Showing posts with label meditation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label meditation. Show all posts

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Why Meditation Feels Like Shitting Razorblades... At First

From Mindfulness in Plain English by Henepola Gunaratana:

Meditation is a tough job. It is an inherently solitary activity. One person battles against enormously powerful forces, part of the very structure of the mind doing the meditating. When you really get into it, you will eventually find yourself confronted with a shocking realization. One day you will look inside and realize the full enormity of what you are actually up against. What you are struggling to pierce looks like a solid wall so tightly knit that not a single ray of light shines through. You find yourself sitting there, staring at this edifice and you say to yourself, "That? I am supposed to get past that? But it's impossible! That is all there is. That is the whole world. That is what everything means, and that is what I use to define myself and to understand everything around me, and if I take that away the whole world will fall apart and I will die. I cannot get through that. I just can't."
 And then you barely notice that a ray of light is hitting you directly in the chest. And you wonder, was the wall ever there?

Read Mindfulness in Plain English here:
http://www.urbandharma.org/udharma4/mpe.html

Saturday, July 17, 2010

I can has peace of mind?

Breathe gently. Look within. Let what is both empty and full devour you like a human hot dog.

Saturday, July 11, 2009

The Breath of Life

By Dennis Lewis

The first step in healthy breathing is to become conscious of how we actually breathe. From the perspective of the world's great spiritual traditions, our breath not only brings needed oxygen and other gases to the physical body, but it can also bring, when we are conscious of it, the finer energies (prana, chi, and so on) needed to help nourish our higher bodies--the subtle body, causal body, and so on. Whatever we may believe about our soul and spirit, our breath, and how we breathe, is intimately connected with all aspects of our being.

In today's noisy, high-stress world, many of us sit, stand, sleep, speak, act, and move in ways that undermine our breathing and our physical, emotional, and spiritual health. When we look at ourselves in action, when we actually sense and observe ourselves honestly for a moment, we see that we carry enormous amounts of unnecessary tension throughout our bodies. We may sense it in our hands, face, eyes, jaw, tongue, throat, belly, back, chest, and so on (even tension in our feet can undermine our breathing). These tensions can and often do impede the natural, harmonious movement of the diaphragm and its coordination with the secondary breathing muscles. They also impede the harmonious flow of the breath of life through our body/mind.

We can do all the breathing exercises in the world, but if we don't begin to see and free ourselves from the unnecessary tensions that we carry day in and day out--if we are unable to find a state of dynamic relaxation in the midst of daily living--these exercises won't do much good. In fact, without such relaxation and without real self-knowledge and self-awareness, breathing exercises can often exacerbate the tensions already present and create dangerous biochemical and physiological imbalances in our body/mind.

In beginning to study these unnecessary tensions in ourselves, which are generated in large part by our mostly unconscious attitudes toward ourselves and others, one of the most useful situations with which to begin is when we find ourselves in a hurry, which, for many of us, is almost all the time. Next time you catch yourself rushing through your life on the way some place other than where you are right now (and this can be a mental or emotional "rushing" as well as a physical one), sense your entire body and pay particular attention to your breathing. What does your breath feel like? Does it feel open and spacious? Most likely it feels small and cramped. Ask yourself if this is really how you want to live your life, always tensing toward something to be done or enjoyed (or something you believe will be better) in the future. Yes, the future is important and we all have plenty to do on its behalf, but what's the point of all this "doing" if we don't actually feel and appreciate the pure miracle of our aliveness, our being, right here and now? What's the point of all of this activity if we are not open enough to receive and appreciate the life force flowing through us and others and the rich scale of impressions and perceptions that come with it?

It is only through a constant deep-felt appreciation of the value and miracle of being itself that our lives will take on real meaning, that our relationships with others will become imbued with intelligence and compassion, and that we will find effective solutions to the ever-growing problems we face. If we are constantly filled with unnecessary tension based on judgments about the past and expectations about the future, our breath will remain cramped and disharmonious, we will never discover what it means to be truly human, and our lives on this planet will only get worse no matter what brilliant strategies we devise or how much force and aggression we use to put them into action.

To see and release the unnecessary tensions that fill our lives, and to allow the breath of life to manifest fully through us and others, begins with sensing and observing ourselves at this very moment, paying special attention to the tensions that propel us through time, as well as the inner attitudes that fuel them. It begins with being present to "what is," without any self-deception. This is the beginning of real transformation, both for ourselves personally and for the world. And it all begins with awareness of the breath.
Safe, Powerful Breathing Exercise

One of the safest and most powerful breathing practices or exercises you can undertake is to consciously follow your breathing in the many changing circumstances of your life. As you inhale, simply be aware that you are inhaling. As you exhale, simply be aware that you are exhaling. Try this exercise for 10 minutes or so at a time at least three times a day. It will help free you from your automatic thoughts and emotional reactions and thus enable you to live with more receptivity and clarity in the present moment. You may find this exercise especially useful at moments when you are anxious or angry. With roots in Buddhism and the other great spiritual traditions, this is a wonderful practice for both beginners and advanced practitioners.

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

The Reality of Enso

Source: http://www.defmacro.org/ramblings/enso.html

The Reality of Enso

Tuesday, December 9, 2008

At 6:30am, at the gentle sound of the Burmese gong, I emerged from a deep state of absorption to find myself in the meditation hall of the Chuang Yen Monastery in upstate New York, surrounded by twenty shuffling men. I hadn't twitched a muscle for one hour and hadn't eaten since noon of the previous day, but neither stretching nor hunger were on my mind. I was aware of one and one thought only, which instantaneously pierced the very core of my being: everything I had read about the Japanese Enso symbol was real.

I do not mean "real" in a handwavy philosophical sense, with a lingering shadow of a doubt that it could be just nonsensical "Eastern mumbo-jumbo". I use the word "real" in a very physical sense, in the same way one would use it to describe a chair, or the beating of one's heart, or the fall of the Berlin Wall.

I saw it with an unprecedented clarity of mind. Occasionally, I had approached similar clarity in the Russian baths when I jumped from a hundred and fifty degree sauna into a pool of ice cold water. The heated body, forced to deal with a tremendous temperature gradient, violently contracts the blood vessels to preserve heat, ridding the mind of every last thought in the process. The baths, the sauna, the pool, life's trials and tribulations, victories and defeats, are momentarily eradicated from consciousness along with the everpresent notion of self, leaving for only a few precious moments the magnificent clarity of pristine awareness.

But the clarity of mind induced by the ancient ritual of Russian baths disappears as quickly as it appears. For an untrained mind it is clarity without insight - a mere glimpse of a glimpse of freedom that is possible to achieve. It was only with the slow, painstaking effort of meditation that my mind was able to relax long enough to see for just a few brief moments the reality of Enso and the remarkable beauty and harmony it symbolizes.

Making a pilgrimage from the comfortable Western life of fast food and flat screen TVs to the raw asceticism of a Buddhist monastery to see Enso is not unlike going on vacation from the urban jungle of an inner American city to a picturesque European village. Initially, returning to the previous way of life seems like a personal sacrifice, but after a short while the routine takes over and the memory of what could have been dims. In the same way, momentarily seeing Enso is only intellectual sightseeing. Being one with what it symbolizes every moment of one's life requires a far greater effort than moving from the New World to the Old, in exchange for a far greater reward. I would trade any material fortune to have that clarity always with me, if only because I now know that the purity of mind it affords would allow me to rebuild this fortune effortlessly. I say this because for the contemporary mind this prospect is far more attractive than the real gift - that one who has purity of mind needs no fortunes.

So far I've been using the familiar possessive verbs when talking about attainment of clarity, but in reality it is not a process of acquiring but the process of letting go. It is about letting go of the idea that following one's breath for an hour is a stupid practice, letting go of the feelings of discomfort from sitting on the floor, letting go of the tenseness of the large muscles on one's back and the tiny muscles on one's skull and face. It is about letting go of the desire to move, just a little bit, just this once, and of the overwhelming desire to get up and do something, anything, anything to avoid sitting quietly with one's own thoughts. It is about letting go of furious anger directed at the creaking door that keeps stealing one's attention, letting go of a dozen itches that inevitably arise all over the body, and letting go of the desire to laugh because of the absurdity of the situation.

Then follows letting go of the racing thoughts about everything but the breath - thoughts about hunger, and what's for lunch, and how you haven't had lunch with some friend for a while, and what gift you'll get him for his birthday. It's about letting go of the expectation that you could follow your breath for a little longer than you could before, and letting go of the worrying that your mind is filled with so much trash. It's about letting go of planning, and remembering, and randomly arising sexual images, and the archetypal fantasies of saving beautiful women from dire situations in order to win everyone's admiration, and fears that one day your parents will pass away, leaving you in the world completely alone. It is about letting go of everything and just following the breath, the beautiful, radiant, subtle, magnificent breath amidst infinite emptiness, admiring its gentle tides... only to hear the gong and open one's eyes, and remember that you are you, sitting on the floor in a room among other people, and that you're hungry, and noticing that your leg fell asleep, and realizing that you have a million neuroses that you were able to briefly let go of by the magic of following the instructions left by some ancient sages.

It is then that you realize that your neuroses, and thoughts, and worries, and expectations, and projections, and addictions creep into everything you do, from intimate relationships, to casual conversations, to writing essays, to building software, to sweeping the floor. And you know that if you could free yourself permanently from restlessness, and dullness, and anger, and lust, and fears, and doubt, just like you did for a few precious minutes just now, in a twitch of a finger you could amass fortunes, or change the world, or paint a perfect Enso, or... you could just be content with listening to your own breath.

Monday, May 18, 2009

Meditation Increases Brain Gray Matter

Source: http://www.physorg.com/news161355537.html

Push-ups, crunches, gyms, personal trainers -- people have many strategies for building bigger muscles and stronger bones. But what can one do to build a bigger brain? Meditate.

That's the finding from a group of researchers at UCLA who used high-resolution magnetic resonance imaging (MRI) to scan the brains of people who meditate. In a study published in the journal NeuroImage and currently available online (by subscription), the researchers report that certain regions in the brains of long-term meditators were larger than in a similar control group.

Specifically, meditators showed significantly larger volumes of the and areas within the orbito-frontal cortex, the thalamus and the inferior temporal gyrus — all regions known for regulating emotions.

"We know that people who consistently meditate have a singular ability to cultivate positive emotions, retain emotional stability and engage in mindful behavior," said Eileen Luders, lead author and a postdoctoral research fellow at the UCLA Laboratory of Neuro Imaging. "The observed differences in anatomy might give us a clue why meditators have these exceptional abilities."

Research has confirmed the beneficial aspects of . In addition to having better focus and control over their emotions, many people who meditate regularly have reduced levels of and bolstered immune systems. But less is known about the link between meditation and brain structure.

In the study, Luders and her colleagues examined 44 people — 22 control subjects and 22 who had practiced various forms of meditation, including Zazen, Samatha and Vipassana, among others. The amount of time they had practiced ranged from five to 46 years, with an average of 24 years.

More than half of all the meditators said that deep concentration was an essential part of their practice, and most meditated between 10 and 90 minutes every day.

The researchers used a high-resolution, three-dimensional form of MRI and two different approaches to measure differences in brain structure. One approach automatically divides the brain into several regions of interest, allowing researchers to compare the size of certain brain structures. The other segments the brain into different tissue types, allowing researchers to compare the amount of within specific regions of the brain.

The researchers found significantly larger cerebral measurements in meditators compared with controls, including larger volumes of the right hippocampus and increased gray matter in the right orbito-frontal cortex, the right thalamus and the left inferior temporal lobe. There were no regions where controls had significantly larger volumes or more gray matter than meditators.

Because these areas of the brain are closely linked to emotion, Luders said, "these might be the neuronal underpinnings that give meditators' the outstanding ability to regulate their emotions and allow for well-adjusted responses to whatever life throws their way."

What's not known, she said, and will require further study, are what the specific correlates are on a microscopic level — that is, whether it's an increased number of neurons, the larger size of the neurons or a particular "wiring" pattern meditators may develop that other people don't.

Because this was not a longitudinal study — which would have tracked meditators from the time they began meditating onward — it's possible that the meditators already had more regional gray matter and volume in specific areas; that may have attracted them to meditation in the first place, Luders said.

However, she also noted that numerous previous studies have pointed to the brain's remarkable plasticity and how environmental enrichment has been shown to change .

Source: University of California - Los Angeles

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Anuloma Pranayama

There are several definitions for Pranayama, the 4th of eight limbs of Raja Yoga, but the simplest and most useful for our purpose here is "control of the life force." To control this life force, we first control the breath, which in turn controls the mind. It is in part common sense for us, as when someone is overwhelmed by stress and can not think clearly we tell them take deep breaths to help them focus. There is also a science behind this, both in modern western and yogic terms.

For years now I've enjoyed Pranayama on a mostly daily basis. It once helped me to quit smoking, possibly forming a new neural imprint upon what was an oral fixation. It has at times been my preparation for meditation, and at others, it has been the meditation itself. If you can find the right method, you may feel a sense of harmony reaching down to the subtlest vibrations of being, and in time you cultivate balance and peace of all faculties. There are many methods, but here I will share only my favorite, which you will find in a link at the end of this blog.

"Expansion of individual energy into cosmic energy is called prāṇāyāma (prāṇa, energy + ayām, expansion)." -Ramamurti Mishra

"Prana is a subtle invisible force. It is the life-force that pervades the body. It is the factor that connects the body and the mind, because it is connected on one side with the body and on the other side with the mind. It is the connecting link between the body and the mind. The body and the mind have no direct connection. They are connected through Prana only and this Prana is different from the breathing you have in your physical body." -Swami Chidananda Saraswati

"Yoga works primarily with the energy in the body, through the science of pranayama, or energy-control. Prana means also ‘breath.’ Yoga teaches how, through breath-control, to still the mind and attain higher states of awareness. The higher teachings of yoga take one beyond techniques, and show the yogi, or yoga practitioner, how to direct his concentration in such a way as not only to harmonize human with divine consciousness, but to merge his consciousness in the Infinite." -Paramahansa Yogananda

Medical claims, according to Wikipedia:

"Several researchers have reported that pranayama techniques are beneficial in treating a range of stress related disorders, improving autonomic functions, relieving symptoms of asthma, and reducing signs of oxidative stress. Practitioners report that the practice of pranayama develops a steady mind, strong will-power, and sound judgement, and also claim that sustained pranayama practice extends life and enhances perception."

Further Explanation and instructions found here: http://www.abc-of-yoga.com/pranayama/basic/viloma.asp

Love,
Rev. MoonPie

Instructions to Insight Meditation

The following is taken from http://www.yellowrobe.com/practice/meditation/250-instructions-to-insight-meditation.html



Instructions to Insight Meditation

by Venerable Mahasi Sayadaw

(The following is a talk by the Ven. Mahasi Sayadaw Agga Maha Pandita U Sobhana given to his disciples on their induction into Vipassana Meditation at Sasana Yeiktha Meditation Centre, Rangoon, Burma. It was translated from the Burmese by U Nyi Nyi )

The practice of Vipassana or Insight Meditation is the effort made by the meditator to understand correctly the nature of the psycho-physical phenomena taking place in his own body. Physical phenomena are the things or objects which one clearly perceives around one. The whole of one's body that one clearly perceives constitutes a group of material qualities (rupa). Psychical or mental phenomena are acts of consciousness or awareness (nama). These (nama-rupas) are clearly perceived to be happening whenever they are seen, heard, smelt, tasted, touched, or thought of. We must make ourselves aware of them by observing them and noting thus: `Seeing, seeing', `hearing, hearing', `smelling smelling', `tasting, tasting', `touching, touching', or `thinking, thinking.' Every time one sees, hears, smells, tastes, touches, or thinks, one should make a note of the fact. But in the beginning of one's practice, one cannot make a note of every one of these happenings. One should, therefore, begin with noting those happenings which are conspicuous and easily perceivable.

With every act of breathing, the abdomen rises and falls, which movement is always evident. This is the material quality known as vayodhatu (the element of motion). One should begin by noting this movement, which may be done by the mind intently observing the abdomen. You will find the abdomen rising when you breathe in, and falling when you breathe out. The rising should be noted mentally as `rising', and the falling as `falling'. If the movement is not evident by just noting it mentally, keep touching the abdomen with the palm of your hand. Do not alter the manner of your breathing. Neither slow it down, nor make it faster. Do not breathe too vigorously, either. You will tire if you change the manner of your breathing. Breathe steadily as usual and note the rising and falling of the abdomen as they occur. Note it mentally, not verbally.

In vipassana meditation, what you name or say doesn't matter. What really matters is to know or perceive. While noting the rising of the abdomen, do so from the beginning to the end of the movement just as if you are seeing it with your eyes. Do the same with the falling movement. Note the rising movement in such a way that your awareness of it is concurrent with the movement itself. The movement and the mental awareness of it should coincide in the same way as a stone thrown hits the target. Similarly with the failing movement.

Your mind may wander elsewhere while you are noting the abdominal movement. This must also be noted by mentally saying `wandering, wandering.' When this has been noted once or twice, the mind stops wandering, in which case you go back to noting the rising and falling of the abdomen. If the mind reaches somewhere, note as `reaching, reaching.' Then go back to the rising and falling of the abdomen. If you imagine meeting somebody, note as `meeting, meeting.' Then back to the rising and falling. If you imagine meeting and talking to somebody, note as `talking, talking.'

In short, whatever thought or reflection occurs should be noted. If you imagine, note as `imagining'. If you think, `thinking'. If you plan, `planning'. If you perceive, `perceiving'. If you reflect, `reflecting'. If you feel happy, `happy'. If you feel bored, `bored'. If you feel glad, `glad'. If you feel disheartened, `disheartened'. Noting all these acts of consciousness is called cittanupassana.

Because we fail to note these acts of consciousness, we tend to identify them with a person or individual. We tend to think that it is `I' who is imagining, thinking, planning, knowing (or perceiving). We think that there is a person who from childhood onwards has been living and thinking. Actually, no such person exists. There are instead only these continuing and successive acts of consciousness. That is why we have to note these acts of consciousness and know them for what they are. That is why we have to note each and every act of consciousness as it arises. When so noted, it tends to disappear. We then go back to noting the rising and falling of the abdomen.

When you have sat meditating for long, sensations of stiffness and heat will arise in your body. These are to be noted carefully too. Similarly with sensations of pain and tiredness. All of these sensations are dukkhavedana (feeling of unsatisfactoriness) and noting them is vedananupassana. Failure or omission to note these sensations makes you think, ``I am stiff, I am feeling hot, I am in pain. I was all right a moment ago. Now I am uneasy with these unpleasant sensations.'' The identification of these sensations with the ego is mistaken. There is really no `I' involved, only a succession of one new unpleasant sensation after another.

It is just like a continuous succession of new electrical impulses that light up electric lamps. Every time unpleasant contacts are encountered in the body, unpleasant sensations arise one after another. These sensations should be carefully and intently noted, whether they are sensations of stiffness, of heat or of pain. In the beginning of the yogi's meditational practice, these sensations may tend to increase and lead to a desire to change his posture. This desire should be noted, after which the yogi should go back to noting the sensations of stiffness, heat, etc.

`Patience leads to Nibbana', as the saying goes. This saying is most relevant in meditational effort. One must be patient in meditation. If one shifts or changes one's posture too often because one cannot be patient with the sensation of stiffness or heat that arises, samadhi (good concentration) cannot develop. If samadhi cannot develop, insight cannot result and there can be no attainment of magga (the path that leads to Nibbana), phala (the fruit of that path) and Nibbana. That is why patience is needed in meditation. It is patience mostly with unpleasant sensations in the body like stiffness, sensations of heat and pain, and other sensations that are hard to bear. One should not immediately give up one's meditation on the appearance of such sensations and change one's meditational posture. One should go on patiently, just noting as `stiffness, stiffness' or `hot, hot'. Moderate sensations of these kinds will disappear if one goes on noting them patiently. When concentration is good and strong, even intense sensations tend to disappear. One then reverts to noting the rising and falling of the abdomen.

One will of course have to change one's posture if the sensations do not disappear even after one has noted them for a long time, and if on the other hand they become unbearable. One should then begin noting as `wishing to change, wishing to change.' If the arm rises, note as `rising, rising.' If it moves, note as `moving, moving'. This change should be made gently and noted as `rising, rising', `moving, moving' and `touching, touching'. If the body sways, `swaying, swaying.' If the foot rises, `rising, rising'. If it moves, `moving, moving'. If it drops, `dropping, dropping.' If there is no change, but only static rest, go back to noting the rising and falling of the abdomen. There must be no intermission in between, only contiguity between a preceding act of noting and a succeeding one, between a preceding samadhi (state of concentration) and a succeeding one, between a preceding act of intelligence and a succeeding one. Only then will there be successive and ascending stages of maturity in the yogi's state of intelligence. Magga-Nana and Phala-nana (knowledge of the path and its fruition) are attained only when there is this kind of gathering momentum. The meditative process is like that of producing fire by energetically and unremittingly rubbing two sticks of wood together so as to attain the necessary intensity of heat (when the flame arises).

In the same way, the noting in vipassana meditation should be continual and unremitting, without any resting interval between acts of noting whatever phenomena may arise. For instance, if a sensation of itchiness intervenes and the yogi desires to scratch because it is hard to bear, both the sensation and the desire to get rid of it should be noted, without immediately getting rid of the sensation by scratching.

If one goes on perseveringly noting thus, the itchiness generally disappears, in which case one reverts to noting the rising and falling of the abdomen. If the itchiness does not in fact disappear, one has of course to eliminate it by scratching. But first, the desire to do so should be noted. All the movements involved in the process of eliminating this sensation should be noted, especially the touching, pulling and pushing, and scratching movements, with an eventual reversion to noting the rising and falling of the abdomen.

Every time you make a change of posture, you begin with noting your intention or desire to make the change, and go on to noting every movement closely, such as rising from the sitting posture, raising the arm, moving and stretching it. You should make the change at the same time as noting the movements involved. As your body sways forward, note it. As you rise, the body becomes light and rises. Concentrating your mind on this, you should gently note as `rising, rising'.

The yogi should behave as if he were a weak invalid. People in normal health rise easily and quickly or abruptly. Not so with feeble invalids, who do so slowly and gently. The same is the case with people suffering from `back-ache' who rise gently lest the back hurt and cause pain.

So also with meditating yogis. They have to make their changes of posture gradually and gently; only then will mindfulness, concentration and insight be good. Begin therefore with gentle and gradual movements. When rising, the yogi must do so gently like an invalid, at the same time noting as `rising, rising'. Not only this: though the eye sees, the yogi must act as if he does not see. Similarly when the ear hears. While meditating, the yogi's concern is only to note. What he sees and hears are not his concern. So whatever strange or striking things he may see or hear, he must behave as if he does not see or hear them, merely noting carefully.

When making bodily movements, the yogi should do so gradually as if he were a weak invalid, gently moving the arms and legs, bending or stretching them, bending down the head and bringing it up. All these movements should be made gently. When rising from the sitting posture, he should do so gradually, noting as `rising, rising.' When straightening up and standing, note as `standing, standing'. When looking here and there, note as `looking, seeing'. When walking note the steps, whether they are taken with the right or the left foot. You must be aware of all the successive movements involved, from the raising of, the foot to the dropping of it. Note each step taken, whether with the right foot or the left foot. This is the manner of noting when one walks fast.

It will be enough if you note thus when walking fast and walking some distance. When walking slowly or doing the cankama walk (walking up and down), three movements should be noted in each step: when the foot is raised, when it is pushed forward, and when it is dropped. Begin with noting the raising and dropping movements. One must be properly aware of the raising of the foot. Similarly, when the foot is dropped, one should be properly aware of the `heavy' falling of the foot.

One must walk, noting as `raising, dropping' with each step. This noting will become easier after about two days. Then go on to noting the three movements as described above, as `raising, pushing forward, dropping'. In the beginning, it will suffice to note one or two movements only, thus `right step, left step' when walking fast and `raising, dropping' when walking slowly. If when walking thus, you want to sit down, note as 'wanting to sit down, wanting to sit down.' When actually sitting down, note concentratedly the `heavy' falling of your body.

When you are seated, note the movements involved in arranging your legs and arms. When there are no such movements, but just a stillness (static rest) of the body, note the rising and falling of the abdomen. While noting thus and if stiffness of your limbs and sensation of heat in any part of your body arise, go on to note them. Then back to `rising, falling'. While noting thus and if a desire to lie down arises, note it and the movements of your legs and arms as you lie down. The raising of the arm, the moving of it, the resting of the elbow on the floor, the swaying of the body, the stretching of legs, the listing of the body as one slowly prepares to lie down, all these movements should be noted.

To note as you lie down thus is important. In the course of this movement (that is, lying down), you can gain a distinctive knowledge (that is, magga-nana and phala-nana the knowledge of the path and its fruition). When samadhi (concentration) and nana (insight) are strong, the distinctive knowledge can come at any moment. It can come in a single `bend' of the arm or in a single `stretch' of the arm. Thus it was that the Venerable Ananda became an arahat.

The Ven. Ananda was trying strenuously to attain Arahatship overnight on the eve of the first Buddhist council. He was practising the whole night the form of vipassana meditation known as kiyagatasati, noting his steps, right and left, raising, pushing forward and dropping of the feet; noting, happening by happening, the mental desire to walk and the physical movement involved in walking. Although this went on till it was nearly dawn, he had not yet succeeded in attaining Arahatship. Realizing that he had practised the walking meditation to excess and that, in order to balance samadhi (concentration) and viriya (effort), he should practise meditation in the lying posture for a while, he entered his chamber. He sat on the couch and then lay himself down. While doing so and noting `lying, lying,' he attained Arahatship in an instant.

The Ven. Ananda was only a sotapanna (that is, a stream winner or one who has attained the first stage on the path to Nibbana) before he thus lay himself down. From sotapannahood, he continued to meditate and reached sakadagamihood (that is, the condition of the once-returner or one who has attained the second stage on the path), anagamihood (that is, the state of the non-returner or one who has attained the third stage on the path) and arahatship (that is, the condition of the noble one who has attained the last stage on the path.) Reaching these three successive stages of the higher path took only a little while. Just think of this example of the Ven. Ananda's attainment of arahatship. Such attainment can come at any moment and need not take long.

That is why the yogi should note with diligence all the time. He should not relax in his noting, thinking ``this little lapse should not matter much.'' All movements involved in lying down and arranging the arms and legs should be carefully and unremittingly noted. If there is no movement, but only stillness (of the body), go back to noting the rising and falling of the abdomen. Even when it is getting late and time for sleep, the yogi should not go to sleep yet, dropping his noting. A really serious and energetic yogi should practise mindfulness as if he were forgoing his sleep altogether. He should go on meditating till he falls asleep. If the meditation is good and has the upper hand, he will not fall asleep. If, on the other hand, drowsiness has the upper hand, he will fall asleep. When he feels sleepy, he should note as `sleepy, sleepy'; if his eyelids droop, `drooping'; if they become heavy or leaden, `heavy'; if the eyes become smarting, `smarting'. Noting thus, the drowsiness may pass and the eyes become `clear' again.

The yogi should then note as `clear, clear' and go on to note the rising and falling of the abdomen. However, perseveringly the yogi may go on meditating, if real drowsiness intervenes, he does fall asleep. it is not difficult to fall asleep; in fact, it is easy. If you meditate in the lying posture, you gradually become drowsy and eventually fall asleep. That is why the beginner in meditation should not meditate too much in the lying posture. He should meditate much more in the sitting and walking postures of the body. But as it grows late and becomes time for sleep, he should meditate in the lying position, noting the rising and falling movements of the abdomen. He will then naturally (automatically) fall asleep.

The time he is asleep is the resting time for the yogi. But for the really serious yogi, he should limit his sleeping time to about four hours. This is the `midnight time' permitted by the Buddha. Four hours' sleep is quite enough. If the beginner in meditation thinks that four hours' sleep is not enough for health, he may extend it to five or six hours. Six hours' sleep is clearly enough for health.

When the yogi awakens, he should at once resume noting. The yogi who is really bent on attaining magga-nana and phala-nana, should rest from meditational effort only when he is asleep. At other times, in his waking moments, he should be noting continually and without rest. That is why, as soon as he awakens, he should note the awakening state of his mind as `awakening, awakening.' If he cannot yet make himself aware of this, he should begin noting the rising and falling of the abdomen.

If he intends to get up from bed, he should note as `intending to get up, intending to get up.' He should then go on to note the changing movements he makes as he arranges his arms and legs. When he raises his head and rises, note as `rising, rising'. When he is seated; note as `sitting, sitting.' If he makes any changing movements as he arranges his arms and legs, all of these movements should also be noted. If there are no such changes, but only a sitting quietly, he should revert to noting the rising and falling movements of the abdomen.

One should also note when one washes one's face and when one takes a bath. As the movements involved in these acts are rather quick, as many of them should be noted as possible. There are then acts of dressing, of tidying up the bed, of opening and closing the door; all these should also be noted as closely as possible.

When the yogi has his meal and looks at the meal-table, he should note as `looking, seeing, looking, seeing.' When he extends his arm towards the food, touches it, collects and arranges it, handles it and brings it to the mouth, bends his head and puts the morsel of food into his mouth, drops his arm and raises his head again, all these movements should be duly noted.

(This way of noting is in accordance with the Burmese way of taking a meal. Those who use fork and spoon or chopsticks should note the movements in an appropriate manner.)

When he chews the food, he should note as `chewing, chewing'. When he comes to know the taste of the food, he should note as `knowing, knowing'. As he relishes the food and swallows it, as the food goes down his throat, he should note all these happenings. This is how the yogi should note as he takes one morsel after another of his food. As he takes his soup, all the movements involved such as extending of the arm, handling of the spoon and scooping with it and so on, all these should be noted. To note thus at meal-time is rather difficult as there are so many things to observe and note. The beginning yogi is likely to miss several things which he should note, but he should resolve to note all. He cannot of course help it if he overlooks and misses some, but as his samadhi (concentration) becomes strong, he will be able to note closely all these happenings.

Well, I have mentioned so many things for the yogi to note. But to summarise, there are only a few things to note. When walking fast, note as `right step', `left step', and as `raising, dropping' when walking slowly. When sitting quietly, just note the rising and falling of the abdomen. Note the same when you are lying, if there is nothing particular to note. While noting thus and if the mind wanders, note the acts of consciousness that arise. Then back to the rising and falling of the abdomen. Note also the sensations of stiffness, pain and ache, and itchiness as they arise. Then back to the rising and falling of the abdomen. Note also, as they arise, the bending and stretching and moving of the limbs, bending and raising of the head, swaying and straightening of the body. Then back to the rising and falling of the abdomen.

As the yogi goes on noting thus, he will be able to note more and more of these happenings. In the beginning, as his mind wanders here and there, the yogi may miss noting many things. But he should not be disheartened. Every beginner in meditation encounters the same difficulty, but as he becomes more practised, he becomes aware of every act of mind-wandering till eventually the mind does not wander any more. The mind is then riveted on the object of its attention, the act of mindfulness becoming almost simultaneous with the object of its attention such as the rising and falling of the abdomen. (In other words the rising of the abdomen becomes concurrent with the act of noting it, and similarly with the falling of the abdomen.)

The physical object of attention and the mental act of noting are occurring as a pair. There is in this occurrence no person or individual involved, only this physical object of attention and the mental act of noting occurring as a pair. The yogi will in time actually and personally experience these occurrences. While noting the rising and falling of the abdomen he will come to distinguish the rising of the abdomen as physical phenomenon and the mental act of noting of it as psychical phenomenon; similarly with the falling of the abdomen. Thus the yogi will distinctly come to realize the simultaneous occurrence in pair of these psycho-physical phenomena.

Thus, with every act of noting, the yogi will come to know for himself clearly that there are only this material quality which is the object of awareness or attention and the mental quality that makes a note of it. This discriminating knowledge is called namarupa-pariccheda-nana, the beginning of the vipassana-nana. It is important to gain this knowledge correctly. This will be succeeded, as the yogi goes on, by the knowledge that distinguishes between the cause and its effect, which knowledge is called paccayapariggaha-nana.

As the yogi goes on noting, he will see for himself that what arises passes away after a short while. Ordinary people assume that both the material and mental phenomena go on lasting throughout life, that is, from youth to adulthood. In fact, that is not so. There is no phenomenon that lasts for ever. All phenomena arise and pass away so rapidly that they do not last even for the twinkling of an eye. The yogi will come to know this for himself as he goes on noting. He will then become convinced of the impermanency of all such phenomena. Such conviction is called aniccanupassana-nana.

This knowledge will be succeeded by dukkhanupassana-nana, which realises that all this impermanency is suffering. The yogi is also likely to encounter all kinds of hardship in his body, which is just an aggregate of sufferings. This is also dukkhanupassana-nana. Next, the yogi will become convinced that all these psycho-physical phenomena are occurring of their own accord, following nobody's will and subject to nobody's control. They constitute no individual or ego-entity. This realisation is anattanupassana-nana.

When, as he goes on meditating, the yogi comes to realise firmly that all these phenomena are anicca, dukkha and anatta, he will attain Nibbana. All the former Buddhas, Arahats and Aryas realised Nibbana following this very path. All meditating yogis should recognise that they themselves are now on this sati-patthana path, in fulfilment of their wish for attainment of magga-nana (knowledge of the path), phala-nana (knowledge of the fruition of the path) and Nibbana-dhamma, and following the ripening of their parami (perfection of virtue). They should feel glad at this and at the prospect of experiencing the noble kind of samadhi (tranquillity of mind brought about by concentration) and nana (supramundane knowledge or wisdom) experienced by the Buddhas, Arahats and Aryas and which they themselves have never experienced before.

It will not be long before they will experience for themselves the magga-nana, phala-nana and Nibbana-dhamma experienced by the Buddhas, Arahats and Aryas. As a matter of fact. these may be experienced in the space of a month or of twenty or fifteen days of their meditational practice. Those whose parami is exceptional may experience these dhammas even within seven days. The yogi should therefore rest content in the faith that he will attain these dhammas in the time specified above, that he will be freed of sakkaya-ditthi (ego-belief) and vicikiccha (doubt or uncertainty) and saved from the danger of rebirth in the nether worlds. He should go on with his meditational practice in this faith. May you all be able to practise meditation well and quickly attain that Nibbana which the Buddhas, Arahats and Aryas have experienced!

Sadhu! Sadhu! Sadhu!