--- ai_generation_date: '2026-09-14' ai_model: gemini-3-pro-preview audiodharma: talks: - date: '2021-03-22' mp3_url: https://audiodharma.us-east-1.linodeobjects.com/talks/13187/20210322-Kim_Allen-IMC-seeing_what_we_dont_see.mp3 speakers: - speaker_name: Kim Allen speaker_url: https://www.audiodharma.org/speakers/4 talk_start_time_seconds: 0 title: Seeing What we don't See url: https://www.audiodharma.org/talks/13187 video_unavailable: false location_city: Redwood City, CA video_unavailable: false youtube: id: bIcNfSCmrQA imprecise_upload_date: '2021-05-04' title: "Dharma Talk: Seeing What We Don\u2019t See" upload_date: null uploader_str: Insight Meditation Center uploader_url: https://www.youtube.com/@InsightMeditationCenter youtube_url: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bIcNfSCmrQA --- # Seeing What we don't See - [Kim Allen](https://www.audiodharma.org/speakers/4) _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._ ## [Seeing What we don't See](https://www.audiodharma.org/talks/13187) So, good evening or night or morning. I think many of us know that the essence of mindfulness practice is to notice things in our experience. When we first start paying attention to our body, our emotions, and our thoughts, we discover all kinds of things that were there anyway, but that we weren't noticing before. Sometimes people tell me that they wish they hadn't started mindfulness practice because as soon as they started looking, they saw some things that they didn't want to see or weren't so excited about seeing—various speech or actions going on that maybe they didn't want to know they were doing. But I tend to take this with a bit of a grain of salt, a bit lightly, because I think people really, really do want to see these things about themselves. As we practice further, we may start to notice that we have a favorite set of storylines, ways of thinking, and habits of speech that we use in our life. We could call all these things patterns. We have various patterns that come frequently in our experience. It's quite common that we see that, and often there's a sense that these are going on their own because they were there before we were noticing them. They run on their own under certain conditions. Often what they're about is rehearsing, refining, and reinforcing the story of our life, or the story of "me" if you will. This aspect of our experience is what could be called samsara[^1]. In Buddhism, there's this term samsara that means these habitual, karmic kinds of patterns that are going on in the background pretty much by themselves. Many of them are a form of dukkha[^2] because effectively they're just reactive. They tend to deviate from what's actually unfolding in experience and kind of take on a life of their own. Like when something happens and it reminds us of a challenge that we're having, suddenly we're no longer paying attention to what's happening. We've moved into our thoughts about, "Oh, that's like that difficulty," and then we go off on that and we've deviated from the present moment. That's how we often discover these things in meditation—is the ways that we fall away from present-moment mindfulness. That's essentially a kind of dukkha of being disconnected from the ongoing flow of experience. These are said to have a deadening effect on the mind. The Dhammapada[^3] verse 21 says the heedless, or those who are not paying attention, are as if already dead. Wow. So we're starting out on kind of the part of mindfulness that isn't as attractive. ## The Freedom of Responsiveness But I want to then say the other thing that we'll notice as we start practicing—and we'll notice it more and more because it's enabled through mindfulness practice—is that we aren't only reacting. There are actions that are more in the realm of freedom. They're unique, in-the-moment responses to what's happening that come from paying attention. We start to see more and more as we practice mindfulness that there is a freshness and an aliveness to the way we meet the moment. The mind can be vibrant, alive, connected to what's going on. Sometimes we surprise ourselves that we say something quite wise simply because we were paying attention more carefully than we had been up till now. So it's quite exciting to see those things, to know that the mind has this capacity to really meet experience some of the time. It's important in our practice to start being able to discern the difference between what we could call pattern behavior and free behavior. We start to learn what it feels like when the mind is just doing its habitual thing, and what it feels like when it's attentive, responsive, and doing things that are appropriate to the situation. We start seeing that contrast. Those are the two main ways that we could operate. Then we might start to get curious: what am I _not_ seeing? What I'm not seeing could hold me back. These patterns that run and I don't notice when they slip in—I can start to wonder, what am I missing here? Or how can I see what I don't see? That is the question I want to address tonight: how can we learn to see what it is that we're not seeing about our speech, actions, and thoughts? We weren't seeing certain things before we started; what else might we not be seeing at this point? It's an interesting question in spiritual practice: how could we see what we're not seeing? This is the realm of ignorance. Ignorance isn't some kind of stupidity, or that we didn't read enough or learn enough about it. Ignorance is what we're _ignoring_. It's what we're habitually not seeing. It's difficult to let go of things that we don't even know are there. We can sometimes, but often it's helpful if we're able to have some way of directing our mind toward being able to see the things that we're not seeing. Of course, there are plenty of times when what we're not seeing will come and find us. You don't have to worry, that will happen. But it can be interesting to have some techniques for looking into what it is that we may not be seeing. I want to offer three places tonight that we can look for what we're not seeing, to see what we don't see. ## 1. What We Don't Notice The first one is to take the direct approach and literally try to notice things that we have not been noticing. We can try to identify areas that we're not paying attention to. Sometimes it's possible to literally ask about this to spiritual friends. There's a wonderful story in the suttas[^4] that's a conversation between two monks, between Anuruddha[^5] and Sariputta[^6], who are friends. They've been practicing together for a long time. Anuruddha comments to Sariputta that he knows he has attained clairvoyance, and he has excellent energy and concentration, and yet he is not awakened. This may not be the realm that we're practicing in, but this is where Anuruddha was. Even when you're close to awakening, you may still know that you don't know things. He comes to Sariputta and says, "I know I'm not seeing something. I've got all this good stuff happening in my practice, and yet I'm not awakened. What is it that's going on?" Sariputta is a good spiritual friend, and he deftly points out that Anuruddha's attitude toward his accomplishments is revealing certain things about his mind. For example, he's revealing that his mind still contains some conceit, some restlessness, and some remorse, and so it would be good if he would abandon these things. Anuruddha is grateful that his friend pointed out what he was not seeing, and he practices in line with that and becomes an arahant[^7]—becomes awakened. It's kind of a sweet sutta because it demonstrates that one of the things our spiritual friends can do for us is that they might be able to see what we haven't yet let go of, and find the right way to encourage us. So it can be useful at the right time, of course, to reveal to our spiritual friends where we think we're stuck and actually ask for some advice about that. You can do this with teachers also. It may also be that we sometimes have to try to discern what we're not noticing in a more indirect way, and we can do that by just observing what other people are noticing—like our teacher, our friends, our partner, our colleagues. I'll give an example. There was a time very early in my practice when I was at a Buddhist gathering, and there was a card being passed around the group for a sangha member who was ill. The group wanted to support her by sending her a card. I was pretty new to the group. I didn't really know all the people, but I remember noticing that this was nice, thinking, "Oh, this is the kind of group that sends cards to people." I thought about the person a little bit, that I knew her, and so I was kind of on a pragmatic, practical level. That was what I noticed about the situation. Then, as the card was passed around, one of the people in the group looked at the card, put her hand to her heart, and said, "This is such a beautiful Buddha on this card." It was like she was really touched by the beautiful Buddha image that was on the card. I realized at that moment—the card had already gone by me—that I hadn't even really noticed the picture on the card. I didn't even look at that aspect of it. I was intrigued that she had seen this. Maybe at that time, as I was pretty new to practice, I don't know that I would have called a Buddha image beautiful. I would recognize it, but to put my hand to my heart and say it was beautiful? I don't know that I would have done that. That little incident was one of the triggers for an investigation in my own practice into the quality of faith, which is something that I had not been paying really any attention to. It wasn't my style. But because of that, I wondered, "What am I missing here?" So I looked into that, and I learned quite a bit about faith by trying to open to it. And now I have this Buddha which I think is very beautiful! Things change over time when we notice new things. So it's important to be intrigued by what other people notice that we don't notice. That's one area where we can look: what is it that I'm not noticing? ## 2. What We Don't Question The second area that we might look at is what we don't question. This has two different aspects to it. The first is there might be areas where we simply don't think to question more deeply. Again, there's a story in the suttas about an elderly man whose name was Nakulapita[^8]. He comes to see the Buddha, and he points out to the Buddha when he arrives that it's quite a rare event for him to be able to come and see the Buddha. So he says, "I am old, venerable sir, aged, burdened with years, advanced in life, come to the last stage, afflicted in body, often ill. I rarely get to see the Blessed One and the bhikkhus[^9] worthy of esteem. Let the Blessed One exhort me, venerable sir. Let him instruct me, since that would lead to my welfare and happiness for a long time." The Buddha first of all agrees with him that this is indeed a rare event, and he gives him a teaching. The Buddha says, "So it is, householder, so it is. This body of yours is afflicted, weighed down, encumbered. If anyone carrying around this body were to claim to be healthy even for a moment, what is that due to other than foolishness?" It's quite straightforward. So then he says, "Therefore, householder, you should train yourself thus: even though I am afflicted in body, my mind will be unafflicted. Thus you should train yourself." Nakulapita, it is said, delighted in the teaching of the Buddha. He was very happy and he departs. Later, as he's leaving, he comes across Sariputta, who comments how he looks very serene. "Wow, householder, your faculties are serene," he says. Nakulapita says, "Oh yes," and he repeats his whole conversation with the Buddha. Sariputta admonishes him, actually, and he says, "Didn't it occur to you, householder, to question the Blessed One further as to how one is afflicted in body and mind, and how one is afflicted in body but not afflicted in mind? Didn't you think to ask what it means to be afflicted or unafflicted in mind when your body is afflicted?" Nakulapita says, "Well, no, I didn't think to ask that, actually." And so then he asks for further instruction from Sariputta, who then gives a whole discourse unfolding the meaning of this very concise teaching that the Buddha gave. It may be that there are areas of the teachings where we're just passively taking them in, but we are actually meant to engage with the teachings—either by literally asking questions or by at least investigating in our practice and trying them out, poking and prodding and seeing if they work and how they work for us. We're not really meant to swallow things whole. That doesn't mean that we need to be asking questions all the time; things do unfold at their own pace. But it may be that there are areas where we have some question. We never really understood that teaching about dependent origination, or we're not really sure what not-self is about. Instead of continuing to just hear these teachings, we could ask some questions about them, dig a little deeper sometimes. Sometimes what we don't question can reveal areas that we have not been paying very much attention to in our practice. ### Questioning Our Assumptions There's a deeper, second aspect of what we don't question, and that points toward the assumptions that we're living by, which can be serious blocks in our practice. They're very hard to see. It's actually quite hard to see the assumptions that we're living by, the lenses that we have over our eyes, over our practice, over our way of being in the world. Assumptions lurk generally in our thinking and in our interpretation of events. One way that we can reveal them is to ask questions. I'll give a specific example. Suppose that we are angry about something. We know that's something that's really bothering us. We could just say, "Mindfulness of anger. Anger, feel it in the body. Anger," and then wait for it to go away eventually. But we could also do some investigation of that. We might look a little bit more carefully. Or, of course, what we might do is just justify the anger and say, "Well, I don't have to look into that anger, that's obviously justified. That person is clearly in the wrong, that social situation is clearly unjust. No need to question further." However, if you're interested, here's a train of thinking and asking that can be quite revealing. If we're angry, we are typically in opposition to something. That's kind of what the state of anger is about; it's an opposition. We may not even know what, or why we assume that that's useful. When we're feeling angry or oppositional, it can be interesting to ask a set of three questions: 1. **What am I opposing?** It might be that we casually think that we know what we're opposing—"I'm opposing my sister" or something. But it's not exactly your whole sister that you're opposing. What precisely is it that you're opposing? Look a little bit more carefully and check into that. 2. **Do I need to oppose it?** This calls into question the stance of opposition. It doesn't say that you're not going to do anything or that you should approve of it. Instead, it only says, "Do I need to oppose it?" Which then just automatically opens up, "Oh, might there be other responses? Or might there be other avenues to bring about what I would like to see changed, as opposed to opposition?" Might there be other possibilities for this situation? We might not have ever thought there was any option besides simply opposing this thing that is unpleasant. 3. **Is opposing even called for here?** You might still think that you need to oppose it. But is opposing even called for here? We're sort of calling into question whether opposing could have positive results. Usually, opposing creates more conflict, actually. That tends to be its nature. These questions are not meant to say that you're wrong, or that the other person is actually good, or that there doesn't need to be anything done. It's just a way of teasing into what we might not be questioning about our way of being in the world. We could do this in all kinds of cases. I picked out anger, but it applies to all kinds of dukkha. Cases of desire: What am I desiring? Do I need to desire it? Is desiring even called for here? Or cases of confusion, or any kind of dukkha, really. So, don't be satisfied with surface answers to these questions and see if you can go deeper. Another approach that people have to discovering their thinking is a set of repeating questions. You can ask, "Why is that important?" If you think something is important, you're obsessing about it, thinking about it, you can ask, "Why is that important?" And you'll get an answer, and it's probably true. But then you ask, "And why is _that_ important?" And you'll get another answer. And you ask, "And why is _that_ important?" It draws the mind down toward the values that we have and what it is that is really important to us in that situation. That can help a lot in understanding how we're thinking about a situation, and what it is that's really driving that obsessive thinking. We can learn a lot about our practice and our mind—some things that we weren't noticing before. ## 3. What We Don't Laugh About So we have what we don't notice, what we don't question, and then the third way of approaching seeing what we don't see is what we don't laugh about. What we don't find funny tends to reveal where our identity is invested. It is not that everything should be humorous, but if we can't find any lightness in some area, it's worth investigating to see if there's some kind of sticking point there for us. It's likely a place where we're identified. The Buddha points out in the Simile of the Snake Sutta (Majjhima Nikaya 22)[^10] that any form of identification is dukkha; it will eventually bring dukkha. That may or may not be clear to us, but it's worth investigating these areas that we can't find anything light or humorous in. It's very worthwhile to develop a sense of humor in our practice. Many things in the mind are actually kind of funny, including many of our patterns. We can have a little lightness and say, "Ah, there's that one again, yes." That can be very helpful. Sylvia Boorstein[^11] says that we need three things in practice: gentleness, precision, and humor, and I think she's onto something. We need to be so gentle with this habituated, stressed mind, but also precise about questioning its assumptions. And in the end, we have to find it somewhat humorous about how recalcitrant it is to be changed, and how tricky it is about reasserting its graspings and identity. If we don't have a sense of humor, we may not have the patience to continue to work with the mind. There was a wonderful 20th-century Thai Forest teacher named Ajahn Buddhadasa[^12] who was a boxer before he became a monk. That was his first profession; he was a professional boxer. Then he ordained and practiced for a while, and eventually, he became a well-known teacher, had his own monastery, and trained a lot of people, including some of the Western teachers that we now have in our tradition here. Because he was a boxer earlier, he retained a somewhat belligerent air, let's say, about him. So he could sometimes come across as rough or blunt. He didn't really oppose in the way that I was just talking about in the previous example, but still, he had that kind of roughness about him. Sometimes people would take offense at it in certain ways and think that a spiritual teacher should only be kind and gentle and warm, and so forth. If somebody challenged his demeanor sometimes, Ajahn Buddhadasa would just roar with laughter and he would say, "Oh, that's just my personality!" He had learned in his own heart to make peace with just the way his mind was, still kind of a boxer in certain ways. Now, he was of course quite free inside and wasn't caught up in that identity, but he recognized that his personality still had that and had a certain amount of lightness about just how he was. That helped other people to lighten up, then. If they were concerned about that, and he just laughed and was gentle about it, then they would say, "Oh, okay, it's just his personality." I teach from the suttas fairly frequently, and one thing that I look for in people as they develop in their practice and in their study is, often there will be a point where people realize that the suttas are hilarious. Some of the suttas are hilarious! You get to the point where you can imagine the scene going on, and there's somebody asking this question, or questioning the Buddha in a certain way, or misunderstanding what he's saying in a certain way. You can just imagine the scene and you think, "Ah, wow, it must have been funny to be there." I thought about trying to give an example of this, but then I decided that it's something that we really have to come to on our own. But if you've never thought of the Pali Canon as funny, I recommend trying it and just seeing some of the lightness in the exchanges that the Buddha has with people. It's clear to me, at least, that the people who compiled the discourses had some sense of humor in how it got presented. ## Conclusion We've talked tonight about trying to have some way of seeing what we don't see, of opening up our practice so that we can notice more, which is what mindfulness is about. It's about noticing more things, noticing different things, seeing the mind in different ways so that we can continue to untangle the knots that bind our heart in various ways. Looking into what we don't notice, looking into what we don't question, and looking into what we don't laugh about can be wonderful ways of broadening and deepening our practice, and also keeping it fresh and alive. This talk is especially for if you're feeling a little stale in your practice, or like it's always the same, or you're a little stuck or dry. We go through periods like that, it's normal. But it's good to have some ways of finding new areas of the mind to look into. I hope this has given you some sense of that. I wish you a very good evening and ongoing practice. Well, everyone. --- [^1]: **Samsara:** The continuous cycle of birth, life, death, and rebirth, often associated with habitual, karmic patterns and worldly suffering. [^2]: **Dukkha:** A Pali word often translated as "suffering," "stress," or "unsatisfactoriness." [^3]: **Dhammapada:** A collection of sayings of the Buddha in verse form and one of the most widely read and best known Buddhist scriptures. (Original transcript misheard as "tamapada"). [^4]: **Suttas:** The discourses or teachings of the Buddha (Sanskrit: _Sutras_). [^5]: **Anuruddha:** One of the Buddha's top disciples, renowned for his clairvoyance and meditative vision. [^6]: **Sariputta:** One of the Buddha's two chief disciples, renowned for his wisdom. [^7]: **Arahant:** A fully awakened individual who has eradicated all defilements and will not be reborn. [^8]: **Nakulapita:** A devoted lay disciple of the Buddha, known for his deep faith and the teachings he received regarding aging and sickness. [^9]: **Bhikkhus:** Fully ordained Buddhist monks (Original transcript said "biggus", corrected to "bhikkhus"). [^10]: **Simile of the Snake Sutta (Majjhima Nikaya 22):** A famous discourse by the Buddha cautioning against the misapprehension of the teachings and the dangers of clinging to views (Original transcript said "majjima 22"). [^11]: **Sylvia Boorstein:** A contemporary American Buddhist teacher and author, co-founder of Spirit Rock Meditation Center. [^12]: **Ajahn Buddhadasa:** A famous and influential Thai Buddhist monk and ascetic philosopher of the 20th century (Original transcript misheard as "autumn budadasa" or "ajahn bhunatasa", corrected based on context).