Introduction
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. Sañña-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
colour 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 pañña, 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 though 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.
Appendix
Lovingkindness
as a Contemplation
Metta
Sutta
From
the Sutta Nipata, verses 143-52 (Spoken by the Buddha)
What
should be done by one skillful in good
So
as to gain the State of Peace is this:
Let
him be able, and upright, and straight.
Easy
to speak to, gentle, and not proud,
Contented,
too, supported easily.
With
few tasks, and living very lightly,
His
faculties serene, prudent, and modest,
Unswayed
by the emotions of the clans;
And
let him never do the slightest thing
That
other wise men might hold blamable.
(And
let him think:) "In safety and in bliss
May
creatures all be of a blissful heart.
Whatever
breathing beings there may be,
No
matter whether they are frail or firm,
With
none excepted, be they long or big
Or
middle sized, or be they short or small
Or
thick, as well as those seen or unseen,
Or
whether they are dwelling far or near,
Existing
or yet seeking to exist,
May
creatures all be of a blissful heart.
Let
no one work another one's undoing
Or
even slight him at all anywhere;
And
never let them wish each other ill
Through
provocation or resentful thought."
And
just as might a mother with her life
Protect
the son that was her only child,
So
let him then for every living thing
Maintain
unbounded consciousness in being,
And
let him too with love for all the world
Maintain
unbounded consciousness in being
Above,
below, and all round in between,
Untroubled,
with no enemy or foe.
And
while he stands or walks or while he sits
Or
while he lies down, free from drowsiness,
Let
him resolve upon this mindfulness
This
is Divine Abiding here, they say.
But
when he has no trafficking with views,
Is
virtuous, and has perfected seeing,
And
purges greed for sensual desires.
He
surely comes no more to any womb.
