Sati (5 of 5) Abiding in Lucid Awareness + Q&A

This is an AI-generated transcript from auto-generated subtitles for the video Dharmette: Sati (5 of 5) Abiding in Awareness. It likely contains inaccuracies, especially with speaker attribution if there are multiple speakers.

The following talk was given by Gil Fronsdal at Insight Meditation Center in Redwood City, CA on April 03, 2020. Please visit the website www.audiodharma.org for more information.

Sati (5 of 5) Abiding in Lucid Awareness + Q&A

Good morning. This morning will be the last of the five-part series on the faculty of mindfulness. Over these weeks, I'm going through one week each on the five faculties. I've done three now: faith, then effort, and mindfulness. Those of you who've been following along might have picked up that these five talks each week are progressive. They are talking about these faculties from the perspective of different points on the path of practice, or as a practice deepens or strengthens as it goes along.

For this mindfulness series, Monday, the first day, was what I call initiating mindfulness—the practice of just coming back, waking up, and reconnecting to what's here. That takes a certain kind of effort, some kind of engagement, and a commitment to keep coming back, keep waking up, or keep recognizing that we're here.

Then, as the practice progresses, as we begin to get more in the flow of the present moment, we come back more often and are here more often, and that recognition factor can become stronger. A very important part of mindfulness practice is to clearly recognize, "Oh, this is what's happening." We recognize a sound, a sensation, or a thought for what it is. Part of the art is to learn to do that recognition without bringing along with it our preferences, our desires, our aversions, our complex associations, thoughts, and interpretations. We just let the recognition be very plain and simple, a clear acknowledgment of what's happening.

As we learn to do this, and as it gets stronger, it becomes possible to have more continuity with mindfulness, with awareness in the present moment. It becomes possible to kind of settle back and just observe over time how things are going: to observe the breathing, the sounds that come by, and the thinking as it passes by. It is like watching train cars going down the track, or boats going down the river. You sit and watch. You don't get on the boats, and you don't get on the train cars; you just kind of watch them go by.

As this kind of observing gets stronger and has more continuity, it becomes possible to see how things exist in the course of time. In particular, I mean seeing how things are inconstant: the flow of life, the flow of change, the constant coming and going, arising and passing. Somehow, mindfulness leads us to seeing change, inconstancy, and impermanence.

One of the functions of this is abiding in observation. As the practice develops and we see the impermanence of things, it helps to loosen the grip of our attachments, preoccupations, and resistance to things. Then that quality of abiding becomes stronger. Perhaps even the sense of observation falls away, and there's a simple sense of awareness. Some people describe awareness as a field, and things just exist within the field. Things arise and pass, but there's a strong, clear sense that this quality of awareness, clarity, space, or beingness—a strong sense of restful presence—is here. Things happen, but the sense of awareness doesn't change.

In the Buddhist teachings on mindfulness, he calls this paṭissati^[1], which is a very rare word in the suttas and his teachings, but I think of it as lucid awareness. That's how the renowned translator Bhikkhu Bodhi^[2] sometimes now translates sati^[3] itself—as a lucid awareness. I think this lucid awareness is very clear awareness where we really know we're aware. There's a reflexive quality of, "Yes, I'm here. There's awareness, there's clarity." The clarity, the sense of awareness, the sense of knowing is so clear, peaceful, and spacious that it is almost like its own thing, independent of what is known.

This idea of a knowing that certainly knows something, but is independent of what is known, is getting close to the idea that mindfulness brings freedom. The Buddha, in talking about this paṭissati—this lucid awareness that's possible to abide in—described it as synonymous with not being dependent on anything in the world, and not clinging or grasping to anything in the world.

Regardless of how we understand this abiding in awareness, lucid awareness, abiding in presence, or beingness, we know we're in its territory when we can feel that whatever arises in a moment, consciousness is in no way dependent on it, influenced by it, or caught in it. It doesn't rest on it; it rests in awareness. It abides in awareness, and there is no grasping to anything. This awareness that's here when there's no grasping, not being dependent on anything, and not being influenced by anything, is a profound and wonderful state of peace.

In this way, I've talked about a progression: mindfulness for beginning, intermediate, and more developed stages. It's easy to assume that there are people who are just beginners at the beginning stage, people who have been practicing for some time at an intermediate stage, and people who have practiced a long time at advanced stages. I think that even for people who have practiced for a long time and are fairly mature in their practice, the majority of the time, they're beginners. There's no fixed number here, but just for the sake of discussion, let's say 60%. For a mature practitioner, probably 60% of the time they're just being a beginner—doing initiating mindfulness, coming back, and waking up. Perhaps 30% or 35% of the time they might be an intermediate practitioner, observing in some clear way and not interfering with things too much. Maybe 4% of the time they're in some really high-quality sense of abiding in awareness without much clinging or attachment. And 1% of the time they have some really high-quality feeling of peace and expansiveness. Whether these numbers are accurate or not is not the point. The point is that we're all beginners at times, and we all start where we are.

The important point I'm trying to make is that the essence of practice is to be at the stage that you're at, and to practice with how you are. What I've seen in fairly mature practitioners is a sense of ease, willingness, and acceptance to practice where they're at. If we're practicing as a beginner, that's fine; that's the practice for that moment. There's a wonderful saying for mindfulness meditation: "The fastest way to go from Point A to Point B is to fully be at Point A." Wherever you're at, whatever your situation or circumstance is, our mindfulness is to be with that. Practice with what you have. If you find yourself over and over again as a beginner, that's your spot to practice. That's the place to find your ease, to keep showing up, and keep waking up. If you're able to really start recognizing and find some freedom in the recognition, that's your place. If you're able to rest back and observe, that's your place. If you're able to see the inconstancy of phenomena, that's your place. And if you're able to tap into the mind's capacity to abide in lucid awareness, where there's little to no clinging, attachment, or dependency on anything, that's your place. Wherever your place is, it's your place.

I'll end with a lovely, inspiring metaphor the Buddha gives about mindfulness practice. He talks about monkeys that lived in the forests and jungles of northern India, somewhere in the interface between the foothills of the Himalayas and the plains of the Ganges. The Buddha said that if those monkeys go further up into the mountains, where there are steep cliffs and crevices, it's dangerous for them; they can fall and hurt themselves. If they come out of the forest down into the plains where there aren't a lot of trees, they are very susceptible to being caught by hunters. But if they stay in their home country, in their native land—in that zone between the high mountains and the plains—then they're safe.

In the same way, the Buddha talked about the practice of mindfulness as being a person's native home. The original language implies ancestral lands, the lands of your ancestors. If you stay there, you're safe. This idea that this mindfulness faculty is your native land, your birthplace, the place where you most belong, means it's a home you can bring with you anywhere you go. If you stay close to it, there's safety. If you don't stay in it, there's danger to encounter. I hope that is nice for you.

Next week, we'll do the fourth faculty, which is concentration, Samādhi^[4]. And then the last one we'll do is wisdom.

Q&A

Since it's Friday, and as we did the last two Fridays, I'll stay here for a little while for those of you who would like to ask a question. I'll try to answer questions for the next 10 to 15 minutes or so and be a little bit more responsive. I certainly have valued this chance to have connection with you through the chat. It's actually made it much more alive to sit here in an empty room and talk to a camera. I have a very vivid feeling of you all as a community out there, and I think that's very much helped by the chats. If you want to ask questions, you're welcome to do so, and I'll try to go through them. If there's a lot coming at once, sometimes the questions go up and I can't necessarily go back and find them quickly.

Q: How can you work on returning to, but not grasping, either the breath or the pleasant feelings of abiding? Does this abiding include the breath focus, or can it release even that?

One of the very important principles in Buddhist practice is that we don't focus so much on the ideal and trying to make ourselves fit into it. It's a little bit dangerous to try to live up to an ideal directly and hold ourselves in that position. In mindfulness practice, we use the mindful imprint of the practice to see what's actually going on. If what's going on is that we're grasping, then that becomes what we pay attention to. The way to come to non-grasping is to understand grasping well. It might be grasping the breath, or pleasant feelings, or even the idea of abiding, and that suffering is beginning to cause some contraction, tightness, or stress.

This is a very important part of mindfulness: the recognition factor we talked about on Tuesday. We're recognizing what's happening. We recognize the grasping, the clinging, and the resistance. We're not trying to be dismissive and say, "Well, that shouldn't be there." Rather, we turn towards it to recognize and see it clearly. Then we learn something about it. We learn the stress of it; we learn the discomfort of grasping. We become wise in what we're grasping to, and the trickery of grasping. Over time, because we've become wise, we begin to grasp less. As we grasp less, what emerges is an ability to abide in awareness more. We're not forcing ourselves into abiding; we're patient, taking our time, and growing into it as we start seeing clearly what's going on and how we operate.

Q: Can you say more about staying motivated through the beginning, intermediate, and advanced status, especially in the beginning and intermediate stages?

Great question. There are two sides of practice. There is the path—it is onward leading, taking us someplace toward freedom from suffering. Buddhism has a lot to do with going from suffering to the absence of suffering. So there is a path, and to say there's no path is perhaps discouraging.

At the same time, the moment of mindfulness, the moment of recognition, the moment of being aware of something has inherent in it qualities of peace, freedom, and non-reactivity. I would like people to first learn, as a beginner from the very beginning, to experiment with how a moment of mindfulness is a moment of freedom or a moment of peace. It doesn't have to be dramatic, but how is it useful and valuable? The goal is that you will never regret having been mindful. If you're a beginner for your whole life, you will say to yourself, "That was a life well spent." Each moment of mindfulness is, in a certain way, complete in itself. That's the idea of "to go from Point A to Point B, be fully at Point A."

I put a lot of value on anyone beginning to explore, develop, talk to friends, and find for yourself how a moment of clear mindfulness is itself something you'll never regret doing. If you do that exercise, you'll probably be much more at ease about where you are on any kind of stage model of practice.

Q: Aversion to aging, illness, and death, and judgments about things happening in the world right now make it difficult to find a place of calm abiding. How can you find this abiding out in the world?

It's a very good question. I think it's a question many people share with you right now. There's a lot of uncertainty, stress, fear, and distress about what's happening in the world, and this is the time to practice more than any other time, I think. You want to bring a lot of compassion to studying our distress, studying our difficulties and the challenges we have with what's happening right now, and begin looking at how we're reacting to what's going on.

Maybe first, it's important to allow your heart to break in certain situations. These are difficult times, and there's a lot of pain and suffering. People are dying. People are up against very dangerous situations—people working in the hospitals and elsewhere. There's a lot of distress in families. People are home, and sometimes home is not a safe place to be, or they're cooped up with each other in ways that they don't usually have to be.

There's a way of sitting and practicing where we radically allow ourselves to be exactly how we are. Let the heartbreak happen; let us feel how difficult it is and the weight of all this. Then see if you can feel it in your body. Use all the skills of mindfulness you have. Do it in small dosages. Touch in. Sometimes I like to give instructions when things are really hard inside with a lot of difficult emotions: imagine mindfulness is a soft cotton ball that you gently touch up against the wound or the challenge that you have, and then you pull back. Using mindfulness to go right into the difficulties and stay there can be just too much. But it's valuable to see, recognize, and acknowledge what's there. Make space for it, even if it's just for two moments, and then pull back. When you're ready again, touch it again. We're looking for how we can allow this beautiful heart we have to find its way to resolve what's going on for us.

It takes a lot of honesty, and it takes a lot of discomfort sometimes. Mindfulness practice can be talked about in wonderful, ideal ways of peace, and I apologize if I give that impression too much. A really important part of mindfulness is learning how to be comfortable with discomfort. To learn about all our reactivity, our beliefs, our sense of self—all these things that come into play. I hope you realize that practicing mindfulness with discomfort is actually a really important part of mindfulness. It's not in the public advertisement, but don't go looking for discomfort. If discomfort visits you in your practice, that's an important area of learning: to learn how to be non-reactive and become wise about what goes on inside of us. There comes a day when you can learn to be comfortable with discomfort.

The world is an uncomfortable place. It is inherently, in many ways, an unsafe place. The current status of the coronavirus just highlights what has always been true: that this world is a fragile place and dangers are ever-present. Sickness, old age, and death come sooner for some than others, but they are always here. What's happening now is highlighting this in a way that's distressing and difficult, but now is a time to practice. If that begins with just caring for yourself—compassion for yourself, getting exercise, getting food, talking with friends, doing whatever is needed to come into some kind of balance—do that. Once there is some balance, then maybe the practice can take you deeper into it.

Q: Why does mindfulness seem to wax and wane over the days, or to be stronger after retreat, then easily fade away or be easier during peaceful times and harder during stress?

I suspect it has a lot to do with our preoccupations. We get involved, active, and think about things, and all these concerns come along. The more we're concerned about things, the more active we are, the more preoccupied we become. Emotions come along with that, the groove of thinking operates, and we get caught and involved in our thoughts. There could be mood shifts, and emotions come and go. We can have a good night's sleep or not a good night's sleep. Physiologically, something could be going on that makes life difficult, or we're just not quite our best selves. There are so many variables in human life.

On a retreat, there's a calmness, a steadiness, and a concentration factor that's gotten strong. We've cleared the table to some degree of a lot of preoccupations. When we return, all those things begin to wane; preoccupations come back, concentration wanes, and it's hard to keep the same level of concentration. Daily life is not a retreat. But again, "really be at A." Don't be so concerned about the ideal. The idea is to learn how to practice with what is.

If what is is complicated and preoccupied, there is a wonderful art of discovery. I think it's a real treasure of mindfulness to accept that—or better said, don't be in conflict with any way that you are. See if you can start discovering how there can be a moment of mindfulness, a moment of recognition: "Now, this is how it is." That simple recognition doesn't fix it; it doesn't make it go away. Things are still uncomfortable. But there is a gap. There is a little crack in our experience where there is some degree of peace, freedom, ease, acceptance, and non-conflict, in which there's space for more compassion and wisdom to operate, and we can find our way.

Q: How not to be afraid?

To answer the question as short as it's been asked, and straight to the point: How not to be afraid is to not cling to anything whatsoever. Fear is definitely a byproduct—most fear is definitely a byproduct—of the fact that we are clinging to something, attached to something.

While the question is short and my answer is short, I feel that short answer doesn't really respect the complexity of fear and the care that's needed to be with it. One of the wonderful little instructions that I give around fear is: When you're afraid, help your fear feel safe. If you're distressed about your fear, your fear is not going to feel safe to be there. It's going to be more afraid, or the whole system will get more upset. If you feel like it's wrong to be afraid, or you're afraid of fear, it all makes it more complicated.

Your fear is a very important part of who you are. In a sense, fear is trying to take care of ourselves; it's a movement of self-care and self-protection. Sometimes the fear is misplaced. Sometimes it involves imagination, predictions, and fears of the future that aren't realistic or even appropriate. But regardless of that, fear is still a wonderful movement of self-care and self-protection. Take that movement of self-care and hold it with the cupped hands of awareness, and help it feel safe. The great mantra for fear is: "It's okay. It's okay."

Do that, especially in meditation, and then see what happens to the fear. Fear will begin to thaw; it will begin to relax if it starts feeling that you're a safe person for it. It's kind of like a small child who is really afraid. You're not going to psychoanalyze the child; the child will just get more afraid or turn off. You're not going to tell the child to be different. You might bring the child over, put a hand on their shoulder, and say, "It's okay, it's okay." You help the child feel safe. You might give them some treats or something to eat or drink. Just help your fear feel safe.

Thank you very much. I appreciate the questions, and they're all very important. I wish I could have answered even better, and really meet you. I would love to be able to meet and support each one of you as you are, and offer the kind of care and acceptance that I think you can bring to yourself through mindfulness practice. Thank you so much, and I hope to see you on Monday.