Guided Meditation: Earth Element; Dharmette: Flavors of the Dharma (2 of3) Energy or Heroism

This is an AI-generated transcript from auto-generated subtitles for the video Guided Meditation: Earth Element; Flavors of the Dharma (2 of 5) Energy or Heroism. It likely contains inaccuracies, especially with speaker attribution if there are multiple speakers.

The following talk was given by Kim Allen at Insight Meditation Center in Redwood City, CA on June 20, 2023. Please visit the website www.audiodharma.org for more information.

Guided Meditation: Earth Element

Okay, so let's go ahead and get started. We'll sit together as usual. Find a posture where you can be upright and also relaxed. Close the eyes if that is okay for you. We would generally favor having the eyes closed in these kinds of meditations, just allowing the attention to come inward. Sense from the inside what it's like to be sitting, standing, or lying down, whatever posture you're in.

Maybe take a couple of long, slow, deep breaths, really filling the lungs, and then on the exhale, just allow the body to soften, letting the air go really all the way out.

Just allow the breathing to become natural again, and touch into the place where you're sitting—your seat against the chair, the cushion, the bench, whatever you're lying on. Feel the contact that's supporting you. You can really get a sense of the groundedness of the body, the stability of where you're sitting. The way the body is somewhat similar to what it's sitting on: Earth sitting on Earth.

Then, sense into the body itself. The structure of the body is supported by the skeleton, the bones. Sense the bones as you're sitting. You can feel the sit bones and the spine. Perhaps you feel the shoulders, maybe the shoulder blades against the upper back, down into the arm bones, and the hands resting somewhere on each other or on the thighs. Feel the solidity of the legs and the feet. There's a structure to this body, a particular shape and infrastructure. Regardless of our state of health, there is this internal structure.

You can imagine the body in its meditation posture as a mountain, a mountain that can't be swayed even by strong winds. This is the Earth element: the quality of solidity, of hardness, of literal strength that's naturally present. It's not something we're creating, so we're just tuning into that dimension of the body, of the physical experience.

As we sit still like the mountain, we can connect also now with the sensations of the breath, like a gentle breeze flowing across the face of the mountain. The breath and the body together, connecting with the present moment.

This energy of Earth, Earth energy, can support persistence in the mind. So we aim to stay gently connected with the present through our normal mindfulness practice, maybe a bit longer than usual, without any push or forcing. Just with the natural strength of the Earth energy in the body, we apply a little bit of persistence, the way the Earth inexorably stays in contact with what is touching it.

We can sense the strength of the Earth element. It's a strength that has no aversion in it, no coercion in it; it's just there, like the strength of a mountain. And we sit with the breath, with the body, with whatever thoughts and emotions are there, willing to be with that. We can rest in this centeredness as we stay with the flow of experience. It all flows across, and through, and around the Earth element of our sitting posture. So, sitting now quietly for a little while.

When the mind spins off into a world of its own creation, we can feel the ungroundedness of that and return our attention to the simple presence of the body sitting. The Earth sitting on Earth. Feel how that re-grounds the mind and brings up a sense of persistence, of staying in the present moment.

As we stay with the quality of the Earth element in the background of our meditation, the fruit of this is moving toward equanimity, the sense of balance, acceptance, and being able to be with anything pleasant or unpleasant without getting thrown off kilter. Sense into that deep presence that is not swayed by experience—the equanimity of Earth.

So now, broadening the attention to include the whole body, as well as the emotions and the thoughts, maybe letting the attention, still with the eyes closed, extend out farther into the room. Hearing the sounds around you, just having this sense of centeredness, more balance. Consider what a gift this is when we can carry this around with us throughout the day.

It is so easy out in the world to become ungrounded. We're reading things on the internet or getting caught up in the events of the day. Sometimes even just one person being connected with the center of their being, grounded with their feet on the ground, can influence a whole situation, a whole interaction, to be more grounded, more connected. So the cultivation from this practice today, we hope, will have some positive effect in the world as we carry the energy of Earth with us. As a gift, more than helping just us, it can radiate out and be of benefit to many beings, even in ways that they don't feel consciously, but it's there supporting them. May it be so.

Dharmette: Flavors of the Dharma (2 of3) Energy or Heroism

Okay, sorry about that video image. I think I fixed that.

This week we've been talking about flavors of the Dharma. The Pali and Sanskrit term is rasa^[1], which could also be translated as a savor. It's meant to be the emotional tone of often a work of art, but it can be extended into the realm of spiritual teachings. People who are familiar with culture in the era of the Buddha would have understood these rasas. In the case of spiritual teachings, this flavor is more specifically something that would support the Eightfold Path, and you see these in the suttas.

We're picking out some of these flavors and highlighting them this week. Yesterday was love, compassion, or care. Today is quite distinct from that and equally important. It's the tone of energetic engagement and persistence, which is sometimes even called heroism in the Indian world. The Pali term for this is viriya^[2], and the Buddha talked about it a lot. This quality is named in the most lists, more so even than mindfulness. There is probably no way to read the suttas honestly and not get the message that viriya is important.

This quality of energy, effort, or the flavor of heroism has several different dimensions. It's not just one thing; it's multifaceted.

One of them we talked about a little bit in the meditation, which is persistence or perseverance. It has to do with not giving up, with being steady and ongoing. Sometimes we can have an energy in our practice of being on and off. We're into it for a while and then off. We sit for a week or two, we're good at sitting, and then we're kind of not into it for a month, things like that. When this quality of viriya comes in, it brings a consistency, a steadiness, and an ongoingness to the way that we practice.

Another dimension is confidence. That doesn't mean that we always feel self-confident—this practice has many changes in that area. But nonetheless, it's clear that we're not going to put energy or effort into something that we have no confidence in. If you don't have any confidence that pink elephants are going to help you in your practice, you won't put energy into trying to find a pink elephant. We have to have some sense that mindfulness is helpful for us, that the cultivation of mettā is helpful, and that being present even when things are difficult is helpful. That will help us put energy into those practices.

Then there's also the dimension of self-control or self-mastery in a positive way. One of the first insights people often have in practice is, "Wow, my mind is really crazy." When you first sit down doing mindfulness practice, you realize, "I'm trying to stay on the breath and I can't even do it for one breath. Wow, this is how my mind is." Hopefully, we continue beyond that and keep doing the practice. An element of viriya is that the mind has become somewhat tamed, somewhat trained; it's not running all over. As we have more viriya in our practice, there's also a way in which life becomes more purposeful. We're clear on what we're doing. Even if we don't have a grand plan or grand aim—maybe it's even better not to have that sometimes—there's a sense of doing what we need to do at this moment, having a larger picture of wanting to be ethical in the world. Those are also qualities that come in with this flavor of viriya, or heroism, or energy. You might imagine superhero images in the good sense, or Rosie the Riveter, things like that.

The suttas use words like striving, being unremitting, and generating zeal for our practice, again, all in a good way. One of the chapters of the Dhammapada^[3] has a lot of verses that glorify heroic efforts. I thought I'd read a couple of those just so we get a sense of how this sounds in the teachings:

"Glory grows for a person who is energetic and mindful, pure and considerate in action, restrained and vigilant, and who lives the Dharma. Through effort, vigilance, restraint, and self-control, the wise person can become an island no flood will overwhelm."

There is that side of it, and it can be an ideal that we can look toward—not always achieve, but it's a useful kind of energy. And yet, when I looked across many suttas, I found that there's actually a range regarding how much effort is needed at a given time. It's not that we're supposed to put out maximum effort at all times; it's more nuanced than that. I wanted to offer a few examples that convey the range of this flavor of heroism in the teachings, which can be helpful for us in trying to navigate the different changes in our practice.

We have to acknowledge there is support for strong effort. In the Buddha's own quest for awakening, there was a time when he made this declaration. I know some of you have heard this:

"Gladly would I let the flesh and blood in my body dry up, leaving just the skin, tendons, and bones, but if I have not attained what can be reached through human effort, human persistence, human striving, there will be no relaxing my persistence. From this heedfulness of mine was attained awakening. From this heedfulness of mine was attained the unexcelled freedom from bondage."

That was the Buddha's declaration. Now, he was ripe, he was ready sitting under the Bodhi Tree. Clearly, we're not expected to do exactly that. But on the other hand, we're not expected only to relax and accept, which is sometimes what we're taught—"Just relax, just accept, just be with everything, don't try to change anything." And that's good for those of us who are a little too striving in our way of approaching practice. But we may think of times in practice when we have needed strong effort. There may be times when strong physical sensations come, strong emotions come, and we have to bring forth a lot of strength and attention to meet those mindfully. Or we might be caught up in a powerful wave of sleepiness and torpor, and a lot of effort is needed to stay present. If that's our aim, to stay present, we may need to bring up a lot of energy to meet that. What the Buddha is quoted as saying there is very extreme, and I worry a little bit when I see people kind of moving toward that on retreat, but we can't deny that the suttas really do support strong effort at times.

Moving through this range, there's also a sutta that explicitly talks about being very careful to balance our effort. There's the Sona Sutta^[4], the story of Sona, who is a monk who has been doing such vigorous walking meditation that his feet are bleeding. He's walking, and walking, and walking, and then he gets discouraged, of course, because he's trying too hard. The Buddha gives him a beautiful teaching about tuning his effort the way we would tune a musical instrument like a stringed instrument. If the strings are too tight, then we can't practice well, and the instrument doesn't sound good. If the strings are too loose, the instrument can't be played either. We need something that's just right, in tune, with just the right amount of tension on the strings so that the instrument is in tune and playable. In the same way, when we have the right amount of effort in the mind, we're neither overly aroused nor overly slack. In the language of the sutta, then the mind can reach stability; it can become concentrated.

There's also an image of a goldsmith working to purify gold. There are times when he has to sprinkle water on it, times when he has to heat it up, and times when it's better just to look on because it's good as it is. But there's always this tending to it and keeping it in balance. In the same way, as we work to refine our mind, from time to time we emphasize concentration, or effort, or equanimity, or acceptance—different things at different times. So we have to keep vigilant and tune our energy and effort to fit the task at hand.

Continuing to move through this range, there is a time for no effort at all. Consider this interesting verse from the Sutta Nipata^[5]:

"One insight is that effort is the basis of all suffering. The other insight is that by the complete cooling and cessation of effort, no more suffering is produced. Every form of suffering grows out of effort. Eradicate effort and no more suffering is produced."

Wow, how about that? This is not a teaching for all time—we do need effort—but the passage is talking about a particular point in practice where the mind has become so still that any movement creates some kind of tension, some kind of strain. When the mind is in a state like that, it has to let go of intention itself. It has to surrender completely any form of effort. So it might be that "relax and accept" is the deepest instruction, but we don't get there until we practice for a while.

We have a path that goes from persistence and strong effort, moving toward letting go as another aspect of effort. We also have from the Dhammapada:

"Absorbed in meditation, persevering, always steadfast, the wise touch Nirvana^[6], the ultimate rest from toil."

So, by persevering, we touch the ultimate rest from toil. Interesting. There's another sutta that says perseverance leads to happiness. Again, we have effort leading toward ease, effort leading toward happiness. Can we feel that in our practice? Maybe it's kind of like riding a skateboard. We push, or we won't go anywhere. We have to get on the skateboard and then move forward and push. But at some point, it's appropriate to coast. And then we might have to push again later, but that's kind of how it goes.

It can take heroism in our practice to stay with challenging experiences. We don't want to fight against them; we've hopefully learned that that doesn't work so well. But we don't want to crumple in the face of strong experiences either. The job of a hero is to meet the moment, to meet the situation. There's that balance: don't fight, but don't crumple. The attitude of heroism can also get us out of slumps, or periods of complacency where practice is feeling stagnant or like it hasn't changed much for a few years. Maybe it will help to make a clear resolution, or to look more deeply, or to ask a key question, or alter our habits in some way, which takes some persistence.

Sometimes heroism is about really doing something radically different. Go on a long retreat, drop everything, and go practice for three months. Who knows? There's a wholeheartedness to this quality of viriya. Whatever wholeheartedness looks like at that moment: being fully there with your experience, meeting it clearly and strongly, and meeting it with acceptance, backing off, and surrendering. There's a wholeheartedness.

So that's the flavor of today: viriya, energy, heroism. It has so many wonderful uses, and I hope it will be a beautiful exploration for you. Thank you.