This is an AI-generated transcript from auto-generated subtitles for the video Monday Evening Sit and Talk with Diana Clark. It likely contains inaccuracies.
The following talk was given by Diana Clark at the Insight Meditation Center in Redwood City, California. Please visit the website www.audiodharma.org for more information.
Good evening. Welcome. Welcome. Nice to see you all.
So, tonight I wanted to talk a little bit about part of the way in which the Buddha taught, part of his style of teaching. We could say that he was in some ways like a master of painting pictures with words or using what we call similes. These ideas of saying something that’s familiar is like something that’s new that you don’t know. So he did a lot of similes, hundreds and hundreds of similes in his teachings, and they’re kind of fun because they’re a way that the teachings come alive instead of just being some, you know, didactic list. I mean, I like the lists too, but there’s a way in which the similes just help them come alive in some kind of way.
So we might say that of course, when he’s using similes, he’s using things that were obvious and familiar to those people in ancient India. It was, of course, they lived in communities, but it was just starting to be more agrarian, and so they were growing crops and things, but not everybody was doing this. They were farmers, and I don’t know exactly how it was in ancient India, but suffice it to say it’s different than how it is now, right? Whereas today we might have highways and grocery store aisles and emails, then there were maybe some dirt paths—pavement didn’t exist, right? And there were maybe markets, maybe not in some communities, and there were individuals who we know were messengers, so maybe you’d get a message some week later or something like this if somebody walked that distance. So just very different.
But there’s a way in which I’m hoping to share some similes and then give a little modern twist to them, like how can we make them relevant for us today? And one that we don’t even think about as a simile, at least I didn’t think about it when I first heard about this, is this whole notion of a path. Like this movement, like there’s a way to walk and you walk this direction. I mean, in practice, it’s so common to think about this. We even have this expression, the Eightfold Path. But it’s not so much that it’s this clearing in the midst of some forest that’s all cleared out for us and we just have to walk on it.
Instead, well, maybe one thing that’s similar to that is that when you do walk on a clearing that’s in, for example, a forest or a jungle or something like this, that you bring all of you with you, right? When you’re walking, you’re not like leaving some parts behind. You bring all of you with you. And maybe in the same way, we could say that this is a path and that we bring all aspects of ourselves to this practice: our inner life, our outer life, so our emotional life, the way we’re showing up in the world, our thoughts, our emotions, our bodies, all parts are part of this. But it’s not that the path is cleared for us. It’s more that the path gets created as we walk it, quote-unquote “walk.” It’s that our activities are creating the path. This is how the dharma is.
If this feels too abstract or weird, that’s okay, too. You don’t have to buy into this. Sometimes it’s just easier to think, “Oh, okay, Eightfold Path, step one, step two, step three,” or the gradual training. There are different versions of this path, and it’s easier to just imagine it that way. But I think it’s helpful also to think it’s about us as individuals, our experiences, our activities. This isn’t just concepts that are out in the space somewhere that got written down and people talk about. It’s about our life. It’s about what we do and the experiences we have.
So one of these similes is that the Buddha talks about liberation, freedom, Nibbāna1, peace, well-being. I’m going to use all these words to denote a sense of when we have more openness, spaciousness, ease, peace. You can define this how you want, but one simile is that it’s like an old city that is lost in the jungle, that it’s been there, the city has been abandoned, and the jungle has just taken it over. It’s easy for me to believe this, right? Having seen some abandoned buildings, it’s amazing, right, how the plants just start to grow and just start to take over.
And so there’s this idea that just like it’s possible to discover the city, and part of the simile is the Buddha saying he discovered it and now he’s trying to tell people how to get there and how to reclaim it, how to get rid of some of the plants, use one’s machete, I guess, which sounds kind of violent. Maybe not a machete, maybe something else to clean out the city and then to live in it. I kind of like this idea, like once the path is found, then we can walk it and we can inhabit the city, which is the experience of well-being and peace and freedom. So this idea of liberation being a location is also another simile.
And then there’s this sutta, if those of you are interested in this, it’s from the Saṃyutta Nikāya 22.842, in which the Buddha gives instructions or directions on how to get to this city, this place of peace and ease and freedom. And I appreciate very much that this is thousands of years ago, and yet I feel like we can still relate a little bit to the way that he describes it. So the occasion, the setting in which the Buddha is giving these directions to liberation, to this city, is his cousin Tissa3, who was a monastic, was saying that he was miserable with this spiritual life. He had ordained and he was miserable. Some translators prefer “dissatisfied.” I kind of like “miserable” because sometimes it is miserable. It’s difficult. It’s hard, some of this stuff that we do with this spiritual practice. And it also kind of humanizes these individuals. So often they get idealized and we can’t really relate to them.
So here’s the Buddha’s cousin saying, “I’m miserable being a monastic. I have doubts about the teachings.” Right? This is his own cousin. And he’s saying, “I have doubt. So I’m not so sure about what you’re saying is actually going to lead to freedom. It’s going to lead to this peace and ease.” And so the Buddha, rather than trying to give him a pep talk or anything like this, he just gives him instructions. He gives him a simile, and the Buddha says to Tissa, “Imagine you meet someone who knows the road to freedom and they point the way.” So they show you the way, but they also warn you. They tell you there’s a fork ahead, a fork in the road. “Don’t be fooled by the wide, easy-looking road to the left, but take the narrow road on the right. And then you’ll hit a dense forest, but keep going. And then you’ll hit a vast marshy swamp. Don’t sink in the swamp. And then there’s a steep precipice or a slope. And steady yourself and don’t fall off the edge. And then finally, you’ll reach clear level ground,” or we could say, where the city is.
I kind of like this because recently I had the great good fortune of spending some time in Yosemite. For those of us that live here in the Bay Area, I know Yosemite is great, and I hadn’t been there for ages. Oh my gosh, Yosemite is so beautiful. It is just so great. And I spent some time hiking with precipices and there was a little bit of forest, and I didn’t have any marshy swamps, but there’s this way, right, kind of like hiking where you have to find your way, you have to take care not to step on places or twist your ankle or go off the edge of the trail or anything like this.
And then the Buddha unpacks what all these different elements mean: forest and swamp and cliff and all this kind of stuff. So he starts by saying that the one who points out the road is the Buddha, and those who want to know where to go is anybody who’s not completely awakened.
And then he says this fork in the road is doubt, this way in which we have this hesitation or this vacillation, where it’s not clear. Like, “I’m not sure what to do. Should I go this direction or should I go that direction?” And this might show up simply during our meditation practice. Maybe we’re doing mindfulness of breathing and then feel like, “Oh, well, maybe I should do some loving-kindness practice.” And then maybe we start and do a little bit of loving-kindness practice and think, “Oh, well, maybe I’ll just get up and have a cup of tea.” Or, you know, this way that we’re not quite sure exactly what to do next, or we find ourselves kind of hesitating or vacillating. So that represents the fork in the road.
The one that goes to the left looks like it’s wide and pleasant, maybe smooth, and looks like it will be attractive and easy. And he says, “But this one doesn’t go where you want it to go. This one is helpful, but it’s not going to lead all the way to liberation. It’s just going to lead to some pleasant experiences.” Nothing wrong with pleasant experiences, but it’s not going to take you to the peace and freedom that you’re looking for.
And then he says the fork that goes to the right is the Eightfold Path. And it doesn’t immediately promise great sights, great experiences, but it does lead to greater peace and freedom. And because maybe the Noble Eightfold Path doesn’t look so attractive, especially compared to this other one, maybe that’s why doubt arose. Because this other one looks like it’s not as clearly defined, and I might have to scramble over some rocks and maybe find my way around the poison oak or something like this. So the right path is maybe harder to start on, maybe a little bit less attractive, but it leads to freedom.
And then if you find your way going down the path to the right, then you’ll come to this dense forest, as the Buddha was saying. And he said that this dense forest is like ignorance. And this ignorance becomes more visible after wise view, which is the first step in the Eightfold Path, is established. Once we have a little bit of wise view, then we start to realize how much we don’t know. This idea of ignorance is just learning, like knowing what we don’t know. Because at first, we don’t know until we really start practicing. We don’t really see maybe our habits and some of our patterns or assumptions or views that we have that are making life difficult, making this path of practice difficult. It’s often not until we start that we get a sense of this.
So maybe a modern equivalent is when you started your meditation practice. I know this certainly was my experience. Maybe some of you have had this experience too. Like, I had no idea what my mind was doing, how it was just all over the place and it was doing anything except being on the breath, which was my intention. It was quite something. And then, you know, going on meditation retreats and starting to see even more and more how my mind was craving stimulation. I always wanted something exciting to think about or make a problem out of or something. I didn’t appreciate how I had opinions about everything. It was quite something. When the mind finally gets quiet, you just start to see all this kind of stuff. So this might be the dense forest of ignorance, when you start to realize how much you didn’t know, and now you’re starting to see, “Oh yeah, okay, things are different than I was imagining they were.” We could say it’s a jungle or forest of opinions and memories and planning and all kinds of stuff going on in there.
But there’s also another way in which we might say that ignorance can be described here as a dense forest: when we start to investigate some of our views, like some of our basic assumptions. Even this idea that the path of practice is a path that requires a lot of hard work. “No pain, no gain,” you know, this kind of an idea. There’s a way in which we can carry this assumption with us and feel like we have to just be pushing and striving all the time. And to be sure, any spiritual path, not only the Buddhist one, but any spiritual path that’s going to allow for some transformation, for some change, for some shift in your life, is going to take some work sometimes, and it’s going to be uncomfortable sometimes. I would say by definition, it’s kind of like stretching ourselves to increase our capacity. It’s uncomfortable sometimes and it takes some work to hang in there, or maybe even some courage to hang in there. So, we could say that maybe this dense forest, this ignorance, is for us to start to see some of the views that we’re bringing to practice.
And then we come to the swamp. So the Buddha is describing this as this world of sensual pleasures. This swamp is where we have to step carefully, seeking out some solid ground. So this idea with sensual pleasures, whatever pleasures it might be, they’re definitely part of life and they’re welcome, and it’s part of a rich, full life. But it can be a slippery slope into a way in which we are holding on to them and find our life is just pursuing one pleasure after the other. We’re on this hedonic treadmill just trying to have comfort after comfort after comfort. And I don’t want to say that this is bad; it’s just helpful to recognize that there’s this chasing after, because often this view that we might have is when things are uncomfortable, we might have this feeling like, “Oh, I must be failing. I must be doing something terribly wrong if I’m having discomfort.”
So these pleasant sensations, can we have them? Can we experience them and let them go? When they’re experienced, appreciate them, drink them up, and let them go, as opposed to always chasing after them or organizing our whole entire life in order to have more and more and more? Because, right, it’s never-ending. Maybe there’s a way that we can enjoy them without clinging, appreciate them without grasping, or maybe pass through, just allowing them to pass through in a way that we could walk through this swamp without getting stuck and bogged down.
So maybe some modern equivalents could be something like getting lost in dharma book collecting. I’ve done a lot of this too. The amount of books that I’ve had! And then, instead of reading and practicing with the books that we have, it’s like, “Oh no, this new one, I got to read this one.” And maybe we only read a little bit of it, and then there’s the other one. So this could be a way; there’s a pleasure, right, in learning something new or this promise of something that will do it for us or will finally be the answer we’re looking for. Meanwhile, our bookshelf is littered with all these other books that we have read and made sense of, but maybe we didn’t apply ourselves to them. So is there a way in which we can listen to dharma talks, listen to podcasts, read books in a way that is supportive for us but not just entertainment or not just affirming views that we already have? Can we allow ourselves to think, “Hmm, I hadn’t thought of that. Yeah, that’s something for me to think about.”
And now we come to this steep precipice or slope, maybe on the edge of a cliff or maybe it’s a really steep walk down. The Buddha described this as anger and despair. There can be this downward slide into impatience or frustration, like, “I’ve been on this path. I made it through the swamp. I made it through the forest, and I’m still having some discomfort or I’m not completely awakened,” or whatever it might be. So this way in which maybe some patience is needed, just recognizing that things arise when they arise and not a moment before. It’s kind of funny to say that. Of course it’s true, but there’s a way in which we feel like we can control or we want to control when things are happening. And it turns out, right, that we control so much less than we think we do.
So, what are some modern-day equivalents of this? Maybe there’s a way in which you’re comparing your practice to someone else’s. Maybe you’ve been on retreats with somebody or been in Kalyāṇamitta4 groups, a practice group with other people, and then you realize, “Oh, they’re getting to do this or they’re going this direction and I’m still here. What’s happening?” I had this experience on my first meditation retreat. I was so amazed. The person sitting in front of me, she sat still for the entire meditation period. I didn’t even know this was possible. I couldn’t help it. I was so wiggly. I was in so much pain. My body was not happy at all. And I just thought, “Wow, who is this person? She must be completely awakened.” So I was projecting all this onto her but also comparing myself, like, “Oh my gosh, I should be able to sit still.” It turns out yoga practice doesn’t translate so cleanly to being able to sit for a duration of time.
There’s this way in which we compare our practice to someone else’s and then maybe we feel left behind or inadequate in some kind of way, and then that really steals any joy or saps any juice for practice. Humans compare. I’m not going to sit here and say stop comparing because that’s very difficult to do. It’s part of our biology and evolution, the way we work in social groups. But is there a way that we can just notice, “Oh, that’s just comparing”? We don’t have to believe it. We don’t have to make it mean something that somebody else can sit longer or is doing something else with their practice. It’s guaranteed: if you compare, it will bring dukkha5. It doesn’t matter if you think you’re better, worse, or the same. Comparing equals dukkha. Guaranteed.
And then the Buddha says you get to this delightful expanse of level ground, which he’s saying is Nibbāna, and I’ll add also can be equanimity. Nibbāna and equanimity aren’t synonyms, but I think equanimity is something that’s more relatable. When I was hiking, I’d see this flat level ground and think, “Oh, I could go backpacking and camp there.” There’s something really inviting when you’re out for a hike and you find this open, flat place.
The way the Buddha is describing this flat open ground, he’s saying that’s where it’s no longer the swamp, which we could say has some of this clinging to sensual pleasures, related to greed, one of the three poisons. You’re no longer on the steep slope, where the anger or despair has its roots in hatred. And you’re no longer in the forest, which is about ignorance, which is delusion. So Nibbāna is about not having anything that derives from greed, hatred, or delusion, which we could say were the swamp, forest, and slope.
So what’s a modern equivalent of that? One way is to be with a loved one, somebody you care about, and they’re having a lot of difficulties. Maybe they got fired or they’re having difficulties with their relationship or a health challenge. And maybe there’s a way that you can just be there, listen, and not try to fix it, not try to turn away, not feeling overwhelmed, but simply being present for somebody you care about who’s having difficulties. So often we want to jump right in and fix things or say, “Oh, that doesn’t matter. You should do this,” or we want to give them advice. But don’t underestimate how powerful it is to initially just really be present, to allow the person to feel like they’re being seen and heard. This is so powerful. And yet, it’s so often exactly what we don’t want to do because we start to feel uncomfortable.
So, we could ask, where are you? Where are you right now? Do you feel like you’re at the fork, maybe uncertain where to turn? Or maybe you feel like you’re in the dense forest of not knowing, or starting to know that you don’t know a lot. Or maybe you find yourself in this swamp of distractions, trying to wade your way through. Or maybe you find yourself sliding on this slope of frustration. Or maybe just resting in a moment of open ground, of ease.
And wherever you are, the path is actually right here. And now, whatever we’re experiencing, it’s not something that’s over there happening to somebody else. And the good news is we don’t have to clear the whole forest. We don’t have to drain the swamp or any of these types of things. We just take the next step. And maybe the next step is just feeling the next breath. Or maybe the next step is not literally taking a step but just feeling our feet on the ground and feeling grounded, like, “Oh yeah, I’m here,” not lost in some thoughts about this.
These are the instructions or directions that the Buddha provides for his cousin Tissa, who says, “I’m miserable with this spiritual life.” And of course, in this simile, I would say it’s not a linear path. It’s not like we go through the forest and completely get rid of all ignorance, and then we go to the swamp and find our way through sensual pleasures. Instead, it’s just a way to describe some of our experiences. And my hope is… well, I’ll just say for myself, when I was reading this, I felt kind of touched by it. Like, this is what humans do. This is what our lives are like. That the Buddha, thousands of years ago, is describing things that are perfectly relevant today.
So, with that, I’ll end and I’ll open it up to see if there are some questions or comments. So, thank you.
Questioner: We’re taught or we discover that enlightenment happens now, in the present, but what you were describing is sort of a path and a narrative. And so we create a narrative of what our spiritual path is. But how can you not form judgments about whatever that path is over the course of practicing over a number of years? And then what do you, or do you, measure your spiritual growth over time? How does one hold that?
Diana Clark: So your question is like, how do you evaluate that?
Questioner: I guess it’s in a way it’s a little bit of a contradiction between being entirely in the present. A couple of months ago, you gave a lecture about how the way to get to point B is to be present at point A, which really lit up something for me. So, it’s sort of in that spirit that I guess I’m asking that question about a contradiction between living in the present but creating some sort of narrative about what your own growth or evolution is.
Diana Clark: Yeah. Yeah. So, it’s a paradox. I kind of like it. I like that it’s a paradox, but it’s about being here, but we have a model. We say the simile is just a model, right? These are just words that it’s a path of progression. But there’s something fascinating if we think about this, if you’ll allow me to say: as long as we are measuring our progress, we will become deficient, that we won’t be there yet. That’s guaranteed. So it’s really fascinating that it’s when we stop measuring that we actually find the freedom.
But it’s useful to… I could just stop there and just say that’s how it is. And the paradox is that at the same time, there are elements—the Eightfold Path or this idea here of forests and swamps and slopes—that are helpful to maybe highlight the ways in which we are not completely here, and help us to move into the areas that we don’t see. Maybe the liberation or freedom is a wholeness and a completeness, and often we don’t know how we’ve tried to excise or remove parts of ourselves that are kind of left behind. And so part of some of these teachings are to allow this wholeness, this completeness, to be experienced completely. Is this helpful at all, what I’m saying here?
Questioner: Yes, it is. I guess one other thought along the same lines is, you know, sometimes when we face adversity, you may have a certain expectation about how you’re going to handle it. But I think that after you’ve been practicing a while, your experience or your anticipation may be different.
Diana Clark: Yeah. Excellent. Use it as a kōan. I love it. Right? Because kōans are things that are like, “Wait, what? This doesn’t quite compute.” Yeah. I love it. Yeah. Thank you.
Nibbāna (Nirvana): A Pali word that literally means “to extinguish” or “to blow out.” In Buddhism, it refers to the ultimate goal of the spiritual path: the complete cessation of suffering (dukkha) and the cycle of rebirth (samsara), resulting in a state of profound peace and liberation. ↩
Saṃyutta Nikāya 22.84: A reference to a discourse in the “Connected Discourses of the Buddha,” one of the five major collections of the Buddha’s teachings in the Pāli Canon. The number 22 refers to the chapter (saṃyutta) on the aggregates (khandha), and 84 is the specific discourse (sutta) within that chapter. ↩
Tissa: A cousin of the Buddha who became a monk but struggled with his practice, expressing doubt and dissatisfaction. This discourse was given by the Buddha to guide him. ↩
Kalyāṇamitta: A Pali term meaning “spiritual friend” or “virtuous friend.” In Buddhism, it refers to a supportive companion on the spiritual path who offers guidance, encouragement, and a positive example. ↩
Dukkha: A fundamental concept in Buddhism, often translated as “suffering,” “stress,” “dissatisfaction,” or “unease.” It refers not just to physical pain but to the inherent unsatisfactoriness of all conditioned phenomena due to impermanence (anicca) and the lack of a permanent self (anattā). ↩