Trust in the Dhamma

I feel a tremendous trust now. I feel confidence in what we call the Dhamma—in the Way Things Are—because it’s no longer important what happens to me, to this creature here. It’s no longer a worry. Whatever happens—the best, the worst, praise, blame, success, failure, leukemia, or robust good health till the age of ninety-five and a peaceful death as one sits down in meditation—feel confident that it’s all right the way it is. See it as Dhamma, rather than interpreting it and giving it a personal quality.

In Buddhism, we often talk about courage and fearlessness. Whenever we take the personal view, we are frightened, and we do cowardly things. We think, “I am going to suffer. What I love is going to be taken away from me. I’ll lose my health, be an invalid, feel pain. Nobody will love me, and I’ll be left alone. Life will be horrible. I’ll be lost, alone, unloved, in pain, old and sick, poor me!” That’s a lot to be frightened of, isn’t it? But when these fears are seen as Dhamma, then even the worst is bearable. We realize that this is not a permanent person or position that we are involved in. This is a transition from birth to death within the human form. And what we have, as human beings, is the opportunity to awaken between birth and death.

In the awakened mind, there is no fear. There is knowing, there is clarity, and it’s not personal. It’s not mine; it’s not yours. When all things cease, what remains is clarity, intelligence, brightness. We can call that “the true subject.” When people ask, “But what is my true nature?” I answer, “It’s peaceful, intelligent, calm, and bright. It’s deathlessness—but don’t take that personally.”

Ajahn Sumedho