The Experience of No-Self
-
Anatta
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
In Buddhism, anatt� (P�li) or an�tman (Sanskrit) refers to the notion of "not-self". One scholar describes it as "meaning non-selfhood, the absence of limiting self-identity in people and things."[1] In the Pali suttas and the related �gamas (referred to collectively below as the nikayas), the agglomeration of constantly changing physical and mental constituents ("skandhas") comprising a human being is thoroughly analyzed and stated not to comprise an eternal, unchanging self (often denoted "Self"). In the Nikayas, the Buddha repeatedly emphasizes not only that the five skandhas of living being are "not-self", but that clinging to them as if they were an immutable self or soul (�tman) gives rise to unhappiness.
The anatta doctrine is not a type of materialism. Buddhism does not necessarily deny the existence of mental phenomena (such as feelings, thoughts, and sensations) that are distinct from material phenomena.[2] Thus, the conventional translation of anatta as "no-soul"[3] can be misleading. If the word "soul" refers to a non-bodily component in a person that can continue in some way after death, then Buddhism does not deny the existence of a soul.[4] Instead, Buddhism denies the existence of a permanent entity that remains constant behind the changing bodily and non-bodily components of a living being. Reportedly, the Buddha reprimanded a disciple who thought of consciousness as a permanent substance within a person.[5] Just as the body changes from moment to moment, so thoughts come and go; and according to the anatta doctrine, there is no permanent conscious substance that experiences these thoughts, as in Cartesianism: rather, conscious thoughts simply arise and perish with no "thinker" behind them.[6]. When the body dies, the incorporeal mental processes continue and are reborn in a new body.[7] Because the mental processes are constantly changing, the new being is neither exactly the same as, nor completely different from, the being that died.[8]
Although Buddhism rejects the notion of a permanent self, it does not reject the notion of an empirical self (composed of constantly changing physical and mental phenomena) that can be conveniently referred to with words such as "I", "you", "being", "individual", etc.[9] Early Buddhist scriptures describe an enlightened individual as someone whose changing, empirical self is highly developed. According to Buddhist teachings, this phenomenon should not, either in whole or in part, be reified, either in affirmation or denial. The Buddha rejected the latter metaphysical assertions as ontological theorizing that binds one to suffering.[10]
Some Mahayana Buddhist sutras and tantras present Buddhist teachings on emptiness using positive language by positing the ultimate reality of the "true self" (atman). In these teachings the word is used to refer to each being's inborn potential to realize Buddhahood through Buddhist practices, and future status as a Buddha.[11] This teaching, which is soteriological rather than theoretical, portrays this potential or aspect as undying.
Anatta, along with dukkha (suffering/unease) and anicca (impermanence), is one of the three dharma seals, which, according to Buddhism, characterise all conditioned phenomena.
-
The following article 'Anatta and Meditation' is an article that Thusness recommended me as being quite a good article on anatta. However, the author still sees Anatta as a stage of experience rather than a dharma seal/ever-present characteristic of reality. Nevertheless, the experience is there, which means the experience is non-dual... and for a beginner it is a good understanding and description. Until one realizes that it is a seal. For that to happen, insight must arise. What is the difference between seeing Anatta as a stage and as a seal?When a person says that I have gone beyond the experiences from ‘I hear sound’ to a stage of ‘becoming sound’, he is mistaken. When it is taken to be a stage, it is illusory. For in actual case, there is and always is only sound when hearing; never was there a hearer to begin with. Nothing attained for it is always so. This is the seal of no-self.Anyway here is the article:Anatta and Meditation
Chris Kang
BOccThy (Hons)
The University of Queensland§
Introduction
This article aims to describe how the central Buddhist doctrine of anatta or ‘egolessness’ relates to meditative practice and experience, through a survey of meditative teachings by medieval and contemporary meditation masters across various Buddhist traditions – Theravada, Zen, and Tibetan Buddhism. A personal account of how anatta and meditation are related in the experience of the author follows. The twin approach of contemporary textual study and personal phenomenological investigation may prove to be a helpful methodology in the elucidation of this most enigmatic, and perhaps, most controversial teaching of the historical Buddha.
Meditation Teachers on Anatta
Anatta often translated in English as ‘non-self’ or ‘egolessness’, is regarded by both Buddhist practitioners and scholars alike as being the essential kernel of the vast edifice of Buddhist thought and practice. The title of Anatta-vadi conferred upon the Buddha by Theravada Buddhists, the elevated status accorded to the huge collection of prajnaparamita or ‘perfection of wisdom’ texts, which focusses emphatically on the idea of sunyata or ‘emptiness’, and the testimonies of meditation teachers across the various Buddhist traditions, all bear witness to the centrality of the doctrine of anatta. In particular, Buddhist meditators have often described anatta as the single most profound discovery of the Buddha, and that an insight into anatta is crucial for attaining that utter liberation of the mind which is the summum bonum of Buddhist praxis.
In the Theravada or ‘Way of the Elders’ tradition, a very important doctrine is that of the Three Characteristics of Existence, namely anicca (impermanence), dukkha (unsatisfactoriness), and anatta (non-self). Both in theory and practice, insight into the Three Characteristics is considered of paramount importance in the realization of nibbana, the ultimate state of freedom from all suffering. Nyanaponika describes the heart of Buddhist meditation as the simple but effective method of bare attention, which he defines as ‘the clear and single-minded awareness of what actually happens to us and in us, at the successive moments of perception’. Bare attention consists in the bare and exact registering of the object of perception through the six senses (eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind) before associative and abstract thinking takes place. Sustained and diligent application of bare attention to the four domains of mindfulness, namely the body, feelings, mind, and mental objects, is thought to lead the meditator to the realization that nowhere behind or within the psychophysical continuum can any individual agent or abiding entity called the ‘self’ be detected. Nyanaponika also emphasizes the usefulness of anapanasati or mindfulness of breathing in enabling the meditator to see the conditioned nature of the body, by virtue of the very fact that the breathing process is dynamic, essentially linked to existence, and dependent on the efficient functioning of certain organs. The nature of the body as activated by impersonal processess, and thus without any substance, thus becomes evident.
Dhiravamsa, another contemporary meditation teacher in the Theravada tradition, advocates the practice of non-attached awareness, which consists in the dynamic and alert observation of all sensations, emotions, and thoughts. He emphasizes the need to spontaneously observe and investigate one’s experience free from the grip of authority – be they some teacher’s words or one’s preconceived ideas. According to him, meditation can be found by looking, listening, touching, tasting, talking, walking, standing, in all movements and in all activities. For example, when one is able to look or listen with great attentiveness, clarity, and without a single thought, one can then experience the flow of awareness that is without any reactivity, reasoning, and sense of self. In talking about hearing with awareness, he says:
If there were myself acting as the hearer apart from the hearing, then "I am" would be separated from "myself" which has no corresponding reality. For "I am" and "myself" is one and the same thing. Hence I am hearing.
In this experience of the non-duality of subject and object, there is a realization of the absence of any permanent and independently existing ‘experiencer’ apart from the experience. This state is characterized by tremendous joy and bliss, a great clarity of understanding and complete freedom.
Ajahn Sumedho, a foremost Western disciple of the famous Thai meditation master Ajahn Chah, speaks about the silent observation of all that arises and passes away in one’s body and mind in an open spirit of ‘letting go’. The gentle calming and silencing of the mind is encouraged so as to create a space in which to observe the conditions of the body and mind. In particular, meditation on the body is done with a sweeping awareness of all the various sensations that arise throughout the body, for example the pressure of one’s clothes on the body or the subtle vibrations on the hands and feet. This awareness can also be concentrated in a gentle and peaceful way on any particular area of the body for further investigation. The mind, consisting of perceptions (sanna), sensations (vedana), mental formations (sankhara), and consciousness (vinnana), is also observed with a silent awareness. As Ajahn Sumedho says:
Investigate these until you fully understand that all that rises passes away and is not self. Then there’s no grasping of anything as being oneself, and you are free from that desire to know yourself as a quality or a substance. This is liberation from birth and death.
Another technique advocated by Sumedho is that of listening to one’s thoughts. The meditator is asked to allow mental verbalizations and thoughts to arise in the mind without suppressing or grasping after them. In this way, what is normally held below the threshold of consciousness is made fully conscious. Verbalizations associated with pride, jealousy, meanness, or whatever emotions are seen for what they are – impermanent, selfless conditions arising and passing away. The thought "Who am I?" is purposefully generated to observe its arising from and dissolving into the empty space of the mind. By doing this, one realizes the lack of a substantial and existing self within the processes of one’s thought.
Thich Nhat Hanh, a Vietnamese Buddhist monk who represents a confluence of both the Theravada and Mahayana (literally ‘Great Vehicle’) Zen tradition, is a well-known peace activist as well as respected meditation teacher who leads retreats worldwide on the ‘art of mindful living’. In his teachings, Thich Nhat Hanh emphasizes the twin practices of ‘stopping’ or concentration, and ‘observing’ or insight. In ‘stopping’, one practises conscious breathing in order to come back to oneself and to regain composure of body and mind. In ‘observing’, one illumines one’s body and mind with the light of mindful awareness in order to see deeply their true nature. Through the simple practice of consciously following one’s breath and attending to one’s body in the process of breathing, there comes a time when the breath, body, and mind very naturally becomes unified. One is then ready to clearly observe and look deeply into the feelings (vedana), internal formations (sankhara), and mental objects (dharmas) that arise in the field of awareness. In this process of looking, Thich Nhat Hanh says that to observe is to be one with the object of observation. The subject of observation is not one’s self, but the faculty of mindfulness which has the function of illuminating and transforming. As Thich Nhat Hanh says:
Mindfulness is the observing mind, but it does not stand outside of the object of observation. It goes right into the object and becomes one with it. Because the nature of the observing mind is mindfulness, the observing mind does not lose itself in the object but transforms it by illuminating it, just as the penetrating light of the sun transforms trees and plants.
This method of penetrative observation leads one to realize deeply that the awakened mind is not separate from the deluded mind, and that behind the illumination, there is neither one who illumines nor one who is illumined. In short, the observer is the observed:
If we continue in our mindful observation there will no longer be a duality between observer and observed.
In this respect, Thich Nhat Hanh is articulating an insight essentially similar to that of Dhiravamsa. But Thich Nhat Hanh goes further than that. He says that there comes a point in time at which, when one’s observation of this body and mind becomes sufficiently deep, one realizes directly the essential interdependence of oneself with all beings and indeed, with all things. In this experience of insight, which he calls ‘interbeing’, there is no longer any separation between an independently-existing self and all that is external to it – in fact, one is the world. To experientially understand this profound truth is to have penetrated into the core of anatta.
Shunryu Suzuki (1905-1971), a direct spiritual descendant of the great thirteenth-century Zen master Dogen, came to America from Japan in 1958. His teachings, simple and direct, are focussed around the practice of the ‘beginner’s mind’ – that innocence of first inquiry characterized by the attitude which includes both doubt and possibility, and the ability to perceive things always as fresh and new. Commenting on the practice of breathing in zazen or sitting meditation, he says:
The air comes in and goes out like someone passing through a swinging door. If you think, "I breathe", the "I" is extra. There is no you to say "I". What we call "I" is just a swinging door, which moves when we inhale and when we exhale. It just moves; that is all. When your mind is pure and calm enough to follow this movement, there is nothing: no "I", no world, no mind nor body.
Like Thich Nhat Hanh, Suzuki emphasizes the correct practice of mindful breathing in which there is no independent observer apart from the observed – in other words, the experience of anatta. He goes on to say that when one is fully concentrated on the breathing, there arises the realization of the ‘completely dependent’ yet ‘independent’ nature of existence, of which he says:
When we become truly ourselves, we just become a swinging door, and we are purely independent of, and at the same time, dependent upon everything… So when you practise zazen, your mind should be concentrated on your breathing… Without this experience, this practice, it is impossible to attain absolute freedom.
Suzuki also advocates an attentive and focussed mind in everything that one does, without being ‘shadowed by some preconceived idea’ or giving rise to ‘other notions about other activities and things’. In the total engagement of an activity with one’s whole body and mind, there is no room for a sense of "I" or "other" – an experience of anatta. He describes this kind of action rather poetically:
When you do something, you should burn yourself completely, like a good bonfire, leaving no trace of yourself.
Yet another way of practice which he teaches is what he calls a ‘smooth, free-thinking way of observation’ wherein the mind remains soft, open and observant of everything that arises in one’s experience. Whether an object arises in the field of consciousness or not, the mind should remain stable and undivided in its attention. In this way, there is no fragmentation of experience and no clinging to one thing while rejecting the other – an experience of ‘no mind’ or emptiness, in which the ‘self’ no longer exists as separate from the whole of experience, emerges.
Various methods for the realization of anatta or sunyata (literally ‘emptiness’ or ‘voidness’) , as articulated in Mahayana Buddhism, can be found in the different schools of Tibetan Buddhism. An intellectually-oriented, analytical method is advocated by the Gelug school whereas a direct, spontaneous awareness approach is taught and emphasized by the Mahamudra and Dzog-chen traditions of the Karma-Kagyu and Nying-ma schools respectively. It is the opinion of the author that while a discursive, intellectual analysis of the mind-body complex and of the world, even when accompanied by strong concentration, might result in a deep and refined understanding of the concept of sunyata, it nevertheless is a realization quite separate from a direct insight into anatta, which involves a non-conceptual seeing of what is. As such, the Mahamudra and Dzog-chen approaches, rather than that of the Gelug, will be discussed here.
Wang-ch’ug Dorje (1556-1603), the ninth Karmapa or spiritual head of the Karma-Kagyu school, describes Mahamudra meditation as consisting of mental quiescence (samatha) and penetrative insight (vipasyana) practices. The two techniques advocated for settling the mind in mental quiescence are the focussing of attention on an external object and on one’s breath. A mastery of the above practices results in a state of bliss, clarity, and bare non-conceptuality, which is then utilized to investigate the mind. In penetrative insight practice, the settled mind itself is scrupulously and silently examined to realize its true nature. Following this, the meditator is asked to examine thoroughly the moving mind or train of thought, and to recognize it for what it is. If a fleeting thought does not arise, one is then asked to deliberately emanate a thought for mindful investigation. Wang-ch’ug Dorje further instructs:
When you see that the nature of thought is a bright, clear awareness, then look to see whether there is any difference between the bright, clear awareness you saw previously with respect to the settled mind and the bright, clear awareness you see now with respect to a thought.
Such an investigation leads the meditator to realize the essential non-differentiation of the settled mind, moving mind, and clear awareness, in which no inherently existing self can be found. This allows full realization to be attained, when thought-moments are consistently seen as ‘suchness’ and ‘emptiness’in the course of one’s experience, thereby transcending their delusion-making quality. The sense of an inherently existing ‘self’ dissolves with this clear penetrating insight into the nature of both thoughts and the quiet mind – the experience of anatta.
Another Tibetan master, Sogyal Rinpoche, comes from the Nying-ma school which had its origins in the great Tibetan saint Padmasambhava. In the Nying-ma tradition, the highest and quintessential practice is known as Dzog-chen, a term which denotes both the simple yet profound practice for realizing the intrinsic nature of the mind, as well as the state of primordial awakening itself – the summit of one’s spiritual evolution. Sogyal Rinpoche explains that the essential nature of the mind is a space-like, radiant, pristine awareness, traditionally described as the state of Rigpa. The whole point of Dzog-chen is ‘to strengthen and stabilize Rigpa, and allow it to grow to full maturity’. The essence of meditation practice in Dzog-chen is described as follows: one mindfully and repeatedly attends to the space between the arising of two thoughts, which eventually results in a luminous, naked awareness that is free of conceptualizations and firmly rooted in the present – that is the state of Rigpa. Following this, another thought might arise out of that space, which is then immediately recognized for what it really is without lapsing into further chains of thought. In this way, ‘whatever thoughts that arise all automatically dissolve back into the vast expanse of Rigpa and are liberated’. The same spacelike awareness is cultivated with respect to emotions, events in everyday life, and whatever activities one is engaged in. Through a sustained and gradually deepening practice of Dzog-chen meditation, the state of Rigpa eventually becomes a continual flow, ‘like a river constantly moving day and night without any interruption’. In the state of Rigpa, be it continuous or momentary, all that arises in the mind is seen to be the manifestation of its very energy. In other words, the awareness and the object of awareness are no longer separate and no subject called the ‘self’ can be found anywhere – this is essentially an insight into anatta, perhaps in its most subtle and mature form.
Personal Glimpses into Reality
In my personal practice, the meditative technique that I have found to be most direct and profound is what might be described as choiceless awareness. In essence, it is no different from many of the aforementioned meditative practices, especially those of Mahamudra and Dzog-chen. It involves a whole way of living in which meditation, life, and activity are meant to blend into one harmonious integrality. I do not claim to have fully actualized this state but see myself as an earnest and committed practitioner of this integral path.
I have found, over the course of my practice, the immense value of formal sitting- meditation in initiating the momentum of stillness and observation, which can then be made to continue throughout the day. Both during formal sitting and in my daily rounds, I have found the practice of awareness of thoughts to be greatly significant in yielding deep insights into the nature of the self and experience. I compare this state of awareness to an elusive guest that comes of its own accord and leaves just as mysteriously, and that again emerges just as quietly as it has left. Be that as it may, the presence of awareness is felt as an ‘inner light’ which allows a diverse range of mental processes to be ‘seen’ with clarity and openness. Thoughts are witnessed in a subtle and undistracted manner to reveal their associative nature and at times, their isolated randomness. At times, thoughts have been observed to arise one after another in a continuous ‘stream’, each image associated with the next, centred around a specific theme or moving along in a specific direction. At other times, thoughts seem to branch off in multiple directions through lateral connections between seemingly unrelated images. And again, thoughts may arise in a slow and discontinuous manner, with each image ceasing almost immediately after it has arisen, to be followed after a pause by another related or non-related image. Along with mental images is an almost ubiquitous accompaniment of a running ‘commentary’ or ‘inner voice’. This somewhat vague yet familiar voice appears to be ‘me’, the centre of ‘my’ being, the place from where ‘I’ relate to the world. Perhaps the most important discovery that I made in relation to this experience of meditative awareness is this: while a strong sense of solidified ‘self’ separate from the flow of experience is present in ordinary, unaware consciousness, this very ‘self’ is starkly and refreshingly absent in the light of awareness. It is as if there is only a luminosity in the midst of experience, of thoughts and inner commentary, that defies reification or solidification. Greater familiarity with this spacious state of awareness allows me to contrast it to times when I have been unaware or only partially aware. This act of contrasting and comparison resulted in the realization that while in the state of unawareness, there is strong volitional and emotional involvement in these images, in the experience of awareness, this very involvement seem to be strikingly absent. In their place is a quality of soft, relaxed equanimity. It is as if the vortical interplay of thoughts, emotions, and volition is the very source of this sense of ‘self’. In other words, the ‘thinker’ is the thought(s), the ‘experiencer’ is the experience!
The other practice which I have found to be very beneficial is that of conscious breathing as described by Thich Nhat Hanh. Conscious breathing has been of great value in collecting the scattered energies of the mind prior to mindful observation. Two distinct yet somewhat similar states of consciousness that bear a relation to anatta have been experienced in the course of this practice. The first resulted from intense concentration on the sensations of moving air touching the tip of my nostrils as I was breathing. With sustained attention, coarse contactual sensations gradually gave way to subtle vibrations of rapid frequency. Persistent concentration on these vibrations seemed to increase the intensity and field of this experience; awareness of breathing seemed to have totally dissolved into the ‘sea’ of vibration. In a sudden and unexpected moment, however, the field of vibrations disappeared, leaving a pervasive sense of ‘nothingness’ wherein no boundary between the ‘self’ and the environment existed. I had lost all consciousness of bodily sensations and thoughts, and awareness, which was initially clear and present at the start of the practice, now became indistinct and blurred. It was a state in which ‘I’ was not there at all, characterized by the lack rather than presence of clear awareness. While this may be a glimpse of anatta, albeit an imperfect and distorted one, it never had the significance and clarity that the second experience had.
This experience occurred, again, during the practice of conscious breathing. Following a period of focussed attention on the breath, I started suffusing the whole body with awareness, all the while keeping the breath at the background of my mind. Awareness was light, open, and pervasive, giving rise to a deepening sense of joy and ease. Gradually and gently, it seemed as if the awareness, the breath, and the blissful sensations of the body merged into one, leaving no solid ‘self’ or ‘experiencer’ behind or within this flowing experience of clarity and non-thought. It was a profoundly invigorating ‘non-experience’ which left a deep and lasting impression on me. It made me think of its resemblance to what Thich Nhat Hanh has described as the anatta experience.
Another interesting experience that bear a relation to anatta occurred on a particular occasion when I was at the beach. On this occasion, the sea breeze was blowing with great strength and its extreme chill sent shivers down my spine and through my entire frame. I felt myself tensing up every single muscle I could find in my body. In that moment of need, awareness arose in my mind and an immediate relaxation of the muscles ensued. I decided to experiment with how far I could possibly relate to this somewhat unpleasant experience with clear awareness. Gradually I was able to let go of my resistance to the wind and to allow my body to experience the strong sensations as they are, without interference. It was as if the wind was allowed to sweep across and into my body even as I stood there open, aware, and vulnerable. As I stayed with it for some time, the separation between the wind and myself seemed to vanish, and in a brief but unforgettable moment, I was the wind. The ‘self’ had merged into the wind, as it were, and my sense of a separate ego had been forgotten.
In conclusion, the discovery of the lack of any permanent, inherent self that stands apart from one’s experience is perhaps the most fascinating and freeing insight that Buddhist meditators over the centuries have realized. This insight contains many dimensions and varying degrees of profundity and subtlety, which in a sense, can never be adequately described with language. It is an understanding that has to come from personal, existential realization. It is only when thought and all that is born of thought, which is the self, has completely ceased to dominate and to delude, that there comes the possibility of lasting, unconditioned freedom – that is the aim, that is the goal, that is the culmination.
ENDNOTES
Nyanatiloka, Buddhist Dictionary: Manual of Buddhist Terms and Doctrines (Colombo: Frewin & Co., 1972), p. 12.
Nyanaponika, The Heart of Buddhist Meditation (London: Rider, 1962), p. 30.
Dhiravamsa, V.R., The Way of Non-Attachment (England: Crucible, 1989), p. 57.
Sumedho, A., Mindfulness: The Path to the Deathless (England: Amaravati, 1987), p. 51.
Thich Nhat Hanh, Transformation and Healing: Sutra on the Four Establishments of Mindfulness (California: Parallax, 1990), p. 44.
Ibid., pp. 125-126.
Ibid., p. 126.
Suzuki, S., Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind (New York: Weatherhill, 1991), p. 29.
Ibid., p. 31.
Ibid., p. 62.
Ibid., p. 63.
Ibid., p. 115.
Wang-ch'ug Dorje, The Mahamudra Eliminating the Darkness of Ignorance (Dharamsala: Library of Tibetan Works and Archives, 1989), p. 68.
Ibid., p. 83.
Sogyal Rinpoche, The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying (London: Rider, 1992), p. 159.
Ibid., p. 160.
Ibid., p. 160.
-
I can relate to the statement "...the immense value of formal sitting- meditation in initiating the momentum of stillness and observation, which can then be made to continue throughout the day". Just sharing some of my personal experience here and maybe you can share yours too.
My initial attempt in meditation practice is at best described as "on and off". Continue for a week or two and then break for a month or two due to "no mood". But for past two years or so, i've been able to cultivate the habit to practice almost every day (before bedtime in my case), with not more than 3 or 4 days of break per month due to tiredness, sleepiness after work.. etc.
Due to more consistent practice, the "momentum" of the mindfulness or awareness seems to "spill over" into my post-meditation period. Superficial physical meditative experiences like tingliing of the forehead/scalp/arms/jaw, slight pressure in ears needing release by "popping" .. etc can be felt randomly throughout the day as long as i have the chance to settle down and relax my mind even for a moment, compared with earlier days when such sensations only arise after going through the "attention to breath" process during formal meditation period. But i find the physical experiences can be quite annoying/distracting at times if it happens while performing mundane activities but i just try to let them be. Wonder if anyexperienced meditator here can share their experience on how to deal with these?
Mentally, from the "content" perspective, the mind seems to have longer intervals without being drowned out by internal chatter and random thoughts. More frequency (but still not often enough) of "catching" thoughts as they arise but still not happening instinctively enough. One big benefit of "catching" or be mindful of thoughts and subsequent actions for me personally is being able to recognize how bizarre, neurotic, destructive and self-righteous the ego can be. Which i sometimes feel like it's a "jekyll and hyde" inside one person, the "good" side observing the "bad" side. But still, recognizing doesn't mean these habitual karmic propensities can be overcome easily, very intriguing indeed. From the field of vision perspective, moment of relaxing the mind can sometimes result in literally increased brightness and starkness of those objects within the vision, like someone turning up the LCD screen is the closest analogy i can think of :-) while there's a quiet awareness at the same time.
I'm still figuring out these various experiences as a result of the "momentum" of formal meditation sitting but i think the best way is still to just let them be and not reify them to become obstacles. I guess my 2cents worth is the most practical way to progress is still some serious sitting on the cushion. Remember a teacher in a meditation class saying that even 5-10 mins of sitting everyday beats doing an hour in a single sitting a week. Consistency is the key.
-
Sorry I missed your reply initially.
Habits are like that.... they have a certain momentum. They will keep coming up due to the force of that momentum, but only for so long.
In my experience... when I rest in the state of awareness... awareness is like the host. It's not a real entity per se, more like a self-luminous open space that illuminates everything in it. Thoughts, habits, concepts, they come in. They are your guests. They want your attention. They want to make you think that they're your good friend, they want you to recognize and identify with them. They want you to follow them.
If... as awareness.... we simply remain as such, not reacting to those guests, the guests have no choice but to leave on their own accord. We usually think that we're the controller and thinker of thoughts but really, each thought simply comes by its own accord, and also goes by its own accord if we let them. They're clearly seen and perceived but that's just it. Don't entertain those guests, they can only try to come back for so long before giving up.
I'm trying to keep a routine meditation practice like you... and I certainly see the benefits of consistent practice in building up momentum in daily lives.
About those tingling, pressure etc, I did have a number of strange experiences in meditation... though not exactly the same as yours. Like you I simply let them pass. Sometimes there's tingling and pressure in between my forehead. Sometimes there's a sort of very blissful tingles that spread around the body in intense waves. Sometimes the bliss is experienced in all sense doors when practicing mindfulness. Seeing and hearing itself becomes blissful. However I didn't really have "irritating experiences".
Anyway I don't know what advice to offer you in this regards as I don't really have the same sort of experiences as you... maybe Thusness or Longchen can comment?
-
Here's another article by someone else.
http://www.ahalmaas.com/Extracts/sunyata.htm
From Heart Dweller © 1973 A-Hameed Ali – All rights reserved
Sunyata
If love leads the devotee to the point of the extinction of personality in the fire of truth, awareness can lead him to the point of seeing that ego does not really exist, and hence achieve the same goal of selflessness. Love melts the lover into the ocean of truth, there remain no traces of an “I”. Awareness, on the other hand, cuts through the illusion of a separate identity. It exposes the lie of ego: that it exists as a reality. Love melts ego away, while awareness is like turning on the light and seeing that there is nobody there. The outcome is the same in both cases, but the flavor of the path is different. One is more emotional, the other more insightful. The vocabularies of the two paths differ as a result. The path of love seeks union with the Beloved, while the path of awareness seeks the seeing of naked Reality. Just as prayer is the central practice in the path of love, meditation is the central practice in the path of awareness.
Buddhism, more than any other spiritual discipline, has developed meditation into a very fine art. Meditation is the center and the heart of all Buddhist schools. Without meditation there is really no Buddhism. And because of this Buddhism has more of a mental flavor than most other religions. It deals with the mind, and talks about the mind while the Sufis talk more of the Heart. This does not mean that the Buddhist Mind and the Sufi Heart are two different things. This is because when Buddhists say Mind they don’t mean what we usually understand to be mind. Also, when the Sufis mention the Heart they don’t mean what we call heart. Still the flavors of the two approaches are different because for the lower levels of spiritual experience there is a distinction between mind and heart.
My experience with the Buddhist path starts with the practice of Vipassana. It is the central practice in the Theravada tradition. The practice is just bare attention, being mindful of whatever my experience is. It is the main meditation practice that I have done for years. This meditation is not an easy practice by any means, although it sounds so. Just attending to whatever I experience puts me right away in touch with the first noble truth of Buddhism, the truth of suffering. Almost all this time there is suffering in my experience, whether in me or in the world around me. This suffering and pain is a prime cause for the lowering of awareness in each of us. We just want to avoid pain at any cost, and being asleep and unaware is the most effective means. But we cannot avoid pain without lowering our awareness. So cultivating awareness brings me face to face with suffering, mine and everybody else’s.
But suffering and pain are not the only difficulties in the practice of meditation. Beyond all the tricks and defenses of ego lie levels of experience and consciousness that are so subtle and so intangible that the meditator can be stuck for years without even knowing it. An accomplished and experienced meditation teacher is necessary, for this is a person who knows the terrain from experience and can guide the person who has never been to such places.
Vipassana is called “insight meditation,” for it develops and cultivates insight. At the beginning insight is psychological in nature. I see my ego patterns, my ways of handling my experience, my ways of avoiding reality, my conflicts, my emotional problems, and so on. So it is awareness of my personality or my ego. This is natural for this is what is there at the beginning.
However, awareness does not stop here. In fact, awareness does not need an object. It can be just pure awareness. It can be only aware of itself. So after a while, sometimes a very long while, the content of experience starts to slow and quiet down. With consistent practice my thoughts calm down, my emotions quiet down, and I become very calm, very still, very peaceful.
The level of experience shifts now that there is enough stillness for me to see more clearly. I become aware of this observer in me who is paying attention. I cannot pay attention without somebody paying attention to something. First I think this is ordinary and okay. I learn, however, that this observer is not really needed. The need for an observer is the need for ego to have a center, to make itself into a center of experience. So the observer is really none other than ego, or part of ego. I start seeing that awareness cannot develop more if it is centered. A center of awareness, an observer, always limits awareness, for it is always aware through a certain perspective, a certain point of view, from a certain direction. This somehow has a cramping effect on me. I become more tense instead of relaxed. An observer means there is tension in my awareness, it’s not open and free. So I turn my awareness backward and look at the observer. It jumps around, and awareness keeps following it. But awareness never finds any substantial reality to this observer. Regardless of how much I look there is really no observer. Sometimes it feels that it is only a thought, or an idea, or a place in my body, or a belief in its existence, but never a consistent identity. Not finding this observer makes it less real. The center of awareness relaxes its tense grip on my awareness. The ego-center, or the observer in this case, relaxes, spreads thinner, and slowly dissolves into the stillness. There is no more need for an observer.
Only stillness is left—fresh, clear, crisp and empty. Thoughts pass through it. Emotions pass through it. Experiences pass through it. But the stillness stays immaculate, just as the clear sky stays untouched as the clouds pass through it.
The winds blow
The rivers flow
The fires gnaw
But stillness is still still.There is a feeling of lightness, of joy, of freedom. There is a sense of naturalness with a crystal kind of clarity, just as snow-covered mountains feel natural and clear. Awareness is no longer tense. It loses its attachment and active bent. It becomes more passive, like a receptacle. Everything comes to it. This is an important transition, for usually we exert a lot of effort to pay attention, and letting go and just being feels scary. I always thought before that I would miss seeing something if I did not actively look. But I saw that I only created strain this way, and also this active awareness is really more paranoia than anything else. When I let go, and trust that awareness is naturally there and I don’t have to make an effort, awareness becomes bigger, brighter, and easier. It’s like seeing everything, being aware of everything at the same time, effortlessly. It’s like a panoramic view, but not from above, nor from any direction. It’s like awareness is everywhere, and nothing is missed or overlooked. There is no concern or fear of missing something.
All kinds of experiences happen. Many new regions and spaces of the mind. Deep spaces, empty spaces, spacious spaces, soft spaces, dark spaces, light spaces, joyous spaces. The space itself, like stillness, becomes the object of awareness, and awareness goes deeper and deeper into it. Sometimes there is an uninterrupted space of stillness, or openness, without thoughts or feelings or any kind of content. It’s like a totally empty sky. Yet, slowly I discover that there is something like an atmosphere when the experience is happening. This atmosphere somehow colors the experience, gives it a certain flavor, which is reminiscent of myself. This insight cuts through the mental atmosphere and more openness manifests. Awareness becomes sharper, brighter. There is a feeling of less crowdedness, as if the atmosphere got thinner and lighter. I learn that such mental atmospheres are the action of concepts. I view reality through certain concepts. That’s what I have been doing all my life, and so has everybody else. We always experience reality through the filter of our concepts of reality. Even when thoughts, feelings, and sensations subside there remains the conceptual atmosphere through which I look at reality. It’s like instead of reflecting reality in a clear mirror, I do so using a colored mirror; so I believe that reality has that color instead of seeing that it is my mirror that is colored.
At superficial levels the concepts are in words and thought. Awareness can see through these easily. However, on subtler levels there are mental concepts without even thoughts. They are beliefs about reality taken as aspects of reality, so they become imperceptible. They are very subtle for they are all-pervading. It’s like being in a colored atmosphere that colors everything in it with the same color, including me. So I naturally believe that this color is an aspect of reality. There is no way to discriminate this color, this concept, this filter. The result is that reality is not seen directly, perception is still veiled. Reality is still not totally naked.
Here prajna, or intuitive awareness starts to develop. It is like a light that pierces through these concepts. Prajna is sometimes called discriminating wisdom, for it has the capacity to discriminate those subtle concepts that veil what is. Development of prajna is really the aim of Vipassana. Here, real insight starts to mature. It is no longer insight into the dynamics of the personality. It is insight into the nature of reality and the nature of consciousness. Gradually prajna cuts through these concepts, like the sword of Manjusri cutting through the veils, revealing reality as it is—naked existence. No coloration, no filtering. It is direct perception. It is the experience of Sunyata, the void.
Void does not mean empty of content like an empty container. It is just what is without the conceptual framework on top of it. It is direct perception without the naming or labeling of reality. It is reality without the presence of ego, without the presence of a center for experience. Experience is totally open—it does not have a center or a boundary. Everything is the same as before except that it is without my prejudices or beliefs. It is itself now.
I am sitting, meditating. Awareness of thoughts and feelings is sharp. A thought or a feeling is seen the moment it arises. It subsides quickly. Awareness intensifies. Not a thought, regardless of how subtle, escapes it. Yet there is no effort, there is no going after objects of awareness. There is a feeling of tremendous energy in my body that shoots up to the crown of the head. Here I open my eyes. Awareness is intense, clear. No ego is left. Sunyata prevails. There is only what is. Everything in the room looks as if I am seeing it for the first time. It shines with its own essence. Everything is just what it is, and it is totally complete in its nakedness. The lamp is totally packed with lampness. The music is just music, absolutely, and it is beautiful. Everything is as significant as everything else. A drop of water, with its own intrinsic nature, expresses the truth of reality.
A hanging drop
On the verge of extinction
Ready for the infinite
Without expecting
Small and itself
Totally existing
Reality
And reality’s expression.Virgin freshness
Vibrant purity
Here now being
At the door of eternity.
Clear as a crystal
In stillness
Cleansing
The light.
An insignificant drop
Of ordinary water
A mudra
Of realityIt is itself
Yet it is the truth
It is finite
Yet the eye of infinity.Totally empty
Totally full
A fair piece
Of the ineffable.Everything shines with its own suchness. Just naked existence of what is.
Every now and then “I” pops out, creates itself as if out of nowhere and claims the experience. Ego materializes as an identity, as a center. This interrupts the direct perception, and sunyata is no longer pure. It becomes more like interrupted intervals of sunyata, the interruption made by ego popping its head out and saying, “Here I am.” So I start writing.
Everything I think or do is to create an “I” that does not exist. Not that it is better if it did not exist, but that is the reality: “I” does not exist. Reality just is, nothing. If anything, then it is me which prajna alone can cut away. What is left is a thought, or a thought looking at a thought. A feeling. A car driving by.
My friend Ron. I feel I want to tell Ron. It is important for me. So back to me. From sunyata to me.
So, no matter what I say, I will just come back to me, and since me, as “me,” is only a creation of “me,” .... who said that?
So.
This is funny. I want to say that I know what sunyata is, but where? It’s all gone, the moment I have this thought.
Sunyata has an infinite power to free, not to free somebody, but to free freedom from somebody who wants or thinks of freedom.
Ego = self = identity, is the opposite of sunyata.
Sunyata has no limits. Its depth is unimaginable. I won’t say I can’t imagine it, because there is nobody to imagine anything anymore.
It is amusing, this “I” that comes in and out every now and then which seems to claim some sort of right to be here. The thing, friend, is not that it is here or there; it is that there is no you in the first place. So where does this statement come from?!
There is a tendency to glorify, but there is nobody to glorify. There is only glory. Glory is golden with green haloes around it.
There are times when
I am = zero
That has the effect of an atom bomb. Who says so? Ego, of course.
Sunyata is there at the edge of ego, right at the zero edge of identity.
“The ‘I’ seems to have some sort of strength.”
A thought! Another trick of ego.
Sunyata is gone when ego tries to play a trick on itself that it exists.
The interesting thing is that I am not writing this for me; for, frankly speaking, this me does not seem to be.
Trying to capture sunyata, by writing about it, is always at the edge of sunyata and self. It is very tricky. It is very tricky—the moment there is an identity to an action then there is no sunyata.
We must not forget that ego, too, is sunyata, for sunyata is.
Sunyata is important, but not to me personally, for “I” is more of an appearance than anything else. Right now, for instance:
“I” = “Belief that I know sunyata.”
This “I” is mixed up with another bunch of “I”s, all assuming that they exist. And so they create problems. But, in fact, they are problems for nobody. And, in fact, they are not problems. And, in fact, they are not. And, in fact.
In the Heart Sutra, Avaloketisvara tells Shariputra, “Form is emptiness, emptiness is form.” In sunyata, form is empty. It is totally empty of any conceptual significance. No association follows the perception. It is just what it is, nothing. For making it a thing is the function of concepts. On the other hand, each form assumes its full substantiality, becomes full to the brim with itself. So this emptiness is not really empty, it is quite full, but full with its own reality and not what I lay on it. So the bed is full, is packed with bedness. The dark is one hundred percent full with darkness. Each form, because it is empty of concepts, takes the full measure of its nature. The quality of beingness in sunyata is of being awake: bodhi. It is not that I am awake. It is more like reality is awake. Everything awakens to its own nature. It is a sense of openness, brightness, naturalness. My eyes are wide open, shiny. My face shines with an inner light, so does everything else. A feeling of total presence, of concreteness. Everything shines and is luminous, yet stays just itself. There are no additions to reality. It is just manifesting its intrinsic nature, now that it is free from the tyranny of my beliefs and concepts about it. Everything lightens up when ego relaxes its grip. Everything wakes up when ego is gone, gate, gate. So the Heart Sutra says: Gate gate, paragate, parasamgate, bodhi, swaha. So be it. -
to share some experiences, with everyday practice it becomes easier and easier to identify the 'guests' (as AEN describes). Not only that, it also becomes easier to identify the conditions that have triggered the thoughts. everything that we get in contact with, every sight, sound, triggers and these guests bring along another one and another one and another one...
the physical sensations are probably always here, just that with attention they can be felt easily.
and agree there that habits even when identified is not easy to overcome thoroughly. the hold of the sense of self is stronger with respect to some of these habits. and this experience led to a realization that the condition for non-dual insight is an open acceptance of these dualistic tendencies. for non-dual and dual are nothing but manifestations of the same source.
something to ponder as this statement flashed when i was reflecting on no-self. 'if there are buddhas, then there is suffering'
-
Nice reply geis :)
Here's something related... in http://awakeningtoreality.blogspot.com/2008/01/ajahn-amaro-on-non-duality-and.html?showComment=1250432118307#c1823799992086523324
-
BTW geis, did you see my private message?
-
Simple experiment to test whether the theory of no-self is true:
Did you remember to breathe?
If you did, can you remember not to breathe?
If you did not, please use a rope to hang yourself and see if you can exist without breathing.
-
???
What has this got to do with the topic?
-
Originally posted by Herzog_Zwei:
Simple experiment to test whether the theory of no-self is true:
Did you remember to breathe?
If you did, can you remember not to breathe?
If you did not, please use a rope to hang yourself and see if you can exist without breathing.
Did you remember to breathe?
Ans - Remembering is unnecessary since breathing is a natural process that happens by itself.
If you did, can you remember not to breathe?
Ans - Irrelevant question. As answered above.
If you did not, please use a rope to hang yourself and see if you can exist without breathing.
Ans - Irrelevant question. As answered above.
-
Originally posted by Jamber:
Did you remember to breathe?
Ans - Remembering is unnecessary since breathing is a natural process that happens by itself.
If you did, can you remember not to breathe?
Ans - Irrelevant question. As answered above.
If you did not, please use a rope to hang yourself and see if you can exist without breathing.
Ans - Irrelevant question. As answered above.
Good answer!
-
Originally posted by Jamber:
Did you remember to breathe?
Ans - Remembering is unnecessary since breathing is a natural process that happens by itself.
If you did, can you remember not to breathe?
Ans - Irrelevant question. As answered above.
If you did not, please use a rope to hang yourself and see if you can exist without breathing.
Ans - Irrelevant question. As answered above.
If so, how about I give you a scare and see if you can remember to breathe? -
Originally posted by Herzog_Zwei:
If so, how about I give you a scare and see if you can remember to breathe?dear Herzog_Zwei,
breathing is a natural bodily process that goes on without needing to "remember". if the body receive a scare from external environment, like in your example, the heart will naturally beats faster without needing to "remember", the breathing may momentarily lapse for a second or two without needing to "remember", the body may produce cold sweat without needing to "remember", your mouth may be agape with surprise without needing to "remember", ppl may even shit in their pants if the scare is severe enough again without needing to "remember" and so on. its all just natural body reactions to internal and external stimulus, that's all.
similarly, once the effect of the scare has worn off, the reverse of all these bodily process will naturally happen while things normalize back - heart beats slows down, normal breathing resumes, body stops sweating, mouth resumes back normal position, all happening without needing to "remember".
i'm not a biological expert, spiritual expert nor quoting medical books, any buddhist scriptures here. this is just my own simple personal experience while observing my own bodily experience.
i'm interested to hear what your personal experience is? while not quoting from books, beliefs or anything, can you share what your own direct experience is when you observe your own bodily processes?
-
I notice that other than experiencing no-self, sometimes experiencing suffering is also very good...
Because the experience of suffering will force us out of our comfortable identification with our thoughts and skandhas... into a greater realm of freedom and bliss... so suffering becomes a crucial factor in finding freedom. We shouldn't ignore that... suffering isn't bad for it is one of the causes of liberation.
If we are 'blissfully' and ignorantly identified... with our thoughts, feelings, emotions, we can never know the deeper thought-free freedom, clarity, bliss.
Perhaps, that's why, 'dukkha' (suffering) is one of the 3 dharma seals the Buddha asked us to observe.... along with anatta (no self) and anicca (impermanence).
Resting as that pure knowing without identifications.... is so much more blissful than all mundane (but impermanent) joys.
-
观身ä¸�净，苦， 空， æ— å¸¸ï¼Œæ— æˆ‘
-
Originally posted by An Eternal Now:
I notice that other than experiencing no-self, sometimes experiencing suffering is also very good...
Because the experience of suffering will force us out of our comfortable identification with our thoughts and skandhas... into a greater realm of freedom and bliss... so suffering becomes a crucial factor in finding freedom. We shouldn't ignore that... suffering isn't bad for it is one of the causes of liberation.
If we are 'blissfully' and ignorantly identified... with our thoughts, feelings, emotions, we can never know the deeper thought-free freedom, clarity, bliss.
Perhaps, that's why, 'dukkha' (suffering) is one of the 3 dharma seals the Buddha asked us to observe.... along with anatta (no self) and anicca (impermanence).
Resting as that pure knowing without identifications.... is so much more blissful than all mundane (but impermanent) joys.
how long do we need to suffer? and wat do you get for these suffering?
-
You don't have to create suffering for yourself, just notice that the process of clinging, dualistic attraction and aversion, that itself is inherently stressful, unsatisfactory.... if we do not observe that its causing suffering we will continue to grasp. If we clearly perceive its true nature then the letting go is natural, like dropping a hot charcoal is natural when we perceive that its painful.
There is already enough suffering... we just have to recognize suffering as suffering and not cling to them ignorantly.
This article explains the 3 characteristics (impermanence, suffering, no-self) very well... the author is an arhat (liberated, enlightened): http://web.mac.com/danielmingram/iWeb/Daniel%20Ingram%27s%20Dharma%20Blog/The%20Blook/28A35449-618D-4C9B-98EF-D6AF1659B26F.html
-
no one would create suffering for himself
so how long do you need to bear the suffering created by others?
and how should he release the suffering - back to nature? the one who created it?
-
Originally posted by seyKai:
no one would create suffering for himself
so how long do you need to bear the suffering created by others?
and how should he release the suffering - back to nature? the one who created it?
No suffering is truly created by others... suffering comes from the sense of self. Without that sense of self, that dualistic split between subject and object, self and others, there will not be conflict and suffering.
We release suffering by observing Impermanence, Suffering, No-Self in real time experience, which means moment to moment sensate reality... as precisely as possible with deep mindfulness.
-
Originally posted by An Eternal Now:
No suffering is truly created by others... suffering comes from the sense of self. Without that sense of self, that dualistic split between subject and object, self and others, there will not be conflict and suffering.
We release suffering by observing Impermanence, Suffering, No-Self in real time experience, which means moment to moment sensate reality... as precisely as possible with deep mindfulness.
you mean if someone hurt you, you created the suffering?
-
Originally posted by seyKai:
you mean if someone hurt you, you created the suffering?
Not 'you' create the suffering, but the suffering arises through the sense of self.
The sense of self is not really a self, it is an illusion but it is the condition for suffering to manifest. Without that there is no suffering.
When we practice we will eventually realise there is no findable self anywhere in our experience or behind our experience... and the clinging to a self is dropped, and suffering is thus released.
Without the notion 'I am', there is nobody to get hurt.
-
Originally posted by An Eternal Now:
Not 'you' create the suffering, but the suffering arises through the sense of self.
The sense of self is not really a self, but it is the condition for suffering to manifest. Without that there is no suffering.
i think a man without conscience and no feeling can only let the suffering not to manifest. without feeling how do u find happiness?without a self, then wat are we here for? even if u wan to help others, u still need to be existence
-
Originally posted by seyKai:
i think a man without conscience and no feeling can only let the suffering not to manifest. without feeling how do u find happiness?without a self, then wat are we here for? even if u wan to help others, u still need to be existence
The joy and bliss found in the clarity free from all identifications is far more than you can ever imagine, you will have to experience it to know what I'm talking about. It is a bliss that is free from passions, it is unconditioned and not subject to arising and passing unlike mundane pleasures.
It is the bliss of not feeling but awareness, which is that which knows all feelings and thoughts yet isn't separate from them.
There never was a self, but that does not impede (but rather strengthens) compassion for all sentient beings equally, to guide others to liberation. This is the way of the Bodhisattva.
Without letting go of the notion of self, there will not be liberation from sufferings.
-
no self, no idenfication? can man live on water alone?
How does one get freedom from likes and dislikes?
Right now as my brain is wired, i like all happy events and I like avoiding unpleasant events.
Here's a related sutta by the Buddha which you may want to look into: http://www.accesstoinsight.org/tipitaka/an/an08/an08.006.than.html
Hi Buddha Bra,
You may also want to try the natural way of ‘letting whatever arises to manifest openly and unreservedly ’. For one that has experienced the non-duality of observer and observed and taste the sensate reality free from the sense of self, the way of ‘let manifest’ is a natural progression.
In order to do that, deeply understand that there are more problems when attempting to suppress your preferences, likes and dislikes. Therefore the first step is to experience and realize that ‘suppression’ is not the way. If we think that ‘suppression’ is way or when the arising upsets us, then unknowingly we will attempt to prevent their arising.
Second, understand clearly that letting “likes and dislikes” manifest is the first step towards liberation. We cannot prevent what that is hardwired from arising. As long as the seed is there, there will be manifestation. We may not be aware of these tendencies when they are latent but “let manifest” is the first step towards freedom.
Third, non-dual with whatever sensations that arise. When the sense of observer is gone and uninterrupted, that is the sense of freedom. It will also dissolve those tendencies eventually as all share the same taste.