2021/03/07

Groundwork | Keeping the Breath in Mind & Lessons in Samādhi

Groundwork | Keeping the Breath in Mind & Lessons in Samādhi:

July 30, 1956

IF, WHEN YOU’RE SITTING, you aren’t yet able to observe the breath, tell yourself, ‘Now I’m going to breathe in. Now I’m going to breathe out.’ In other words, at this stage you’re the one doing the breathing. You’re not letting the breath come in and out as it naturally would. If you can keep this in mind each time you breathe, you’ll soon be able to catch hold of the breath.


In keeping your awareness inside your body, don’t try to imprison it there. In other words, don’t try to force the mind into a trance, don’t try to force the breath or hold it to the point where you feel uncomfortable or confined. You have to let the mind have its freedom. Simply keep watch over it to make sure that it stays separate from its thoughts. If you try to force the breath and pin the mind down, your body is going to feel restricted and you won’t feel at ease in your work. You’ll start hurting here and aching there, and your legs may fall asleep. So just let the mind be its natural self, keeping watch to make sure that it doesn’t slip out after external thoughts.

When we keep the mind from slipping out after its concepts, and concepts from slipping into the mind, it’s like closing our windows and doors to keep dogs, cats, and thieves from slipping into our house. What this means is that we close off our sense doors and don’t pay any attention to the sights that come in by way of the eyes, the sounds that come in by way of the ears, the smells that come in by way of the nose, the tastes that come in by way of the tongue, the tactile sensations that come in by way of the body, and the preoccupations that come in by way of the mind. We have to cut off all the perceptions and concepts—good or bad, old or new—that come in by way of these doors.

Cutting off concepts like this doesn’t mean that we stop thinking. It simply means that we bring our thinking inside to put it to good use by observing and evaluating the theme of our meditation. If we put our mind to work in this way, we won’t be doing any harm to ourself or to our mind. Actually, our mind tends to be working all the time, but the work it gets involved in is usually a lot of nonsense, a lot of fuss and bother without any real substance. So we have to find work of real value for it to do—something that won’t harm it, something really worth doing. This is why we’re doing breath meditation, focusing on our breathing, focusing on our mind. Put aside all your other work and be intent on doing just this and nothing else. This is the sort of attitude you need when you meditate.

The hindrances that come from our concepts of past and future are like weeds growing in our field. They steal all the nutrients from the soil so that our crops won’t have anything to feed on and they make the place look like a mess. They’re of no use at all except as food for the cows and other animals that come wandering through. If you let your field get filled with weeds this way, your crops won’t be able to grow. In the same way, if you don’t clear your mind of its preoccupation with concepts, you won’t be able to make your heart pure. Concepts are food only for the ignorant people who think they’re delicious, but sages don’t eat them at all.

The five hindrances—sensual desire, ill will, torpor & lethargy, restlessness & anxiety, and uncertainty—are like different kinds of weeds. Restlessness & anxiety is probably the most poisonous of the lot, because it makes us distracted, unsettled, and anxious all at the same time. It’s the kind of weed with thorns and sharp-edged leaves. If you run into it, you’re going to end up with a stinging rash all over your body. So if you come across it, destroy it. Don’t let it grow in your field at all.

Breath meditation—keeping the breath steadily in mind—is the best method the Buddha taught for wiping out these hindrances. We use directed thought to focus on the breath, and evaluation to adjust it. Directed thought is like a plow; evaluation, like a harrow. If we keep plowing and harrowing our field, weeds won’t have a chance to grow, and our crops are sure to prosper and bear abundant fruit.

The field here is our body. If we put a lot of thought and evaluation into our breathing, the four properties of the body will be balanced and at peace. The body will be healthy and strong, the mind relaxed and wide open, free from hindrances.

When you’ve got your field cleared and leveled like this, the crops of your mind—the qualities of the Buddha, Dhamma, and Sangha—are sure to prosper. As soon as you bring the mind to the breath, you’ll feel a sense of rapture and refreshment. The four bases of success (iddhipāda)—the desire to practice, persistence in the practice, intentness, and circumspection in your practice—will develop step by step. These four qualities are like the four legs of a table that keep it stable and upright. They’re a form of power that supports our strength and our progress to higher levels.

To make another comparison, these four qualities are like the ingredients in a health tonic. Whoever takes this tonic will have a long life. If you want to die, you don’t have to take it, but if you don’t want to die, you have to take a lot. The more you take it, the faster the diseases in your mind will disappear. In other words, your defilements will die. So if you know that your mind has a lot of diseases, this is the tonic for you.