A Proper Attitude

The following is an excerpt from the upcoming book Shwe Lan Ga Lay. This is the introduction to a chapter called "Settling In," which describes how foreign meditators can adjust the dhammic life of living at a Burmese monastery.

"When looking for a hotel room, it is quite reasonable—smart, even—to ask about the room, the shower, the bed, etc, and one is not being rude even to ask to inspect the room before choosing to stay; indeed, one would be remiss if they did not! But monasteries are not guesthouses. They are a place for yogis to develop their nekkamma parami, or the perfection of renunciation. By definition, monasteries are places of simple living, where only the most basic necessities are met. Various Burmese proverbs attest to the value of nekkamma, which is considered the wellspring from which true contentedness may arise. One is Yaung ye tin tain, or “one is satisfied with one has.” Another goes shi ta lay ne ya aung nay. Shita lay ne wa aung sar, or “one tries to live with what one has, and to eat what is available.”

And one should not interpret nekkamma as having to “put up with” or “bear” one’s circumstances, rather, these situations where one can really practice renunciation are genuine opportunities rarely found among daily society where the craving for “more” and “better” is ever-present. Naing Naing Tun speaks to this when he tells of a simple forest monastery he stayed in for some time, during his temporary monkhood. There were no amenities, and not even electricity, but he relates that “as soon as I arrived there, I didn’t need to worry about anything. I just pulled up a mat on the floor and that was my bed.” As the days passed, he found that the monks had happily adapted to the situation and become more attuned to their environment. For example, every evening they would open the western windows and watch as all the mosquitoes flew out, then close them before lighting one of the few candles they had. Despite not having mosquito coils or insect repellent, they found this trick somehow worked to remove them. When there were no candles, or when it wasn’t safe to use them with may dry leaves around, he remembers: “We just sat under the natural light, the moonlight, and discussed Dhamma. For food, we just ate from what we got on alms rounds. And I didn’t feel any of thoughts of ‘I need this or I need that.’ I was free of wanting this or that because I accepted that here, there is nothing. I already accepted things. If you have less things, you have less worry, less anxiety. This is the benefit of having nothing! Today, whenever I rewind this experience, I can’t compare it with any other time in my life. Now, when I have one more thing, I have one more worry—and sometimes a lot more!”

Yogis who have a medical condition or an important special request may inquire whether their need can be accommodated at the monastery. An example of a “special request” is having a bad back and needing a certain amount of padding when sleeping, or feeling under the weather and needing a quiet place to rest or some medicine. But yogis should realize that most monasteries have limited capacity to meet even these kinds of legitimate needs. And mere personal preferences for this or that are worth letting go of, such as wanting almond-flavor soymilk instead of 2%, or asking the kitchen to prepare separate dishes with fewer chilies. While many Western meditation centers may try to meet such requests, they are not appropriate at Burmese monasteries. Also, one should make sure to reimburse the office or kitchen for any additional expenditure that has been undertaken for oneself personally.

It is also important to keep in mind that many monks and Sayadaws, especially in more remote or smaller monasteries, may have had little to no previous contact with foreigners. For this reason, one’s behavior will impact not only one’s own relations with the monastery, but will likely have consequences for many more yogis who may wish to practice there in the future—if your stay causes any difficulties or complexities, then they may hesitate to offer such an opportunity to the next yogi. If this proves too great a challenge, then one may consider staying in a nearby hotel and visit the monastery during the day."

The Role of Kusala

Pilgrims perform the kusala action of giving robes to monks at Shwekyin Monastery

“Kusala” is usually translated into English as “merit,” a word that can create confusion for many foreign yogis. Different renderings may be helpful in expressing the depth of this term. For instance, the Access To Insight website translates a kusala deed as being one that is “wholesome” or “skillful.”

When one understands the law of cause and effect, one sees that all wholesome acts bring a degree of calm and joy is brought to the mind. In other words, no good deed goes unrewarded, and the opportunity for skilful actions, both large and small, can be found in plentitude during the course of one’s day. For many Burmese Buddhists, the most meritorious of all deeds will involve monasteries and monks to some degree.

However, the idea of “accumulating merit” can be misunderstood by foreign yogis whose primary form of practice is mediation. The common misperception is that performing meritorious deeds has a materialistic tinge, in which the devotee tries to to amass points that will go on a score card or tally, with more points leading to better future births. The usual criticism is that it would be a better to give time towards meditation on the cushion than trying to accumulate yet more points.

But here it may valuable to try to understand the perspective of the Burmese Buddhist. Rather than as a score card trying to add more points, the continual performing of kusala actions can also be seen as a muscle being strengthened through repeated use. As with any physical skill or mental habit that one is trying to develop, establishing a routine for consistent practice makes it easier to keep on doing that particular activity—or as a neural scientist might say, by strengthening the neural pathways, the tendency towards repeating those actions becomes more automated, which may help establish the desired behavior. Thus performing kusala actions such as devotion, service and generosity both trains the mind to do these virtuous duties and make it less likely for the mind to perpetuate unskillful actions that will bring bad results. Naing Naing Tun gives the Burmese perspective for this, noting that one who gets in the habit of doing kusala deeds eventually comes to possess a “kusala mind,” which is then primed to view the world from this wholesome state. “We need to cultivate the quality of a kusala mind, which is pure and clean, and has happiness and peace,” he said. “And this is not like the kind of mundane happiness that comes in daily life. If you can keep in mind the good deed you’re doing, then the happiness will be refreshed over and over again, with the kusala mind arising again and again.”

A common saying in Burmese describes how the quickest cows go into the pen first, and the slowest and laziest last. Then when the pen is opened, the laziest go out first. This is a metaphor for how kamma works: whatever is most base in the mind tends to come out first. Therefore, doing good deeds is important to develop wholesome inclinations of the mind, so these are first “out of the pen.” Or as is expressed simply through the Burmese proverb, kaung hmu ta khu nei zin pyu, or “perform a good deed every day.”

Maha Gandayone Sayadaw U Janaka also spoke about what he characterized as an urgency to do good. He wrote that “merit cannot be obtained without really trying. You must do good work to earn it. The confidence (in the good) that in with you now must be used so that new confidence will be developed. The diligence that you are using at present will intensify the diligence you will have in the future.” Elsewhere, he said simply, “don’t wait for good luck; make good luck by doing good deeds.”

Prekhemma Sayadaw makes the practical observation that only those who have attained may find no further urgency to make kusala actions, since they may not fear rebirth in lower worlds where Vipassana practice is no longer possible. “But for the meditator who hasn’t become a sotapanna,” he says, “the cycle of rebirths will continue. And without having a strong store of kusala merits, one will really have a struggle ahead.

Doing such acts regularly will bring a measure of peace to the mind. What is more, this then creates a stronger base for future or present meditative pursuits. As more and more good acts—and the accompanying wholesome states of mind that bring these very acts into fruition, followed by feelings of joy and calm that accompany the completion of the skillful deed—are taken, the mind may also gain greater faith and confidence in the overall teachings, thus providing increased energy with which to practice. Such meritorious deeds, and the pure volition pushing them forward, are thus a powerful aid for developing increasingly higher qualities of mind.