Buddhist Meditation
by Francis Story (The Anagarika Sugatananda)
The
mental exercise known as meditation is found in all religious systems.
Prayer is a form of discursive meditation, and in Hinduism the reciting
of slokas and mantras is employed to tranquilize the mind to a state of
receptivity.
In most of these systems the goal is identified with the particular
psychic results that ensue, sometimes very
quickly; and the visions that come in the semi-trance state, or the
sounds that are heard, are considered to be the end-result of the
exercise. This is not the case in the forms of meditation practiced in
Buddhism.
There is still comparatively little known about the mind, its
functions and its powers, and it is difficult for most people to
distinguish between self-hypnosis, the development of mediumistic
states, and the real process of mental clarification and direct
perception which is the object of Buddhist mental concentration.
The fact that mystics of every religion have induced on themselves
states wherein they see visions and hear voices that are in accordance
with their own religious beliefs indicates that their meditation has
resulted only in bringing to the surface of the mind and objectifying
the concepts already embedded in the deepest strata of their
subconscious minds.
The Christian sees and converses with the saints of whom he already
knows; the Hindu visualizes the gods of the Hindu pantheon, and so on.
When Sri Ramakrishna Paramahamsa, the Bengali mystic, began to turn his
thoughts towards Christianity, he saw visions of Jesus in his
meditations, in place of his former eidetic images of the Hindu Avatars.
The practiced hypnotic subject becomes more and more readily able to
surrender himself to the suggestions made to him by the hypnotiser, and
anyone who has studied this subject is bound to see a connection between
the mental state of compliance he has reached and the facility with
which the mystic can induce whatever kind of experiences he wills
himself to undergo.
There is still another possibility latent in the practice of
meditation; the development of mediumistic faculties by which the
subject can actually see and hear beings on different planes of
existence, the Devalokas and the realm of the unhappy ghosts, for
example.
These worlds being nearest to our own are the more readily
accessible, and this is the true explanation of the psychic phenomena of
Western Spiritualism.
The object of Buddhist meditation, however, is none of these things.
They arise as side-products, but not only are they not its goal, but
they are hindrances which have to be overcome.
The Christian who has seen Jesus, or the Hindu who has conversed with
Bhagavan Krishna may be quite satisfied that he has fulfilled the
purpose of his religious life, but the Buddhist who sees a vision of the
Buddha knows by that very fact that he has only succeeded in
objectifying a concept in his own mind, for the Buddha after his
Parinibbana is, in his own words, no longer visible to gods or men.
There is an essential difference, then, between Buddhist meditation
and concentration and that practiced in other systems. The Buddhist
embarking on a course of meditation does well to recognize this
difference and to establish in his own conscious mind a clear idea of
what it is he is trying to do.
The root-cause of rebirth and suffering is avijja conjoined with and
reacting upon tanha. These two causes form a vicious circle; on the one
hand, concepts, the result of ignorance, and on the other hand, desire
arising from concepts.
The
world of phenomena has no meaning beyond the meaning given to it by our
own interpretation. When that interpretation is conditioned by avijja,
we are subject to the state known as vipallasa, or hallucination.
Saa-vipallasa, hallucination of perception; citta-vipallasa,
hallucination of consciousness, and ditthi-vipallasa, hallucination of
views, cause us to regard that which is impermanent (anicca) as
permanent, that which is painful (dukkha) as a source of pleasure, and
that which is unreal (anatta), or literally without any self existence,
as being a real, self-existing entity. Consequently, we place a false
interpretation on all the sensory experiences we gain through the six
channels of cognition, that is, the eye, ear, nose, tongue, sense of
touch and mind cakkhu, sota, ghana, jivha, kaya and mano (ayatana).
Physics, by showing that the realm of phenomena we know through these
channels of cognition does not really correspond to the physical world
known to science, has confirmed this Buddhist truth.
We are deluded by our own senses. Pursuing what we imagine to be
desirable, an object of pleasure, we are in reality only following a
shadow, trying to grasp a mirage. It is anicca, dukkha, anatta ?
impermanent, associated with suffering, an insubstantial.
Being so, it can only be the cause of impermanence, suffering and
insubstantiality, since like begets like; and we ourselves, who chase
the illusion, are also impermanent, subject to suffering and without any
persistent ego-principle. It is a case of a shadow pursuing a shadow.
The purpose of Buddhist meditation, therefore, is to gain more than
an intellectual understanding of this truth, to liberate ourselves from
the delusion and thereby put an end to both ignorance and craving.
If the meditation does not produce results tending to this
consummation ? results which are observable in the character and the
whole attitude to life ? it is clear that there is something wrong
either with the system or with the method of employing it. It is not
enough to see lights, to have visions or to experience ecstasy.
These phenomena are too common to be impressive to the Buddhist who
really understands the purpose of Buddhist meditation. There are actual
dangers in them which are apparent to one who is also a student of
psychopathology.
In the Buddha’s great discourse on the practice of mindfulness, the
Maha-satipatthana Sutta, both the object and the means of attaining it
are clearly set forth. Attentiveness to the movements of the body, to
the ever-changing states of the mind, is to be cultivated in order that
their real nature should be known.
Instead of identifying these physical and mental phenomena with the
false concept of “self,” we are to see them as they really are:
movements of a physical body, an aggregate of the four elements, (mahabhutas)
subject to physical laws of causality on the one hand, and on the other,
a flux of successive phases of consciousness arising and passing away in
response to external stimuli. They are to be viewed objectively, as
though they were processes not associated with ourselves but belonging
to another order of phenomena.
From what can selfishness and egotism proceed if not from the concept
of “self” (sakkayaditthi)? If the practice of any form of meditation
leaves selfishness or egotism unabated, it has not been successful. A
tree is judged by its fruits and a man by his actions; there is no other
criterion. Particularly is this true in Buddhist psychology, because the
man is his actions.
In the truest sense they, or the continuity of kamma and vipaka which
they represent, are the only claim he can make to any persistent
identity, not only through the different phases of this life but also
from one life to another.
Attentiveness with regard to body and mind serves to break down the
illusion of self; and not only that, it also cuts off craving and
attachment to external objects, so that ultimately there is neither the
“self” that craves nor any object of craving. It is a long and arduous
discipline, and one that can only be undertaken in retirement from the
world and its cares.
Yet even a temporary retirement, a temporary course of this
discipline, can bear good results in that it establishes an attitude of
mind which can be applied to some degree in the ordinary situations of
life. Detachment, objectivity, is an invaluable aid to clear thinking;
it enables a man to sum up a given situation without bias, personal or
otherwise, and to act in that situation with courage and discretion.
Another gift it bestows is that of concentration ? the ability to
focus the mind and keep it steadily fixed on a single point (ekaggata,
or one-pointedness), and this is the great secret of success in any
undertaking.
The mind is hard to tame; it roams here and there restlessly as the
wind, or like an untamed horse, but when it is fully under control, it
is the most powerful instrument in the whole universe. He who has
mastered his own mind is indeed master of the Three Worlds.
In the first place he is without fear. Fear arises because we
associate mind and body (nama-rupa) with “self”; consequently any harm
to either is considered to be harm done to oneself. But he who has
broken down this illusion by realizing that the five khandha process is
merely the manifestation of cause and effect, does not fear death or
misfortune.
He remains equable alike in success and failure, unaffected by praise
or blame. The only thing he fears is demeritorious action, because he
knows that no thing or person in the world can harm him except himself,
and as his detachment increases, he becomes less and less liable to
demeritorious deeds.
Unwholesome action comes of an unwholesome mind, and as the mind
becomes purified, healed of its disorders, bad kamma ceases to
accumulate. He comes to have a horror of wrong action and to take
greater and greater delight in those deeds that are rooted in alobha,
adosa, and amoha ? generosity, benevolence and wisdom.
Anapana Sati One of the most universally-applicable methods of
cultivating mental concentration is anapanasati, attentiveness on the
in-going and out-going breath. This, unlike the Yogic systems, does not
call for any interference with the normal breathing, the breath being
merely used as a point on which to fix the attention, at the tip of the
nostrils.
The attention must not wander, even to follow the breath, but must be
kept rigidly on the selected spot. In the initial stages it is advisable
to mark the respiration by counting, but as soon as it is possible to
keep the mind fixed without this artificial aid, it should be
discontinued and only used when it is necessary to recall the attention.
As the state of mental quiescence (samatha) is approached, the breath
appears to become fainter and fainter, until it is hardly discernible.
It is at this stage that certain psychic phenomena appear, which may at
first be disconcerting. A stage is reached when the actual bodily dukkha,
the sensation of arising and passing away of the physical elements in
the body, is felt.
This is experienced as a disturbance, but it must be remembered that
it is an agitation that is always present in the body but we are unaware
of it until the mind becomes stabilized. It is the first direct
experience of the dukkha (suffering) which is inherent in all phenomena
? the realization within oneself of the first of the Four Noble Truths,
Dukkha Ariya Sacca. When that is passed there follows the sensation of
piti, rapturous joy associated with the physical body.
The teacher of vipassana, however, is careful never to describe to
his pupil beforehand what he is likely to experience, for if he does so,
there is a strong possibility that the power of suggestion will produce
a false reaction, particularly in those cases where the pupil is very
suggestible and greatly under the influence of the teacher.
Devices in Meditation In kammattana, it is permissible to use certain
devices, such as the earth or color kasina, as focal points for the
attention. A candle flame, a hole in the wall, or some metal object can
also be used, and the method of using them is found in the Pali texts
and the Visuddhi-magga.
In the texts themselves it is to be noted that the Buddha gave
objects of meditation to disciples in accordance with their individual
characteristics, and his unerring knowledge of the right technique for
each came from his insight into their previous births.
Similarly with recursive meditation, a subject would be given which
was easily comprehensible to the pupil, or which served to counteract
some strong, unwholesome tendency in his nature. Thus, to one attracted
by sensual indulgence, the Buddha would recommend meditation on the
impurity of the body, or the “cemetery meditation.”
Here the object is to counterbalance attraction by repulsion, but it
is only a “skillful means” to reach the final state, in which attraction
and repulsion both cease to exist. In the arahant there is neither
liking nor disliking: he regards all things with perfect equanimity, as
did Thera Maha Moggallana when he accepted a handful of rice from a
leper.
Beads The use of the rosary in Buddhism is often misunderstood. If it
is used for the mechanical repetition of a set formula, the repeating of
so many phrases as an act of piety, as in other religions, its value is
negligible.
When it is used as means of holding the attention and purifying the
mind, however, it can be a great help. One of the best ways of employing
it, because it calls for undivided attention, is to repeat the Pali
formula of the qualities of Buddha, Dhamma and Sangha, beginning “Iti’pi
so Bhagava ? “ with the first bead, starting again with the second and
continuing to the next quality: “Iti’pi so Bhagava, Arahan ? “ and so on
until with the last bead the entire formula is repeated from beginning
to end.
This cannot be carried out successfully unless the mind is entirely
concentrated on what is being done. At the same time the recalling of
the noble qualities of Buddha, Dhamma and Sangha lifts the mind to a
lofty plane, since the words carry with them a meaning the impresses
itself on the pattern of the thought-moments as they arise and pass
away.
The value of this in terms of Abhidhamma psychology lies in the
wholesome nature of the cittakkhana, or “consciousness-moment” in its
uppada (arising), thiti (static) and bhanga (disappearing) phases. Each
of these wholesome cittakkhana contributes to the improvement of the
sankhara; or aggregate of tendencies; in other words, it directs the
subsequent thought-moments into a higher realm and tends to establish
the character on that level.
Samatha Bhavana Samatha bhavana, the development of mental
tranquillity with concentration, is accompanied by three benefits; it
gives happiness in the present life, a favorable rebirth, and the
freedom from mental defilements which is a prerequisite for attainment
of insight.
In samatha the mind becomes like a still, clear pool completely free
from disturbance and agitation, and ready to mirror on its surface the
nature of things as they really are, the aspect of them which is hidden
from ordinary knowledge by the restlessness of craving.
It is the peace and fulfillment which is depicted on the features of
the Buddha, investing his images with a significance that impresses even
those who have no knowledge of what it means. Such an image of the
Buddha can itself be a very suitable object of meditation, and is, in
fact, the one that most Buddhists instinctively use.
The very sight of the tranquil image can calm and pacify a mind
distraught with worldly hopes and fears. It is the certain and visible
assurance of Nibbana.
Vipassana Bhavana Vipassana bhavana is realization of the three signs
of being, anicca, dukkha, and anatta, by direct insight. These three
characteristics, impermanence, suffering and non-self, can be grasped
intellectually, as scientific and philosophical truth, but this is not
in itself sufficient to rid the mind of egoism and craving.
The final objective lies on a higher level of awareness, the direct
“intuitional” plane, where it is actually experienced as psychological
fact.
Until this personal confirmation is obtained, the sphere of sense
perception (ayatana) and sensory-responses remain stronger than the
intellectual conviction; the two function side by side on different
levels of consciousness, but it is usually the sphere dominated by
avijja which continues to determine the course of life by volitional
action.
The philosopher who fails to live according to his philosophy is the
most familiar example of this incompatibility between theory and
practice. When the direct perception is obtained, however, what was at
its highest intellectual level still merely a theory becomes actual
knowledge, in precisely the same way that we “know” when we are hot or
cold hungry or thirsty.
The mind that has attained it is established in the Dhamma, and
pa¤¤a, wisdom, has taken the place of delusion.
Discursive meditation, such as that practiced in Christian devotion,
is entirely on the mental level, and can be undertaken by anyone at any
time. It calls for no special preparation or conditions. For the more
advanced exercises of samatha and vipassana, however, the strictest
observance of sila, the basic moral rules, becomes necessary.
These techniques are best followed in seclusion, away from the
impurities of worldly life and under the guidance of an accomplished
master. Many people have done themselves psychic harm by embarking on
them without due care in this respect. It is not advisable for anyone to
experiment on his own; those who are unable to place themselves under a
trustworthy teacher will do best to confine themselves to discursive
meditation. It cannot take them to enlightenment but will benefit them
morally and prepare them for the next stage.
The Practice of Metta Bhavana Metta bhavana is the most universally
beneficial form of discursive meditation, and can be practiced in any
conditions. Thoughts of universal, undiscriminating benevolence, like
radio waves reaching out in all directions, sublimate the creative
energy of the mind.
With steady perseverance in metta bhavana a point can be reached at
which it becomes impossible even to harbor a thought of ill-will.
True peace can only come to the world through minds that are at
peace, If people everywhere in the world could be persuaded to devote
half an hour daily to the practice of metta bhavana, we should see more
real advance towards world peace and security than international
agreements will ever bring us.
It would be a good thing if, in this new era of the Buddha Sasana,
people of all creeds could be invited to take part in a world-wide
movement for the practice of metta bhavana and pledge themselves to live
in accordance with the highest tenets of their own religion, whatever it
may be.
In so doing they would be paying homage to the Supreme Buddha and to
their own particular religious teacher as well, for on this level all
the great religions of the world unite.
If there is a common denominator to be found among them, it is surely
here, in the teaching of universal loving-kindness which transcends
doctrinal differences and draws all being together by the power of a
timeless and all-embracing truth.
The classic formulation of metta as an attitude of mind to be
developed by meditation is found in the Karaniya Metta Sutta (Sutta
Nipata, Khuddaka-patha) [See appendix]. It is recommended that this
sutta be recited before beginning meditation, and again at its close, a
practice which is invariably followed in the Buddhist countries.
The verses of the sutta embody the highest concept to which the
thought of loving-kindness can reach, and it serves both as a means of
self-protection against unwholesome mental states and as a subject of
contemplation (kammatthana).
It is taught in Buddhism that the cultivation of benevolence must
begin with oneself. There is a profound psychological truth in this, for
no one who hates or despises himself consciously or unconsciously can
feel true loving-kindness for others.
To each of us the self is the nearest object; if one's attitude
towards oneself is not a wholesome one, the spring of love is poisoned
at its source. This does not mean that we should build up an idealized
picture of ourselves as an object of admiration, but that, while being
fully aware of our faults and deficiencies, we should not condemn but
resolve to improve ourselves and cherish confidence in our ability to do
so.
Metta bhavana, therefore, begins with the thought: "May I be free
from enmity; may I be free from ill-will; may I be rid of suffering; may
I be happy." This thought having been developed, the next stage is to
apply it in exactly the same form and to the same degree, to someone for
whom one has naturally a feeling of friendship.
In so doing, two points must be observed: the object should be a
living person, and should not be one of the opposite sex. The second
prohibition is to guard against the feeling of metta turning into its
"near enemy," sensuality. Those whose sensual leanings have a different
orientation must vary the rule to suit their own needs.
When the thought of metta has been developed towards a friend, the
next object should be someone towards whom one has no marked feelings of
like or dislike. Lastly, the thought of metta is to be turned towards
someone who is hostile.
It is here that difficulties arise. They are to be expected, and the
meditator must be prepared to meet and wrestle with them. To this end,
several techniques are described in the Visuddhimagga and elsewhere.
The first is to think of the hostile personality in terms of anatta ?
impersonality. The meditator is advised to analyze the hostile
personality into its impersonal components ? the body, the feelings, the
perceptions, the volitional formations and the consciousness.
The body, to begin with, consists of purely material items: hair of
the head, hair of the body, skin, nails, teeth and so on.
There can be no basis for enmity against these. The feelings,
perceptions, volitional formations and consciousness are all transitory
phenomena, interdependent, conditioned and bound up with suffering.
They are anicca, dukkha and anatta, impermanent, fraught with
suffering and void of selfhood. There is no more individual personality
in them than there is in the physical body itself. So towards them,
likewise, there can be no real ground for enmity.
If this approach should prove to be not altogether effective, there
are others in which emotionally counteractive states of mind are brought
into play, as for example regarding the hostile person with compassion.
The meditator should reflect: "As he (or she) is, so am I. As I am, so
is he.
We are both bound to the inexorable Wheel of Life by ignorance and
craving. Both of us are subject to the law of cause and effect, and
whatever evil we do, for that we must suffer. Why then should I blame or
call anyone my enemy? Rather should I purify my mind and wish that he
may do the same, so that both of us may be freed from suffering."
If this thought is dwelt upon and fully comprehended, feelings of
hostility will be cast out. When the thought of loving-kindness is
exactly the same, in quality and degree, for all these four objects ?
oneself, one's friend, the person toward whom one is neutral, and the
enemy ? the meditation has been successful.
The next stage is to widen and extend it. This process is a threefold
one: suffusing metta without limitation, suffusing it with limitation,
and suffusing it in all of the ten directions, east, west, north, south,
the intermediate points, above and below.
In suffusing metta without limitation (anodhiso-pharana), the
meditator thinks of the objects of loving-kindness under five heads: all
sentient beings; all things that have life; all beings that have come
into existence; all that have personality; all that have assumed
individual being.
For each of these groups separately he formulates the thought: "May
they be free from enmity; may they be free from enmity; may they be free
from ill will; may they be rid of suffering; may they be happy. For each
object he specifies the particular group which he is suffusing with
metta: "May all sentient beings be free from enmity, etc... May all
things that have life be free from enmity, etc."
This meditation embraces all without particular reference to
locality, and so is called "suffusing without limitation." In suffusing
metta with limitation (odhiso-pharana), there are seven groups which
form the objects of the meditation.
They are: all females; all males; all Noble Ones (those who have
attained any one of the states of Sainthood); all imperfect ones; all
Devas; all human beings; all beings in states of woe. Each of the groups
should be meditated upon as described above: "May all females be free
from enmity, etc." This method is called "suffusing metta with
limitation" because it defines the groups according to their nature and
condition.
Suffusing with metta all beings in the ten directions is carried out
in the same way. Directing his mind towards the east, the meditator
concentrates on the thought: "May all beings in the east be free from
enmity; may they be free from ill will; may they be rid of suffering;
may they be happy!" And so with the beings in the west, the north, the
south, the north-east, south-west, north-west, south-east, above and
below.
Lastly, each of the twelve groups belonging to the unlimited and
limited suffusions of metta can be dealt with separately for each of the
ten directions, using the appropriate formulas.
It is taught that each of these twenty-two modes of practicing metta
bhavana is capable of being developed up to the stage of a
appana-samadhi, that is, the concentration which leads to jhana, or
mental absorption. For this reason it is described as the method for
attaining release of the mind through metta (metta cetovimutti).
It is the first of the Four Brahma Viharas, the sublime states of
which the Karaniya Metta Sutta: "Brahmam etam viharam idhamahu" ? "Here
is declared the Highest Life." Metta, karuna, mudita, upekkha: [see
Nyanaponika Thera, The Four Sublime States, Wheel 6.] loving-kindness,
compassion, sympathetic joy and detachment, these four states of mind
represent the highest levels of mundane consciousness.
One who has attained to them and dwells in them is impervious to the
ills of life. Like a god he moves and acts in undisturbed serenity,
armored against the blows of fate and the uncertainty of worldly
conditions. And the first of them to be cultivated is metta, because it
is through boundless love that the mind gains its first taste of
liberation. |