The Ecology of Wisdom
Wisdom (paññā) is a highly prized quality in Buddhist teachings. It typically comes at the end of lists, as a fruition of earlier work. It is represented as a light that illuminates reality or as a knife that cuts the cords binding the mind to its repetitive, fruitless patterns. In general, paññā is practical knowledge for living peacefully, and more specifically, it entails discerning what is wholesome or skillful from what is unwholesome or unskillful, especially as this relates to suffering / stress / unsatisfactoriness (dukkha) and its end.
As befits such an encompassing quality, wisdom is not presented as a single thing; it has a number of dimensions. Classically, three types are discerned, which enhance and balance each other. Robust wisdom is an ecosystem that includes all three types, strong and harmonious.
Threefold wisdom
They are: (1) Wisdom that comes from “hearing” (sutāmayapaññā); (2) wisdom that comes from thought and reflection (cintāmayapaññā); (3) wisdom that comes from meditation (bhāvanāmayapaññā). We’ll explore these below.
One sutta that shows these three in action is MN 95, in which the key teaching is a version of how the path can unfold. First, the practitioner chooses a teacher in which to place initial trust (already a simple form of wisdom – discerning a truly wise person). From this person, they hear the Dharma, listening carefully and even memorizing the teachings. Then they reflect on what they have heard, turning it over and examining it until they gain acceptance of the teachings. Then zeal arises to practice meditation, through which the practitioner discovers what is true – “penetrating it with wisdom.”
It is important to hear the Dharma. In the Buddha’s time, hearing a teacher’s words was literally the only way to be exposed to teachings; nothing was written down and most people were illiterate anyway. Now we also have recorded talks, preserved texts, and other Dharma books. Although we sometimes meet these in a purely cognitive way, the full meaning of “hearing” (suta) goes deeper.
We are meant to listen deeply, perhaps with the whole body, letting the words penetrate, breathing with them. The experience can be enhanced by the evocative imagery often found in the Dharma. Some of the Buddha’s teachings in the suttas take on a new dimension when they are seen almost as guided meditations. We are told that the repetitive nature of the wording in the suttas functions pragmatically, as these were transmitted orally. This is true, but is it the whole truth? The gentle wash of wave after wave of clear wisdom can erode even deeply entrenched ignorance.
Meanwhile, we are also learning the structure of the Buddha’s teachings. How we organize experience matters greatly in how we respond to it. The various lists that have come down to us are not just “one way of talking about it” – they help shape our interpretation of sensory input in a specific and useful way, such that we are more likely to respond in line with the path to liberation.
When we bring a personal problem to a teacher and describe it in terms of reactive emotions and self, they are likely to point us toward more skillful ways of meeting it: As sensations, perhaps (where is the anger in your body? What does it feel like?); or as a hindrance (what are you wishing would go away? Do you recognize the aversion? Can you be with that?); or as views (what belief is underlying this anger? Is it always true?). The teacher speaks from the underlying Dharma structure, consciously or not, knowing where to draw the student’s attention in order to be onward-leading.
As noted in AN 5.202: “There are these five rewards in listening to the Dhamma. Which five?
One hears what one has not heard before. One clarifies what one has heard before. One gets rid of doubt. One's views are made straight. One's mind grows serene.”
This shades into the next form of wisdom. It is natural to contemplate Dharma teachings to which we have listened carefully. We resonate with the teaching in the moment, and then that resonance carries out to interact with our life. Cintāmayapaññā does not have to involve “figuring it out” or creating a transactional demand that the Dharma help solve a personal problem right now.
Rather, this type of contemplation is humble and respectful, a testing of our tentative understanding in the very real arena of our life. Sometimes it is as simple as trying out a new way of looking at a situation. For example, in MN 61, the Buddha instructs his son Rāhula to reflect before doing an action (by body, speech, or thought) whether or not it might bring harm to himself, another, or both. If so, he should refrain from doing it. And similarly, while he is doing an action, he should reflect on whether it is actually bringing harm, and stop if it is. And again afterward. If we are experiencing repeated suffering in a relationship or at work, might we pause to consider more precisely when and how the harm is coming about?
This simple framework actually goes very deep and can help us identify different layers of suffering and new ways to respond in line with the Dharma. It’s a bit lazy to bluntly claim that “her annoying demeanor is causing the harm.” Rather, we might discover that our body language is aggressive, or we carry a mind of ill will, or we are inwardly allowing her demeanor to destroy our equanimity and good will.
This aspect of wisdom can also include some “experiments” performed in our daily life. We might play with “mindfulness cues” around the house, such as sticky notes. These are wonderful little reminders to keep us on track – and we may also discover that they fade in effectiveness as we get accustomed to them. We have both strengthened our good qualities directly and gained some wisdom about how the mind needs freshness in its practice.
More dramatically, our contemplations may prompt us to change jobs to align with Right Livelihood or to allow us the space to do more retreats. This happened to me early in my practice. When the Buddha suggests that we try out these teachings for ourselves, he meant for us to go beyond just listening to Dharma talks!
The combination of sutāmayapaññā and cintāmayapaññā further deepen the shaping of the mind’s cognition to the structure of the Buddhadharma. This includes our way of thinking and some of our emotions. For instance, we may learn the steps of the Eightfold Path and notice that they touch all aspects of life through the development of ethical conduct, meditation, and wisdom. Then we might think about whether it makes sense that developing these areas would lead toward peace, and how our life matches up in these eight areas. We also tend to experience fewer reactive emotions through engagement with Dharma teachings because they point toward present-moment awareness, which dampens the impulsive effect of reactions.
As we calm down and get aligned, it is natural to be drawn to meditative cultivation – the third area that brings wisdom. Here is where we can really start to see how the mind works and gain some deeper discernment of what is skillful and unskillful – beyond what we could think about and perhaps even discover through daily-life exercises. In Buddhist understanding, meditation is the game-changer.
Meditation opens us to universal understandings of how the human mind-body system works, of which our personal challenges are seen to be just case studies. This can feel quite exciting – the texts speak of “zeal” arising – and it can awaken many bright Dharma qualities such as confidence, energy, samvega (healthy desire for awakening), and joy. Bhāvanāmayapaññā emerges from clear seeing of the functioning of the mind.
Eventually, there comes a penetrative wisdom that cuts through or sees through our deluded way of operating, opening to insights that can substantially change our life. We can have deep insights from the other two kinds of wisdom also, but meditation amplifies, broadens, and stabilizes them into ongoing resources.
Ecology
In a healthy ecological system, the components balance and strengthen each other. Each of the three types of wisdom contains the possibility of imbalance, but all three together avoid imbalance.
Simply hearing the Dharma can become abstract, such that the teachings cannot penetrate the heart. In some cases, people use an intellectual engagement to avoid difficult material – it’s easier to read another Dharma book than face our inner pain directly. The other two kinds of wisdom ensure that the Dharma is applied to our life.
Focusing on the reflective aspect of wisdom carries the risk of becoming overly entangled with personal dukkha. It’s important to recognize that modern Western society is far more “psychologized” than the ancient world – people think a lot about their personal story. Without an understanding of the structure of the teachings, we will tend to think along self-centered lines, rather than shifting to the onward-leading orientation of the Buddhadharma. And meditation practice will move us beyond our personal pain in fruitful ways, allowing us to genuinely pass through it.
Heading straight into meditation is a favored strategy in the West, where we are impatient to get to the main point, and the deepest point, right away. However, two pitfalls may arise: If a person has natural ability to go deep right away, they typically get stuck at some point because of personal patterns that have not been seen and identified, and they will have to go back and fill in the study and contemplation before proceeding. More seriously, powerful meditation experiences unsupported by other kinds of learning and development can be disruptive or disorienting.
Nonetheless, meditation is the key practice to develop. Handling daily-life issues becomes immensely easier when we have enough understanding not to identify with karmic material that comes up in practice. Even listening and study are deepened significantly after meditative wisdom begins to emerge. It is like the rich soil that supports all other dimensions of the ecosystem.
Often, people favor one or two of these forms of learning and wisdom. There are those who read books and attend classes for decades, with only cursory depth in meditation. There are those who love to meditate, maybe even having some degree of concentration, but don’t learn much about the structure of the teachings, and hence may be limited. Some people learn through action, continually investigating in their life. Some read and meditate a lot, but don’t really change their life.
It's all fine -- there are many ways to walk the path. But as an ecosystem, wisdom is most robust when all three types are in place, in the right measure for your life. Only you can know that. Here are some questions to consider:
Wisdom (paññā) is a highly prized quality in Buddhist teachings. It typically comes at the end of lists, as a fruition of earlier work. It is represented as a light that illuminates reality or as a knife that cuts the cords binding the mind to its repetitive, fruitless patterns. In general, paññā is practical knowledge for living peacefully, and more specifically, it entails discerning what is wholesome or skillful from what is unwholesome or unskillful, especially as this relates to suffering / stress / unsatisfactoriness (dukkha) and its end.
As befits such an encompassing quality, wisdom is not presented as a single thing; it has a number of dimensions. Classically, three types are discerned, which enhance and balance each other. Robust wisdom is an ecosystem that includes all three types, strong and harmonious.
Threefold wisdom
They are: (1) Wisdom that comes from “hearing” (sutāmayapaññā); (2) wisdom that comes from thought and reflection (cintāmayapaññā); (3) wisdom that comes from meditation (bhāvanāmayapaññā). We’ll explore these below.
One sutta that shows these three in action is MN 95, in which the key teaching is a version of how the path can unfold. First, the practitioner chooses a teacher in which to place initial trust (already a simple form of wisdom – discerning a truly wise person). From this person, they hear the Dharma, listening carefully and even memorizing the teachings. Then they reflect on what they have heard, turning it over and examining it until they gain acceptance of the teachings. Then zeal arises to practice meditation, through which the practitioner discovers what is true – “penetrating it with wisdom.”
It is important to hear the Dharma. In the Buddha’s time, hearing a teacher’s words was literally the only way to be exposed to teachings; nothing was written down and most people were illiterate anyway. Now we also have recorded talks, preserved texts, and other Dharma books. Although we sometimes meet these in a purely cognitive way, the full meaning of “hearing” (suta) goes deeper.
We are meant to listen deeply, perhaps with the whole body, letting the words penetrate, breathing with them. The experience can be enhanced by the evocative imagery often found in the Dharma. Some of the Buddha’s teachings in the suttas take on a new dimension when they are seen almost as guided meditations. We are told that the repetitive nature of the wording in the suttas functions pragmatically, as these were transmitted orally. This is true, but is it the whole truth? The gentle wash of wave after wave of clear wisdom can erode even deeply entrenched ignorance.
Meanwhile, we are also learning the structure of the Buddha’s teachings. How we organize experience matters greatly in how we respond to it. The various lists that have come down to us are not just “one way of talking about it” – they help shape our interpretation of sensory input in a specific and useful way, such that we are more likely to respond in line with the path to liberation.
When we bring a personal problem to a teacher and describe it in terms of reactive emotions and self, they are likely to point us toward more skillful ways of meeting it: As sensations, perhaps (where is the anger in your body? What does it feel like?); or as a hindrance (what are you wishing would go away? Do you recognize the aversion? Can you be with that?); or as views (what belief is underlying this anger? Is it always true?). The teacher speaks from the underlying Dharma structure, consciously or not, knowing where to draw the student’s attention in order to be onward-leading.
As noted in AN 5.202: “There are these five rewards in listening to the Dhamma. Which five?
One hears what one has not heard before. One clarifies what one has heard before. One gets rid of doubt. One's views are made straight. One's mind grows serene.”
This shades into the next form of wisdom. It is natural to contemplate Dharma teachings to which we have listened carefully. We resonate with the teaching in the moment, and then that resonance carries out to interact with our life. Cintāmayapaññā does not have to involve “figuring it out” or creating a transactional demand that the Dharma help solve a personal problem right now.
Rather, this type of contemplation is humble and respectful, a testing of our tentative understanding in the very real arena of our life. Sometimes it is as simple as trying out a new way of looking at a situation. For example, in MN 61, the Buddha instructs his son Rāhula to reflect before doing an action (by body, speech, or thought) whether or not it might bring harm to himself, another, or both. If so, he should refrain from doing it. And similarly, while he is doing an action, he should reflect on whether it is actually bringing harm, and stop if it is. And again afterward. If we are experiencing repeated suffering in a relationship or at work, might we pause to consider more precisely when and how the harm is coming about?
This simple framework actually goes very deep and can help us identify different layers of suffering and new ways to respond in line with the Dharma. It’s a bit lazy to bluntly claim that “her annoying demeanor is causing the harm.” Rather, we might discover that our body language is aggressive, or we carry a mind of ill will, or we are inwardly allowing her demeanor to destroy our equanimity and good will.
This aspect of wisdom can also include some “experiments” performed in our daily life. We might play with “mindfulness cues” around the house, such as sticky notes. These are wonderful little reminders to keep us on track – and we may also discover that they fade in effectiveness as we get accustomed to them. We have both strengthened our good qualities directly and gained some wisdom about how the mind needs freshness in its practice.
More dramatically, our contemplations may prompt us to change jobs to align with Right Livelihood or to allow us the space to do more retreats. This happened to me early in my practice. When the Buddha suggests that we try out these teachings for ourselves, he meant for us to go beyond just listening to Dharma talks!
The combination of sutāmayapaññā and cintāmayapaññā further deepen the shaping of the mind’s cognition to the structure of the Buddhadharma. This includes our way of thinking and some of our emotions. For instance, we may learn the steps of the Eightfold Path and notice that they touch all aspects of life through the development of ethical conduct, meditation, and wisdom. Then we might think about whether it makes sense that developing these areas would lead toward peace, and how our life matches up in these eight areas. We also tend to experience fewer reactive emotions through engagement with Dharma teachings because they point toward present-moment awareness, which dampens the impulsive effect of reactions.
As we calm down and get aligned, it is natural to be drawn to meditative cultivation – the third area that brings wisdom. Here is where we can really start to see how the mind works and gain some deeper discernment of what is skillful and unskillful – beyond what we could think about and perhaps even discover through daily-life exercises. In Buddhist understanding, meditation is the game-changer.
Meditation opens us to universal understandings of how the human mind-body system works, of which our personal challenges are seen to be just case studies. This can feel quite exciting – the texts speak of “zeal” arising – and it can awaken many bright Dharma qualities such as confidence, energy, samvega (healthy desire for awakening), and joy. Bhāvanāmayapaññā emerges from clear seeing of the functioning of the mind.
Eventually, there comes a penetrative wisdom that cuts through or sees through our deluded way of operating, opening to insights that can substantially change our life. We can have deep insights from the other two kinds of wisdom also, but meditation amplifies, broadens, and stabilizes them into ongoing resources.
Ecology
In a healthy ecological system, the components balance and strengthen each other. Each of the three types of wisdom contains the possibility of imbalance, but all three together avoid imbalance.
Simply hearing the Dharma can become abstract, such that the teachings cannot penetrate the heart. In some cases, people use an intellectual engagement to avoid difficult material – it’s easier to read another Dharma book than face our inner pain directly. The other two kinds of wisdom ensure that the Dharma is applied to our life.
Focusing on the reflective aspect of wisdom carries the risk of becoming overly entangled with personal dukkha. It’s important to recognize that modern Western society is far more “psychologized” than the ancient world – people think a lot about their personal story. Without an understanding of the structure of the teachings, we will tend to think along self-centered lines, rather than shifting to the onward-leading orientation of the Buddhadharma. And meditation practice will move us beyond our personal pain in fruitful ways, allowing us to genuinely pass through it.
Heading straight into meditation is a favored strategy in the West, where we are impatient to get to the main point, and the deepest point, right away. However, two pitfalls may arise: If a person has natural ability to go deep right away, they typically get stuck at some point because of personal patterns that have not been seen and identified, and they will have to go back and fill in the study and contemplation before proceeding. More seriously, powerful meditation experiences unsupported by other kinds of learning and development can be disruptive or disorienting.
Nonetheless, meditation is the key practice to develop. Handling daily-life issues becomes immensely easier when we have enough understanding not to identify with karmic material that comes up in practice. Even listening and study are deepened significantly after meditative wisdom begins to emerge. It is like the rich soil that supports all other dimensions of the ecosystem.
Often, people favor one or two of these forms of learning and wisdom. There are those who read books and attend classes for decades, with only cursory depth in meditation. There are those who love to meditate, maybe even having some degree of concentration, but don’t learn much about the structure of the teachings, and hence may be limited. Some people learn through action, continually investigating in their life. Some read and meditate a lot, but don’t really change their life.
It's all fine -- there are many ways to walk the path. But as an ecosystem, wisdom is most robust when all three types are in place, in the right measure for your life. Only you can know that. Here are some questions to consider:
- Which of the three types of wisdom feels juiciest to you right now?
- Which have you not emphasized as much? Are there ways you could develop that one?
- Given the critical importance of bhāvanāmayapaññā, could you boost that in some way specifically?
