Today we learn about the importance of ourselves. We have three things — body, heart, and the Dhamma-sphere — together forming our most valuable possessions. Born into the human realm, our most precious tools are the body and the heart.

The mind within the mind: 89 to 121 states of consciousness

The heart's knowing consists of feeling, perception, mental formations, and consciousness — seeing, thinking, knowing. As for the mind itself, our late teacher said that when we still ourselves into the center of the sphere of feeling, we find the sphere of perception; stilling further into perception, we find the sphere of mental formations; stilling further, we find the mind itself, residing at the center of mental formations. The mind of the human body itself is only one, but there are as many as 89 other minds in brief, or 121 in full. The 89 are the minds of the three realms — mundane consciousness. Adding the remaining brings it to 121, including supramundane consciousness, from the change-of-lineage state onward until Dhamma is attained. When a nature possesses the mind — when unwholesomeness possesses the mind — it overlays the mind of a hell-being, an asura, or an animal onto the mind of the human body, residing at the center of mental formations, at the center of the mind. This is why the mind that wholesome, unwholesome, or neutral natures overlay onto our own is called "mind within mind." Whatever the overlaid mind thinks, we know it, because it overlays our own heart — the heart is our instrument of knowing. Whatever mind from whichever realm descends to overlay us, whatever feelings and thoughts it expresses, we feel and think the same — however terrible or however good, we perceive it, because the heart knows what it knows and we know accordingly. It depends on the surrounding conditions at that moment: if the country falls into chaos, people panicking and confused, unwholesomeness enters each person's mind, using that environment to draw in minds fit to become hell-beings, hungry ghosts, asuras, or animals, depending on whose inner frequency matches which realm — it automatically draws in that mind. That person then panics, terrified, displaying various behaviors. Each person has their own upper and lower limits — how far into evil they can go, how far into good they can reach. Some people can do bad things but could never bring themselves to kill; some can shout and cause a commotion but would never raise a hand to strike. There's a controlling nature that limits how far each person's evil or good can go, differing from person to person, because each person's proportion of wholesome, unwholesome, and neutral nature differs. Whoever has more wholesomeness can do more good and less evil; whoever has more unwholesomeness can do less good — able to give but unwilling to keep precepts, or able to give and keep precepts but unable to meditate.

Feeling is the indicator sphere: telling who is master of the house

When a wholesome, unwholesome, or neutral nature possesses the heart, if it's wholesome, we feel at ease and happy. The sphere of feeling is the outer layer of the heart, acting as an indicator: it signals that wholesomeness has possessed the mind, and we feel comfortable. If unwholesomeness possesses the mind, we must endure something hard to bear. If neutrality possesses the mind, we feel strangely blank.

The difference between equanimity and neutrality's blankness

Neutrality's blank state is entirely different from equanimity. Equanimity is a balanced, stable, unwavering state of neutrality, with complete mindfulness and full awareness, because it belongs to the wholesome system. Neutrality is not this — it is a blank feeling without mindfulness, because mindfulness is a mental factor that belongs only to wholesomeness, arising only when a wholesome mind is established. Try this: set your intent on your feet — do you feel them touching the floor, cool or warm, soft or firm? Set your intent on your hands resting on your lap — do you know it? Set your intent on the breath, in and out — do you know it? But if we don't set any intent at all, letting the mind drift with nothing to focus on and nothing to know — that blank state is the state of neutrality. But if we set our intent on the feet touching the floor, keep knowing it continuously, staying still and calm, knowing the exact spot of coolness, warmth, softness, or firmness that we perceive most clearly, keeping that awareness going, it gradually becomes stable and balanced — set the intent to find that balanced point, and equanimity will be established. Once stable and balanced, stay aware right there; whatever stimuli, external or internal, arise, equanimity remains unmoved. This is how the state of equanimity is established.

Outer and inner feeling: a correction of common misunderstanding

When the three natures enter the outer layer, feeling perceives only these three qualities — the Tipitaka speaks of only these three kinds of feeling in the heart. The feeling arising from contact through the consciousness-element, which must reach out to perceive external forms, tastes, smells, and sounds through the sense organs of eye, ear, nose, tongue, and body, is not the feeling directly connected to the heart itself. When the three natures possess us through the heart, feeling perceives only three things: pleasant, unpleasant, or neither — perceiving whichever nature has possessed the mind. Whichever nature possesses the mind becomes master, able to reach into the reservoir of memory and use its contents — knowing who we are, our history — and bring that memory data into the sphere of thought. The sphere of thought is like a computer's CPU. The sphere of feeling is like an indicator of which operating system has taken over and is driving things. Once it takes over, it pulls data from the memory reservoir and processes it at the sphere of thought — this is where the "mind within mind" resides. The thoughts and feelings of whichever mind is overlaid — whether hell-being, asura, animal, human, subtle human, celestial, or Brahma body — take data from that processing according to what's needed for the current situation, along with any relevant past data, and use it. The resulting thoughts and feelings then appear in our own heart, our instrument of knowing — whatever it thinks, we know, because it thinks within our own heart.

The six sense-doors and the struggle for focus

After processing, the consciousness-sphere carries this out through the eye, ear, nose, tongue, and body, through the five sense faculties, toward external forms, tastes, smells, and sounds, focusing there. This focus passes through the nerve center — at the nerve centers of eye, ear, nose, tongue, and body, the wholesome, unwholesome, and neutral streams take turns possessing, whichever is stronger enters to distort the data toward its own side. This is why our late teacher had us invite the Buddha, Dhamma, and Sangha to reside at the eye-door, ear-door, nose-door, tongue-door, body-door, and mind-door — because focus is drawn outward, where there is much to look at, and that focus becomes the occasion for lust to arise, for aversion to arise, for delusion to arise — deliberately focused to induce whatever energy is desired. If unwholesome, it induces lust, aversion, delusion, and greed; if wholesome, it induces the energy of non-greed, non-aversion, non-delusion in what is correct and good, to induce merit and wholesomeness. Everything has a purpose. Our body and heart are never free from this induction of energy — sometimes merit flows through, sometimes sin flows through, sometimes neutral energy flows through, continuously, without rest.

Covetousness and grief: pleasure and displeasure are decided at the heart

The consciousness-sphere carries the overlaid mind to arise through the sense faculties — not into a future life, but within each present moment — leading to contact through the sensory system. Upon contact with form, taste, smell, or sound, feeling arises: sour, sweet, oily, salty, pleasant, unpleasant. The final verdict comes down to the heart, deciding between pleasant and unpleasant. Pleasant becomes gladness — covetousness (abhijjhā) — a greed wanting to obtain; unpleasant becomes grief (domanassa) — irritation. We walk out to find food, look at a restaurant — do we like it, are we pleased? We go in, pick up the menu — pleasant or unpleasant, that's all it comes down to. If greatly displeased, irritation arises, and unwholesomeness induces sin. If pleased and delighted, we scatter into wanting this and that, and unwholesomeness guides us further. The Buddha therefore taught: "Monks, you should clearly know body, feeling, mind, and dhamma, to eliminate covetousness and grief toward the world." Covetousness is the delight and satisfaction combined with the desire to obtain — our late teacher called it "the gladness that scatters the heart," because in that scattering, greed slips in, and selfishness, taking only for oneself, arises. If a friend orders food we don't like, irritation rises within; unwholesomeness says, "why did they order this?" — is that voice really ours? No, it's the voice of unwholesomeness, with the purpose of inducing energy. For every feeling that arises, we simply remain neutral. If it isn't truly us, we stay still. But if we go along, agreeing "yes, that's right," sin has already entered. But if we remain still and calm, stopping everything, the sphere of stillness is established — called "stillness itself is accomplishment."

Stillness itself is accomplishment: the sifting-tray analogy

Once stillness is established, the pure Dhamma is established; stillness goes so far that even the breath follows suit. Try setting the intent to stop — the breath will pause for a moment; set the intent again, and it pauses again — the entire pure system stops. This is why it's said stillness itself is accomplishment — accomplished because wholesomeness is established, and everything is drawn toward goodness. Stillness appears as a clear, bright sphere, like a still, luminous orb, but with a quality that calms all vibration, because the more something vibrates, the more it craves. Think of a sand-sifting tray: if the sand vibrates too much, it can't pass through the mesh; if it vibrates gently, it sifts through easily. This very vibration is what prevents liberation into a subtler dimension. We must therefore set the intent to remain still, in order to move from one dimension into a subtler one, without letting it vibrate — the vibration then lessens, grows lighter. Blankness, too, appears as a clear, bright sphere; its state serves to block awareness of external disturbance. This sphere controls what we perceive — a friend talks, we stay blank; anyone talks, we stay blank; each word is a Dhamma-state contained within its own clear sphere.

Form and designation: every Dhamma-sphere is a package containing a state

A clear sphere is a package containing its content. If wholesome, the package is a clear sphere; if unwholesome, a dark sphere; if neutral, a grey sphere. Within, each contains a different state, which we name accordingly — this name is the "designation" (nāma); the package itself is the "form" (rūpa). Hence, form and designation. Dhamma can only appear at the heart, nowhere else. Once it appears at the heart, it reveals its own qualities through our behavior — for example, if we establish a state of blankness, the heart becomes blank, unresponsive to any external stimulus. We learn this to put it to use — whenever disturbance arises, we set the intent on blankness, and the sphere of blankness is established, revealing that blank state, letting us remain unmoved, free of delight or aversion toward our surroundings. Beyond stillness and blankness, there are many other states — relaxation, openness, spaciousness, lightness, fullness, brightness, freshness, refined gentleness, softness — which we can set our intent on and they appear instantly, unlike worldly things that must be sought or purchased. But once acquired, worldly things may last longer — sugar or salt dissolved in water stays sweet or salty as long as it sits there. But inner states appear the moment we set our intent, then fade after a while — 15 to 30 seconds and they're gone, requiring us to set the intent again. We must therefore learn to sustain them by setting the intent on that state and then maintaining it — it lasts only as long as we sustain it.

A story: the teacher who taught loving-kindness, and the gecko frozen mid-air

The teacher told a story from a certain school, where a teacher taught students to cultivate loving-kindness every class period — each time she came to teach, she'd have the students set an intention of goodwill and radiate it outward, practicing this every day. One day, while teaching, the students suddenly cried out, pointing to a half-visible gecko about to crawl into the classroom. The teacher told the students to establish loving-kindness and radiate it outward. All the students closed their eyes and set their intent, radiating loving-kindness — and the gecko, in the middle of entering the room, froze completely still, suspended in mid-air, before eventually crawling away. Someone who witnessed this wrote to ask the elder teacher whether this was a wondrous event — could children's loving-kindness really do this? What caused it? The elder teacher explained that this is simply the nature of loving-kindness. When loving-kindness is set within the heart, it becomes an accomplished element — established the moment it's set. When we set the intent to radiate it toward a particular place, loving-kindness shines there, and wherever it shines, it can dissolve resentment and irritation. If the being we radiate toward doesn't have overwhelmingly strong unwholesome mind, our radiance can induce a wholesome mind to arise in the recipient. Once the recipient's wholesome mind arises, pure energy flows in to nurture them. So it's no surprise that the children's loving-kindness caused the gecko's wholesome mind to arise — a wholesome mind is a good mind, consisting of mindfulness, faith, non-greed, non-aversion, and the equanimity mental factor (tatramajjhattatā) becoming established, bringing balance and freedom from panic, keeping the gecko from falling out of its balanced position.

The four elements and the consciousness-sphere: the hardware of the body

Beyond body and heart, we also have the Dhamma-sphere, which is like a storehouse holding everything that belongs to us. It has three parts: storing the subtle elements — earth, water, wind, fire, space-element, and consciousness-element — the hardware controlling the coarse elements. These earth, water, wind, and fire elements are more subtle than the elements in our scientific periodic table — sodium, potassium, hydrogen, oxygen — which are coarser forms of the earth element. The water element has the quality of binding, holding the earth element together — scientifically, this is like the electron bonds that form compounds. The fire and wind elements cause movement, and movement produces friction, generating temperature. At the center is space, an empty gap, and the consciousness-element. When wholesome, unwholesome, or neutral minds arise through the nervous system via eyes, ears, nose, tongue, and body, unwholesomeness causes disturbance in the earth, water, wind, and fire elements. Small disturbances at the center are no problem — wholesomeness can still restore balance. But if the disturbance is severe, it causes abnormalities in hormones and enzymes, throwing the body's systems out of balance. If wholesomeness arises repeatedly, it induces merit to restore the elements to balance.

Merit and sin spheres enfolding each other, and the emperor who manages

The consciousness-sphere accumulates energy whenever we go engage in activity, bringing in merit or sin to store within the sphere of energy. This is drawn as it is because sometimes the merit-sphere envelops the sin-sphere, and sometimes the sin-sphere envelops the merit-sphere. When the merit-sphere is larger, it envelops the sin-sphere, and merit reveals its quality of happiness — good economy, good mood, good health, strong and positive thoughts and feelings. The opposite happens when the sin-sphere is larger, enveloping the merit-sphere — poor economy, business trouble, and hardship arise. Whenever the merit-sphere grows larger, it envelops the sin-sphere, preventing it from expressing suffering, and instead reveals happiness and prosperity in life. We must therefore continuously induce and store energy that is merit, by keeping precepts, meditating, and studying and reflecting on the Dhamma. Within the center of either the merit or the sin sphere resides a manager — we call this manager the "emperor" (chakravartin). Our late teacher called the manager at the center of the merit-sphere the emperor. If it's a minor emperor, it has little power, because the merit-energy is small — able to help its owner only a little, but still trying to sustain their life, even amid hardship. If somewhat better, it becomes a great emperor, representing a middle-class life — enough to live on, some savings, a smooth and sufficient life with a degree of prosperity. If at the level of the wealthy, it becomes a supreme emperor, with abundant merit-energy and many followers helping to gather wealth, all guided by this supreme-emperor manager whispering, "do this, do that," set this year's target, expand the business this way, market it that way — all guided by the emperor whispering as if it were our own thinking, and we believe we're clever ourselves.

A story: the student who "closed the merit account" and transformed their career

But when a crisis strikes, a supreme emperor can shrink back to a great emperor, and all that knowledge and ability seems to vanish — why isn't the ability showing now? Because the capable emperor no longer has enough power, leaving only a great emperor, reduced to middle-class capacity. But we can upgrade. The teacher told the story of a student earning around 20,000-something baht a month, who came asking how to earn enough to buy a house. The teacher suggested trying to "close the merit account" (ปิดบัญชีทำบุญ), in order to upgrade from a minor emperor to a great one. As it happened, right after closing the merit account through a kathina donation, the company where this student worked had layoffs, and the student was among those let go, receiving three months' severance pay. They quickly applied for new jobs, and within a week were called in for an interview. Asked what salary they wanted, they suddenly said 50,000 baht — nearly double their previous salary. The company said they'd review and call back. While waiting, the student remembered the resolution made while closing the merit account. A few days later, they got the call, receiving the job at the salary requested, along with the three months' severance already in hand. They worked there for years, until growing weary of the demanding accounting closing work, staying late every month. Remembering the teacher's earlier advice, they closed the merit account again — this time asking only for the same salary but an easier job. Not long after, they met the host of an ordination ceremony who ran an interior design business for foreign clients, looking for a salesperson fluent in English. The student mentioned they knew English, and got the new job at the same salary but with far less stress — exactly as requested. Years later, wanting to earn six figures, they realized staying as they were wouldn't get them there, so they took additional accounting courses and applied to a foreign software company seeking someone to develop modern accounting systems — matching exactly what they had just studied. The company offered 100,000 baht, negotiated down to 90,000 — again, exactly as wished for. Everything is driven by merit, but there must always be an existing foundation to build upon — it isn't without any foundation at all.