Wise Awareness (​Kumāra Bhikkhu's Blog)

Some laypeople express surprise that there’s no chanting sessions in my retreats—but their reaction doesn’t surprise me. Chanting is practically a standard item in organized Buddhist retreats in Malaysia. So why do I leave it out? During the Buddha’s time, lay Buddhists didn’t chant either. Even when observing the eight precepts on uposatha days, they do so without any recitation. Monastics did chant, but mainly to memorize and preserve the Buddha’s teachings—which isn’t why most laypeople chant today. In fact, they often don’t even understand the words they’re reciting. Nowadays, people chant for a few common reasons: To occupy the mind with something soothing, so that it can settle; but sometimes so that they can forget their suffering. To satisfy the belief that by chanting they gain merits. To cultivate a sense of community in temples or monasteries. I don’t include chanting in my retreats because: I want my students to have maximum opportunity t...

Once, a woman brought an 11-year-old boy to see me. She said, “This son of mine doesn’t want to study. He keeps playing. Can you help me?” I noticed that he had an intelligent look. So, I said to him, “When you grow up, you have to work, right?” He nodded. “So, what kind of work would you like to do?” As he was thinking, I said, “You don’t have to tell me now. Go home and take your time to think about it. Then write it down on a piece of paper. If there’s more than one kind of work you’re interested in, that’s okay. But don’t write more than five, okay?” He said, “Okay.” They came again the next week, and he had a piece of paper in his hand. I asked the mother if he showed it to her. She said no. I said to him, “So, what have you written?” He handed me the piece of paper. First on the list was “plumber”. I said, “Okay, honestly speaking, if you want to be a plumber, you don’t have to study a lot. But you do need to know some language, so that you can read labels and write bills. Also, ...

A girl I’ve never met before came to my retreat. Though only 22 years old, she was already an engineer—a deeply unhappy one. After a few interviews with her, I found out why she was so happy: She had not been allowed to play. Her job as a kid was only to study and study and study. “Go and play,” I said to her. “I don’t know how to play anymore!” she replied angrily. “Play with children. Observe and learn from them.” She looked at me while seemingly thinking. After a while, she said, “Okay.” That evening, I saw her squatting by the roadside, picking little flowers. She seemed pretty happy.

Some months ago, a woman I had met only a few times (let’s call her MC) told another woman, “Did you notice that when Bhante spoke to you just now, he seemed to have some opinion against you?” The next morning, the other woman (who had been my main supporter for over a year; let’s call her CC) came to ask me if what MC said was true. I was perplexed. I recalled merely agreeing to CC asking to borrow something. How could that be interpreted as me having an opinion against her? I told her no and asked, “Did it seem to you like I had any opinion against you?” She said it didn’t seemed that way to her either. Then she added that MC had also said something against two other women. To keep it simple, MC claimed those women had done something to hurt CC. Knowing those two women fairly well, I found the story nonsensical and completely out of character for them. “That friend of yours is dangerous!” I said. “Actually, I don’t know her very well. I only got closer to her recently.” “...

Occasionally, people ask me whether I’ve had any ghostly encounter. I usually attribute such “encounters” to psychological issues, but there were a couple of occasions where I believed otherwise. Once after a food dāna, there was a commotion. Curious, I went over to see. A woman was sitting on the floor, speaking loudly in Mandarin in the manner of a little kid. Her elder sister whom I knew well was present. She told me her sister actually didn’t know Mandarin, and spoke only Hokkien and Cantonese. While I was trying to assess the situation, the “little kid” woman said to me, “你说要带我去的嘛, 你都没有带我去!” (“You said you’ll take me there, and you didn't!”) I asked, “去哪里?” (“Where?”) “去西方极乐世界嘛!” (“To the Western World of Ultimate Bliss (Pureland) mah!”) At this point I was pretty sure she mistook me for someone else. Anyway, I decided to assume that this was a case of spirit possession, and asked the elder sister for the woman’s name. Having gotten her name, I called her by her name and asked...

Buddhism is meant to reduce—and even end—suffering. Yet, its teachings have been misunderstood and mis-practised as coping mechanisms to avoid facing suffering, thereby preventing its ending. Here are some insidious ways this can happen: 1. Focusing on Making Merit for a Better Next Life Some Buddhists believe they can’t change their present life unhappiness because it’s the result of past karma. They think their only hope is to accumulate as much merit as possible in this life to secure a better next life. This view discourages them from seeking help and making necessary changes to alleviate suffering now. Worse, this mindset has been exploited by unethical ‘Buddhists’ for personal gain. 2. Justifying Escapism Some misuse Buddhist concepts to justify escapism. They call their escapism “letting go” or “detachment”. With that, they avoid difficult conversations, withdraw from relationships, or neglect personal responsibility—creating a false sense of peace. 3. Avoiding Painful Emo...