---
ai_generation_date: '2026-06-21'
ai_model: gemini-3-pro-preview
audiodharma:
  talks:
  - date: '2022-08-15'
    mp3_url: https://audiodharma.us-east-1.linodeobjects.com/talks/16810/20220815-Diana_Clark-IMC-samadhi.mp3
    speakers:
    - speaker_name: Diana Clark
      speaker_url: https://www.audiodharma.org/speakers/240
    talk_start_time_seconds: 0
    title: Samadhi
    url: https://www.audiodharma.org/talks/16810
    video_unavailable: false
location_city: Redwood City, CA
video_unavailable: false
youtube:
  id: -jgqYJFevj8
  imprecise_upload_date: '2023-05-04'
  title: Samadhi
  upload_date: null
  uploader_str: Insight Meditation Center
  uploader_url: https://www.youtube.com/@InsightMeditationCenter
youtube_url: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-jgqYJFevj8
---

# Samadhi - [Diana Clark](https://www.audiodharma.org/speakers/240)

*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.*

## [Samadhi](https://www.audiodharma.org/talks/16810)

Welcome, everybody. It's nice to practice together, especially after some of us have been practicing on our own for these years during the pandemic. It's nice to come together, so thank you. Thank you as well to the people on the other side of that camera or on YouTube. It is also quite something how the Insight Meditation Center has really grown.

Tonight, I'd like to continue this series I'm doing about the seven factors of awakening. You wouldn't be surprised if I said there were seven factors, and I'm going to talk about number six. I've done the first five. The seven factors of awakening are mindfulness, investigation, energy, joy, and tranquility. Tonight, I'm going to talk about samadhi[^1], and the next one after this is equanimity.

I'm using this Pali[^2] word, samadhi. I'll spend some time this evening unpacking that: what does it mean, and maybe why I'm not using the English word that's often used. One reason is I like the sound of this word samadhi. It kind of has that feeling of samadhi. It's kind of this soft, spacious, maybe expansive experience.

The seven factors of awakening have energizing factors and tranquilizing factors, with mindfulness in between. Samadhi is part of the tranquilizing factors, along with tranquility and equanimity. Investigation, energy, and joy are a little bit more energetic. That gives a little clue about what samadhi means. For now, I'm going to use this definition: it's when the mind and body feel unified, settled, and steady, and there's a sense of well-being. Unified, settled, and steady with a sense of well-being.

The sense of well-being sometimes can be really powerful, or it can be really subtle. I'll talk about this a little bit, but before I give a description of how it is or how we might cultivate it, I'll talk a little bit about why we should even bother. Why should we be concerned with, think about, practice with, or learn about whatever this idea of samadhi might be?

We might say that samadhi prepares the mind. It creates the conditions and helps prepare the mind for some letting go—some deep letting go. It also prepares the mind for some deep understanding. This understanding and the letting go often go together. This practice and tradition really emphasize that with greater understandings, it naturally happens that clinging and craving start to diminish. We start to understand and see how clinging and craving do not lead to greater happiness; they are not a source of lasting happiness.

Samadhi is a way for there to be some settledness and steadiness, so we can see a little bit more clearly. It's exactly like if there were a telescope and we wanted to see something up in the sky that wasn't so obvious. It's really helpful to stick that telescope on a tripod. We might think of samadhi as this type of tripod that enables us to see things we wouldn't be able to see otherwise.

One of the first insights we have with our mindfulness practice is, "Oh my gosh, my mind is out of control. I didn't realize how much my mind is scattered and distracted and does everything except what I want it to do." I think all of us have this experience when we start a meditation practice, specifically a mindfulness practice.

As the mind starts to get more and more still, as there is a little bit more samadhi, then we start to see that what seemed like just an out-of-control mind—an experience filled with thoughts, plans, ideas, and fantasies—is actually not so solid. As the mind starts to get more still, we can penetrate through what seems like the solid way in which the mind works. We can see, "Oh, actually these things are arising and passing. They come and they go." Sometimes really quickly, sometimes in a longer duration. Sometimes they seem like they're flickering, sometimes they feel like they're just moving like sludge. But with this samadhi, we start to see different characteristics of our experience beyond, "It seems like I'm never present." Seeing this inconstancy allows for letting go. It allows for the softening and lessening of any clinging that we might be doing.

This is the direction in which our practice goes: towards greater stillness, peace, and a sense of well-being. We can use this as a guidepost with our practice as we explore different ways of practicing. As we learn new things, we can use these experiences and ideas of steadiness, stability, and well-being as a way to direct where we want to go with our practice. How do we know if what we're doing is working, or if it is worth persevering with? Is it heading towards samadhi?

Samadhi involves a feeling of unification; it involves the whole mind and the whole body. In fact, this distinction between body and mind starts to blur, and in some states, it even goes away. There is a real sense of collectedness and unification. We might also call it non-distraction, where things are just settling down. I've heard Andrea Fella[^3] use the simile of a snow globe. You shake it up and all the glitter goes everywhere, but then you just put it down and things start to settle. In the same way, when samadhi is present, it's kind of like this settling process.

One nice way of thinking about it as a snow globe is that instead of samadhi being an on-or-off switch—where you either have it or you don't—we can ask, "Does it feel like the shaking is happening, or does it feel like this settling is happening?" It's a recognition that there's a spectrum. Samadhi is moving towards calming and settling. It's not a simple "yes or no"; it's just one end of the spectrum regarding the amount of busyness and distraction we might have. We might think of samadhi as a sliding scale or a continuum. Through our practice, we gently encourage more of this sense of calmness.

Sometimes this word gets translated as "concentration." For years, early in my practice, I thought concentration was this real straining, bearing down, working-really-hard way to practice. And yeah, the mind gets settled a little bit more, but it's missing that well-being quality. It's missing a quality of ease. Rather than stapling the mind onto the object, samadhi has more of a sense of being unified. It is a nicer feeling than just bearing down and really trying to focus.

There are a few qualities within samadhi that I'd like to highlight to help us remember that it's not just this bearing down, forcing the mind to really get concentrated. As we move towards more collectedness, unification, and well-being on the spectrum, one of the qualities we'll find is steadiness.

Steadiness supports investigation. As I said with the tripod and the telescope, with steadiness we can see things differently. As we move towards more samadhi, we see things a little bit differently than we might during our regular everyday life as we go through our business. There is a capacity to look at what's happening and see a little bit more deeply, learning from what's happening in a relaxed, easy way that allows it to penetrate our experience.

Another quality is a certain refinement or delicacy of attention. Sometimes when we're practicing mindfulness, the mind drifts away from the object. This is what minds do. When that happens, there might be a reaction like, "Dang it!" There can be a forcefulness in trying to really stick back to the object. But as the mind starts to calm down, it can be more like, "Oh," and we might just touch the subject lightly. Instead of stapling or forcing the attention onto the object, it becomes more gentle and delicate.

This delicate, gentle awareness can perceive things that are more subtle. Investigation enables us to see things we couldn't normally see, but as the objects become more subtle, the quality of the mind also becomes more delicate, refined, or smooth. The awareness becomes less rough—like the difference between a rough material and silk. We become able to see more subtle ways in which we are clinging, or subtle ways in which there might be aversion where we want things to be different. We might be so accustomed to these reactions that we normally don't notice them. When we start to see, "Oh yeah, here's a little bit of clinging, here's a little bit of tightening that I hadn't noticed," then there can be some letting go, which supports a deepening of samadhi and more freedom and ease.

Another quality present with samadhi is malleability, flexibility, or plasticity. The mind becomes a little bit more flexible, especially when there's a sense of well-being. Often, the mind doesn't do what we want it to do, especially earlier in our practice. If you've had a day with a lot of agitation, when you sit to meditate you might notice, "Oh my goodness, my mind is all over the place." But as we start to settle, the mind becomes more malleable and agile. We are able to approach things a little bit differently.

Sometimes in our practice, we have a rigid sense of what to do: "Nope, this is what I do. I practice mindfulness of the breath, and when the mind wanders I come back, and I count one through ten." That can be a great practice, but there might be a time when that's not the best approach. Maybe it would be helpful to open up and do a little bit of loving-kindness or cultivate some softness if we are really agitated or if ill will is prevalent. Or maybe we are being really hard on ourselves, kind of beating ourselves over the head with our mindfulness. Malleability allows us to recognize what is needed and what the best way forward is.

In a soft, gentle way—not bouncing around trying to find the most pleasant experience—we act out of care and sensitivity to what will support settling. We might ask, "What would be helpful here? Should I stay with the breath? Maybe I'll pay a little bit more attention to the exhale, as that can be a way to calm down. Or maybe I could practice some loving-kindness. A third way might be to open up the awareness and be receptive, allowing experiences to arise rather than bringing awareness to a specific experience." These are subtle differences, but when samadhi is present, there is the agility to recognize what is needed without bouncing around too much.

There is a quote from the suttas[^4] that appears a number of times, and I feel quite inspired by it. The Buddha is describing his own awakening experience. He described his mind right before his enlightenment, saying that his mind was concentrated—using this word samadhi—"concentrated, purified, cleansed, unblemished, rid of defilement, malleable, wieldy, steady, and attained to imperturbability."

This is why samadhi is a factor of awakening: it helps create the conditions in which awakening can happen. I appreciate these words "malleable," "wieldy," and "steady." "Steady" doesn't mean holding on for dear life. I'm emphasizing this over and over again because I suffered a lot in my early retreat practice. I had this idea that I just had to strive and strain as much as I could, and it was miserable. I'd be on long retreats feeling like, "No pain, no gain." I hadn't quite gotten the memo that there was supposed to be some well-being associated with this.

That sense of well-being is another quality of samadhi. For me, this is the "ah" part of samadhi. There's a sense of, "Ah, yeah, okay. Yeah, I'm here. I'm right here." It's just a collectedness, a sense of being present.

The well-being that comes with samadhi is not only an integral part of the experience; it is actually really important for a number of reasons. One reason is letting go. The closer we get to awakening, the more it is all about letting go. It's not about accumulating meditative states. Well-being supports letting go. When we are in the middle of emotional distress or pain, we are not in a place to let go of things. We can't let go of our habits, our usual views of how things work, or our ideas about ourselves. This well-being supports letting go, as does understanding. We see that things are changing and flickering, and they are not what we thought they were.

I'm using this vague word "well-being" because it shows up in so many different flavors and ways with samadhi. But it is not only important because it supports letting go. If we experience a sense of well-being in our meditation sessions, it starts to permeate our experience off the cushion and into our daily life. What we experience while sitting shows us that this is available; the mind and body together know how to do this.

This allows some well-being to show up off the cushion, which brings emotional stability. Emotional well-being allows our daily life to unfold in a different way. Dipping into this sense of well-being also helps us to stop blindly pursuing sensual pleasures—like needing one more dopamine hit. For me, it's cookies. For others, maybe it's the internet, buying things, or gambling. When we have these experiences of well-being, we start to realize that those dopamine hits are clearly inferior to the well-being found in meditative states. Knowing that something better is possible causes those habits to lose their pull. It's often not until people have meditative experiences of well-being that their relationship to pursuing pleasure really starts to shift. Because pursuing pleasure is part of our biology, it's not until you experience deeper, more satisfying, and more pervasive well-being that your reactions to daily life shift.

Well-being is just as important as settling. The settling, the steadiness, and the well-being are all happening together. When we cultivate samadhi, we are cultivating both well-being and settledness.

To cultivate samadhi takes patience and consistent practice. It's not something that happens right away for many people. Some people do have a propensity for settling. Part of this can be based on how we spend our daily lives. If you are a preschool teacher and you have to keep track of what all the kids are doing—"No, Johnny, don't do this; Susie, don't do that"—you get really good at being aware of many things at once. If you're an office manager or in customer service, people are calling all the time. That is different from someone who looks through a microscope and has to be really focused without a lot of other sensory input, like a scientist, mathematician, or computer programmer. How you spend your days has an impact. Beyond that, it's partly a mystery; some individuals just find it a little bit easier than others.

When cultivating samadhi, it's not all about bearing down and focusing. A good fifty percent of the practice is about relaxing, letting go, and tuning into the ease. Whatever ease is available—even if it's not your dominant experience, even if it's just a little corner of your experience—don't be dismissive of that quiet sense of contentment. When the mind starts to settle down, at least fifty percent of the practice is tuning into that. Human beings have a negativity bias and want to tune into everything that's wrong, so it is not necessarily easy to stay with what feels comfortable, pleasant, or neutral.

Another twenty-five percent of the practice is an attitude of receptivity and openness. This has a quality of equanimity. Rather than trying to fix things, make them different, or chase after them, this openness allows things to arise and pass away naturally.

Then, only twenty-five percent is the effort to stay focused or stay present with our experience. With concentration practice, it's very common to stay focused on the sensations of breathing, the movement of the abdomen, or the feeling above the upper lip. The focus can also be on loving-kindness. The repetition and warm-heartedness of loving-kindness practice really supports samadhi. A third way is more open: just noticing the changing nature of whatever object is in our attention. You might notice sound, but the focus is on the noticing of the sound arising and passing away. Or sensations in the body, but focusing on their flickering nature. This third way is a little bit less common, but it works really well for some people.

When we do this practice, it's really important to pay attention to our relationship to it. When people hear the word "concentration," two things often happen. Rob Burbea[^5]—who was a fantastic Dharma teacher—put words to this. Often, our sense of practice shrinks and it all becomes about measuring: "Am I focused? Am I not focused? Dang it, that was a thought. Okay, I'm not focused." It turns into a grind to get to samadhi. This measuring mind shows up, collapsing into a strong sense of self: "I'm not as concentrated as I used to be yesterday. I'm not as concentrated as that person sitting in front of me." All this chatter starts to come up, and that's not the direction we're going.

Not only is there measuring, but often if we feel we *have* to focus, an obvious sense of aversion arises. "Dang it, I'm trying to concentrate! Don't those neighbors know their dog should be quiet? Why did someone I share the house with decide to talk loudly on the phone right now?" This aversion creeps in, and of course, aversion is not a sense of well-being or receptivity.

We can stretch our idea of what samadhi practice is. I talked about well-being, focus, and being receptive. But I'd like to stretch it even more and say that no matter what is happening in your samadhi practice, we are practicing perseverance. This is enormously helpful in our lives. We're practicing patience, which is also enormously helpful. Maybe we're noticing that the mind has wandered and asking, "Is there a way I can come back to the object with a sense of warmth and gentleness?" Coming back to the breath with a sense of well-being—like, "Oh, okay, I'm just gonna come back"—is enormously beneficial.

We might start to notice when there isn't a sense of well-being because we are beating ourselves up. We might realize, "Oh yeah, this is what it feels like to have a judging mind. Ouch, it doesn't feel good." Even if you sit down to cultivate samadhi and feel like samadhi is nowhere nearby, that's okay too. What we are cultivating will be a support for our practice and our daily life.

This practice is cultivated in the same way we gain physical strength by doing bicep curls. We don't get strong by doing just a few curls and suddenly realizing, "Bam! Now I'm stronger." It's the repetition of doing it over and over again. Often, this settling happens imperceptibly. Sometimes I haven't even noticed that my mind got settled until the bell rang. I'll think, "Oh yeah, there's a bell, and it just feels nice." There's a pleasant sense that arises, and I think, "Maybe I'll get up, maybe I won't. Maybe I'll stay." There can be this quiet settling that we don't even notice until the end.

Next week I will talk a little bit more about samadhi, but I wanted to introduce this idea as one of the factors of awakening. Now I'd like to open it up to questions.

## Q&A

**Questioner 1:** The practice today was very nice, although all the things you had mentioned with measuring, aversion, and comparison were all over the place. Samadhi was nowhere near. When I had it, I was just striving towards it, like, "Oh, I'm waiting for the bell to ring." And I'm like, "Oh no, that's not what I want." How can I cultivate that loving-kindness?

**Diana:** With mindfulness practice, we might have this idea that we just have to be with whatever arises. But if you want to cultivate a little bit of samadhi, there can be a bit more intentional movement. There are a few things that help. First, the posture really makes a difference. If the body has some alertness, it allows the mind to have some alertness as well.

Second, if you have the thought, "Oh, I'm just waiting for the bell," one thing to try is to label it: "Oh, that's a thought." It doesn't have to be a problem; it's just a thought. Our minds think. And then just come back to the anchor, which is often the breath. Labeling it "thought" can interrupt the momentum of the thinking. Otherwise the mind goes, "I've been thinking, I don't want to be thinking, the last time I wasn't thinking as much, and the bell's going to ring. When is she going to ring the bell?" Just a quiet note, "thought," can interrupt that momentum.

The other thing—and this is not always easy—is to pay attention to the manner in which the mind comes back to the object. Is it like, "Dang it, get back here!"? We see this happen a hundred times, a thousand times, and eventually we realize it just doesn't make sense anymore. The mind starts to become a little bit softer. If we notice the mind drifting away, in the moment of waking up, is there cursing, or is it like, "Oh, okay, I've wandered"? Notice how the mind comes back. Can there be a gentle, warm-hearted way? This is very subtle, and it can be a really strong habit to jerk the attention back with a little bit of aversion. Don't beat yourself up. After you've seen it ten thousand times, it just starts to shift. This is where the repetition and continuity of practice really come in.

**Questioner 2:** I attended a retreat earlier this year on the aggregates[^6]. It seems there's a lot of space in the study of the aggregates to try and find different ways to samadhi. I don't know, it occurs more easily when you're studying the aggregates. I wondered if you had any thoughts about that?

**Diana:** The aggregates are different aspects of our experience, and they are a little bit more subtle. The mind has to settle in order to perceive what is subtle. Tuning into that subtleness kind of creates the mind's settling, and that is what supports samadhi. And often we can't see the aggregates unless there is some settling, and the more we're looking at them and investigating, playing around, and exploring them, the quieter the mind has to be.

**Questioner 2:** It occurred to me from that retreat and this discussion how much of this practice is learning about how your mind works. It's almost like a scientific study of how the activity of the brain works.

**Diana:** Yes, I would say that. It's so much about knowledge and vision. It is being able to understand and see things that you wouldn't see without this practice.

Okay, so we're at the top of the hour. A warm wish for everybody to have some well-being, settledness, and steadiness in their lives, and an appreciation for practicing together. I wish you all a wonderful rest of the evening. Thank you.

---
[^1]: **Samadhi:** A Pali word commonly translated as "concentration" or "unification of mind"; a state of steady, focused, and unified attention.
[^2]: **Pali:** An ancient Middle Indo-Aryan language native to the Indian subcontinent, used as the liturgical and scriptural language of Theravada Buddhism.
[^3]: **Andrea Fella:** A prominent insight meditation teacher and co-guiding teacher at the Insight Meditation Center.
[^4]: **Suttas:** The discourses or teachings of the Buddha.
[^5]: **Rob Burbea:** A widely respected Dharma teacher, author of *Seeing That Frees*, and former resident teacher at Gaia House in the UK.
[^6]: **Aggregates:** (Khandhas in Pali) In Buddhism, the five aggregates (form, feeling, perception, mental formations, and consciousness) are the components that make up a human being's physical and mental existence.