Santuṭṭhi and the Meaning of Contentment
Ajahn Amaro • December 2008
Contentment, or santuṭṭhi, is often talked about in the context of material possessions. It’s the quality of being content with whatever is offered—the food that’s presented to us each day, whatever shelter is available to us for one night, and whatever robes and medicine are accessible to us. That’s an important aspect of contentment and a very grounding one—to have few material needs and few material possessions. This is our training.
It’s also important to consider how santuṭṭhi permeates all aspects of the path. It’s not solely a matter of renunciation or not being moved by desire, agitation, or fear in terms of material things or how we relate to other people. Contentment is also the basis for concentration, samādhi—that quality of being content with this moment, this breath, this footstep, this feeling in the knee, this sound in the room, this quality of mood. To be content with just this moment is of enormous importance in terms of samādhi, concentration. And if there’s discontent—I have to become more concentrated, gain more insight, be more comfortable, I have to, I have to—then even though we may be well intentioned, discontent continually creates a cause for agitation and a lack of focus. As a result, samādhi is far away
The quality of contentment can drift off in certain ways. It can turn into dullness or laziness or an urge to switch off, while at the same time we’re thinking of ourselves as being content. Actually, we’re simply steering the mind toward numbness, a non-feeling state or a feeling of wanting to get rid of, not bothering with. That’s not contentment. Contentment isn’t a quality of begrudging resignation—Oh well, I’m stuck with this mood, this particular problem or feeling. I’ll just grit my teeth and bear it. I’ll just wait for this to be over—this is merely dullness, a nihilistic attitude. By contrast, when we are content there is a bright, radiant quality present. Contentment has a great lightness and clarity to it,
Contentment can also drift off in the opposite direction into complacency, self-satisfaction, being pleased with ourselves. I’m fine. I don’t need to do anything with my mind. Everything is perfect. That’s taking it too far in the opposite direction. Contentment is a bright and energetic state, but it’s also free from self view and self-centeredness. It’s not colored by an Ime-mine attitude. Santuṭṭhi is not only a basis for samādhi, but also for vipassanā, insight. It’s the ability to be content with seeing this feeling, this thought, this mood, or this memory as a pattern of nature. We’re not buying into it, trying to read a story into it, or claiming it as self or other. Contentment allows us to leave things alone. A painful memory arises, does its thing, and ceases. An exciting fantasy arises, does its thing, and ceases. An important responsibility arises, does its thing, and ceases. That’s it. This is a characteristic of contentment, we’re able to leave things alone. The mental formations, the patterns of the world—we can let them be. It’s not because we’re switching off, we don’t care, or we’re resentfully resigned to some situation. Rather, it’s a gentleness and presence of mind, a sense of the fullness of being. We’re not needing to extract something from this thought, this feeling, this moment, or this experience.
Vipassanā is based on being able to attend simply to the process of an experience, rather than buying into its content. This requires restraint and in particular, sense restraint: not maneuvering to get more in the way of our requisites, not getting fussy and picky in terms of robes, food, shelter, or medicine. It’s very basic. But the things we learn on such a basic, material level reach right to the core of our training, our spiritual practices, and our development of insight. It’s the same with the quality of contentment—being at ease, tapping into the fullness of Dhamma, the completeness of Dhamma. It’s always here because contentment is related to the quality of wholeness. It reflects the wholeness and the completeness of Dhamma. Nothing is missing, nothing needs to be added or taken away. Knowing this, we can be content with the way things are.