Experiences in Meditation
Chris Kang
It was eight years ago, amid the material
comforts of city living and the demanding pressures of academic pursuits, that
I first encountered the gentle and profound teachings of the Buddha. At that
time a natural curiosity about the nature of the mind, and encounters with the
concepts of biology and theoretical physics, had awakened in me a healthy
appetite for intellectual nourishment. It is therefore not surprising that I
was immediately attracted to the philosophical and psychological genius of the
Buddha. What I at that time accepted intellectually of Buddhism led me, in due
course, to the practice of meditation, which is the central axis of Buddhist
spiritual life.
I began my meditation practice with mindfulness
of breathing (anapana-sati) and cultivation of loving-kindness (metta-bhavana),
two techniques widely practised by Theravada Buddhists in Sri Lanka, Thailand,
and Burma. As I had no teacher at the time, and consequently had to rely on a
small paperback manual on Buddhist meditation, my practice did not really take
off. It remained intermittent and rather unenthusiastic until some five years
ago, when I met my Buddhist teacher, the Venerable Shravasti Dhammika. He
became instrumental in launching me into serious and committed meditation
practice, practice that has continued to the present day.
The above preamble sets the background for this
account of my subjective experiences during some two years of practising
mindfulness of breathing and loving-kindness meditation. In the first
half-year, this comprised a daily average of fifteen minutes of mindfulness of
breathing followed by ten minutes of loving-kindness meditation. By the second
year, the daily average for the two types of meditation had increased to about
forty minutes and twenty minutes respectively. That second year also included
two semi-intensive retreats. The first retreat lasted four days, during which
the daily practice time totalled four and a half hours; the second was of three
days duration, with the daily practice time increased to six hours. This,
however, was not the whole of my meditative regime during the period in
question. I was also practising general mindfulness (satipatthana) as
far as possible when not engaged in formal mindfulness of breathing and
loving-kindness meditation. However, that mindfulness practice is not described
here.
The
Meditative Techniques
Mindfulness of breathing, or anapana-sati, is a
traditional Buddhist meditation technique aimed at purifying and unifying the
mind through sustained concentration on the breath during inhalation and
exhalation. Attention is fixed at the nostrils, at the point against which the
moving air strikes, because it is there that the entry and exit of breath can
be observed. No attempt is made to hold or stop the breath, or to deliberately
deepen or force it into a definite time rhythm. As Nyanaponika Thera states,
"The only task here is to follow the natural flow of the breath mindfully
and continuously, without a break or without unnoticed break." Any
thoughts that arise in the course of the meditation are merely noted, and
attention is gently returned to the point of observation. A major goal of the
practice is the attainment of states of deep unification called jhanas,
characterised by total immersion of the mind in its object and a progressive
elimination of thoughts and emotions.
Meditation on loving-kindness, or metta-bhavna,
is another traditional Buddhist meditation technique. It has the twofold aim of
(a) strengthening the quality of unbounded and universal loving-kindness within
the mind, and (b) attaining the first three jhanas. The practice begins with
sitting quietly with fully or half closed eyes and back erect, and arousing
within oneself the emotion of joy and kindness. One then silently wishes
"May I be well and happy," while suffusing oneself with kind and
loving emotions. This is followed by evoking the image of someone that one
respects or likes, and extending these emotions to him or her, while wishing,
"May you be well and happy." The same procedure is then used in turn
for a neutral person, a disliked person, and finally for all sentient beings.
It thus involves a gradual progression in the extension of loving-kindness,
from the individual to all living beings without exception, and in all
directions: in front, to the right, behind, to the left, below and above. The
commentarial advice given for beginners in this practice is not to extend
loving-kindness to someone of the opposite sex, as this might evoke emotions of
lust or attachment. A dead person who was dear to one is also an unsuitable
object, as this might arouse emotions of grief and sadness. It is stressed that
the first person to be suffused with loving-kindness should be oneself, since
self-acceptance forms the basis of any genuine acceptance of other beings.
The First
Four Months
I began meditating with fifteen minutes of mindfulness
of breathing each day. During the first few weeks of practice, I was
overwhelmed by the barrage of thoughts, images, emotions, and even sounds or
voices, that were constantly "swimming" in the mind. This was not
evident to me until I had to make repeated attempts to focus attention on a
single object (the breathing). I started to become aware of how unaware I had
always been of these ubiquitous mental states and contents. The constant flow
of images and inner sounds would so often occupy the entire field of
consciousness that it was extremely difficult to pay concentrated attention to
the breath. This led to a gradual build-up of frustration and doubt, which on
certain days grew almost unbearable. On such days I would abandon my fruitless
attempts to attend to the breath and instead engage in chanting traditional
praises to the Buddha, Dhamma and Sangha. This would often result in a certain
degree of upliftment and purity of mind that imparted a quiet tranquility to my
otherwise difficult practice.
Devotional practices, such as chanting and
symbolic offerings of light, flowers and incense, while not essential to
Buddhist practice, have often been found useful in calming and unifying the
mind -- a valuable preliminary to formal meditation practice. With persistent
effort, and a firm, affirming confidence in Dhamma, I was gradually able to
maintain concentration on the breath for increasingly longer periods without
unnoticed break. By the end of the fourth month of practice, I was able to
maintain concentration for twenty minutes at a time with comparative ease.
Each day, following my mindfulness of breathing,
I would proceed to the practice of loving-kindness meditation. This involved
extending loving thoughts and feelings to myself and others without undue
thinking and emotional involvement. My initial attempts brought the feeling
that the whole procedure was rather contrived and artificial. I had felt, at
the time, that the practice was not very different from the psychological
technique of auto-suggestion and therefore was suspect. Nevertheless, I decided
to temporarily suspend my scepticism and critical appraisal of the practice so
as to give it a fair trial.
Another difficulty I encountered in the course
of this practice was constant emotional involvement in the images I had evoked,
whether of a loved one or of a disliked one, often resulting in a whole train
of discursive thinking connected with the images. At such times I would forget
the aim of the practice and become completely immersed in my personal mental
melodramas. It usually took me some time to notice that I had wandered. This
recognition had the effect of automatically re-establishing the practice. By
the end of the first two months, I was feeling increasingly doubtful about the
value of this practice. The sense of its artificiality came to me with greater
intensity than before. I persisted nevertheless. By the fourth month of
practice, I found myself more able to stay with the practice without being
sidetracked. I also began to feel more natural and at ease with the procedure.
The First
Year
By this time in my breath-watching practice, the
flow of thoughts was no longer the main problem. Instead, the increased ability
to sustain attention elicited an intensifying boredom in the observation
process. The breath was by nature not at all interesting to watch, and I was
very quickly overcome by a dullness and drowsiness of mind. There came a point
when brief periods of awareness would be interrupted by longer periods of a
semi-consciousness, sleep-like state, during which the mind was totally
inattentive to the breath. The meditation sessions often resulted in a heavy,
uncomfortable pressure in the head that would subside whenever the mind was
aroused by some object or activity of great interest. This made me more aware
of the intimate link between the body and the mind, and of how profoundly
psychological states influence one's physical condition.
By the beginning of the seventh month of
practice, I was sitting in meditation for a total of forty-five minutes per
day: half an hour of mindfulness of breathing, followed by fifteen minutes of
loving-kindness meditation. Drowsiness continued to be a problem in observing
the breath, but never seemed to interfere with the practice of extending kind and
loving thoughts. This seemed to be because radiating loving-kindness to
mentally-evoked images aroused more interest than watching the breath at the
nostrils. It was not until the end of the seventh month of breathing practice
that I began to experience a relative freedom from drowsy episodes, except on
days when I was physically tried.
There were days when the benefits of meditation
practice became apparent to me, as the mind began to grow in calmness and
alertness. Such times were often characterized by a pliancy and lightness of
mind coupled with a seemingly effortless attention to the breathing process.
During these periods, I noted a sense of enthusiastic interest in the practice.
Whenever this mental quality was present, boredom and drowsiness would be
absent. With this noticing of the mutual exclusivity of incompatible mental
states, I felt I had realized a simple but significant and fundamental aspect
of the nature of the mind. On certain occasions, this enthusiastic interest in
Dhamma practice would manifest as an emotion of uplifting joy which would
pervade the whole upper body. Any thoughts that were still present seemed to
have lost much of their force and energy, such that they no longer had the
power to distract the focused attention.
Upon terminating the meditation session, I would
experience a deep sense of peace and relaxation, which would linger on
throughout the day, as long as activities were not too rushed or emotionally
intense. Also, such occasions would result in a spontaneous and expansive flow
of warm and kind feelings, which naturally led to a deep and genuine experience
of loving-kindness for all beings. On such days, and for a long time after
that, my earlier doubts about, and resistance to, loving-kindness practice
dissolved. I was finally able to touch a deep and loving part of my heart to a
degree I never thought possible. The gradual extension of loving-kindness from
myself to all beings resulted in a state of consciousness which, though brief,
was blissful, expansive, and non-limiting.
The Second
Year
In the second year of practice, I increased the
mindfulness of breathing to forty minutes daily and the loving-kindness
meditation to twenty minutes. It was also during this period that I did the two
semi-intensive retreats mentioned earlier. My ability to attend to the breath
without unnoticed break steadily improved, though it was still not without the
regressions into excessive discursive thinking, worries, fantasies, and
occasional bouts of drowsiness. I noticed that whenever the mind was immersed
in trains of thoughts, there was almost invariably some underlying emotional
state that seemed to be generating these thoughts: worry, fear, anticipation,
excitement, or (more subtly) a state of apathy or lack of interest (resulting
in thoughts as a means of distraction or entertainment). Generally, however,
there was improved concentration and a heightened capacity to be relaxed yet
alert and relatively tranquil in the course of my daily life.
In loving-kindness practice there was becoming
evident an increased ability to feel genuine and sincere acceptance of, even
warmth for, a disliked person. As I practised looking deeply at the image of
the disliked person in question, with a non-judgemental mind, and without
entering into unprofitable conceptual proliferation about her faults and
weaknesses, I found myself more able to appreciate her as another being who
shares in the universal ailments of greed, aversion, delusion, and hence
suffering. With this change in perspective came a corresponding decrease in
dislike and an increase in warm, positive feeling for the person. These
manifested in an improved and more harmonious relationship between us. It was
also becoming increasingly easy for me to extend deep feelings of love and acceptance
to myself, to those dear to me, and in fact to all beings. While it was
technically impossible to conceptualize each and every living being in the
universe, it remained possible for me to visualize as many beings as I could
recall (both human and non-human) and to relate similar feelings of warmth and
love to them without judging or discriminating.
One profound experience I had in the course of
this practice left a deep and lasting impression on me. On the occasion in
question, I sat and commenced with mindfulness of breathing as usual, which
left my mind with a sense of lightness and happiness. As I proceeded to wish
myself well and happy, a sudden gush of rapturous joy welled up within me in
the region of the middle chest, then spread and permeated my neck, face, head,
shoulders, hands, and even down to my lower abdomen. With this pervasive and
uplifting feeling came a momentary one-pointedness and an expansion of the
spatial boundaries of consciousness. In retrospect, I realised that in that
moment of oneness and expansion the mind was totally still with not a single
thought. However, slight trickles of thought soon re-emerged as the experience
of mental concentration and expansion gradually faded. These thoughts seemed to
move much more slowly than usual and lacked the power to disturb my
tranquillity. In such a state, I continued with the expansion of
loving-kindness to a dear one, a neutral person, a disliked person, and finally
to all beings, with a depth, authenticity, and naturalness that previous
sessions had lacked. I was left with an openness of heart and a sensitivity of
spirit that carried over into the next two days or so.
There were also three related experiences worth
mentioning here. The first was an ability to notice increasingly minute details
of the breathing process. I noticed that every inhalation ended with a short
pause, during which no movement of the breath occurred; then followed the
movement of exhalation, which ended in another short pause. This cycle repeated
itself with the commencement of the next inhalation. I also observed that even
the fleeting phenomenon of a single breath (one inhalation or exhalation) had
extension in time, a distinct beginning, middle, and end of movement. The
attention, however, was not equally keen and clear in all three phases, the
middle and end of each breath often being more distinct than the beginning. It
seemed to me that the reason for this was that breathing had been so much an
unconscious and involuntary process that I was normally unaware of its
existence, let alone of the distinct phases of the whole process. It was thus
to be expected that any attempt to observe the process keenly would result in
an intermittent awareness, which often arose somewhat more slowly than the
inhalation itself. The task was, therefore, to cultivate an evenly-applied
mindfulness that would sustain itself through all three phases of the
inhalation -- and indeed through the whole breathing cycle, incorporating the
pauses and and the three phases of each inhalation and exhalation. The
recognition that an evenly-applied mindfulness was my next task proved to be
another important insight into how the mind is to be focused -- an insight that
has greatly facilitated my concentration practice since then.
I therefore put an increased amount of energy
into watching clearly the distinct phases of both inhalation and exhalation
together with the pauses, with the aim of sustaining an even, continuous
attention throughout. With repeated effort, I finally succeeded in achieving this
for an extended period. Following this a new type of sensory experience became
apparent. I felt vivid tactile sensations, in the form of subtle rapid
vibrations, at the tip of each nostril and around the upper lip. These tactile
sensations became more distinct and concrete whenever mindfulness increased in
intensity and duration. At this stage, when strong continuous mindfulness was
present, the three phases of the breathing were no longer apparent, as they
seemed to have dissolved into a rapid succession of minute vibrations. The flow
of rapid vibrations occupied the whole field of consciousness, and there was a
deep one-pointedness and an immense vacuity of mind. For an instant, my whole
physical world would seem to have collapsed into oblivion, with a total loss of
bodily perceptions except for the concentrated awareness of rapid vibrations.
From this second experience, and apparently as a
direct consequence of it, there immediately followed the third experience.
Sustained application of attention to the vibratory sensations would gradually
lead to a point where the vibrations would suddenly disappear, leaving a
spacious ground of greatly expanded awareness that seemed to have no distinct
boundaries. It was as if the threshold of consciousness had been reached. This
altered state of consciousness was, however, very short-lived, lasting only for
a finger-snap. Its termination was followed by the preceding experience of
tactile vibrations. This profound experience occurred very rarely, and mostly
during the periods of retreat when the pressures and distractions of mundane
existence were largely absent. It would invariably result in a state of strong
mindfulness and mental clarity, heightened perceptual sensitivity and calmness,
which would then persist for hours or even days on end.
Critical
Appraisal
The above is a phenomenological account of my
experience with mindfulness of breathing and loving-kindness meditation. It is
of interest to compare this account with the Buddha's descriptions of
meditative experience as recorded in the Pali suttas.
The first jhana, the first stage in the process
of mental unification, is repeatedly described in the suttas as follows:
Being thus detached from sense desires, detached
from unwholesome states, he enters and remains in the first jhana, which is
with thinking, and pondering, born of detachment, filled with delight and joy.
[D.i, 73]
As mentioned earlier, there was a time during my
breath-watching practice when, in the absence of certain
"unwholesome" states (namely frustration, doubt, drowsiness,
excessive thinking) and the presence of enthusiasm and joy, the mind was
effortlessly attentive to the breathing process, pliant, and light.
"Thinking" and "pondering" were present but the thoughts
lacked the energy and power to distract the mind from its object of
concentration. This experience seems to correspond very closely to the Buddha's
description of first jhana.
In the Tevijja Sutta, the Buddha describes how
the noble disciple goes forth into the holy life, practises the moralities,
attains the first jhana (account similar to the one above), and then proceeds
to loving-kindness meditation:
Then, with his heart filled with
loving-kindness, he dwells suffusing one quarter, the second, the third, the
fourth. Thus he dwells suffusing the whole world, upwards, downwards, across,
everywhere, always with a heart filled with loving-kindness, abundant,
unbounded without hate or ill-will. [D.i, 250-251]
As mentioned before, when my loving-kindness
meditation was preceded by a pliancy and lightness of mind with relative
freedom from thoughts, spontaneous feelings of joy and warmth would arise from
within and lead to an almost effortless pervasion of the whole world with
loving-kindness. In that state, the mind was filled with a sense of delight and
openness. This experience seems to correspond to the Buddha's description just
quoted. More importantly, it lends credence to the idea of sequential
progression in meditative training: prior attainment of the first jhana greatly
facilitates successful practice of extending loving-kindness.
The sutta description of the second jhana is as
follows:
Again, a monk, with the subsiding of thinking
and pondering, by gaining inner tranquillity and oneness of mind, enters and
remains in the second jhana, which is without thinking and pondering, born of
concentration, filled with delight and joy. [D.i, 74]
In describing one profound experience I had in
the course of loving-kindness practice, I mentioned three specific mental
factors present, namely an uplifting joy permeating my body, mental
one-pointedness, and a momentary but total absence of thoughts. This experience
was, therefore, significantly similar to the Buddha's description of the second
jhana.
The sutta describe a further set of advanced
meditative attainments, namely the arupa or formless jhanas, four
distinct and progressively more subtle stages. The first arupa jhana is
described as follows:
By completely transcending all perception of
matter, by the vanishing of the perception of sense reactions, and by
non-attention to the perception of variety, realising: "Space is
infinite," one enters and abides in the Sphere of Infinite Space. [D.ii,
71]
I described above the experience of rapid subtle
vibrations that occupied the whole field of consciousness, with loss of body
sense and of perception of distinct breath phases. This bears a loose
similarity to the sutta account just quoted. The disappearance of body sense
and of distinct breath phases seems to correspond to the "vanishing of the
perception of sense reactions" and "non-attention to the perception
of variety." The sense of limitless expansion of the mind-space -- filled
completely by the perception of subtle vibrations -- and the apparent
disappearance of the breath and the physical world, further suggest that my
experience was of the first arupa jhana.
The second arupa jhana is described thus:
By transcending the Sphere of Infinite Space,
thinking: "Consciousness is infinite," one enters and abides in the
Sphere of Infinite Consciousness. [D.ii, 70]
This invites comparison with the third set of
experiences described earlier. The sudden disappearance of the vibrations,
accompanied by dissolution of the boundaries of consciousness and thus
attainment of a wider-encompassing awareness, can be seen as corresponding to
the characteristics of the second arupa jhana as just quoted.
Some Final
Thoughts
Diligent and sustained practice of mindfulness
of breathing and loving-kindness meditation is a fruitful and spiritually
fulfilling endeavour that results in an enhanced state of awareness and a
transformation of unwholesome mental patterns in one's daily life. The above
comparison indicates, furthermore, that the altered states of consciousness to
which these practices lead correspond closely to certain of the jhanas as
described in the Pali texts.
An important point to note is that the jhanas
are not permanent states which, once arisen, will remain unfluctuating.
Persistent diligent, and insightful practice is essential to the consolidation
of such positive mental states in one's meditation and life.
Personally, I find that these practices have
brought a deeper understanding of the following words of the well-known
meditation master, Sumedho Thera:
[The Buddhist texts] are not meant to be
"sacred scriptures" that tell us what to believe. One should read
them, listen to them, think about them, contemplate them, and investigate the
present reality, the present experience with them. Then, and only then, can one
insightfully know the truth beyond words.
***
[Originally published in The Meditative Way:
Readings in the theory and practice of Buddhist meditation, edited by Rod
Bucknell and Chris Kang (Richmond: Curzon, 1997).]