Mindfulness of Breathing (25) Similes for Samādhi
- Date:
- 2021-02-04
- Speakers:
- Gil Fronsdal [Talks] [@AudioDharma]
- Location:
- Insight Meditation Center [Talks] [@YouTube]
- Generation:
- 2026-10-27 (gemini-3.1-pro-preview) [Prompt Template] [Raw Markdown] [YouTube Video]
- Keywords:
This is an AI-generated transcript from auto-generated subtitles for the video above. It likely contains inaccuracies, especially with speaker attribution if there are multiple speakers.
Mindfulness of Breathing (25) Similes for Samādhi
Introduction
We have taken a little bit of a pause from moving through the next steps of the sixteen steps of mindfulness of breathing (ānāpānasati)[1] to look a little bit more deeply at this particular way in which the mind works: the use of imagination in the mind.
I will talk a little bit more tomorrow specifically about the Buddha's use of this word, "imagination." I have read sometimes people say that there is no Pali[2] word for imagination, but there actually is. It is a little bit of a translator's choice, but I think there is a good argument for the words that have to do with it. They also relate to this idea of self and not-self, which is so important in Buddhism.
For today, pausing to look at imagination is a preparation for next week when we start looking at the mind more carefully and the mental activity that goes on. Creating the right conditions to support investigation and a deeper letting go in the mind is part of the function of these earlier parts of ānāpānasati. The greater the sense of well-being that can come in meditation, the easier it is going to be to really work with the mind.
The Beeswax Simile
I have told this story many times, but I love it. When my son was in kindergarten, once a week they would play with beeswax. When it was time for them to play, they would get the wax from the shelf—usually the form or animal they had made the week before—and it would be hard. Being hard, it would be brittle, and the only thing you could do with it would be to break it. A little animal's legs could be broken off easily enough.
But what they would be instructed to do every week would be to put the piece of wax between the palms of their two hands and just hold it there while the teacher told a story. By the time the story was over, the warmth of their hands had softened the beeswax. Then they could make these beautiful little animal figures. But you had to have the warmth to soften it.
It is the same thing with the mind and the heart. In order to make it into something beautiful, to move it towards freedom, it helps to soften it and warm it up. The good feelings, the calmness, the joy, the happiness, the well-being, the contentment—that we sit in—are all creating the right conditions to begin softening the mind. This helps the mind become more pliable, more flexible, and more malleable in the best possible way, so that the healthy functioning of the mind can operate smoothly and easily.
Helpful vs. Unhelpful Imagination
On the way to doing that, to cultivating these deeper states of well-being that come in meditation, the mind is actually utilized. The mind is always being used to apply attention and to sustain attention, but it can also be supported by imagination. The Buddha uses a lot of similes. Rather than thinking about them as active and intentional uses of imagination when we sit down to meditate, it is more like we learn those similes and internalize them well enough so that they are in the background of the mind. The mind then associates meditation with those similes in a natural way. The similes create a positive orientation that supports us to be present.
It is very easy to have a lot of imagination which is not so helpful. We can carry a lot of unconscious and conscious associations, biases, fears, and projections onto our experience, so that it creates an unhealthy or unsupportive environment for our practice. The simple imagination that, "I'm a lousy meditator, I can never do this," is a kind of imagination. It is a thought that creates a certain atmosphere, which in extreme forms becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. If we are completely preoccupied by the idea that we cannot meditate, then we probably can't because of that preoccupation.
There is also fear. For example: "What is going to happen if I open my heart in meditation? If I relax and really feel what's here?" There might be some good reasons to have caution, but having chronic anxiety and vague, imaginary ideas of what is going to happen is not supportive for the process of deepening in meditation. We have to be wise about that anxiety and caution. We shouldn't feel bad about having it—it is there for a reason—but we want to try to work with it and find another way of being.
When the Buddha offers all these similes, he is seeding in the mind imaginary associations which then begin to create a different atmosphere for what we are doing and what meditation is about. Whether we bring up these imaginations actively, or we just let them sit there in the background, both are supported by really knowing these similes.
The Similes for the Four Jhānas
This comes into particular play with the deepening of concentration, into what are called jhānas[3]. These are deepening states of absorption, really settling in and being present in a clear, continuous way. It feels almost like there is a state shift, where you realize, "Oh, now I'm here. I'm present. It's clear I'm here."
The Buddha doesn't give a lot of prose descriptions of these states, but to really get a feel for what the Buddha is talking about, he provides similes for each of the four absorptions. If you feel your way into them, let them live in your feeling or sense, or almost imagine that you are the simile in some way, then a context is formed. It is an association that awakens something inside of us that isn't just imagination, but rather the felt sense of what the Buddha is pointing to.
Three of these similes for deep states of concentration use water. Often in the symbolism of the Buddha, water represents awareness. We get a sense of how to work with awareness, how to relate to it, or how to notice qualities of awareness as we settle into the practice.
The First Jhāna
The first simile has to do with making dough with flour, where you sprinkle water onto the dough and knead it until all the flour is moist. In the ancient world, it had to do with kneading a certain kind of soap powder into a ball:
"Just as a skilled bath person or a bath person's apprentice heaps bath powder in a metal basin, and sprinkling it gradually with water, kneads it until the moisture wets one's ball of bath powder, soaks it, and pervades it inside and out, yet the ball itself does not ooze; so too, a practitioner makes the joy and happiness born of seclusion drench, steep, fill, and pervade this very body, so that there is no part of one's whole body unpervaded with a joy and happiness born of seclusion."
Here, there are feelings of well-being as we sit in meditation, and then one gently kneads it, massages it, or expands it through the whole body, so no part of the body is not moist with this goodness of joy and happiness. It implies that there is a kind of engagement with the process. You are not just opening and allowing well-being there, but gently, lovingly opening, stretching, and letting it spread through the body. There is active involvement, and the mind is involved in staying present, working with the in-breaths and the out-breaths.
The Second Jhāna
As the mind gets stiller and quieter, there is no more kneading. No more work is needed to stay present, spread anything, or cultivate it.
"Just as though there were a lake whose waters welled up from below, and it has no inflow from east, west, north, or south, and would not be replenished from time to time by showers of rain. Then that cool fount of water flowing up in the lake would make the cool water suffuse, completely fill, and pervade the lake, so there's no part of the whole lake unpervaded by the cool water; in this way, one suffuses, completely fills, and pervades this very body with the joy and happiness born of samādhi[4]. No part of the body is unpervaded with joy and happiness born of samādhi."
The Third Jhāna
The third absorption:
"Just as in a pond of blue, or red, or white lotuses, some lotuses that are born and grow in the water thrive immersed in the water without rising out of it, and cool water suffuses, completely fills, and pervades these lotuses to their tips and their roots, so that there is no part of all these lotuses unpervaded by cool water; so one experiences happiness with the body that the noble ones describe when one abides with the happiness of one who is equanimous and mindful. One suffuses, completely fills, and pervades this very body with happiness. No part of the body is unpervaded with happiness."
So the joy—which is more active and energetic—has stopped, and now it is just happiness.
The Fourth Jhāna
And then the final one:
"Just as though a person were sitting covered from the head down with a white cloth, so that there is no part of one's whole body not enclosed by the white cloth; so one suffuses, completely fills, and pervades this very body with mental purity and mental clarity. No part of the body is unpervaded with mental clarity."
The idea of being surrounded by a clean, white cloth—so no part of the body is untouched by it—suggests there is no outside stimulus anymore. There is no clearly defined body anymore; you can't quite see it, but it's there. It's covered, and there's a softness to it. We go from actively working the joy through the body, to being a very peaceful, quiet lake, to becoming so quiet and still that the body begins to recede. It is very peaceful, safe, quiet, equanimous, and characterized by mental purity, mental clarity, or cleanliness.
Conclusion
This is the closest we get to the Buddha really describing these states of concentration. I don't know if they evoke some imagination for you, but if they do, these are things to take in and internalize. Some people memorize these descriptions, and then they are there in the background for the mind to perfume meditation with associations. This might be a lot better than some of the other ways in which your imagination influences your experience.
Thank you. May your joy and happiness have the opportunity to spread, pervade, and soak your whole body. Don't get so distracted that you don't allow your well-being, happiness, and joy a real chance to be felt and experienced in this body that we have. Until tomorrow, thank you.
Ānāpānasati: A Pali term meaning "mindfulness of breathing," a core meditation practice taught by the Buddha. ↩︎
Pali: The ancient language in which the foundational scriptures of Theravada Buddhism are preserved. ↩︎
Jhāna: Deep states of meditative absorption or concentration characterized by profound stillness, peace, and unified awareness. ↩︎
Samādhi: A state of deep concentration, mental unification, and focus. ↩︎