I sincerely hope all who sees this is comforted, finds solace and gains deliverance .
by Ajahn Brahm
When you contemplate life you come to realize that it’s completely out of control. And whatever is out of control is none of your business. That’s a wonderful little saying that I’ve used in my meditation and that I encourage other people to use as well. Whatever you are experiencing, in the monastery or elsewhere, say to it, “Not my business.” W
hatever happens to the water supply, to people coming and going, to the food that is offered, to the weather, say to it, “It’s not my business.” It’s not your business to worry about what anyone else does or says to you; it’s their business, their kamma, nothing to do with you.
If you are sensitive to other people’s words and allow them to hurt or bully you, you should remember the Buddha’s advice to his son Rahula – to be like the earth (MN 62.13). People urinate and defecate on the earth; they vomit on it and burn it. All sorts of rubbish gets tossed on the earth, but the earth never complains; it just accepts everything. People also do some beautiful things on the earth. They plant gardens or, even better, they build monasteries. But the earth doesn’t react no matter what happens to it.
So be like the earth. Whatever people say or do, be immoveable. If they praise you or blame you, it’s their business. There’s no need to be affected by another person’s speech, whether good or bad. When you have the attitude of “None of my business,” it will never upset you.
It’s the same with the aches and pains in the body and with sickness. When you meditate, remind yourself they’re none of your business; they’re the body’s business – let the body look after them. Thinking like that is actually a powerful way of keeping the body healthy. It’s a strange thing that sometimes the more you worry about this body, the worse it gets. If you disengage from the body, sit still, and just allow the body to disappear, it tends to heal itself. It seems oftentimes when you try to control and organize things they only get worse, and it’s the same with your body. Sometimes, when you let it go and just relax, the body becomes so at ease that it heals itself. So just let go and forget about it.
I’ve known a lot of monks whose health problems disappeared through the power of their meditation. The first time I saw that was with Ajahn Tate. When I first went to Thailand i 1974, he was in the hospital with incurable cancer. They gave him the best possible treatment, but nothing would work, so they sent him back to his monastery to die. He died twenty-five years later. That’s one example of what happens when monks “go back to their monastery to die.” They go back and the live a long time. So you disengage from things – nibbida arises – and the mind turns away. It’s had enough, it doesn’t even want to look at them anymore, and you find that they fade away.
This is the process you read about in the suttas, nibbida leading to viraga, the fading away of things. When you regard something as none of your business, it fades away from your world. Consciousness doesn’t engage with it anymore; it doesn’t see, hear, feel, or know it. The way this works is as follows. Whatever you engage with is what takes hold in the mind – it’s where consciousness finds a footing and grows. You are building mental edifices. It’s very clear to me as a meditator that we create our own world. But when you disengage, you have no business there, and because you’re not interested in it, the whole thing just disappears from your consciousness. When you have nibbida you’re really “un-creating” your world.
( Excerpts from Ajahn brahm’s book : Art of disappearing, http://www.dhammaloka.org.au/books.html )