the sun. Sparkling on the water, the sun is light. Hitting your back, the sun is heat, fire. How many more expressions of the sun can you think of? Light, heat-- anything else?

Q: Gravity.

Aaron: It touches on gravity, yes. Does it have a size, a specific size? Do we say just that small core at the center is the sun? Or is everything light you see the sun? So we could say it's infinite. Because even at nighttime you see the sun reflected on your moon. When you look at the moon, you see the sun. Many different expressions of the sun, that's all I'm suggesting. We don't need all the details.

When we aspire to a direct experience of the Unconditioned, one person might hear nada. That's a direct expression of the Unconditioned. One might see radiance, luminosity. That's a direct expression of the Unconditioned. One might feel spaciousness. One might experience strong energy. One might feel joy or love. These are all direct expressions of the Unconditioned, by which I mean they need nothing but the Unconditioned itself in order to express, whereas with conditioned expressions there's always a chain of conditioning.

A man receives a seed and plants it. It grows through 50 years into an enormous tree. A big storm comes and knocks huge branches off the tree. One branch falls onto the roof of the house. A weak beam in the roof or ceiling collapses, the ceiling falls down, and a man, lying in bed, grandson of the original tree-planter, has a beam fall across his leg and break the leg. He is taken to the hospital, and a few days later he's walking around on crutches looking for someone to blame. Does he blame the storm? Does he blame the tree? Does he blame the carpenter who did not put in a double-heavy beam? Does he blame his grandfather who planted the tree, or his great-grandfather who gave his grandfather the seed? Why does he need to blame anyone? Can each moment be seen as it is: the direct result of conditions, some wholesome, some unwholesome conditions.

Most things arise out of a mix of wholesome and unwholesome conditions. The way you experience them is part of that mix. You've probably all heard an old teaching story. The farmer's mare escaped the barn. All the neighbors said, "What bad luck." Then the mare came back with a stallion. They mated; there was a foal. Everybody said, "What good luck." The colt grew, and the farmer's son began to train the colt. He was a beautiful colt, "What good luck." But then the colt kicked the farmer's son and broke his leg. "What bad luck." Then the authorities came house to house drafting people for the army, but because this young man had a broken leg, he was not taken. "What good luck."

Now, each turn of this is the outflow of many, many conditions, and you can never point to one condition and say, "This is it." We look at this chair. It's a conditioned object. It's made of wood. Somebody presumably would have gone out and cut down some trees, taken the lumber to a mill, where it was planed into boards and shaped appropriately. A carpenter then took the wood and built a chair. Is the chair the wood? Is it the trees, or the forest from which they came? Is it the man who planted the forest? Is it the carpenter? It's the outflow of all these conditions. Furthermore, what is the chair? Is the seat here the chair? If it had no seat, would it still be a chair? If it had no legs, would it be a chair? If it had no back, would it be a chair? A stool, maybe, but not a chair. Chair is a concept.

So much of what you are looking at in the conditioned realm are concepts. So the tree has fallen on the house, broken the grandson's leg. He's angry. "Why did this happen to me?" He wants somebody to blame. Who knows who he'll blame, but he'll carry that concept around. "My leg is broken. It's his fault. He didn't build the rafters strong enough. It's his fault; he planted the tree too close to the house. It's the weatherman's fault for not letting us know ahead of time that such a bad storm was coming, so I could have sought shelter."

Why do you need to find someone to blame? What does blaming do for you? Sometimes being with the pain of a broken leg, or far worse, being with the pain of an abusive childhood or of abandonment, of severe illness, you feel overwhelmed by these. You don't know how to take control of your life again, and one common human experience is to look for something to blame.

In the vipassana retreat, we have an opportunity to watch how all of this flow of story arises, and then the wonderful opportunity to see each piece of it, like the leg and the seat and the back of the chair, as simply pieces of a conditioned experience. Maybe there's no need to blame. Maybe one can simply be with that sometimes very severe anguish. How can we open our hearts to the pain of human experience, the suffering of human experience?

So in the traditional path, coming to the Unconditioned is a matter of watching how conditioned objects arise, this one arising out of these conditions and then giving rise to that one, and giving rise to that one. Seeing the movement into telling stories about it. Trying to be the ego wresting control again. To let go, really to surrender into that non-self, that emptiness, which is the heart of love that can hold all of these conditions in spaciousness, and attend to what can be attended to.

You care for the leg and it heals. You put the beam back up in the house. You fix the roof. You trim the tree appropriately so no more branches will fly off on top of the roof. Can you feel the difference between attending in this way with an open heart, or attending from a place of fear, the ego wanting to be safe, wanting to be in control? And yet it's very natural that there is this ego that wants to be safe and in control.

So the next step for many people is to cease judging themselves that there is this ego, to make peace with the ego self without being a servant to it. Just to hold the heart open and watch ego arise also as one of the conditions. In the traditional path, we finally break through, watching objects arise, and then, especially and eventually, watching everything fall away. Dissolution; everything dissolving. Everything that you had thought of as self is dissolving until there is a profound experience of the Unconditioned.

Once there is that profound realization, it doesn't mean it's stable yet. But there's a touch of it. An illustration that's often given is that if you have a house that's lain dark for a hundred years, you don't know the rooms or the furniture of the house. You turn on a light for just a moment, but you see the layout of the house and where the furniture is. And then the light goes off. But now you know something different. You know how the rooms are laid out. You know where the furnishings are. You don't stumble so much in the dark.

The next time a light goes on you have a chance for a deeper look. And then the light goes off again. But as you practice, what happens is that there's at least a dim light that continues to burn, that helps to hold you to the deeper truth, this essence of what you are; and not to be so caught up in the various conditioned elements. You take care of them appropriately but are not caught in self-identity with them. Gradually the focus of attention shifts from the conditioned aspects, the aggregates of form, feeling, thought, perceptions, consciousness, all the aggregates that we stare at–(looking at open fingers)"I am this one. No, this one. No, this one." Ahh, looking through. Seeing the deeper truth of who and what you are.

For many of you it's hard to believe in that truth because you're so focused on the distortions in the self. Yes, you want to be kind people, loving people, generous people, patient people, caring. And yes, sometimes stinginess, anger, fear, greed, these arise. They are simply the product of conditions.

So once you've had that glimpse of the Unconditioned, that glimpse of the deeper truth of your being, you then begin to watch: which are the conditioned objects that pull me away most? For each of you it's different. For some of you it may be stories of unworthiness. For others of you, it may be a feeling, "I should be more generous." Or "I should be more patient." "Should" is different than "aspire to." We may aspire to this, but should is judgmental. Can you feel the difference? I aspire to be loving, generous, kind, patient. But I will not hate myself when impatience or anger arises. Rather, I will take care of it. Observe that it arose from conditions, not get caught in the stories or self-identity, but deeply open my heart to this human in whom this is arising. And of course it will arise.

I've been describing the more traditional Theravada path as laid out in Visuddhi Magga(Path of Purification; a commentary on the scriptures) and the scriptures. But what Barbara, John, and I have been teaching for 20 years is a subtly different path, based on the seeming simultaneity of conditioned and unconditioned. We've taught resting in pure awareness. How many of you have done that kind of practice with us?(most) If the weather permits, we'll do it tomorrow or the next day on the beach.

Ahhh, eyes open. Resting in that spaciousness. The reason I distinguish between consciousness and awareness and use these terms in particular ways is twofold. Consciousness, citta, as Barbara said, the mundane citta, kuttara citta, and the supramundane citta, lokuttara citta. Now we're not speaking Pali here, so in exchange for those two terms, I simply use consciousness as mundane citta and awareness as supramundane citta.

We start to understand the seeming simultaneity through practice. As you sit doing this pure awareness practice – it's derived from dzogchen but I'm not a Tibetan teacher, nor is Barbara, and we don't call it dzogchen, we just call it resting in awareness – you find the experience of resting in that spaciousness even when conditioned items arise and pull your attention away. Mind cannot be in 2 places at the same time, so it is not truly simultaneous, but so close that it seems to be simultaneous.

I like to bring people close to the water's edge, close enough so that the occasional wave will run up and lap over your feet. That certainly grabs your attention! Ahh, all that spaciousness, and suddenly, slap! You're up to your knees in cold ocean water! Startled. Present. Here is an object. Knowing it as cold, wet. Perhaps pleasant, perhaps unpleasant. Some of you ocean-lovers may say, "Ah, that was wonderful!" Others may say, "Cold! Wet!" But we begin to see how these conditioned experiences can arise into our awareness, and pull us subtly into conditioned consciousness without getting hooked into stories from that conditioned consciousness. Simply noting it and coming back into the spaciousness of awareness, but never as a way to avoid the conditioned object.

As the tide comes in and the waves are now coming up to your waist, you get up and move higher up the beach. Who moves up the beach? If a self moves up the beach, there's going to be some karma in it, even if it's based on a loving intention. If empty awareness moves up the beach, there's no karma. In another level of explanation, there's no contraction around it. When the wave hits you, you don't contract and say, "Oh, bad wave!" you just note, "wet, cold." and move the body farther up the beach. It's a movement that comes from a place of no self.

When we talk about the path of realization leading into enlightenment, we're basically talking about the quick or gradual shift into resting so deeply in that stability of awareness, of presence–bare presence.

Being present with what has arisen, free of contraction, you are out of the karmic field. Are you familiar with "access concentration." How many are familiar with the term "access concentration?" Most of you. It's part of the vipassana path, where as you watch objects arising and passing away, there's so little sense of a self, but very precise, focused consciousness present with these objects, that as things arise and pass away, there's no contraction about them. It is at that point of non-contraction that the lokuttara citta open.

Every citta takes an object. Mundane citta, such as eye consciousness, takes a mundane object--the carpet or the striped chair cushion. Supramundane citta takes a supramundane object. At that point in access concentration the citta begin to open that allow us to have direct experience of the Unconditioned. That light that went on in a house, at first just a flash, then a deeper and deeper immersion. You become more stable resting in access concentration.

I find that a parallel path – and I am not saying one path is better than the other; ideally they accompany and support  each other – is most helpful.  So sometimes in practice you experience access concentration and then at other times, when you're sitting, resting in awareness, you experience it as broad awareness. Awareness becomes so stable that the lokuttara citta are open. Gradually it becomes stable.

The practice is taught in dzogchen with three parts. View. Just "seeing the view". Seeing this awareness. Seeing through the eyes of awareness. Part 2, meditation that stabilizes awareness. And then action. From that stable position, taking it out into the world so that you can be responsive rather than reactive to what has arisen.

I find that practice in the meditation hall with vipassana, watching objects arise and passing away, moving into access concentration, stabilizing access concentration; and then if you go outside and sit, eyes open, resting in awareness, each supports the other. It helps to keep the light on in the dark house for a longer time, so to speak. It helps to stabilize the experiences and let mind know this uncontracted spaciousness of being, to know your true essence.

But then suddenly a big wave comes in, washes over your head. Startled, anger, pulled right out of that spaciousness. Contracted. "Why didn't somebody warn me?" If that's a habitual tendency that's deeply rooted in you, wanting to find someone to blame, the thought is going to emerge. Then, "I shouldn't be trying to find someone to blame." Ah, judging. If that's deeply rooted in you, then self-judgment is going to emerge. We just watch these arising objects. We watch from the openhearted awareness and say, "Ah, here is wanting to blame." "Ah, here is judging mind." Holding it all in spaciousness.

Again, the dzogchen view, meditation, and action. From the stable place of meditation, resting in awareness. We observe how open the heart is, how the idea of wanting to blame is released almost instantly. Wanting to judge oneself or another releases almost instantly. One simply takes the body back up on the beach, dries off with a towel, and sits back down, living from this heart of awareness. But the body is moved back up on the beach. We don't sit there waiting for the next wave to drown us or soak us.

So I like to teach these two practices together. Working with your vipassana practice, stabilizing access concentration. And please don't grasp at access concentration, just practice and you'll experience it. Stabilizing access concentration, and then taking it outdoors, eyes open, not just in the quiet of the meditation hall, but eyes open, resting in spacious awareness. Beginning to know deeply, "I am that. I am the waves. I am the sun. I am the breeze. I am the gulls flying in front of me, the sandpiper running down the beach, the children laughing and flying kites. I am all of that."

You've often heard me say, that which is aware of anger, for example, is not angry. From the place of awareness, we note that anger has arisen and we are responsible to it to make sure it does not cause harm. But there's no self-identity with it. It came out of conditions and it will go. And the best way to release it is to rest in that spacious awareness, seeing how it arose and that it's impermanent.

Sit near the water tomorrow and watch waves coming up towards your feet. Sometimes they look big enough that they're going to wash over, but they don't. They flatten out–if you're far enough up the beach they flatten out and roll back into the sea. If you get really close to the water, watch the tension. "This wave looks big!" If it's a warm day, sit in hip-deep water, so some waves just barely touch your toes and some waves will come all the way up to your shoulders. Letting the waves come in. Watch any contraction, coming from a place of self. Watch how and if you relate to that contraction with any self-judgment. Watch any idea, "I'm in danger from the waves." Move back as is appropriate to keep the body safe and comfortable. Hold spacious awareness around the whole process. Waves, washing in and washing out. Contraction, also impermanent, just like the waves. Coming up and washing down. Spaciousness, contraction. Contraction, spaciousness.

Now I want to take us another step, because most of you are here with some idea of something you would like to fix about yourselves. Maybe, "I want to be a better meditator." Or, "I want to be fully enlightened." "I want to be kinder, more patient, more generous." "I don't want to jump to such snap decisions about things." "I don't want to hold anger when it arises." Well, these are wonderful intentions, loving intentions. But so often you fixate on whatever it is you choose not to cultivate and in doing so, oddly, you cultivate it further, because there's so much tension. "Anger will not arise in me.(said with a loud voice)If it does, I will not have anger. I will not hold anger. No anger permitted here!" Is that going to do it? Is there anybody here who has not done that?

Instead,(softly) "Anger is arising. Anger has arisen. I feel overwhelmed by this mass of anger. It's here in my belly, maybe in my throat. It feels red, hot, burning, like a volcano coming up in me. It's very uncomfortable. I don't want this." Feel any strong aversion to it, and that it is very unpleasant.

Breathing in, I am aware, first of the anger. Breathing out, I make space for the anger. Breathing in, I am aware of the aversion to the anger. Breathing out, I release the aversion. I open my heart to the human who is experiencing aversion. I open my heart with loving kindness. I open my heart to all humans all over the world who in this moment are experiencing anger, which is a human mammal experience.

The question is not whether anger will arise but whether self-identity with the anger will arise. Not whether fear or greed will arise, but whether self-identity with them will arise; because with the self-identity, there's contraction. And as soon as there's contraction, there's further self-identity. But we also can't say, "Contraction has arisen in me. I will not have this contraction." That is just more contraction.

So skillful practice leads us to keep our hearts so very open, watching what has arisen in the self with kindness, with strong intention not to enact any negative movement out into the world. But like the big wave, it knocked you over, but where is the wave now? Can you find it? Where did it go? It just sinks into the sand. One huge wave, and it's gone.

Everything in the conditioned realm is impermanent, arising from conditions and passing away.

Resting in spaciousness, we find refuge from the whole conditioned realm. But we must not hide out in that refuge or we'll never wake up. So there's wisdom that sees how everything is arising from conditions, and compassion for the sentient being in whom it keeps arising. Even once one is fully enlightened, if you step on a thorn, there's going to be pain. There's probably going to be some degree of aversion to the pain. But there's no holding of that aversion in the body. If somebody comes running after you with a knife, screaming in rage at you, there's probably going to be some feeling of discomfort, even for the highly enlightened being, and the wisdom and compassion to respond skillfully. Then is you cease perpetuating the karma that held you trapped, reacting time after time after time in the old conditioned ways. Suddenly you know,  I don't have to do that anymore.

Barbara has experimented at some length sitting in that hip-deep water on beautiful days and on not so beautiful days. Feeling the waves come up lapping at her feet, pleasant, pleasant. Then the sudden big wave. Her eyes are open, seeing it coming. Seeing herself tensing. Smack, right in the face! Knocking her over. And washing into the sand. Sitting up. Watching: what holds this tension in place in my body? What holds this in place in my mind? Can I simply acknowledge, "The wave knocked me over because I'm sitting this close to the ocean, and this is the nature of the ocean. If I don't want this to happen, I will sit further from the ocean. So it's my choice. I don't have to blame anyone. I don't have to armor myself around the waves. I can sit where I like."

Can you see how this stops the karma? It doesn't stop the waves. If you're going to sit in waist-deep water near the ocean, they're still going to wash over you from time to time, but it stops the held-contraction; it stops the stories; it stops the karma. Metaphorically, if somebody comes along and pushes you and you push back from a sense of self, it keeps the karma going. You know the "pushing arms" exercise. Does everybody know that? So, something pushes you. Push back. The movement is perpetuated. Or just dancing with it, letting the energy go. Feeding the energy back, but not with an attempt to harm. Just giving that ball of energy back. Letting it flow.

The ocean is a wonderful partner for that pushing arms exercise, and you don't have to sit deep enough that it will wash over you. You can sit at a place where it will just barely touch your feet occasionally. But each time it washes up so it just touches your toes–wet, wet, and then it flows back.

We come back to the habitual tendencies that each of you hold: the judgment of others or of the self; the desire to blame; the desire to fix; the one who wants to be so good and help everybody, but really needs that, grasps at that, to be the one that takes care of everybody, because it's so painful to watch others suffer and struggle; the one who doesn't believe itself to be good enough. Notice all of these habitual tendencies. What happens if you focus on that small negative expression of your being and forget to hold the true radiance of your being, to really hold that in awareness? Can you see how it heightens the tendency?

John, can you pick out just one shell that obviously has a broken place in it? I hold up the shell. Lovely shell, yes? A clean, white, beautiful shell. What do you see? Do you see the beautiful lines, the symmetry of the shell, the gracefulness of it, or do you see the hole?

I'm going to give each of you a shell. We've done this before. Some of you were here, 5, 6 years ago when we did this exercise, giving out a shell that had some big or small imperfection and asking you to hold onto this for the week. Use it to remember; look at the shell, spend time with the shell, see how beautiful it is, and the allow yourself to see the seeming imperfection of it too. Learn to truly love that imperfection, to take care of the imperfection; but not to believe that something is wrong with the shell because it has a broken edge or chip. Not to believe that something is wrong with you because anger, confusion, fear or doubt arise. Who are you beyond these conditioned aspects of your being, when you rest deeply in the unconditioned essence of your being? What remains?

This is realization, to come to know, "I am that. I am that radiance. I am that loving heart. This is my true being. This is my true refuge. This is where I rest."

So I'm going to give each of you a shell. The body is not stable enough for me to walk around with them. Either we can simply pass them around and let you each choose a shell for yourself, or I can have you come up one at a time and I can hand one to you. Have you a preference? (Q: Come up.) Okay, then give me the plate of shells. If you would like me to choose one for you, hold out your hand. If you would like to choose one for yourself, simply take one.

(shells are handed out)

I'm trying to choose shells that have the appropriate energy for you. ...

That one's a bit too perfect (laughter)...

(shells are handed out)

I'm rejecting the ones that are too perfect. I want there to be some obvious break in it, even a very small one...

Look at this one and ask yourself, where is the imperfection? Is there? Maybe imperfection is an illusion...

Worn away by life, and yet magnificent...

So please practice with your shells. As you meditate, sometimes hold it in your hand. Look at it. Find the radiance, the perfection-- the lines, the swirls, and the cracks and broken places, pitted by life experience but no less radiant and beautiful.

Watch how mind wants to pay attention to the broken place and keep going back to it. Remind yourself, "This is whole. I am whole." Hold it over your heart. "This is me. I am whole. It is whole. I cherish this." And yet, if it's got a big hole in it, it's a bit fragile. Be gentle with it.

We'll talk more tomorrow. My blessings and love to all of you. May you all reap the rewards of this week of practice, of increasing happiness and freedom, for the highest good of all beings.

(session ends)