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Guided Meditation: Teasing Apart

Good evening. Welcome.

So, of course, you guys can't see what I'm seeing here, but we're starting to get ready for being in person, so things are set up here a little bit differently. Looking forward to when we can practice together. And not to worry, we'll continue with the YouTube recordings and offerings also. But I know some of you are local and might like to come to IMC. But a warm welcome to everybody, whether you're local or far away, and whether you're listening to this now or sometime in the future. A warm welcome.

So, we'll start with a little lightly guided meditation.

Taking our seat and just feeling into: what does it feel like right now to be sitting?

There, maybe globally, there's a sense of relief, like, "Oh, okay, I'm just going to be sitting here for the next little while." Or maybe there's some restlessness, like, "Really? Am I really going to sit here for the next little while?" Whatever our experience might be, it's all welcome. It's all welcome. It doesn't have to be one particular way.

It can be helpful to connect with whatever it is we're sitting on. Cushion, bench, chair, couch, bed. Just feeling the pressure against the body.

And then, when we sit and start to settle down a little bit, perhaps the breathing becomes noticeable. It's possible this body breathes, of course it does. Can we, in a kind, gentle way, rest our attention on the sensations of breathing?

Feeling the inhales in the chest or the abdomen, or perhaps feeling the air going in and out of the nose. Feeling the expansion, the stretching with the inhales, or the coolness of the air.

Then, of course, the inhales are interspersed with exhales. How do they feel?

You can focus on just one area if you'd like: the chest, the abdomen, or the nose. Feeling the opposite of expansion, a little bit of deflation, maybe, even though that doesn't sound very inviting. But the air being exchanged and then going out, and just feeling this rhythm: inhale, exhale.

And when the mind wanders, which it naturally will do, just very simply begin again. We don't have to make it a problem. We don't have to make a story out of it. It doesn't have to mean anything in particular. It just means we were lost in thought, and then we begin again.

Nothing in particular needs to be happening. We're just noticing the experiences of breathing, and just allowing the mind to come back when it gets lost in thought.

And you might notice that there is an uncomfortable experience, an uncomfortable sensation. In a relaxed, easy way, can we distinguish, can we tease apart: is there a bodily, physical aspect to the uncomfortable situation, and is there a mental aspect? That is, maybe there's a sharp sensation in the knee, and the mind is starting to think, to make up stories: "I'll never be able to meditate with this sensation. I'll never be able to go on retreat where they sit longer. How do those people sit longer? They must be abnormal or have done it since they were young. And when I was young, we didn't sit in a way that was very flexible, but there was that person that was in third grade that was so flexible, I remember she used to play on the monkey bars all the time and be doing all these things. Wow, do they still have those at schools these days? What would it be like to go play on them? I hope they do, kids should play outside." Right? Here we go.

So there's kind of like the mental aspect and the physical aspect. Can we notice that sometimes the mental aspect leads us off, where I just let us wander off into a fantasy? But sometimes it might be, "I'm damaging my knee, I better shift my posture. I can't believe this. This is terrible. I'll never be able to do it. This is so hard." And we're saying things to ourselves that are just exacerbating or amplifying the uncomfortableness. And to be sure, we need to use wisdom and not sit through pain if we feel like we're harming ourselves. That is not what this practice is about. But when there is some uncomfortableness, can we tease apart, can we separate, can we distinguish the bodily experience from the mental experience?

And then, as best we can, to place our awareness on the bodily experience. It's a little bit more steady, so moving slower than the thoughts. The bodily experience is staying here, this moment.

Maybe the uncomfortable experience is some aversion: "Oh, I really don't want this. Why is this happening?" Can we tease apart, can we distinguish the aversion? And often we have aversion to the aversion, so our reaction to the experience. Can we tease those apart and interrupt the aversion train? Can we just be with the one version of aversion? Of course you have aversion to aversion, it's a natural human response, but we don't have to amplify it.

Making this distinction between bodily experiences and mental experiences, and making the distinction between our reactions and our experiences, enables us to see more clearly what is actually happening, teasing apart some of the different elements. And this way, we can have some more choices about what to do, have some more clarity about what might be the helpful, the skillful thing to do going forward, so that it might support us.

And our having the ability to tease apart different elements to see more clearly, to distinguish, to discern, also helps us to help others. So that we don't get lost in experiences that sometimes can be overwhelming, but instead, to maybe pull out the pieces of where we actually have some control or some choices. So that in this way, our practice of discerning, distinguishing, can be for the benefit not only for ourselves but for others. So may our practice be for the benefit of all beings everywhere.

The Parami of Wisdom

Good evening. Welcome, welcome.

So tonight I'd like to first extend a really warm welcome to everybody, and to continue on the series that I've been doing on the pāramīs^[1]. In the earlier talks, I didn't say that much about the pāramīs in particular, and I'll just say a little bit now.

Pāramī often gets translated as perfections. I like to translate them as perfections of the heart, to emphasize that they're not just one more list of things to memorize, and they're not just gaining more and more knowledge, but to bring all aspects of ourselves, including our hearts. So pāramī can also mean something that's of really high value, like a type of wealth, an inner type of wealth that we all have. But these pāramīs can be cultivated and be developed.

And there's a list of ten of them. Interestingly, in this list of ten, there isn't a meditation in particular. Instead, these are things to do in our everyday lives. So it's not just meditative experiences, although that's included, but it's qualities that we bring to all aspects of our lives. So the list of ten is: generosity, ethical behavior, renunciation, wisdom—so the fourth one, wisdom, is what I'd like to talk about tonight—and then energy, patience, truth, resolve, loving-kindness, and equanimity. I think we can all agree that these are good qualities to have in our lives, whether it's part of your spiritual practice or just part of being a human being, a good parent, a good friend, a good worker, whatever it might be.

So I'd like to just say a little bit about wisdom, which as I mentioned, is the fourth pāramī. Wisdom is how often this word paññā^[2] gets translated. Some other translations for paññā are insight or discernment. And I was thinking about this idea of wise, and we often have this—I don't know where this comes from exactly—but owls are portrayed as wise. And when we think about why, historically or why might we say that owls are wise, it's because they have such big eyes. Their eyes are a dominant feature of owls. And I think this is really appropriate because wisdom in the Buddhist sense, and the way that we're going to talk about it and explore it and develop it, is not about just gaining knowledge. It's not about getting those advanced degrees or reading those books or knowing all the lists. It's not about that. Wisdom is about seeing clearly. This is why the connection with owls with the big eyes—it's about seeing clearly.

And to say that wisdom is the fourth pāramī, that it follows after renunciation, and just at a really high level, there's a few ways that we can understand renunciation. But one is a simplification. Like simplifying, getting rid of the extraneous distractions, things that we don't need that are getting in the way, getting in the way of our living our best life. So one way to think about renunciation is to simplify and to let go of what's not needed.

Another way to think about renunciation is as non-addiction. Joseph Goldstein^[3] says this, and I kind of like it: non-addiction. So that is to notice what are our habits, our habitual behaviors that we're just falling into without thought just because it's what we've always been doing. We might have inherited these habits. And in particular, the Buddha points to notice our habit of always chasing after sensual pleasures: things that taste good, that sound good, that feel good, and somehow kind of insisting that our experience be filled with sensual pleasures, and our annoyance when it isn't. So renunciation is about simplifying and noticing what habits we have, and letting go of those habits that aren't so helpful.

And we could see then how renunciation leads to wisdom. As we start to remove some of the extra, that which isn't essential, then we are able to see more clearly. See more clearly our lives, see more clearly the direction we're going, see more clearly our values, what's important to us, and see more clearly how all of our experiences are made up of different elements. And that gets us to wisdom.

So there's a number of ways we can talk about wisdom, and one is the capacity, the ability, the activity of discerning, or distinguishing, or making distinctions, to kind of tease things apart. So, for example, we might have the experience of thinking that, well, it's time to meditate, or thinking we should meditate, but then also having the idea, "I feel so antsy. Like, there's no way I can meditate." But "antsy," this word, is kind of a vague description. And we might be able to get a little bit quieter or pay a little bit of attention and to see, "Oh yeah, this word antsy, restless, has different elements to it."

It might have this bodily sensation, maybe there's this sense of fidgeting a lot, or there's a sense of the body—I know sometimes when I'm feeling restless or antsy, I just find myself standing up. Like if I'm sitting down, or even if I'm at my desk intending to focus on the task at hand, I just find myself standing up and going to do something else. So there's this energy in the body, perhaps kind of like this movement of wanting to move. Or if not standing up, maybe it's felt as just like ping-pongs bouncing around. So that might be the physical experience.

But then of course there's these mental elements. Maybe there's a sense of just being really distracted, that is, not being able to land on one particular thought or one particular experience, for example, the sensations of breathing. And then we find ourselves starting something and then doing this or that and not finishing, and going to do that, bouncing all over the place, either in meditation or in daily life.

But then if we can pay a little bit more attention even so, after separating the physical and the mental, is there something else that we can see a little bit more clearly? Then we can see, "Oh yeah, there's a sense of feeling worried about something." And that's what's fueling that feeling antsy. So when we notice and name the different elements that are happening or that are comprising our experience, there can be a sense of relief, a sense of like, "Oh, okay, I'm worried. Of course I'm worried. I have to give this big presentation tomorrow, or my loved one is not feeling well," or whatever it might be.

But just being able to tease apart some of the different elements, to name them, can start to bring some clarity and start to make it feel a little bit more manageable. This is so much about mindfulness practice. I think probably many of you already know this, but this is what we consider as kind of wisdom: this ability to pull things apart and see more clearly.

Because the greater the distinctions we make about what's going on, the more choices we have about how we're going to relate to our experience. The example I just gave: being worried. Once we notice we're worried, like, "Oh okay, of course I'm worried." And somehow it takes some of the pressure off that things should be different.

And then there's something else to distinguish, and that is between our experiences with all of its components—being antsy—and our reaction to that experience, our response to it. Every moment there's two things happening: there's what's happening, and then there's our response to what's happening. And to be able to tease those apart also is one way we might think about wisdom.

And so there might be something uncomfortable happening, and then in relationship to that uncomfortable experience, there might be some fear. Might be some aversion, some blame, some anger. And as long as we're focused on the actual experience, we might not be seeing the fear, the blame, the anger that's happening. And to recognize that the experience and the relationship to the experience are two separate things. And as I mentioned in the guided meditation, it's not uncommon to have aversion to things that are uncomfortable, but then to have aversion to the aversion. And then to have the aversion that we have aversion to aversion. So wherever we can disrupt that momentum is helpful.

So just keeping in mind that sometimes it's helpful to pay attention to our reaction to, our response to, our experience, not only our experience. And then that enables us to make different choices. We're not just being carried along by the tumbling momentum of what's happening. So this ability to make some distinctions, to simplify, to tease things apart, is one function of wisdom. And it's not only just so that we can see more clearly, but to see more clearly allows us to make new choices, to respond in different ways, and to respond in ways that are helpful and supportive.

But then there's also another way. There's a number of different ways we might understand wisdom. What I just described is maybe the garden variety that is in our everyday lives, whether we're on the cushion or not. But the Buddha's teaching is unique amongst the great religions of the world in that it emphasizes wisdom. There's a real emphasis on wisdom in this tradition because the Buddha points to ignorance as the deepest root of human suffering. Whenever there's suffering, underneath is ignorance. The ignorance might be really deep in there, but underlying all of suffering is ignorance.

And of course, liberation is ultimately dependent on having some wisdom because wisdom counteracts that ignorance. So this personal insight into the fundamental truth of things is the opposite of ignorance. It's another type of wisdom, this personal insight, this direct experience. It's not a knowledge about something, though having knowledge can help and can be a support, and make it more likely that we will appreciate or help create conditions when insights do arise. But wisdom, as one way we might think about it, is knowledge and vision of things as they are. It's commonly stated that way in the suttas^[4]. And it's having this direct insight into the characteristics of phenomena, the qualities of all our experiences.

But we normally assume that we understand things as they are. I mean, what else is there more to see? I'm here, and there's these objects in front of me, and I'm aware of the experience and my reactions to the experience. I'm aware of my bodily experience and my mental experience. What else is there?

So we normally assume or believe that we know how things are. But Buddhism says that the knowledge that we normally pride ourselves in, about knowing how things are, is usually conceptual knowledge and practical, technical know-how. Different than direct experience, a different type of, like, really knowing something. I think probably all of us in our lives, we understand that people die, that pets die. But it's not until a loved one dies that you really understand what that means, that it takes on a whole different experience, a whole different meaning. So that's what the Buddha is pointing to here, is the experiential knowledge.

Because for Buddhism, this true wisdom—like the deepest wisdom, maybe I should use that word, the deepest, I don't want to say that some wisdom is untrue, but the deepest wisdom—is the absence of greed and craving. The deepest wisdom is the absence of hatred and anger, the absence of pride and conceit. The deepest wisdom is filled with love and compassion, and it's filled with simplicity and contentment, and shows up as humility and selflessness. So for Buddhism, that's kind of the expression of the deepest wisdom.

And so the Buddhist texts sometimes describe ignorance as being like a mist that clouds over our clear seeing, or something that covers or dampens our spiritual lives, or makes us see things in distorted ways. So ignorance is not a terrible... it's just like a covering, something that's obfuscating so that we can't see clearly.

But with wisdom, it's not that we see these great mysterious esoteric secrets. Instead, we see the realities of our own lives, the reality of our own experience here and now. And in fact, some meditators might think that, "Okay, the more mysterious and esoteric their meditative experience is, the better." And sometimes they are led down the wrong path chasing after some meditative experiences. But instead, with wisdom, we see the real nature of just our own experience, the world of day-to-day experiences that usually we aren't seeing. Not because they're so difficult to see, but because we generally don't want to see them. We are constantly trying to hide them from our view in some way, or we're just intentionally not looking at them.

And so what this is, of course, what you can imagine for those of you who are familiar with Buddhist teachings, I'm talking about the three characteristics of experience, the three marks of experience of all phenomena^[5]. So the first mark of experience that we can understand with wisdom, with this penetrative insight, is impermanence: anicca^[6] in Pali. The second is unsatisfactoriness, which is dukkha^[7] in Pali. And then the third one, not-self. There's a number—sometimes people say non-self, no-self, not-self. I'll use not-self. Anatta^[8] is the Pali word.

So, I'm talking a little bit about these three characteristics. Impermanence is listed first. Usually, it's the gateway, it's the door to the other characteristics. Partly because it's the most evident, it's the most obvious. You ask anybody on the street, "Do things change? Do they last forever?" And everybody's going to say, "Of course things change, things don't last forever." You might think that some things last forever, but they'll recognize that things change. We all know this.

But there can be some meditative experiences where there's this understanding of not only that things change and end, but that they're inconstant. That there's kind of like this flickering, this fluttering. That they're not as stable, they're not as solid as we take them to be. They're not as steady as we want them to be. So we are kind of projecting onto them some steadiness because we all want to have this sense of a place which can be safe and secure, a safe harbor, a place where we might rest, a place where everything is like we have it all figured out in some kind of way and we can just rest there.

But with reflection, we understand that everything that is impermanent cannot be a source of lasting happiness. Of course, things that are changing might be a source of fleeting happiness, but they can't be a source of lasting happiness. Therefore, they're not really as satisfying as we would like them to be. They aren't like a safe landing pad, a landing spot.

So whatever is impermanent, whatever is changing, whatever is not constant is necessarily unsatisfactory. And just a little bit not quite right. Or maybe we might sense it's flawed in some way, or it's defective in some way. And whether it's in a subtle way or a gross way, it's tangled up with suffering, it's bound up with suffering. Suffering or dissatisfaction, two different words we might use for this Pali word dukkha.

And then when we recognize that all these things that are changing and impermanent are bound up with unsatisfactoriness, then we realize they're not worth clinging to. They're not worth holding on to, because they're not going to be a source of lasting happiness. So it's just natural that it just happens that we no longer cling, like there's a letting go. And then we are just releasing the attachment we have to the objects or experiences.

But there is one subtle attachment that's really subtle, that is difficult to let go, and that is this clinging to the experiences of body or mind, and identifying with them as, "This is mine, this is me, this is myself." So this is one attachment that's definitely more subtle and doesn't readily get let go of. We're always trying to establish some personal, permanent identity within ourselves. Something that we can say, "Oh, this is my true self, this is me. I'm like this, I'm not like that."

But Buddhism says that this idea of a self is the linchpin, is the crux of all the defilements. It's kind of what keeps them all in place. This idea of "mine" gives rise to craving, it gives rise to greed, selfishness, harm. This idea of "me" gives rise to conceit and pride, and always having to bolster it up and protect it and make it look good.

But the culmination of this practice, like the greatest wisdom, is this insight into the selflessness of all experiences. The selflessness of all experiences.

So this idea of a self, I'm talking about selflessness, we might say just a little bit what do we mean. This idea of a self we might consider it as maybe similar to an idea of like an ego or a soul, and we conceive of it as something that's unique and constant and autonomous, you know, independent. But in addition, we conceive of the self as being vulnerable, and so we're always having to protect it and bolster it.

And then so often when we hear about these teachings about not-self, our initial reactions are mixed or ambivalent, because it seems so counter to our experience, and it seems counter to common sense. And our gut feeling says, "Well, of course there's a self, I'm here." So maybe we have this puzzlement or disbelief, or discounting, whatever it is. Or discounting any teacher that happens to mention this, like, "What are they talking about?" Maybe we just think it's just ridiculous.

But this journey, this practice, asks for open-mindedness and humility. And maintaining this openness, this spirit of inquiry, this wisdom I'm talking about is kind of like this teasing apart, having this discernment, distinguishing, seeing clearly. Maybe we can tease apart some of the different elements of our experience and our idea about the experience. The experience and the concept and the label that we're putting on top of it. Can we distinguish those? And watch for those moments when we categorize what is happening by saying, "Oh, this is me or that's mine." Or that we succumb to this "me versus the world" or "us versus them" thinking.

But this being able to distinguish the sense of self, and to distinguish between an experience and the way that we're labeling it "the self," is subtle. It's very subtle, and it might take a meditative state before we can see it. But wisdom, the greatest wisdom, is to see that. See things clearly, not just on the surface layer, and not just what is obvious and easiest and the most comfortable. But to investigate, and to ask ourselves: is there something underneath this? Is there something underneath that's promoting the suffering, so that our wisdom can maybe shine the light onto some ignorance, something that we're not seeing, so that the suffering can be released? The suffering can go away.

So, wisdom. Wisdom as the fourth pāramī. There's so much we could say about wisdom, and I'd like to offer today that it's about seeing clearly those things that are obvious, as well as investigating with an open mind some of those things that are underneath what's so obvious. So that with wisdom we might find our way with things that are difficult in our lives and in the lives of others, so that our practice can be a support for all beings everywhere. Thank you.