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by Luang Por Poot
The Path of Buddhism
Venerable ones with hearts of virtue, today I feel that it must be due to
the pirami and merit I've accumulated in the past that I'm fortunate
enough to have the opportunity to visit you, people so firmly committed to
practising Dhamma in the right way. The fact that all of you had so much
faith in Buddism that you gave up everything in order to ordain as
monastics is worthy of the highest praise. There's nothing I have to offer
you other than some encouragement and a few well considered reflections
concerning the correct way to practice.
The religion of Buddism is the religion of nature. He studied nature and
its laws. After the Buddha-to-be (Bodhisatta) had trained with and
mastered the teachings of the most notable sages of that era, and after he
had embarked on and rejected the path of extreme asceticism, he reflected
on a childhood incident. While his father was engaged in the royal plowing
ceremony, the Bodhisatta sat in the shade of a tree. Relying on the
abilities developed in his long quest to become a Buddha, he focused on
his breathing and was able to enter the first jhana, the meditative state
with initial and sustained application of mind (vitakka and vicara), bliss
(piti), happiness (sukha) and one pointed unity (ekaggata). He then
understood what effort was needed to realize the true Enlightenment of a
Buddha: one must study nature and understand the laws of nature.
It is the nature of our bodies to breathe. Whether we intend it to or not,
this process continues on by itself, both while sleeping and being awake.
Contemplating this, the Bodhisatta then relied upon the breath as his
focus of awareness, mindfully knowing each inhalation and exhalation. His
heart (citta) calmed, experiencing the peace of samadhi. The breathing
then became progressively more subtle until, in letting go of focusing
attention on the breath, his heart became still, bright, aware, awake and
radiant. Remaining were piti, sukha and oneness, the quality of knowing in
the heart. When the heart calmed to an even more peaceful state, piti—the
lightness and deep peace of both body and mind—disappeared from the
Bodhisatta's perception. piti was let go of. Sukha was then let go of, and
he entered the state with only the one-pointed unity of ekaggata
remaining. The heart unified in the state of oneness called appana samadhi,
characterized by simply being able to know that during that time there was
only the heart, the citta alone: absolutely still, clear, bright, aware,
awake and radiant. The body had completely vanished from the field of
awareness.
In this state there is just the awareness of the pure citta and nothing
else. The heart's quality of knowing is focused solely on the heart.
Awareness of other things does not arise. The feeling of having a body
disappears. There's no body. There's no thing. There's only the heart:
still, bright, aware, awake and radiant. It's as if in the entirety of
space there exists only our radiant citta. It's here that the heart enters
appana samadhi. This state is also known as appanเ citta, appanเ jhana or
the fourth jhana.
This is the path walked by the heart of a meditator. However one chooses
to practice—using the mantra 'Buddho' or 'Samma Arahan,' being aware of
the rising and falling of the abdomen (the 'Mahasi' technique from
Myanmar) or focusing attention on the breathing--when the heart becomes so
peaceful that it enters samadhi, the experience is one and the same. It
has to proceed this way. If someone reaches the stage of samadhi where the
body has disappeared, samadhi characterized by vitakka, vicara, piti,
sukha and ekaggata, the citta is then able to advance to the realm of
vipassana. This is a point where we as meditators need to understand each
other.
When the heart calms to a subtle level of samadhi with a subtle object of
awareness, the heart is aware only of the heart. Awareness of anything
else does not arise. But when the heart withdraws from samadhi, it seems
as if the body appears. At this point the meditator shouldn't hurry to get
up from the place where he or she is sitting. Remain still, focus on and
know your heart.
If there's no thinking, no insight, only stillness and equanimity, then
simply allow the citta to remain still. If there are thoughts arising,
then allow the citta to think, but make sure you mindfully follow and are
aware of each mind-moment as it thinks. At this point no matter what
you're thinking about or what direction the thoughts are leading--be it
good, bad, wholesome or unwholesome--just allow it to think. It's
essential however, that mindfulness follows each moment with focused
awareness, until the thinking ceases and the citta once again enters the
peace of samadhi. Practice like this. Most meditators however, have the
misunderstanding that once one emerges from samadhi, if thoughts arise one
should try to prevent them, try to not think at all. Actually this isn't
how one should practice. Because a thought is an object of the heart's
awareness, when it arises by itself and is followed by mindfulness, the
heart will return to the deep peace of samadhi that it had previously
experienced.
This is the first step in developing samadhi: when a meditator, through
relying on whatever technique, is able to attain this peace of
mind--whether it be kha๕ika samadhi (where the heart unifies briefly
without depth or stability), upacara samadhi (where the heart is
unwaveringly serene but is still able to receive external sense input) or
appana samadhi. Whenever one attains to one of these levels, if one can do
it often, honing it until proficient, until an expert, able to enter
samadhi any moment one wishes, this is even better. If in this beginning
stage insights of various kinds aren't arising, don't worry about it. Just
work on developing peace of mind. When the heart is at peace with
increasing frequency, the insights on the path of vipassana meditation
will begin to arise as a matter of course.
If anyone experiences such peace of mind, notice that upon getting up from
meditation, whatever you do: stand, walk, sit, lie down, eat, drink, act,
speak or think--it will feel like there is continually vigilant
mindfulness. This focusing of the heart's awareness during every activity,
in every posture, indicates that the heart is beginning to become
composed. Restraint and composure is one aspect of sใla. It leads to
actions and speech becoming naturally refined and serene. The heart with
mindfulness and clear comprehension (sati-sampajanna), aware of everything
that's happening around one, well established and composed, consequently
lets go into its natural state as well. The heart with sใla, samadhi,
mindfulness and clear comprehension during every moment of standing,
walking, sitting, lying down, sleeping, eating, drinking, acting, speaking
and thinking, will be continually aware and keep pace with the flow of
causes and conditions. At this point wisdom (panna) begins to arise.
The heart with mindfulness and clear comprehension, with continuous,
sharply focused awareness, becomes increasingly energized and firmly
determined. This heart inclines toward the path of right practice and
eventually becomes permeated with the flavor of Dhamma, by the words of
the Buddha. Being mindful, restrained and careful is what we refer to in
our chanting as ‘supatipanno (those who practise the good way),
ujupatipanno (those who practise the straight way), ¥ayapatipanno (those
who practise the true way), Samใcipatipanno (those who practise the proper
way).’ One becomes a true disciple of the Buddha's Buddism.
Having a focused awareness in all activities is to have sincere concern
for oneself. It is paying attention to oneself, comprehending oneself, and
it leads to the mindful wisdom of knowing oneself. You understand now what
is meant by 'oneself,' what one's responsibility is, and what is lacking
or excessive in one's behavior. We can then cut out what is excessive and
increase what is lacking, so that all is balanced in just the right
proportions: the Middle Way.
In the case of someone who has samadhi but their heart doesn't proceed to
analyze or investigate, the Krooba Ajahns of our tradition have a method
for waking up the heart, for stimulating the arising of wisdom (panna):
contemplation of the body (kayagatasati). As we chant, "This which is my
body, from the soles of the feet up, and down from the crown of the head,
entirely wrapped with a layer of skin, is a collection of unattractive
things." Then continue on to analyze the body in terms of its component
parts.
There are two ways you can go about this. The first is to contemplate one
by one each of the traditional 32 parts of the body, beginning with the
hair on one's head. The other is to focus one's attention in the chest
area and mentally peal off the body's skin. Then peal off the muscles and
flesh. Next, bring up the perception of one's bones. Repeat the process,
backwards and forwards, over and over, until the heart is convinced that
there are bones in there. Then focus and hold the attention on the mantra
'bone, bone, bone' ('atthi, atthi, atthi') until the heart settles down
into the peace of samadhi.
A mental image (nimitta) of a skeleton will then arise in the chest area,
or all the bones in one's body will become visible (with the mind's eye.)
We call this 'bone contemplation.' Once you're able to see your skeleton,
stabilize the image by keeping your attention on it. Do it often. If the
skeleton is still and stable, without change, this is called gaining the
uggaha nimitta. From this point shrink the skeletal image or enlarge it.
Crush it down into powder until it mixes with and disappears into the
dirt. This stage of the meditation is referred to as the arising of the
patibhaga nimitta.
When this image of a skeleton is still, stable and without change, this is
samatha meditation. When the skeleton is manipulated, broken down, crushed
into powder and disintegrates, the heart has then entered the realm of
vipassana. If we cannot develop the levels of samadhi I've previously
mentioned, how will we ever be able to practice vipassana?
The wise one, the mindful meditator, is clearly aware of each state of
happiness (sukha) or unhappiness (dukkha) as it arises, and wisdom
understands both as the Noble Truth of Suffering (dukkha). This was the
Truth unveiled by the Buddha that led to his Enlightenment. A heart with
mindfulness, clear comprehension, wisdom and awareness knows that there's
nothing but dukkha that arises, nothing but dukkha that ceases. Only
dukkha arises. Only dukkha ceases. In the end we know in our hearts that
whatever is of the nature to arise is of the nature to pass away..., just
like Anna Kondanna while listening to the Buddha expound the
Dhammacakkappavattana Sutta, when his eyes opened and he saw the Dhamma:
'All that arises is subject to passing away.' Knowing and seeing this
means understanding Dhamma on a refined level: one attains sotapanna, the
first level of Enlightenment in Buddism. I've said enough for now.
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