III. The Foul: Tranquility Meditation

In other words, remove all befouling mental states from the mind. The things that befoul and darken the mind are the five hindrances:

– Kāma-chanda: sensual desires, taking pleasure in sensual objects (sights, sounds, smells, tastes, tactile sensations, ideas) and sensual moods (such as passion, aversion, and delusion).

– Byāpāda: ill will, malevolence, hatred.

– Thīna-middha: torpor, lethargy, drowsiness, listlessness.

– Uddhacca-kukkucca: restlessness and anxiety.

– Vicikicchā: doubt, uncertainty.

When any of these unskillful states occupy the heart, it’s not flourishing, blooming, or bright. For the heart to bloom, it has to be free from all five of the hindrances; and for it to be free in this way, we have to develop concentration or absorption (jhāna), which is composed of directed thought, evaluation, rapture, pleasure, and singleness of preoccupation (see below). The heart will then be clear, bright, and resplendent. In Pali, this is called sobhaṇa-citta. Thus, in this section we will discuss how to develop concentration as a means of eliminating the hindrances as follows:

A. ‘Among the forty themes, breath is supreme.’

Sit in a half-lotus position, your right leg on top of your left; your hands palm-up in your lap, your right hand on top of your left. Keep your body comfortably erect and your mind on what you’re doing. Don’t let your thoughts go spinning forward or back. Be intent on keeping track of the present: the present of the body, or the in-and-out breath; and the present of the mind, or mindfulness and all-round alertness. The present of the body and the present of the mind should be brought together at a single point. In other words, make the object of the mind single and one. Focus your attention on the breath, keeping watch over it until you’re clearly aware that, ‘This is the in-breath,’ and ‘This is the out.’ Once you can see clearly in this way, call to mind the virtues of the Buddha, Dhamma, and Saṅgha, gathering them into a single word, ‘Buddho.’ Then divide ‘Buddho’ into two syllables, thinking ‘bud-’ with the in-breath, and ‘dho’ with the out, at the same time counting your breaths: ‘Bud-’ in, ‘dho’ out, one; ‘bud-’ in, ‘dho’ out, two; ‘bud-’ in ‘dho’ out, three, and so on up to ten. Then start counting again from one to nine; then one to eight, one to seven… six… five… four… three… two… one… zero. In other words:

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

1 2 3 4 5 6 7

1 2 3 4 5 6

1 2 3 4 5

1 2 3 4

1 2 3

1 2

1

0

Keep three points – the breath, your mindfulness, and your awareness – together in a single stream. If when you’ve finished counting you find that your mind still won’t stay with the breath, start by counting again, from one to ten and so on to zero. Keep this up until you feel that your mind has settled down, and then stay with zero. In other words, you no longer have to count, you no longer have to think ‘Buddho.’ Simply keep careful watch over your breath and your awareness. Keep your awareness focused on a single point, mindful and watchful. Don’t send it in and out after the breath. When the breath comes in, you know. When it goes out, you know, but don’t make your awareness go in or out. Keep it neutral and still. Keep watch only on the present. When you can do this, the five hindrances won’t be able to find entry into the mind. This is called parikamma bhāvanā, repetition meditation.

At this point, the mind becomes light and can put aside its heavy burdens. When the mind is light, so is the body. In Pali this is called, kāya-lahutā, citta-lahutā. The mind is peaceful and solitary – free from agitation and unrest – clear and calm with the refined sense of the breath. When the mind reaches this state, it’s in the sphere of directed thought (vitakka), which is the first factor of jhāna.

Now survey and examine the characteristics of the breath. Try adjusting the breath in four different ways: Breathe in long and out long, and see whether your mind is at ease with that sort of breath. Then breathe in short and out short to see whether you feel comfortable and at ease that way. Then see whether you feel at ease breathing in long and out short, or in short and out long. Continue breathing in whichever of these four ways feels most comfortable and then let that comfortable breath spread throughout the different parts of the body. At the same time, expand your sense of mindful awareness along with the breath.

When the breath runs throughout the body, and the sensations of breath in the various parts of the body are coordinated, they can be put to use, for example, to relieve feelings of pain. Your sense of mindfulness at this point is broad; your alertness, fully developed. When mindfulness is spread throughout the body, this is called kāyagatāsati – mindfulness immersed in the body. Your frame of reference is large and expansive, and so is called ‘mahāsatipaṭṭhāna.’ Your alertness is present throughout, aware both of the causes – i.e., what you’re doing – and of the results coming from what you’ve done. All of these characteristics are aspects of evaluation (vicāra), the second factor of jhāna.

Now that the body and mind have received nourishment – in other words, now that the breath has provided for the body and mindfulness has provided for the mind – both body and mind are bound to reap results, i.e., rapture. The body is full and refreshed, free from restlessness. The mind is full and refreshed, free from anxiety and distraction, broad and blooming. This is called rapture (pīti), which is the third factor of jhāna.

Once fullness arises in this way, body and mind settle down and are still. In Pali this is termed ‘kāya-passaddhi, citta-passaddhi.’ This feeling of stillness leads to a sense of relaxation and ease for both body and mind, termed pleasure (sukha).

These are the beginning steps in dealing with the mind. Once you are able to follow them, you should make a point of practicing them repeatedly, back and forth, until you’re skilled at entering concentration, staying in place, and withdrawing. Even just this much can form a path along which the mind can then progress, for it has to some extent already reached the level of upacāra bhāvanā, threshold concentration.

B. Focal points for the mind

These include: (1) the tip of the nose; (2) the middle of the head; (3) the palate; (4) the base of the throat; (5) the tip of the breastbone; (6) the ‘center,’ two inches above the navel. In centering the breath at any of these points, people who tend to have headaches shouldn’t focus on any point above the base of the throat.

Coordinate the various aspects of breath in the body, such as the up-flowing breath, the down-flowing breath, the breath flowing in the stomach, the breath flowing in the intestines, the breath flowing along every part of the body, hot breath, cool breath, warm breath: Mesh these various sorts of breath so that they’re balanced, even, and just right, so as to give rise to a sense of ease and comfort throughout the body. The purpose of examining and coordinating the breath is to expand your sense of mindfulness and awareness so that they are sensitive throughout the entire body. This will then benefit both body and mind. The enlarged sense of the body is termed mahābhūta-rūpa; expanded awareness is termed mahaggataṁ cittaṁ. This sense of awareness will then go on to reap the benefits of its beauty that will arise in various ways, leading it to the level of appanā bhāvanā, fixed penetration.

The characteristics of the in-and-out breath, as they interact with the properties of the body, can cause the properties of water and earth to be affected as follows:

There are three types of blood in the human body –

1. Clear, white – arising from cool breathing.

2. Light red, dark red – arising from warm breathing.

3. Black, bluish black – arising from hot breathing.

These different types of blood, as they nourish the nerves in the body, can cause people to have different tendencies:

1. Hot breathing can make a person tend heavily toward being affectionate, easily attracted, and infatuated – tendencies that are associated with delusion.

2. Warm breathing can cause a person to have moderate tendencies as far as affection is concerned, but strong tendencies toward a quick and violent temper – tendencies associated with anger.

3. Cool breathing causes weak tendencies toward affection but strong tendencies toward greed, craving material objects more than anything else.

If we know clearly which physical properties are aggravating greed, anger, or delusion, we can destroy the corresponding properties and these states of mind will weaken on their own.

’Remove the fuel, and the fire won’t blaze.’

To adjust these properties skillfully gives rise to discernment, which lies at the essence of being skillful. Adjust the property of warmth so that the blood is clear and light red, and your discernment will be quick, your nerves healthy, your thinking perceptive, subtle, and deep. In other words, to make heavier use of the nerves in the physical heart is the way of the Dhamma. As for the nerves of the brain, to use them a great deal leads to restlessness, distraction, and heavy defilements.

These are just a few of the issues related to the breath. There are many, many more that people of discernment should discover on their own.

Nānā-dhātu-vijjā: knowledge of the subtleties of all 18 elements (dhātu), the 22 faculties (indrīya), the six sense media (āyatana); acute insight into the qualities of the mind; expertise in concentration. Concentration gives rise to liberating insight, acquaintance with the process of fabrication;

nibbidā – disenchantment;

virāga – dispassion;

nirodha – utter disbanding;

vimutti – a mind released from the mundane;

santi – peace of heart;

paramaṁ sukhaṁ – the ease that is ultimate bliss.

C. Images

These are of two sorts –

1. Uggaha nimitta: images as they are first perceived.

2. Paṭibhāga nimitta: adjusted images.

Images of either sort can appear at certain mental moments or with certain people. When the mind becomes still, uggaha nimittas can appear in either of two ways:

– from mental notes made in the past;

– on their own, without our ever having thought of the matter.

Uggaha nimittas of both sorts can be either beneficial or harmful, true or false, so we shouldn’t place complete trust in them. If we’re circumspect in our mindfulness and alertness, they can be beneficial. But if our powers of reference are weak or if we lack strength of mind, we’re likely to follow the drift of whatever images appear, sometimes losing our bearings to the point where we latch onto the images as being real.

Uggaha nimittas are of two sorts –

a. Sensation-images: e.g., seeing images of our own body, of other people, of animals, or of corpses; images of black, red, blue or white. Sometimes these images are true, sometimes not. Sometimes images arise by way of the ear – for example, we may hear the voice of a person talking. Sometimes they arise by way of the nose – we may smell fragrant scents or foul, like those of a corpse. Sometimes images are sensed by the body – the body may feel small or large, tall or short. All of these sensations are classed as uggaha nimittas. If the mind is strong and resilient, they can act as a means for the arising of liberating insight. If our powers of reference are weak, though, they can turn into corruptions of insight (vipassanūpakkilesa), in which we fall for the objects we experience, believing them to be true. Even when they’re true, things that are false can mingle in with them – like a man sitting under the open sky: When the sun shines, he’s bound to have a shadow. The man really exists, and the shadow is connected with him, but the shadow isn’t really the man. Thus, we’re taught to let go of what’s true and real; things that are untrue will then fall from our grasp as well.

b. Thought-images: When the breath is subtle and the mind is still and unoccupied, things can occur to it. Sometimes we may think of a question and then immediately know the answer. Sometimes we don’t even have to think: The knowledge pops into the mind on its own. Things of this sort are also classed as uggaha nimittas. Sometimes they may be true, sometimes false, sometimes mixed. You can’t trust them to be absolutely true. Sometimes they’re true, and that truth is what leads us to fall for them. For example, they may be true about three things and false about seven. Once we’ve placed our confidence in them, even the false things will appear true to us. This is one way of giving rise to the corruptions of insight.

So when sensation-images or thought-images arise in one way or another, you should then practice adjusting and analyzing them (paṭibhāga nimitta). In other words, when a visual image arises, if it’s large, make it small, far, near, large, small, appear, and disappear. Analyze it into its various parts and then let it go. Don’t let these images influence the mind. Instead, have the mind influence the images, as you will. If you aren’t able to do this, then don’t get involved with them. Disregard them and return to your original practice with the breath.

If a thought-image arises by way of the mind, stop, take your bearings, and consider exactly how much truth there is to the knowledge it gives. Even if it’s true, you shouldn’t latch onto what you know or see. If you latch onto your knowledge, it’ll become a corruption of insight. If you latch onto your views, they’ll become a form of attachment and conceit, in which you assume yourself to be this or that. Thus, you should let go of these things, in line with their true nature. If you aren’t wise to them, they can skew your practice so that you miss out on the highest good.

D. The Ten Corruptions of Insight

1. Obhāsa: a bright light that enables you to see places both far and near.

2. Ñāṇa: knowledge enabling you to know in an uncanny way things you never before knew, such as pubbenivāsānussati-ñāṇa, the ability to remember previous lifetimes. Even knowledge of this sort, though, can mislead you. If you learn good things about your past, you may get pleased. If you learn bad or undesirable things about your past, you may get displeased. Cutūpapāta-ñāṇa: Sometimes you may learn how people and other living beings die and are reborn – knowing, for instance, where they are reborn when they have died from this world – which can cause you to become engrossed in the various things you come to know and see. As you become more and more engrossed, false knowledge can step in, and yet you still assume it to be true.

3. Pīti: a sense of physical and mental fullness and satisfaction, full to the point of infatuation – physically satisfied to the point where you don’t feel hunger or thirst, heat or cold; mentally satisfied to the point where you become engrossed and oblivious, lazy and lethargic, perhaps deciding that you’ve already achieved the goal. What’s actually happened is that you’ve swallowed your mood down whole.

4. Passaddhi: The body is at peace and the mind serene, to the point where you don’t want to encounter anything in the world. You see the world as being unpeaceful and you don’t want to have anything to do with it. Actually, if the mind is really at peace, everything in the world will also be at peace. People who are addicted to a sense of peace won’t want to do any physical work or even think about anything, because they’re stuck on that sense of peace as a constant preoccupation.

5. Sukha: Once there’s peace, there’s a sense of physical and mental pleasure and ease; and once there’s a great deal of pleasure, you come to hate pain, seeing pleasure as something good and pain as something bad. Your view of things falls into two parts. Actually, pleasure doesn’t come from anywhere else but pain. Pain is the same thing as pleasure: When pleasure arises, pain is its shadow; when pain arises, pleasure is its shadow. As long as you don’t understand this, you give rise to a kind of defilement – again, you swallow your mood down whole. When a deep and arresting sense of relaxation, stillness, ease, or freedom from disturbance arises, you get engrossed in that feeling. What has happened is that you’re simply stuck on a pleasing mental state.

6. Adhimokkha: being disposed to believing that your knowledge and the things you know are true. Once ‘true’ takes a stance, ‘false’ is bound to enter the picture. True and false go together, i.e., they’re one and the same thing. For example, suppose we ask, ‘Is Nai Daeng at home?’ and someone answers, ‘No, he isn’t.’ If Nai Daeng really exists and he’s really at home, then when that person says, ‘He’s not at home,’ he’s lying. But if Nai Daeng doesn’t exist, that person can’t lie. Thus, true and false are one and the same…

7. Paggāha: excessive persistence, leading to restlessness. You’re simply fastened on your preoccupation and too strongly focused on your goal…

8. Upaṭṭhāna: being obsessed with a particular item you’ve come to know or see, refusing to let it go.

9. Upekkhā: indifference, not wanting to meet with anything, be aware of anything, think about anything, or figure anything out; assuming that you’ve let go completely. Actually, this is a misunderstanding of that very mental moment.

10. Nikanti: being content with your various preoccupations, simply attached to the things you experience or see.

All of these things, if we aren’t wise to them, can corrupt the heart. So, as meditators, we should attend to them and reflect on them until we understand them thoroughly. Only then will we be able to give rise to liberating insight, clear knowledge of the four truths:

1. Physical and mental stress, i.e., the things that burden the body or mind. Physical and mental pleasure and ease, though, are also classed as stress because they’re subject to change.

2. The factors that enable these forms of stress to arise are three –

a. Kāma-taṇhā: craving for attractive and appealing sights, sounds, smells, tastes, tactile sensations, and ideas; fastening onto these things, grabbing hold of them as belonging to the self. This is one factor that enables stress to arise. (The mind flashes out.)

b. Bhava-taṇhā: desire for things to be this way or that at times when they can’t be the way we want them; wanting things to be a certain way outside of the proper time or occasion. This is called ‘being hungry’ – like a person who hungers for food but has no food to eat and so acts in a way that shows, ‘I’m a person who wants to eat.’ Bhava-taṇhā is another factor that enables stress to arise. (The mind strays.)

c. Vibhava-taṇhā: not wanting things to be this way or that, e.g., having been born, not wanting to die; not wanting to be deprived of the worldly things we’ve acquired: for example, having status and wealth and yet not wanting our status and wealth to leave us. The truth of the matter is that there’s no way this change can be avoided. As soon as it comes, we thus feel stress and pain. (The mind flinches.)

Punappunaṁ pilitattā

saṅsarantā bhavābhave:

‘Repeated oppression,

wandering on

from one state of becoming to another.’

Different states of becoming arise first in the mind, then giving rise to birth. Thus, people of discernment let go of these things, causing:

3. Nirodha – cessation or disbanding – to appear in the heart. In other words, the mind discovers the limits of craving and lets it go through the practice of insight meditation, letting go of all fabrications, both good and bad. To be able to let go in this way, we have to develop:

4. Magga – the Path – so as to make it powerful. In other words, we have to give rise to pure discernment within our own minds so that we can know the truth. Stress is a truth; its cause is a truth; its cessation and the Path are truths: To know in this way is liberating insight. And then, when we let all four truths fall away from us so that we gain release from ‘true,’ that’s when we’ll reach deathlessness (amata-dhamma). Truths have their drawbacks in that untrue things are mixed in with them. Wherever real money exists, there’s bound to be counterfeit. Wherever there are rich people, there are bound to be thieves waiting to rob them. This is why release has to let go of truths before it can reach nibbāna.

Meditators, then, should acquaint themselves with the enemies of concentration, so as to keep their distance from all five of the hindrances, the two sorts of uggaha nimittas, and the ten corruptions of insight. The mind will then be able to gain release from all things defiling, dirty, and damp. What this means is that the mind doesn’t hold onto anything at all. It lets go of supposings, meanings, practice, and attainment. Above cause and beyond effect: That’s the aim of the Buddha’s teachings.

Those who want to get rid of kāma-taṇhā – desire and attraction for the six types of sensory objects – have to develop virtue that’s pure all the way to the heart: This is termed heightened virtue (adhisīla.) Those who are to get rid of bhava-taṇhā – thoughts that stray out, choosing objects to dwell on – first have to develop Right Concentration, pure and circumspect: This is termed heightened mind (adhicitta.) Those who are to get rid of vibhava-taṇhā – attachment to knowledge and viewpoints, attainments and states of becoming, theories and conceits – will first have to develop clear-seeing discernment, cognitive skill that’s pure and fully developed: This is heightened discernment (adhipaññā).

Thus, the threefold training – virtue, concentration, and discernment – is a group of truths that can let go of the causes of stress. Other than this, there’s no way to release.