VIPASSANA BUDDHIST MEDITATION
THE SUNLUN WAY
[Translated Sermon by Sunlun Shin Vinaya]
This famous hall has heard many learned speakers present the subject of vipassana in many ways. It has heard the doctrinal approach to the subject. Vipassana is insight, the intuitive knowledge which realizes the truth of the impermanence (anicca), misery (dukkha) and impersonality (anatta) of all physical and mental phenomena of existence; that is of all living beings. The way to this intuitive knowledge is the way of the seven stages of purity (visuddhi)*:-
This hall has also heard a psychological approach to the subject. There have been references to consciousness, mind-functionings, depth psychology, space-time and other such concepts. It has even heard, I believe, a mathematical presentation of vipassana employing the techniques of modern algebra and topology. Since I am no doctrinalist and still less of a trained psychologist or mathematician, but only a practician of the vipassana method of Lord Buddha, it would be improper of me to overstep the bounds into those fields. I believe that my best contribution to the subject can be only in the field of practice.
Thus, I propose to take a practical approach to the subject before you this evening. I shall consider the matter from the point of view of the yogi, his propensities and inclinations, his encounters with the problems and difficulties of execution, his small concerns and clingings, and his subtle self-deceptions. While doing this, I shall attempt to weave in the teachings of the Sunlun Gu-Kyaung Sayadaw on the practice of vipassana to illustrate my points.
The first essential equipment of the yogi is a concentrated mind. For only a concentrated mind is a cleansed mind. And only the mind which is cleansed of the five hindrances (nivarana), namely the 1) sense-desire, 2) ill-will, 3) torpor, 4) restlessness and 5) doubts, can function properly to realize vipassana insight.
For the initiation of the cleansing process, the normal, everyday mind requires an object to grasp. These objects can be of two types: external to the body-mind system of the yogi or belonging to it. Those objects which are external to the yogi belong to the environment, such as kasina discs, corpses, or the food which he eats daily. Those objects which belong to the body-mind organization of the yogi are his body and his thoughts. Any of these can be taken as an object of meditation to establish concentration.
Let us take an exercise, the in-breathing and out-breathing, (anapana). It is said to be a suitable exercise for all types of personalities. If a man practises mindfulness of respiration, he attains to a peaceful life. He causes evil and demeritorious states to be overcome. His body and mind do not tremble. He fulfils the four foundations of mindfulness (satipathana), the seven enlightenment factors (bojjhanga), and realizes wisdom (panna) and liberation (vimutti). Anapana has been practised by the Blessed One, Lord Buddha. Furthermore, anapana is said to be unadulterated, not requiring addition to make it complete. This anapana exercise may be practised in the samatha way (details in the last chapter) or performed so as to realize vipassana. Let us first use this in-breathing and out-breathing exercise to obtain vipassana (insight).
Breathe in and out. As the breath goes in and out, it will touch the nose tip or upper lip or some other place within that region. Fix the mind on the point of touch of breath. Be aware of the touch. Do not count, do not know the degree of length, do not follow the breath in and out. The method where the touch alone is taken in its bareness performs the vipassana practice.
Yet even this practice can be adulterated with samatha. If instead of being aware of the touch in its bare actuality, if instead of guarding this awareness with mindfulness the yogi makes a mental note of it; then for that moment, he has slipped into the old habit of forming a concept or an idea and therefore he practises samatha instead of the intended vipassana.
Mental noting tends to take place at a much slower pace than the actual processes of phenomena. Thus, instead of being able to take these processes as they are, it tends to keep slipping into a past where the processes are reconstructed by an intervening reasoning mind. To be able to keep up with the natural processes, the yogi only needs to be mindful. This is not difficult to perform. The initial requirement is awareness. Be aware of the touch or sensation or mental phenomenon. Then, ward and watch this awareness with mindfulness (sati). When the awareness is guarded with mindfulness, thoughts are locked out; they cannot intrude. No opportunity is offered for the formation of concepts, images or ideas. Thereby, the processes are got at directly in the very moment of occurrence, as they are in themselves, without the distortion of thought. This is true practice.
Thoughts always tend to intrude. Ideas and images stand just beyond the threshold, ready to enter at the least weakening of mindfulness. The only way to keep up with the processes, to be mindful of them, is to exercise vigilance through a rigour of effort. That is why in a motto, the Sunlun Gu-Kyaung Sayadaw said: “Be rigorously mindful of the awareness of touch.”
May I introduce here a brief biography of the Sunlun Gu-Kyaung Sayadaw.
The Sunlun Gu-Kyaung Sayadaw was so named because he came from the cave monasteries of Sunlun Village near Myingyan in middle Burma. He was born in 1878 and was named Maung Kyaw Din. He was sent to a monastery school but he did not learn much there. It is said that he did not even get to the last verse of the Maha Mangala Sutta, a discourse by the Buddha on the nature of Auspiciousness, which was taught in the lowest form at school. At the age of 15, he entered employment as an office boy in the district commissioner’s office at Myingyan. He married Ma Shwe Yi of the same village. At the age of 30, he resigned from his post and returned to his native village to become a farmer.
There, at his village, he found that his fields prospered while other fields failed. In 1919, there was an epidemic. U Kyaw Din’s fields were still prospering. There is a belief among Burmese village people that if one’s worldly possessions rose rapidly, then one would die soon. Anxious because of his rising prosperity, U Kyaw Din consulted an astrologer. He was told that a two-legged being would soon leave his house. This was tantamount to saying that he would die.
In great fear U Kyaw Din decided to accomplish one great act of charity. He erected a pavilion in front of his house and invited people to meals for three days. On the third day, a mill clerk named U Ba San turned up uninvited at the feast. He began to converse about the practice of vipassana. On hearing these words, U Kyaw Din became greatly affected. He could not sleep that night. He felt that he wanted to undertake the practice, but was afraid to mention his wish because of his lack of knowledge of scriptural texts
The next day, he asked U Ba San whether a man ignorant of the texts could undertake the practice. U Ba San replied that the practice of vipassana did not require doctrinal knowledge but only deep interest and assiduity. He told U Kyaw Din to practise in-breathing and out-breathing. So from that day, whenever he could find the time, U Kyaw Din would breathe in and breathe out. One day he met a friend, U Shwe Loke, who told him that breathing in and out alone was not sufficient; he also had to be aware of the touch of breath on nostril tip.
U Kyaw Din practised awareness of the touch of breath. Then as his practice became more intense, he tried to be aware not only of the touch of breath, but also of the touch of his hand on the handle of the knife as he chopped corn cobs, the touch of rope on the hand as he drew water, the touch of his feet on the ground as he walked. He tried to be aware of touch in everything he did.
As he tended his cattle, he would sit under a tree and practise mindfulness of breathing. During the practice, he began to see coloured lights and geometrical patterns. He did not know what they were, but felt that they were the fruits of practice. This greatly encouraged him and he began to practise more assiduously. With more intensive practice, sensations were sometimes intensely unpleasant. But they did not deter him. He believed that they were the fruits of the practice and that if he desired to win greater fruit, he would have to overcome and get beyond them. Therefore, he generated more energy and developed a more rigorous mindfulness until he overcame the unpleasant sensations and passed beyond to the higher stages of the practice.
Endeavouring in this zealous manner, U Kyaw Din attained the stage of sotapanna in mid-1920. The next month, he won the second stage, the sakadagami. In the third month, he won the third stage, the anagami, the Non-Returner. Weary of motley wear, he asked permission from his wife to let him become a monk. After much resistance, the wife agreed. But even then, she asked him to sow a final crop of peas before he left. U Kyaw Din set out for the fields. But even as he was broadcasting the seeds, he felt the great urge to renounce the world. So setting his cattle free, he put the yoke up against a tree and going to the village monastery, he begged the monk there to accept him as a novice in the Order. He next betook himself to the caves nearby and practised diligently until in October, 1920, he attained the final stage, the arahat.
His achievement became known among the monks and many came to test him. Though he was a barely literate man, his answers satisfied even the most learned monks. Very often they disagreed with his replies, but when his answers were checked against the books, they found many important passages in the Canon support his statements. Many learned monks from various parts of the country went to practise mindfulness under him, and one very learned monk, the Nyaunglun Sayadaw, also became an arahat after intense practice.
When Sunlun Gu-Kyaung Sayadaw’s achievement became known, many distinguished persons visited and worshipped him. The Venerable U Lokanatha, the renowned Italian monk, visited him and later declared: “I have visited Myingyan in Middle Burma and worshipped the Sunlun Gu-Kyaung Sayadaw. His teachings and his replies to my many questions, his disposition and deportment leave me with no doubt that he is truly what he is known to be, that is, an arahat.”
Sunlun Gu-Kyaung Sayadaw performed the act of paranibbana in 1952. His remains did not decompose but remained intact and exuded a most pleasant odour. To this day, they may be seen and worshipped in Myingyan Town.
Sunlun Gu-Kyaung Sayadaw was an intrinsically honest man, laconic and precise in speech, and possessed of great strength and determination. Photographs show him to be a sturdily built man. They reveal his steady gaze, clear eyes and firmly set jaws. Above all, one can see in these photographs that he possessed great daring, a quality which is a concomitant attribute of the true arahat.
“Be rigorously mindful,” Sunlun Gu-Kyaung Sayadaw said. He emphasized rigorousness as an essential element because he understood the yogi. The yogi is much inclined to sit loosely and to meditate in a relaxed, leisurely way. He tends to be reflective and considerate. Reflective is in the sense of reflecting and thinking about the task to be done rather than doing it. Considerate is in the sense of sympathizing with himself, taking great care to see that he is neither exerted nor hurt. The yogi has a great love for himself and therefore prefers to let his thoughts run away with him, to drift rather than to pull himself together. To pull himself together needs exertion and that is anathema to the yogi. That is why when he is told to breathe harder, he is ready to quote chapter and verse to prove that he does not need to exert himself. Perhaps he takes a few lines from the Vimutti-magga, a discourse on the ‘Path to liberation’, and says: “The yogi should not essay too strenuously. If he attempts too strenuously, he will become restless.”
This statement is true. The yogi who strives too strenuously will become restless. But why does he become restless? It is because instead of being mindful of touch or sensation, the yogi has his mind on the effort he is making. The effort should not be allowed to draw the attention away from the object of meditation.
To keep the attention on the object and yet to generate effort, the yogi should first make sure that the attention is fixed on the object. When the object has been grasped with full awareness, and this awareness guarded with mindfulness, the yogi should step up the effort. When he proceeds in this manner, he will find that the generated effort serves to fix the attention more on the object instead of distracting it away onto the effort itself. Furthermore, a greater intentness of the mind has been developed by the increased effort.
The full text of the above quotation from the Vimutti-magga in fact reads thus: “He, the yogi, should be mindful and should not let the mind be distracted. He should not essay too strenuously nor too laxly. If he essays too laxly, he will fall into rigidity and torpor. If he essays too strenuously, he will become restless.” This means then, that the effort should be just enough for the purpose of mindfulness and knowledge. But how much is enough? I think it was William Blake who said this: “One never knows what is enough until one knows what is more than enough.”
A measure of what is enough may perhaps be supplied by the words of Lord Buddha when he spoke on how a monk should endeavour. “Monks, if his turban or hair were on fire, he would make an intense desire, effort, endeavour, exertion, struggle, mindfulness and attentiveness to extinguish the fire. So also, an intense desire, effort, endeavour, exertion, struggle, mindfulness and attentiveness is to be made by him so as to give up every evil and wrong state.”
Because he knew how much effort was required, because he was familiar with the propensity to slackness on the part of the yogi, the Sunlun Gu-Kyaung Sayadaw instructed: “Be rigorously mindful.” To be mindful rigorously is to mobilize all of one’s resources and to grasp the processes as they are, without thinking or reflecting. Rigourousness calls forth the element of viriya, effort. It is samma vayamo, right effort, which is one component of the Noble Eightfold Path.
Another inclination of the yogi is to fidget. He likes to scratch, to shift, or if he is breathing he likes to stop, then start and stop again. These are signs of distraction. These indicate that mindfulness has not been thoroughly established. To remind the yogi that the distraction is to be avoided and the agitation stilled, Sunlun Gu-Kyaung Sayadaw instructed: “Do not scratch when itched, nor shift when cramped, nor pause when tired.” He required the yogi who feels the itch, cramp or tiredness to breathe harder if he is breathing, or to plunge the mind deeper into the sensation if he is watching the sensation, and thereby, with increased attention to the performance of the task, to develop intense mindfulness.
Visuddhi-magga, a discourse on the ‘Path of Purification’, says that by getting up and so disturbing the posture, the meditation has to be started anew. The yogi who sits down to meditate, then an hour later gets up to walk away the sensations of sitting, then another hour later sits down to think away the sensations of walking, keeps disturbing the posture. Whatever sensation that arises in the sitting posture has to be watched in the sitting posture until it has phased itself out. Whatever sensation that arises in the standing posture has to be watched in the standing posture until it has phased itself out.
Remaining still with attention riveted to the awareness to touch or sensation calls forth the element of sati, mindfulness. It is samma sati, right mindfulness, another component of the Noble Eightfold Path.
There is a third behaviour characteristic of the yogi. After the lower hindrances (nivarana) have been removed, lights, colours and geometrical patterns appear to the yogi. On the one hand, there is the fascination of the yogi for these things which have never appeared to him like this before. On the other hand, these lights, colours and patterns are attractive. Because of these two forces, the yogi begins to turn his attention to the lights and patterns, he gazes on them, he dwells in them. And with this turning away from the object of meditation, he abandons his original purpose.
In like manner, after a period of practice, when the yogi has cleansed his mind somewhat, he will begin to experience a measure of calm and tranquility. Since he has never before experienced such peace of mind, he thinks that this is the best fruit of the practice. Because of this appreciation of the experience, and because the calm and tranquility attained is attractive in itself, the yogi begins to dwell in it, to savour the calmness to the full. He likes to sink in the sense of peace and hates to put forth the necessary effort to get back again onto the right path.
Sunlun Gu-Kyaung Sayadaw illustrated this with a local simile. Myingyan river beach is a stretch of sand a mile wide. A traveller to the river finds the sand exceedingly hot beneath his feet under the raging noonday sun. On the way, he comes to a tree. He decides to rest in its shade for a moment. But when that moment has passed, he finds that he cannot urge himself to get up to move out of that cool shade into the heat which rages above and beneath him. So he continues to dwell in the shade. But will this ever help him to reach the riverside? The destination can be reached only if he steps out again into the heat and urges his body forward. That is why the meditation masters warn the vipassana yogi not to let himself be drawn by the minor calm and tranquility he finds along the way. There was once a yogi who habitually drifted into this area of tranquility and would not budge out of it. The Sunlun Gu-Kyaung Sayadaw said of him: “This man keeps lifting up the tail and patting the behind of the little iguana he has caught.” I hope the distinguished yogis will not be satisfied with a mere iguana.
With a further increase in the clarity and purity of the mind, the yogi sometimes becomes more perceptive to extra-sensual things. It is not the true divine sight and divine hearing that he attains, but it is a power somewhat similar to these. Because of this power, the yogi can see what others cannot see, he can hear what others cannot hear. People come to consult him and his predictions come true. He becomes a sort of a shaman. Thus he has degenerated from a vipassana yogi to a shaman. But after some time, as the distractions of the new vocation grow more varied and the practice of meditation becomes less intense, the answers turn out to be less and less accurate, and gradually the clients go away, never to return. The yogi is left with an interrupted practice.
Many are the occasions in which the yogi indulges in self-deception. Though he should practise intensively, he deceives himself that the goal of liberation can be won in a leisurely manner. Though he should sit still, he deceives himself that a slight shift or movement can do no harm. Perhaps he is right for the initial crude moments of the practice, but for the peak in each phase of practice, the smallest wavering of mindfulness can bring down the structure of meditation, and the edifice will need to be set up again. Since he can deceive himself in these matters of the body, how much more can he do it in the subtle mental matters?
A strong inclination for the yogi is to take the first signs of progress on the path to be signs indicating the higher stages. For instance, unpleasant sensation can snap abruptly. For one moment, there is the intense unpleasantness of the sensation; the next moment, it has gone, snuffed out, and in its place there is a deep sense of calm and quiet. The yogi often likes to believe that this is magga-phala, the post-mental functioning of the enlightenment knowledge. And he notches for himself one stage of the four ariya stages.
This wrong assignment of the phases of practice can be made also because the meditation master himself is not thoroughly versed in such matters, or because his instructions and the teachings in the books are not understood well. However it is, the yogi likes to classify himself as having attained at least one or two of the ariya stages. And with this thought in mind, he goes about seeking confirmation of his belief. And woe be the meditation master who, however gently and indirectly, makes his failings known to him. Sunlun Gu-Kyaung Sayadaw would never pass judgement on anyone, whether or not that yogi had really attained the said phase or stage. His only remark would be: “If it is so, it is so.” In any case, a true attainment would need no confirmation from another source. The yogi would know it himself. Likewise, a wrong sense of attainment would not need debunking; the yogi would realize it for himself.
The main danger of this form of self-deception is the wrong sense of achievement that it would give to the yogi. Satisfied with what he thinks has been his progress, he might lay off the practice and thus be stranded on the path without having gained any progress of real value.
There is one pet hate of the yogi, and that is unpleasant sensation. Let him face slight feelings of cramp, heat or muscular tension, and he will try to be mindful of it for some time. But give him the pain within the marrow of the bone, the burning sensation, the sharp excruciating pain along the limbs, and he will abandon them in a few minutes. As usual, he is ready with his excuses and the quotation of chapter and verse. Who says one must employ unpleasant sensation as an object of meditation, he wants to know. Cannot a yogi attain whatever is to be attained by working on pleasant sensation? Who says one should suffer so much? Is this not self-mortification?
The answer is that if a yogi is so well blessed with parami, which is the inherent quality of perfection of virtues developed and nurtured in one’s past lives (past perfection), to be a sukha-patipada, one who treads the pleasant path, one who can gain ariya knowledge without undergoing pain, then he can work on pleasant sensation. But for the overwhelming majority of us, as may be observed, there is no choice but to tread the path of unpleasant sensation, for we are dukkha-patipada.
Actually there should be no cause for regret. Unpleasant sensation is an efficacious object of meditation which takes the yogi steadily up the path to the attainment of the final goal. The very fact that the yogi does not normally like unpleasant sensation can be employed by him to establish a deeper and more intense mindfulness. Made to work with an object he does not like, he will remember to arouse the necessary zeal to overcome the unpleasant sensation. It is different with pleasant sensation. Because he likes it, he will tend to sink in it, to suffuse himself with its pleasantness without trying to be mindful of it. When he does that, the greed and lust that is latent in pleasant sensation will overwhelm him. The yogi will not be able to hold on to sensation as sensation, but sensation will carry him forward to originate the next link of desire, tanha, in the chain leading to further births.
It is as though a swimmer in a strong current were asked to grasp the bunch of flowers at the winning post. If he is swimming with the current and stretches out his hand to grasp the flowers and he misses, he will be carried beyond the point by the force of the current. If he is swimming against the current and misses when stretching out his hand to grasp the flowers, he will still be below them and will thus have an opportunity to try again consciously and deliberately. The swimmer with the current is like the yogi who employs pleasant sensation. If he is unable to be mindful of pleasant sensation, he will be carried beyond it into lobha, desire. The swimmer against the current is like the yogi who employs unpleasant sensation. If he is unable to be mindful of unpleasant sensation as it is in itself, he will still be conscious of it and will be able to summon up the energy and mindfulness to accomplish his mission.
Pleasant sensation is like a hidden enemy; it catches the yogi unaware. Unpleasant sensation is like a conspicuous foe; the yogi can recognize it and take corrective action so that anger, which is latent in unpleasant sensation, does not get an opportunity to rise. Between natural dislike of unpleasant sensation and a zealous effort to establish mindfulness, the yogi will neither immerse himself in it nor flinch from it. He will be able to detach himself completely from the unpleasant sensation, dwelling within the sensation, watching the sensation, without thinking any thought connected with the sensation. Unpleasant sensation serves as a firm hitch-post for the mind which inclines to wander. An unpleasant sensation will never deceive the yogi about the true nature of phenomena – unpleasantness (dukkha).
Also, there should be no cause for fear of unpleasant sensation. There are techniques to arouse a sufficient depth and intensity of mindfulness to overcome the infliction and hurt of unpleasant sensation. This sense of infliction is due to the identification of the yogi with the area of pain and the effect of unpleasant sensation. But when mindfulness has been established sufficiently to penetrate and be deeply engrossed in the sensation and be able to eliminate the identification with the notion of a personality, an “I”, which can be hurt, then unpleasant sensation becomes only an unpleasant sensation and no more a source of pain.
The ultimate purpose of vipassana meditation is to eliminate the illusive notion of “I”. A yogi has to chip at the notion of “I” again and again in these struggles with unpleasant sensation.
Let us say the unpleasant sensation rises. The yogi keeps mindful of it until the unpleasant sensation is consumed. Thereby, the cause is killed in the effect. It means, the causative karmic force (born out of past physical, verbal, mental deeds which are bad or unwholesome) manifests itself as unpleasant sensation. When this unpleasant sensation has been mindfully observed, followed and consumed till the end with intense concentration, the effect, the resultant of that unwholesome karmic deed has been eliminated. He does it again and again until with perfect proficiency, he finally manages to kill the cause in the cause, to end the cause in the cause. That means, he is able to put a stop on the causative unwholesome karmic deeds even before they rear their heads, even before they appear. This is anuppada-nirodha. Because of being able to end the cause in the cause, it can never again give rise to an effect (result of a karmic deed) which will only turn out to be another cause in the endless chain. This killing of the cause in the cause is magga, the Right Path. And it is because of this quality of efficacy in eliminating the false notion of “I”, Sunlun Gu-Kyaung Sayadaw stated: “The uncomfortable truly is the norm; the comfortable will set you all adrift on the currents of samsara.” Unpleasant sensation is the yogi’s internal enemy. Once the internal enemy can be overcome, the external sources of suffering (dukkha) cannot touch him any more.
After a period of ardent practice, there comes a moment when the true liberating knowledge is offered to the yogi. These moments come only to the very few. To arrive to this moment, the yogi must have completely perfected the establishment of mindfulness of the body, kaya-nupassana. He must have completely perfected the establishment of the foundation of mindfulness of the sensations, vedana-nupassana. This means that he must have perfectly overcome the unpleasant sensation. The unpleasant sensations are the greatest obstacles confronting the yogi in this progress along the path. This is where he keeps falling back. To overcome them, he needs to possess unflinching energy, resolve and intentness as well as the right technique. But unpleasant sensations can be both a road-block as well as a stepping-stone; they can be a trap-pit as well as a gold mine. They can equip the yogi with sufficient powers of concentration and mindfulness to deal with the subtle processes of the next phase, the establishment of mindfulness of consciousness, citta-nupassana.
When mindfulness of consciousness has been completed perfectly, he will be offered the task of establishing the foundations of mindfulness of mental objects and fundamental principle, dhamma-nupassana. Here comes that awful moment of truth. If the yogi has not perfectly established the mindfulness of the principles, then when liberating knowledge is offered to him, he will shy away from it, he will fail to grasp it. But if he has fully perfected the establishment of the four foundations of mindfulness (satipatthana), and he has fully acquired the seven factors of enlightenment (bojjhanga), then in that very moment of perfecting and acquiring these seven, there will arise in him, the true liberating knowledge, magga-nana.
The above behaviour characteristics are typical of the yogi. He is disinclined to endeavour ardently, is quick to fidget, eager to follow after lights and colours, prone to rest in areas of calm, ready to exaggerate minor successes, willing to misuse subsidiary power, liable to give himself the benefit of the doubt, afraid of unpleasant sensation, and terrified and clumsy when the real moment of truth is offered. We do not need to search for this yogi elsewhere, we are the prototype. It is we who would like to reap the benefits of meditation but are unwilling to sow the good seed; it is we who wish to gather the returns but do not wish to lay down the investment. We wish to talk ourselves to a goal which can only be reached by high endeavour; we wish to deceive ourselves into a situation which will permit the entry of only the perfectly truthful.
Does this mean then that the goal will forever be beyond our reach? That is not so. Where Sunlun Gu-Kyaung Sayadaw has trodden, we too can tread. We need only to follow his instructions faithfully. Sunlun Gu-Kyaung Sayadaw instructed us :
“Be rigorously mindful of the awareness of touch.”
We should be rigorously, ardently, intensively mindful.
“Do not rest when tired,
scratch when itched,
nor shift when cramped.”
We should keep our bodies and minds absolutely still and strive till the end.
“The uncomfortable truly is the norm; the comfortable will set us all adrift on the currents of samsara.”
We should endeavour to study unpleasant sensation in depth; only he who has tackled and overcome sensation fully well will see processes as they are.
We should generate a willing suspension of disbelief, exert that extra ounce of effort, and be rigorously mindful.
Have faith (saddha), perseverance (viriya) and mindfulness (sati) to purify ourselves, to overcome pain and grief, to reach the right path, to win Nibbana.
The seven stages of purity (visuddhi) are:
1. Purity of morality (sila-visuddhi)
2. Purity of mind (citta-visuddhi)
3. Purity of view, belief (ditthi-visuddhi)
4. Purity by overcoming all doubts (kankha-vitarana- visuddhi)
5. Purity of knowledge and insight (magga-magga-nana-daassana-visuddhi)
by discriminating what is the
right Path and what is not
6. Purity of knowledge and insight (patipada-nana-dassana-visuddhi)
that discerns the Path progress
It means the disciple clearly understands and follow the right Path, which is meant the nine levels of knowledge leading to the attainment of Noble Path (ariya magga). That is, from the final stage of the 4th level of knowledge (udaya-baya-nana) up to the 13th level of knowledge (anuloma-nana).
7. Purity of knowledge and insight (nana-dassana-visuddhi)
into the four supramundane
Noble (ariya) Truths and Fruition
Five hindrances (nivarana):
They are obstacles to any kind of mental development.
1. Sense-desire (kama chanda)
2. Ill-will (bya-pada)
3. Sloth and torpor (thina-middha)
4. Restlessness and worry (uddhacca kukkusa)
5. Doubts (vici kiccha)