In life, sacrifices are often necessary to achieve our goals. However, when making these sacrifices, it's crucial to consider whether the gains are truly valuable and priceless. If giving up something leads to something significantly more valuable, it's a wise choice. Sometimes, small sacrifices can lead to much greater rewards. Nevertheless, it's essential to strike a balance between what we're sacrificing and what we're gaining by reflecting wisely.
When considering what to renounce or give up, it's crucial to differentiate between viewing such action from a worldly (lokiya) standpoint or a supramundane (lokuttara) perspective, such as that of noble disciples. For instance, when contemplating the act of giving away one's possessions (dāna) from a worldly perspective, it might appear as a loss because the individual is parting with tangible belongings that they worked hard to possess because the gain (wholesome kamma) is not immediately observable. In this light, the act of dāna may be perceived solely as a forfeiture of worthy possessions. Nevertheless, individuals who adopt a lokuttara perspective like those of noble disciples, coupled with a correct comprehension of kamma and a proper understanding of the ownership of kamma (kamma-sakkattā, will regard such virtuous acts of renouncing one's possessions as deserving of merit. Despite the fact that the positive kamma generated by these actions isn't immediately evident, they possess the wisdom to recognise that these actions will yield fruitful outcomes in the future.
There are laypeople who faithfully observe the eight precepts either daily or on uposatha days. When observing these precepts, one is required to abstain from having dinner. As a result, some individuals might worry that skipping dinner will lead to physical fatigue, prompting them to break the precepts in order to eat. In such cases, they are essentially sacrificing the merits of uposatha observance for the sake of a meal. From a worldly perspective, it might seem reasonable to prioritise having dinner for better health and longevity over observing uposatha. However, noble disciples do not consider this action virtuous because it involves forsaking the meritorious value of uposatha for a mere meal. In their view, it's an exchange of something virtuous for something unworthy as the wholesome deeds gained from observing uposatha yields fruitful kammic results not in this very life but in the future existences to come, and ultimately, these wholesome kamma can provide one with conditions to realise Nibbāna.
During the time of the Buddha, in the household of Anathapindika, there was a servant who unknowingly ventured out to work that it was an uposatha day and failed to have lunch before noon. Upon returning to his master's residence in the evening, he sat down at the dining table and invited others to join him for dinner. To his surprise, he discovered that everyone in the household was observing uposatha, and only a modest portion of food had been prepared for him, assuming that he would not be observing uposatha. Realising the situation, he promptly sought guidance from Anathapindika whether he could still observe uposatha. Anathapindika affirmed that he could indeed continue to uphold the eight precepts for the remainder of the evening. The servant, filled with joy, willingly adhered to the eight precepts. However, as he had not consumed any meals during the daytime, he suffered from stomach distress throughout the night. Despite having the opportunity to break the precepts and alleviate his ailment by eating, he resolved to uphold the uposatha observance with unwavering determination, and endured physical discomfort and pain. Ultimately, due to the severity of his illness, the servant passed away, but his unwavering commitment to virtuous actions led to his rebirth as a powerful deva in the earth-realm. This narrative serves as a striking illustration of the resolute determination exhibited by disciples who prioritise the worth and significance of upholding precepts above their own lives. This is the kind of unwavering resolve noble disciples exhibit even when confronted with the choice either breaking precepts or saving their own lives. This choice, when assessed from a worldly (lokiya) perspective, may seem foolish and unjustified because worldly perspectives, decisions, and assessments of gains and losses primarily revolve around immediate, tangible, and visible outcomes. They often lack consideration for the broader, long-term perspective encompassing the entirety of saṃsāra and kammic results.
During one of his past lives as a Bodhisatta, the Buddha was known as Kanna and was born into a family of great generational wealth. On a particular day, he opened the family's treasure vault and perused a list of possessions that had been accumulated over seven previous generations. As he examined these belongings, he reflected upon the fact that all these material possessions, acquired through the toil of his ancestors, were left behind by each generation as they passed away. None of these tangible possessions could accompany them beyond this life. This contemplation led Kanna to ask himself a profound question: "What should I carry forward from this life into my next existence, rather than clinging to these possessions and this transient body, knowing that I too will one day pass away?" Through wise reflection, he found no inherent value and essence in these worldly possessions, and these possessions do not provide any gains beyond this life. Numerous people entrust their faith and dependence to worldly status, wealth, and possessions, using them as a foundation for their sense of self-worth. This reliance frequently takes the form of conceit, as they declare, "I possess this," "I control that," or "I hold such," driven more by greed than genuine dependence. Even if not driven purely by greed itself, such dependence is based upon on the hope that these material possessions will yield meaningful results in this life: of course there are times where these possessions yield good gains for oneself but we must realise that such reliance and dependence do not always guarantee fruitful outcomes, regardless of how strongly people cling to them. This is primarily because worldly possessions are always susceptible to five types of risks (dangers): harm from water, harm from fire, harm from governmental or royal actions, harm from enemies, and harm from theft. Most ordinary people mistakenly believe from the worldly perspective that they can perpetually and securely depend on these worldly possessions without any potential risks. However, the truth is that these possessions are inherently fragile and vulnerable to unexpected losses and risks. It's a common misconception that one can possess their wealth securely, but in reality, not a single possession is immune to losses, and their permanence is an illusion.
Another key reason behind this understanding that all worldly possessions lack true essence and reliance is that when we pass away, we must leave all these possessions behind, rendering them insignificant in the grand scheme of one's life. It was during this reflection that Kanna realised the unreliability and unworthiness of relying on worldly possessions, which ultimately remain behind at the end of one's life. He concluded that the only enduring gain is the merit (kusala kamma) accrued through wholesome actions and the joy derived from such virtuous deeds. These wholesome kammic actions can accompany him in his future existences, serving as the sole enduring benefit, as these wholesome kamma will yield fruitful results in the forthcoming rounds of rebirths.
For instance, among the readers of this blog, there is a diverse array of backgrounds, encompassing individuals born into affluent families, others into middle-class households, some into working-class environments, and others into impoverished families. What accounts for these disparities? It can be attributed solely to the presence or absence of virtuous dāna kamma: offering and the degree of joyfulness on it that result in such distinctions. If you would take time to wisely reflect, your current situation solely reflects on how much dāna actions and paramī you have fulfilled in your past lives. Kanna's contemplation led him to a profound realisation: only kusala kamma, or virtuous actions, would accompany him into his future existences, along with the wisdom and the capacity to cultivate alobha, or non-greed, towards his possessions. He understood that he would reap fruitful kammic results, kusala kamma, generated through the renunciation of worldly possessions, and the ability to develop the wisdom and non-greed (alobha) as a way of fulfulling paramī for his future lives.
From a worldly perspective, most ordinary individuals may think that the gain related to relinquishing possessions is limited to those who directly receive these assets, and the only gain for those who gave away their wealth may be just a speck of joy. However, noble disciples possess a different viewpoint. They understand that regardless of how valuable worldly possessions may be, they are transient and left behind at the end of one's life. Even before that, people can be compelled to part with their belongings due to the five great dangers associated with possessions. It is only the kusala kamma accumulated through the act of renunciation that represents the ultimate gain—one that can potentially lead an individual to the attainment of Nibbāna.
Furthermore, Kanna turned his thoughts toward his own physical body. People commonly cling to their bodies with a desire for longevity and health. While it's undeniably important to maintain physical well-being, we must realised that this intention should not be driven by excessive attachment, consuming an undue amount of time and attention. Instead, we must emphasise the importance of using one's body wisely and skillfully to cultivate virtuous actions. We must always remember o generate wholesome kamma through the wise use of our own body before it perishes. If individuals fail to use their bodies for virtuous deeds, we risk the body aging, falling ill, deteriorating, and eventually perishing without having contributed to any wholesome actions—a significant loss indeed! Excessive attachment to bodily concerns could lead to a squandering of valuable time and resources, ultimately yielding no benefits in the later stages of life. We must wisely see that people often engage in various activities in the name of preserving and pampering their bodies, such as beautification, excessive medical interventions, and the pursuit of more monetary gains for unnecessary sensual pleasures to fuel greed.
Hence, it is imperative that we employ our own bodies with skill and wisdom to amass greater benefits. But how can we accrue these gains? We can utilise our ears to attentively listen to Dhamma talks, our eyes to study the Suttas and Pitaka to deepen our understanding of the Buddha's teachings, and our bodies—without overly worrying over fatigue, sleepiness or tiredness—to engage in samatha and vipassanā meditation for the realisation of the noble truths. Regardless of the hunger we may experience, we can use our bodies to diligently observe the eight precepts. Additionally, we can use our bodies to abstain from verbal, physical and mental misconduct while cultivating mettā (loving-kindness), karuṇā (compassion), and muditā (sympathetic joy) for our own well-being and that of others. All of these merits are accumulated through the wise utilisation of our bodies. Failure to do so renders the purpose of possessing this human body meaningless, as this physical body will eventually deteriorate and perish with or without doing anything purposeful. Therefore, it is crucial for you to contemplate whether we wish to accumulate merits through purposeful use of our physical bodies before the inevitable moment of death or allow it to wither away without having amassed any virtuous deeds.
Kanna also pondered in this same manner: this body is susceptible to both curable and incurable ailments, representing an immediate adversary, lacking inherent essence. Thus, he concluded that refraining from attachment and the pursuit of bodily adornment, while upholding precepts and engaging in meditation, would serve as a more constructive use of his physical form. We must acknowledge that the body's usefulness is most evident during this fleeting moment of existence. However, as life approaches its conclusion, the body automatically loses its appeal and practicality to such an extent that none of your loved ones shall ever choose to retain the bodies of the departed in their homes as at the end of our lives. Kanna recognised that meritorious actions and kamma generated through the observance of precepts and meditation persist into future existences, and therefore, we must use this body wisely to accumulate such gains.
Finally, Kanna contemplated the essence of this very life itself. We must recognise that life comprises a non-stop sequence of impermanent continuum of materiality and mind moments, continually arising and passing away, and this present life will only continue to persist until the point when kamma no longer sustains it. Therefore, life itself lacks inherent essence. Kanna discerned that the way to extract meaning from this fleeting existence is to cultivate as many virtuous deeds as possible while we are still alive. We must emphasise on the importance and the necessity of dedicating diligent effort to meditation, striving to attain at least the initial stages of path and fruit knowledge in this lifetime and to attain concentration, knowledge and wisdom never developed before in our past existences. By doing so, this inherently brief life becomes meaningful, and the cycle of future existences can be ultimately severed, preventing the recurrence of dukkha (suffering) in the form of old age, sickness, and death. Higher levels of concentration, knowledge and supramundane wisdom and ultimately, the path and fruit knowledge can only be attained in this very brief moment of existence. However, their worth is beyond measure and invaluable. Even if an individual does not achieve all four stages of path and fruit knowledge in their current life, their endeavours are not futile, as these virtuous actions have the potential to liberate them from the inherent suffering of the cycle of rebirth. They will yield fruitful outcomes, paving the way for the eventual attainment of Nibbāna in future existences.
Although from the worldly perspective, Kanna's acts of renunciation regarding to worldly possession may seem foolish. However, he epitomised the fulfilment of dāna paramī (the perfection of generosity) through his renunciation of worldly possessions. In terms of his physical body, his unwavering commitment to upholding precepts showcased the practice of fulfilling sīla paramī (the perfection of morality). Moreover, his relentless dedication to meditation demonstrated the pursuit of fulfilling paññā paramī (the perfection of wisdom) in his overall life journey. Moreover, these virtuous actions he embarked upon exemplified his attainment of the pāramī of viriya (perfection of effort), renunciation (nekkhamma), and determination (adhiṭṭhāna). This also illustrates that from a spiritual standpoint, our Bodhisatta, Kanna, made choices that were not only wise but also reflective of his dedication to using the body and the very brief life he had wisely for the attainment of Buddhahood.
While all practices of dāna (generosity), sīla (morality), and bhāvanā (meditation) result in the accumulation of wholesome kamma for both our present life and future, it is crucial to engage in these practices and accumulate kamma with the ultimate aim of realising Nibbāna. This intention ensures that these virtuous actions create favourable conditions, making it easier, swifter, and more comfortable for us to attain Nibbāna in our current existence. If realisation is not possible in this life, the accumulated merit will continue to support our journey to meet with the future Buddhas, to know the Dhamma and to realise Nibbāna in future rebirths.
In sharing this post, my hope is that fellow practitioners will wisely utilise their brief and impermanent and withering bodies wisely in pursuit of the realisation of Nibbāna. I would also encourage you to engage in thoughtful reflection, contemplating whether you aspire to accumulate merits through purposeful engagement of your physical body before the inescapable moment of death, or if you prefer to let it deteriorate without having accrued any virtuous deeds. "We have only one life, and it is our responsibility to live it wisely."
May you realise the Four Noble Truths in this lifetime.