A student brought up a teaching: "If you want merit, go into the center of the body — the center of the center. The deeper you go each year, the more you'll find merit; a sea of merit lies right there at the center of the body. There are two rulers governing it: Māra governs one side, the Buddha governs the other. If the Buddha's side is governing, doing good deeds brings merit sent to us like electricity being supplied for use — there has to be someone sending that current, or we couldn't use it at all. Demerit works the same way. Māra governs and compels us toward birth, aging, sickness, and death; the Buddha's side, by contrast, works against birth, aging, sickness, and death." He then asked: do both currents, from the Buddha's side and from Māra's side, stream in constantly?

Merit and demerit are currents constantly competing for turns as house-owner

He explained that yes, they compete for turns constantly. Whoever seizes the turn to become house-owner can draw their own energy in to drive their own system. Each nature must find a way to be subtler than the other, down to fractions of a second — whoever achieves greater subtlety becomes the house-owner. Once in control, it relies on mental factors to draw energy in, directing the person's thoughts, speech, and actions toward its own goal — the unwholesome guides toward unwholesome thought and action to draw in demerit, the wholesome guides toward wholesome thought and action to draw in merit, alternating back and forth continuously. When demerit takes hold, it presses us down, forcing us to live with great difficulty, binding us with the hindrances so we cannot be freed. Merit, by contrast, is drawn in to elevate our heart and mind, purify impurity, and bring about liberation, gradually increasing the proportion of wholesomeness within us. Most people are entirely unaware of this mechanism, spending their time on entertainment and amusement without realizing these natures are directing the course of their lives.

"Drinking mindfully" or "gambling mindfully" is often the unwholesome's own voice, drawing both new and old demerit in to wait for its moment

A student asked: if a friend invites us to drink, and we intend to drink mindfully, confident we can control ourselves, or to try gambling just for fun while staying mindful, what harm could come of it? He explained that the very voice suggesting this is the unwholesome itself, whispering that it's fine, that we're being mindful about it. Once we accept that thought, we become imprisoned within the unwholesome's dimension, and demerit is drawn in continuously without our realizing it. Demerit takes the form of a dark sphere, filled inside with states of suffering — impurity itself. At its center lie stored consequences meant to destroy our assets. Every moment spent engaging with these things is a moment of accumulating hardship.

Beyond that, newly committed demerit opens a channel that draws in similar old demerit from past lives — times when we drank or gambled in previous existences get reawakened without our knowing it. The unwholesome side keeps banking these causes, lifetime after lifetime, waiting for the moment when it has enough strength to detonate and destroy that person's life, like an army striking from every direction at once. Even after death, it can drag someone toward rebirth as a demon or an animal. This is truly something to fear, which is why the Buddha warned us never to take even small evils lightly.

A real account: a wholesome voice rang out in the mind just in time

The student then shared a personal memory from over twenty years ago. Just days after leaving a period of temporary ordination, he had to attend a work gathering where someone urged him to drink. As he was about to lift the glass, a teaching he'd once heard suddenly rang out clearly in his mind: "Don't let it disgrace the yellow robe." He set the glass down immediately and automatically, without even thinking — as though some current had taken control, like a puppet. It became a phrase he remembered for the rest of his life. Had he not heard that voice that day, he might well have gone along with the crowd, in a direction that wouldn't have served him well.

He explained that this showed the wholesome Dhamma held great power in that person's life — power strong enough to command decisively, making it very difficult for mistakes to occur, because the wholesome side was directing him toward doing only what was right and good. This is precisely what sustains an organization: an organization survives because of the background carried by its people. The greater the proportion of wholesomeness a person carries, the more they become a pillar the organization can rely on, earning positions that command the respect of superiors — each side relying on the other, each holding some good. This is often why we find ourselves surprised at how capable or good we've turned out to be, despite nothing about us looking especially remarkable — because what's truly special isn't visible on the surface at all; it's the background behind it. The more accomplished and elevated that background is, the more it can support one's career and the organization as a whole.

Is a treat with a small amount of alcohol wrong?

A follow-up question came about desserts, like rum-flavored ice cream, containing a small trace of alcohol for flavor — is that wrong? He explained that what's wrong is whatever causes loss of mindfulness. If full mindfulness and clear comprehension remain intact, it isn't wrong as such — the monastic code itself sets proportions for how much may be consumed. But the very pleasure of the taste is exactly what the unwholesome uses to guide us toward wanting more and more. Even a small amount that doesn't noticeably impair the mind still carries a fire element that damages the subtle body — even while conversation stays lively and coherent, that coarse element gradually burns away the body's refinement bit by bit. If eating it leaves an uneasy feeling in the heart, it's better to abstain, since there are plenty of other delicious things to enjoy instead. Avoiding it, even in such a small matter, keeps us at a distance from danger, makes us heedful, and becomes a good habit that stays with us for life.