Someone asked whether the teacher had already taught about the Ten Perfections (pāramī). He answered that repeating a teaching is good — it reinforces it. The Ten Perfections are essential, like the reactor of a submarine that drives it through every current, north, south, east, and west. Our journey through the cycle of existence is the same — it needs an engine, called the pāramī-engine. It must be developed to spin clockwise (dakkhiṇāvatta); but if sin's fire seizes control, it forces the engine to spin counterclockwise.

Generosity spins counterclockwise under stinginess: the pipe of merit widens or narrows with the heart

How do we know when the perfection of generosity spins counterclockwise? When stinginess arises in the heart, accumulating with ever-rising targets — from a thousand to ten thousand, ten thousand to a hundred thousand, a hundred thousand to a million — once a target is set, nothing can be given away, because giving would mean losing the target. This is unwholesomeness behind the scenes. Stinginess is a dark, sticky quality (kaṇhadhamma) that wraps around the heart, preventing it from expanding — the heart narrows, squeezed tighter and tighter. When we do good, the pipe of merit narrows to match. Imagine if the pipe of merit were as wide as an irrigation canal or a river, versus one narrowed down to a coffee straw or a yogurt-drink straw — however strong the flow, a narrow pipe only lets a trickle through. A wide heart means a wide pipe; a narrow heart means a narrow pipe. When the stream of merit flows through, the purity that clears defilement is scant, happiness is scant, refined treasures are scant — just enough to scrape by day to day. Others do easy work and earn a great deal, while some carry heavy burdens for meager pay, because their pipe of merit is narrow.

A story: a friend who trained himself to give, from 20 baht to a million

The teacher recalled a friend from 40 years ago, now deceased, who first gave 20 baht at Wat Phra Dhammakaya, feeling it was expensive. As he kept giving, it grew to 50 baht, then 100, then 300, 400, 500 — daring to use a purple 500-baht note. Then a thousand-baht note, 2,000, 3,000, up to 5,000 baht each time, offering to soldier-monks at 5,000, hosting monastic meals at 10,000, forest-robe and kathina ceremonies at 100,000, several hundred thousand, and finally reaching a million baht — a journey that took many years for his heart to grow bold enough. Luang Pu Khun once taught his disciples that one must train oneself to give, or else one gives only a little while wishing to be rich — everyone must train, even he himself, despite having built numerous hospitals, said he still had to train, so that the pipe of merit kept growing. Unwholesomeness possesses us to keep us stingy; when giving generously, the heart feels tormented — but really, it's unwholesomeness that suffers, because the wealth is ours, and unwholesomeness wants to use it while wholesomeness snatches it away to give as merit. Unwholesomeness feels the pain, and we perceive that pain as our own, telling us to save it for a rainy day — we believe it, hoard it, never daring to spend it, depositing it in the bank until death, when our children spend it all instead. Stinginess spins the pāramī-engine counterclockwise; wholesomeness spins it clockwise through giving.

A story: the elder teacher had monks set up alms-collection groups to prove his power

Once, the elder teacher wanted the temple community to test their faith in the senior master, having every monk and novice set up a forest-robe collection group of 100,000 baht each to build a memorial hall. The teacher, a monk with no livelihood or sponsor, simply sat with eyes closed, connecting to let merit and treasure flow through, until he felt "full," like the feeling of a satisfying meal — then waited to see what power would manifest, without needing to see a bright sphere, just sitting. A fellow monk reported that someone, untraceable, had transferred 200,000 baht into his account. The teacher himself received offerings from a donor who, upon recognizing him, greeted him warmly. Merit draws in only people who hold good will toward us — even a quarter-baht won't come if there's ill will between us. So we must never hold prejudice against anyone, nor let anyone hold prejudice against us. Merit draws in people with good disposition — after greeting, the second thing they'd ask was whether he'd set up his collection group, and the third was how much he'd raised so far; hearing it was still little, they'd offer to "close it out" for him right there — this is merit at work.

Merit is never free: the exchange of coarse for refined treasure

Nothing comes for free — everything in this world involves an exchange. It's like buying a 500-baht watch: you save little by little until you reach the full value, and then the exchange happens. When a donor offers a coarse gift of money, we give back something refined in immeasurable value, though it can't be used right away — like planting a mango seed that can't be eaten immediately, yet it sprouts and grows, bringing joy and satisfaction. Recalling it brings deep contentment. The tree grows, offering shade, then bears fruit across the whole tree — not just once, but every year until it dies. Giving works the same way, bearing fruit beyond counting. The key point is releasing stinginess, to unlock the dark, sticky quality wrapped tightly around the heart like sticky rubber that's hard to peel away — gradually increasing our giving from 20 baht to 30, 40, 50, and onward.

Being a bringer of luck to others

Everyone wishes for good luck, yet few become the ones who bring luck to others. Why not become that person ourselves? Buying something at a fair price without haggling, encouraging someone's livelihood, tipping generously when we can — if we can give, we give. In giving luck to others, we become fortunate ourselves, establishing ourselves as bringers of luck wherever we go. With this attitude, how could we not become lucky people? The merit within us shines because wholesomeness has been established; wherever we walk, our sphere of merit shines, and celestial beings rejoice in it, recognizing us as bringers of luck — a good-hearted, generous person naturally draws others of like mind.

Three kinds of giving: material giving, giving of Dhamma, and giving of forgiveness

Three things must be given: material gifts, the gift of Dhamma, and the gift of forgiveness. Don't give only material things — give Dhamma and forgiveness too. Forgiveness is hardest of all; without it, resentment binds people together, so that even seeing each other's face brings dislike. Someone asked the teacher about people who give only "knowledge-giving" — teaching livelihood skills but never giving money, reasoning that giving money makes people incapable of earning for themselves. The teacher explained we must trace back to the root — the three natures behind every question. Wholesomeness gives what's correct and good; neutrality neither gives good nor bad; unwholesomeness gives only what's bad. In this case, the person merely withholds money but doesn't steal, showing neutrality is the guiding nature behind the scenes, offering reasonable-sounding justifications, though sometimes ill-suited to the actual situation. The result of giving only knowledge across many lifetimes is drawing good information and expertise, yet never becoming wealthy, because the managing "emperor" remains only a great emperor, unable to develop into a supreme emperor, staying at a level of merely getting by.

From the perfection of generosity to the perfection of precepts: acceptance and setting rules

Generosity earns social acceptance; a giver is beloved and thus becomes appointed a community leader. Once a leader, one wishes for society's happiness, which requires safety as its foundation. To set rules, one must first gain acceptance — generosity earns that respect and deference, enabling rules to be established. From generosity, the perfection rises to precepts, persuading people to abide by good rules — just as the teacher once asked: after graduating, we look for a company with good pay and benefits, but upon joining, find intense office politics, feeling unsafe and unwilling to stay. Generosity is the foundation; without past giving to support us, the managing emperor remains only a minor emperor, scraping by day to day.

Precepts provide safety and refine us into liberation, dimension by dimension

Precepts provide safety to ourselves and others across life's dimensions — safety of property, family, speech, and wholesome states. The five precepts protect against unwholesomeness alone; the eight precepts protect against both unwholesomeness and neutrality. Once undertaken, the sphere of precepts refines our elements toward purity; once pure enough, we're liberated, clearing defilement and freed from whatever binds us to that dimension, drawn continuously into subtler dimensions layer by layer. We only need to undertake precepts with genuine intent to provide safety — for example, if an ant sits on our water glass without intent to harm, we use a tissue to gently move it aside. When Luang Pu Mun went on forest wandering, a flash flood swept through, yet he was carried and landed gently on grass rather than being crushed, because one who provides safety receives safety in return. Precepts protect us by drawing merit to refine us toward purity, storing it in subtler dimensions beyond unwholesomeness's reach.

A story: keeping the eight precepts in the forest

During university, the teacher stayed at a forest temple instead of a dormitory, pitching a small cloth tent. Monks there noticed his sincerity and invited him to practice in a cave in Loei province. Before going, he asked himself what would protect him — the answer: the eight precepts. After undertaking them, three days passed without any noticeable feeling of protection. He then recalled his mother's practice of eating vegetarian meals for purity, and adopted it himself, focusing on purity. At first, purity appeared only as small as a pinpoint; by the second or third day, it grew much clearer, expanding over several days until it reached the tips of his fingers, surrounding him wherever he went — an inner voice exclaimed: before, I had to keep the precepts; now the precepts keep me. Arriving at the cave, the accompanying monk simply pointed the way and left, leaving him alone in complete darkness with no lamp. At night, his legs felt as though floating, though he dared not touch them to check. He later moved to a hut outside the cave, walking meditation at night without any fear at all — an inner voice explained: there is no defilement. What haunts people is the defilement within their own hearts; without inner defilement, there is nothing to be haunted by. Precepts help clear coarse defilement, forming the foundation for concentration.

Q&A: does watching the news break precepts? Precepts govern body and speech; concentration governs thought

Someone asked whether following news about oil prices for business purposes breaks precepts. The teacher answered that precepts govern body and speech, not the mind — their purpose is to prevent verbal misconduct, preventing unwholesomeness from guiding speech that causes trouble to oneself or others. As long as it causes no harm, it doesn't break precepts. Concentration addresses what precepts cannot — the realm of thought and feeling (mind and mental factor). Though watching the news doesn't break precepts, it disturbs concentration, becoming an enemy of it, preventing the development of renunciation — media must be set aside for that.

The hindrances and obscuring elements: doors that must be cleared layer by layer

Defilement has three functions: first, pulling us down through greed, aversion, delusion, and lust; second, if we ignore that, using the five hindrances (sensual desire, ill will, sloth-torpor, restlessness-worry, doubt) to disturb us into unrest; third, when we seek liberation, holding us back from it. Concentration is like a series of doors — we must first clear the hindrances blocking the entrance, then clear the obscuring elements of ignorance concealing the door itself, before we can slip into the inner dimension, even while it still feels dark. Mindfulness then transforms into full awareness, perceiving every particle of that inner space.

From precepts through renunciation to the perfection of wisdom

From precepts comes the perfection of renunciation. Precepts refine us to a degree of purity; renunciation further purifies the defilement of sensuality that unwholesomeness uses to bind us within its dimension — an endless craving for sights, tastes, smells, sounds, one thing after another. Renunciation relies on the purity of precepts as its foundation, carrying us toward liberation from sensory bondage, layer by layer. From renunciation comes the perfection of wisdom, because entering subtler and subtler dimensions brings us to ever more powerful knowers. Wisdom arises from the inner knower. Wisdom divides into learning-wisdom, reflecting-wisdom, and meditative wisdom — all following the same principle of repeated focused intent. The sphere of knowing, the sphere of mindfulness, induces merit to cleanse the obscuring elements, and the knower presiding over that field of knowledge appears to explain, feeling like our own thought. Even a single page read without understanding, reviewed a thousand times, becomes clear — though the data never increased — because the sphere of knowing induced merit to cleanse ignorance. Meditative wisdom is knowledge that doesn't exist in the world, or exists only sparsely; we must seek the inner knower, who transmits it to us like a download. Disciples of these knowers become devas of the Cātumahārājika heaven, the vidyādharas (holders of knowledge).

The true essence of wisdom: knowing the three natures that control all beings

The true essence of wisdom is knowing what controls all beings — knowledge beyond ordinary reach, requiring the Buddha, who accumulated perfections for 20 incalculable aeons plus a hundred thousand great aeons, to discover the truth behind it all: wholesome, unwholesome, and neutral phenomena, each with different goals. Unwholesomeness aims to destroy people, using un-Dhamma as its tool — the greater its power, the more it controls. The essence of wisdom is knowing the story of these three natures, their goals, their mechanisms, and how to use their tools — if they can use them, so can we. Unwholesomeness uses un-Dhamma to compel beings; wholesomeness uses Dhamma to guide beings toward goodness. Once we know this, we use it to protect ourselves from unwholesomeness. Within us lies the Dhamma-sphere containing the spheres of precepts, concentration, and wisdom. Wisdom is correct attitude, called right view (sammādiṭṭhi). Among the ten bases of meritorious action, the tenth and final is "straightening one's views" (diṭṭhujukamma) — correcting one's views to align with truth, corresponding to the first factor of the Noble Eightfold Path, right view, which governs all the other path factors.

The spheres of liberation and liberating insight-vision: seeing harm before liberation is possible

Wisdom enables the sphere of liberation to function, because wisdom must first see the harm in something — without seeing that harm, the sphere of liberation cannot act. To quit smoking or drinking, one must first see their harm clearly; only then can the sphere of liberation free us from them — laziness, fear, complaining, boasting, gambling, and all such vices. The sphere of liberating insight-vision then carries us toward a better, nobler, more wondrous life. Wisdom must also see the value of wholesomeness — the more clearly we see its value, the more the sphere of liberating insight-vision can carry us toward liberation.

Q&A: the Dhammakaya Effect

A question arose about news of the elder teacher's legal case — criminal charges dropped, only civil matters remaining. The teacher replied that we already have a plan in place: the "Dhammakaya Effect" must occur. The forces of sin had their season of creating obstacles, but that season has passed; now it is the season of merit, entering an era where people worldwide will increasingly reach the Dhamma. The Dhammakaya Effect describes how, once one person reaches an inner Dhamma state and shares the experience, those around them gradually reach it too — as happened when the teacher studied alongside the elder teacher, where friends who succeeded in meditation would share their experiences, prompting others nearby to succeed as well. The Great Dhammakaya Cetiya was built according to a plan the elder teacher perceived through deep meditation. Three elements are needed for the Dhammakaya Effect: a plaza large enough to hold a million people, a million people gathered with faith, and at least 100 monks who have reached the inner Dhammakāya. Together, these three elements allow a million gathered people to reach the inner Triple Gem simply by closing their eyes.

From the perfection of wisdom to the perfection of diligence

Wisdom brings understanding, giving rise to vision; as vision deepens, inspiration follows, and once inspiration is strong enough, we resolve to change our life. From the perfection of wisdom, we move into the perfection of diligence, propelled forward by wisdom's push toward transformation — diligence becomes the driving force pushing us onward toward our destination. Let us leave it here for now and sit in meditation, connecting the thread of merit and treasure. Listening to Dhamma lets the stream of merit flow, cultivating freedom through wisdom, but we also need freedom of heart to cleanse defilement — through stilling and gathering the mind.