Greatest blessings - Part 2

In the Maṅgala Sutta, the Buddha presents a profound and practical guide to the true causes of well-being and genuine blessing.

In Part 1 of this series, we examined the introduction to the Sutta and explained the first sixteen blessings. If you reflect them, you can find that these qualities are relatively accessible: they are practices that a diligent person, and anyone aspiring to grow in wisdom, can begin to cultivate in everyday life.

In this second part, we turn to the remaining blessings. As the list unfolds, it becomes clear that these become more demanding in nature. Even though they are more challenging, the results are truly worthwhile, and that is why that the Buddha spoke of them as blessings. What is easy to obtain in this world rarely leads to what is truly valuable. With this in mind, we now begin with …

17. Blameless actions

Some authors treat the expressions “work that is unconflicting” (which is the 13th blessing) and “blameless actions” as if they were identical. At a glance they appear similar, but their emphasis is quite different. “Work that is unconflicting” highlights the kind of activity with which one engages — occupations and duties that do not bring harm to oneself or others. “Blameless actions”, however, places the weight on the kamma or intention being cultivated, and especially on the intention behind it: actions done with a mind free from harm, deceit, exploitation, negligence and defilements.

The commentary confirms this focus by listing examples that fall under this blessing: undertaking the eight precepts on Uposatha days, performing various forms of community service, planting trees, infrastructure or amenities for public use, building bridges and walkways for the benefit of all, volunteering etc. The kind of deeds that are rooted in wholesome intention that yields no remorse, no stain, and no future obstacle.

Blameless actions, then, are those bodily, verbal, and mental deeds that are wholesome through and through — pure in motivation, beneficial in effect, and free from defilements.

18, 19: Avoiding and abstaining from evil

These blessings refer to avoiding the ten unwholesome courses of action and to cultivating a mind that does not take delight in unwholesome deeds (which means abstinence). They are closely connected and support one another. When one understands the dangers of unwholesome actions, dispassion can arise in the mind, making avoidance easier. In turn, consistently avoiding such actions with proper understanding further strengthens this inner non-delight, and together, they form a reciprocal process.

Abstinence means refraining from bodily and verbal misconduct, and this restraint is explained as threefold: abstinence due to circumstances, abstinence due to undertaking, and abstinence due to cutting off.

(i) Abstinence due to circumstances arises from habit, convention, or a person’s particular way of thinking. For example, an high-level executive of a company may refrain from taking another person’s or company's contract because he believes it would disgrace himself, his reputation, and his company. This type of restraint, however, is unstable; when conditions shift, the abstinence may fade as well.

(ii) Abstinence through undertaking refers to the restraint that occurs when one formally takes up the five, eight, or ten precept. From the moment they are undertaken, one avoids killing and the other unwholesome actions by recalling the commitment made: “I shall not break this precept.”

(iii) Abstinence due to cutting off is the restraint associated with the Noble Path. When the Path moment arises and the change of lineage to an Ariya (Noble one) occurs, the Noble disciple naturally and effortlessly refrains from all evil. At that moment, the power of unwholesome intention is completely eliminated; the impulses that could lead to breaking precepts no longer arise in their continuum anymore. This has been affirmed in multiple suttas and commentaries. Because of this, one should be cautious of teachers and teachings that claim a Noble disciple can still break precept. Such claims contradict the Dhamma and are not in accordance with the words of the Buddha.

What, then, is the “evil” (pāpa) referred to here? It denotes those behaviours classed as wrong speech, wrong bodily action, or wrong livelihood. They fall under the heading of “wrong” because they inevitably bring harm to oneself and to others, draw criticism from others, and for the one who engages in them they give rise to obstacles, burdens, and suffering both now and in the future.

These are as follows:

• Wrong speech consists of four types: false speech, malicious speech, harsh speech, and idle chatter.

• Wrong bodily action refers to killing living beings, taking what is not given, and misconduct with regard to sexual desire.

• Wrong livelihood is any occupation that harms others. Examples include trading in weapons, human trafficking, dealing in intoxicants, and professions involving killing, cheating, etc.

So, when one refrains from evil actions, one is protected both now and in the future, and this restraint itself becomes a genuine blessing.

20. Refraining from intoxicating drinks (and substances)

Although everyone already understands that intoxicating drinks refer to alcohol and similar substances, it is important to recognise that the same principle applies to many substances used today very widely and even legally accepted in some countries. This includes widely accepted drugs such as marijuana, ayahuasca, mushrooms, and other recreational intoxicants. All of these fall under the category of intoxicants because they impair clarity and disrupt mindfulness.

Some may argue that drinking a single glass of wine causes no harm, especially if the person does not become drunk. However, according to the fifth precept, the issue is not limited to visible drunkenness. The very act of consuming intoxicants is considered bodily misconduct and constitutes a breach of the precept. Whether or not one feels intoxicated, the mind is affected to a certain degree, and clarity is diminished. This is why the Buddha explicitly prohibited intoxicants: he understood their impact far more deeply than the person consuming them.

The kammic consequence of such a transgression is described as leading to mental confusion and dullness, a weakened capacity for discernment, or even an entire existence characterised by a lack of wisdom and the inability to comprehend simple things. The purpose of the precept is thus to safeguard the mind to ensure it remains sharp, stable, and capable of insight. Therefore, refraining from intoxicants is truly a blessing.

21. Heedfulness and diligence regarding wholesome qualities

In Pāḷi, this blessing is expressed as “appamādo ca dhammesu”. The term “appamāda” is deeply profound: it does not merely mean heedfulness, but brings together the qualities of mindfulness, non-negligence, wisdom, effort, and diligence altogether. Here in section, the Buddha admonished us to be unwaveringly heedful in cultivating wholesome qualities within ourselves diligently at all times. Its opposite is, of course, "pamāda": negligence.

The Vibhaṅga defines negligence as the failure to apply oneself properly to the cultivation of wholesome qualities —

• lack of persistence,

• lack of steadiness,

• slackness,

• abandoning the desire to do what is wholesome,

• abandoning effort,

• non-engagement,

• non-development,

• non-repetition

  (one reason why I want students to repeat samatha and vipassana objects repeatedly is to avoid this unwholesome quality!)

• lack of resolve, and

• failure to pursue wholesome states.

So, its opposite, heedfulness, is the steady and unforgetful presence of mindfulness directed towards the wholesome qualities that stand in contrast to the negligence mentioned above. It is called a blessing because it nurtures the growth of all wholesome development and ultimately supports the realisation of Nibbāna.

One may remember here the Buddha’s final words before his Parinibbāna: “All formations are subject to perishing. Strive on with diligence.” (Vayadhammā saṅkhārā, appamādena sampādetha).

22. Right reverence

Reverence or respect (gārava) refers to the proper attitude of honour shown towards those worthy of esteem: the Buddha, the Dhamma, and the Saṅgha; one’s teachers and preceptors; parents; elder siblings; and all those who live rightly and deserve regard.

Even the Buddha, immediately after his attainment of Buddhahood, surveyed the world to see whether there existed a teacher whom he might venerate. Finding none whose attainment surpassed his own, he declared that he would live revering the very Dhamma through which Enlightenment had been realised. In the same way, the Arahants maintained deep reverence for the Buddha as their guide, for the Dhamma, for the senior monastics, and for the discipline that shaped their training.

The further one advances along the path, the stronger this sense of reverence becomes. It does not diminish with progress because the wisdom allows for pride and conceit to fall away. This is itself a measure of one’s development: where much conceit is still evident, one has not yet gone far.

And as it is said by the Buddha: “Bhikkhus, there are seven qualities that prevent decline. What seven? Respect for the Teacher…” and so forth." As such, right reverence is called a blessing.

23. Humility

One who shows genuine respect and reverence to those worthy of honour already has humility, for such reverence can arise only from a humble heart. By contrast, a person who always answers "I know", who clings tightly to their own interpretations, or who is quick to judge and dismiss the views of others, closes the door to their own progress. Without humility, real learning cannot happen. It becomes impossible to benefit from a good teacher, because humility is the ground in which understanding and transformation are able to grow.

The Buddha indeed spoke about the difficulty of instructing a conceited person. In several places he explained that one who is full of pride is “hard to admonish,” resistant to guidance, and unlikely to recognise the Dhamma even when it is clearly presented (look at the life story of Devadatta). Conceit blinds a person to their own limitations, prevents the arising of wholesome shame and fear of wrongdoing, and blocks the capacity to listen deeply. Because of this, the Buddha stated that such a person may fail to realise the Dhamma in this very life, not through lack of opportunity but through unwillingness to receive instruction.

The Mūlapariyāya Sutta (MN 1) is one of the hardest and most challenging discourses to read and understand in the Pāḷi Canon. The Buddha taught it in such a complex manner precisely to subdue the pride and conceit of bhikkhus who, though endowed with strong pāramī for the attainment of Arahantship, had not yet cultivated the humility needed to recognise their own shortcomings, to let go of wrong views and their need for further understanding and practice. In the later suttas, only when their pride was softened and genuine humility arose — when they acknowledged that their knowledge and wisdom were not yet complete — were they able to grasp the teaching correctly, understand what had to be realised, and finally attain Arahantship. Humility, therefore, is a decisive condition for seeing the Dhamma as it truly is. The commentary also gave vivid examples to show the right attitude: one should be as low and unassuming as a foot-wiping cloth, as harmless as a bull with its horns cut off, or as harmless as a snake with its fangs removed.

Humility is also not something expressed just only on the surface; it must be cultivated sincerely from within. In practice, this means having the courage to say to oneself, “I don’t know,” or “I have not realised this yet.” When we stop pretending to know more than we do, and honestly acknowledge our limits and shortcomings, the mind becomes open, and the conditions for real growth begin to appear.

This is very different from putting on a show of being “humble” or slipping into an inferiority complex—both of which are simply forms of pride (māna) wearing different masks. Pretending to be small can be just as rooted in ego as pretending to be great. Genuine humility, however, has a completely different flavour. It gently and softly reshapes one’s behaviour, attitude, and way of thinking from the inside out because it is rooted in wisdom. A truly wise and humble person does not promote themselves, nor do they seek attention through loud actions, dramatic speech, or exaggerated mannerisms. Their humility expresses itself naturally through their bodily, verbal, and mental conduct. Because they are no longer driven by the need to impress others or defend a false sense of self, their presence is simple but strong, quiet but unmistakable, and visibly trustworthy.

Because humility is a cause for the attainment of wholesome qualities, the Buddha regarded it as a blessing. As it is said: “The one who is humble in conduct and not stiff with pride gains honour.”

24. Contentment

Contentment (santuṭṭhi) means being at ease with whatever we have right now and support we receive. Traditionally, it is explained through the four requisites: clothing, food, shelter, and medicine. For monastics, this is a required quality, and the commentary speaks of it only in relation to bhikkhus. However, it is equally valuable for anyone living in a world where there is abundance on one side and constant craving on the other.

To be content is to know: “This is enough.” Enough clothing to keep one covered, enough food to stay healthy, enough living space to live safely, enough medicine to recover when ill. What is “enough” is whatever brings little trouble to obtain, keep, and maintain. Whatever goes beyond that often brings more anxiety than comfort due to the mental nature of clinging.

Contentment does not mean abandoning effort. Monastics can live happily with few possessions, but laypeople require more to support a household, a family, and a livelihood. So, they must make reasonable effort to secure what is necessary for a stable and happy life without poverty or starvation. Yet even for laypeople, the key question still remains: “Will having more increase my happiness, or increase my burdens?” The ability to see this clearly is a form of wisdom.

Many people believe that greed is necessary for success and contentment leads to failure or complacency. This is a mistaken view that runs contrary to the Buddha’s teaching. The Buddha showed the path that leads out of saṃsāra through the ending of craving, and for those not yet ready for that goal, he taught how to live in harmony, safety, and peace. So, according to the Buddha, for those who cannot escape saṃsāra yet, he mentioned that success in worldly matters depends on three qualities: kamma, wisdom (paññā), and effort (vīriya). For laypeople who support a family or build a livelihood, genuine success arises when three factors work together. Greed on its own never guarantees achievement; in fact, it often drives people towards unwholesome actions and inner turmoil, for unwholesome roots cannot produce desirable results. Those who work hard with greed as their motivation do not prosper because of that greed, but because, despite it, favourable kamma, wisdom, and right effort happen to converge.

Contentment plays an essential role within the three conditions the Buddha taught for success. Contentment supports the arising and ripening of kamma because a contented person is less likely to act out of greed, rivalry, or desperation. Their conduct becomes cleaner, calmer, and more considerate, which then naturally leads to better and steady outcomes in both family life and work. Contentment strengthens wisdom (paññā) by helping one see clearly what is truly necessary, what is wasteful, what is craving, and what is merely desire. Without contentment, the mind is clouded by comparison and craving; with it, one can discern which actions lead to well-being and which lead to trouble. Contentment enables right and great effort (vīriya) by preventing it from turning into restless striving, unhealthy burnout or harmful ambition. With contentment, one works diligently for what is needed and knowing when to do it.

Thus, contentment ensures that one's actions does not lead to undesirable results and that ambition does not turn into craving. This allows a person to work hard while remaining calm, grounded, and unburdened.

25. Gratitude

Kataññuta (gratitude) literally means to repeatedly acknowledge, without forgetting, even the smallest acts of help or kindness received from someone, or in short, "knowing what has been done for one".

The Buddha said: “Two kinds of people are rare in this world: the one who first does an act of kindness, and the one who is grateful and recognises that kindness.” The first is the person who steps forward to help without waiting for anyone else to make the first move. The second is the one who genuinely appreciates the support they receive — big or small — and shows that gratitude through their words and actions. Such qualities are called blessings because they create harmony, strengthen good character, and bring a sense of safety and trust into our relationships and communities.

Without gratitude, a person easily forgets the support received from parents, relatives, friends, teachers, and those who have guided them in the Dhamma. The Buddha also said, “And what is the character of a person of no integrity? A person of no integrity is ungrateful and unthankful. This ingratitude, this lack of thankfulness, is praised by the rude. It belongs entirely to those without integrity.” This inability to show gratitude or appreciation often comes from a strong sense of māna (pride). A person may feel elevated by their position, status, or achievements and think, “I am important,” or “I stand above them,” or even, “I’ve already done enough for them; I owe nothing in return.” Such thoughts blind the mind to understand and acknowledge the support and kindness that one has received.

Gratitude is also needed to remove the mistaken idea that one need not thank others for their kindness simply because one has also helped them in the past. Some people think, “I have already done good for them before, so there is no need to be grateful when they help me now.” This attitude blocks humility and blinds the mind to the interdependence that sustains all relationships. Gratitude reminds us that every act of kindness—even if mutual—deserves recognition. It softens the heart, reduces pride, and even when help flows both ways, each gesture is still a fresh occasion for appreciation, not something to be weighed against past deeds. We should not keep count of each other’s deeds, tallying who has done more or less. Such bookkeeping turns kindness into a transaction. Cultivating gratitude helps ease this habit by reminding us that every act of help — big or small, returned or not — deserves genuine appreciation. We should cultivate the mindset to stop comparing and keeping score, so that goodwill can deepen, pride can diminish, and relationships can become grounded in sincerity rather than scorekeeping.

If we pause and reflect honestly, we can see that countless good things in our lives have arisen through the kindness, effort, or sacrifice of others. Much of what we enjoy — our education, opportunities, safety, daily comforts, even the Dhamma itself — has reached us because someone else (or many people) gave, supported, or made space for us. Yet when we look closely, how many of these moments have we truly recognised with genuine gratitude? And how often have we taken such support for granted, assuming it was simply “normal” or “owed” to us?

26. Timely hearing of the Dhamma

Listening to the Dhamma at the proper time means turning to it precisely when the mind is unsettled or unwholesome states are present. When restlessness arises, or when the mind is overwhelmed by sensual desire, ill will, or other hindrances, listening to the Dhamma at that moment helps to calm and clear the mind. In this way, the Dhamma functions as a direct remedy that dispels wholesome states rather than allowing them to grow stronger.

Likewise, whenever one seeks out wise friends and listens to Dhamma that clarifies understanding and removes doubt or misunderstandings, this too is listening to the Dhamma at the proper time. It is not defined by a fixed schedule, but by recognising when the mind is in need of guidance and support.

As the Buddha said: “When, bhikkhus, a noble disciple listens to the Dhamma with an attentive ear, fully engaging his mind, at that time the five hindrances do not exist within him.” (Saṃyutta Nikāya 5.219)

27. Patience

    
    

Khantī does not mean patience in a narrow or passive sense. It is a noble quality that includes forbearance, endurance, and deep acceptance. The commentary explains that a bhikkhu who possesses khantī remains unshaken even when subjected to the ten kinds of verbal abuse, or when harassed through beating, binding, and similar mistreatment. He behaves as though he neither hears nor sees such abuse, remaining inwardly steady and unmoved.

The Khantivādī Jātaka, taught by the Buddha, illustrates this perfection of patience in a powerful way. In this story, the Bodhisatta was born as a Brahmin named Kuṇḍaka Kumāra. After the death of his parents, he renounced his vast wealth, gave it all away, and became an ascetic. Eventually, he lived in the royal park of King Kalābu of Kāsi and was supported by the commander-in-chief. One day, the king, intoxicated and overcome by anger, saw the women of his harem listening attentively to the Bodhisatta’s teaching. Enraged, he accused the ascetic of misleading them. When asked what he taught, the Bodhisatta replied that he taught patience: not becoming angry when insulted, struck, or abused. To test this claim, the king ordered brutal punishments—first severe lashings, then the cutting off of the Bodhisatta’s hands, feet, nose, and ears. Throughout this cruelty, the Bodhisatta calmly affirmed that his patience was not superficial, but firmly rooted within.

Finally, the king struck him on the chest and left. The commander-in-chief then attended to the grievously wounded ascetic and spoke of directing anger towards wrongful actions rather than persons. In response, the Bodhisatta expressed only compassion, wishing the king long life despite what had been done to him. Shortly after leaving, King Kalābu met the immediate result of his kamma: the earth opened and he fell into the Great Hell, Avīci. The Bodhisatta later died from his injuries, having maintained patience until the very end. This story shows the depth of forbearance and endurance required to fulfil the perfection of khantī.

Such a level of patience is among the highest of the pāramī that Bodhisattas cultivate over countless lifetimes for the attainment of Buddhahood. Of course, we are not required to endure such extreme suffering, nor to fulfil the pāramī to that degree. Yet when we encounter difficulties in our own lives—physical discomfort, hunger and thirst, illness, harsh words, injustice, loss of fortunes, or attacks on our reputation, ego, or pride—we can reflect on the hardships the Bodhisatta endured to perfect this quality. Seen in that light, our misfortunes are small by comparison. If the Bodhisatta could maintain patience under such unimaginable suffering, then surely we, too, can learn to endure our difficulties with steadiness and understanding. We may not always succeed, but this reflection reminds us that patience is possible—and that it can be cultivated, step by step.

More important than external circumstances is learning to be patient with ourselves. This kind of patience does not imply complacency, self-indulgence, or lowering our standards. Rather, it is a strength of mind born from acceptance and wisdom. When we are patient with ourselves, we acknowledge our present condition honestly—our limitations, habits, and struggles—without frustration or self-condemnation. From this clear and gentle understanding, we can develop the wisdom to do what is needed to be done and refrain from actions that lead to more suffering to ourselves.

The sutta concerning the Venerable Puṇṇa is also a powerful illustration of patience and unshakeable goodwill in the face of harm. When Puṇṇa wished to go to Sunāparanta to live and practise, the Buddha warned him that the people there were known to be harsh, violent, and abusive. The Buddha asked him directly how he would respond if they were to insult and abuse him. Puṇṇa replied that he would reflect: “These people of Sunāparanta are truly kind and good, since they do not strike me with their hands.” The Buddha then pressed further, asking what he would do if they did strike him. Puṇṇa answered that he would consider them kind for not striking him with sticks. If they struck him with sticks, he would be grateful they did not strike him with knives. If they attacked him with knives, he would reflect that they were kind for not killing him. And even if they were to kill him, he would think that they had freed him from a body that is impermanent and burdened with suffering.

At each stage, the Buddha acknowledged Puṇṇa’s responses and affirmed that one who possesses such patience, restraint, and freedom from ill will is truly capable of living among difficult people. The Buddha praised Puṇṇa’s attitude and recognised that he was endowed with the patience and inner strength required to dwell safely in such a hostile place. This sutta highlights khantī not as passive endurance (this is a state of mind rooted in unwholesomeness). Puṇṇa does not deny the harm done to him, nor does he excuse wrongdoing. Instead, he refuses to let anger, resentment, or blame take over his mind.

True patience is the ability to remain unshaken even in extreme circumstances. It is the strength to endure without hatred, to respond without retaliation, and to keep the mind wholesome regardless of how others behave. While most of us will never face such conditions, multiple examples of patience cultivated by the Bodhisattas and Noble disciples show that patience is a great power of the mind: a mental strength.

A mind without patience is weak and weak mind causes more conflict to oneself and others. A lack of patience causes the mind to become unstable and easily disturbed. The mind reacts strongly to discomfort, criticism, delay, or difficulty. It swings between liking and disliking, hope and irritation, praise and blame. This constant reacting weakens the mind, making it restless, scattered, and vulnerable to unwholesome states such as anger, resentment, frustration, and despair. Without patience, even small inconveniences feel unbearable. A harsh word, a misunderstanding, or a minor obstacle can trigger agitation and mental turmoil. The mind loses its balance and clarity because it is always pushing against experience, wanting things to be different from how they are. Over time, this habit of resistance drains mental strength and makes sustained practice difficult.

Patience, by contrast, stabilises the mind. When the mind does not fluctuate as much; it becomes steadier, more resilient, and less easily shaken by external conditions. This inner steadiness is essential for concentration, insight, and wise response.

"Patience is the highest austerity, the supreme [quality]". (Dhammapada, 184)

_____

So far in this post, we’ve explored the following blessings:

• Blameless actions

• Avoiding evil

• Refraining from intoxicants

• Diligence in wholesome Dhamma practices

• Right reverence

• Humility

• Contentment

• Gratitude

• Timely listening to the Dhamma

• Patience

In the next post, we'll explore the last 11 blessings out of 38. A the list unfolds, it becomes clear that the blessings the Buddha pointed to are not always easy to practise. Each one asks a little more of us than the last—more awareness, more restraint, more honesty with ourselves. However, these are precisely the conditions that lead to genuine welfare, both here and now and in the future.

None of these qualities are out of reach, nor are they reserved for monks or advanced practitioners. They are practical ways of living that gradually shape us into what the Buddha called a sappurisa—a good and upright person.