During a recent online event with Thai Forest monk and DRBU alumnus Ajahn Kovilo, we received more thoughtful questions than time allowed the Ajahn to address. We sent these remaining questions to him, and he graciously took the time to provide detailed responses. His additional insights offer valuable perspectives on the Buddhist path and practice. The following is the second part of Ajahn Kovilo’s responses; check our part one.

I’ve spent decades practicing in Goenkaji, Theravada, and Mahayana Buddhist practices. Given this background, how would you recommend a lay person like myself figure out a path to continuously deepen their practice? 

First, the Buddha said that having noble friendship—kalyāṇamitta, or beautiful spiritual friendship—is essential. This means befriending people who are at least on the same level as us when it comes to the quality of their practice of generosity, their commitment to moral living, their wisdom, and their dedication to meditation. It means choosing friends who are really good at being generous, or who are like superheroes in meditation, wisdom, letting go, and principled living—people whose presence radiates brightness, friendliness, and a deep capacity for metta (loving-kindness). 

That kind of friendship is huge. It cuts across any tradition. There are Goenka, Theravada, and Mahayana practitioners who are very good at all of those things. So it’s recommended to befriend people who are as skilled as we are—or even more so—and to ask them questions about their practice. You can ask them, “How can you be more generous? How do you keep your precepts? How do you meditate more? How does one meditate? How do you let go?” 

You do this without really attaching to these relationships, but there is a place for similarity of interest. For example, Goenka practitioners are great meditators, which means meditating with Goenka practitioners is quite beneficial for this practice. Theravada practitioners are especially strong when it comes to the monastic side of things. There’s an allowance for seclusion for monastics, for taking a step back and getting an outsider’s perspective on life. This means there is a place for retreat in life and for being an outsider if that outsider’s perspective is one of harmlessness and wisdom. 

And the Mahayana perspective is fantastic at inclusion. Theravada is great at seclusion; Mahayana is great at inclusion. In Mahayana traditions, every aspect of life, every moment—speaking, listening, standing, sitting, walking, lying down, formal practice and informal practice, day and night, all day long, every day—all of that is practice no matter what is being done. Practice is right here, right now. The Mahayana tradition is especially effective at bringing practice to that level.

My friend who is an Orthodox Christian has asked if the value of human life is greater than that of other sentient beings in Buddhism. And if so, on what basis? 

In other words, does Buddhism say that human life is greater than animal life? Certainly not in important ways. The Christian view—especially the overt biblical stance from Genesis to “be fruitful and multiply,” as well as the idea that mankind is allowed to use animals for their benefit, does not exist at all in Buddhism. The precept about not killing extends to all animals. The 10th Commandment precept of “Thou shalt not kill” is generally just understood to apply to humans. There are also many places in the Bible which actually not only condone but advocate animal sacrifice. We want to be careful not to engage in fault-finding when it comes to scripture, and to hold these differences lightly—but it’s also important to recognize that Buddhism is not human-centric. It says animal life should be cherished as well. 

What Buddhism points out is that humans have the unique capacity to examine how they use their lives and the choices they make. As we discussed earlier, the Buddha defined karma as intention. The human capacity for intelligent intention, retrospection, and metacognition is simply undeniably greater than that of a one-celled organism, an insect, a bird, and most mammals. We have the capacity, for example, to choose not to kill. Meanwhile, there’s a biological imperative for most animals to cause harm, and less cerebral capacity to choose harmlessness. So in this way, there’s a unique human capacity for choice. This is the basis for the value of being born as a human: we have this human brain which can choose. 

In Buddhism, there is also rebirth to consider. If we’re living like an animal in this life, simply following all of our capricious whims of greed, anger, and delusion, then in the next life we can be born as an animal. Our cerebral capacity for choice and intelligence will be impacted by that. 

The question continues… 

He argues that if the human perception of superiority is based on capacity, then Buddhism runs the risk of seeing those with mental and or physical handicaps as “less than human.”

That just doesn’t follow, because Buddhists don’t agree to the premise. Hopefully that’s clear now. 

Do you need to be a monastic to gain stream entry? 

The answer is a strong “No, you don’t.” However, one does need to really commit one’s life to practice, because the Buddha says that stream entry is a difficult thing to do. Extremely few are the beings who attain stream entry. But for everyone who practices the path of stream entry, if they’re really committed to it—if they give their lives and their moments to it—they will attain it. Because that’s what stream entry depends on: its causes. So if we put in those causes, whether we’re wearing robes or not, we will attain that goal. 

The question continues… 

Or can you be a lay person in practice, say, for four hours a day? 

Yes, regardless of how many hours we sit in meditation, and regardless of whether we’re a lay person or a monastic, the path is one of intention. If we’re generating more greed, anger, and delusion while meditating—and not generating those qualities when we’re not meditating—then the “not meditating” is actually better than the “meditating.” Whether we’re wearing robes or wearing normal clothing, if we’re acting from mental states, from mind moments, of non-greed, non-anger, and non-delusion, then this is the path. 

That said, there is more social acceptance for practice in monastic life. A monastic life and the monastic role is one which draws you into a sub-society that has different norms and different values. There aren’t any overarching views and normal values in typical American society. It’s basically a complete plurality of confusion, largely fueled by media, advertising, hedonism, and materialism—essentially an anarchy of views. By contrast, when you enter into a monastic setting, there’s a coherency of views. For instance, every monastic and monastic community places value on non-greed and non-anger. This is extremely important, as is the value placed on meditation. 

When you enter into this kind of culture, everyone around you supports you in your aspiration to purify the heart from the lusts and aversions, both big and small, that we all carry. Meanwhile, outside of a monastic setting, oftentimes we are rewarded for our aversions and cravings. That’s why a monastic life can be so beneficial to your practice. But if you live in a lay sub-culture where those around you support and encourage a peaceful life of generosity and loving kindness, then that’s wonderful. You don’t need to be a monastic to gain stream entry, but you do need to practice extremely sincerely.  Including right now, in this very moment.

Sadhu.