Respect for Concentration

One of the chants we repeat regularly talks about having respect for concentration. That means two things: one, having respect for your own concentration and, two, having respect for other people’s concentration.

Respect for your own is that you’re sitting here and you could be thinking about all kinds of things. Part of the mind will say, “Hey, I’ve got a little piece of time where I have no other responsibilities. I could think about x.” You have to remind yourself that thinking about x’s is what you’ve being doing along. Learning how to think about one thing and stay right in the present moment: That’s a different skill. If you don’t take advantage now of the opportunity to have the mind settle down, just be with the breath, have a sense of well-being with just the breath so that it’s nice and comfortable coming in, comfortable going out: If you don’t do this now, when are you going to do it? Here you’ve got this time, so use it well.

There’s sometimes a part of the mind that says sitting in here being quiet or being very focused on being present to one thing is kind of dumb, whereas you could be thinking all kinds of intelligent and clever thoughts. Again you have to remind yourself that intelligent and clever thoughts are all over the world. People who make their minds still are very hard to find. And the stillness that comes, the understanding of the mind that comes as you get the mind to become still, is something you can’t gain in any other way. You can think your way through all the texts and through all kinds of things, but there are a lot of things that can’t be learned simply by thinking. You’ve got to do. In this case, you’ve got to do the actions of getting the mind to be with the breath, and figure out how to keep it here with a sense of well-being. And you can’t learn that any other way. Then once the mind is still, it’s in a position where it can see things a lot more clearly.

So have some respect for that.

As for other people’s concentration, it’s bad enough that you’re sitting here talking to yourself all the time, but when it starts spilling out into speech outside, then it becomes a disturbance to the others around you. Everybody’s here to be quiet. Everybody’s here to train their mind. We’re not here to listen to each other’s theories about things. We’re here to get in touch with our own minds and to be as little interference as possible for others as they try to get in touch with their minds. So we speak only when it’s necessary and when it’s in line with the duties we have around the monastery.

Ajaan Fuang’s rule always was that once you realize that something is good and true and beneficial, the next question is, is this the right time and place? And then he would add, is it really necessary? There’s so much unnecessary noise going around. If you contribute a little quiet to the world, you’re actually making a useful contribution.

So break into speech only when it’s really necessary. Then when your thoughts are corralled in your own mind, that’s when you can take them on directly. The damage they do when they go out is sometimes hard to see, but the damage they can do in your own mind, if you actually look at them directly, is something a lot clearer to see. So focus inside, where the real problem is: what the mind is saying to itself. And figure out how to get the mind to settle down so that you can gain this skill in resting in concentration. Once the concentration becomes subtle, then you realize that it really is worthy of respect. So give it a chance.