This book is an introduction to the Buddhist practice of training the
  heart. It is taken from the talks of Phra Ajaan Lee Dhammadharo, a
  teacher in the Thai forest tradition of meditation, and is called
  //Food for Thought// because it invites the reader to fill in the
  spaces suggested by the talks -- to reflect on how the images and
  teachings they contain relate to one another and to one's own
  situation in life.

    Two of the talks included here, 'Quiet Breathing' and 'Centered
  Within', briefly describe a technique of breath meditation aimed at
  giving rise to a centered and discerning state of mind. The rest of
  the talks deal with how to use such a state of mind in dealing with
  the problems of life: the day-to-day problems of anger, anxiety,
  disappointment, etc., and the larger problems of ageing, illness, and
  death.

    In other words, this is a book concerned less with the techniques of
  meditation than with its meaning and worth: the questions of why
  should one train the heart to begin with, what personal qualities are
  involved in its training, and how to make the best use of it as it
  becomes trained. Readers interested in more detailed instructions in
  the techniques of formal meditation can find them in Ajaan Lee's other
  books -- especially //Keeping the Breath in Mind// and //Inner
  Strength// -- although it is wise to reflect on the sorts of questions
  raised by this book before actually sitting down to the practice.

    The talks translated here are actually reconstructions of Ajaan
  Lee's talks made by two of his followers -- a nun, Arun Abhivanna, and
  a monk, Phra Bunkuu Anuvaddhano -- based on notes they made while
  listening to him teach. Some of the reconstructions are fairly
  fragmentary and disjointed, and in presenting them here I have had to
  edit them somewhat, cutting extraneous passages, expanding on
  shorthand references to points of formal doctrine, and filling in gaps
  by collating passages from different talks dealing with the same
  topic. Aside from changes of this sort, though, I have tried my best
  to convey both the letter and spirit of Ajaan Lee's message.

    I have also tried to keep the use of Pali words in the translation
  to a minimum. In all cases where English equivalents have been
  substituted for Pali terms, I have chosen to convey the meanings Ajaan
  Lee gives to these terms in his writings, even when this has meant
  departing from the interpretations given to these terms by scholars. A
  few Pali terms, though, have no adequate English equivalents, so here
  is a brief glossary of the ones left untranslated or unexplained in
  this book:

  ARAHANT: A person who has gained liberation from mental defilement and
        the cycle of death and rebirth.

  BRAHMA: An inhabitant of the heavens of form and formlessness
        corresponding to the levels of meditative absorption in physical
        and non-physical objects.

  BUDDHO: Awake; enlightened. An epithet of the Buddha.

  DHAMMA (DHARMA): The truth in and of itself; the right natural order
        of things. Also, the Buddha's teachings on these topics and the
        practice of those teachings aimed at realizing the true nature
        of the mind in and of itself.

  KAMMA (KARMA): Intentional acts, which create good or bad results in
        accordance with the quality of the intention. Kamma debts are
        the moral debts one owes to others for having caused them
        hardships or difficulties.

  NIBBANA (NIRVANA): Liberation; the unbinding of the mind from mental
        defilement and the cycle of death and rebirth. As this term
        refers also to the extinguishing of fire, it carries
        connotations of stilling, cooling and peace. (According to the
        physics taught at the time of the Buddha, a burning fire seizes
        or adheres to its fuel; when extinguished, it is unbound.)

  SANGHA: The followers of the Buddha who have practiced his teachings
        at least to the point of gaining entry to the stream to
        Liberation. To take refuge in the Buddha, Dhamma, and Sangha
        means to take them as the guide in one's search for happiness
        and to make the effort to give rise to their qualities within
        oneself.

                                *  *  *
 

  My hope is that the teachings in this book will serve as more than
  just food for thought, and that they will inspire the reader to search
  for the inner worth and happiness that come with the practice of
  training the heart.

                                        Thanissaro Bhikkhu
                                        (Geoffrey DeGraff)

  January, 1989
 

                            * * * * * * * *
 

                          TAKING THE LONG VIEW
                             August 4, 1957
 

  Most of us tend to concern ourselves only with short, small, and
  narrow things. For instance, we think that there isn't much to human
  life -- we're born and then we die -- so we pay attention only to our
  stomachs and appetites. There's hardly anyone who thinks further than
  that, who thinks out past death. This is why we're short-sighted and
  don't think of developing any goodness or virtues within ourselves,
  because we don't see the truth and the extremely important benefits
  we'll gain from these things in the future.

    Actually, the affairs of each person are really long and drawn out,
  and not at all short. If they were short, we'd all know where we came
  from and how we got where we are. The same would hold true for the
  future: If our affairs were really a short story, we'd know where
  we're going and what we'll be after death.

    But the truth of the matter is that almost no one knows these things
  about themselves. The only ones who do know are those whose minds are
  strong in goodness and virtue, and who have developed purity to the
  point where they gain the intuitive understanding that enables them to
  see where they've come from and where they're going. These people have
  the inner eye, which is why they are able to see things past and
  future. Sometimes they can see not only their own, but also other
  people's affairs. This is what makes them realize the hardships and
  difficulties suffered by human beings and other living beings born
  into this world. They see the cycle of birth, ageing, illness, and
  death. They see their past lives, both good and bad, and this makes
  them feel a sense of dismay and dispassion, disenchanted with the idea
  of ever being born again. As a result, they try to develop their
  goodness and virtues even further so that they can reduce the number
  of times they'll have to be reborn. For example, Stream-enterers --
  those who have entered the stream to Liberation (nibbana) -- will be
  reborn at most only seven more times and then will never have to be
  reborn again. Once-returners will be reborn in the human world only
  once more, while Non-returners will be reborn in the Brahma worlds and
  gain Liberation there.

    As for Stream-enterers, even though they have to be reborn, they're
  reborn in secure places. They aren't reborn in states of deprivation,
  such as the realms of hungry shades, angry demons, or common animals.
  They're reborn as human beings, but as special human beings, not like
  the rest of us. How are they special? They have few defilements in
  their hearts, not thick defilements like ordinary people. They have a
  built-in sense of conscience and scrupulousness. Even though they may
  do wrong from time to time, they see the damage it does and feel a
  sense of shame, so that they won't want their various defilements to
  lead them into doing wrong ever again.

    People disenchanted with rebirth make an extra effort to build up
  their virtues so that they won't have to come back and be reborn. If
  you want to cut down the number of times you'll take rebirth, you
  should steadily increase your inner quality and worth. In other words,
  make your heart clean and bright with generosity, moral virtue, and
  meditation. Keep your thoughts, words, and deeds at equilibrium,
  secluded from evil both inside and out. If you have no vices in word
  and deed, that's called being secluded from outside evil. If your mind
  is firmly centered in concentration and free from obstructing
  distractions, that's called being secluded from inside evil. This way
  you can be at peace and at ease both within and without. As the Buddha
  said, 'Happy is the person content in seclusion.'

    When this kind of seclusion arises in the mind, all sorts of
  worthwhile qualities will come flowing in without stop. The heart will
  keep growing higher and higher, until it no longer wants anything at
  all. If you used to eat a lot, you won't want to eat a lot. If you
  used to eat in moderation, there'll be times when you won't want to
  eat at all. If you used to talk a lot, you won't want to talk a lot.
  If you used to sleep a lot, you'll want to sleep only a little.
  However you live, the heart will be entirely happy, with no more
  danger to fear from anyone. This is how you cut down the number of
  times you'll take rebirth.

                                *  *  *

  If you see any areas in which you're still lacking in inner worth, you
  should try to fill in the lack right away. Be steady in your practice
  of meditation and make your mind clear, free from the distractions
  that will drag it down into the dirt. Dirt is where animals live --
  pigs, dogs, ducks, chickens, and cows. It's no place for human beings.
  If you're really a human being, you have to like living in clean
  places, free from danger and germs. This is why the Buddha praised
  seclusion as the well-spring of happiness. So try to find a secluded
  spot for yourself to stay within the mind, secluded from hindering
  distractions. Make your mind as bright as a jewel, and don't let
  temptation come along and try to trade garbage for the good things
  you've got. You have to be mindful at all times, so don't let yourself
  be absent-minded or forgetful.

                                *  *  *

  If your mind doesn't stay with your body in the present, all sorts of
  evil things -- all sorts of distractions -- will come flowing in to
  overwhelm it, making it fall away from its inner worth, just as a
  vacant house is sure to become a nest of spiders, termites, and all
  sorts of animals. If you keep your mind firmly with the body in the
  present, you'll be safe. Like a person on a big ship in the middle of
  a smooth sea free from wind and waves: Everywhere you look is clear
  and wide open. You can see far. Your eyes are quiet with regard to
  sights, your ears quiet with regard to sounds, and so on with your
  other senses. Your mind is quiet with regard to thoughts of
  sensuality, ill will, and harm. The mind is in a state of seclusion,
  calm and at peace. This is where we'll let go of our sense of 'me' and
  'mine', and reach the further shore, free from constraints and bonds.

                            * * * * * * * *
 
 

                           AN INNER MAINSTAY
                            August 28, 1957

  Normally, our hearts can hardly ever sit still. They have to think
  about all kinds of thoughts and ideas, both good and bad. When good
  things happen, we keep them to think about. When bad things happen, we
  keep them to think about. When we succeed or fail at anything, we keep
  it to think about. This shows how impoverished the mind is. When it
  thinks about things it likes, it develops sensual craving. When it
  thinks about things that are possible, it develops craving for
  possibilities. When it thinks about things that are impossible, it
  develops craving for impossibilities, all without our realizing it.
  This is called unawareness. It's because of this unawareness that we
  have thoughts, judgments, and worries that form the well-spring for
  likes, dislikes, and attachments.

    Sometimes the things we think about can come true in line with our
  thoughts; sometimes they can't. While there's at least //some// use in
  thinking about things that are possible, we like to go to the effort
  of thinking about things that are out of the question. I.e., when
  certain things are no longer possible, we still hold onto them to the
  point where we feel mistreated or depressed. We keep trying to get
  results out of things that can no longer be. When our hopes aren't
  satisfied, we latch onto our dissatisfaction; when they //are//
  satisfied, we latch onto our satisfaction. This gives rise to likes
  and dislikes. We latch onto thoughts of the future and thoughts of the
  past. Most of us, when we succeed at something, latch onto our
  happiness. When we don't succeed, we latch onto our disappointment.
  Sometimes we latch onto things that are good -- although latching onto
  goodness leaves us //some// way to crawl along. Sometimes we actually
  latch onto things that are clearly bad.

    This is what made the Buddha feel such pity for us human beings. In
  what way? He pitied our stupidity in not understanding what suffering
  is. We know that red ants can really hurt when they bite us, yet we go
  stick our heads in a red ant nest and then sit around in pain and
  torment. What good do we get out of it?

    When we see good or bad sights with our eyes, we latch onto them.
  When we hear good or bad sounds with our ears, we latch onto them.
  When we smell good or bad odors, taste good or bad flavors, feel good
  or bad sensations, or think good or bad thoughts, we latch onto them
  -- so we end up all encumbered with sights dangling from our eyes,
  sounds dangling from both of our ears, odors dangling from the tip of
  our nose, flavors dangling from the tip of our tongue, tactile
  sensations dangling all over our body, and thoughts dangling from our
  mind. This way, sights are sure to close off our eyes, sounds close
  off our ears, odors close off our nostrils, flavors close off our
  tongue, tactile sensations close off our body, and thoughts close off
  our mind. When our senses are completely closed off in this way, we're
  in the dark -- the darkness of unawareness -- groping around without
  finding the right way, unable to go any way at all. Our body is
  weighed down and our mind is dark.  This is called harming yourself,
  killing yourself, destroying your own chances for progress.

    Thoughts are addictive, and especially when they're about things
  that are bad. We remember them long and think of them often. This is
  delusion, one of the camp-followers of unawareness. For this reason,
  we have to drive this kind of delusion from our hearts by making
  ourselves mindful and self-aware, fully alert with each in-and-out
  breath. This is what awareness comes from. When awareness arises,
  discernment arises as well. If awareness doesn't arise, how will we be
  able to get rid of craving? When awareness arises, craving for
  sensuality, craving for possibilities, and craving for impossibilities
  will all stop, and attachment won't exist. This is the way of the
  Noble Path.

    Most of us tend to flow along in the direction of what's bad more
  than in the direction of what's good. When people try to convince us
  to do good, they have to give us lots of reasons, and even then we
  hardly budge. But if they try to talk us into doing bad, all they have
  to do is say one or two words and we're already running with them.
  This is why the Buddha said, 'People are foolish. They like to feed on
  bad preoccupations.' And that's not all. We even feed on things that
  have no truth to them at all. We can't be bothered with thinking about
  good things, but we like to keep clambering after bad things, trying
  to remember them and keep them in mind. We don't get to eat any meat
  or sit on any skin, and yet we choke on the bones.

    'We don't get to eat any meat:' This means that we gather up
  imaginary things to think about, but they don't bring us any 
  happiness. A person who opens his mouth to put food in it at least
  gets something to fill up his stomach, but a person who clambers
  around with his mouth open, craning his neck to swallow nothing but
  air: That's really ridiculous. His stomach is empty, without the least
  little thing to give it weight. This stands for thoughts that have no
  truth to them. We keep searching them out, gathering them up and
  elaborating on them in various ways without getting any results out of
  them at all, aside from making ourselves restless and distracted. We
  never have any time to sit still in one place, and instead keep
  running and jumping around until the skin on our rears has no chance
  to make contact anywhere with a place to sit down. This is what is
  meant by, 'We don't get to sit on any skin.' We can't lie down, we
  can't stay seated -- even though our bodies may be seated, our minds
  aren't seated there with them. We don't get to eat any meat and
  instead we choke on the bones. We try to swallow them, but they won't
  go down; we try to cough them up, but they won't come out.

    When we say, 'We choke on the bones,' this refers to the various bad
  preoccupations that get stuck in the heart. The 'bones' here are the
  five Hindrances.

    (1) Sensual desire: The mind gets carried away with things it likes.

    (2) Ill will: Things that displease us are like bones stuck in the
  heart. The mind fastens on things that are bad, on things we dislike,
  until we start feeling animosity, anger, and hatred. Sometimes we even
  gather up old tasteless bones that were thrown away long ago -- like
  chicken bones that have been boiled to make stock: The meat has fallen
  off, the flavor has been boiled away, and all that's left are the
  hard, brittle bones they throw to dogs. This stands for old thoughts
  stretching back 20 to 30 years that we bring out to gnaw on. Look at
  yourself: Your mind is so impoverished that it has to suck on old
  bones. It's really pitiful.

    (3) Torpor & lethargy: When the mind has been feeding on trash like
  this, with nothing to nourish it, its strength is bound to wane away.
  It becomes sleepy and depressed, oblivious to other people's words,
  not hearing their questions or understanding what they're trying to
  say.

    (4) Restlessness & anxiety: The mind then gets irritable and
  distracted, which is followed by --

    (5) Uncertainty: We may decide that good things are bad, or bad
  things are good, wrong things are right, or right things are wrong. We
  may do things in line with the Dhamma and not realize it, or contrary
  to the Dhamma -- but in line with our own preconceptions -- and not
  know it. Everything gets stuck in our throat, and we can't decide
  which way to go, so our thoughts keep running around in circles, like
  a person who rows his boat around in a lake for hours and hours
  without getting anywhere. 

    This is called harming yourself, hurting yourself, killing yourself.
  And when we can do this sort of thing to ourselves, what's to keep us
  from doing it to others? This is why we shouldn't let ourselves harbor
  thoughts of envy, jealousy or anger. If any of these five Hindrances
  arise in the heart, then trouble and suffering will come flooding in
  like a torrential downpour, and we won't be able to hold our own
  against them. All of this is because of the unawareness that keeps us
  from having any inner quality as a mainstay. Even though we may live
  in a seven- or nine-storey mansion and eat food at $40 a plate, we
  won't be able to find any happiness.

    People without any inner quality are like vagrants with no home to
  live in. They have to be exposed to sun, rain, and wind by day and by
  night, so how can they find any relief from the heat or the cold? With
  nothing to shelter them, they have to lie curled up until their backs
  get all crooked and bent. When a storm comes, they need to scurry to
  find shelter: They can't stay under trees because they're afraid the
  trees will be blown down on top of them. They can't stay in open
  fields because they're afraid lightning will strike. At midday the sun
  is so hot that they can't sit for long -- like an old barefooted woman
  walking on an asphalt road when the sun is blazing: She can't put her
  feet down because she's afraid they'll blister, so she dances around
  in place on her tiptoes, not knowing where she can rest her feet.

    This is why the Buddha felt such pity for us, and taught us to find
  shelter for ourselves by doing good and developing concentration as a
  principle in our hearts, so that we can have an inner home. This way
  we won't have to suffer, and other people will benefit as well. This
  is called having a mainstay.

    People with no mainstay are bound to busy themselves with things
  that have no real meaning or worth -- i.e., with things that can't
  protect them from suffering when the necessity arises. //A person
  without the wisdom to search for a mainstay is sure to suffer
  hardships//. I'll illustrate this point with a story. Once there was a
  band of monkeys living in the upper branches of a forest, each one
  carrying its young wherever it went. One day a heavy wind storm came.
  As soon as the monkeys heard the sound of the approaching wind, they
  broke off branches and twigs to make themselves a nest on one of the
  bigger branches. After they had piled on the twigs, they went down
  under the nest and looked up to see if there were still any holes.
  Wherever they saw a hole, they piled on more twigs and branches until
  the whole thing was piled thick and high. Then when the wind and rain
  came, they got up on top of the nest, sitting there with their mouths
  open, shivering from the cold, exposed to the wind and rain. Their
  nest hadn't offered them any protection at all, simply because of
  their own stupidity. Eventually a gust of wind blew the nest apart.
  The monkeys were scattered every which way and ended up dangling here
  and there, their babies falling from their grasp, all of them
  thoroughly miserable from their hardship and pain.

    //People who don't search for inner worth as their mainstay are no
  different from these monkeys.// They work at amassing money and
  property, thinking that these things will give them security, but when
  death comes, none of these things can offer any safety at all. This is
  why the Buddha felt such pity for all the deluded people in the world,
  and went to great lengths to teach us to search for inner quality as a
  mainstay for ourselves.

    People who have inner quality as their mainstay are said to be kind
  not only to themselves but also to others as well, in the same way
  that when we have a house of our own, we can build a hut for other
  people to live in, too. If we see that another person's hut is going
  to cave in, we help find thatch to roof it; make walls for the left
  side, right side, the front and the back, to protect it from storm
  winds; and raise the floor to get it above flood level. What this
  means is that we teach the other person how to escape from his or her
  own defilements in the same way that we've been able, to whatever
  extent, to escape from ours. When we tell others to practice
  concentration, it's like helping them roof their house so that they
  won't have to be exposed to the sun and rain. Making walls for the
  front and back means that we tell them to shut off thoughts of past
  and future; and walls for the left and right means that we tell them
  to shut off thoughts of likes and dislikes. Raising the floor above
  flood level means we get them to stay firmly centered in 
  concentration, keeping their minds still with their object of
  meditation.

    Once people have a house with good walls, a sound roof, and a solid
  floor, then even if they don't have any other external belongings --
  just a single rag to their name -- they can be happy, secure, and at
  peace. //But if your house is sunk in the mud, what hope is there for
  your belongings?// You'll have to end up playing with crabs, worms,
  and other creepy things. Your walls are nothing but holes, so that
  people can see straight through your house, in one side and out the
  other. Even from four to five miles away they can see everything
  you've got. When this is the case, thieves are going to gang up and
  rob you -- i.e., all sorts of bad thoughts and preoccupations are
  going to come in and ransack your heart.

    As for your roof, it's nothing but holes. You look up and can see
  the stars. Termite dust is going to sift into your ears and eyes, and
  birds flying past will plaster you with their droppings. So in the
  end, all you can do is sit scratching your head in misery because you
  haven't any shelter.

    When this is the case, you should take pity on yourself and develop
  your own inner worth. Keep practicing concentration until your heart
  matures, step by step. When you do this, you'll develop the light of
  discernment that can chase the darkness of unawareness out of your
  heart. When there's no more unawareness, you'll be free from craving
  and attachment, and ultimately gain Liberation.

    For this reason, we should all keep practicing meditation and set
  our hearts on developing nothing but inner goodness, without
  retreating or getting discouraged. Whatever is a form of goodness,
  roll up your sleeves and pitch right in. Don't feel any regrets even
  if you ram your head into a wall and die on the spot. If you're brave
  in your proper efforts this way, all your affairs are sure to succeed
  in line with your hopes and aspirations. But if evil comes and asks to
  move into your home -- your heart -- chase it away. Don't let it stay
  even for a single night.

                                *  *  *

  People who like to gather up thoughts, worries, etc., to hold onto are
  no different from prisoners tied down with a ball and chain. To fasten
  onto thoughts of the past is like having a rope around your waist tied
  to a post behind you. To fasten onto thoughts of the future is like
  having a rope around your neck tied to a door in front. To fasten onto
  thoughts you like is like having a rope around your right wrist tied
  to a post on your right. To fasten onto thoughts you don't like is
  like having a rope around your left wrist tied to a wall on your left.
  Whichever way you try to step, you're pulled back by the rope on the
  opposite side, so how can you hope to get anywhere at all?

    As for people who have unshackled themselves from their thoughts,
  they stand tall and free like soldiers or warriors with weapons in
  both hands and no need to fear enemies from any direction. Any
  opponents who see them won't dare come near, so they're always sure to
  come out winning.

    But if we're the type tied up with ropes on all sides, nobody's
  going to fear us, because there's no way we can take any kind of
  stance to fight them off. If enemies approach us, all we can do is
  dance around in one spot.

    So I ask that we all take a good look at ourselves, and try to
  unshackle ourselves from all outside thoughts and preoccupations.
  Don't let them get stuck in your heart. Your meditation will then give
  you results, your mind will advance to the transcendent, and you're
  sure to come out winning someday.

                            * * * * * * * *
 
 

                 TRADING OUTER WEALTH FOR INNER WEALTH
                              July 1, 1958

  Inner wealth, according to the texts, means seven things -- 
  conviction, virtue, a sense of conscience, scrupulousness, breadth of
  learning, generosity, and discernment -- but to put it simply, inner
  wealth refers to the inner quality we build within ourselves. Outer
  wealth -- money and material goods -- doesn't have any hard and fast
  owners. Today it may be ours, tomorrow someone else may take it away.
  There are times when it belongs to us, and times when it belongs to
  others. Even with things that are fixed in the ground, like farms or
  orchards, you can't keep them from changing hands.

    So when you develop yourself so as to gain the discernment that sees
  how worldly things are undependable and unsure, don't let your
  property -- your worldly possessions -- sit idle. The Buddha teaches
  us to plant crops on our land so that we can benefit from it. If you
  don't make use of your land, it's sure to fall into other people's
  hands. In other words, when we stake out a claim to a piece of
  property, we should plant it full of crops. Otherwise the government
  won't recognize our claim, and we'll lose our rights to it. Even if we
  take the case to court, we won't have a chance to win. So once you see
  the weakness of an idle claim, you should hurry up and plant crops on
  it so that the government will recognize your claim and issue you a
  title to the land.

    What this means is that we should make use of our material
  possessions by being generous with them, using them in a way that
  develops the inner wealth of generosity within us. This way they
  become the kind of wealth over which we have full rights, and that
  will benefit us even into future lifetimes.

                            * * * * * * * *