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

Guided Meditation: Doing What is Wholesome

So then, good morning everyone, or good day. Welcome.

One of the things that I delight in, and somehow find myself re-delighted, maybe surprised almost, when I sit down to meditate is the regularity of meditation, the continuity of it. The way that meditating regularly creates both the rhythm of meditation, but also a sense of continuity. Sometimes felt like a momentum, sometimes felt like a homecoming, sometimes feeling like an ongoing inspiration. This ongoingness. So it's not just this particular meditation, but the stream of meditation, just being in a stream or a river of something flowing that's continuous day after day, month after month, year after year, decade after decade for some of us. So I'm delighted to be here and be in this meditation posture of mine. And if you're able, or you have been meditating on a regular basis, maybe you too will feel the delight, the inspiration, or that momentum.

To go along with the talk I'm going to give today, I'd like to suggest a mindfulness exercise. If it's too busy and makes you more agitated than peaceful, you're welcome to put it aside. But the exercise is, when you find yourself mindful of anything, very lightly with a kind of open, general touch, ask yourself, "If I keep doing this, what is the consequence? Is this consequence beneficial for me or not? Is it a healthy consequence or not?" Maybe not so much in the final results, but just in the ongoing doing of it. Does it feel like it's a good thing to do? Whatever answer you get, don't think about it or analyze it. If it's not obvious, just continue what you're doing, but ask periodically.

It's particularly relevant if you get pulled into the world of thoughts: "If I continue in this realm of thinking, is this going to lead to a good result? Does it feel like it's a useful or healthy thing to be involved this way? Or is it more beneficial for now, more healthy, to come back into the meditation, to shift the attention out of the world of thinking and concerns to here? To let something here be known, be settled, be connected?"

I know in my meditation, after sitting for a few minutes, it's quite common to recognize a shift where I've been thinking somewhat, and then my system feels that's not the place to be. I'll settle back and settle in to be connected to something that's deeper, or fuller, or much more beneficial. Even if I'm thinking about good things, it's so much better to come to this healing place, settling place, calming place of meditation for these minutes.

So, assuming a meditative posture, lower your gaze, relax your gaze, letting your eyeballs rest in your eyes. And if it's comfortable, you can close your eyes. In a calm way, take a few long, slow, deep breaths. Long, slow, deep breaths. As you exhale, calmly relax, soften, gentle your body. And then calmly return to an ordinary way of breathing. Breathing in and breathing out.

As you exhale, relax parts of your body. Maybe a global relaxation, the whole body relaxing with the weight of the body into the surface that's holding your body up—your seat, your cushion, your bed, whatever it might be. Maybe as you exhale, relax your belly. As you relax the belly, allow the weight to gently settle down to a good foundation for the rest of the torso.

On the exhale, relax the chest, the heart center. If there's tension or ache in that area, soften around it. It's okay for it to be there for now; just hold it gently, softly. See if you can be relaxed about it being there.

On the exhale, relax the shoulders, releasing them to the pull of gravity.

On the exhale, soften the muscles of the face. Maybe letting the lips be slightly apart, the teeth slightly apart, so that the jaw relaxes. Soften the forehead and around the eyes.

And on the exhale, relax the mind. Whatever tension, pressure, or heaviness there might be associated with thinking—tension in the forehead, in the brain, the temple area, maybe the jaw. Whatever physical tension is associated with thinking, as you exhale, relax, releasing the mind from tension.

Then settle yourself into your breathing, shifting away from thoughts and concerns into an embodiment where you are present, attending, accompanying the body breathing. In whatever way you're using your attention, whatever gets the focus of attention, does it feel healthy for you to do so the way you're doing it? Is it in some way beneficial? If it doesn't feel healthy or beneficial—how you're being attentive, or what your attention is going towards—see if you can shift it to something healthy. To a useful way of paying attention, to a useful thing to focus on. Hopefully something like the body, the body breathing, is a useful place to attend. And if not, then maybe sounds. Here, now.

As we come to the end of this sitting, you might, with your mind's eye, turn your gaze outward into your world of communities. Communities you know, communities you're part of, out across the lands. As you bring these to mind, gazing out upon the world, is there any anxiety or fear in that gaze, in that awareness, that feels unhealthy or unbeneficial? Can you shift that to gazing from a place of feeling secure and confident?

As you gaze out upon the world, is there any sense that the gaze is influenced by aversion, irritation, or frustration? If there is, can you shift it to something that's healthier? Shift it to a gaze that's informed by kindness, compassion, and care for others.

If the gaze out upon the world seems to be filtered through desires, ambitions, or wanting something for oneself, can you shift it to something that feels more healthy or wholesome? Perhaps a gaze of generosity and goodwill.

Perhaps at the end of a session of meditation, you're a little bit better able to notice the ways in which we are aware, and to shift from something that feels not beneficial to beneficial, not healthy to healthy, unwholesome to wholesome. In this way, maybe we can dedicate the benefit of the meditation out into the world for the welfare and happiness of all beings. In whatever way we've benefited today from sitting and meditating together, may it spread out from this meditation community into the wider world for the happiness and welfare of all beings. May all beings be happy. May all beings be safe. May all beings be peaceful. And may all beings everywhere be free.

Serving What is Wholesome

Today I'm going to talk a little bit about a discourse of the Buddha that I find inspiring in its simplicity. It's very repetitive, so in years past I would have just glossed over it and not really read it carefully. But lately I find it very meaningful in its repetition and simplicity. The context we're giving it is how I'm feeling after a very full week of all kinds of input from this world around me. I taught a two-week retreat that ended last Sunday, a wonderful experience of being absorbed in the world with Dharma, and in a sense, came out of it into the wider world again to experience many things that are difficult and wonderful in this world of ours.

The big one that had a major impact on me was reading about the COVID-19 situation in the United States and the wider world, and also talking to people who work in hospitals about their experiences. Reading about what is happening in and around hospitals—it's so tragic how many people are sick, impacted, and dying from the illness. There is tremendous strain on the hospital systems; hospitals in various states are overflowing, and people are not able to find hospitals that will take them because they're all full.

I am also struck by the tremendous fault lines of tension that exist in this country, which are exacerbated by this whole COVID-19 crisis. The level of animosity and hate in all directions that is being spread and acted upon is astounding for what is an illness from which many people are dying. At the beginning of the pandemic last year, there was a fair amount of discussion about superheroes: the medical first responders, nurses, doctors, and staff who were showing up to support, help, and offer medical care to people sick and dying of COVID. They were doing it at the risk of their own lives. That is still happening. It is frustrating for them that, even with the vaccine available—they are probably vaccinated themselves—it is still dangerous, and they have to experience so much death. Some of these people in the hospital are witnessing multiple deaths a day, day after day.

But there are also some hospitals where demonstrations are taking place outside, where people are angry at the medical staff for treating COVID. There is a whole divide between anti-vax and pro-vax people, with anti-vax individuals sometimes denying there is even COVID. I've read about nurses who will take off their uniforms and medical badges before going into local stores, because if they wear them, people hate them and attack them verbally. They don't feel safe. I heard a story of people going to work to try and keep patients from dying, who had to walk through a gauntlet of protesters yelling hatred at them. It felt so painful to read and learn about these experiences going on on so many fronts.

I wondered, "What do I say? How do I talk about this?" I felt like I had to say something about it in a Dharma talk. Then, other experiences during the week that are very much on my heart also led me to ask, "What do I say here?" So I decided to talk about this particular discourse, which I think many people might read and not find inspiring. They might find it dead, soporifically repetitive, and dull. But I don't think that was the case when it was originally composed. It was composed in an oral culture, and the repetition was part of the song, the rhythm, and the tune; there was a lyricism to it. Chanting it in unison in monastic communities was like a song repeating its lines over and over, creating a rhythm that affects the heart and allows these great Dharma points to wash through us. They couldn't write back then, so if you wanted to remember something, you had to memorize it. Memorizing in this rhythmic way, repeating the same lines with slight changes, was probably very effective in an oral culture, even if it feels less effective in a written one.

This text is number 114 in the Middle Length Discourses, the discourse on the word sevitabba^[1]. Some of you know the word seva; it is an Indic word that means to serve or to help someone. There's an organization that Ram Dass^[2] started called the Seva Foundation that does humanitarian work in India and other places. It comes from this word meaning to serve, but it also means to attend to, or to practice. I love this idea that the word means both, that somehow we practice in order to serve. It's a way of serving. The most common translation renders it as "what should be cultivated." But "cultivated" misses the idea that there's a little bit of a devotional quality to it—of serving, of helping. What should we serve? What do we give ourselves to in a nice way? It is practices that it's talking about.

In this teaching, the Buddha gives a very simple teaching without explanation, and then his disciple Sāriputta^[3] follows up with an explanation of what it means. The Buddha then approves of it and offers another simple teaching, Sāriputta explains, and the third round follows the same pattern. At the end, the Buddha summarizes that if laypeople listen to this and apply it in their lives, it will be for their long-term happiness and welfare. It is interesting that he specifies laypeople. In a sense, it's a little bit like secular Buddhism; there's nothing about rebirth, or liberation, or anything that makes it more complicated or religious. It is simply: "Here are some things you can do that are beneficial for you, how you can live your ordinary life if you pay attention to this." It points to the heart of the Buddha's message and something very central to how he orients himself.

The Buddha starts by talking about what should be done and what should not be done, or what one should serve and what one should not serve, what one should practice and what one should not practice. We are always doing something, whether we are thinking, using our body, or speaking. What criteria do we use for what we do with our body, speech, and mind? We shouldn't just leave it to chance or let it run amok. We should have some presence of mind to notice what we are doing and make a choice. What do we serve?

The Buddha makes a list. He says: "There is conduct of body that one should serve, and conduct of body that one should not serve. There is conduct of speech that one should serve, and conduct of speech that one should not serve. There is conduct of mind that one should serve, and conduct of mind that one should not serve." Then he goes on: "There are dispositions of mind that one should serve, and dispositions that one should not serve. There are perceptions and conceptions of the world that we should serve, and ones we should not serve. There are views, opinions, and stories of the world and ourselves that we should serve, and ones we should not serve." Then there is an interesting one for many people who struggle with Buddhist ideas: "There are identities that we should serve, and identities we should not serve."

This way of thinking is central to the Buddhist teachings because it avoids categorical claims about what one should do. Some Buddhists have the categorical idea that you should have no identities; you should let go of all identities when you practice. But here, the Buddha doesn't want to reject or accept everything in a given category. He is always looking at how there is some way you should engage with it, and some way you shouldn't.

After the Buddha says this, Sāriputta says, "Let me explain further." The Buddha says, "Sure." And Sāriputta explains: "If what you are doing is unwholesome, don't do it. If what you are serving is wholesome, keep doing it. If your disposition is unwholesome, don't indulge it. If it is wholesome, do it. If the identity you are holding onto is unwholesome—leading to affliction and harming you—don't do it. But if it is wholesome, leading to non-affliction, then it is fine to do it." So Sāriputta's evaluation is based entirely on wholesomeness and unwholesomeness, which is sometimes translated as skillfulness and unskillfulness. It points to the consequences: "In doing this, what are the consequences?" If it has skillful, beneficial consequences that are useful for you, then do it. If not, don't.

Here is an evaluation process that each person can do for themselves. These are not categorical teachings about how to behave or about ethics; it's more nuanced than that. Some people will not like this text because it feels so dualistic. They will say it sets up a binary of what should and shouldn't be done, leaving no room for anything else. But that itself is a view. What about non-dualism? The Buddha would say there is a way to serve non-dualism that one should do, and a way of serving non-dualism that one should not do. If it's wholesome, do it. If it's not wholesome, don't do it. By having this guide, each person becomes their own teacher, finding our way forward. The word for skillful is very close to the English word for ethical. It is how we become our own ethical guide. It is crucial to the Buddhist teachings that we develop the ability to recognize the quality of all the things we do in body, speech, and mind, and to track it.

When it is unwholesome, it feels painful. It has an "ouch" in it. There is an ache, a contraction, tension, stress, or a closing down. The unwholesome undermines the person who has it. Things like anger, hostility, delusion, and greed are the primary representations of the unwholesome. The ancient texts talk about how greed, hatred, and delusion burn the person who has them. They might be outwardly directed—wanting something or being hostile to someone else—but we are harming ourselves when we engage in them. It isn't always major harm, but there is a feeling of tension, stress, or self-alienation.

When things are done wholesomely, there is a whole other way of feeling. It doesn't feel deflating or diminishing. It doesn't have an "ouch"; it has more of an "ah". There is a feeling of "yes" to it, an opening, relaxing, delight, or warmth. Not everyone associates the English word "wholesome" with something that feels so good. But when I was a kid, advertisements for bread talked about "wholesome bread." That is my big association with the word. The idea was that it was nutritious, but it also felt comfortable. Like food we grew up with that a parent made; it felt like more than just tasty—it felt like the parent's love came with it. It was nourishing in a psychological way. That is what I associate "wholesome" with. We do things that have this beneficial effect.

For some people, this is a new idea: that we could carefully track ourselves with mindfulness and make simple choices. Away from what is unwholesome to what is wholesome. Away from what has an "ouch" and toward what has an "ah"—what is nourishing for us. One of the purposes of mindfulness is to develop a high sensitivity to that very difference, so we can choose to be nourished. It isn't just about being mindful in the present moment; it's being mindful so we can make simple choices as they become obvious.

It could be as simple as how we make a meal. If we do it tense, in a hurry, resentful, or afraid about whether they will like our food, that has an "ouch" to it. But if we do it with inspiration, joy, love, and generosity—delighted that we have people we can feed—it has a very different feeling, done from love.

We track this, know it, and begin to smell the direction almost as second nature, moving toward what's wholesome. This is the way we can hopefully find our way in a fractured society that has a lot of tension, hatred, and greed that we don't want to contribute to. Unwholesomeness produces more unwholesomeness. Wholesomeness produces more wholesomeness, both for oneself and out into the world. So we unfailingly and dedicatedly live a life committed to the wholesome, the beneficial, the inspiring, and the greater welfare and happiness of all beings.

We don't always know what that means in terms of actual things in the world. Should we vote for different kinds of taxes or not? What kind of electoral system should we have? These are big questions that are difficult to agree on, let alone have answers for. But we must be very careful not to lose sight of the wholesome in discussing these issues. Don't sacrifice the wholesome because of views, stories, and opinions. Remember what the Buddha said: there are some views that one should serve, and some views one should not serve. Views that have wholesome consequences should be served, but those which are unwholesome should not be.

It isn't just the views themselves, but how we hold them, use them, and speak about them. What I felt inspired to talk about in the wake of so many challenges in our society is this: may we contribute to the wholesomeness and nourishment of our society. Let us aim for what is truly good and beneficial for the welfare and happiness of every single person, including those who are marginalized or whom we often forget to include in our hearts. Let us include everyone in our hearts, even the people we disagree with, so that our attitude toward them remains wholesome.