พระอาจารย์อธิบายกลไกของ “วงจรธรรมชาติ” ที่ประกอบด้วยสสาร คลื่น และพลังงาน พร้อมไล่เรียงลำดับศรัทธาตั้งแต่การเปิดใจไปจนถึงศรัทธาที่แท้จริง อธิบายว่าเหตุใดผลบุญจึงไม่แปรผันตรงกับจำนวนที่ให้ และคลี่คลายปฏิจจสมุปบาทธรรมผ่านเรื่องเล่าของชายผู้ถูกเพื่อนชวนไปดื่ม ปิดท้ายด้วยเจตสิก 52 ดวงอันเป็นรากฐานสำคัญของการปฏิบัติธรรมPhra Ajarn lays out the mechanics of a “natural circuit” made of matter, wave, and energy, then traces the stages of faith from simply opening the mind to true faith itself. He explains why the return on merit is not proportional to what is given, unpacks dependent origination through the story of a man torn between his friends and his family, and closes with the 52 mental factors (cetasika) that underlie all meditation practice.
Everything we have studied so far is good — it gives us a foundation — but to go further we need more information. Phra Ajarn has gathered the key points needed for the next level, presenting the material in a way we have not learned it before.
Yesterday's topic was the “circuit”. Think of an electrical or electronic circuit: it is built from a circuit board holding the electronics, and the current of power flowing through it — just three parts. The circuit of is similar, made of just three parts: matter (or form), wave, and energy.
The diagram used may have one small error: it labels one circle “system”, when that circle is really only the form. The whole picture together is what should be called the system — not one part. There is matter or form, there is wave, and there is energy; all three together are the natural system.
A natural system must have a purpose. Wholesome states () have their own purpose: to benefit people and all beings, to give them right and understanding, and to bring about happiness and the fulfillment of good wishes — these are all goals of kusala. Unwholesome states () aim the opposite way, and the neutral (abyakata) wants neither good nor bad. That is the purpose driving each side.
Once there is a purpose, there must be a process. Each process carries its own objective, pushing the system forward step by step.
The Process of Sitting Meditation: From Suffering and Drowsiness to Inner Light
Take sitting meditation as an example. The first process akusala runs is suffering — enough that some people cannot sit at all, while others can bear it and move past that stage. Next comes drowsiness and sleepiness; once that is overcome, control and understanding begin to arise, and one is freed from sleepiness — though small disturbances remain, one can now perceive the inner states within.
The next stage is still dim and clouded, though the drowsiness is gone. Then light appears. From light comes a bright point; from the bright point comes a sphere that is both clear and bright. From there, the clear bright sphere becomes something one can shrink, expand, move forward and back, left and right, and finally rest at , . This is how the process unfolds, stage by stage.
Each stage has its own mechanism, made of components — like a clock, which needs gears meshing together to move. And crucially, every mechanism needs a driving force: energy. For side, that force is the energy of . This is exactly why Phra Ajarn had to first teach what merit actually is — without that, we could not understand this essential factor.
What Is Dhamma, and Why Can It Only Arise in the Present Moment
Next comes the study of Dhamma itself. If asked what Dhamma is, we must be able to answer. Looking at the circuit of the system, Dhamma is the wave that can induce energy. Dhamma is every thought and feeling that arises — all of it is Dhamma, and it can arise in only one place: the mind. It arises nowhere else; it always begins at the mind.
When does Dhamma arise? It arises in every present moment. We can only come to know Dhamma by entering each present moment — nowhere else. The knowledge and information we call Dhamma is really data gathered from past experience; it is Dhamma, yes, but only in the sense of being experience collected into information. The living state of Dhamma itself can only be met in the present — never in the past, which is now only information, and never in the future, which has not yet arrived and can only be imagined. Only the present is where we can actually meet Dhamma face to face.
Why is this so? Because of time: the three natural forces are constantly racing to seize each present moment, overlaying either Dhamma or its opposite onto our minds. In each present moment we experience whatever state is acting upon us at that instant.
The Law of Kamma and the Law of the Three Characteristics
It is the Law of the Three Characteristics (anicca--anatta) that the three natural forces rely on to act. We can only meet and resolve our obstacles and problems within each present moment. The Law of Kamma itself cannot be changed — once a kammic result has formed, we can only receive it. But the Law of the Three Characteristics takes over from there, and whether the outcome becomes heavier or lighter depends on which side takes charge: if akusala dominates the present moment, the result grows heavier; but if kusala becomes the ruling force in that present moment, heavy can turn light, light can disappear entirely, and bad can even turn to good — all through the power of kusala acting in the present.
Phra Ajarn reminded the group that if anything is unclear while he explains, we should ask rather than let it pass — because if we let it pass, he will assume we understood and move on to more complex material, making it harder to keep up if the foundation isn't solid. Dhamma has many layers, each one deeper than the last, which is why coming to learn the same material again and again reveals different, deeper layers of meaning each time. Some people say “I heard it, I understand it” — but they have only grasped the surface level; the deeper layers remain ungrasped.
The Stages of Faith: Openness, Regard, Respect, Devotion, and Faith
Phra Ajarn illustrated this deeper layer of meaning with the example of (saddhā), which means belief. The starting point of faith requires first opening the mind to accept — without that openness, the mind stays closed, and nothing can proceed. For example: suppose today a certain monk comes to teach Dhamma, and we refuse — we won't listen, won't go — because we do not accept him; then we simply won't go and won't listen. So we must first open our minds to accept, and try listening. If it is kusala, it will encourage openness; if it is akusala, it will steer us toward closing our minds and refusing.
Once we accept and go to listen, we receive one piece of good information, then two, three, four, five — and we hold all of it in our hearts because it is impressive. Keeping good information stored in the heart like this is what we call “regard” (nap-tue) — treasuring good qualities in the mind so they can be used to transform ourselves toward the wholesome. This acceptance is the cause that leads to something more refined: regard. When we reflect repeatedly on this state of regard, merit flows in and refines this sphere of regard until it becomes clear and bright enough to pass into an even more refined sphere, called the “sphere of respect” (from the word kārava, meaning reverence).
Respect differs from regard. For example, we may hold someone in regard for their good qualities, but later a conflict arises. The voice of kusala will say: don't hold it against them, they still have such-and-such good qualities — kusala uses the good qualities we once stored in our hearts to release us from the grip of akusala. Respect, on the other hand, is an automatic system, both internal and external. For instance, if we are sitting and a revered teacher walks in, we will automatically kneel and press our palms together without even thinking.
Phra Ajarn recalled that as a teenager, before ordaining, he used to ride the bus with his knee propped up on the seat back, watching the scenery pass by. As the bus went past the market near Bang Lak, where there was a temple, he happened to glance over and see a monk walking out. The moment he saw the monk, his leg dropped from the seat back and he sat up properly and respectfully — even though he was still outside the bus. This is the automatic nature of respect.
Respect produces not only automatic physical behavior but automatic mental behavior too. When we listen to Dhamma with respect, focusing on it with respect, an inner automatic system processes the 84,000 sections of the Dhamma to guide us toward deeper understanding — this is the inner automatic process at work.
To illustrate the difference between regard and respect: consider whether we regard or respect our parents. If we merely regard them, we know only that they gave us life and raised us; when they scold us, sometimes we accept it, sometimes we don't and argue back. But with true respect, we would never dare argue, whether our parents are right or wrong — this is the difference in between the two. We cannot blame only the child; parents also play a part in whether their conduct has elevated the child's heart to that higher state. If parents live with genuine virtue, uplifting their child's heart, the child will not dare argue. Some children are born with this virtue already, carried over from past lives, holding deep respect from the start — no matter how their parents scold them, they never argue or get angry, and instead comfort their parents afterward, promising not to repeat the mistake. This is the virtue of respect.
Beyond respect — a sphere brighter than regard — lies an even brighter sphere called “devotion” (leuamsai). The analogy is a piece of wood turned round on a lathe, sanded with sandpaper, then polished with coconut husk until the surface becomes smooth and lustrous. Placed in a dark room with a lit candle or incense, the light reflects off that polished surface — this is mere luster. But a clear crystal sphere, smooth, fine, and transparent within, can reflect light all around itself. This is devotion: whoever's mind holds this quality can absorb the virtues of those around them into their own heart without needing to be taught, so long as the surrounding environment is good. Devotion is like the moon: though it has no light of its own, it can take in the sun's light and use it to benefit both itself and others.
Higher still than devotion is “faith” (saddhā) itself, which sits at the very center of respect — an even more refined sphere than devotion. Faith is like the sun, which has light of its own; it needs no one to teach it, because it can connect directly with and draw on that knowledge to guide and teach itself, while inducing pure energy that drives the person toward wholesome action in life. Such a person is carried forward morning, noon, and evening, toward continual growth.
Faith is belief grounded in reason — the opposite of superstition, which has no basis in reason. Anyone who holds this kind of faith, even if lost in a forest or trapped in a cave or on an island, can find a way out through faith — whether they are Christian, Muslim, Hindu, or Buddhist, because faith itself is a universal sphere of Dhamma. What matters is holding faith — even faith in something that does not literally exist, so long as it is a goodness capable of elevating the mind. This sphere of faith is a clear, bright, round sphere; once established, its inner qualities work to benefit the person, leading them toward a way out, a way to survive, a safe and reasonable path forward.
This is the detail behind the example, showing how deep and layered the meaning of Dhamma truly is. If we simply say “I heard it, I understand it,” that is as far as our understanding will ever go.
Why the Return on Merit Isn't Proportional to What Is Given
Phra Ajarn offered another analogy: planting a mango tree. When we plant it, we don't get fruit right away — the tree must grow to maturity first before it flowers and bears fruit. And it doesn't bear just a single fruit, or fruit in a single season; once it starts, it bears fruit heavily every season, for many seasons to come, for what could be a hundred years before it is finished. This is only an illustration to help us picture it — in reality, the effect may be even greater, and its consequences more severe.
The same applies to making merit. If we give only one baht and fifty satang, will we get back exactly one baht fifty in return? No — it depends on faith. If it worked by simple logic, the wealthy who give more would always receive more. But a poor person who gives their one baht fifty — all they have — with genuine faith, can produce an equally immense result. So there is no need to feel we must give as much as others; we should give within our own full capacity, grounded in reality, without letting akusala mislead us into a wrong view.
We can only do what we are able to do. Can a wealthy person give away everything they own? They can't — they wouldn't dare. But a poor person can, and often does, dare to give everything, because being poor is already familiar to them. Giving everything means entrusting one's life entirely to the religion.
Entrusting Life to the Religion: Gratitude and Relying on the Empowered
We entrust our wealth to the religion, entrust our very life to it, asking it to look after the foundation of our lives. Wholesome Dhamma teaches gratitude — when we support the religion, the religion in turn supports us, because it teaches the principle of recognizing kindness and repaying it. Instead of spending money on eating out, entertainment, and amusement, we set that aside and use it to support the religion instead, living simply — others may have this and that, but what we have is enough, and the rest goes to support the religion or those in hardship and need. When our own turn for hardship comes, the world will repay us in kind and keep us from falling into ruin. Those who support the needy will likewise never fall into ruin themselves, because this merit draws people in to look after and help them.
A student asked whether even a small act of generosity could still produce very different results in one's life, making a person more mindful. Phra Ajarn confirmed this is correct — and the same is true of demerit. Killing a living being or a person leads to hell, where one dies and is reborn to die again for countless lifetimes — far from worth it. Merit and demerit each exist on two “sides”: one on our own life timeline, and one in a bank of accumulated merit elsewhere. If our mind is wholesome, it draws merit from that bank to support us on our own timeline, either lessening karmic results or increasing our store of merit.
Merit placed on our life's timeline is set from the moment we are conceived in our parents' womb — a completed blueprint set into our body, into our DNA. But on the timeline of life, it is kept as this same blueprint inside . What has already been placed on the timeline cannot be changed — we can only wait to receive its result. But we can still lighten its weight. Since we cannot avoid receiving the result, we need help, and only kusala can help us, because kusala is looked after by the Triple Gem and by Nibbāna, ready to assist us if we remain within its system, which has enough power to help. We must rely on someone with sufficient power to help us — this could be a teacher or master, if we recognize their virtue is sufficient. When we bring such a teacher to mind, we appear bright and clear within them, and they appear bright and clear within us; their system then activates, drawing merit in to purify our impurities, turning heavy into light, light into gone — so that even in death, we go to a good place.
Conscious Mind, Subconscious Mind, and Latent Tendencies
A student asked about the conscious and subconscious mind in Dhamma terms. Phra Ajarn explained that the conscious mind is () itself, while the subconscious is the layer working in the background, overlapping with it — an connected to the “inner knower” belonging to whatever dimension we currently occupy. The knower within that dimension can help us only within the limits of that dimension's own knowledge and capability. To reach a more powerful knower, we must refine the mind further, freeing it from this dimension to enter a subtler one — and the finer that dimension becomes, the more capable and powerful who can help us.
The subconscious has two sides. One side, of higher quality than the human body, belongs to the wholesome — subtle bodies, celestial bodies, refined celestial bodies, brahma bodies, and refined brahma bodies — and when these overlay our mind, they elevate it to something nobler and finer. The other side, of lower quality than the human body, belongs to — hell beings, hungry ghosts, and animals, saturated with , hatred, and delusion, which possess the mind from below.
Latent tendencies (anusaya) are the residues of unwholesome states lying dormant within us, stirring up murkiness through greed, hatred, and delusion — which is to say, the same hell beings, hungry ghosts, and animal states mentioned above. The opposite of latent tendencies is the path and its fruit (magga-phala) — giving, moral discipline, and meditation — which lead to through freedom of mind and freedom through wisdom ( and ).
Dr. Masaru Emoto's Research: The Mind's Effect on All Things
The images shown came from the research of Dr. Masaru Emoto, which demonstrated that the mind affects all things. Water was dropped onto microscope slides, frozen in a freezer, and then examined under a microscope for the crystal patterns that formed. Water spoken to with the word “devil” produced a dark, blob-like image. Water spoken to with “thank you” produced a beautiful crystal. Water that was insulted and called stupid appeared to churn and boil. Water given words of love and unity also formed beautiful crystals, while water told “I will kill you” produced a distorted, ugly shape — showing that speaking to water genuinely affects its structure.
Since the human body is roughly 80 percent water, living constantly surrounded by harsh words and negative feelings will inevitably affect in the same way.
Following on from this, a teacher had students run an experiment: bags of rice were tied at either end of a staircase, one labeled to receive expressions of love, the other expressions of disgust. Before long, the rice that received disgust developed black mold, while the rice that received kindness stayed normal. This shows the human mind's effect on nature itself. A wave induces energy — a harmful wave draws in harmful energy, a wholesome wave draws in the energy of merit.
Even the smallest living things — whether born of moisture (saṃsedaja) or arising spontaneously (opapātika) — form out of whatever has been left to ferment, released by these waves; whether the resulting bacteria are beneficial or harmful depends on the energy behind them.
Dependent Origination, Through the Story of a Man Tempted by His Friends
Dependent origination (paṭiccasamuppāda) concerns the mechanism of the system, and is one of the more difficult subjects in Buddhism. Phra Ajarn illustrated it through the story of a man who had promised his wife that on Sunday, his day off, he would stay home and play with their child. When the day came, he kept his word and stayed home with the child. Late in the afternoon, a friend pulled up outside, honking the horn, and peered in, signaling an invitation to go out drinking. The man hesitated. One voice inside told him not to disappoint his friend, who had gone to the trouble of inviting him; another voice said no — he had promised his wife and child he would stay home. He now found himself in the position of a judge, with a lawyer for his friend and a lawyer for his wife and child each presenting arguments. Whichever lawyer was more skilled would win.
The friend's lawyer brought up old memories of good times they had shared, stirring up craving and desire by replaying the atmosphere of past fun and camaraderie. The family's lawyer brought up images from both the past and present. But the friend's lawyer usually won anyway, arguing that it only happens once in a while, and that he would come right back afterward — nothing would really change.
At the point where this craving is stirred to its absolute peak — like the summit of a mountain — Phra Ajarn warned that this is the most dangerous moment for anyone in a relationship. If this peak is reached, kusala must spend a great deal of merit to hold the relationship together and prevent separation, because if akusala forces a breakup, the other party may be driven to suicide. And if that person's karmic history includes having caused someone else's death before, they are unlikely to survive it. Love, in this sense, is something to be wary of. Kusala must expend great merit just to hold the situation steady — at the very least, gradually easing the distorted craving back down, even though there is no telling how long that might take; merit must keep being spent to sustain it.
Returning to the story: once craving has been stirred up to the point of forcing a decision, the next stage is clinging (upādāna) — the point where, once craving exists, a side must be chosen. Making that decision is always difficult, because the moment a decision is made, all three natural forces compete for it, since whoever wins gets to manage that stretch of time. If we choose the unwholesome path, akusala takes over the body, feeling, mind, and s as the manager; if we choose the wholesome path, kusala takes over instead.
Once the man decides to go with his friend, a state of becoming () arises to receive that decision — like a burst of black particles spreading in all directions, invisible to the human eye but visible through the Dhamma-eye of the (a phrase originally spoken by the revered elder monk, in his account of “Kindergarten in a Dream”). A dark realm of becoming appears, along with an inner dark body — a hell being, hungry ghost, or animal state. Once this state of becoming appears, it compels him to lie to his wife and child, claiming his boss urgently needs him at work. Akusala always presses and pushes for urgency, because it does not want to give any time for reflection, fearing that merit might find an opening — so it drives confusion and haste, preventing mindfulness from taking hold.
Demerit flows continuously from the very first step out the door, all the way through joining the drinking session, until — as the revered elder monk once put it — he has “indulged himself fully and completely,” and can go no further, bidding his friends goodbye. This marks the appearance of aging and death in the cycle. Once this unwholesome episode is complete, it leaves behind a finished blueprint of demerit as its result, sealed into a completed “sphere of demerit” — containing a tainted current of demerit that flows in together with a state of suffering, with ruin at its center, ready to destroy wealth, virtues, followers, honor, fame, happiness, and even the path and fruit of Nibbāna. All of this is stored within the completed sphere of demerit, together with its blueprint, and kept within the sphere of Dhamma, awaiting placement on the near or distant timeline of life. When the time comes for it to bear fruit, it will unfold exactly according to the blueprint held within that sphere of demerit.
Within this same cycle, we can transform the point of (avijjā) into mindfulness — this shifts the whole process onto the wholesome path, turning volitional formations (saṅkhāra) into wisdom. Consciousness (viññāṇa) then leads to rebirth through form, taste, smell, and sound, out into the external world. Mind-and-matter (nāmarūpa) refers to everything around us, ourselves included — everything has its own name, which is why it is called nāma-rūpa. The six sense bases (saḷāyatana) are the instruments needed to perceive mind-and-matter; once these exist, contact (phassa) must follow, as external and internal sense bases meet; once contact occurs, feeling () must arise. From feeling, if mindfulness is present, wholesome desire (chanda) or follows; if craving (taṇhā) is present, it leads to clinging (upādāna) — though clinging can also take hold of something wholesome. From there, a state of becoming (bhava) arises to hold that particular state and activity of the moment. Birth (jāti) is the body that arises internally — it may be a subtle body, a celestial body, a refined celestial body, a brahma body, or a refined brahma body if wholesome, or a hell being, hungry ghost, or animal if unwholesome. This is .
The 52 Mental Factors: The Foundation of Meditation Practice
An important topic is the chart of the 52 mental factors (), which is directly relevant to our own meditation practice. Anyone who loves practicing Dhamma needs to understand this, because it allows practice to proceed with real understanding.
The first group consists of factors that arise with every single mind, wholesome or unwholesome alike — these are called cetasikas, the “moods” or qualities of the mind. The human mind itself is only one of 121 possible types of consciousness; the rest are either unwholesome or wholesome minds. But the cetasikas that arise with every mind number thirteen, split into an upper row of seven that always arises no matter which mind arises — wholesome, unwholesome, or neutral: contact (phassa), feeling (vedanā), perception (saññā), volition (cetanā), (ekaggatā), the life faculty (jīvitindriya), and attention (manasikāra). These seven appear every single time a mind arises.
The lower row arises only when deliberately cultivated: desire-to-act (chanda), initial application (vitakka), sustained application (vicāra), decision (adhimokkha), effort (viriya), and (pīti). For example, developing through meditation requires chanda, vitakka, vicāra, and viriya before rapture — a sense of fullness — can arise. This group can serve the wholesome, the unwholesome, or the neutral alike: applying vitakka and vicāra to something bad works the same way. Vitakka is lifting a thought into the mind and holding it there; vicāra is examining and reflecting on it; adhimokkha is fixing the mind firmly on it; viriya is the effort that keeps pushing forward without giving up; and pīti is the fullness of satisfaction that follows — whether from developing one's to the point of deep satisfaction, or even from mastering gambling to the point of becoming an expert poker player, which produces its own kind of satisfaction; the unwholesome side has its own version of chanda too — a delight in learning and honing such skills. Anything requiring progress in any direction draws on this lower row; the upper row, by contrast, simply runs through ordinary daily life without needing to be deliberately cultivated.
The second group belongs to the unwholesome side, with five clusters in total. The first is led by delusion (moha), including shamelessness (ahirika), fearlessness of wrongdoing (anottappa), and restlessness (uddhacca). The second is led by greed (lobha), including wrong view (diṭṭhi) and (māna). The third is led by hatred (dosa), including envy (issā) and (). The fourth consists of sloth (thīna) and torpor (middha). The fifth is led by doubt (vicikicchā). Delusion forms the underlying baseline present whenever any unwholesome mind arises — shamelessness and fearlessness of wrongdoing together with doubt — before branching further into greed (delight) or hatred (aversion), or remaining as sloth and doubt.
These factors serve to anchor the mind in place — like an office where the three natural forces take turns operating. The difference between a plain sensation and an “emotion”: tasting something sour, sweet, oily, or salty is an ordinary sensation that cannot anchor the mind. But an “emotion” built on that sensation can anchor the mind in place — giving enough time for energy to be induced and to bear its result.
The 25 Wholesome Mental Factors: The Mechanism That Draws In Merit
The third and most important group belongs to the wholesome side, with 25 factors in total. Nineteen of these — the “universal beautiful factors” — arise automatically the instant a wholesome mind arises, without needing to be deliberately cultivated at all, helping to induce merit immediately. They simply tend to be weak because we rarely make the effort to train them. Christians and Muslims tend to rely on the sphere of faith for this; Buddhists rely on the sphere of mindfulness, which connects to the sphere of wisdom, and from there faith itself becomes established.
When a wholesome mind arises, shame (hiri) and fear of wrongdoing (ottappa) appear — the opposite of the unwholesome shamelessness and fearlessness described earlier. There is also (alobha) — not delighting in what belongs to others — and non-hatred (adosa). But regarding one's own possessions, one should still take delight, because the subtle sphere of wealth resides at the center of the body; delighting in what is rightfully ours draws in the components and resources that support our life.
There is also the factor of mental balance (tatramajjhattatā), which keeps the mind steady and unmoved by whatever stimulates it, staying neutral. This connects to the teaching: “Monks, you should clearly discern body, feeling, mind, and mental objects, in order to remove (abhijjhā) and displeasure (domanassa).” Covetousness and displeasure are simply delight and aversion — corresponding directly to non-greed and non-hatred. Shame and fear of wrongdoing, meanwhile, correspond to moral discipline: not transgressing what is wrong.
Another set of factors brings to body and mind (passaddhi), lightness (lahutā), softness and freedom from coarseness (mudutā), fitness for work (kammaññatā) — everything working in balanced coordination — proficiency and agility (pāguññatā), and uprightness of body and mind (ujukatā), reflected in polite, proper conduct. All of these arise together with a wholesome mind — the instant kusala arises, all nineteen of these factors arise with it, especially the first seven, which form the foundation. The more continuously merit can be induced, the more clearly the remaining six pairs will function — depending entirely on how much one has trained and cultivated this awareness. Those who develop concentration but neglect wisdom tend to sink into the pleasant states of jhāna, purifying the mind alone, yet when asked about the Dhamma itself, they often cannot answer.
Walking Meditation — “Left Stepping, Right Stepping”: Why We Anchor the Mind's Position
During the afternoon practice session, there is walking meditation and sitting meditation practice. The reason we note “left stepping, right stepping” is that for merit to flow, the mind needs a fixed anchor point — wherever we place that anchor, merit will flow through that spot. If we anchor at the feet, merit flows through the feet. This is why teachers instruct practitioners to note “right stepping, left stepping” — so that merit flows continuously at that clearly defined point. If we walk without any anchor at all, we must ask ourselves: where, then, is merit supposed to flow? There must be a clear position, whether in the body or in the mind. If the anchor is in the mind, we can walk simply at ease, staying aware of that feeling of ease throughout — not letting the mind wander off into random, drifting thoughts without knowing what state it is even resting in. Staying with one particular state continuously builds up a mass of within that dimension; anchoring in a state of ease builds up a mass of purity within that same state of ease. Whatever Dhamma we set as our anchor becomes the foundation — but the moment the mind wanders off to another object, it keeps shifting from one thing to another, everything blending together, and no real accumulation of energy occurs.
Even a Wandering Mind During Meditation Is Not Wasted
Someone asked whether sitting with a constantly wandering mind means the time was wasted. Phra Ajarn answered that one could say so, but in truth demerit is still being used up along the way, since demerit itself is finite. Even without being directly purified, demerit still runs down over time. So even sitting with a wandering mind, once its underlying demerit-energy is finally spent, the wandering stops on its own, and concentration can then settle. This differs from deliberately going off to think about this or that with intention — that lies outside the wholesome system altogether. Sitting in meditation, by contrast, remains within the wholesome system the entire time; it is simply that leftover tainted demerit-energy still needs to run its course, releasing itself in ways that cause lapses of attention, drowsiness, or sleep, beyond our control — until that current is finally spent, at which point full, wakeful mindfulness returns and the wandering naturally disappears, allowing the sitting to continue.
Phra Ajarn added that the moment we bring merit and wholesomeness to mind, kusala arises immediately and draws merit in right away to help that activity succeed. All three natural forces are constantly seeking a share of our lives; the instant we think of something wholesome, kusala arrives and must bring merit flowing in at once to drive its own system forward — while akusala, in turn, rushes to bring demerit flowing in to compete, so as to prevent kusala from gaining any ground. Every side, therefore, is constantly racing against time.
Q&A: Where Does Merit Flowing Through the Seven Bases Finally Settle
Someone asked whether merit flowing through the seven bases of the body eventually comes to rest at one specific base. Phra Ajarn explained that merit must first be refined at whatever point has been set as the anchor, and only then is it stored within the sphere of Dhamma. When we enter that dimension at the anchored position, a bright point arises exactly there, becomes a clear sphere exactly there, and finally a clear, bright sphere appears — wherever the anchor is set, that is where it will remain. Only afterward do we train that sphere to shrink and expand, move forward and back, and eventually shift to wherever we wish. What matters is knowing how the sphere of the mind moves in and out — where the merit comes from and how it arises — rather than simply sitting and setting an anchor without understanding how merit actually comes to be.
Phra Ajarn closed by pointing to science: it has clearly shown that waves can induce and convert into energy, backed by precise equations. Good thoughts produce good energy; bad thoughts produce bad energy — try thinking negatively, again and again, all day, and notice clearly how it feels. This is simply science: waves of every kind can be converted into energy, which is why it can even be expressed as an equation. Thought and feeling are themselves a kind of wave; once converted into energy, that energy drives the whole system — including a direct effect on the physical body itself.