Buddhism and Rubbish | Ajahn Brahm | 5 February 2021

Ajahn Brahm loves to use metaphors to catch your interest and make a point. How are Buddhism and rubbish alike? Ajahn Brahm talks about rubbish with a Buddhist viewpoint, including how to deal with other people's rubbish.

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Recorded at Dhammaloka Buddhist Centre, Perth, Western Australia.

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Okay, so now,
before the talk,

those of you who want to go to
toilet or go outside,

you’re most welcome
or stay inside.

Of course, many people
will be listening online.

I hope.

And for a monk
who gives so many talks,

some to you,
some to monks,

some online talks
over to Singapore

or Hong Kong
or wherever, to UK…

because even though you don't
travel at this time because of Covid,

still, you do lots of talks
in many different countries.

So often I think that I’ve taught

on every subject there could be.

But this evening,
somebody just asked me.

And they, sort of, said:
‘Well, why don't you give a talk…’

Because I said:
‘Well, you know,

all these talks, some of the
talks I’ve given is on rubbish’.

‘No, you've never
given that talk before’.

So today's talk is
‘Buddhism and rubbish’.

So if anyone who complains
afterwards ‘that was a rubbish talk’,

I say ‘yes, great, well
done, you've understood it’.

Because sometimes,
when we talk about rubbish,

there are some times
that we reject it.

But as a Buddhist monk,

there's so many things
which other people reject,

you look at again and
see some of its beauty

and some of its delights.

And using the idea of rubbish,

one of the first
metaphors which I remember

was again from my teacher,
Ajahn Chah, years and years ago.

And he was the one who…
he knew just what would happen,

when his western
disciples went over to

the different countries which didn't
have much of a tradition of Buddhism.

And one of the things you'd always
have to do is actually talk to people,

be their friend

and just to listen to the
problems they have in their life.

And of course,
that happens a lot,

even though you had no, like,

lectures or education on counseling.

Nevertheless, you soon
became a very good counselor,

a lot of the time, because of
things which Ajahn Chah taught you...

and one of those things he
always taught us was to remember,

whenever you counsel
somebody, they tell you their problems:

marriage problems, life problems,
money problems, and all these problems…

Till this day I can't understand
why people ask monks or nuns

about these questions.

Number one: as you all know,
I have never been married.

What do I know about marriage?

Number two: I’ve never had kids.
What do I know about raising children?

Number three: I’ve got no money.
What do I know about economy?

Number four: I don't have a job.

What do I know about going to the
office in the morning and getting a job?

Number five: I don't have a car.
What do I know about driving a car?

But all these questions
which people ask you -

I always give an answer.

Make it up as I go
along most of the time,

but with some kindness

and some understanding
about what's really being asked.

By the end of the interview or
the end of the counseling session

I’ve learned something from
Ajahn Chah, which not many people know.

And I don't think they teach
you this in the universities

if you go to counseling courses.

And that was a simile, as many
of you may be beginning to know,

to be a rubbish bin.

This is my first simile to
celebrate the idea of rubbish.

Because my teacher said:

‘If ever you do any counseling,
listen to people's problems,

you must always receive

whatever they say,

if possible without any
judgment, just with kindness,

appreciating you don't know
why that's happened to them

or just what they're going through,

but you try and give as much
kindness as you possibly can.

But when they leave,

you must imagine
that you are a rubbish bin.

So you can actually
accept everybody's problems

and difficulties in life.

I don't know why they're
putting the rubbish into me,

I didn't do it,
it's not my fault,

but please accept that rubbish.

But the most important part of
that simile is what he added in the end.

‘But please make sure
you always imagine yourself

to be a rubbish bin
with a hole in the bottom.

So, what anybody tells you,
whatever they put in you,

it goes right through
and you don't keep any of it.'

That was the most
wonderful part of that simile.

So it means

that after people tell you some
terrible things which happened

and really difficult problems,

first of all I would worry
about that ‘oh, what can I do,

I must do something to help them’.

And then afterwards,
you get full.

So when the next person came,
you wouldn't be able to listen to them,

you'd be thinking
about the last person.

And you’d soon
be a full rubbish bin

overflowing with trash.

But instead,

if you’re a rubbish bin
with a hole in the bottom,

whatever you tell me,
whatever you complain about,

whatever you disclose to me
about the difficulties of your life,

it just goes right inside

and goes right through and
afterwards there's nothing in there.

I’m a rubbish bin
with a hole in the bottom.

So always empty to receive

the next piece of rubbish
you want to donate to me.

That's a wonderful little thing

that the idea of being
a rubbish bin is not keeping anything.

Being able to
discard things, being able to…

It's not just
polluting the planet.

This is almost like a metaphor

that everything which we
use eventually breaks down,

goes back to the
soil or goes back to…

All of the difficulties of your life too,

don't last.
They're all anicca.

They fade away
and other things happen.

And because I’ve been
here for long enough now,

37, 38 years now in this place,

46 years as a monk…

So much you can see, it doesn't last.

Dhammasara -
when did we build that?

It doesn't last.
[laughter]

One day it's gonna fade away.

Same with Bodhinyana
monastery, it fades away.

But it's worth making.

It's one thing which
I love telling people,

because it was… I think I told
people this in the Dana last week.

On 31st of January 2000…
no sorry, 31st of January, 1991.

That was when we had our big bushfire,
big ground fire on the hottest day ever,

at the time in West Australia.
46 degrees, 46 degrees - that's hot.

That was before the fire came.

When the fire came,

it came right through our monastery.

As the trees exploded.

But anyway,

we were forced to evacuate, when the
fire was happening, all ready to defend.

We had all the…
fire pumps going,

but we were told we had to leave.

When we did leave,
I saw those trees exploding

and you could feel that
this was an incredibly hot fire.

And Bodhinyana Monastery,

I thought was gone.

I honestly thought that.

But the following morning,
we were taken back there,

to see all of the
huts were still there.

All of the huts are
still at Dhammasara.

All of the halls and
dining halls at Dhammasara.

The only thing which is
not at Dhammasara is you.

The nuns.
[laughter]

But they'll come back
again, in a day or two.

But what was amazing was
that you could let things go.

Because it wasn't having the monastery

or the facilities which was important.

It was actually having the spirit,

having the opportunity to serve and build

a very… honestly, I mention this,
because it was absolutely true.

That even though I thought
everything was going to be burnt down,

you went there the next day,

knowing ‘Well,
let's build it up again.'

'Let's do it again.'

Because it was the action which
was more important than the results.

The service.

Because you can see that in nature

that things do eventually fall down.

They do get old,

they do get rubbishy

like Ajahn Brahm.

I’m getting much older than I used to be.

People just showed me these photographs

when I used to be able to go
on top of roofs and fix them up.

Now monks say, if
I get on top of the roof,

the roof will buckle.
[laughter]

You know, Venerable Sunyo, just next
to my room, the place where I stay,

there's lots and lots
of twigs in the gutter.

I thought of getting up on
the roof and taking them out.

But I thought twice. ‘No,
it's better to keep the roof…

unharmed'.
[laughter]

But anyway.

In the old days, I would
get up there and do stuff.

But you can see just how to get…

things like old age.

Things start to decay.

There's something beautiful
about the decaying part of nature.

Things like turning into rubbish.
What was really important to you,

what was really precious,

eventually fades away and disappears.

Its importance is temporary.

And everything

which I cherished, which
I owned, which I loved and cared for,

things like your family,

they're temporary.

It doesn't mean you don't care for
them - you care for them to the max,

knowing that they’re not
always gonna be here.

And when they do pass away,

that was a beautiful time spent.

You enjoyed each
other's company so much.

Thank you.

And you know, that's that
old simile which I say a lot of…

When you go to concerts.

A concert being
held here next week.

Beautiful, beautiful concerts.

They will never last.

In fact, if they did last,

then, there'd be

something unbeautiful about them.

There'd be something which,
after a while, you get bored.

After a while, you turn away anyway,

to go see something different.

But there’s something about
those great concerts, very short,

and when it's finished, you feel just...

grateful.

Grateful to have been there

and enjoy that great performance.

You know that they will turn to dust.

But nevertheless,
it's important to be there.

And enjoy it
while it's happening.

Knowing that you'll have to let it go.

And move away.

And much of this, you can find that

when we understand
the whole idea of rubbish,

things which have
used are no longer usable.

It has a use.

Rubbish is… obviously,
people recycle rubbish,

I’m not gonna go into that,
because that's talked about a lot.

But whenever we do have rubbish,
we know that whatever we use,

will one day just be thrown away.

Is that bad?

There was… For those of you
who are traditional Buddhists,

this is one story about
this monk, Chulapantaka.

This was in the time of the Buddha.

that his brother
was fully enlightened,

but his younger brother,
this guy Chulapantaka,

was very... intellectually challenged.

He couldn't really learn
much theory or teachings.

And he was finding very
difficult to meditate, at first.

But what his brother gave him -
was it the Buddha or his brother -

gave him just a piece of cloth.

Just told him to keep rubbing the cloth.

And so this is what this younger
brother did, just kept rubbing the cloth,

until the cloth became quite dirty.

And he kept on rubbing it,
until the cloth started to...

to be frailed.

And kept on wearing,
until it started to break down.

His brother said

‘That's the nature of all the
things which we hold dear to in life.

Through use,

through association,

over time,

it all tends to

disappear and vanish.

And turn into rubbish.

Just like the most
beautiful things in Bodhinyana.

Maybe not in my lifetime,

but all those huts…

I was quite stupid when
I started building those huts.

I wanted to make them permanent.

Do them well, do them once,
so you don't have to do it again.

I thought just build these
things and it's all finished,

no other monk will
have to bother about it.

But of course, that's
not the nature of life.

They tend to start to fall apart.

Or if they don't fall apart,
just fashions fall apart.

In other words, no, the windows are
too small, we want to make them bigger.

No, no, we don't want a brick wall,
we want a whitewashed wall.

No, we don't want it this
way, we want it that way.

And so,

often even Bodhinyana monastery
and Dhammasara monastery, as you know;

when people would come
and they said: ‘Is it finished yet?’

And I would say: ‘No’.

‘Well, you’ve got all the huts there,
you've got all the dining room there,

you've got the meditation
room; is it finished yet?!’

Never finished, no, they keep going on,
there’ll always be building something new.

That's what's happened
at Bodhinyana monastery.

We've been going much longer.

Thirty-six years,
‘Is it finished yet?!’

Venerable Sunyo?

'No way.'

And this is actually our life.

Things don't get finished.

They get built,

they get worn away,

they turn to rubbish

and they get rebuilt.

For those of you who
have been to old countries,

I remember just…

Well, you know,
I was born in London.

And that London
is built on rubbish.

It's rubbish upon rubbish upon rubbish.

And when people
actually do excavations

to put foundations in
to another big building,

they always come across
the rubbish of old generations.

Sometimes a hundred, two hundred,
five hundred, a thousand years of age.

And even longer than that.

Because that's what happens.

Life creates that rubbish.

And that rubbish
becomes the foundation

on which new buildings,
new culture is made.

Without that rubbish

of past generations,

our generation wouldn't have

the foundations on which to grow.

And live.

And sometimes
that history, history is just…

Our grandparents' rubbish.

All the things which they did and
use, which was so important to them,

which wore out and new
things were built afterwards.

Sometimes, that…
that is not disrespect.

But it's always like building

on what other people have done.

And that is the same

just even with ideas

and teachings.

So often, even in teaching
about Buddhism, about meditation,

you know – yes, we
have the old teachings

which you can read and understand.

From even the time of the Buddha.

About how these things worked
and how meditation was taught.

But,

can we improve on that?

Of course.

You know we can.

In the time of the Buddha
that people would have...

they wouldn't have zafus like you have
these days, they'd just get some grass.

But can we improve
upon those zafus?

I've often mentioned this,
it'd be a great opportunity

for anybody who wishes to

innovate and get
a lovely new business.

Look at the meditation cushions

you're sitting on right now

or the chairs.

These are just so old-fashioned.

And imagine having...

We live in a world of high-tech.

Can't we get high-tech
meditation cushions?

And once you start
thinking like that...

Basically, I got this idea
from this guy over in Singapore.

This guy in Singapore,
he was a designer.

One of his great claims to fame

was actually designing
dresses for Princess Diana

when she was still alive.

He designed a couple of her dresses.

So he was obviously a very
smart guy living in Singapore.

And his latest idea,
when I saw him years ago,

was like designer
Zimmer frames.

If you think about it, you know the
Zimmer frames which elderly people use,

many of those elderly
people are cashed-up.

So to get like a
designer Zimmer frame,

you know, that'll be in their budget

and you make a lot of money that way.

Was that exploitation
or was it just smart thinking?

Designer Zimmer frames.

I don't know, but

anyway, that...

Please excuse me,
I can't resist this one.

I was just saying
today, because Dhammasara

had that... what do you call that...

where you make donations at Dhammasara?

'Cashless donations',
that little thing over there

you just put a credit card on,

and it puts money
into Dhammasara.

They're just trying it out over here.

But I say,

that please, if anyone has

Parkinson's disease,

please be careful.
(laughter)

About 20-30 taps,
when you only meant one.

And that's your bank balance gone.

Alzheimer's also, yes.

Did you put a donation in,

Lawrence?

Are you sure?

Alzheimer's... did I
put it in, I'm not sure.

Anyway.

It's ok, we won't
exploit you, maybe.

But anyway.

For zafus.

Why do we just have this

fluff inside there?

Because if you
have designer zafus,

you know, with IT.

First of all,

you know, you
can actually adjust,

they have different
compartments to the zafu,

so if your back needs lifting,

you can just press one button

and the back lifts up.

If your knee is a bit sore,

the other part lifts up,
so your knee can lift up.

If it really is sore,
it can give it a massage,

like on those massage
chairs you can sit on,

so your knee gets a good
massage while you're meditating.

If you're too hot...

sometimes who
knows what we can put,

the temperature on there,
the aircons are on today,

but sometimes it's hot here,

sometimes it's cold here.

If it's really cold, you can
get these blows of hot air

coming up your
body to warm you up

and if it's too hot, you can
get some coolness in there,

if you have sloth and torpor,

really tired,

which many people have after
coming here after day's work

or week's work

and you come here for
Friday night and you're half-asleep,

you can press another
little button for a coffee.

Or if you like tea,
tea or cappuccino,

you can have all
sorts of buttons on there.

Like a high-tech
meditation cushion.

I'm sure there's so many
wealthy people over in USA

who meditate, that you
would make a fortune.

Is that a good idea?

Anyway.

How did we get on to that,

it's supposed to be a talk on
rubbish, not about making a fortune.

Is money rubbish?

[Yes]

Really?

So we have a rubbish bin
at the back over there.

For your rubbish.

Now, is it?

That was another thing
which Ajahn Chah used to teach.

You know.

Sometimes people asked,
'Did Ajahn Chah make any predictions?'

Telling the future.
He actually did,

a couple of times.

And this prediction,
I was there when he made it.

He, sort of, said:
'In the future,

they will run out of paper
to make banknotes.

They won't have enough paper left.

They're cutting down too many trees.

And they will not... they'll run out
of metal, like silver or gold

to make coins.

So they'll have to find
something else to use for money.'

And what he said, what
they'd use for money in the future –

these little balls of chicken poo.

Okay – chicken shit.

You know the little balls
you see of chicken shit?

So that's what they'll pay you in,

after you go to work for the week.

Hundred pellets of chicken shit

for all your hard work.

And you'd really ask
for a rise in chicken shit,

because you're not getting
enough to feed your family.

And you go to the bank, and you
won't be putting money in the bank,

but little pellets of
chicken poo in the bank.

And the IMF would become
the International Manure Fund.

What's the difference
between chicken shit and money?

Only the value you put on it.

That's the only difference.

And so he predicted
people will be fighting wars

over chicken shit.

Who makes the most...

And looking at the economy

as how much more chicken shit
we can make in our different countries.

But that was something
which was quite challenging,

because it had some truth to it.

All this stuff which we value,

what's its difference between rubbish?

Only the value which we give to it.

It's the same with

so much other stuff we have.

One of the great advantages I found

with being a Buddhist monk
is we can be rebellious,

we challenge

what is means to be
comfortable and happy.

What it means to be rich.

Many of you know where I live:

in a cave, there's hardly anything there.

And honestly, I'm so
happy in that little cave.

It's quiet, it's cool,

I get some great meditation there.

How many of you would like to live there?
(silence)

A few people, yes.

So you go and build yourself one.

It's much cheaper
than the house you live in.

Or the apartment you live in.

Or whatever else you live in.

Just get a nice cave.
But, you know, the trouble is

that we're not allowed to build caves.

Because, again, our system
is not rebellious enough.

We think: "Oh no, you need
to have a kitchen, a bathroom,

bla-bla-bla-bla-bla

You need to have this amount
of space, this amount of space.

But do you?

I've lived in that cave
for how many years now?

Before you came, wasn't it?

About 10–15 years, 20 years now?
How many years, do you know?

Do you remember,
how long I've lived in my cave?

Anyway,

it's a long, long time,
and it's very comfortable,

so why is it that we can't...

that all the people put their hands up,
buy a cave and go and live in there.

Instead of...

My cave is about...
this is like a hemisphere.

If you wanna know what it looks like.

It's about 3 meters diameter.

Made out of rocks,
and it's very well made

and I'm very grateful for the
monks who made that for me.

And it's so comfortable in there.

I really enjoy it,
and many of you've seen it.

It's one of the best accommodations in the
whole of Perth, doesn't cost much at all.

So what it means, is:
some people think

that's a rubbish place to live.

Why do people want to live in big houses?

Why?

So sometimes, when
we challenge these things,

we can actually see
different ways of doing things.

I think those big places are just...

not free at all.

Different ways of looking at the world.

This is also something which
I spent a lot of time talking about:

freedom.

What is freedom?
What is a free world?

And the weird thing is
that being a Buddhist monk

and Buddhist nuns,
we have so many rules

we're supposed to be
keeping, which we do keep.

That's one of the things that...
we teach people what these rule are,

and you learn them yourself and

you say, wow, these monks
actually do keep those rules.

We don't have money.

So this is one of the
reasons why, when...

I said I couldn't try out that

that donation terminal
or whatever it is.

Because I've got no money.

Imagine what it's like, to travel
around the world without money.

And fortunately, no
one has ever asked me,

when I've gone through
these customs and immigration,

'Excuse me sir, how much money
are you bringing into the country?'

'How much money are you spending here?'

Because if they asked me,
I'd say: 'Zero, nothing'.

[Zip...]

They probably wouldn't let me in.

But even though I'm not
going to any of these countries,

bringing money into the economy,

you're bringing something
else which is more important.

Which is why I keep
getting invited to these places.

Peace, happiness, joy,
different way of looking at things.

Ways which can actually bring people
together rather than separate people.

Different ways of looking.

For me, the money is that rubbish stuff.

And wealth...

Yeah, you've got to have some wealth,

but that's rubbish stuff.

Fame is rubbish stuff.

So what do you really want in your life?

Is that rubbish?

Or is it something
which is really valuable?

Sometimes, you can check on that.

If your house was burning

like in a bushfire

and you did have a chance to
get in the house and get something

to flee with before the fire hit.

What would you take?

What is really valuable for you?

Would it be your credit card?

Would it be, maybe, your dog?

What is very, really valuable for you?

And sometimes, when you
can't take anything at all,

sometimes just...

your goodness is the most valuable.

One thing which I always remember

and also talked about
a lot with the monks as well –

not things.

Not, sort of, you know, photographs

or mementos

or medals –

that's not important.

What is really important
is, like, the service

which you gave,

which is why you got
that medal in the first place.

That is what is important.

That's something which is not rubbish
and that's something which doesn't fade.

That is something which
stays in your heart forever.

The service, the goodness, the kindness.

What you've given to others.

And I don't just mean money.

I mean just the help which you've given.

Just, you know, like good old Dennis –
I don't know how many years he's been

President from time to time here.

So much service which he's given to this
Buddhist Society of Western Australia

for so many years,
turned him into this beautiful,

grey,

going blind,

but very happy person

who people respect.

That is something which
is so valuable in this world,

that is not rubbish.

Just how you are held
with love in people's hearts.

That is something which is priceless,
that's why its value is way beyond

a monetary calculation.

It's one of the reasons why I've
been using that word a lot – 'priceless'.

As many of you know those stories,

when people ask,
'How much do I have pay

to come into your
Buddhist Society of Western Australia?'

And when I used to say 'Nothing', they
said 'Ok, you can't be any good, then'.

Because if you want to, sort of,
go to a place which is really good,

a really good teacher,
oh, you have to pay for that...

Do you?

All these motivational
teachers that used to come –

was it Tony Robbins, was it?

Or...

I don't know who the
motivational speakers are.

And you pay a fortune for those.

Ajahn Brahm –

nothing.

And I remember a few people,
because I know some rich people,

and they just went to a weekend
with these motivational speakers:

five or six thousand dollars!

Then they came to
one of my weekends

and they said 'Wow, you are much
better! Why don't you charge more?'

I said 'Well, I do charge:

the cost of coming to my talks

is priceless.

In other words, it's not, sort of,
given a monetary value at all.

Because that monetary value
can never reach what is given.

The importance of just
kindness and giving

by example, not just by words.

That's one of the other things
which is important value.

If you just give a talk

and it's just words, just arguments,

there's nothing behind it,

there's no practice, no living that life,

that doesn't have much value.

That is rubbish.

There are some people
who give amazing talks.

When I read them,

I say just 'Wow, that's... how can
they talk so fluently, so eloquently,

so deeply...

But it doesn't have power.

It's something which
I've seen so many times.

If a person is actually living
that life, if they're practicing it

and not just faking it,

it's amazing just how

powerful that is.

Some of the teachers – I'm sure you can

hear the same teachings far
more eloquent than I can give you.

But it's where it's
coming from is different.

These little things like I tell,
that you know, you are...

all the nuns, there are
renunciates, they're living that life.

You go and check them out. See them.

As they speak, so they live.

Same with the monks.

And that gives these
teachings an extra power to them.

Especially in a world where
there's a lot of dishonesty,

a lot of falsities.

People say one thing and
they live a totally different life.

A life where we've lost respect for
so many people who used to be given

so much authority.

And they lost that authority.

And I can understand why it is that
people these days, they just want...

to have trust.

At least some group of people.

It's one of the reasons why –
I think I told this in an ordination

a few... a week or two ago –

Why it is that

one of my friends,
a monk over in Malaysia,

it was actually Venerable Aggacitta

years ago...

When he was setting up his temple

in Taipei...

in Malaysia,

he did a survey, first of all.

He's a very highly educated monk.

He surveyed as many of
his lay followers as possible.

And asked them:

'What type of monk would you like?

Should that monk be a great teacher?

Should he be a monk
who can tell great jokes?

Should he be a monk who writes books?

Should he be a monk
who's a great scholar?

Should he be a monk
who's a great meditator?

Should he become a monk
who keeps all the precepts?

Should he be a monk who can
travel around and teach your kids?

What type of monk would you want?'

And the category
which won, hands down,

he showed me the results and
I was so inspired and impressed:

the type of monk they wanted most –

and that was just for a monk; the type
of nun they want the most, as well –

is the one who keeps the precepts.

A virtuous person.

Because they were the
rarest to find in the world.

Someone who lived what they taught.

Instead of saying one thing,

practicing differently,

which made their words

not worth anything at all.

Just rubbish words.

So little by little, that's so important,

to give whatever we do, whatever we speak,

whatever we write, that extra power

by living this.

And even I remember some
of my followers over in Singapore,

that there was this one Buddhist...
was he a Buddhist? No, he was

a Christian, a pastor, who was caught

making so much money, like
millions of Singapore dollars.

And a lot of that was done fraudulently.

So he was gonna go to jail.

And that really made the Christian
community in Singapore just really

a bit upset about their leaders.

At the same time, I was in the
newspaper for something else,

and I was interviewed,
and what I said there,

and it was confirmed, that

whenever I go teaching
anywhere in Singapore,

I don't get any money at all,
I don't have any bank account,

don't have a credit card,

don't have... nothing.

It's always great fun in that sense.

When you're a monk, you don't have
any driver's license, bank account

details...

I don't own anything.

But look how well I live.

And I said in this article,

'In today's world, you don't need money.

Or a credit card.

If you're kind

and giving

and serving

and helping,

living simply.'

And then, I think the next day,
in the letters column,

one of these pastors said 'We can
learn from this Ajahn Brahm fellow.'

'Just look, there he is' – I had
a good reputation in Singapore,

'There he is, living very
peaceful, doing such a good work

and he doesn't charge
a thing for anything'.

All done for free.

For gratis.

For the love of it.

People give donations afterwards,
but not to me, they give it to Dennis

and the Treasurer.

Over there.

And it goes into supporting this place.

But for monks and nuns,

we do it just for the joy of it,
for the service of it, for the love of it.

And you get so much
happiness and joy back.

That's one of the greatest
things, to have that service

as your wealth.

When people ask 'Who's the
wealthiest people in this room?'

They're sitting in the front seats, here.

They're wealthy. And I've
met some very wealthy people.

I often mention this - billionaires.

But those wealthy people had nothing.

They're only wealthy
in the amount of worry they have.

They've got lots of money in the bank,

but they don't have
the peace and happiness

which you see in your
monks and nuns, here.

They don't have that, because

they're worried so much, they're not free.

One of the great things about this life:

you learn the meaning of freedom.

It's not the freedom OF desires,
as I often say,

it's the freedom FROM desires.

You don't want anything,
you just want to give.

What can I give you?

What to do you want?

How can I help? How can I serve?

And that's such a great joy,
to be able to serve others.

It's such a great joy to serve others,

that's why even simple things,

like opening the door to one of you,
when according to our rules and traditions

you're supposed to open the door for ME.

Simple thing, but I love doing that,
opening that door to people.

And just doing whatever you can do,
to carry something for them, or whatever.

However I can do

to serve others,

to be kind, put that kindness
into real good practice.

And that record of service
you should build up over the years.

The giving, the goodness,

the helping others.

Expecting nothing back in return.

That gives you a huge wealth inside.

A huge power.

Spiritual power

and even

psychic power as well.

I'm now sure, I'm sure the nuns

did a lot of chanting to kick
that bushfire out of their property.

Certainly the monks did,

certainly I did.

You say you knew...

Honestly, I knew that fire had
no chance to get into Dhammasara.

No chance in the world.

Simply because

there are such things as heavenly beings.

Can I tell this story?

I haven't told this story for a while.

This is the heavenly-being-story.

Real one.

Of the monk...

or actually he wasn't a monk yet.

This American

who met a heavenly being –
it's absolutely true story.

And I've got to be careful
saying this, because

this happened in Thailand and there is
that very strict rule of lèse-majesté –

you can't say anything bad about a king.

Listen to this story
just to finish off with.

I'm not saying anything bad at all,
but just saying something wonderful

about one of the
former kings of Thailand.

This young man,

he got over to Thailand

to do Peace Corps work.

So two years over in Thailand,

doing Peace Corps work.

And then, before he went
back to the United States

and just...

get a job, get married,
and all of that sort of stuff,

he decided to try to be a monk.

A Buddhist monk just for a short time.

But he didn't know what to do.
How do you become a monk?

In Thailand.

And so, he was staying at a hotel

on the outskirts of Bangkok,

and he asked the concierge.

The concierge knows other
places to send Americans,

but not, sort of, monasteries.

But he did hear that there was
one monastery in the centre of Bangkok,

Wat Bowon,

which sometimes had Western monks.

So he said: Go there, go to this place
Wat Bowon, in the centre of Bangkok,

and go there early in
the morning, take some food

and wait for the monks to come out

and put some food into
one of the monks' bowls

and just ask them.'

He knew a little bit
of Thai, not that much.

Ask them he wants to become a monk.

So that's what he did.

The advice wasn't very clear or precise.

So he went there
really early in the morning.

About 4 o'clock,
4:30 or something.

And the monastery was all locked up.

It was closed, no one was around.

So he was walking up and down
outside this monastery Wat Bowon,

not knowing what to do.

And this Thai man came up to him

and asked him:
'Who are you? How can I help?'

Because Thais are, certainly in those
days, were very polite and very helpful.

So he said he was American,
he wanted to become a monk,

and the Thai man said:
'You're really early,

you've come a couple of hours too early.'

But the Thai man said: 'Never mind.
I've got the keys, I can let you inside.'

So he took this Westerner
inside the monastery.

He opened the doors,
it was a metal door

in front of the Uposatha hall, the boat.

You're Thai, it's called the Royal Gate.

I'll tell you why afterwards,
if you don't already know.

And then went into the main hall,

turned on the electric lights,

he had the key, opened the main hall,

the holy of holies there,

and he described all the paintings,
all the murals on this 200-year-old hall.

And who painted them,
why they were painted,

and the story which those murals told.

And if you know that
Thai art in those days,

every one of those murals
told a story, it's like a cartoon,

but cartoons in the West
they would start from the left

and they go to the right,
then the next level...

These go around all sorts
of different... trajectories.

If you know the story, you can
actually tell what they are, but even

sometimes I know those stories,
but I can't actually figure out

how they all connect together.

But the two hours went past so quickly.

He was so fascinated by all this history

of the temple that this Thai man knew.

Then the Thai man said:
'It's about time now, to...

the monks will be coming out any minute,

so go out the gate again, turn right,
and then wait for this old monk –

he's the one you should speak to.'

That's what this Westerner did.

This American.

I know this American.

It's a true story.

Happened in my lifetime, in Thailand.

And

soon that monk came out

and he put some food in the bowl,
asked him he wanted to become a monk,

and this American was told to wait
and was taken to start the training,

being a monk.

And

after a few days,

the American said: 'Look,
the monk you've given me

to teach me all the chanting,

and the rules and stuff,

I can't understand him,
his English is no good.

And the other monk said 'This is the best

English speaker we've
got in the whole monastery'.

And that is where this American said:
'What about that temple attendant

who I met on the first day?'

'What temple attendant?'

'The guy who opened the door for me.'

'You can't go through that door.

That gate is the Royal Gate.

The only people allowed
through that gate at Wat Bowon

are members of the royal family.'

You know how much
they hold their tradition.

And you can't turn
the electricity on there.

And, and...

not even the Abbot knows all
the stories behind those paintings.

They took him straight to the Abbot.

That was Somdet Nyanasamvara.

He became the Head Monk of Thailand.

But at that time, he was
the Abbot of the temple.

The Abbot was listening to
all of this and stopped him.

And said: 'Wait' and called in the
secretary, 'This needs to be recorded.'

And this is pretty much a true story.

I did tell this story in the Thai
Embassy in Singapore, once.

And the Ambassador there, interrupted me.

Eventually afterwards he said
'Yes, I've seen that story written down,

it's true, it actually happened.'

But anyway, the Abbot wrote it all down.

Or the secretary, rather.

But the end of the story.

Of course, they asked the question:

'What did that man look like?

That temple attendant
we don't know, exists.

The one who opened doors
which only royal family can open.'

No one's got the key, no temple
attendant's got the key to the main hall.

Only a couple of monks have that key.

Not even the old Abbot knew all
the stories behind the paintings.

He said: 'What did he look like?'

You know what happens when you
have to try and describe a person,

especially if you're
from a different country;

'I don't know, he just... was Thai.'

'He was wearing
traditional Thai clothes,' he said.

That was one interesting thing.

Not modern clothes.

Traditional Thai clothes.

'But what did he look like?'

And this American couldn't think
exactly what this guy looked like.

So he was scratching his head, literally,
because that's what Westerners do,

Thais don't do that.

Scratching his head.

And he stopped.

He was looking at a portrait

in the Abbot's office.

'It's him!'

'That's the one.'

'That's the one I met'.

That was a portrait

of one of the sponsors of that temple

when it was first built.

His Majesty King Rama V

who died

about 150 years prior to that incident.

That went down in the books.

A heavenly being

coming down to help a young man

become a monk.

And that's one of those amazing
real-life heavenly-being stories.

You can imagine,
it's in the books, happened.

That other guy, that monk,
lost contact with him a long time ago,

he went back to America,
not sure where he went to.

But this is amazing, what happens.

So, when you're
a good monk or a good nun,

there are lots of other beings
who will look after you.

Especially in a place
like Dhammasara.

I remember going there the first...

goosebumps.

I remember going there the first time

with Ajahn Cittapalo's brother.

When it was on auction.

Going in there

and chanting my heart out.

To actually get that place

for our Bhikkhuni Sangha.

You can feel this energy in that place.

Good beings looking after you.

That's why

we got it.

That's why

it's been a very
successful, beautiful monastery.

That is why –

sorry, fire demons.

You go find another place to burn.

But not Dhammasara.

That place

is safe.

Okay. There we go.

I thought that was
a rubbish talk tonight,

but I started on rubbish

and see where it went to.

So thank you all for listening.

Sadhu! Sadhu! Sadhu!
(all together)

I don't know how many
times I've told that story,

I usually tell that story in retreats,
but it still gives me goosebumps as well.

Ok, here we go for questions here today.

This is first from New Zealand.

'Many times my mind
will recall a random memory

that is embarrassing or painful.

It causes me intense emotion.

The past is often painful.

Can you offer insight?'

First of all, whatever
that random memory is

which causes you embarrassment or pain,

if you can share that story as
honestly you can with somebody you know

and trust –

because when it actually is not
inside of you, but it's outside,

it becomes far smaller,
less of a problem.

I've seen that many times,
I told that story few weeks ago,

about this woman, not far,

in Tuart Hill somewhere.

Tuart Hill, Dianella...

And she was dying.

And I asked her that once,
before she passed away:

'Is there anything
you've done in your life

which you're very ashamed of?'

And of course it took a while
to get her to confess to me.

And what she said
was that once in her life

she'd kissed another woman's husband.

And I asked 'Is that all you've done?'

She said 'Yes, I was so ashamed
of it, you're the first person I've told.'

So that's not bad, a whole life.

We can forgive you that one.

But for me, hearing that,
that was a small thing.

But for her, it was the most
terrible thing she'd ever done.

But once she actually
confessed it, let somebody know,

she also realized it wasn't that bad.

So if you can tell a person you trust,

a person who's kind,

who'll give you forgiveness straight away,

then you'll put it more in perspective.

It's the old story - how big is my hand?
My hand is so big because it's too close.

You put it away, where
other people can see it,

your hand is just of ordinary
size, it's not that big of a problem.

And then it will just...

the emotions will go away,
it's not such a bad thing you've done.

Also, at least have some friends

or some spiritual path

where it's ok to make mistakes.

So you don't have to be so perfect.

So you can accept

when you made mistakes,

embarrassing,
shameful things you've done.

And you learn from them.

You grow from them,
you become a better person.

From Germany.

'I have the habit of
collecting the garbage in me

and it doesn't fall though.

It disturbs or depressed me.

Can I do anything about that
or make it vanish? Thank you.'

Of course you can.

You're a rubbish bin, but you
forgot to put a hole in the bottom.

So see if you can just visualize...

visualize life.

It has some beautiful stuff,
and some unpleasant stuff.

And just have it so the beautiful stuff
goes in one side of the rubbish bin

and stays.

And the other part goes in
the other part and just disappears,

down the bottom.

Can you do that?

Do some visualization,
sometimes that helps.

But don't collect the garbage in you.

For goodness grace, just...

allow it to just go through you.

And then,

it just goes back into the soil

and generates new flowers
and fruits for another time.

But the garbage in you

is not worth collecting.

Now from Indonesia.

'Dear Ajahn Brahm,

Ajahn Chah emphasized his
teaching about impermanence.

How do we avoid feeling sad,

when we know our loved
ones are going to leave us?'

Because new loves ones
are gonna come in to your life.

That's impermanence.

You don't feel sad that
one concert is finished,

because you know this other band's coming

in a theatre close to you next week.

Yes, you do have many
people you love and care for,

but when they pass away,

you have other people
you can love and care for.

And this is life.

What a wonderful thing it is.

We have so many more opportunities

to care and have real love –
love which doesn't own something.

Ones which enjoy their time together,

when the day is finished,

good night, we had
a wonderful day together.

See you, maybe see someone else.

In your next life.

That's being truthful.

Realistic.

And it also means you're always open

to another person you can
have a wonderful time with.

And lastly, from Russia:

'Dear Ajahn Brahm, what would you advise,
if a person who has strong aspiration

to the highest Buddhist
achievement, but can't leave a lay life

because of commitments?

Having aspirations,
I've mentioned this before,

if you start with an aspiration,

it then leads to desperation,
when you can't achieve your aspiration,

and expiration

when you expire.

So instead of having aspirations,

learn how to be content.

This is good enough.

I'm happy to be here.

As I mentioned to some of you, that

during the Covid lockdown,
this was in Bangkok apparently,

the Thai Rath newspaper, which is the
biggest newspaper, most read newspaper,

daily newspaper in Thailand.

They carried one of my stories,

about the difference between
being free or being in prison.

And the only difference is that
any place you don't want to be

is called prison.

Any place you love
to be is called freedom.

It doesn't matter if it's like
somewhere they call Bangkok jail

or it's something you
call like Hilton 6-star hotel.

If you don't wanna be there,

that Hilton Hotel,

which many people get quarantined in,

it's like a prison.

It's really crazy, isn't it?

People spend some much money
trying to make these hotel rooms

or suites, whatever, just the most
comfortable thing in the world,

but if you don't wanna
be there, because it's lockdown

or you're quarantine,

you perceive it as a prison.

Me, being in lockdown
for five days over in Serpentine:

'Yaaaay, free!'

Actually, you felt free there.

Didn't have to talk to people after lunch.

It was great, because after lunch,
I have to go, as senior monk,

I have to sit down and wait and talk
to people about this and the other

same old stuff and same
old jokes you hear from me, so...

But then, this time,
as soon as I finished my meal,

I could go.

'Yaaaay, free!.'

You know what it's like, it's great!

So it's wonderful, lockdown,

it's more freedom

that I get when I'm in prison.

So what is prison?

So if you have a strong aspiration

to the highest Buddhist achievement,

just stop the aspiration.

All aspirations.

Learn how to be.

Learn how to be content.

Learn how to be kind.

These qualities,

those qualities,
not aspirations but qualities,

developing kindness,

contentment,

learn how to be happy where you are,

to enjoy the moment

and be able to let it go
as soon as it finishes.

Being a rubbish bin with

no bottom at all.

Infinite rubbish bin.

Always empty.

Always able to receive things.

Those are really nice things

to develop.

But don't aspire for them.

Give up all the aspirations.

And then they come to you.

That was the last question, but

just to show how they do come
to you, for those who don't know that,

I probably told it last week,
the donkey story?

Here we go, it's the old donkey story,

just to finish off with today.

Many of you know,
this is one of my favourites.

There was a donkey

and it just wouldn't pull the cart.

So the owner got a stick out
and tried to hit the donkey,

but the donkey wouldn't move.

But then

the owner figured out, how
to get the donkey to pull the cart:

he tied the stick to the donkey's neck,

so the front of the stick was
two foot in front of the donkey's head,

string on the end of the stick

and a carrot on the end of the string.

So the donkey saw
a carrot two foot in front of it.

Donkeys like carrots,

so the donkey went towards the carrot.

When the donkey went towards the carrot,
the carrot went away from the donkey.

Welcome to life.

I don't know how many carrots
you've been chasing in your life

or this last week,

but I think you can relate to that story.

That's how they get
donkeys to pull carts.

But,

when you come to this center,

you figure out how to catch the carrot.

Simple, really.

You run after that
carrot as fast as you can.

Doesn't matter how fast you run,

that carrot is still
two foot in front of you.

But then, you know how to...

stop.

Stop and let go.

So the little donkey stops
and the carrot goes further away.

Four foot away, never been
as far away before, you think

it's not working, this is
not working, it's not right.

You've got to aspire for something
and start chasing the carrot again.

But no, no, you have
a bit of faith and confidence.

Four foot away the carrot goes,

and then,

the carrot comes swinging towards you.

And soon it's two foot in front
as usual, but now coming at top speed,

it's never come as fast to you before.

And it comes and swings
right close to your mouth,

but the last thing you have to remember,

what many Buddhists forget.

Kindness, compassion.

When that carrot comes
right close to your mouth,

you have to remember

to say to that carrot:

'Carrot, the door of my
mouth is open to you.'

Otherwise, it bounces off your teeth.

Okay.

That's enough for the questions.

Sadhu! Sadhu! Sadhu!

Okay.

There we go.

Was that a rubbish talk, tonight?

Okay, let's pay respect to the
Buddha, Dhamma, Sangha.