“I shall show you, O monks, a profound way of presenting the Dharma, by which you may come to understand one hundred and eight distinct feelings. These feelings encompass the vast spectrum of human experience. They are like ripples in a still pond, each one arising, spreading, and fading away, shaped by our interactions with the world and our inner thoughts. To comprehend them is to see the nature of existence itself. Therefore, listen attentively, for this teaching is both a key to understanding suffering and a guide to liberation.
“In one way, O monks, I have spoken of two kinds of feelings. In other ways, I have described them as three, five, six, eighteen, thirty-six, and ultimately one hundred and eight. These numbers are not arbitrary; they represent the many ways in which feelings arise and interweave, forming the fabric of human consciousness.
“Let us begin with the most basic distinction: What are the two feelings? They are bodily and mental feelings. Bodily feelings arise from direct physical contact. Imagine, monks, the warmth of the sun on your skin after a cold night—it is a bodily feeling of comfort. Similarly, the sharp sting of a thorn piercing your foot is a bodily feeling of pain. These are the sensations tied to the body, immediate and tangible.
“Mental feelings, on the other hand, are born of the mind. Consider the joy that arises when you recall a kind word spoken by a friend or the sorrow that surfaces when you remember a loved one who has passed away. These mental feelings, though intangible, are powerful. They shape our perceptions and responses, often influencing us more deeply than physical sensations.
“Next, let us consider the three feelings. They are pleasant, painful, and neither-painful-nor-pleasant. Pleasant feelings bring joy and satisfaction. Picture the delight of a fresh breeze on a warm day or the happiness of hearing a melody that stirs your heart. Painful feelings, in contrast, bring discomfort and suffering—like the ache of hunger or the sting of harsh words. The third category, neither-painful-nor-pleasant, refers to neutral feelings. These often go unnoticed, like the sensation of the air against your skin or the subtle pressure of your feet on the ground as you stand. Yet, they are ever-present, forming the backdrop of our experience.
“Now, monks, let us expand this understanding to the five feelings. These correspond to the faculties of pleasure, pain, gladness, sadness, and equanimity. Pleasure and pain are physical, tied to the sensations of the body. Gladness and sadness, however, are rooted in the mind—reflecting our emotional responses. Equanimity, the fifth feeling, stands apart. It is a state of balance, where neither joy nor sorrow sways the mind. Consider the calm of a monk sitting in meditation, undisturbed by the world around him—this is equanimity, a feeling cultivated through practice and mindfulness.
“Next, I shall explain the six feelings. These arise from the six sense bases: the eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, and mind. Through the eye, we perceive forms, such as the sight of a sunrise. Through the ear, we perceive sounds, like the rustling of leaves in the wind. The nose perceives smells, like the scent of blooming jasmine; the tongue perceives tastes, such as the sweetness of ripe fruit. The body perceives sensations, such as warmth or pressure. Lastly, the mind perceives thoughts and emotions. Each sense base gives rise to feelings, shaping our experience moment by moment.
“Let us now delve deeper into the eighteen feelings. These arise when the six sense bases interact with objects, producing feelings of gladness, sadness, or equanimity. For example, seeing a loved one may bring gladness, while hearing harsh words may bring sadness. Touching cool water on a hot day might bring equanimity—a neutral sense of relief without strong emotion. Each of these feelings, whether pleasant or painful, arises from the interplay between the senses and the world.
“We then move to the thirty-six feelings. These are further divided into feelings associated with the household life and those associated with renunciation. For example, monks, consider the gladness that arises when a layperson enjoys a festive meal—that is a feeling of gladness tied to the household life. Contrast this with the gladness of a monk who feels peace in solitude—this is a feeling tied to renunciation. Similarly, sadness may arise from worldly attachments or from the challenge of renouncing desires. Equanimity, too, can manifest in both realms, as one learns to navigate both worldly and spiritual lives.
“Finally, monks, let us understand the one hundred and eight feelings. These are the thirty-six feelings multiplied by time—past, present, and future. Feelings of the past arise when we recall memories, such as the joy of a past celebration or the sorrow of a past loss. Feelings of the future arise when we anticipate what is to come, whether with hope or fear. Feelings of the present are those we experience in the here and now, the fleeting sensations that form the texture of the present moment.
“These, O monks, are the one hundred and eight feelings. They are like waves upon the ocean of consciousness, rising and falling, each one unique yet interconnected. To see them clearly is to understand the impermanence of all things. To not cling to pleasant feelings nor resist painful ones, but to observe them with equanimity, is to walk the path of liberation. And this, O monks, is the way of the Dharma presentation by which the one hundred and eight feelings are understood.”
The Buddha paused, his gaze steady upon his disciples. “Reflect on these teachings, and in doing so, you will come to see the truth of feelings—not as a source of bondage, but as a doorway to freedom.”
Link: https://wisdomtea.org/2024/12/27/one-hundred-eight-feelings/
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