State of the world

This is an AI-generated transcript from auto-generated subtitles for the video State of the World. It likely contains inaccuracies, especially with speaker attribution if there are multiple speakers.

The following talk was given by Gil Fronsdal at Insight Meditation Center in Redwood City, CA on August 13, 2023. Please visit the website www.audiodharma.org for more information.

State of the world

Good morning everyone. Can you hear all right? The volume is good. Hello everyone online who is watching, welcome as well.

I want to bring up a fascinating topic for me, at least, but a challenging topic for some of you. In fact, some of you might come up to me afterwards and say, "Gil, you don't understand, let me tell you how it really is. You're not taking something into account." So, I do this talk with great risk. The topic is the state of the world.

"Oh God."

That was a perfect comment, given the state of the world! [Laughter]

Just that phrase elicits a lot of responses in people. Some people have despair around the state of the world, some people have a lot of anxiety, and some people have a lot of opinions. The topic elicits a lot of predictions and imagination, where we don't see the difference between predictions and actuality. We don't see the difference between predictions and what has to and will happen. Even to say that is challenging because of how strong the views are about what is actually going to happen.

This topic isn't something I've been reflecting on for the last few days. But earlier this week, someone presented this topic in a very open way for reflection: "When you think of the state of the world, what arises for you?" It was obvious, when some of you gasped, that something arises just from the topic.

For me, the context in which this was brought up was unique. By that time, I had spent four or five days living outdoors—really outdoors—sleeping on the ground with the open sky above me. There was a little bit of a tree canopy over me, but I could still see the stars. I had spent much of the day sitting in this meditation posture on the ground, surrounded by a community of nine large trees.

Being at this level, the ground was really close; it was kind of special. The ground was uneven, so I always had to take it into account. There was a gentle slope going uphill, covered in dried California grass, so when I looked out, the ground was right there to look at. Because I was sitting so low, mostly what I was aware of with the trees, besides the shade they provided, was their trunks. They were big trunks that were stable and strong and had been there for many years.

I've been in the same kind of situation for a week before. There are some wild and difficult things that happen in that grove of trees, but the stability and the strength of these trees, and the solidity of the ground we're sitting on, was phenomenal. So, in that context, someone brought up the state of the world for reflection.

Which World?

My first thought was, "Which world is she talking about?" There are so many worlds that we live in. The English word "world" is interesting. In the Buddhist language, Pali, they have the word loka^[1], which kind of sounds like "loca," meaning crazy in Spanish. [Laughter] Well, that's just a coincidence, but the word loka has different reference points, just like the English word "world."

For some people, it just means the Earth—not just the physical Earth, but everything in it. Is it the human world? Some people limit it to the human world. Is it the animal world? We used to use the expression "the animal world," referring to a certain subsection of this Earth.

Is it the political world? When some people hear "the state of the world," they think of politics, like the state of American politics. Ever since I was aware of American politics, people have been reacting this way. I think the first big thing I was aware of in my lifetime was the Nixon-Kennedy election. As a little kid, my preference was just for the person who had the nicer name. But a few years later, it made a big impact to be in elementary school—probably third grade—and have the teacher tell us and then send us home because President Kennedy had been assassinated. So, the state of politics has elicited strong reactions for as long as there's been politics or a world.

Is it the environmental world? Difficult things are happening with the destruction of the environment and the climate. Is that what we refer to as the world? What is the world we live in?

I was sitting there wondering about this. Maybe because I was sitting on the ground, I thought, "What is the state of the world from the point of view of the mountains?" They are kind of solid. I mean, they come and go too, but the mountains have been there, stable and strong, for so long. The weather comes and goes, the seasons come and go, the dinosaurs come and go. From the point of view of the mountains, what is the state of the world like?

What is the state of the world from the point of view of the oceans? I love oceans. I spend a lot of time on the surface or at the edge of the water. I marvel when I go to the Pacific coast here and watch the waves wash across the sand and then wash out, over and over again. I think, "Wow, it's been doing this for a long, long time." I'm seeing a scene here that I could have seen a hundred thousand years ago, or a million years ago, or a hundred million years ago. From the point of view of the oceans, they have seen so much coming and going, ups and downs.

In my hometown of Bergen, Norway, there's a marker that says in the year 1200, the water level from the ocean was far above where it is now. Less than a thousand years ago, the ocean level was much higher. I marvel at this: where is the ocean, and how does it change over these centuries, millennia, and millions of years? The ocean comes, stays, and sees so much change.

Is it reasonable to ask these questions from those perspectives? For me, it highlights the perspective I might use when I hear the phrase "state of the world," and it contextualizes it. It's a particular viewpoint I'm using. Is it the only viewpoint? Is it the best point of view to define the state of the world at any given moment?

I marvel at the redwood trees we have here in California. Some of those nine trees that surrounded us were redwoods. Apparently, redwood trees are among the very oldest species of life on this planet. Things come and go, but the species of redwood trees we have here are a hundred million years old. That's phenomenal. Humans haven't been around that long. What have the redwood trees seen in a hundred million years of coming and going?

If you ever want to study the movement of tectonic plates on this planet, it's fascinating. I grew up taking the Earth for granted: seven continents, and this is just how it is. But the continents have come and gone over billions of years. There are continents with funny names that no longer exist and didn't have names back then. So, the redwood trees have seen so much.

Our Relationship to the World

What is the state of the world, and more importantly perhaps, what is our relationship to the state of the world?

There are people whose relationship to the state of the world is that they are victims; that's their primary orientation. For some people, their relationship is that they feel responsible for it. They feel personally responsible for solving the world. Someone last week talked about how that might come from Western myths—the hero's journey—which is a very individual journey. You have to be the hero, and it's up to you alone to do it, so you feel responsible.

Is our perspective one of being consumers of the world? Is it just for us to consume, to have more experiences, to have more things, to have more comfort?

Is our perspective one of having power and dominion over it? To have authority, to be in control, to say, "It's all mine"? There are individuals, cultures, and perhaps even worldviews passed down through generations that believe it's our place to have power and authority over this world.

Are we consumers? The opposite of consumers could be: are we producers of this world? What does it mean to be the producer of the world? Is that a crazy concept? Are we stewards of the world? Are we participants in the world? Or are we the state of the world? To me, these are all very important questions.

I'd like to suggest that the Buddha saw us as the producers of the world in a unique way. Many cultures and religions have origin stories or creation myths for the world, many of which embed a lot of wisdom. Buddhism has one too, but we don't need that right now. The Buddha's point of view is more like a creation myth where the world begins in each of us. It is born in each of us, perhaps moment by moment.

Why is that important? Why would the Buddha say this? It sounds kind of crazy. Certainly, this planet was once just molten lava, without even water on it. We've had the growth and development of this planet, so how could it just be born right now? But remember, the word "world" is flexible. If it's a fluid word, then what does the Buddha mean when he implies that we are the producers of the world?

The Miracle of Instruction

A man once came to the Buddha and said, "In this town, there are people who are your followers. But they would have a lot more faith in you and your teachings if you would send a monk into town to perform miracles." Miracles impress people and get them into some religions, so the idea was that the more miracles you do, the more followers you get.

The Buddha said no, he wasn't going to command a monk to go do miracles. The man asked again, and the Buddha said no. In ancient India, if you ask something three times, it's pretty significant, and you have to take the person seriously. So the man asked a third time.

The Buddha didn't say yes, but he didn't refuse either. Instead, he said there are three kinds of miracles. There are the miracles that arise from meditation practice—the miraculous wonders the mind can see. There's another kind of miracle, and then he went on to say there is the miracle of instruction.

Imagine that! How is the instruction a teacher gives a miracle? He explained that the miracle of instruction is teaching people how to focus their thinking and what to think about. It's instructing people how not just to think, but to have deeper, creative, generative contemplation. It's the miracle of instructing people on what to let go of. Then there's the miracle of instructing people on what states of heart and mind to enter into and rest in.

There are certain states of being that are really useful and valuable. Buddhist meditation practice points to this. It's not simply doing practices, but doing the practices that open the door to different inner states—how to be in this world, enter those doors, and abide in them. Those are miracles. So, the idea of sending a monk into town to perform miracles becomes sending them into town to teach.

Where the World Ceases

As he often did when dismissing ideas of supernatural miracles, the Buddha accommodated the person's mindset by telling a myth, going along with them, and then turning the tables.

He started by saying, "Once upon a time, long, long ago, there was a monk who wanted to know where earth, water, fire, and wind end." This refers to the whole physical world we live in. Part of the reason they would ask this in ancient India was that people were deeply dismayed, upset, scared, and aversive to how difficult this world is. This world is a painful place, and the idea was that the only way out is to transcend it—to die and go to some good place where this world ceases to exist.

So, those people probably thought, "Oh, he's going to talk about the state of the world? That's going to be a heavy, difficult talk, because we're going to talk about how terrible it is, and the point is to get off this world." To learn the language of transcending is to go where earth, water, fire, and wind cease.

The monk wanted to find someone who could answer this question, so he went to ask the gods. He traveled up to a god realm and asked a god, who said, "No, you have to go to a higher realm." He kept going to higher and higher realms until he came to the highest god in the Indian pantheon at the time, which was Brahma^[2].

He asked, "Brahma, where do earth, water, fire, and wind cease?" Brahma replied, "I am the great Brahma, the all-knowing, the all-powerful, the wise, luminous Brahma." The monk asked the question again, and Brahma said the same thing. Remember the rule about three times? The monk asked Brahma again.

Brahma got down from his throne, took the monk by the elbow, and said, "Come over here." He spoke privately and said, "You know, the other gods here think that I'm all-knowing... [Laughter] but I don't really know the answer to your question, and I can't admit it. You should go ask the Buddha."

So the monk went back to the Earth to ask the Buddha where the elements cease. The Buddha said, "Long ago, in my previous lifetime, I was a sage who looked for the end of the world. I traveled in every direction. I could travel as fast as an arrow for a hundred years at a time, and I never came to the end of the world."

"You won't find a place where the world ceases," the Buddha explained. "In your own body—this is where you find the cessation. It's not the cessation of earth, water, fire, and air; it's the place where earth, fire, water, and air no longer have a footing. It is where we no longer hold on to them, where the world we live in no longer roots itself in our consciousness. It's still there, but it doesn't stick to us."

That is a fascinating idea. It's a place where knowing is no longer visible. Knowing has no limits, no boundaries, no edges. Knowing is luminous and clear all around. From the Buddhist point of view, knowing that can't be seen is knowing that is not attached to anything. As soon as knowing has an attachment, it creates a contraction or tightness that others can pick up on. When someone is caught up in concern about the state of the world, or full of desire or anger, you can see their mind is caught. But when knowing has no attachment, there's no way to read the person's mind; that knowing is free.

The Buddha felt that as soon as you're attached to something or stuck in an idea, you've created a limit to the world you live in. But there is a way of knowing that has no definition and no limit, bringing a clarity and openness that he calls luminous.

The point is not to transcend the world, but to find a place where our mind is not rooted or caught in it. So, turning the tables on the man who wanted supernatural powers, the Buddha said, "You're asking the wrong question. Don't ask where the world ceases. Ask where the world has no footing, where it doesn't grab us, where we do not get attached to it." That happens where knowing has no limit and is luminous because there is no attachment.

The Fathom-Long Body

In another story, someone asked the Buddha where the loka (the world) comes to an end. The Buddha replied, "The world is this fathom-long body^[3]."

Here, he is defining the world as this fathom-long body. The Buddha continually points the attention of a practitioner to the world of direct experience in the here and now. The "here and now" isn't the god of Buddhism; it's the place where we are in touch with our direct experience—the five senses and knowing.

He saw this fathom-long body as the way we experience the world in the senses. He said it is here that we see the world, the arising of the world, the ceasing of the world, and the practices that lead to the cessation of the world. He slides back and forth between calling it loka (the world) and dukkha^[4] (suffering). In this fathom-long body, we produce the world. The world begins for each of us in our direct experience, not in our imagination or memory, which are uncertain and predictive. Our direct experience always begins fresh and new every moment.

Producing the World We Want

Why is it so important to say that the world is born here? Because if you are just waiting for everyone else to make the world you want to live in, you're going to wait a long time. If you have the imagination of how horrible the state of the world is, chances are you also have an imagination of what's possible and what could be wonderful. If there is a possibility of a wonderful world, don't wait for other people to make it. Be the producer of your world.

Be the person who reflects what you want the world to be. If you want a world where people are kind, friendly, supportive, cooperative, and resolve conflicts, then be that way. Be kind. Be friendly. Be generous. Work on solving conflicts. Don't pass it on to others, expecting them to do it. If you view yourself simply as a consumer or a victim, it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy, producing the very thing you are afraid of.

To be the producer of the world starts here, and then we can do it together with others. We can find other people who are producing a good world, and there are phenomenally many people doing so. There was a wonderful book celebrating how many small nonprofits there are in the world right now—people making small efforts in little towns and cities to address climate change and environmental issues. The sum total of all these small efforts is phenomenal. There was an article today about the exponential growth of alternative energy sources being adopted by many small local governments.

We want to live in a world where we engage in collective efforts. Instead of hero-worshipping, we should value our collective energy. Let it begin with you, and find people to share and work with. Then something beautiful happens.

Who knows? The San Andreas fault might shake any minute now. It's only a mile or two from here. There is a level of tension where two tectonic plates are pressing and rubbing against each other. The friction hasn't given in yet, but at some point, the pressure will be enough, and it will shift. The last time it happened dramatically was in 1906.

I'm not saying this so you'll go home afraid. That's one way to address the state of the world—to be frightened by it, to be a victim of it. But another way is to be the producer of the world, to cultivate the best qualities of a human being. So that when the equivalent of the San Andreas fault shakes, we're ready for it. We're ready for the beginning of a new world, a new town, or a new state. We're ready to bring forth the best qualities we have to contribute to what's new in a good way. We see this happen many times in many places; tragedies are often caused by very few, but so many people come together to address the issues.

I'll end with the words of Mr. Rogers, someone who I don't think believed in the individual hero's journey. He attributed a lot of who he became to his mother. When he was a boy and saw terrible things happening in the world, he asked her about it. She said, "Look around and look for the helpers. There are lots of people helping. Don't forget that."

Don't be so overwhelmed by what's happening in the world that you don't see the helpers. And don't be so overwhelmed by the world that you don't become one of the helpers. That's the world we want to live in. There is so much uncertainty, but let's not be uncertain about the goodness of our own hearts. Let's be the producers of the world. Let's make it together into a place that is good.

I think that's the message of the Buddha: here, you can be free. Here, you can free yourself of your attachments. Here, your heart and mind can become luminous. And here is where your kindness, compassion, care, generosity, wisdom, patience, and equanimity can come and meet this world.

Maybe even as soon as you get in your car to drive home, drive as if you're creating a new world.

Those are my thoughts today. Thank you.