“How can I ever repay you for your teaching?”

Good meditation teachers often hear this question from their students, and the best answer I know for it is one that my teacher, Ajaan Fuang, gave every time:

“By being intent on practicing.”

Each time he gave this answer, I was struck by how noble and gracious it was. And it wasn't just a formality. He never tried to find opportunities to pressure his students for donations. Even when our monastery was poor, he never acted poor, never tried to take advantage of their gratitude and trust. This was a refreshing change from some of my previous experiences with run-of-the-mill village and city monks who were quick to drop hints about their need for donations from even stray or casual visitors.

Eventually I learned that Ajaan Fuang's behavior is common throughout the Forest Tradition. It's based on a passage in the Pali Canon where the Buddha on his deathbed states that the highest homage to him is not material homage, but the homage of practicing the Dhamma in accordance with the Dhamma. In other words, the best way to repay a teacher is to take the Dhamma to heart and to practice it in a way that fulfills his or her compassionate purpose in teaching it. I was proud to be part of a tradition where the inner wealth of this noble idea was actually lived — where, as Ajaan Fuang often put it, we weren't reduced to hirelings, and the act of teaching the Dhamma was purely a gift.

So I was saddened when, on my return to America, I had my first encounters with the dana talk: the talk on giving and generosity that often comes at the end of a retreat. The context of the talk — and often the content — makes clear that it's not a disinterested exercise. It's aimed at generating gifts for the teacher or the organization sponsoring the retreat, and it places the burden of responsibility on the retreatants to ensure that future retreats can occur. The language of the talk is often smooth and encouraging, but when contrasted with Ajaan Fuang's answer, I found the sheer fact of the talk ill-mannered and demeaning. If the organizers and teachers really trusted the retreatants' good-heartedness, they wouldn't be giving the talk at all. To make matters worse, the typical dana talk — along with its companion, the meditation-center fundraising letter — often cites the example of how monks and nuns are supported in Asia as justification for how dana is treated here in the West. But they're taking as their example the worst of the monks, and not the best.

I understand the reasoning behind the talk. Lay teachers here aspire to the ideal of teaching for free, but they still need to eat. And, unlike the monastics of Asia, they don't have a long-standing tradition of dana to fall back on. So the dana talk was devised as a means for establishing a culture of dana in a Western context. But as so often is the case when new customs are devised for Western Buddhism, the question is whether the dana talk skillfully translates Buddhist principles into the Western context or seriously distorts them. The best way to answer this question is to take a close look at those principles in their original context.

It's well known that dana lies at the beginning of Buddhist practice. Dana, quite literally, has kept the Dhamma alive. If it weren't for the Indian tradition of giving to mendicants, the Buddha would never have had the opportunity to explore and find the path to Awakening. The monastic sangha wouldn't have had the time and opportunity to follow his way. Dana is the first teaching in the graduated discourse: the list of topics the Buddha used to lead listeners step-by-step to an appreciation of the four noble truths, and often from there to their own first taste of Awakening. When stating the basic principles of karma, he would begin with the statement, “There is what is given.”

What's less well known is that in making this statement, the Buddha was not dealing in obvious truths or generic platitudes, for the topic of giving was actually controversial in his time. For centuries, the brahmans of India had been extolling the virtue of giving — as long as the gifts were given to them. Not only that, gifts to brahmans were obligatory. People of other castes, if they didn't concede to the brahmans' demands for gifts, were neglecting their most essential social duty. By ignoring their duties in the present life, such people and their relatives would suffer hardship both now and after death.

As might be expected, this attitude produced a backlash. Several of the samana, or contemplative, movements of the Buddha's time countered the brahmans' claims by asserting that there was no virtue in giving at all. Their arguments fell into two camps. One camp claimed that giving carried no virtue because there was no afterlife. A person was nothing more than physical elements that, at death, returned to their respective spheres. That was it. Giving thus provided no long-term results. The other camp stated that there was no such thing as giving, for everything in the universe has been determined by fate. If a donor gives something to another person, it's not really a gift, for the donor has no choice or free will in the matter. Fate was simply working itself out.

So when the Buddha, in his introduction to the teaching on karma, began by saying that there is what is given, he was repudiating both camps. Giving does give results both now and on into the future, and it is the result of the donor's free choice. However, in contrast to the brahmans, the Buddha took the principle of freedom one step further. When asked where a gift should be given, he stated simply, “Wherever the mind feels inspired.” In other words — aside from repaying one's debt to one's parents — there is no obligation to give. This means that the choice to give is an act of true freedom, and thus the perfect place to start the path to total release.

This is why the Buddha adopted dana as the context for practicing and teaching the Dhamma. But — to maintain the twin principles of freedom and fruitfulness in giving — he created a culture of dana that embodied particularly Buddhist ideals. To begin with, he defined dana not simply as material gifts. The practice of the precepts, he said, was also a type of dana — the gift of universal safety, protecting all beings from the harm of one's unskillful actions — as was the act of teaching the Dhamma. This meant that lavish giving was not just the prerogative of the rich. Secondly, he formulated a code of conduct to produce an attitude toward giving that would benefit both the donors and the recipients, keeping the practice of giving both fruitful and free.

We tend not to associate codes of conduct with the word “freedom,” but that's because we forget that freedom, too, needs protection, especially from the attitude that wants to be free in its choices but feels insecure when others are free in theirs. The Buddha's codes of conduct are voluntary — he never coerced anyone into practicing his teachings — but once they are adopted, they require the cooperation of both sides to keep them effective and strong.

These codes are best understood in terms of the six factors that the Buddha said exemplified the ideal gift:

“The donor, before giving, is glad; while giving, his/her mind is inspired; and after giving, is gratified. These are the three factors of the donor…

“The recipients are free of passion or are practicing for the subduing of passion; free of aversion or practicing for the subduing of aversion; and free of delusion or practicing for the subduing of delusion. These are the three factors of the recipients.”

— AN 6.37

Although this passage seems to suggest that each side is responsible only for the factors on its side, the Buddha's larger etiquette for generosity shows that the responsibility for all six factors — and in particular, the three factors of the donor — is shared. And this shared responsibility flourishes best in an atmosphere of mutual trust.

For the donors, this means that if they want to feel glad, inspired, and gratified at their gift, they should not see the gift as payment for personal services rendered by individual monks or nuns. That would turn the gift into wages, and deprive it of its emotional power. Instead, they'd be wise to look for trustworthy recipients: people who are training — or have trained — their minds to be cleaned and undefiled. They should also give their gift in a respectful way so that the act of giving will reinforce the gladness that inspired it, and will inspire the recipient to value their gift.

The responsibilities of the recipients, however, are even more stringent. To ensure that the donor feels glad before giving, monks and nuns are forbidden from pressuring the donor in any way. Except when ill or in situations where the donor has invited them to ask, they cannot ask for anything beyond the barest emergency necessities. They are not even allowed to give hints about what they'd like to receive. When asked where a prospective gift should be given, they are told to follow the Buddha's example and say, “Give wherever your gift would be used, or would be well-cared for, or would last long, or wherever your mind feels inspired.” This conveys a sense of trust in the donor's discernment — which in itself is a gift that gladdens the donor's mind.

To ensure that a donor feels inspired while giving a gift, the monks and nuns are enjoined to receive gifts attentively and with an attitude of respect. To ensure that the donor feels gratified afterward, they should live frugally, care for the gift, and make sure it is used in an appropriate way. In other words, they should show that the donor's trust in them is well placed. And of course they must work on subduing their greed, anger, and delusion. In fact, this is a primary motivation for trying to attain arahantship: so that the gifts given to one will bear the donors great fruit.

By sharing these responsibilities in an atmosphere of trust, both sides protect the freedom of the donor. They also foster the conditions that will enable not only the practice of generosity but also the entire practice of Dhamma to flourish and grow.

The principles of freedom and fruitfulness also govern the code the Buddha formulated specifically for protecting the gift of Dhamma. Here again, the responsibilities are shared. To ensure that the teacher is glad, inspired, and gratified in teaching, the listeners are advised to listen with respect, to try to understand the teaching, and — once they're convinced that it's genuinely wise — to sincerely put it into practice so as to gain the desired results. Like a monk or nun receiving a material gift, the recipient of the gift of Dhamma has the simple responsibility of treating the gift well.

The teacher, meanwhile, must make sure not to regard the act of teaching as a repayment of a debt. After all, monks and nuns repay their debt to their lay donors by trying to rid their minds of greed, aversion, and delusion. They are in no way obligated to teach, which means that the act of teaching is a gift free and clear. In addition, the Buddha insisted that the Dhamma be taught without expectation of material reward. When he was once offered a “teacher's fee” for his teaching, he refused to accept it and told the donor to throw it away. He also established the precedent that when a monastic teaches the rewards of generosity, the teaching is given after a gift has been given, not before, so that the stain of hinting won't sully what's said.

All of these principles assume a high level of nobility and restraint on both sides of the equation, which is why people tried to find ways around them even while the Buddha was alive. The origin stories to the monastic discipline — the tales portraying the misbehavior that led the Buddha to formulate rules for the monks and nuns — often tell of monastics whose gift of Dhamma came with strings attached, and of lay people who gladly pulled those strings to get what they wanted out of the monastics: personal favors served with an ingratiating smile. The Buddha's steady persistence in formulating rules to cut these strings shows how determined he was that the principle of Dhamma as a genuinely free gift not be an idle ideal. He wanted it to influence the way people actually behaved.

He never gave an extended explanation of why the act of teaching should always be a gift, but he did state in general terms that when his code of conduct became corrupt over time, that would corrupt the Dhamma as well. And in the case of the etiquette of generosity, this principle has been borne out frequently throughout Buddhist history.

A primary example is recorded in the Apadanas, which scholars believe were added to the Canon after King Asoka's time. The Apadanas discuss the rewards of giving in a way that shows how eager the monks composing them were to receive lavish gifts. They promise that even a small gift will bear fruit as guaranteed arahantship many eons in the future, and that the path from now to then will always be filled with pleasure and prestige. Attainments of special distinction, though, require special donations. Some of these donations bear a symbolic resemblance to the desired distinction — a gift of lighted lamps, for instance, presages clairvoyance — but the preferred gift of distinction was a week's worth of lavish meals for an entire monastery, or at least for the monks who teach.

It's obvious that the monks who composed the Apadanas were giving free rein to their greed, and were eager to tell their listeners what their listeners wanted to hear. The fact that these texts were recorded for posterity shows that the listeners, in fact, were pleased. Thus the teachers and their students, acting in collusion, skewed the culture of dana in the direction of their defilements. In so doing they distorted the Dhamma as well. If gift-giving guarantees Awakening, it supplants the noble eightfold path with the one-fold path of the gift. If the road to Awakening is always prestigious and joyful, the concept of right effort disappears. Yet once these ideas were introduced into the Buddhist tradition, they gained the stamp of authority and have affected Buddhist practice ever since. Throughout Buddhist Asia, people tend to give gifts with an eye to their symbolic promise of future reward; and the list of gifts extolled in the Apadanas reads like a catalog of the gifts placed on altars throughout Buddhist Asia even today.

Which goes to show that once the culture of dana gets distorted, it can distort the practice of Dhamma as a whole for many centuries. So if we're serious about bringing the culture of dana to the West, we should be very careful to ensure that our efforts honor the principles that make dana a genuinely Buddhist practice. This means no longer using the tactics of modern fundraising to encourage generosity among retreatants or Buddhists in general. It also means rethinking the dana talk, for on many counts it fails the test. In pressuring retreatants to give to teachers, it doesn't lead to gladness before giving, and instead sounds like a plea for a tip at the end of a meal. The frequent efforts to pull on the retreatants' heartstrings as a path to their purse strings betray a lack of trust in their thoughtfulness and leave a bad taste. And the entire way dana is handled for teachers doesn't escape the fact that it's payment for services rendered. Whether teachers think about this consciously or not, it pressures them subtly to tell their listeners what they think their listeners want to hear. The Dhamma can't help but suffer as a result.

The ideal solution would be to provide a framework whereby serious Dhamma practitioners could be supported whether or not they taught. That way, the act of teaching would be a genuine gift. In the meantime, though, a step in the direction of a genuine culture of dana would be to declare a moratorium on all dana talks at the end of retreats, and on references to the Buddhist tradition of dana in fundraising appeals, so as to give the word time to recover its dignity.

On retreats, dana could be discussed in a general way, in the context of the many Dhamma talks given on how best to integrate Dhamma practice in daily life. At the end of the retreat, a basket could be left out for donations, with a note that the teacher hasn't been paid to teach the retreat. That's all. No appeals for mercy. No flashcards. Sensitive retreatants will be able to put two and two together, and will feel glad, inspired, and gratified that they were trusted to do the math for themselves.

- No Strings Attached: The Buddha's Culture of Generosity by Thanissaro Bhikkhu

I have taken refuge... it was just a verbal ritual, perhaps an intention. Im not sure what it really means. Is it explained in detail in the pitaka? Im (as far as my instinctual assumptions go) happy with my relationship to the dhamma (read and consider etc) and sanga (find, respect, listen to, remember(ish), and internalize teachings of those I consider w attainments (Bhodi, Thanassaro...). But how do you (yeah, you) practice refuge in the Buddha? Ive started to listen (rarely read) historical accounts of his life and am considering Jataka tales (I thought they were extra-canonical but apparently not). Am I on the right track?

When The Buddha learned the teachings of Alara Kalama and Udaku Ramaputa he was not satisfied because they did not bring him to the state of cessation, unbinding, nibbana. Where did these concepts and words come from?

Worldly happiness is a soap bubble. I used this title to describe the happiness of this world which is as fragile as a soap bubble. For a soap bubble, people kill, hold wrong views, steal, commit sexual misconduct, lie, insult, and spread rumours to destroy and poison their minds and bodies. Think of a 4-year-old child who has fun creating a huge soap bubble and sees his bubble explode. He's going to start crying, isn't he? Think when his kindergarten friend creates a bubble bigger than his, he's going to get angry, right? He even risks going so far as to burst his friend's bubble out of jealousy. The bubble by its nature is destined to burst regardless of whether it is big or not. It lasts only a moment and eventually disappears.

It seems a ridiculous example, but worldly beings are children! Lord Buddha is like the grandfather in the play who says "Don't argue over bubbles my children, please!" Replace soap bubbles with beautiful houses, natural resources, gold, money, mansions, celebrity, glory, territories, a respectable career, a family, and a pleasant and pretty partner. Replace your kindergarten friend with someone who is a victim of our jealousy. Because of jealousy people are ready to destroy the lives of others, aren't they? All this to end up in the apayas! Isn't that sad?

At any moment like a bubble, our dreams and hopes can vanish. Don't you see celebrities on TV losing their reputation in scandals? Don't you see entire families being destroyed as a result of divorce, war, natural disaster or accident? Don't you see people losing their fortune and going bankrupt? Don't you see people losing their careers as a result of a shutdown? Anariya's (non-noble) happiness is a soap bubble, my friends.

Ariya's (noble) happiness is genuine and more solid than the hardest matter in the universe! Nothing in this world can destroy it. Knowing this, it would be unreasonable to do not try to reach at least the sotāpanna stage to be free from the 4 stages of misery!

Im a 24M who's spent my entire life in a very developed country. I've been blessed with a comfortable upbringing. Growing up, I enjoyed annual vacations worldwide, and my childhood was filled with loving care from family and friends. I have fond memories of having many friends during my childhood and teenage years. Most of them were very good memories as we travelled together, had stay overs etc etc

In my early 20s, I met a few people who brought me wonderful experiences in life. I no longer talked to them anymore due to external circumstances that are within our control.

Through many sittings of meditation, I realised that my strongest attachment are past experiences and friendships. I'm struggling to let go of nostalgia, missing the connections and friendships I had with people. I miss a lot of people and the experiences that we had. We stopped hanging out because everyone is starting their own career, building their own lives, and some migrated. And this has caused me some sadness because I feel that I will no longer experience all of these as I am already 24 yo. And I also just stepped into the corporate world.

Im privilege to be born in a comfortable middle class family in a highly developed country, with many good friends and experiences. I am very attached to them. I have tried to detach during my meditation sessions, but my attachment always grow bigger. And I miss them so much. Any tips to detach? Because I don't want to come back again in my next life

My 16 years old niece ask me what book she should read to learn about Buddhism. Any recommendations?

removed

What is a substancial but managable introduction and overview of the Theravada?

This stems from a question " You should also delve into the entire tradition of Theravada." Posted in the "Canon resources for Vipassana and Samatha? " thread.

I have a Kindle book, a Simple Guide to Theravada Buddhism by Diana and Richard Saint Ruth (2007). It's a tourist guide to Buddhist Culture prior to touring South Asia really.

eISBN: 978-1-85733-632-0

Surely there is by concensus a tome concidered THE BOOK on the matter. 😁

What is ākiñcaññāyatana ?

What is nevasaññānāsaññāyatanaṁ ?

Dear all, I have a question on the Dhammanupassana part of Mahasatipatthana Sutta. In the Section of Hindrances, the passage goes like this.

1. He understands that Sense desire is present in me
2. He understands that Sense desire is absent in me
3. He understands how sense desire that has not yet arisen in him comes to arise
4. He understands that how sense desire that now has arisen in him gets eradicated
5. He understands how the sense desire that has now been eradicated, will in future no longer arise in him

Of the given five steps above, i understand one to four but finding it hard to grasp the fifth. Let me explain with an example.

I get an unwholesome thought

1. I understand that a thought has arisen and it is unwholesome and is in the territory or sense desire

2. If it is absent I just note that it is absent

3. I understand that phassa/contact with six sense spheres is the root cause of this sense desire to arise

4. I understand that once the sense desire has arisen, if I note it and be mindful about it, it subsides. Upekka/Equanimity helps in eradicaton for that given moment for that given thought

5. I fail to understand that once a sense desire is eradicated how it will not manifest again.

In this case how to get full and final departure from the sense desire by following satipatthana?

Thanks a lot Metta!

To those of you who aren't near a theravada temple or monastery, how do you find a sense of community (other than reddit)? Online sanghas? Travel? Other meditation groups? Other Buddhist groups? I've struggled with finding like-minded spiritual friends my whole life, and I find myself longing for it even more the older I get. I've even considered moving away from friends and family just to have it.

Hello there! First post on here. I've been getting closer to buddhism for some years now, particularly in the therevada tradition, but i'm still no expert to the least. I've been wanting to start practicing Vipassana and Samatha meditations, but cannot find any source that seem reliable and canon, and would rather refrain from interpreted versions of the practices. Is there any canon text one could consult? If not, and only taught in monasteries, do you have any good manuals/books/guides (i guess?) or resources of some kind to suggest? Thanks in advance to anyone who is willing to help! :) I'm sorry if this sounds like an uneducated question, I'm still just trying to learn. I'd love to stay as close to the Teachings as possible. Love

I’m not joyful sometimes because I compare myself to others. It is not the comparison that takes my joy away, but rather the inferiority the comparison brings.

I see a man who has more muscle strength and height than me, therefore I am angry to look at myself.

I see that women are attracted to this man over me, therefore I do not want them as a partner,therefore I am alone . I see men who are physically inferior to me, and many times they project their anger to me. So I don’t spend time making friends with them, nor do I go out of my way to make friends with other males. I usually only see them as competition in the grand scheme of power.

Although many times when I see a man who is superior to me in physicallness I project nothing to them, rather I fantasize about destroying them in fight. It seems this is the only thing my mind can do to persevere ego.

How does one become happy in this life when everything is based on ego and power? I mean, better asked: I wish to not play this dual game called life that brings emotions of hell and heaven. But inevitably I am here. If I could end it all and go to a heaven realm I would, but subsequently that leads to hell.

Life just seems absolutely unfair, and genetically I can do nothing about it. I am not angry, I am not happy. I just feel so numb.

If you were physically lame or mentally lame, and all you see is apex humans, how do you feel bliss and not hate life?

Pick up trash.

I had a meeting with an Ajhan a few weeks ago. He recommended that I volunteer somehow, even if its something informal like picking up trash. He didn't specify why it would be a good thing to do though.

I went out and bought one of those gripping claws and started picking up trash. The thing is that I've been thinking about doing it for a few years anyway but never did.

Within seconds greed, hatered and delusion reared their heads.

I've always been mad that people litter, I've always wanted people to stop. I've been selfish and greedy by not doing anything to help make the world a cleaner place. I've been delusional in thinking that people would ever fully stop littering.

I've now cleaned up probably 1000 times the amount of litter that I've put out in my life time. It feels good and is still a practice of not letting those three things interrupt the good feelings that come from picking up the trash.

Maybe some of you would benefit from the practice also.

... I suggest using a 5 gallon bucket instead of a trash bag.. Its easier to put the trash in and less likely to rip.

It is ultimately my goal to visit Wat Pah Nanachat one day after going on practice retreats elsewhere but I am worried about their mental health policy stating that if you have ever had depressive symptoms in the past they will deny you a visit.

I am autistic and have undergone psychiatric care for related depression and anxiety. I am just a bit confused by their wording, they say they must prove you are healthy in body and mind but will deny you if you have had past depressive episodes. Yet their pdf "A note on mental health" asks that when you arrive at the monastery you let them know of any mental health problems of the past or present.

I am just confused, is this to mean that they will let you get up to the monastery then turn you away if you tell them you have a mental health history.

How does one go about proving they are mentally fit for the visit?

For German speakers, Bhante Daniel from Jethavaranama Monastery offers sermons in German. He was a teacher in Germany before coming to Sri Lanka to become a bhikkhu. Bhante Daniel also speaks English and a little French. We frequently hold online meetings and have very fruitful Dhamma discussions. In fact, I have one scheduled for this morning. Everyone can meet him if they want.

If you're interested in attending an online meeting with him, I can connect you with a devotee at the monastery who will arrange the meeting based on Bhante's availability. Feel free to message me if you would like more information.

Here is his YouTube channel where he explains the Dhamma in German : Eine Neue Sicht

https://youtu.be/RPtU-X09zQU?si=u40nRZoHESNvNml4

https://preview.redd.it/co5blb6147xd1.png?width=2048&format=png&auto=webp&s=c5ae78e9c0a4b04a399ec850a1ed322ce600201e

Nuns or Samaneri-s

Soon to be ordained

Ordination event

After ordination - new samanera-s (novice monks)

ဝန်းသိုဆရာတော်ဘုရားကြီး

Sorry for the silly question- but who is 'MA' referred to in the footnotes by Bhikkhu Bodhi in his translation of the Majjhima Nikaya?

Dvihetuka Puggala (Two rooted)

Some persons are reborn as human and Devas for their good deeds without the accompaniment of amoha (insight knowledge) or even with amoha the deed was done with weak cetana or some dissatisfaction, they are endowed with only two hetukas in their patisandhi cittas - alobha and adosa. Hence they become dvihetuka (two rooted) individuals.

These types of people have no opportunity to attain jhana, Magga or Phala (attainment) in the present life. But they can become tihetuka persons in the next life if they meditate kammatthana and follow the virtuous path. Therefore they should endeavor to practice bhávaná in this life so as to make it a habit in future lives.

Tihetuka Puggala (Three rooted)

Due to tihetuka kusala citta, one can be reborn in the human world or in the abode of Devas, as a tihetuka individual who is intelligent and wise and can achieve jhana. They can also attain Magga and Phala if they become accomplished in parami perfections. Today we can find quite a number of tihetuka persons. Only laziness and lack of discipline prevent them from becoming ariya person

The Four Types of Individuals

Edited Broken Link

In Ajahn Mun Bhuridatta’s teachings on “True Dharma and False Dharma”, he distinguishes between how Dharma manifests within unenlightened minds versus enlightened ones. When the teachings of the Buddha enter the mind of a “puthujjana” (ordinary person), they become susceptible to distortions—known as saddhamma-patirupa, or “false Dharma.” However, when they take root in the mind of an ariya (noble one), they remain pure, untainted, and unwavering from the original truth.

Ajahn Mun explains that merely studying scriptural teachings is insufficient for spiritual liberation. Real insight arises when one applies sila (virtue), samadhi (concentration), and panna (wisdom) through direct practice. This application transforms abstract knowledge into lived experience, preserving the “pure Dharma” as it was intended.

Ajahn Mun’s reflections from Muttodaya offer a reminder: theoretical knowledge is only a starting point; realization and purification of the mind require sincere effort and practice. Through such practice, one experiences the truth directly rather than intellectually, preventing deviation from the original teachings and ensuring they remain unaltered in one’s understanding.

I'm reading manual of insight and I asked a bhante at a local monastery (they are from sri lanka) if he is faniliar with this meditation style and if he recommends that. He said he was familiar, and it would result in developing concentration, but it is not what buddha taught and he wouldn't recommend it for that reason. I was kind of surprised by this because reading the Manual, it seems like there are constant references to the scripture. Is it true this method is inconsistent with the Buddha's teaching?

Edit: he did specify he had read Manual of Insight, we were not just discussing the retreat centers , however he did bring up Goenka and compared him to that. I agree Goenka centres have some problems and I wouldn't recommend them either but I am suprised by the comparison

Many of us have a tendency to want to gain something from our vipassana (insight meditation) practice. We may want peace, happiness or to realise enlightenment.All of these can be a result of the practice, but craving for them to arise can be a source of frustration and tension when they don't seem to be developing. Changing our attitude to vipassana can release all these difficulties.

I found this quote helpful . It is from Paul Harris, teacher at the Aukana Trust Buddhist meditation centre.

"In order to practise Vipassana, you have to learn how to pay attention to the right things. You have to learn how to bring the mind into a happy, balanced place, that is to say resting content in the here and now. Not casting off into the past, not casting off into the future. Vipassana is an exploration of the here and now. It isn’t so much searching for something, it is exploring something."