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The Hon. Sirimavo Dias Bandaranaike

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Seated L to R – Hon. F. R. Dias Bandaranaike (Minister of Finance), Hon. T. B. Ilangaratne (Minister of Commerce, Trade, Food and Shipping), Seated L to R - Hon. F. R. Dias Bandaranaike (Minister of Hon, A. P. Jayasuriya (Minister of Health), Hon. Sirimavo Dias Bandaranaike (Prime Minister), Hon. C. P. de Silva (Minister of Agriculture, Land, Irrigation and Power), Hon. Maithripala Senanayake (Minister of industries, Home and Cultural Affairs) and Hon. C. Wijesinghe (Minister ofLabour and Nationalised Services.) Standing L to R - Mr D. W. de Alwis (Assistant Secretary), Hon. Al-Haj Badiuddin Mahamud (Minister ofEducation and Broadcasting), Hon. S. P. C. Fernando (Minister of Justice), Hon. Mahanama Samaraweera (Minister of Local Government andHousing), Hon. P. B. G. Kalugalla (Minister of Transport and Works) and Mr. B. P. Peiris (Secretary)

(Excerpted from Memoirs of a Cabinet Secretary by BP Peiris)

The country went to the polls again; and much was made at the hustings of the assassination of the late Premier and the ideals he stood for. His widow Sirimavo Dias Bandaranaike who had never been a politician, addressed election meetings and, according to the newspapers, shed tears in public. The election was fought more on emotion and sympathy for the late Prime Minister than on political issues.

As usual, election promises which could never be kept were made and her party was returned with an overwhelming majority. Unknown names were in the news as utter strangers to the public at large became elected members of Parliament. They came in as a People’s Government’ and the Government Members of Parliament donned the people’s dress, the national dress, with a blue scarf to indicate the party colour.

The Governor-General, Sir Oliver Goonetilleke, was in a quandary as to whom to send for to form a government. A few old hands had been elected like C. P. de Silva, Ilangaratne, A. P. Jayasuriya and Maithripala Senanayake, but if any one of these had been appointed Prime Minister, the Party would have disintegrated through internal jealousies. There was a newcomer, Felix Dias Bandaranaike, a kinsman of the late Premier. There was J. P. Obeysekera, another kinsman. But none of these could hold the team.

The only person who could lead was Sirimavo, but she had not contested a seat at the election and was therefore not a Member of Parliament. Precedents were sought. The opinions of learned professors of Constitutional Law were obtained. All were of the view that it would be unconstitutional to appoint Sirimavo as Prime Minister, except one, a Professor of Law at the University of London. Our Constitution requires the Governor-General to act in the same way as the Queen would act in the United Kingdom, and no Prime Minister from the House of Lords had been appointed for many years.

The last one was Lord Salisbury in 1895. The Earl of Home renounced his Earldom to contest a parliamentary by-election. Sir Oliver acted on the opinion of the Professor who was in favour of Mrs Bandaranaike. In this opinion, the Professor stated, after quoting a precedent from Southern Rhodesia, that “it would be constitutionally proper for the Governor-General to invite Mrs Bandaranaike to take office as Prime Minister.

“However, the Governor-General would have to take into consideration the fact that Mrs Bandaranaike had not apparently found it practicable to stand as a candidate for election and the possibility that she might not be able to find a suitable constituency even after her appointment or that she might be defeated at a by-election if she did stand as a candidate. It would clearly be improper for her as Prime Minister to advise the Governor-General to appoint her as a nominated member of either House”.

Mrs Bandaranaike became Prime Minister with a seat in the Senate. In the matter of this appointment, did or did not the Governor-General act on advice? If he did, then, the advice could only be given by the Prime Minister, and that would have been unconstitutional. If he did not, he openly flouted our Constitution. In any case, it is an extremely nice point for our legal pundits.

The Prime Minister’s chair in the House of Representatives was unoccupied and remained vacant. She became the first woman Prime Minister in the world. Because of this most unusual situation of the Prime Minister not being in the House of Representatives, Felix Dias and J. P. Obeysekera stated in public that they would resign their seats to enable the Prime Minister to contest a seat and win a by-election. There is no doubt that, had she contested a seat, she would have won on the wave of sympathy then prevailing in the people’s mind for her late husband. But neither resigned; she did not contest a seat and continued to be Prime Minister with her seat in the Senate.

A Cabinet of eleven was formed. Apart from the old stagers, there was Felix Dias who was given the key posts of Finance and Parliamentary Secretary to the Prime Minister, Sam P. C. Fernando, a colleague of mine at the Bar (Justice), Badiuddin Mahamud (Education), Mahanama Samaraweera (Local Government) and Sarath Wijesinghe, a classmate of mine at the Royal College (Labour and Nationalised Services). Serious problems awaited the attention of the Government. There were a few able men in the Cabinet; but their main handicap was a lack of experience.

The Prime Minister herself was at a great disadvantage in that she had had no experience of the business of politics. She asked for my assistance, which would have been readily available to her unasked. I was amazed to see how quickly she gathered the reins. In a few months, she had grasped the essentials of how to run a Cabinet meeting and conduct Cabinet business. Always in the background was Felix Dias, virtual Prime Minister, who ran the meetings, a fact which several other Ministers strongly resented.

Madam Prime Minister, like her husband, was always late for a meeting. Felix would come with certain items on the Agenda ticked off with a blue pencil and say ‘Mr Peiris, these items can be taken as approved.’ There was no discussion; and it went on the records as a decision of the Cabinet.

Madam Sirimavo, in spite of her lack of political training, had a marvelous retentive memory. She did not know who my father was and I did not tell her. My father and the Prime Minister’s father, the late Barnes Ratwatte Dissawe, had been very good friends. They belonged to that old class of Chief Headmen, now replaced by a Divisional Revenue Officers’ Service.

When my brother G. S. was appointed Ambassador to Burma, he paid a courtesy call on the Prime Minister who had asked him about his family. He had said his father was Gate Mudaliyar Edmund Peiris and that I was his eldest brother. The Prime Minister had looked surprised for a moment and then told my brother that, before her marriage, her father had gone on medical advice to spend a short holiday by the seaside at Panadura. She had accompanied her father.

The Dissawe had taken on rent a small bungalow not to be compared with the comforts he enjoyed at his Walauwa at Balangoda. When my father heard that his old friend was in town, he had invited the father and daughter to dinner. As usual, my father had acted the good host and the daughter, with her memory, had given my brother a detailed account of the evening.

After a few meetings in the Cabinet Room, Sirimavo changed the venue to Temple Trees, a most unsatisfactory arrangement from the view of the Secretariat although it was excellent from the security angle. The gates were always kept closed and were guarded by about three armed men of the militia. Further inland, hidden among the bushes, were two mounted guns pointing at the gates. The grounds were constantly being patrolled by the guards.

But the files and the reference books which might be wanted during a meeting were all in the Cabinet Office. If a file or a book was required, I had to telephone the office and what was wanted took some time in coming. More than once, I mentioned to the Cabinet the inconvenience of holding the meetings at Temple Trees and at last, after many months had passed, the Ministers agreed to meet once again in the Cabinet Room.

I had told the Cabinet that on meeting days, there were about nine police officers on duty, some in plain clothes, but that all were fully armed. I reminded them I was responsible for their safety during meetings and that all security measures had been taken. Felix Dias retorted, “What’s the use Mr Peiris of you talking of your responsibility and our safety after we are shot.”

For reasons of security, I asked that I be given the power to appoint all future minor employees to the Cabinet Office. This was necessary as these employees served the Ministers with tea and refreshments during a meeting and Treasury circulars required me to get them from the Employment Exchange, and I would not know their background. My request was granted and I filled the first vacancy of sweeper which arose by the appointment of the son of the Senate cook whom I knew to be sober and well behaved.

Some time later, two more vacancies arose. In one case, Felix Dias asked me not to fill the vacancy saying that he would send me a good man from Dompe, his constituency, which he did; and in the other case, I was told that Madam Prime Minister would be sending a man from Horagolla and that I was not to make an appointment on my own. And so, politics for the first time crept into the Cabinet Office at the level of sweeper.

The first Queen’s Speech of Sirimavo’s Government brought them into trouble. Felix Dias interpolated several paragraphs into the draft I had carefully prepared. He did not give a thought to the consequences. The Speech outlines the proposals which the Government intends to implement during the Session. It does not go into very great detail. With my experience, I thought my draft was good in that I had used expressions like” My Government will consider…; My Government intends…; My Government hopes etc.” thereby leaving a way of escape if the Government found it impossible to implement the proposals either for lack of Parliamentary time or for other practical or financial difficulties.

But this did not satisfy Felix. He asked “Why consider, hopes? Say, My Government will”. The Speech therefore contained some definite promises against all my mild protests. These, I know, could not be implemented during the Session. To illustrate my point I shall quote from the Speech of August 12, 1960. None of these proposals had been implemented in 1962:

My Prime Minister will take up the case of persons of Indian descent resident in Ceylon with a view to achieving a satisfactory solution of the problem…

Steps will be taken to revise the Constitution to establish a Republican form of Government…

My Government will introduce a scheme of national service for the youth of this country…

The Prime Minister, once she had got herself properly in the saddle, which was in about six months, was a different woman from the one I had welcomed earlier to her first Cabinet meeting. She was no longer playing second fiddle in her country’s orchestra. She had become a world figure whose word was law. She was the maestro who once said in public “There is no one in this country who can control me”. She wielded a powerful baton under which her bandsmen were made to keep a strict tempo.

It was rumoured that the Prime Minister’s ear was easily accessible to those who cared to tell her who were the friends of the Government and who were its enemies. Public servants were beginning to feel nervous. A false word about a public servant was capable of doing him much damage; and vice versa. There were a few at this time who were having an eye on my place.

There were a few others who would have been glad to see me go. Whether anything, and if so what, was being said about me, I did not know; but I got an early opportunity of speaking to Madam direct about myself.

It happened at a Cabinet meeting when the discussion turned on senior public servants meddling in politics. I turned round to Madam and said I did not know what she had heard about me, that I had no politics and that I spent my spare time with my books, my music and the few friends that I had. I added that my only politics had been limited to exercising my right as a citizen to vote at a general election but that, in order to be at peace with my own conscience and to be perfectly honest, I must tell her that I had always voted UNP. She said, “Mr Peiris, I admire your frankness. Very few would have told me that.”

I continued to serve her loyally. At the next meeting, I showed her the original of the following letter written to me by her late husband after he had left D.S.’s Cabinet and formed his own party.

My dear Peiris,

Thanks for your letter of 13. 07. 51. I much appreciate all you say. Please accept my thanks for the unfailing courtesy and help I always received from you.

Yours sincerely

S.W.R.D. Bandararnaike.

She looked hard at this letter for some time and said “He has written this letter himself. He rarely does that. He dictates them and has them typed.”



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Is power devolution under JVP-NPP a political daydream?

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Former President Chandrika Kumaratunga

The JVP General Secretary Tilvin Silva’s recent remarks at a news conference in Jaffna where he ruled out the possibility of holding provincial council elections this year has been widely reported and widely criticized. About the same time there was another media event in Jaffna that went largely unnoticed and unreported outside Jaffna. What was said at the second media event may carry far more political implications than Tilvin Silva’s election timing talk. A veteran Tamil political participant made the startling yet not implausible statement that the prospect of having political devolution under the JVP-NPP government is becoming “a daydream”. The statement was made by Dr. K. Vigneswaran, who served as Provincial Secretary to the only North-East Provincial Council Government that was elected under the auspices of the Thirteenth Amendment.

Dr. Vigneswaran is a Professional Civil Engineer who studied at Royal College, graduated with First Class Honours in Engineering in 1964, and went on to complete a pioneering PhD at the university of Waterloo, Canada, applying the finite element method (FEM) in the field of Geotechnical Engineering. His engineering career has always been at the Irrigation Department where he rose to a Deputy Director. That was when the department was in its golden years, and Vigneswaran was known for his technical mentorship, meticulous administrative skills, and for knowing the fine print of everything. While at the Irrigation Department, Vigneswaran married Ramya de Silva, a fellow irrigation Engineer. After 1983, Vigneswaran became a fulltime political activist and a powerful resource in Tamil politics, but with unwavering commitment to nonviolence, democracy and federalism. The family moved first to India and then Canada, and Vigneswaran has been shuttling between Canada and Sri Lanka.

Devolution: Tortuous Trajectory

Since 1987, the Indo-Sri Lanka Agreement, and the 13th Amendment, Vigneswaran has been a permanent fixture in all the politics and institutional dynamic of implementing 13A and establishing provincial councils. He served as Secretary to the only elected Provincial Government for the Northern and Eastern Provinces. After 1994 and the election of Chandrika Kumaratunga as President, Vigneswaran became a key participant in all the civil society efforts and government initiatives to restore the PCs and implement 13A, both during the Kumaratunga presidency and the succeeding administrations of Mahinda Rajapaksa and the Sirisena-Wickremesinghe duo.

Devolution efforts stalled after the election of Gotabaya Rajapaksa, who in so many words declared that he had no time for 13A or PCs in his presidential agenda, whatever it was. Only that his whole agenda turned out to be a wholesale disaster for the country. Already by then, all the nine Provincial Councils had fallen into abeyance with the cancellation of the 1988 PC elections by the Sirisena-Wickremesinghe duo, with the TNA standing by. The abeyance continues under the JVP-NPP government with no apparent end in sight after Tilvin de Silva’s statement in Jaffna.

I say all this to provide the proper context for Vigneswaran’s statement in Jaffna that the prospects for power devolution under the JVP-NPP government are becoming a political daydream. He said something else as well: that of all the government leaders he has encountered over the years, the only leader who has been genuinely sincere about power devolution is former President Chandrika Kumaratunga, and no one else. I am constrained to add that the insincere category would include Ranil Wickremesinghe, who for all his handsome promises, never matched any of them with experiential sincerity. The present JVP-NPP government still has time to show that they are not an insincere lot.

It is not my purpose to agree with or question Dr. Vigneswaran’s assertions, but to use them as cue and context to comment on the widening mismatch between the JVP-NPP government’s promises and its practices on the matter of power devolution and the restoration of the PC system. With a stalling economy, rising prices and external shocks, it is obvious that the government has all the economic matters to worry about, but that does not mean that it can ignore all the other government responsibilities. No government is put in power to solve a single problem or address a single issue. It is in the nature of governments to deal with multiple problems with varying priorities. Otherwise you could have a single cabinet minister to deal with one problem at a time. That is never going to be the case.

The economy is of course the top of mind priority for the government even as it is a top of mind concern for the people. Even on the economic front, the government is holding steady but is showing little progress. And there are other government initiatives where political accountability will call for answers: to wit, the catchall Clean Sri Lanka programme, ambitious educational reforms, contentious energy sector reforms and, yes, power devolution as well as the overpromised constitutional reforms. Not to mention the sprawling unforced errors over substandard coal imports, foreign exchange fraud, and the chronic neglect of developing the renewable energy sector. Correcting these fields of errors may require a separate ministry for each.

Devolution: Daydream or Deliverable

On the PC system and constitutional reform, there has been scant progress in spite of handsome promises. On both, the government is inadvertently deepening the holes that it had dug itself into through indifference, inaction or procrastination, or all of them and more. In the matter of devolution and provincial councils, the government can simply defuse the situation by directing the Election Commission to conduct elections at the earliest opportunity that is logistically possible. Making his statement in Jaffna, Mr. Tilvin Silva alluded to funding shortfall and legal complications as reasons for the necessity to postpone PC elections until next year. Neither reason holds water.

The funding question would seem to have been put to rest by the statement of Health Minister and Cabinet Spokesman Nalinda Jayatissa, presumably reflecting cabinet consensus, that there are no funding issues and if needed additional funds could be arranged through supplementary allocations. It is also disingenuous to cite legal complications as a reason. The so called legal complications arose because of the collective stupidity of the Sirisena-Wickremesinghe parliament that included the then miniscule NPP and the politically-lost TNA. The JVP-NPP has now ballooned from a handful MPs to a two-thirds majority and it can expedite any legislation that it wants to enable the PC elections to be held without delays.

Alternatively, the elections can be held under the old arrangement of proportional representation with assurance by political parties to honour their commitment to fielding more female candidates. Already at a gathering of all political parties, including the NPP (but not the JVP), and civil society groups, convened by People’s Action For Free & Fair Elections (PAFFREL), the political parties jointly committed to a 25% quota for women and youth under the old electoral system. The ongoing parliamentary committee exercise studying the legal matter, headed by the overstretched Foreign Minister Vijitha Herath, is also an unnecessary red herring. The Election Commission is ready to go under whatever law or electoral system that is before it. So, there is no reason to hide behind legal complications to further delay the PC elections.

Somewhat amusingly, Public and Parliamentary Affairs Minister Ananda Wijepala has trotted out the argument that the NPP government has already conducted two nationwide elections during the one and a half years it has been in office, and that unlike the Ranil Wickremesinghe government the JVP-NPP is not in the business “to delay elections for our personal benefit” – whatever that means. Unfortunately, the good minister is missing the point. The question is not how many elections can the JVP-NPP hold in how many years, but how many years do people in the provinces have to wait before they vote in another provincial election? How many more years? That really is the question.

We know the current situation in the provinces. There are provincial governments but no elected provincial councils. The government administration in every province is being run by the President of the Republic through his handpicked governors and unelected government officials. This is a travesty of democracy and the euthanizing of the PC system. Already under 13A, the office of the provincial governors has been constitutionally and legally compared to the office of the Governors of old Ceylon who represented the monarch in what was then a crown colony. The irony is that a JVP-NPP President may have inadvertently positioned himself as the monarch of all he provincially surveys, courtesy of the Thirteenth Amendment!

The JVP was in the forefront of the litigation that caused the demerger of the Northern and Eastern Provinces. If Dr. Vigneswaran’s assertion were to prove correct, a potential dissolution of the provincial system under the JVP-NPP government would be the consummation of the JVP’s original opposition to the introduction of the provincial council system itself. The whole system may not be eradicated, but it could be devoured of its democratic essence while preserving the administrative shell as the medium for the country’s president to overreach into the provinces. That would be worse than a daydream, a real nightmare.

by Rajan Philips ✍️

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‘Spectrum’ Art Exhibition Showcases Emerging Talent at Lionel Wendt

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A new art exhibition, titled Spectrum ,will be held at the Lionel Wendt Art Centre on the 20th and 21st of June 2026, bringing together a collection of works by ten emerging artists.

Athsara Wijegunawardena

Neha Thirumavalavan

Dillai Joseph

Wasantha Siriwardena

Champika Dias

Nipun Dias

Dr. Prasanna Siriwardena

Kalhari Perera

Siromi Samarasinghe

Chandana Illankone

All ten artists have trained under the guidance of renowned Sri Lankan artist Royden Gibbs, and this exhibition marks an important point in their individual journeys.

Dr. Prasanna Siriwardena

Spectrum brings together a mix of styles, subjects and approaches, giving visitors a chance to experience a wide range of work in one place. The exhibition will include pieces in watercolors, soft pastels, oils and charcoal, reflecting both the discipline and personal direction of each artist. The work ranges from scenery and portraits to still life and studies of the human form, offering different ways of seeing and interpreting familiar subjects.

Dillai Joseph

Although they share the same mentor, each artist presents a distinct point of view. The result is a show that feels varied yet connected, with each piece carrying its own character and intent. It is this balance that gives Spectrum its identity.

The exhibition aims to support and highlight emerging talent within Sri Lanka’s art scene, while also creating a space where artists and audiences can connect. Visitors will find work that shifts between quiet observation and more expressive pieces, making it an engaging experience for both seasoned collectors and those simply interested in art.

Spectrum is expected to draw art lovers, collectors, students and members of the wider creative community. It also offers an opportunity to discover and support new artists at an early stage in their careers.

Open to the public over two days, Spectrum invites visitors to experience a range of work in a venue that has long been part of Colombo’s cultural landscape.

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Rewiring Brain: Meditation to Break the Cycle of Craving

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“Craving begets sorrow, craving begets fear. For him who is free from craving there is no sorrow; how can there be fear for him,” Dhammapada verse 216 states. The mental factor craving, Tanha in Pali, is central to Buddhist Teaching, as its ultimate goal is the cessation or extinction of it—tanhakkhaya. Even though Tanha is translated as craving here, it can sometimes mislead modern readers into thinking tanha only refers to extreme or physical addictions. Just as with any Pali term, it has broad meanings. Venerable Walpola Rahula describes it as “thirst” or unceasing wanting, one of the deep-rooted proclivities or latent tendencies (anusaya) of life (Rahula 1959), without which life as we know would not exist.

Even though the Buddha recognized this natural phenomenon two and a half millennia ago, it was only in the late 20th century that science took note of it and gave it a captivating term—the Hedonic Treadmill. The advantage of this empirical investigation to us Buddhists is that it provides a way to gain penetrative, experiential comprehension (anubodha) of this concept using the vernacular of this technology-savvy age—an alternative to struggling with the language of a bygone era.

These investigations have revealed that there are no hard-to-comprehend metaphysical or mysterious elements involved with this phenomenon; it is a biochemical process fundamental to sustaining life. What is more, an effort to grasp this concept would be well within the goals of Vipassana meditation described in the Sutta Pitaka, incorporating the four elements of investigation: body (kayanupassana), sensations (vedananupassana), mind (chittanupassana), and natural laws (dhammanupassana).

Vipassana and modern science

Vipassana meditation is an in-depth exploration of how humans perceive the world, gain knowledge, and interact with themselves and the environment. Knowing this with wisdom allows one to lead a harmonious way of life (samadhi), a condition conducive to curbing the “thirst” and achieving the Buddhist ideal. The goal of modern science is also to investigate life, but humanity has often used that knowledge to increase material wealth and comfort, providing only lip service to spirituality on the fringe.

An attitude that tends to ignore the consequences of wanting more and more – thirst, potentially endangering the planet. However, that does not prevent us from using scientific information as and aid or a tool to grasp Buddhist concepts. The scientific method bears parallels to the Buddhist approach: it is based on causality (paticcasamuppada), empirical verification (ehipassiko), systematic observation (meditation), and rejecting dogma and beliefs. The primary difference is simply the vocabulary used.

The process of perception: five aggregates

Our five external sense organs receive data (vedana) containing information on the environment: Eyes: receive light, Ears: receive sound, Skin: senses physical contact and temperature, Nose & Tongue: sense chemical properties of substances. The data received by the sense organs is transmitted to the brain, where it is registered as neural networks (sanna). Neural networks, which are interconnected groups of nerve cells (neurons) can be viewed as mind-readable QR codes.

The activity of the brain, or mind (mano), processes this data and converts them into actionable information (sankhara). Modern neuroscience and psychology have made great advances in understanding these processes at the molecular level. This process allows the individual to become aware of their environment, build an autobiographical memory or the notion of a self (atta), and take actions to protect and perpetuate life.

The Pali term vinnana refers to the collection of information committed to memory. Translating vinnana as “consciousness” can be confusing, as the latter often refers to all brain activities. All physical phenomena that sense organs encounter and the mental constructs (sankhara) are referred to as Rupa. This activity of mind forms the basis of all knowledge, representing the entire world as perceived by the individual. This process is what the Teaching refers to as the Five Aggregates (pancakkhanda). The critical takeaway is that the world we perceive is merely a mental construct. While an objective world exists, our sense organs have limitations in seeing it—a fact easily realized through the hundreds of illusions used for entertainment.

Evolution and emotion

The evolutionary purpose of this data processing mechanism is to enable living beings to respond to environmental factors for survival. The psychological and physiological state that arises prior to acting is called emotion. Primarily, emotions can be of three kinds: desire (loba) – seeing a new phone causes an urge to buy it, even though the current one works fine; aversion (dosha) – encountering a vicious dog triggers a “fight or flight” response; delusion (moha) or illusion – an unanswered message to a loved one triggers worry or speculation. Thus, tanha or thirst represents how we connect to the world in its entirety; it can be desire, aversion, and delusion, not merely simple greed. Consequently, these are natural phenomena beyond our immediate control, which are intended to sustain life. In other words, emotions are the forerunner to volitions or intentions, which the Teaching defines as kamma.

The biochemistry of craving

Emotions result from the interaction between the nervous system and biochemicals known as neurotransmitters and neuromodulators (e.g., dopamine, serotonin, epinephrine, GABA, glutamate, acetylcholine, and endorphins). Just as the Buddha’s simile of two bundles of bamboo supporting each other describes, these two processes are interdependent and co-arising. Every thought or emotional state corresponds to patterns of neural firing. When neurons fire, they release these chemicals into synapses, influencing how one feels and acts. This release perturbs the body’s normal balance, or homeostasis. Once an action is complete, these chemicals are reabsorbed, and the body returns to its baseline.

Return to baseline is essential for survival. For example, if we stay satisfied with just one meal forever, we could not sustain life. Nature has developed another mechanism to prevent us from being satisfied – we also habituate. In the case of dopamine, the brain adapts by reducing the response to the same stimulus. To get the same level of satisfaction with repeated experiences, the amounts of neurotransmitters needed keeps increasing. This leads to the cycle of craving and dissatisfaction—the Hedonic Treadmill. You “run” toward happiness on the treadmill, but it does not take you anywhere, leaving you in the same emotionally unsatisfactory state, wanting more and more.

Breaking the cycle

This explains why achievements and possessions do not bring permanent happiness, and lead to a cycle of struggle, addiction, crime, and other ills of society. For Buddhists, it also explains why we cling to meaningless rituals. The Dhamma captured this complex phenomenon in the Four Noble Truths: pleasant experiences are impermanent (anicca), leading to grasping (tanha) and unsatisfactoriness (dukkha). The remedy is the Eightfold Path that involves wisdom (panna), conduct (sila), and harmony (samadhi).

Neuroplasticity and the point of liberation

While we cannot stop the sense organs from receiving stimulation (vedana) and sending them to brain, the mind can be developed to prevent vedana from leading to tanha. This is the “point of liberation,” the seventh link in the paticcasamuppada formula. We may not have free will, but we have ‘Free Won’t’ or the ability to say no to the natural tendency to act upon stimuli. We can rewire our neural connections to do so. This ability can be cultivated by practice and repetition, and neuroscience refers to it as neuroplasticity—the brain’s ability to change with experience.

The natural tendency of the brain is to strengthen frequently used neural networks while weakening and eliminating lesser used networks and building new ones as needed. This is known as neural plasticity or rewiring the brain. As described in the Eight-fold Path, the way to weaken and eliminate dopamine-driven neural networks includes three aspects. First, the process leading to thirst must be understood. One must engage in sila – activities and thoughts that cultivate Metta: loving-kindness and goodwill, Karuna: compassion, Mudita: appreciative joy, and Upekkha: equanimity, emotional stability, calmness, and evenness of mind in the face of gain and loss, praise and blame, fame and disrepute, pleasure, and pain. That must be done with wisdom, ritualistic behavior does not strengthen the correct neural networks. These activities promote a “cocktail” of oxytocin, serotonin, and GABA, subduing the role of dopamine and helping us step off the Hedonic Treadmill. This leads to a tranquil state of mind and a harmonious existence – samadhi. Again, it is an interdependent, co-arising process that improves upon repetition. Using mind altering substances hijacks this process, thus the need for adhering to the Fifth Precept.

The goal of Vipassana is to understand this process and train the mind to say “no” to tanha. It is not just about sitting on a mat; it requires developing a lifestyle that maintains homeostasis or harmony, samadhi, at every moment. Pali term bhavana means the development of wisdom and insight. In modern vernacular – rewiring brain. This model must be assessed for its efficacy by the individual and realize the benefits by themselves –ehipassiko; knowledge without practice does not work. According to what the Buddha taught, that is the path to cessation or extinction of craving – tanhakkhaya, the supreme goal.

by Geewananda Gunawardana, Ph.D. ✍️

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