พระมหาวัชรินทร์อธิบายว่าเหตุใดสมถะจึงเป็นฐานของวิปัสสนา เหตุผลของกฎเข้มงวดในการปฏิบัติ เส้นทางบารมีของพระสัมมาสัมพุทธเจ้ากว่าจะตรัสรู้ ก่อนปิดท้ายด้วยหลักการเดินจงกรมและการรับมือสภาวะที่เกิดขึ้นระหว่างฝึกPhra Maha Vacharin explains why calm abiding (samatha) must form the foundation for insight (vipassanā), the reasoning behind the retreat's strict rules, and the vast path of accumulated perfections a Buddha traverses before enlightenment — closing with practical instruction on walking meditation and how to handle whatever arises during practice.
We need a solid foundation of calm abiding (), because without it we cannot progress to a subtle, deep (vipassanā). Mindfulness is what trains us to develop samatha — stillness. When we direct the mind, or keep , within, that is samatha: a stillness that arises from within, one we can recognize, understand, and use to enter inner states of . Stillness here doesn't mean walking around mindfully in ordinary daily life — it specifically means stopping to receive only the internal sense base. We close our eyes to erase external sights, sounds, smells, tastes, and touches, and then observe the stillness with mindfulness held within. This is samatha.
Living daily life while keeping the mind with the body is what we call training in mindfulness, meant to sustain us through daily living — but in daily life this is more like a light, sustained holding rather than something deep. Closing the eyes to shut off the external senses and turn toward the internal senses — leaving only mental recognition, with mindfulness and mind remaining within the body at all times — is the training that develops samatha further. As we do this, our power grows, and this state of stillness, of one-pointedness of mind (ekaggatārammaṇa), becomes the cause that lets us reach the first (absorption) easily. The first jhāna is thus the foundation.
Becoming Established in the First Jhāna — Solitude From the External World
As we train samatha extensively, cutting off external perception, becoming secluded from people, from external communication whether through speech or action that sends the mind outward, we become established in the first jhāna as a preliminary base. At first this may come and go — sometimes achieved, sometimes not — because it isn't yet stable enough. If we return to daily life and lose mindfulness, slipping back into close contact with people, that can cause us to fall back from that first jhāna. During this unstable early training, whenever we get the chance to sit and practice, we can reach that point again; when we return to daily life and various events occur, we may slip back down. So there's no need to worry that what we've gained disappears. Each time we get another chance to practice, our and understanding of the path to that point becomes easier.
Why Phones and External Communication Are Set Aside
The reason we ask you to set aside your phones and spend so much time with yourself is so you can listen to your own inner voice, staying with whatever arises during practice as much as possible — cutting off communication tools and external stimuli that would waste our time or open us to sense impressions unhelpful to practice. This program asks for that so that you can see, understand, and gain clear results from your practice, and receive tangible benefit from being here — benefit you can see clearly, which requires practicing with genuine understanding and seriousness.
The Middle Way — Practicing With Understanding, Neither Too Tight nor Too Loose
Without understanding, tension, expectation, or overly tight thinking beyond what's reasonable can arise — contrary to the Buddha's Middle Way. Too tight is wrong; too loose is also wrong; it must be just right. "Just right" means that once we understand the principles of practice, we can train appropriately. It is hard and tiring, true, but we know why we accept that hardship — practice must produce results clear and evident in our own understanding. This is the goal of organizing this retreat: for practitioners to understand and train themselves correctly, whatever background they come from, developing further according to each person's own effort. Once we're here, there is no "your lineage" or "my lineage" — we have only one lineage, the Buddha's own.
The 84,000 Sections of Dhamma Never Contradict Each Other
The Buddha's teaching, all 84,000 sections of Dhamma, contain nothing that contradicts anything else. The forty methods of practice recorded in the Tipitaka contain nothing contradictory either. Even methods outside the Tipitaka — of which there are many — if correct, will not contradict the original path; if incorrect, contradiction naturally follows. We come here to learn, understand, and develop further and further. Whatever we don't understand can be asked of the teaching monks who visit each session, or arranged through staff for individual consultation outside scheduled times.
Insight Is Clear Knowing — the Dhammakāya Method and Other Approaches
Vipassanā means clear, luminous knowing. That clear knowing exists across many traditions, each of which can rightly be called vipassanā. Our revered senior teacher came to see it through the practice of , so he used that method to develop higher Dhamma, higher insight, toward liberation on the path of fruition. Other teachers have their own approaches — using the same underlying faculty, but not contemplating through that particular point. Some contemplate through the Four Foundations of Mindfulness (paṭṭhāna); ultimately, every lineage points toward Nibbana. On the path our senior teacher walked, he contemplated by accessing the Dhamma through the inner body, examining the Three Rounds and Twelve Aspects, contemplating , generating knowledge, insight, and clarity from within. Other teachers contemplate according to the Satipaṭṭhāna Sutta or other principles — equally valid. The aim is the same: progress toward the path and fruit of Nibbana. Any valid method can be used.
Insight thus exists at many levels. Using wisdom to contemplate can already be called vipassanā, though at a beginning level, not the highest. The middle level requires training until one touches the inner emotional states and feelings, sufficient inner stillness, and good states of Dhamma arise, which one then contemplates. But ultimately, none of this is possible without āloka — inner light; that light is needed for the study and learning itself. Each teacher has their own method, but at minimum we must possess a mind endowed with wholesome mental qualities.
A Mind of Wholesome Qualities, and the Serene Mind
If we practice correctly, seeing and knowing in accordance with reality, at minimum our mind should be endowed with wholesome qualities — gentleness and softness, inner steadiness, free of greed, aversion, and delusion, possessing moral shame and moral fear (hiri-ottappa), and a freshness within the mind, a serene mind (citta-khema). The more we practice, the more radiant the mind should become — it must be serene, and we should be able to remain there continuously. As we train and our knowledge and understanding grow clearer at each stage, we can progress into deeper, more refined levels.
Correcting Latent Tendencies First — the Analogy of Studying by Grade Level
Reaching the ultimate goal is indeed something we must do, but our habits and latent tendencies (anusaya) must be corrected first. Whatever unwholesome things enter the mind, we must recognize them in time; fixing mindfulness firmly must come first, before we can proceed to study deeper points. It's like education: we know that the highest degree is a doctorate, but our current knowledge might only be at the middle- or high-school level. We can't rush straight to doctoral-level knowledge — we need enough grounding at the secondary level to progress to university, then a bachelor's degree, then a master's, before finally reaching a doctorate. We must follow the curriculum step by step. So we must assess where we currently stand and correct that point first, then build a solid foundation to support whatever we will study in the future.
Practicing here isn't compulsory like school, where someone forces you into the classroom. If you pass the assessment, you pass; if not, you must repeat the same level. So we need a solid current foundation and sufficient knowledge to free ourselves from the defilements we currently hold, entering into concentration, inner steadiness, and knowledge that lets us build further. We need knowledge from a guide before we can enter into inner knowledge. Without a teacher or outer knower to guide us, we would need to accumulate perfections (pāramī) enormously on our own.
The Perfections of a Fully Enlightened Buddha — 20, 40, or 80 Incalculable Eons
A Buddha of the wisdom type (paññādhika) must cultivate perfections for at least 20 incalculable eons (asaṅkhyeya) plus a hundred thousand great aeons; a Buddha of the faith type (saddhādhika), 40 incalculable eons plus a hundred thousand great aeons; a Buddha of the effort type (vīriyādhika), 80 incalculable eons plus a hundred thousand great aeons. He must cultivate the ten perfections and the thirty perfections to full completion, until attaining the knowledge of the Supreme Teacher, the Fully Enlightened Buddha, to teach others. He, too, had teachers — passing through countless Buddhas before him — before finally receiving the prediction of future Buddhahood, before finally becoming a Fully Enlightened Buddha himself.
The Buddha "awakened by himself, rightly" (sammāsambuddha), but before that, he had to pass through countless Buddhas as teachers. In each life across countless lifetimes, that knowledge was stored as memory, carried life after life. Otherwise, how could he, before enlightenment, study for just seven days and become versed in eighteen fields of knowledge — the equivalent of eighteen doctorates — if he hadn't already been through and trained in these matters across countless past lives? All of this was stored at , deep within. Once his perfections were complete, we cannot compare an ordinary person to one whose perfections are already full.
Knowledge Stored at the Center of the Body — Enlightenment Like a Library
When he sat in meditation and rested his mind correctly, accessing the inner data reaching full enlightenment (bodhiñāṇa), it was like a library — any knowledge within it could be drawn upon. Whatever he didn't yet know, he would enter cessation attainment (nirodha-samāpatti) and ask the inner knower — the countless Buddhas who were his teachers. Whatever he wished to know, he sought knowledge from the inner knower who had already attained enlightenment within the sphere of Nibbana. All knowledge throughout the world and universe is stored there. What he brought out to teach was only a small fraction, enough for humans to receive. As he himself said: everything he taught, all 84,000 sections of Dhamma, was merely a handful of leaves; the leaves in the forest are far more numerous still — but a handful was enough for people to attain enlightenment.
A Team of Arahants — Perfections Built Together Across Countless Lives
Perfections must be sufficient before one has the right to attain — it isn't simply a matter of wanting to go there. If perfections are insufficient, if is insufficient, if hindrances and impurities remain too great, one cannot reach that point. We must therefore train continuously to move toward it. Across the Buddha's countless past lives, he had to actively seek out his own team — the arahants, the eighty great disciples who attained enlightenment together with him — because they had encountered each other across countless past lives, having built perfections together as a team, a group, which is why they came to meet him in this life.
Regarding the scale of his accumulated perfections: if the bones from all his past lives were stacked together without decomposing, they would tower far higher than the Himalayas — not just as high, but many times higher and larger. The eyes given up across those lives outnumber the stars in the sky by far. Building such perfections required an unwavering heart — giving up limbs, wealth, comfort, eyes, and life itself across countless lifetimes to preserve the Dhamma, until his perfections were sufficient to become a Fully Enlightened Buddha. The eighty great disciples required 2 incalculable eons of perfections; ordinary arahants require 1 incalculable eon — enough to reach Nibbana. The more perfections accumulated, the larger one's following and team become, the longer one's lifespan, the more beings one can carry across, and the more subtle and profound one's teaching becomes, matching the merit and capacity of those who will be able to receive it.
The Mind's Original Radiance — the Sun-and-Clouds Analogy
When we practice correctly, everything happens naturally, on its own. Our mind becomes radiant on its own — not because we forcibly make it radiant, but because we act correctly and rest the mind correctly. Once we act correctly and rest the mind correctly, there is nothing left to obscure or cloud the mind. It's like the sun: the sun exists, but if clouds cover it, we cannot see it; once the clouds clear, we inevitably see the sun again, or feel its warmth and energy. It's not that the sun didn't exist — likewise, it's not that our mind isn't radiant. The human mind is inherently luminous (pabhassara), but im obscures and blocks it, so we cannot access that radiance. Once we train to clear away that impurity entirely, we can touch that inner radiance, and inner naturally arises as a normal matter of course.
Walking Meditation — Hand Position, Gaze, and Focusing on the Soles of the Feet
This afternoon we will practice walking meditation (jongkrom) together, changing posture from sitting to walking, so we can remember what we've trained and apply it when we're out in the world. Keep in mind that we are changing from ordinary, uncontrolled walking into noble walking — walking that fixes mindfulness in order to add merit to ourselves, allowing us to remain happy and still. We walk with clear recognition; only through such recognition do we know that our walking carries firm mindfulness. Without an inward-fixed intention, walking becomes just ordinary walking — the body and mind let loose, absorbing whatever comes from outside, uncontrolled. But with mindfulness held with us, that walk develops our concentration and mindfulness to become firmly established, sustaining the mind inward completely — not walking slowly, but walking with clear awareness, fully conscious of the body.
We clasp our hands in front or behind because we want to reduce all movement to just the legs alone — focused only there, so we can direct our attention fully to the soles of the feet, with nothing else, no free-swinging hands, to disturb us. We look downward because we need to bring the mind back within the body, so we look only as far ahead as needed, never too high, keeping our focus fully on the breath and on our emotions and sensations. But never close your eyes while walking — doing so can cause you to lose balance and fall, risking accident. Walking meditation therefore always keeps the eyes open, gaze low, focused inward. Whatever specific walking method you were taught by your own teacher can be used, but let the focus of mindfulness rest on the soles of the feet, since that is the one point in continuous contact with the ground at all times.
States That Arise While Walking — Lightness, and Non-Attachment
While walking, one may feel lightness, softness — sometimes the ground feels softer, sometimes the body feels lighter; these are simply states that naturally arise while walking. It is merely a change from the sitting posture to the walking posture — still training in concentration all the same. Whether walking, standing, sitting, or lying down, once trained, the result is no different, though the sitting posture remains the standard, the best posture, because it establishes mindfulness most firmly. Walking, standing, and lying down are supplementary, keeping the mind from drifting while engaged in other postures. As long as mindfulness is held within the body, every posture can lead to attainment — even the Venerable Ananda, at the moment of his own attainment, had already trained extensively in sitting and walking beforehand, through sustained, rigorous practice.
When mindfulness is held continuously, whatever states or experiences arise are perfectly normal — for a trained practitioner these are ordinary occurrences. Once mindfulness is held within, many further experiences and states can arise — but the one crucial point remains: mindfulness must stay with us; only then can we recognize and touch those states. Once recognized, do not cling to them, because there is still more to progress toward — do not settle for or delight in any single experience; keep advancing into better, more refined states, training the mind to stillness, touching still further steady emotional states. So whatever arises, do not become attached to it. If we walk with our eyes open and with mindfulness, we see everything clearly as it is right in front of us — merely a shift in emotion and feeling — nothing to fear. But if such a state arose with the eyes closed, it might be hard to distinguish whether it was a genuine state or simply a physical sensation. With eyes open and continuous awareness, there's nothing to fear — we can clearly discern whether a sudden lurch is anxiety, or lightness is simply a natural state of training.