A Meditation Instruction

 A Meditation Instruction

Attention to the finer details of the sitting posture has never been a prominent feature of the Theravada meditation tradition. Very few forest monks sit in full lotus with each foot upturned on the opposite thigh, or fold their hands in a perfect mudra. 

For example, with the hands folded in the lap and each thumb lightly touching. The basic instructions are simply to establish a posture that is stable and erect, with the main criterion being that the posture be one in which the meditator can sit for a reasonably long time with the minimum of unnecessary discomfort. 

Luang Phor (Venerable Father) treated posture as a straightforward matter. Meditators generally sat flat on the floor. Luang Por did not however object to the introduction of meditation cushions at Wat Pah Nanachat, the branch monastery he established for his Western disciples. 

At the beginning of a meditation session, he would simply give instructions to take the cross-legged posture, place the right leg on the left, the right hand on the left, keep the back straight, make oneself comfortable – not too tense and not too relaxed – and close the eyes. The preference for right over left here is simply a tradition that has been passed down from forest monks of previous generations. 

Conceivably, it originated in some consideration of internal energy flows, but Luang Phor never spoke in such terms.

Having paid homage to the Buddha (Awakened One), Dhamma (The truth of the way things are, and the path leading to the realization of that truth. 

A phenomenon in and of itself. A mental state) and Saṇgha (The community of Buddhist monks (Bhikkhus) and nuns (Bhikkhunīs), meditators either turned to their main meditation object or began with a preliminary practice. Luang Phor sometimes suggested going through the thirty-two parts of the body before turning to the breath. Apart from being a good mindfulness practice in itself, this reinforced skillful perceptions of the body that could then be taken up for deeper investigation when the mind had been strengthened by Samādhi (This terms refers to concentration, unification of mind, mental stability. As the title of the second of the three trainings, Samādhi is an umbrella term covering the whole realm of effort for the purpose of abandoning the unwholesome and cultivating the wholesome). Luang Phor also taught less experienced meditators to follow the breath in and out of the body for a certain period before focusing on one particular point, such as the tip of the nose:

Focus your mindfulness so that it follows the breath entering your body and leaving it. Follow the beginning of the breath, the middle of the breath, the end of the breath. With mindfulness, keep the breath in mind; and with alertness, be aware that right now you are breathing. On the inhalation, the beginning of the breath is at the nose tip, the middle at the heart and the end at the abdomen. On the exhalation, the beginning of the breath lies at the abdomen, the middle at the heart and the end at the tip of the nose. Focus on these three points. 

The mind, your awareness, has no time to sneak off and take hold of other objects because it’s preoccupied with being aware, right here, of both the inhalation and the exhalation. If the mind goes off in search of other objects, it shows that mindfulness has slipped. Establish it again. Be aware of exactly where the breath is passing at each moment. 

Keep looking. Sometimes your mind runs off for a long time without you being aware of it. 

Suddenly you realize that mindfulness has been lost again. Start afresh. If you practice in this way, then you will develop a good working knowledge of the beginning, middle and end of the breath. After you’ve trained in this way for a sufficient time, mindfulness will be constantly present on the inhalation and the exhalation. There will be mindfulness at the beginning of the breath, its middle and end.

Initially, you will have a few difficulties. But later, as you become more experienced, it will no longer be necessary to follow the breath in and out. Now anchor the awareness at the tip of your nose. Stop right there and note whether the breath is long or short, be aware of the inhalation and the exhalation at that point. When you first start to practice sitting meditation, give this method a try. 

When you’re concentrating on the breath, there’s no need to force it. It’s similar to learning how to use a pedal sewing machine. To sew properly you need to find a rhythm between your hand and foot. So when you’re first learning to use a sewing machine, what do you do? You practice pedaling freely without sewing anything. Once you can pedal fluently, then you start on some cloth.

Your breath is the same, there’s no need to make it a certain way; it doesn’t matter whether it’s long or short provided that it feels comfortable … If the breath is too long or too short or too strong, don’t force it, allow it to find its own balance. All you have to do is focus on the inhalation and the exhalation. You don’t have to contemplate anything else. It’s enough to be aware of the breath. 

When you do this, certain thoughts will arise, ‘What’s the use of this?’ and so on. Keep going. 

Don’t get caught in doubts. There’s no need to answer them. There’s no need to think. It’s not your job. 

Your job is simply to be aware of the breath as it enters and leaves the body. You don’t want to see deities or Brahma gods, but you want to see the breath. It is sufficient merely that you don’t forget the breath. 

Understand and then cut off the various objects that pass in and out of awareness, and let them go.

Thoughts and moods are changeful. Perhaps when you start sitting you begin to feel homesick, and the mind starts proliferating about this matter and that. The moment you start thinking of home, then remind yourself, ‘It’s changeful!’ Fond thoughts of home are impermanent and so are negative ones. You can’t believe any of it. Your mind lies to you. 

You have to assert this changeful nature of things. Sometimes you hate this person and that, but it doesn’t last. Sometimes you love this person and that, but it doesn’t last either. Pin the mind down right there and where can it go? When you hate someone, you fabricate a certain image of them. 

When you love someone, you do the same. The mind starts to suffer. Sometimes you may detest someone so much that whenever you think of them tears of fury start to flow. Do you see what I mean? How could that be real and lasting?

See mental states as merely mental states. All of them are impermanent. 

We have to cut things off because they will delude us if we don’t. We perceive something as good, and we remind ourselves that the good is changeful. Something else is experienced as bad, and that is changeful too. Don’t let your mind grasp on to the good; don’t let it grasp on to the bad. If you have the measure of mental states in this way, then they lose their significance. 

Just keep working away at it. The states that arise, good or bad, have no intrinsic value, and they will gradually fade away. If you follow them and keep an eye on them, you’re bound to see this truth of changefulness. Your initial practice has to be like this. Be mindful.

Subsequently, you will see the breath, mindfulness and the mind simultaneously at one point. 

The word ‘see’ here doesn’t refer to ordinary vision. It’s a seeing with awareness, by the internal, not the external, eye. 

The awareness of the breath is here, mindfulness is here, the sense of knowing – the mind – is here. They converge in one harmonious whole. 

When we see that harmony, the mind will detach from sensual desire, ill-will, sloth and torpor, worry and agitation, and indecision. These five hindrances will be gone completely. 

All that you will see is the breath. 

There will be just mindfulness and the mind in one point. With the absence of the five hindrances, you can take it that the mind has entered Samādhi.

You must know when the breath is coarse and when it is fine, and you have to know right there. 

After that, you must focus on the breath to make it more and more subtle and fine until its coarseness has disappeared. The refinement of the breath is such that as you sit and contemplate the breath, it becomes so subtle that there’s almost no breath, or so it seems. 

Don’t be alarmed. The breath is still there, it’s just that it’s extremely subtle. So, what do you do then? 

You must use your mindfulness to make the absence of breath your meditation object. At this point, some people may become alarmed, afraid that their breathing will stop and that it’s dangerous. You must reassure yourself that it’s quite safe and that there’s no danger. All that is necessary is that you maintain mindfulness, the awareness, the knowing.

The mind is now in a very subtle state. 

At this level, it doesn’t have to be controlled, you don’t have to do anything. All that is needed is to maintain mindfulness and alertness. 

You should be aware that at that moment the mind is acting automatically, it’s not necessary to adjust its quality. Now simply maintain a steady mindfulness and alertness. 

The mind has fully entered the state of lucid calm. Sometimes the mind will enter and leave this state at short intervals. Sometimes when it has withdrawn, it will become lucidly calm again for a short time, and then it will emerge once more and become aware of sense objects. The mind, having withdrawn from Samādhi, comprehends the nature of various things that arise in awareness. There will be a rapture in the Dhamma, wisdom will arise. Many kinds of knowledge will arise at this point.

The mind, at this moment, will have entered the stage of Vipassanā (Corruptions of clear seeing’. 

Attachment to intense meditation experiences leading to an overestimation of progress on the path). You must firmly establish mindfulness, concentration and alertness. When wisdom arises, the mind is in Vipassanā, which is a continuation of Samatha (Tranquility, the state of lucid calm). This is called the process of the mind. You must attain mastery in entering and leaving states of tranquility. When you have done so, then you will know the nature of the states of mind and the nature of the mind that withdraws. 

You must be astute in entering and leaving Samādhi, establishing a strong degree of mindfulness and alertness at these points. Here the mind has come to an end of turmoil. Whether it’s moving forwards or back, all the states of mind lie within the lucid calm.

On reaching the appropriate time for the meditation to end, review what you did before you entered Samādhi. 

How did you establish your mind so as to be so peaceful? Then, the next time you sit, you must consider the first thing to do. Recall how you focused your mind when you withdrew from Samādhi. You must know this. 

Although you have ended your sitting meditation, you should not look on it as an end to Samādhi. You should be determined to continue being aware and focused and mindful. Whether standing, walking, sitting or lying down, you must be constantly mindful. 

~ Ajahn Chah