Foreign Experiences Experiences of an English Monk               The following is a transcript of a tape-recorded speech by Mahaviro, a 28-year-old English monk, who spent two months practicing at Boonkanjanaram Meditation Center, near Pattaya City, Chonburi Province, Thailand.             Mahaviro (also known as Mr. Mike) briefly discusses the life of the Lord Buddha, and his teachings; then Mr. Mike discusses Vipassana  practice in general, followed by the results of his own practice.              Mr. Mike's story             This is the story of the Lord Buddha and his teaching, which he said we should not just blindly believe ; and the personal experiences of a foreigner in the Buddhist country of Thailand who decided to investigate these teachings and prove them for himself by becoming a monk and living in a meditation center in the central Thai province of Chonburi.             I am not going to attempt to make this a detailed biography of the Buddha, or a complete set of instructions on how to meditate, as both of these are very deep subjects. But I feel I should give a brief historical and theoretical outline of Buddhism to provide a background on which to see more clearly the description of my practice.             The Buddha was born in the 6th century B.C. , as Prince Siddhattha among the Sakiyan people, probably at their capital, which is modern day Nepal. His family name was Gautama, and he grew up amongst riches, pleasure and power. However, when he reached his early twenties he saw a sick man, an old man, a corpse, and a wandering ascetic. Because of his sheltered life, these had a deep effect on him, as he realized that no wealth or power could prevent him too from experiencing illness, old age and death.            India at that time was made up of different warrior states and the more powerful ones were constantly conquering others to make fewer, bigger states. Big cities started to appear, and a class system evolved in the new cosmopolitan environment. There were four main levels of societies; the Brahmins, who were the priests and intellectuals, the Sakyas, whose duty it was to fight and rule (this was the class of the Buddha's family), the commoners, producers and farmers, and the lowest class of the four, the servants. These all had definite functions and positions in society, but there was another set of people who didn't really fit in anywhere, the ascetics. These homeless wanderers were the center of the highly intellectual atmosphere of India at that time. There were even public debating halls where they met to discuss the many different philosophical and religious beliefs that they held. However, they all had one common goal which was Amatta, or Deathlessness, and the ending of suffering. It was because of this that the Buddha decided to join this group of people after he saw the suffering that had had such a deep effect on him.             He wandered towards the centers of population along the Ganges River, and the real contact he had with the ascetics was with two yogi meditation teachers, who taught him absorption, or Jhana  meditation. Jhana  meditation has eight levels; four rupa  (or in the fine material sphere), and four arupa  (or in the immaterial sphere). The rupa  levels begin at first one, with five perceptions: thought conceptions, discursive thinking, rapture, happiness and concentration. These five are gradually lost through the various levels of Jhana. By the 7th level arupa reaches the 'sphere of nothingness' and in the 8th and final level it is described as the sphere of 'neither perception nor non perception.' In short, the meditator sits for long periods of time and enters a trance which becomes deeper and deeper as he reaches the various levels.             The Buddha quickly became as skillful at this as his teachers; but he rejected this type of meditation. Why? Because they were temporary states which he found could still not truly end suffering. Also, he was searching for a 'self' which he still had not found. But there was still another possible way of self-realization which was practiced by some ascetics. This was self-mortification, which involved fasting to purify the soul and achieve freedom from pain. So the Buddha tried this, and the record leaves no doubt about the sincerity of his efforts. The description in the Suttapitaka say: "My spine stood out like a corded rope, my ribs projected like the jutting rafters of an old roofless cowshed, and the light of my eyes, sunk down in their sockets, looked like the gleam of water sunk in a deep well". That was all he achieved though, and as far as spiritual enlightenment was concerned, he didn't get anywhere. He broke his fast when a passing dairy maid gave him some hot milk and rice. The conclusion that he reached was that the extremes of sense pleasure and self-mortification were not the Middle Way, or in Pali, the language that he probably used, Majjhima-patipada. This involved a certain amount of self-discipline, but at the same time nourishing and keeping the body healthy, so that the mind could also be healthy and function properly and clearly.             So it was that by this Middle Way, the Buddha reached the awakening (enlightenment or Nibbana) one night of a full moon, under the huge Bodhi tree at Gaya. He discovered the Four Noble Truths. These are:             1) The truth of suffering (Dukkha-Sacca) which is that all of us, body and mind or rupa and nama (which consists of the five Aggregates: body, feeling, perception, mental formations and consciousness) are suffering, or dukkha. Without rupa and nama or the Five Aggregates, suffering cannot occur.             2) The truth of the cause of suffering (Samudaya-Sacca) , which is craving, or desire (tanha).             3) The truth of the ending or extinction of suffering (Nirodha-Sacca). And finally,             4) The path or way to the end of suffering, which is the Eight-Fold Path (Magga-Sacca).             The Four Noble Truths are more fully explained in a book, Vipassana Bhavana, published by Boonkanjanaram Meditation Center in Chonburi, Thailand. In England, copies can be obtained at Wat Amarawadi (a Thai Buddhist temple) in the county of Hertfordshire.             The Buddha also came to the conclusion that there is no permanent self, and that all compound things are impermanent suffering and without self. He then taught for forty-five years and founded the order of monks. When he died (Parinibbana is the special Pali word to describe the death of a fully-enlightened one), he died of mortal causes like anybody else; but he was not reborn, because he had reached Nibbana.             So, where is the evidence to prove this story of a man who lived over two and a half thousand years ago? Well, all the information that we have comes from a work of literature that, in its original form, would fill several library shelves, the Tripitaka.---''Tri', or 'three', 'Pitaka', or 'baskets' ---- the Three Baskets: Vinayapitaka, or basket of the disciplinary Code, which includes the 227 rules for monks; Sut-tapitaka, or basket of discourses, which covers the story of the Buddha's life and the various conversations he had with different people, and Abidhammapitaka, or the basket of Higher Doctrine, which is Pure Philosophy.             But this was not written down until three or four hundred years after the Buddha's death. Until it was written down it was verbally chanted, and so memorized by the monks, who held five great councils to discuss and check the teachings. The first of these councils was held three months after Parinibbana and lasted for seven months. There was almost certainly another one a hundred years later, and at the 5th council, the monks wrote it all down on pages of palm leaf, which lasts for a long time.             So, after that rough outline of the life of the Buddha, my life story is going to sound rather insignificant, but I will tell you a little about myself, just to make the whole picture more complete. When I left school, I wanted to be a farmer. I had a romantic vision of a life close to nature and earth, walking about on my farm or driving a tractor, providing food for a grateful population, who would pay me money to live a comfortable and healthy life. However,I soon discovered that working on farms was always outside, whatever the weather - snow, rain or hot sun; that it gave me blisters on my hands and very little money, which I was too tired to spend in the little spare time that I had - certainly not enough money to save up and buy my own farm. In fact you could say that I discovered the First Noble Truth of suffering in my own little way. But it could not have been so bad, because I worked and studied in different areas of agriculture and horticulture for seven years until I was twenty-five. Then I wanted to travel and see a really different culture outside of Europe for the experience, while I was still young. I heard about a volunteer organization called V.S.O. that sends people with technical skills overseas to different countries around the world; so I applied to them for work. When they telephoned and asked if I wanted to go to Thailand, I could not decide, as I knew so little about the place - even where it was. I had an idea that Thai people ate rice, there was a film about the country called "The King and I" , and Siamese cats came from there. But then I thought that, if I did not go, I would probably miss a wonderful opportunity. So, I arrived in the middle of the floods of the 1983 rainy season, and went straight to Pakchong, Nakornrachasima, for a Thai language course. Then I came to work as a teacher at Chonburi Agricultural College for two years.             Every chance that I had, I traveled around the country to see Thai culture and festivals like Songkran and Loi Krathong. I was impressed by how important religion is for Thai people and the way they support the monks. I saw how even the poorest people put food in their alms bowl in the morning. One of the most common Thai expressions is "Mai pen rai' or "Never mind", and this is used whenever a problem (even one that would seem quite serious to me) comes along. So, thinking that there must be a strong connection between the religion and the natural character, I became interested in Buddhism, reading books and talking to Thai friends about it. Then I heard that there was a temple in the North-East where there are many Western monks and the teaching is in English. So after thinking long and hard about this, I decided to ordain for a while, to challenge what the Buddha said; "See for yourself, prove, but don't just blindly believe". I met an American Peace Corps volunteer who had just come from that temple, Wat Ba Na Na Chat in Ubon(Province), and he told me that you must be a layman for four months before you could ordain. At about the same time, a teacher at the college introduced me to his uncle who is the head monk at this meditation center, and as it is in an area I know, with friends nearby, it seemed a better idea to ordain to be a monk here. So here I am; I have been here for two months, learning the theory and practice of Vipassana, constantly, day and night. I have really been very lucky, as all the circumstances have been in my favor. A lesson every day with Mr. Chua, my teacher, Mr. Frank Tullius who has been practicing here for three years and Miss Vitoon, teacher and translator. Another monk, Phra Thamarakita has been teaching me the Patimoke rules of discipline. All of them were students of the Late Aachan Naeb, a widely-known expert on Abhidhamma and teacher, who developed the practice. Also Mr. Chua, Mr. Frank Tullius and Miss Vitoon recently wrote a book in English, Vipassana Bhavana,about the theory, practice and result of Vipassana, based on the teaching of Mr. Chua, translated by Miss Vitoon and English finally double-checked by Mr. Frank Tullius.             At the center, the method of meditation is based on the Mahasatipatthana Discourse, on the Foundations of Mindfulness, a very long and important discourse from the Suttapitaka. These foundations of mindfulness consist of four main objects, which the practitioner can meditate on. These four are; Body (Kaya), Feeling (Vedana), Mind (Citta), and Mind and Body (Dhamma). Which object to use depends on the practitioner's character, and these are classified into four types. However, Aachan Naeb said that in these modern times of materialism, everybody now has tanha (craving) with weak wisdom. So, at this center, we only observe Kaya, because it is easy to see. The Pali word for material objects and the body, is rupa and the mind is called nama. We can say that a person has nama or that which knows, and rupa, or that which is known. The practice is to observe rupa all the time in the present moment. There are four major positions, hence: sitting rupa, standing rupa, walking rupa and lying rupa; and also some minor positions, which can be used later. It is not deep concentration or going into a trance, or anything mystical like that, but just nama being mindful of rupa - observing rupa, but not making any special effort to control it. It is like watching an actor in a play. You watch the play and nothing else. Only the stage lights are on and the rest of the theatre is in darkness, but you cannot control what the actor is doing. Of course, if you watch a play, there are always things which take your attention away from the action on the stage. For Example, the person next to you might open a bag of sweets noisily. Well, it's just the same in practice; a dog barks or a monk in bright orange robes walks past, or your mind just wanders off to another story. If you just know these things happen without getting too involved in them, they should just go away, and nama will just naturally come back to the object. So, if a dog barks, just know 'nama hearing' and come back. Or if you start thinking about a friend of yours, or a film you once saw, just know 'nama wandering', and back you will come if you don't follow the story.             So far I have described the method of this kind of meditation and it is easy enough to understand in theory, if not so easy in practice at first. But the reason for practicing like this is to see sabhava, or ultimate reality, the truth which is that you, or what you call 'me' is not 'me' , but just rupa and nama, body and mind. Ultimately, there is no man or woman, child or self. Now, this is where you think I've gone mad and stop reading, and I'll admit that it's not a very satisfactory explanation, but its just one of those things that words can't explain with much success. My teacher told me this on my first day here, and I was very doubtful, but now that I have followed the practice, I can understand what he was talking about much better. The best I can do is to describe my practice, and some of the things that happened, and then you can decide for yourself whether or not you want to prove it for yourself. The Buddha said that it was most important that nobody believed blindly what they were told, without proving it for themselves first. He said "Know not by hearsay, nor by tradition, nor by indulgence in speculation, nor because you honour the word of an ascetic, but know for yourself". It would be impossible to explain, say, the taste of sugar to someone who had never tasted sweetness before. You can give him or her some sugar, just like a teacher can show someone how to practice vipassana, and when they have tasted the sugar, they don't need you anymore. They know for themselves the concept of sweetness.             Another important reason for practicing is to properly see the three characteristics. These are that all compound things are:             1) impermanent,             2) suffering, and             3) without self.             Normally, it is only necessary to see just one of these in the practice to realize all three. For example, if you can see that sitting rupa gets stiff and has to change to walking rupa, you might see that sitting rupa is suffering, or unsatisfactory, because it is impermanent - and therefore that there is no self which can control the situation and enable rupa to continue sitting there all day. Incidentally, you might be thinking that amongst all this talk of no self, I am using phrases like 'I did this' or 'I did that'. But without these word 'I' and 'me' it would be difficult to communicate, unless a new word for 'I' was invented like the one which Buddhist monks use. They say 'Attamah' which means, 'This so-called self'.             Also, we must try to destroy kilesa in our practice. Kilesa means defilements: Ignorance, Greed and Hate, which come in many different forms and disguises and always do their best to cover up the truth in all situations. It's rather like a court of law where there is a judge, defendant and prosecutor, The judge must always stay neutral - he must never be affected by like and dislike for anybody that he is judging. So that if, say, his sister knows the defendant, his decisions may be affected by like and the truth will not come out.             So, by practicing sense restraint and trying to stay in the present moment as mush as possible we can reduce like and dislike to a minimum and hopefully see sabhava, the truth. But 'hopefully', perhaps, is not a good word, as desiring to see this sabhava, is just another form of 'like'; or if our mind wanders off to some other story and we don't like it, that will effect the practice too.             So although the practice here is just observing the body, which sounds easy, it can be seen that it's not easy and that one really needs a teacher.             Anyway, I will tell you how I found the practice, and some of the things that happened during the two months that I was here.             The practice here is constant; all waking hours of the day and night you are observing rupa in the four major positions and the minor positions. So you just try to practice naturally. It's not necessary to stay in one position for a long time - this would be unnatural. For example, you may be sitting on a chair or the floor and you find that your body gets stiff and you are forced to change. So you get up and go for a walk. After a while your legs get stiff or tired from walking, so you have to go and lie down. I would like to stress this having to lie down, because in everyday life - say, we are walking - we think "it would be nice to sit down on this seat for a rest." So the action is carried out to seek pleasure - or is it? In this practice, it is important to try and "Yoniso" or understand the reason why you are changing the position of your body, which is because your body is forced to go for a walk to stretch the legs. Then from walking, the body gets tired - it's suffering or unsatisfactory - dukkha - and it's forced to go and lie down. If you understand this properly, it's yoniso , and the practice is right.             I had been doing this practice for about three weeks and nothing was really happening. I still couldn't really understand the practice. I was getting all the theory and the practice of Vipassana from the teacher, so I understood the theory, but I still couldn't really grasp the meaning of what he was talking about. It was a bit like someone telling me about the taste of sugar, without having actually tasted the sugar for myself. Then on the 21st of January (1986) I was just observing rupa, or the body, as usual and I realized that I was always having to change the position of my body. I realized that I wasn't lying down for pleasure; I wasn't going for a walk for pleasure. I realized rather that my body was forced to change position all the time. It was like seeing the truth of suffering for the first time and I became very depressed, because I had not realized this aspect of change before. But when I observed this all the time and the truth was not covered up by kilesa  (defilements) and seeking happiness all the time, I did see this truth, that every thing I did was subject to the law of change - every position that my body is in eventually suffers - it's impermanent. I can't sit down in a chair for two hours without changing position, even if it's a very comfortable chair. Even lying down - when observing lying-rupa , the body can't stay in one position for long - I had to change the position eventually.             The next day, 22nd of January, I was observing sitting rupa in a chair, and was fairly well in the present moment. Then the body position changed from sitting rupa to standing rupa. It was forced to get up because it was stiff. I suddenly had a bad shock, a sudden feeling that it was not 'me' that was changing position. It was like watching a doll, or something that wasn't me getting up and changing to a standing position It was a bit like being on the outside of my body and watching somebody else's body getting up. It was a very strong feeling of not being myself. Everything that my teacher was talking about before,that this is not 'us', not me, just rupa, made much more sense.             Then on the 4th of February, I suddenly had another similar horrible sinking feeling, like falling into a big hole, or like the feeling I have had in a bad dream when I suddenly fell off a cliff and my stomach sank - a strong feeling. It was similar to the one before, but much stronger and this time it didn't really feel like it was not my body - not the same - it was just a very strong feeling that I couldn't explain. Before, I felt safe and generally secure about my existence in the world; suddenly this safe, secure world crumbled and I felt very scared. The feeling only lasted for a split second, but it was so strong that I'm sure that I'll never forget it. The next day, I came to the lesson as usual and told the teacher about this experience and he explained that it was seeing the sabhava (truth) that this time, nama is not seeing the 'us' (last time it was rupa that was not 'us'). The reason I didn't know what was happening at the time was because, up to now I had just been observing rupa, not nama (or very little nama). Before,if say, a dog barked, I would just know 'nama hearing', but only out of necessity, if something happened to take me out of the present moment of rupa.             The next day, I was on alms round - begging food in the early morning with another monk, and this time I had a feeling that wasn't so strong, but just that my body that was walking with the alms bowl really wasn't me - like watching an actor on a stage in a play, someone I had no control over. This wasn't such a shock as before; it was just a feeling that "that's the truth".             On the 9th of February, I made a very big effort with the practice, always trying too hard to be in the present moment observing the four positions. I had been trying too hard for two days and nothing was happening. This was desire to see sabhava - I wanted to see something happen again, so obviously there were no results. I had a headache after all this effort, so I decided to go and lie down (or looking at it the other way, rupa was forced to go and lie down.) At this time, around six in the evening, the water in the meditation center had been running for about half an hour - there was the constant sound of water running into the water pot in my little house. At that moment when I went to lie down, the meditation center staff turned the water supply off, so that the noise of water splashing into the pot went away and there was absolute, early-evening silence. The sun was setting and I could see silhouettes of coconut palms against a brilliant orange sky, through the insect screens.             Then, as I was in the process of lying down, a drip of water came out of the tap with a 'plop' into the full pot, and suddenly I had a feeling like a big electric shock. This time I immediately knew that "This is not me hearing this drip". It really took me by surprise as I just was not prepared for it. It was nama-hearing, some impersonal mind, not 'me' hearing. This time I didn't feel down or strange about it afterwards: I was back to normal very quickly, because now I knew the face of sabhava. I could immediately understand what had happened, that it was nama-hearing, and not 'me' that heard the drip.             Several times after that when I was walking around the house I felt like I was truly in the present moment. Normally, and especially outside of being mindful in meditation, my mind is constantly wandering off from the future to the past and back again, making comparisons and relating to thoughts outside of the reality of now. But at that time, concentrating on the present position of the body in motion, a moment would arrive that I could "fix" on like a photograph. Then in another step I would be aware of leaving that moment behind, spent, only to replaced by a completely new moment with another "walking rupa". This was different to my normal perception of walking, or any movement, in its being like a continuous film, a movie which looks continuous, but in reality is made up of many separate still pictures; and it was like seeing these individual still pictures falling away. A bit like being on a ship and dropping a piece of wood off the side. When the wood is in your hand it is very real, but when you drop it off the side of the ship, you watch it go away and see it floating in the water, but it's somehow not real anymore. This piece of wood seems a bit like the present moment; when it becomes past, it is lost, and this is happing constantly.             The last time that something worth mentioning happened during the practice was the 26th of February (only three days ago). I was lying in bed and it was about 11.00 p.m. Now, in only one day's time from this particular day, I was to disrobe and finish being a monk, so you can imagine that my head was full of ideas of what I was going to do when I get back to England, after two-and-half years of being away from home - a lot of distractions to take me away from the practice. I was trying to get to sleep, and started to do the practice as somebody had told me that it was a good way to go to sleep, a bit like counting sheep. So nama was observing 'rupa lying' and then, as a cricket made a noise outside the house, attention changed to 'nama hearing' and then back to "rupa lying". Then I had wandering mind - mind was distracted away from rupa lying and it came up to the building where the lessons were held every day. I thought of all the different faces of the people who went to that building - the teacher, Mr. Chua, Miss Vitoon and Mr. Frank. I knew this was wandering mind, and it just registered, so back it came to rupa lying. But this time, when I wanted to come back I somehow couldn't get back to any kind of "me" lying on the bed. It was there on the bed, but it was just a body, maybe a dead body, or a doll dressed up in monk's robes, but it certainly was not me - that was the point, and what was so very frightening. It was again like a big jump. I couldn't remember what my face was like, there, like a victim of a road accident who suffers short term loss of memory from a knock on the head.             This time I felt I could explain what had happened a little better. I think that kilesa , which is the defilements (hate, greed and delusion) which normally cover up and make up our characters so strongly, was sad and weakened. It got broken down by the practice. It could not cover up the truth anymore. It lost it's grip and the real truth was laid bare I saw 'sabhava' , the truth of non-self, and kilesa  was very much weakened for just that split-second. I think that if that had happened in normal life it would have had a more profound effect, but as it was I knew that this happened because of the practice. I'd got used to these weird things happening by this time and I started to try to get back to sleep again. But then an hour later at midnight, something else happened. I was just drifting off to sleep in that state of half sleep half wakefulness - not quite asleep and in a kind of daydream. In the dream I was looking in a mirror, but suddenly realized that the face that was looking back at me from the mirror wasn't my face at all; it was a face of a Thai monk. The features were basically the same, those, of young man, but as my vision in the dream became clearer I saw that the skin was a bit darker and the eyes looked Oriental. So it was a big shock, as this dream felt very real - as dreams often do - and it made me jump again. I didn't want to continue looking at the face, but it was as though someone was holding my head to prevent me from looking away. I woke up, feeling very shaken. I didn't know if it was worth mentioning, but I did. The teacher's interpretation of this dream was that this experience was not Vipassana wisdom, because to see ultimate reality (sabhava) you have to have perfect sati-sampajanna and that's not possible in a dream state.             So, that ends the story of my practice, and now I would like to say a final word about Buddhism and cover some important questions.             Firstly, what is Buddhism?             Buddhism can be defined into two ways;-             First, the true state of the nature of the world, that everything is:             1) Mind, or mental states - which can be defined as mental states (citta), which are composed of mental properties (cetasika).             2) Matter or form, which is rupa, and             3) Nibbana.             These 3 things are called ultimate reality.             The second way to define Buddhism is as the teachings of the Buddha. This teaching covers a wide variety of subjects and is contained in the sermons of the Buddha, preached over a period of forty-five years. Its eventual message is that suffering can be ended by realizing the ultimate reality that I have just described, ending with nibbana.             The next question is, "Where is Buddhism?"             Buddhism is not in the image of the Buddha. It's not in a beautiful temple. It's just in the one who knows how to practice and realize dhamma.             What benefit do you gain from Buddhism?             The Lord Buddha's teachings are beneficial in three ways: for this life, for the next life and for realizing ultimate reality as previously mentioned.The realization of this is the highest good, which is called Nibbana.             How can Buddhism be maintained?             The only way to maintain Buddhism is to practice and follow the Eight-Fold-Path, which is morality (sila), concentration (samadhi), and wisdom (panna). If Buddhism is not practiced in this way, it will decline and eventually perish.             Another important question, and one that many Westerner's ask is, "Isn't Buddhism rather pessimistic?" Well, this is said because the Three Characteristics that Buddhists talk about, namely that everything is impermanent, suffering and without self, it may sound pessimistic, but unfortunately it's the truth. We are always suffering; even if we blink our eyes we are curing suffering, eating food is curing suffering; so if facing the truth is pessimistic, well, Buddhism is pessimistic but it is the truth.             Also, if people find dissatisfaction and suffering in life, Buddhism offers an answer to this, a way of doing something about this condition - and realizing The Three Characteristics, pessimistic or not, provide this way.             Another reason why Buddhism is not as pessimistic as it looks is that it offers Nibbana which is the ultimate happiness, the curing of all suffering.             A common belief among Westerners is that Buddhism is a selfish kind of philosophy because the practitioner seems to concentrate on himself - for self-purification. Well firstly, it appears so on the surface. But Buddhist insight and wisdom must be realized by observing one's own rupa and nama. This is the only way. You have to see the truth in yourself first, and then the truth in everything else will be seen; but only after you have looked at the example of your own body and mind.             Secondly, it's not selfish, because the formalization of higher states thorough self-purification by a yogi is often a source of great comfort and satisfaction to many ordinary people who aspire to be free from suffering. So that if somebody thinks that there is no answer to his problems, they might see someone who has cured suffering, and this could be a great comfort to them.             Taking this point of people who cure suffering to the ultimate extreme, somebody who does reach Nibbana is called a Noble One (Ariya), and a Noble One does not have to go through life giving obvious help to other people - like, for instance, getting involved in charity work. Just the example of his or her attainment is sufficient to inspire other people to cure suffering themselves. Such a person is really harmless. He has completely extinguished desire. And, as far as selfishness goes, what is the definition of selfishness? It's very much tied up with desire. So if you have extinguished desire, you are not selfish by definition.             That concludes my discussion of Buddhism and my experiences in daily Buddhist practice, so now I will say goodbye to you with the hope that someday, you also will practice insight meditation and see the true state of the nature of the world (sabhava) - only body and mind - as I have.              Commentary (Frank Tullius)             There are two things worthy of comment in Mr. Mike's story.             One has to do with the correct way of reaching ultimate reality (sabhava-dhamma), which is a momentary glimpse of the true state of the nature of body and mind.             And the second has to do with the result - the importance of seeing ultimate reality.             Referring to item one we see that Mike's various experiences of insight were accompanied by strong feelings of a negative nature - that is to say unpleasantness (dukkha).             Insight seen by concentration (samadhi) will not do this. True insight, that changes wrong view, will always be accompanied by negative feelings - of loss, fear, or at least some kind of shock that says something important has been revealed: the truth of ultimate reality.             Referring to the second item, regarding the importance of ultimate reality (that is to say, the first Knowledge, called mind-matter determination), it is the belief of this practice, that unless the meditator realizes the true nature of body and mind with insight, he will be practicing with self or ego in mind rather than realizing the truth that 'we' don't practice - only earnestness, mindfulness and clear comprehension practice (atapi,sati,sampajanna).             The path to end suffering cannot be reached unless the notion of 'we' practicing is erased and is replaced by purity of view (ditthi visuddhi). When this is realized one no longer needs a teacher. Body and mind (nama-rupa) become the teacher.