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cattasallaTonight I finished the final night of Gil Fronsdal's latest concentration series, which is the fifth week of talks he has been giving on Wednesdays. And tonight he said something that struck a chord, because it resonates with how my practice has been unfolding the last few weeks: Getting to samādhi--to that attentive stillness so often referred to as "concentration" in translations--is not about engineering the right technique, but about love for the state.
When I reach a certain level of stillness, there's this indescribable sense of joy and well-being that takes over. Sometimes it's quite palpable as this sort of excited interest. Other times it's simply being very delighted to be present, with a clear mind, with no desire whatsoever to do anything other than sit there and watch the breath. It's this perfect contentment, and it sustains itself through the simple enjoyment, because I feel no interest in moving or changing or anything. And I've discovered that I quite love it. I am growing to even love it more than a lot of the other, coarser, sensual pleasures available in life! (Not enough to give them up, of course, but enough that their hold on me is weakened...)
And that enables me to get to it. Nowadays, a lot of the time when I get the desire to end the meditation session, to get up and move, when I get frustrated and tense and want to do something else, I remind myself how good it feels to get still. What a wonderful feeling that is, and how I can only get it if I continue sitting. Sometimes that's even enough to bring it on!
I think it would be mistake to say there's no "engineering" or technique involved. To be able to consistently reach those states of stillness requires having spent some time learning how my mind works, and to have tried out different techniques at different times. I have a small toolbox of tricks I can pull out to work with my mind, and when one doesn't work I try another. A big part of meditation, and why it's so important to keep at it and have a daily practice, is building up this toolbox. Learning how your mind works, and what you can do to work with it, to get it to do what you want it to. So yes, there's some degree of "engineering" involved.
But that's not enough. You have to not only have that toolbox, but you have to love meditation. You have to fall in love with that state of being, and that has to be the kind of wholesome, gentle, accepting love and not the kind of grasping, possessive feeling that often gets called "love" but is no such thing. Samādhi is not something you can force, not something you can make happen, but if you do the right things with your mind, you can invite it, and it may show up. Of course, it might not show up, and just as you might let a lover have their freedom to come and go as they please, so you have to treat samādhi.
When I reach a certain level of stillness, there's this indescribable sense of joy and well-being that takes over. Sometimes it's quite palpable as this sort of excited interest. Other times it's simply being very delighted to be present, with a clear mind, with no desire whatsoever to do anything other than sit there and watch the breath. It's this perfect contentment, and it sustains itself through the simple enjoyment, because I feel no interest in moving or changing or anything. And I've discovered that I quite love it. I am growing to even love it more than a lot of the other, coarser, sensual pleasures available in life! (Not enough to give them up, of course, but enough that their hold on me is weakened...)
And that enables me to get to it. Nowadays, a lot of the time when I get the desire to end the meditation session, to get up and move, when I get frustrated and tense and want to do something else, I remind myself how good it feels to get still. What a wonderful feeling that is, and how I can only get it if I continue sitting. Sometimes that's even enough to bring it on!
I think it would be mistake to say there's no "engineering" or technique involved. To be able to consistently reach those states of stillness requires having spent some time learning how my mind works, and to have tried out different techniques at different times. I have a small toolbox of tricks I can pull out to work with my mind, and when one doesn't work I try another. A big part of meditation, and why it's so important to keep at it and have a daily practice, is building up this toolbox. Learning how your mind works, and what you can do to work with it, to get it to do what you want it to. So yes, there's some degree of "engineering" involved.
But that's not enough. You have to not only have that toolbox, but you have to love meditation. You have to fall in love with that state of being, and that has to be the kind of wholesome, gentle, accepting love and not the kind of grasping, possessive feeling that often gets called "love" but is no such thing. Samādhi is not something you can force, not something you can make happen, but if you do the right things with your mind, you can invite it, and it may show up. Of course, it might not show up, and just as you might let a lover have their freedom to come and go as they please, so you have to treat samādhi.