Features

The path to knowledge: Granduncle helps me to go to Peradeniya

Published

2 years ago

2024/06/23

by Jayantha Perera

Nineteen sixty-seven was a momentous year for me. At the age of 47, Thaththa died of a heart attack. He was the sole breadwinner in the family. Overnight, Amma and her four sons found themselves in dire straits, as he did not leave any savings or life insurance. Amma, 40, had never earned an income. My elder brother, Nihal, 18, told me he would become a Catholic priest. My younger brothers, Gamini, 14, and Parakrama, 12, were too young to take over any family responsibility. At the age of 16, I became the head of our family.

We sold our two bicycles. When the mantel of our Aladine lamp burnt out, we lit a small kerosene lamp in the sitting room. The quality and quantity of our food changed rapidly. Breakfast became a slice of bread with a little jam. We could not afford to eat anything for dinner besides a piece of bread dipped in a watery lentil curry. Lunch was rice with a mallum (sauteed green leafy vegetable), half of a boiled egg, lunumiris (crushed chilly with onions), and kirihodi (coconut milk curry). Fortunately, we each got two kilos of rice free weekly from the Co-Operative Store. Occasionally, Amma cooked a fish curry and steamed string hoppers for dinner.

Several relatives and friends advised me to find a job, abandoning my plan to pursue undergraduate studies. They meant well, as there was no breadwinner in our family of five. My granduncle, Aachchi’s brother, promised Amma a monthly stipend of Rs.250 (US$25).

In April 1968, I sat the GCE Advanced Level examination. While trying to overcome the shock of thaththa’s death and financial difficulties, I studied hard for the examination. At the end of the examination, I knew I had done well. The Department of Education took three months to release the examination results. The college clerk told me I had scored the highest in the Arts stream. One month later, the department informed me that I was qualified to join the University of Peradeniya as an undergraduate.

I visited my granduncle, who lived in Kalutara, to tell him about my examination results. His dark blue Austin Cambridge car was parked in front of the house. He was in a white sarong and a short-sleeved vest. His long grey hair fell over his shoulder. He was happy to see me and asked me to sit on a comfortable chair. He sat on a chair with a straight back, complaining about his back pain. His son and daughter joined us. Next to me was a beautiful piano. A large painting of the ‘Last Supper’ decorated the wall behind it. A grandfather clock with a long pendulum announced every second with a constant sound. Every 15 minutes, it chimed a tune that I did not know. The floor was polished like a mirror, and I could inhale the strong smell of ‘Mansion polish.’

Granduncle was happy to hear my examination results and patted my shoulder with a broad smile. He called the housekeeper and told her to kill a chicken and prepare a biriyani meal to celebrate my success. A house helper served me cake and strong milk tea on a silver tray. While sipping tea, I thought about how to broach my university plan.

Granduncle waited until I had tea. He then asked me, “What will you do now?”

“I like to go to university.” I watched his face, unsure how he would react. He thought for a minute or two, started tapping the chair’s armrest with his right-hand fingertips, and then played with his long hair.

“How do you plan to find money to attend the university?” he inquired.

“I don’t know. But I would like to go to the university,” I told my granduncle in tears. I thought he might refuse to help me. Then I told him I had scored the highest marks on the examination. I was one of the youngest students to pass the Advanced Level examination.

“Can’t you get a “schoolship” (scholarship)?” He was interested to know.

“I don’t know,” I said. I thought my granduncle would not agree to help me as he had promised Amma Rs 250 a month for our subsistence. I made up my mind to continue higher studies as an external student at the university, if I could not raise money to go to Peradeniya.

“My businesses aren’t doing well nowadays. Now I need more money as at least one of my children might decide to do higher studies,” he lamented. “How much would it cost at the university for a year?” he queried.

“I guess about Rs 1500 a year,” I informed him. His daughter intervened by saying, “Thaththi, if you don’t help him, who is there to help?” He looked at her, smiled, and said, “Yes, you are right.” After a few seconds, he said, “Hondai (alright), I will give you money to complete your studies.”

Then I hesitantly told him I needed clothes, shoes, and a suitcase. He told me, “Go to Maha Kade (Grand Shop) at Padiyapallela (a bazaar town on the road to Nuwera Eliya from Kandy) and get whatever you want from there. I will tell the manager.” Amma cried when I told her my granduncle agreed to support me. She was sad to hear that I was going to live in Peradeniya. I consoled her by saying that Kandy is only three hours from home and that I would visit them at least once a month.

I travelled about 10 hours by bus to reach my granduncle’s shop at Padiyapelalla. The shop staff warmly welcomed me. The manager told me that my granduncle had informed him about our arrival. He smiled and told me, “You can take anything you want. That was the advice I got from your granduncle.” After a long time, I felt happy and empowered as I could see a clear path that would take me to the university and beyond.

I decided to spend some time at the shop, and at my request, I got the retail branch’s cashier post for two weeks. My job was to check invoices, collect customers’ payments, and, at the end of the day, tally the amount of money received with bills and invoices. I worked from 8.00 am to 8.00 pm with a 30-minute break for lunch. My granduncle heard about my new job and was happy that I offered to stay for two weeks. The smell of dried fish and the ink of newspaper reams engulfed me, but I got used to the odour after a few days.

Amma was elated to see my new clothes and the leather suitcase when I returned home. She went through my new possessions while shedding tears. She told me Thaththa would have bought all my necessities for the university had he been alive.

The day I left for the University of Ceylon, Peradeniya, with Gamini, Amma woke up early and cooked kiribath (milk rice). She wanted me to pray in front of Thaththa’s photo in the sitting room and request him to protect and guide me in my new life. I told him I was leaving home like a hingannek (beggar). Still, one day, I would return as a scholar and look after Amma. She gave me Rs.10. I knew that was all she could give me. She cried and advised me to contact my granduncle if I encountered any trouble. She did not forget to tell me that I should be careful with girls.

My granduncle was waiting for us at his shop. He took us upstairs for lunch. Gamini and I slept a few hours in his room. I felt happy to sleep on a bed after a long time. Uncle got a butter cake from a nearby bakery and came upstairs to have tea with us. He told me that he was proud of me. As my father was no more, he said, he gladly had taken the responsibility to look after his niece and her four children.

I brought a letter from the university that described various payments I should make to the university. For a term, the total cost, including registration, laundry, food, and accommodation, was Rs.267 (US$ 30). I showed the letter to my granduncle. He asked me when I should pay the university fees and how much. I told him I should pay the next day. He gave me Rs. 300. When I returned the balance, he said, “You keep it, and if you want more money, let me know. Please visit us often and don’t forget to tell me about interesting things you learn at the university. I’d love to listen to your stories.”

On the following day, my granduncle awoke early. He spent more than half an hour getting ready to accompany me to the university. He first wore a short, plain cotton sarong and a vest. Over the vest, he wore a long shirt with six buttonholes in its upper portion. He took a gold chain from a small cupboard with six small knob-like buttons and embedded them in the six holes. Then he wrapped a heavy tweed cloth around his waist over the sarong. He tied a long, heavy silver chain around his waist, with a small part of it hanging. Then he combed his hair and tied it in a small knot. Meanwhile, I wore my new clothes and shoes. I thought the shoes were too tight.

Gamini, my granduncle, and I travelled by bus to Kandy. He took us to a hotel in Kandy for breakfast. He was in a reflective mood. I asked him, “Are you okay?” He smiled, held my hand, and said, “I am very happy for you. If you do well in life, your mother and brothers will also do well.”

My granduncle took us to a business associate in Kandy who had a wholesale business outlet known as SK Stores. He introduced me to the businessman, saying, “Look, this is ape lameyek (our lad). Please give him whatever he wants and send me a chit for the total amount I owe you.”

We took a bus from Kandy to the university. The suitcase was heavy, and carrying it on my shoulder had crushed my new shirt. I was sweating and felt hungry. My granduncle decided to go to the university chapel first. At the church, we prayed silently, and after prayers, my granduncle dipped his finger in lamp oil at the altar and dropped a few drops onto my tongue. He said the holy oil would help me in my studies and protect me from evil forces.

The hall of residence — the Marcus Fernando Hall – was on the slope of a hill. We trudged along a winding road to the hall from the chapel. My granduncle was tired, and we had to break our walk several times so that he could catch his breath. While carrying all my possessions in the suitcase, I wondered why my granduncle did not bring his Austin Cambridge car for this journey or hire a private vehicle from Kandy. My father would have hired a car from Kandy to the university. I wondered how my father would have reacted to my joining Peradeniya University. He might have wanted me to join Colombo University so I could stay home and attend lectures as a dayscholar.

Registration at the hall took about 20 minutes. The polished corridors reminded me of my granduncle’s house. I walked to my room, touching the wall because I feared slipping on the polished floor. My granduncle wanted to see the shared facilities at the hall. He checked the toilets and bathing areas.

My assigned room was large and had a wash basin in a narrow passage. The room had three narrow spring beds, two large, heavy tables, three wooden chairs, and two table lamps. I spread my new bedsheet on one of the beds and took out the new pillow. The room’s balcony was spacious and overlooked the jungle behind the hall. There was a poorly maintained volleyball court just below the balcony. Granduncle spent some time on the balcony, viewing the Hantana mountains.

I walked with my granduncle and Gamini to the bus stand. While waiting for the bus, he advised Gamini to study well and enter the university as his brother did. Gamini listened but did not respond. Granduncle wanted to know whether I needed money for my meals. I told him that the university provides all meals. He took his large wallet, picked a one hundred rupees note from its inner pocket, and gave it to me without saying anything. The bus arrived; my granduncle kissed my head and left with Gamini.

When I entered my room, I saw my two roommates, Piyasena from Warakapola and Premaratne from Opanayaka. I was unfamiliar with their names, as all my friends had Christian names at college. We exchanged pleasantries and discussed dividing the room among the three of us. Then we heard a bell, and we went out. It was the invitation for lunch in the dining room. A minor staff member walked up and down the corridor shouting, “Please wear your trousers and shoes before coming to the dining room.”

Students sat on large benches fixed to heavy tables below the High Table. When we sat down, the chairman of the occasion got up from the High Table. He introduced himself as the Warden of the Hall and professor of modern history. He outlined university traditions, expectations from “freshers,” and their privileges. He was in his academic gown, and I was mesmerized by its colours and movements when he addressed us.

Another speaker from the High Table warned us that “ragging is prohibited on campus,” and we were responsible for informing the senior staff if someone tried to rag us. The lunch was like the one I had at my granduncle’s house. I remembered my brothers and mother and wished they were with me to share this experience and good food.

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Features

Is power devolution under JVP-NPP a political daydream?

Published

12 hours ago

2026/06/7

Thilina Walpola

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 ✍️

Features

‘Spectrum’ Art Exhibition Showcases Emerging Talent at Lionel Wendt

Published

12 hours ago

2026/06/7

Thilina Walpola

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.

: Nipun Dias

: Wasantha Siriwardena

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.

Features

Rewiring Brain: Meditation to Break the Cycle of Craving

Published

12 hours ago

2026/06/7

Thilina Walpola

“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. ✍️