Moon Pointing

Dharma Samadhi (5 of 5) Concentration

Date:
2020-07-12
Speakers:
Gil Fronsdal [Talks] [@AudioDharma]
Location:
Insight Meditation Center [Talks] [@YouTube]
Generation:
2026-09-19 (gemini-3-pro-preview) [Raw Markdown] [YouTube Video]
Keywords:
Dharma Samadhi (5 of 5) Concentration
[] [Jump To Below] [AudioDharma]

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.

Dharma Samadhi (5 of 5) Concentration

I'd like to use this Sunday morning talk to complete the series of talks I gave during this past week at 7:00 AM. I gave a series of talks about something the Buddha calls the Dharma Samadhi. Friday was supposed to be the last talk, but there were difficulties with the recording and connections here, so I didn't really complete it. I'll use this time here, and since some of you weren't there for those talks, I'll also do a little bit of a review and introduction so you can come to the end of this series.

The Dharma Bicycle

When I was a college student, I had a bicycle. Everywhere I went was on the bicycle, but I didn't like the idea of locking it. So, knowing that, I purchased a bicycle that I really doubted anybody would ever want to steal. It was old, somewhat in a poor state of health for a bicycle. In fact, if you coasted downhill on this bicycle, it would come to a stop. There was some internal resistance I remember now, so you had to always be pedaling, even downhill.

Now, the bicycle I have now that I use today to come down to IMC is very well-tuned. Coming down a hill, even the slightest hill, it will roll very nicely, and if it's steep enough, I'll pick up speed. The bicycle I had in college was poorly tuned, poorly cared for, kind of falling apart. In fact, during my college time, no one stole it. I think maybe once someone took it and went, I don't know, 100 yards or something with it.

Dharma practice is like this: if we can be finely tuned, then we'll coast along. We'll roll along, and if we're fortunate enough to come to a kind of down-slope period, then we'll coast, we'll glide, we'll roll down without needing to put any effort in. In fact, you can't stop the flow going downhill, the rolling downhill of a bicycle, unless you put the brakes on and resist, or get off or something.

Part of what dharma practice is, is getting in tune, getting in harmony, so there's no resistance. Things like greed, hatred, and delusion are kind of the basic categories of how we resist. But fear, holding back, being distracted, and being filled with preoccupations and thoughts make life so much more difficult. When we first come to dharma practice, practice can feel like it's going uphill, going up the mountain or something. But at some point, we cross the pass in the mountains, and it's downhill on the other side. Often in daily life, it's like we're climbing the mountain. We're more like Sisyphus; we always have a boulder, or just one boulder after the other. It feels like we're going uphill, but we can't really get that far. With dharma practice, we learn how not to be pushing boulders as we walk uphill.

It is a kind of coming back, making effort initially. But at some point, the effort we have to make is maybe the effort to relax, the effort to open up, the effort to get out of the way. And at some point in the practice, there's the gravitational pull of freedom, the gravitational pull of coming more and more into harmony, to be attuned. As we learn to be present in practice, as we learn to engage without resistance, without expectations for the future, what we want—when we are able to engage practice without a lot of selfishness, self-centeredness, self-preoccupation, self-criticism, all kinds of things "self"—then there's less and less resistance for the engagement, for the flow.

And at some point, when the gravitational pull of freedom gets strong enough, then it's more like we give into that pull, get out of the way of that pull. The Buddha likened it to going downhill, like water flowing downhill—I don't think they had bicycles back then. The water is just flowing, and the water will flow unless it's blocked, like a big boulder or something can stop the water. But using this modern analogy of a bicycle, the bicycle will just roll downhill; it will carry us downhill all the way to the bottom if there's nothing there that resists. There is no resistance in the bike and no obstacles outside. Some of us have the experience of being on a bike, and it can be quite exhilarating and quite wonderful to finally be over the top and rolling down. And that exhilaration, that engagement, can feel really good.

In fact, every morning there's a little hill on the way down here that's a little bit steep, and I just delight in the little bit of speed that comes as I go down and around this curve I have to take. Going down this hill just makes me so happy, and I'm fully there. My mind is not anywhere else. It might be slightly dangerous, ever so slightly, and I'm just fully there. I feel the wind, I feel the bicycle, I feel the speed, and I'm just so happy to be on the bike and just rolling down. For those few moments, I'm just riding the bike; everything else has kind of gone out of my mind, and it just feels so good to be fully there.

Dharma Samadhi

I'm going on about this because this same kind of experience happens in dharma practice. To be caught in the gravitational pull of freedom, or to be starting to be close to the neighborhood of the gravitational pull of freedom, can be called the Dharma Samadhi. To be engaged, involved in, absorbed in, or pulled in by the heart's and mind's capacity for liberation and freedom—to not be caught by anything, not be attached to anything, to let go—is not a neutral thing. It doesn't leave us bland. To let go fully releases the resistance we have to life. It releases the obstacles to being finely tuned: a finely tuned heart, a finely tuned mind that really can flow and go nicely with experience in the present. This is Dharma Samadhi, and the Buddha describes this in five ways, as a sequence, a flow down the hillside. It is said that these five mental states, or qualities of being, flow one into the next as we let go and allow this pull of freedom to pull us more and more fully.

The first is—and again, the translations of these words are a little bit optional. I offer the words that I tend to use, but you might not like some of these words, or they might not work for you. You're more than welcome to find a related word that does work for you, because it's what works for you as you feel the pull of gravity that's important. You don't have to fit yourself into someone else's words or models, but you do want to let go into that wonderful pull of freedom that allows these beautiful qualities to unfold one after the other.

The first one is called pāmojja[1] in Pali, and I translate it as gladness. For the Buddha, it clearly arises when there is inspiration by what we have faith in, some deep appreciation, or when we don't just understand the dharma, but we have a feeling for the dharma. We don't just understand liberation, the goal of practice, we have a feeling for it. The Buddha used a word that some people translate as being inspired by the dharma, but the dictionary says this word, veda[2], like vedanā[3], can also mean to have a feeling. A feel for the dharma, a feel for the goal, a feel for liberation. To get a feel for what it's about and be inspired by it: "Yes, this is great, and I'm so glad, I'm so inspired, I'm so delighted, I appreciate the practice, the possibility, what this is about." There's an inspiration, a gladness that arises.

It's a little bit evaluative; it's understanding something and appreciating it, being inspired. But if we don't get caught up in it and want more, and if we don't fall into the field of desires and expectations and too much zeal to practice, but we're willing to give ourselves, relax, and open up even more, then at some point, that engagement with the breathing, engaging with practice, really being here, the happiness that arises is no longer evaluative. It's not for a reason like we're inspired by something, but rather it starts to become a certain kind of joy, which some people call rapture or even ecstasy. It's a kind of joy or delight that doesn't come for a reason exactly, but comes because it's the joy of engagement, the joy of participation, the joy of applying ourselves.

I could appreciate having a bike, getting to ride the bike, and being happy that I got to go ride my bike. But then when I'm really into riding the bike, it just really feels like—yesterday, I was biking along a long, flat stretch of road, and I was going kind of fast, faster for me than usual, but I was just so happy to be able to do this. I don't always have the physical health to be able to bike this way, so to have that ability at this time just felt so good and so nice. I both appreciated it, but I just liked the work. I just liked the body engaging; the engagement with it brought me some joy.

What's nice about this—and we learn this in practice—is that how we engage can be a source of joy. Sometimes we can be doing something that, when we evaluate it, we don't like it, we don't want to do it, we resist it or something. But it's possible to give ourselves over to the activity, independent of whether we like it or not, and just doing it can feel a delight and joy. It's the how we are with what we engage in that gives birth then to what's called pīti[4] in Pali: joy. When it's strong, it can really be a thrill, a strong delight, some people call it a rapture that arises.

This can happen in meditation. First, we can sit down to meditate, and there can be all this gladness, inspiration, delight, and a happy feeling of "I know what this is about, this is so good." And then we give ourselves over to the goodness of this, to the practice of it, even something as simple as being with the breathing. It can be such a delight to just be doing this, to start being finely tuned with no resistance, just being with the breathing. No judgments like, "Am I breathing just right? I need to breathe better. My neighbor who does meditation certainly must be breathing better than I'm breathing. My breathing is never quite right." All that is not being finely tuned. Just letting go of the resistance and allowing the breathing to be what it is, that how of being, letting go, and surrendering into the breathing, is where this kind of joy can arise.

Then, as we keep doing it—like when I was biking yesterday, I biked long enough. I felt the gladness of riding a bike, I felt the joy of just engaging and riding the bike. But it was long enough that after a while, the joy became quieter. I just had a very whole, holistic feeling just biking, and I started feeling tranquil and more peaceful. Rather than the kind of rush that I had when I was going fast—I still continued to go fast—there started to be a quieting, a settling in for the long haul, and this sense of tranquility started to arise in my body. It was a whole-body thing, quiet, just being there fully, not thinking about it too much, not thinking about where I was trying to go.

The Buddha talked about this: as we get out of the way of this pull of gravity of freedom, there's a deeper relaxation that happens. A deeper contentment, a deep sense of satisfaction that's deeper and more sublime than the thrill, delight, or joy just to be engaged. And then, as that tranquility settles in, it's possible for this gravitational pull of freedom to open up into a deep, sublime happiness. A peaceful happiness. Some people really like the word "deep contentment," or "tranquil happiness." It's often experienced physically, as a suffusion through the body, through the muscles, of just well-being. Sometimes it has felt to me like a healing flow through the body. This healing happiness or well-being comes from a quieting and opening, a free flow, allowing the dharma to move through us.

Allowing this feeling of freedom helps us get out of the way even more and be more finely tuned. Like a bicycle that's completely fine-tuned, everything is in harmony. All the gears are oiled, and everything goes smooth, just gliding along. This sense of contentment, happiness, and well-being, where there's very little resistance anymore, allows something to open. Allowing ourselves to really be here in the moment with this experience is what opens to concentration.

The Gladness Pentad

This Dharma Samadhi is also sometimes called by the Buddha the gladness pentad, the five qualities: gladness, joy, tranquility, happiness, and concentration. For concentration, rather than thinking of it as a laser focus of the mind, think of it as everything—all of who we are—now working in harmony. All the parts of the bicycle are tuned, well-adjusted, and helping the bicycle just flow and work together. The gears switch easily, there's no resistance in the wheels, the brakes have no resistance in them (my previous bicycle had something funny with the brakes), and it just kind of flows and flows and flows.

Concentration, samadhi[5], is a real coming home, a real settling where there is virtually no resistance to being centered and present here, or being really absorbed in what we're doing. With riding the bicycle, we are absorbed in just biking. Everything else gets quiet and peaceful, and mind, body, and heart are just involved in pedaling the bike. With meditation practice, all of who we are is just here in the present moment. There is no tendency for the mind to wander off into thoughts of the past and future; it's just really here. In our feelings and emotions, our motivations and intentions, everything is gathered, working in tune together to be here.

It's not something that we are engineering or pushing to happen, because pushing is another form of resistance. Wanting too much, being greedy, and having expectations is just more resistance for the dharma bicycle. We need to open, keep opening, and let go, allowing this unification, this non-resistance, this non-distractibility of concentration to happen. For the Buddha, this state of being really settled, focused, fully engaged in the present moment with a tranquil mind and a body at ease, is not for its own sake. It's not just to have more pleasure and a good experience. Rather, it's for the purpose of really being able to see things as they are.

Seeing Clearly

This is really the overall purpose of Buddhist practice: to always be honest with what's happening, to always see it as it is. We want to have the ability to clear our perceptions of the projections we have, the bias we have, the delusions, expectations, and judgments we have—all the things we overlay on top of ourselves, our meditation, our experience, our friends, strangers, and the world. To really simplify, to have a quieter mind, and less and less projections onto the world. We want to find a place to see ourselves, others, and the world without projections, without filters, but clearly for what they are. Doing this for the purpose of liberation is what is most liberating.

That will be a little bit the theme for this next week's 7:00 AM sittings: what is it that we see clearly, and how is it liberating? But it's also true for our life in the world; our ability to see clearly what's happening in the world is really important. Our ability to use meditation practice not just to sit in some deep state of well-being and happiness for our own sake, but to do so so that the projections and delusions of the mind have settled away. Then we can see others without our projections, without our bias, so we can be a witness to what's happening in this country and other countries, and so that we can be helpful in support for the world. We don't want to be caught in our horror, our resistance, our anger, and all that, but to be able to live in the world without any animosity. Animosity is resistance; it is a barrier to seeing clearly.

We want to use our ability to see clearly to open our eyes to what's happening in the world around us, so that our good hearts can respond. So that we can live in this world with a heart that wants to help and support this world, not because we're obligated or because we have to, but because it's the gravitational pull of liberation. That's what liberation wants of us, that's what it is opening us to, that's where liberation goes. It goes to caring, loving, and supporting everyone in the world. Without opening to the liberation of all beings—being concerned and wishing for that—it's not really liberation for ourselves, because there's still resistance and barriers then. This movement to be without resistance means that we are equally interested in the liberation of others as we are in the liberation of ourselves.

So let your dharma bicycle be well-tuned. Practice regularly, perhaps meditate every day, so that you keep yourself in tune. Slowly let go of the resistance, slowly discover how to engage and be present, really be here. I hope that with time you'll start discovering, not only in meditation but in many activities in daily life, that this pattern the Buddha describes—called Dharma Samadhi—can come into play. It can support you, guide you, and lead you to wonderful ways of being in the world and seeing the world. The Dharma Samadhi of gladness, of joy, of tranquility, of happiness, and concentration. Thank you so much for listening, and I wish you much gladness, joy, tranquility, happiness, and concentration. Thank you.



  1. Pāmojja: A Pali word typically translated as gladness, joy, or delight. ↩︎

  2. Veda: In this context, deriving from knowing or feeling (related to vedanā). ↩︎

  3. Vedanā: A Pali word usually translated as "feeling" or "sensation," referring to the pleasant, unpleasant, or neutral tone of an experience. ↩︎

  4. Pīti: A Pali word translated as joy, delight, or rapture. It is a key factor of deep states of meditation (jhāna). ↩︎

  5. Samadhi: Often translated as "concentration," it refers to a state of meditative absorption or a unified, collected mind. ↩︎