Living with Original Mind (dispelling the illusion of "I")
In Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind, Shunryu Suzuki says that during zazen, we can “resume our pure original state.”[1] Suzuki lists several terms for this original state. The term that stands out for me is “original mind,” for it is also used by Ajahn Chah, a teacher whose talks, collected in Food for the Heart, have been of very great value to me in my own spiritual practice. Ajahn Chah, now deceased, was the principle teacher of Jack Kornfield, who spent many years studying with him in Thailand. Ajahn Chah says of the mindfulness training in which he instructs his students, “Our practice is simply to see the ‘Original Mind.’” [2]
Ajahn Chah says that we are neither body nor mind. It is rather easy to see that our body is not us; unaided, we have no control over its ailments, aging, and death. That our mind is not us is harder to see. Ajahn Chah says that if we are not misled by the contents of our mind, our mind is in reality “Original Mind,” which is always serene and peaceful. If we can discover this Mind and live with it daily, we have accomplished our spiritual quest. He says, “The serene and peaceful mind is the true epitome of human achievement.” [3]
We are misled by our mental contents because we suppose that they constitute the sense of “I” that we carry around with us. So when we are angry, we say, “I am angry,” and similarly we say, “I am sad, I am happy, I am frustrated,” and so on. In reality, according to both Shunryu Suzuki and Ajahn Chah, there is no “I” that warrants grasping onto mental contents. Suzuki Roshi says, “According to the traditional Buddhist understanding, our human nature is without ego.”[4] And Ajahn Chah says flatly, “There is no I.”[5] With the delusion of having an “I” dispelled, we realize that we are, in Suzuki Roshi’s words, “Buddha nature,” and in Ajahn Chah’s, “Original Mind.”
So how is the delusion of “I” dispelled? Ajahn Chah requires of his students a mindfulness exercise in which they make certain observations about whatever comes into the mind. Outside of sleep, moods, thoughts, fantasies, plans, worries, and so on pass through the mind all day in practically a steady flow. Amusingly, Ajahn Chah likens this situation to sitting under a tree of ripe mangoes, with the fruit dropping at unpredictable times.
To whatever comes into the mind, Ajahn Chah asks his students to apply three observations: 1) the item is temporary, impermanent; 2) it causes dissatisfaction or suffering; and 3) it has the character of “non-self” in so far as the mind did not cause it to be there. In explaining this exercise further, I am going to focus only on the third observation, “non-self,” which was most helpful to me. About any mood, thought, etc. that one notices in the mind, one can ask the question, “Did I ask that to be there?” That is, prior to its appearance in the mind, did I ask for it to arise? The answer will always be “no.” Whatever comes into the mind comes there of itself. To return to the mangos analogy, it is as though, as Ajahn Chah says, “Someone else has climbed up the mango tree and is shaking the branches to make the mangoes fall down to us.”[6] We don’t make the mangoes fall.
When the person doing this mindfulness practice clearly sees that he has no control over what comes into his mind, he drops the feeling that he is his own mind. He then regards his mind to be like “a child who likes to play and frolic.” Ajahn Chah says, “Thinking and feeling will still be there, but that very thinking and feeling will be deprived of power.” The practitioner, detached from his mind, no longer thinks, “I am depressed, I am anxious, I am happy,” and so on, but that these feelings are simply his wayward mind operating on its own. At this point, the practitioner’s sense of “I” has been dropped and his “troubles are over.”[7] He has discovered the serenity and peace of his “Original Mind.”
A person might keep in mind that spiritual progress is always by degrees and may not result in a grand culmination. The mindfulness exercise proposed by Ajahn Chah can be performed by anyone inside or outside of a monastery. Both within meditation and for the hours outside of it, when the person becomes aware of something in his mind, he can ask, “Did I ask for that to be there?” When he sees that he did not summon the thing up himself, he can silently say, “no ownership,” to seal the observation. Bit by bit, he will become detached from his mind and experience greater peace in his life. So the exercise is worth it if one wants to try.
Footnotes
- Shunryu Suzuki, Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind, New York, 1970, p. 129.
- Ajahn Chah, Food for the Heart, Boston, 2002, p. 41.
- Ajahn Chah, p. 64.
- Shunryu Suzuki, p. 100.
- Ajahn Chah, p. 138.
- Ajahn Chah, p. 195
- Ajahn Chah, p. 157.