The Four Pillars of Liberation
When a monk is endowed with four radiant qualities, his path is firm, his direction clear, and his heart steady in the face of all temptations and distractions. Such a monk becomes incapable of falling away from the noble path. He stands not far from the final goal—Unbinding, the full release from suffering, the cessation of becoming. These four qualities are the cornerstones of his training, the guardians of his peace, and the lights by which he walks the ancient way.
The first is the perfection of virtue. A monk who is consummate in virtue is like a clear lake—untainted, undisturbed, and able to reflect the moon of wisdom perfectly. He does not simply follow precepts; he lives them. His virtue is not performed for praise or out of fear, but arises naturally from a deep reverence for truth and compassion for all beings. He avoids harming, speaks truthfully, lives simply, and cultivates restraint in all his bodily and verbal acts. With every precept observed, he strengthens the foundation of his inner stillness. He knows that even a small crack in moral discipline is like a hole in a water jar—left unattended, it will empty. And so, he carefully attends to the precepts, even in subtle matters, out of love for the path and trust in its fruits. His conduct inspires confidence. His presence brings peace.
The second is restraint of the sense faculties. Just as a skilled charioteer holds the reins of a spirited horse, the wise monk holds his attention at the gates of the senses. When he sees forms with the eye, hears sounds with the ear, smells scents with the nose, tastes flavors with the tongue, feels tactile sensations with the body, or perceives mental phenomena with the mind, he remains anchored in mindfulness. He does not allow the senses to roam freely, chasing after the pleasant or recoiling from the unpleasant. He sees the arising of feeling, recognizes the tendency to grasp or resist, and lets go. He is aware that the senses are not to be suppressed, but to be understood and guided. Like a fortress with well-guarded gates, he admits only what is useful and refuses entry to what disturbs the peace of the heart. He does not take delight in appearances, nor fear their passing. Through such wise restraint, the flames of desire, aversion, and delusion are gradually cooled.
The third quality is moderation in nourishment. A monk who understands food reflects wisely before each meal. He does not eat out of greed, not for indulgence, entertainment, or vanity. He does not use food to escape from unpleasant feeling or to cling to pleasant sensation. Instead, he regards food as medicine for the body, a condition for sustaining life, a support for the holy life. He thinks, “I will consume this not for pleasure, but to support this body, to maintain energy for practice, to prevent collapse, and to live a life free from blame. I take this food to end old hunger and to avoid creating new suffering through overindulgence.” In this way, eating becomes an act of mindfulness, not of craving. He eats with gratitude, aware of the labor behind the food and the generosity of donors. Such a monk maintains balance—he is neither emaciated from neglect nor dulled by excess. He walks the middle path between indulgence and deprivation, steady in energy, clear in mind.
The fourth quality is devotion to wakefulness. A monk who is dedicated to wakefulness values each moment of the day and night as an opportunity for practice. He does not let time pass idly, nor is he caught in distraction or sloth. During the daylight hours, he alternates between sitting in meditation and walking mindfully, purifying his heart, watching the flow of thought, sensation, and feeling. In the first watch of the night, he continues this effort, calming the restless waves of the mind, deepening his inner stillness. In the middle watch, he lies down mindfully on his right side in the lion’s posture, resting not in forgetfulness but in full awareness, intending to rise with alertness and purpose. And when the final watch of the night arrives, he awakens and returns to his seat or walking path, continuing his effort with diligence. For him, sleep is not indulgence but restoration; wakefulness is not exhaustion but joy. Such a monk shines in the darkness like a lamp, never letting the flame of effort go out. His dedication to wakefulness is a protection against complacency and a friend to insight.
Thus, when a monk is well established in virtue, guards his senses with wisdom, nourishes his body with moderation, and devotes himself to wakefulness, he is like a well-constructed ship on the ocean of samsara—able to withstand winds and storms, moving steadily toward the far shore. He does not waver. He does not regress. He stands close to the final freedom, the cooling of the fires, the unbinding from all becoming.
Verses of the Noble Path
The monk who walks in virtue’s light,
whose senses are restrained,
whose hunger is tamed by wisdom’s eye,
and whose nights are free from heedless sleep—
such a one walks the path of peace,
shining quietly, steadfast and strong.
He guards the gates through which distraction creeps,
he watches hunger’s whisper without bowing to it,
he sits in stillness when others slumber,
and in his heart, the roots of craving loosen.
The world pulls, but he does not sway.
Pleasure calls, but he does not answer.
Fear rises, but he meets it with calm.
He sees birth and death as passing waves
and sails beyond them toward the deathless.
He delights in vigilance,
finds joy in discipline,
sees danger in negligence,
and remains unmoved by praise or blame.
Such a monk, dwelling with resolve,
is incapable of falling away.
He is not far from the unconditioned.
He walks hand in hand with liberation.
Link: https://wisdomtea.org/2025/06/12/the-four-pillars-of-liberation/










