When people say they don’t believe in other realms of existence, what they usually mean is that they cannot form a mental picture of them, or that the picture that appears in their mind cannot be reconciled with all that they have come to know as real.

So much human effort is mis-directed and reaps unnecessary frustration. Four kinds of effort stand out:

(i) Trying to get rid of or escape from present suffering, without understanding it.

(ii) Trying to find protection from the threat of future suffering, without understanding it.

The Buddha did not try to convert members of other sects or religions to his teachings. Nevertheless, on a number of occasions during his life he was slandered and reviled by those who were jealous of him or who felt threatened by the truths he taught. On one such occasion, he reminded his disciples of two important reasons for maintaining their mindfulness when such attacks were made.

One year, while I was leading the monastic community at Wat Pah Nanachat, a certain young monk would regularly miss the early morning chanting/meditation sessions and the afternoon work periods. When I spoke to him about it he told me that the source of his problems was the monastery bell

Conceit (māna) is one of the most subtle of defilements – so much so that some of its forms tend to be considered as virtues. Etymologically, conceit is related to the idea of measurement. Conceit arises when we form an idea of self based upon measuring ourselves against others.

Whatever form of meditation we practise, it is vitally important that we learn how to sustain clarity of mind throughout the session. Without that emphasis, the physical and mental relaxation that occurs as the meditation proceeds will result in dullness or sleepiness rather than samādhi.

One day recently a student of mine was praised for being kind. As a result, he immediately felt a warm feeling in his heart. Later, he wondered whether his reaction was a mental defilement.

When lay meditators go to stay in a monastery for an extended period of retreat they often feel that their practice gets worse than better. They can, for example, find themselves being very critical of those around them. They can become obsessed over matters which at home, they say, they would find quite easy to let of. In the monastery, all of their faults seem magnified. Some people lose faith in the training; others lose faith in themselves.

In the Four Noble Truths the Buddha identified craving (tanhā) as the cause of suffering. He revealed how it is only when craving has been abandoned that suffering will cease. It is important to understand that not all kinds of desire are considered to be forms of craving. Craving refers specifically to the desires that arise in the mind in the absence of authentic knowledge of the true nature of our life and the world we live in.

When someone important in our life passes away, our grief can be of many layers. If our relationship to that person was a central part of our life, then we may suffer from the realization that the person we were in that relationship – spouse, son, daughter, friend – has gone and will never return. We may thus, in a way, be grieving for a cherished part of ourself.

How many times have we suffered, and how many times have we created suffering for others, because of our negative emotions? How many times have we been consumed by self-aversion because of things we have said or done? How many times have we acted in ways that we had previously promised ourselves, ‘Never again!’