Category Archives: Meditation

Meditation 10: Mahasi Vipassana (or The Art of Noting) – Part 1

And when my mind is wandering,

Mono_pensador

there I will go.
And it really doesn’t matter
if I’m wrong, 
I’m right where I belong.
(from ‘Fixing a Hole’ by John Lennon and Paul McCartney)

I like my meditation practice to be simple and yet usually, I also like to have some kind of structure.  The hope being that this structure might just help to reduce the wanderings of my restless mind into those places that lie just beyond my field of conscious observation.  Developed by the influential Burmese Buddhist monk Mahasi Sayadaw (1904 – 1982), this particular method of Insight meditation provides the structure needed to aid concentration and awareness with each passing moment.

My intention here is only to provide a brief overview, based on my own experience and interpretation, of the practical elements of this technique and as such I will not be discussing it within the original Theravada Buddhist context.  If what follows is of interest to you then I must recommend that you seek further, and more expert, advice – ideally in person (such as on a retreat) or via a website or book.  It is highly likely that this advice will come in the form of Buddhist teaching, however there is no need to be Buddhist or subscribe to Buddhist doctrine to partake and enjoy the benefits.  A couple of recommendations that I offer are this article, which is a translated transcript of an instructional talk by Mahasi Sayadaw and the retreat centre where I was taught to ‘note’, Satipanya – on the Shropshire/ Welsh border, run by Bante Bodhidhamma (who also leads regular retreats at Gaia House in Devon).

Okay, so with the passing of that all too brief introduction – owing as it does to the referencing of more detailed sources – I will get right on to my semi-instructional account of Mahasi Vippassana, or as I prefer to call it – Noting Meditation.

Noting – well what is it anyway?

The most popular form of meditation in the UK at the moment seems to be that of concentrating on the breath, which I believe (in the Buddhist tradition) is a form of Samatha.  The idea seems to be that this develops ones powers of concentration between each passing moment, with additional benefits arising out of this.  While Noting Meditation does incorporate a significant amount of breath focus, it also allows the mind to roam by switching the meditator’s attention to the object of the minds wandering.

Most other forms of meditation teach that it is best to avoid language, or any intentional mental formations, and to instead just experience each moment as it is.  There are good reasons for this but it can be difficult to maintain – I for one need an anchor.  Noting breaks from this convention by allowing the use of words to identify (note) and maintain concentration on experience, although one must be careful to select words that are least likely to lead off into unhelpful mental ruminations.

Posture

When meditating I tend to sit cross legged in the formal, and perhaps poncy looking Burmese style – but I do not feel that this is an imperative, as I will discuss in the part 2, noting can be employed in pretty much any situation.   Although the predominant school of thought teaches that sitting cross legged enables the greatest level of concentration and alertness, there have already been several discussions here arguing the merits, or lack thereof, of such a view.  I would personally say that if you already sit cross legged for meditation then continue to do so, but if you prefer to sit in a chair, stand or even lie down then these techniques will still be easy to follow.  The important thing is that you can be safe, comfortable and able to maintain a good level of focus – it’s not easy to do this when you are asleep.

How do I note?

Once you are in your preferred posture it is a good idea to try and settle the mind – again if you already have a routine for this, such as a body scan, then stick with that.  If not then you can begin noting right away.  Perhaps begin with a couple of deep breaths and then start noting the word ‘sitting’ or ‘standing’ or whatever word best describes your chosen position.

By ‘noting’ what I mean is to repeat your chosen word over and over again – this should be internal, there is no need to audibly vocalize.  The word, however, is only a tool by which to frame your experience, so at this point just feel what it is like to sit or stand.  As you are repeating the word (sitting, sitting, sitting… standing, standing, standing) also experience the physical sensation of sitting (or standing) as a whole activity  – at this point we are only settling and focusing the mind.

After a few minutes transfer your focus to the breath, where it will remain for a while before allowing your mind a little more freedom.  As you breathe hold your attention at the abdomen, feeling how it rises with the in-breath and falls with the out-breath.  As the abdomen rises note ‘rising… rising… rising’, and as the abdomen falls note ‘falling… falling… falling’.  As with many other forms of meditation the idea here is not to take control but to experience each breath as it comes.  I would recommend trying to maintain this intentional, Samatha style concentration for around 5 – 10 minutes, the purpose being to nurture a basic level of focus and provide a platform from which the attention can start from and return to as necessary.  So, for this first period just gently bring your attention back to the abdomen each time that it wanders.

After 5 -10 minutes you should be ready to gently release some of the slack from those mental reigns.  Continue to focus on the breath, but now if the mind is stimulated by a distraction change your noting word appropriately.  The word that I would choose depends on the nature of the distraction and I will discuss some possibilities below.

Before I continue, it is worth saying a little about how often one should keep the focus on any given experience.  Some sources say that one should keep the focus where it is, until the distraction has passed.  For example if it is a sound – a dog barking for instance – then one might repeat the word; ‘sound… sound… sound…’ until either the noise has ceased or it has no longer become the main focus of attention.  If the noise has ceased and there is nothing else to grab your attention then return to the breath.  If there is something that muscles in on your focus then make this the object of the noting.

Other sources that I have come across suggest a slightly different approach, where by one notes the distraction in between breaths.  With the example of the barking dog that might go a little like this; ‘rising… rising… rising… falling… falling… falling… sound… rising… rising… rising… falling… falling…’ and so on.

I tend to use a combination of both depending on how pervasive the distraction is and how high my levels of concentration are at the time.  If they are high I might stay with the sound but if they are low and I am regularly wandering without any particular point of focus then I will incorporate the breath as a helpful foothold.

Which Words Should I Use?

As mentioned above it is important that any words used are as neutral and free from judgement as possible, they should be single words and not preceded or followed by any intentional embellishment.  If your face is itching then the word should just be ‘itching’, not ‘face itching’ and certainly not ‘my face is itching’.  You should not be attempting to imagine a face itching or an abdomen rising or a dog barking – although that will happen – rather one is only trying to experience these things as they occur.  The purpose of noting words are not to describe or add to what is happening but rather to assist us in our mindful observations.

The amount of possible distractions is practically infinite and it is not possible to suggest words for each and every eventuality.  Instead I will briefly discuss what I think are the three main categories of distraction Physical, Cognitive and Emotional.

Physical:

For me it is the physical events that are easiest to identify and it is here that I spend most of my time.  I also think that it is the physical occurrences that are easiest to note.  Here are the most common (or perhaps obvious) sensations with examples of words that I use in my practice:

  1. Itching.  I use the word ‘itching’, as discussed above.
  2. Pins and needles.  Usually it’s ‘tingling’ although this might alter with varying intensities.
  3. Pain.  I tend not to refer to it as ‘pain’, which I think has negative connotations. Instead I will note the type of pain – so it might be ‘sharp’, ‘tight’ or some such identification.
  4. Temperature.  Again this depends on what the temperature is, so it could be ‘cool’, ‘warm’, ‘hot’ or ‘cold’.

There are many other, more subtle physical sensations that will arise, such as the sensation of the hands touching each other or the feet touching the floor.  The key word here is touching – as the attention if focused on the hands resting against each other the noting word ‘touching’ can be used.

Cognitive:

Cognitive distractions are very common in my practice and are the ones that lead inevitably away from the mindfulness that I am trying to nurture.  My method of noting thoughts is very simple but it can be more complicated if you wish.  For a more detailed account of how to note various cognitive thoughts you can probably not go too far wrong than referring here, to Mahasi Sayadaw himself.

Rather than analyse the type of thought too deeply I only note the very basic characteristics.  This might just be a word such as ‘thinking’, ‘planning’, or ‘remembering’.  I think that it’s here where it may be easiest to fall into the trap of feeding – rather than being mindful of – an over-active imagination, which is why I like to keep the words very simple and nondescript.  If done effectively the very act of noting will stop the train of thought in its tracks and one can return their focus to the breath, or whatever object happens to tickle our restless fancy.

Emotion:

I find emotion very difficult to identify while I am meditating, unless it happens to be quite strong.  More often than not, however, my emotions are very subtle and do not grab my attention.  When they do it is usually a response to some kind of cognitive activity like anticipating an exam or remembering doing something well, the former might make me anxious and the latter happy – both of which would also be my noting words.

There are of course, a huge array of emotions, some highly intrusive and many understated.   I imagine that with experience one can become able to note many emotions with ease but until this happens automatically I do not think that it is a good idea to spend time searching  – only note what comes to the surface, of it’s own accord.

I like this technique a lot – it is the one that I use most often.  I like the relative freedom that it affords but I also like the structure it enables – with this method, what might be considered distractions can be transformed into phenomena on which we can meditate.  However there is a slight paradox here:  in order to develop mindfulness, which supposedly exists before our brains create their mental formations, we are using a kind of mental formation.  It is helpful then, to consider this technique as a stepping stone from which the active process of ‘noting’ can gradually be dropped.  I would also suggest that this technique is used in conjunction with other styles (not necessarily at the same time), although this is only my personal view.

Noting is not only for use in formal meditation and Part 2 will discuss how this technique can be useful and rewarding in almost any situation – from opening a door to cleaning a toilet.

Meditation 9: The hindrance of ill-will

Ill-will, or hatred, is not that different from sense-desire really. It’s just positive desire turned the other way round so as to reject someone or something. Just as there’s an incremental progression from sense-desire to love, there’s a similar progression from hatred to wisdom. You don’t have to be an obviously hate-filled person to come across ill-will as a hindrance in meditation, just have a critical tendency which leads you to dwell in a slightly obsessive or unbalanced way on what’s wrong and ought to be put right.

So, having distanced myself slightly from stereotypes of hatred, I’m now able to admit that ill-will is my biggest hindrance. In my case it consists almost entirely of sitting in meditation thinking of things I should have said, or might say, to people so as to show they’re not entirely correct about things. For a long time, my experience of trying to practise the Middle Way has often consisted of having  subtle arguments with both sides representing the extremes instead of just one side – which is sometimes conducive to a bit of a siege mentality. Perhaps it’s only since the society started that I’m beginning to find it easier to think primarily of the Middle Way as offering something positive: but I’m aware that I still have a tendency to over-emphasise the negative.

One way of trying to manage ill-will is just to reflect that the object of your aversion has too much power over you. Your aversion itself doesn’t want that, so the energy it consists in may thereby be directed into less obsessive channels. After all, if you hate something, or someone, why are they worth so much attention? In fact, giving that b*****d so much emotional energy (whoever it is) is a lot more than he’s worth! That’s one reason why, if you hate God, strong agnosticism is a much more effective way of “getting your own back on him” than atheism or anti-theism. People who hate God tend to spend a lot of time thinking about him, and in the process give him a lot more reality. Aversion taken to a rational conclusion tends to lead you into wisdom, where you start criticising your beliefs about the hated object rather than just the object. Nevertheless, subtler forms of hatred may still hang around such an intellectualisation, and you tend to discover these when you meditate.Angry_woman Lara 604

Another relatively effective approach to ill-will in my experience is merely to focus on one’s physical experience. Hatred (especially in the form of anger) has a very narrow mental focus, and just remembering that you have a breathing, feeling body can take you a long way out of it. That’s obviously why taking deep breaths is a popular way of controlling anger.

Alternatively, you can reflect on the object of your ill-will so as to give that object a wider meaning than the narrow one you are probably obsessed with. When we hate someone, we tend to think of them only in one sort of situation, having one sort of characteristic, or saying one sort of thing. We focus narrowly on a particular experience we may have had of that person, even though we may have experienced other aspects – or, if not, can at least imagine them. The Buddhist metta bhavana  (cultivation of loving-kindness) works in this sort of way to get you to expand the meaning of your ‘enemy’. So, instead of thinking of your evil boss in the office being odious, you can imagine him on the beach throwing a ball back and forth to his children, or taking his dog  for a walk on a spacious wind-blown hill. My own experience is that if I am wrapped up in ill-will I am unlikely to be able to focus on such visualisations, but they may work better for some other people.

Whatever approach you find works best, the underlying point seems to be that ill-will is just energy following habitual channels. For the moment, it’s your ill-will, in the sense that you need to do something about it rather than projecting it onto others. No, it’s not his or hers – they didn’t “make you angry” – it’s yours! There may be a genuine problem out there, but ill-will won’t help you to resolve it.  However, in the longer term the ill-will is not even yours: it’s just the direction your energies have taken. You can take them somewhere else. If more direct approaches don’t work, use more indirect ones. Stop meditating and go for a walk. Keep walking until you actually start experiencing the trees and the bird-song instead of hatred.

Picture: Angry woman by Lara 604 (Wikimedia Commons)

The MWS Podcast: Episode 16, Vishvapani Blomfield

In this episode the broadcaster, writer and mindfulness trainer Vishvapani Blomfield talks to us about mindfulness and the Middle Way both in terms of how he sees them being approached from a more secular or a more religious perspective. He also talks about enlightenment, Jung and integration, the relationship of the Middle Way with the arts, incrementality and his agnostic position on karma and rebirth.


MWS Podcast 16: Vishvapani Blomfield as audio only:
Download audio: MWS_Podcast_16_Vishvapani_Blomfield

Previous podcasts:

Episode 15: Lesley Jeffries and Jim O’Driscoll, the founders of Language in Conflict
Episode 14: The writer and journalist Mark Vernon on agnosticism.
Episode 13: Robert M. Ellis on his life and why he formed the Middle Way Society.
Episode 12: Paul Gilbert on Compassion Focused Therapy
Episode 11: Monica Garvey on Family Mediation
Episode 10: Emilie Åberg on horticultural therapy, agnosticism, the Quakers and awe.
Episode 9: T’ai Chi instructor John Bolwell gives an overview of this popular martial art.
Episode 8: Peter Goble on his career as a nurse and his work as a Buddhist Chaplain.
Episode 7: The author Stephen Batchelor on his work with photography and collage.
Episode 6: Iain McGilchrist, author of the Master and his Emissary.
Episode 5: Julian Adkins on introducing MWP to his meditation group in Edinburgh
Episode 4: Daren Dewitt on Nonviolent communiction.
Episode 3: Vidyamala Burch on her new book “Mindfulness for Health”.
Episode 2: Norma Smith on why she joined the society, art, agnosticism and metaphor.
Episode 1: Robert M. Ellis on critical thinking.

Meditation 8: and gender.

 

alarm clock

I woke from sleep in the early morning hours recently, and my first conscious thought consisted of the word “provisionality”.  It was as prominent as if a banner with the word had been hoisted across the foot of my bed.  And I knew at once why it was there, and what it meant.
A few hours earlier I’d been struggling unsuccessfully to draft an article on meditation for this blog.  This unannounced and unexpected banner-headline in the quiet of my bedroom, in the dark, turned a searchlight on my struggle, and resolved it.

While I was sitting in front of my monitor, I couldn’t put into words the conflict I was experiencing about Robert’s intelligent disquisition on the hindrances to meditation, which seemed to reflect the kind of stuff I’ve read before in Buddhist tracts and articles about how arduous and difficult meditation is, but worthwhile for the ultimate reward of solitary ecstasy .  They all have that hallmark of the experience of robed sitting by people, almost exclusively men, who – by sitting in meditation for many years and by assiduous effort, overcoming formidable obstacles and hindrances – have reached the pinnacle of spiritual attainment, personal enlightenment.

monk teaching westerner to meditate

  How could I question that?  Yet I still do, insistently.

Let me return to my sudden waking up, and set aside the conflict for a moment, though I think they’re linked somehow.  Maybe that’s my inner philosopher in me speaking, with new-found confidence, and in a softer, more open and provisional style.

What follows is a rather crude and simplistic comparison of two approaches to meditation, devised by me, and based on my own experience of, observation of, and talking with women, especially nurses, but also Buddhist women, and of women in Africa, where lifestyle is still quite other than here in the developed Northern hemisphere (still curiously referred to as ‘the West’).

‘Male ‘model of meditation and principles of practice

monks meditating

Emphasises physical stillness in a prescribed erect sitting posture, eyes closed to shut out worldly distractions.

More or less totally (and deliberately) divorced from all forms of common worldly activity or engagement with other people e.g. social or family relationships, childcare, sexuality, work (including housework and gardening or growing crops), play, leisure, celebration, contingent events etc.

Performed in complete silence, often regards sound as a distraction or as contamination.

Solitary practice encouraged, group meditation takes care to exclude the possibility of any physical contact by meditators.

Oriented to personal achievement of bliss, ascending hierarchy of attainment (simile: climbing a lofty mountain, leaving the world and its cares far below).

Highly structured, elaborately detailed, concept-laden and often ‘scripted’ technique to be followed, rigour recommended.

Narrow focus of attention, discipline and effort prized.

Body regarded as vehicle for mind, used instrumentally, often seen as source of undesirable distraction from mind (Body-Mind dualism).

Teaching (on technique and to provide ideological buttressing) originated, articulated, controlled and directed (almost exclusively) by men.

Women’s voices and unique experience marginalised.

‘Female’ model of meditation and principles of practice

feng shui

Allows and promotes activity and movement, spontaneous and  purposive, open to the world and embraces it, eyes open.

Integrates short, naturally occuring periods of stillness, silence and relaxed, comfortable repose (no imposed postural requirements) with activities of daily living, and seamlessly in relationship with other people (specially attentive to children, the elderly, or animals), on an emergent basis as life unfolds.

child care

Encourages and welcomes togetherness, especially the company of other women.

Characterised by shared conversation, or singing/crooning, and comfortable shared silence, especially when  carrying out shared activities (household tasks, cultivating gardens, fetching water or firewood, weaving or sewing, pounding or sieving grains, community cooking,

women cooking nshima

reciprocal grooming like hair plaiting, manicure etc).

Oriented to cooperative, cohesive and collective purposes.

Uncontrivedly self-effacing and ‘unselfish’.

Body-mind understood in ‘wholistic’ terms, expressed as an intuitive apprehending of feelings, and understanding sensations as metaphors of influence and meaning, a naturalistic and concept-free ‘integration of desires’.

Wide focus of attention, open to the whole visual (and aural and osmic) field, while (like a bird) able to pick up particular detail. (‘without stirring from the unity of self-refreshing pristine awareness, the details of experience are clearly differentiated without being contrived’ [Longchenpa])*

Uncontrived: elaborate conceptual expressions of technique and ideological underpinnings for meditation experienced as redundant, at variance with women’s experience, and ironically referred to as  “typically male” or in other earthy, bawdy terms…..!)

Teachings shared informally, in light jests or personal anecdotes, by story-telling, in songs or poems, in pictures, or by clothing, body adornments, experiment and innovation in make-up and hair-styling,

plaiting hair 1

through the positioning and re-arrangement of household articles, artefacts, flowers or elemental things (feng shui).

arranging flowers

Women will share generously and with no expectation of reward or desire for acclaim or special ‘recognition’.

Men only have to notice that they are there, and that their contribution to meditation practice, although divergent, is of equal value to mens’.

 colourful women

* Quoted from Longchenpa, You Are the Eyes of the World, translated by Lipman K, Peterson M (2000), Snow Lion Publications, New York

Meditation 7: The Hindrance of Sense Desire

The Buddhist tradition has identified five types of hindrances that get in our way when trying to practise meditation: sense-desire, ill-will, restlessness and anxiety, sloth and torpor, and doubt. The point of this list is to help people identify particular kinds of appropriate remedies for the kinds of problems they might meet in meditation. However, this list is also very useful beyond formal meditation, as the five hindrances could also analyse the kinds of distraction that stop us attending to any focused activity. For the next five of my contributions to this meditation series, I’ve decided to focus on each of these hindrances in turn, and particularly to explore the remedies recommended for each of the types of hindrance, assessing whether they seem to work. As always, I have only my own experience to go on, and will be glad to hear others’ perspectives in comments.Fantin_Latour_The_Temptation_of_St_Anthony

Sense-desire (or ‘greed’) is perhaps the classic caricature of a hindrance. When someone is seriously distracted, we might easily imagine that they were having a sexual fantasy, or drooling in anticipation over their lunch. The numerous depictions of the temptations of St Anthony in Western art (such as this one by Fantin Latour) show this caricature. In my experience, however, this kind of caricature of sense-desire is fairly rare in practice. When they have sat down to meditate, most people don’t immediately go into something quite as obviously irrelevant and self-indulgent as a sexual fantasy. The kinds of sense-desire we’re actually more likely to meet are more subtle and more likely to sneak in looking initially a bit like part of the meditation. Perhaps we anticipate the approval of the person leading a meditation class, or return to some activity we have been doing regularly in recent hours, such an engrossing novel, a film, a game, or a conversation.

Sense-desire, like the other hindrances, seems to be just a matter of habit. If you don’t spend your days having non-stop sexual fantasies, then you’re not too likely to start when you meditate. If, however, you are very used to being stimulated by a particular kind of experience and responding to it – whether that’s a colleague’s words, an idea in your mind, your Facebook messages, or whatever – when you withdraw that stimulation your mind will carry on with the habitual response regardless. But these habits then get into conflict with the part of you that wants to meditate.

How can we resolve such conflicts? Traditional Buddhist sources give five kinds of possible response, which are explained very well in Kamalashila’s excellent book Meditation. These are:

  • Cultivating the opposite quality and/or re-directing the energy
  • Considering the consequences of indulging the hindrance
  • Sky-like mind (observing passively)
  • Suppression
  • Work on changing habits outside meditation (e.g. being less self-indulgent)

These are all possible strategies, and I wouldn’t want to rule any of them out. However, suppression (which needs to be distinguished from repression) is a relatively uninteresting one that’s less easy to reconcile with balanced effort (see previous post). Changing your habits outside meditation is also too big a topic to tackle here, so I’m going to focus on the first three.

Cultivating the opposite strikes me as a classic Middle Way strategy, as long as you interpret it as reminding yourself about the opposite perspective and making it meaningful, rather than reacting against your hindrance merely to adopt the opposite extreme. The opposite of sense-desire is ill-will, but you only need to cultivate it to the same extent as your hindrance if you want to avoid over-shooting the mark. So, for example, if you keep thinking about that novel you’re engrossed in, cultivating the opposite might mean, not thinking how much you hate the novel (which would be rather forced, to say the least), but rather what might be drawbacks or limitations of it as a pursuit. Very often, this is just about giving yourself a wider perspective.

A more basic way of cultivating the opposite is to think of the ‘opposite’ in direct physical terms, so rather than pursuing a high energy hindrance like sense-desire ‘in your head’ you could concentrate lower in your body to try to connect to more basic experience. This kind of approach fits well with the embodied meaning thesis. In a sense, here, you’re dissolving the metaphors that have become over-important and bringing them back into central experience. Personally, I’d say that this is by far the most successful strategy for me with any kind of obsessive, high-energy hindrance.

Considering the consequences works less well for me. It involves thinking through what will happen if you carry on with this hindrance, the patterns that you will help to set up, how it will be harder to change them in future, etc. However, it’s difficult to stop this turning into a Jiminy Cricket superego figure wagging his/her finger at you. It might also distract you from the meditation and lead you down quite different trains of thought involving further conflicts.

The ‘sky-like mind’ option is the zazen-type approach to hindrances. You stand back (as it were) and merely note each passing sense-desire as a cloud in the sky, letting it float off. My experience is that this approach requires you to already be relatively concentrated. If you’re stuck in sense-desire you are unlikely to be able to carry this off. But perhaps it’s a more successful approach deeper into a meditation, when you’re already quite concentrated but a hindrance starts to rekindle. If you have a basis of awareness, it may be possible to just let go in this way.

So, my personal verdict from experience is that breathing low in your body and returning gently to the object of concentration is far more likely to start integrating sense-desire than any other approach. But I’m sure others must have rather different experiences, or the diversity of approaches listed wouldn’t have developed. Also, sense-desire isn’t my main hindrance – ill-will and anxiety tend to loom larger. Those who encounter sense-desire as a major problem may well have a different view of how to approach it.