Saturday, January 29, 2005
Meditation Course
I promised a post; I thought about it through the entire course; and finally, I think I have a spare hour and enough presence of mind to be able to write it. Rejoice!
I enjoyed the format of my BYU post so much, that I'm going to use a similar format on this one: questions and answers. I've thought of a number of questions that I would ask, and will provide the answers; if anyone has any questions that I haven't thought of, please, feel free to toss them into the comments section (or shoot me an email) and I'll be happy to answer them.
First, the usual suspects:
What is Vipassana meditation?
It's the form of meditation taught by Gautama the Buddha as the road to liberation from misery and enlightenment, and does so by removing the impurities of the mind. Basically, the Buddha said that life involves suffering. Can anyone deny it? I can't. It's true. There's suffering in life. There's joy, too -- can't deny that, either. But suffering is there. Why do we suffer? The Buddha then said that suffering is caused by craving and aversion: something that we don't want to happen has happened, and we react to it, and become miserable; something that we want to happen hasn't happened, and we react to it, and become miserable. Sure, sometimes what we want to happen happens, and vice-versa -- but life doesn't always go that way. After all, life's not fair, right?
That sounds kinda pessimistic, though, doesn't it? Which is why it's important for there to be a way to come out of suffering by learning how not to react to these sorts of things. And why not react to them? Intellectually, it makes sense to me: these disappointments are impermanent. Sure, something bad happens -- but it will change. Or I can change it. Similarly, if something good happens, I can rejoice in it -- but knowing that it will change eventually, I can be prepared for the change and not be let down when it happens.
The technique of meditation that they teach at these courses is just that -- a tool and a means whereby to come out of suffering.
How do you practice this meditation?
Vipassana comprises three important components: morality, concentration, and wisdom. What, exactly, are morality, concetration, and wisdom?
Morality. At the beginning of the course, every student takes upon themselves five precepts -- five things they won't do for the duration of the course. These precepts are:
1. To abstain from killing any being.
2. To abstain from stealing.
3. To abstain from all sexual activity.
4. To abstain from telling lies.
5. To abstain from all intoxicants.
Concentration. The first three days of the course, you learn a type of meditation, the purpose of which is to develop concentration. Minds wander -- heaven knows, mine does -- and in order to practice Vipassana, the mind needs to be focused. This technique helps to focus the mind by keeping it fixed on a single object -- one that is always there, whether you're aware of it or not: your breath. By focusing on the breath, and by bringing the mind back to it every time it wanders (without getting annoyed at it), you learn to concentrate deeply and to focus on the present moment, on the matter at hand.
Wisdom. This comes through the practice of Vipassana, which is a technique wherein you observe the immediate reality of the moment. Huh? you ask. Well, reality is what's really happening, right? And for something to be real, it has to be happening now, right? The past is the past; it was real and it happened, but it's not happening anymore. The future? Hasn't even happened yet, but will be real when it does. The present moment, then, is the only true reality, and in order to be focused on what is real, you have to be focused on the present.
Okay, so what's the technique? With a foundation of morality established -- so that you're not creating more defilements of the mind while trying to purify it -- and concentration -- so you can focus on the present moment -- the technique teaches you to observe the sensations that arise and pass away. And -- more importantly -- to remain equanimous. And then the wisdom: that everything -- every sensation, whether painful or pleasurable -- is impermanent. With that, with having experienced impermanence, it's not just an intellectual understanding, but a real understanding. And only then can the path out of misery be trod.
Where was this thing?
This particular course was at a Vipassana Meditation Center in Shelburne, Mass. There are centers all over the world, though, where the exact same courses are held -- same timetable, same technique, same code of discipline, same everything.
What does the course entail other than meditation?
Nothing, really. You take a 10-day vow of silence, and during those 10-days you meditate from 4:30 in the morning until 9:00 at night, with breaks for breakfast, lunch, tea-and-fruit at dinnertime, and an hour-long discourse from the teacher (to explain stuff) at 8:00. There's about 11 hours of meditation in there -- and this course, I pretty much meditated through all of them.
How much does it cost?
Ever the important question, especially to us college students! And happy is the answer: absolutely nothing. What? Free? Nothing in life is free! Right. But this is. And here's why: part of the Buddha's teaching has to do with dissolving the ego. And a good way to do that is to live on the charity of others -- and to give charity to others. So for 10 days, you become a monk or a nun and live completely on the donations of other people. The course itself -- the teaching -- is free. Why? Because money can't buy happiness. After the course is over -- and only then -- you can give donations to the center for upkeep and running future courses: that is, so more people can learn. But they don't allow anyone to donate who hasn't taken a course -- which I think is kind of cool, because it means that they function entirely on the charity of people who are grateful for and who appreciate the teaching. And nothing is expected -- they don't solicit donations -- but giving is good for the soul.
Why?
I covered the "What's the purpose" question back in "What" and "How". This one is more along the lines of the "Why" that my friends ask me: "Why take a 10-day vow of silence, do a 10-day retreat, spend 10-days sitting in a hall meditating for 12-hours a day?" "When you could be doing other things...why?"
Well...I can't say it's for fun. Because, to be honest? The course really isn't fun. But let me tell you this: after 50 weeks a year of dealing with people and being inundated with noise and information, 10 days of complete silence is utter bliss. And, of course, there's the meditation itself. I find the concentration helps me in my academic life. I find the equanimity helps me in my personal life. It changes outlooks. An example?
I got back to school from the course and discovered that, during our 5-week break, someone had stolen the seat from my bike, seat post and all. I could, I suppose, get angry; I could get upset and yell and rail. But I find that I have no desire to get upset. What purpose would it serve? Better to channel my energy more usefully: in reporting it to security and the police, to researching bike seats and buying a new one, to remembering in the future to bring my bike inside before I go away for a few weeks.
Or another example: I signed up to take a class in the Russian department that I don't really need to graduate, but that would be very interesting -- Russian folklore. It meets at a time that's somewhat inconvenient for me on Fridays, and since it's such a small class, I was told there was a good chance we could change the meeting time. Dandy! So I brought that up in class, and because it was inconvenient for another girl (she'd have to miss a number of classes over the course of the semester if we didn't change it), I figured it'd be possible. Boy, was I wrong. The boys in the class (boys will, I suppose, be boys) were adamant that their comfort in sleeping in until 1 on Friday afternoons was more important than our ability to attend class, and the majority ruled to keep it as it was. I was, understandably, disappointed. But rather than stewing for the rest of the day, I was able to keep my cool in a situation that, previously, I would have blown up in -- and I spent the rest of the day trying to figure out the best solution to my scheduling problem thoughtfully instead of emotionally.
That's why: it's kind of like having a toothache. I don't necessarily enjoy the operation (though like I said, 10 days of quiet? Bliss!), but I enjoy the happier existence after it.
How do you reconcile Buddhist meditation with your religion?
This is one that I get asked a lot when I tell people that I meditate, and it's a good one. If I didn't have an answer that suited me, I wouldn't meditate. But it's not so difficult as all that.
First of all, this is a meditation technique. It's not a cult. It's not even a religion. There is no worship of anyone or anything involved -- in fact, the teacher emphasizes over and over again that it must not turn into worship, or else you're missing the point. It's really quite non-sectarian in the way that a hammer is non-sectarian: it doesn't matter what your religion is to use a hammer; it doesn't matter what your religion is to learn how to be calm and equanimous through the storms of life.
But what about my religion in particular? What about Christianity? What about Mormonism?
I don't find that very difficult, either. The Thirteenth Article of Faith says that "if there is anything virtuous, lovely, or of good report or praiseworthy, we seek after these things." Futhermore, we put a fair amount of stock in Matthew 17:16-20:
16. Ye shall know them by their fruits. Do men gather grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles?
17. Even so every good tree bringeth forth good fruit; but a ccorrupt tree bringeth forth evil fruit.
18 A good tree cannot bring forth evil fruit, neither can a corrupt tree bring forth good fruit.
19 Every tree that bringeth not forth good fruit is hewn down, and cast into the fire.
20 Wherefore by their fruits ye shall know them.
And what have I found to be the fruits of this meditation? In short, I have found in it a way to become more charitable. I've developed greater compassion for God's children (and for His creatures, I dare say). I find myself less inclined to react negatively to situations, instead taking a more proactive approach to difficulties. I find, in short, good fruit.
Sure, it doesn't make me perfect. Anyone who knows me can tell you that -- I can be temperamental, I have my moods, my disappointments, my frustrations. But they don't last quite as long, and they aren't quite so bad. Really big, deep changes take time; but they never happen if you never start.
So how do I reconcile Buddhist meditation with my religious beliefs? As simple as this: I believe that Jesus Christ was the son of God, who came to Earth as an example of a perfect life -- and then who suffered for our sins and died and was resurrected that we, too, may someday rise again. And the meditation? I believe that it's a tool to help me become more like Him -- and the fruits of anything that helps me to become more Christlike, I believe, are good.
What about reincarnation?
Right. The Buddha taught about reincarnation: that full liberation means not being born again into future lives. And I'll grant that this technique is taught on an assumption of reincarnation -- because that's what the Buddha taught. And me? I don't know. I believe in reincarnation in one way or another: I believe that we were incarnated here on Earth, that we will die, and be incarnated again when we are resurrected. But further than that? I really, honestly, don't have a clue. I won't condemn it out-of-hand (because I don't think it necessarily has to conflict with Mormon belief about the pre-existence and eternal life), but I also don't really buy it the way it has been introduced to me (being born as a rabbit, for example, seems somewhat ludicrous to me). It's one of those things that I'm going to set aside for the moment -- one of the videos I want to watch in Heaven, as it were, along with how the world was really created (7 days? 7000 years? Millions of years?).
But that doesn't have any bearing on my meditation. Because it doesn't really matter what you believe -- whether you believe in reincarnation or not -- for good to come out of the technique. The actual practice is focused on observing what's happening in the present moment; belief has nothing to do with it.
Any other questions?
Those are the main ones that pop into my mind when I try to think of what someone would ask and want to know about the course, but I'm as fallible as the next person, and certainly not psychic (that's for, you know, when I've reached full enlightenment, right? ;). So, if you have a question, or desire clarification, or want to discuss, leave a comment or shoot me an email!
And for a bit more info and a bit deeper explanation of the meditation, check out:
Vipassana Meditation Website (especially see What is Vipassana? and The Art of Living)
And for some info on Buddhist philosophy in general, check out:
The Four Noble Truths and
The Noble Eightfold Path
I enjoyed the format of my BYU post so much, that I'm going to use a similar format on this one: questions and answers. I've thought of a number of questions that I would ask, and will provide the answers; if anyone has any questions that I haven't thought of, please, feel free to toss them into the comments section (or shoot me an email) and I'll be happy to answer them.
First, the usual suspects:
What is Vipassana meditation?
It's the form of meditation taught by Gautama the Buddha as the road to liberation from misery and enlightenment, and does so by removing the impurities of the mind. Basically, the Buddha said that life involves suffering. Can anyone deny it? I can't. It's true. There's suffering in life. There's joy, too -- can't deny that, either. But suffering is there. Why do we suffer? The Buddha then said that suffering is caused by craving and aversion: something that we don't want to happen has happened, and we react to it, and become miserable; something that we want to happen hasn't happened, and we react to it, and become miserable. Sure, sometimes what we want to happen happens, and vice-versa -- but life doesn't always go that way. After all, life's not fair, right?
That sounds kinda pessimistic, though, doesn't it? Which is why it's important for there to be a way to come out of suffering by learning how not to react to these sorts of things. And why not react to them? Intellectually, it makes sense to me: these disappointments are impermanent. Sure, something bad happens -- but it will change. Or I can change it. Similarly, if something good happens, I can rejoice in it -- but knowing that it will change eventually, I can be prepared for the change and not be let down when it happens.
The technique of meditation that they teach at these courses is just that -- a tool and a means whereby to come out of suffering.
How do you practice this meditation?
Vipassana comprises three important components: morality, concentration, and wisdom. What, exactly, are morality, concetration, and wisdom?
Morality. At the beginning of the course, every student takes upon themselves five precepts -- five things they won't do for the duration of the course. These precepts are:
1. To abstain from killing any being.
2. To abstain from stealing.
3. To abstain from all sexual activity.
4. To abstain from telling lies.
5. To abstain from all intoxicants.
Concentration. The first three days of the course, you learn a type of meditation, the purpose of which is to develop concentration. Minds wander -- heaven knows, mine does -- and in order to practice Vipassana, the mind needs to be focused. This technique helps to focus the mind by keeping it fixed on a single object -- one that is always there, whether you're aware of it or not: your breath. By focusing on the breath, and by bringing the mind back to it every time it wanders (without getting annoyed at it), you learn to concentrate deeply and to focus on the present moment, on the matter at hand.
Wisdom. This comes through the practice of Vipassana, which is a technique wherein you observe the immediate reality of the moment. Huh? you ask. Well, reality is what's really happening, right? And for something to be real, it has to be happening now, right? The past is the past; it was real and it happened, but it's not happening anymore. The future? Hasn't even happened yet, but will be real when it does. The present moment, then, is the only true reality, and in order to be focused on what is real, you have to be focused on the present.
Okay, so what's the technique? With a foundation of morality established -- so that you're not creating more defilements of the mind while trying to purify it -- and concentration -- so you can focus on the present moment -- the technique teaches you to observe the sensations that arise and pass away. And -- more importantly -- to remain equanimous. And then the wisdom: that everything -- every sensation, whether painful or pleasurable -- is impermanent. With that, with having experienced impermanence, it's not just an intellectual understanding, but a real understanding. And only then can the path out of misery be trod.
Where was this thing?
This particular course was at a Vipassana Meditation Center in Shelburne, Mass. There are centers all over the world, though, where the exact same courses are held -- same timetable, same technique, same code of discipline, same everything.
What does the course entail other than meditation?
Nothing, really. You take a 10-day vow of silence, and during those 10-days you meditate from 4:30 in the morning until 9:00 at night, with breaks for breakfast, lunch, tea-and-fruit at dinnertime, and an hour-long discourse from the teacher (to explain stuff) at 8:00. There's about 11 hours of meditation in there -- and this course, I pretty much meditated through all of them.
How much does it cost?
Ever the important question, especially to us college students! And happy is the answer: absolutely nothing. What? Free? Nothing in life is free! Right. But this is. And here's why: part of the Buddha's teaching has to do with dissolving the ego. And a good way to do that is to live on the charity of others -- and to give charity to others. So for 10 days, you become a monk or a nun and live completely on the donations of other people. The course itself -- the teaching -- is free. Why? Because money can't buy happiness. After the course is over -- and only then -- you can give donations to the center for upkeep and running future courses: that is, so more people can learn. But they don't allow anyone to donate who hasn't taken a course -- which I think is kind of cool, because it means that they function entirely on the charity of people who are grateful for and who appreciate the teaching. And nothing is expected -- they don't solicit donations -- but giving is good for the soul.
Why?
I covered the "What's the purpose" question back in "What" and "How". This one is more along the lines of the "Why" that my friends ask me: "Why take a 10-day vow of silence, do a 10-day retreat, spend 10-days sitting in a hall meditating for 12-hours a day?" "When you could be doing other things...why?"
Well...I can't say it's for fun. Because, to be honest? The course really isn't fun. But let me tell you this: after 50 weeks a year of dealing with people and being inundated with noise and information, 10 days of complete silence is utter bliss. And, of course, there's the meditation itself. I find the concentration helps me in my academic life. I find the equanimity helps me in my personal life. It changes outlooks. An example?
I got back to school from the course and discovered that, during our 5-week break, someone had stolen the seat from my bike, seat post and all. I could, I suppose, get angry; I could get upset and yell and rail. But I find that I have no desire to get upset. What purpose would it serve? Better to channel my energy more usefully: in reporting it to security and the police, to researching bike seats and buying a new one, to remembering in the future to bring my bike inside before I go away for a few weeks.
Or another example: I signed up to take a class in the Russian department that I don't really need to graduate, but that would be very interesting -- Russian folklore. It meets at a time that's somewhat inconvenient for me on Fridays, and since it's such a small class, I was told there was a good chance we could change the meeting time. Dandy! So I brought that up in class, and because it was inconvenient for another girl (she'd have to miss a number of classes over the course of the semester if we didn't change it), I figured it'd be possible. Boy, was I wrong. The boys in the class (boys will, I suppose, be boys) were adamant that their comfort in sleeping in until 1 on Friday afternoons was more important than our ability to attend class, and the majority ruled to keep it as it was. I was, understandably, disappointed. But rather than stewing for the rest of the day, I was able to keep my cool in a situation that, previously, I would have blown up in -- and I spent the rest of the day trying to figure out the best solution to my scheduling problem thoughtfully instead of emotionally.
That's why: it's kind of like having a toothache. I don't necessarily enjoy the operation (though like I said, 10 days of quiet? Bliss!), but I enjoy the happier existence after it.
How do you reconcile Buddhist meditation with your religion?
This is one that I get asked a lot when I tell people that I meditate, and it's a good one. If I didn't have an answer that suited me, I wouldn't meditate. But it's not so difficult as all that.
First of all, this is a meditation technique. It's not a cult. It's not even a religion. There is no worship of anyone or anything involved -- in fact, the teacher emphasizes over and over again that it must not turn into worship, or else you're missing the point. It's really quite non-sectarian in the way that a hammer is non-sectarian: it doesn't matter what your religion is to use a hammer; it doesn't matter what your religion is to learn how to be calm and equanimous through the storms of life.
But what about my religion in particular? What about Christianity? What about Mormonism?
I don't find that very difficult, either. The Thirteenth Article of Faith says that "if there is anything virtuous, lovely, or of good report or praiseworthy, we seek after these things." Futhermore, we put a fair amount of stock in Matthew 17:16-20:
16. Ye shall know them by their fruits. Do men gather grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles?
17. Even so every good tree bringeth forth good fruit; but a ccorrupt tree bringeth forth evil fruit.
18 A good tree cannot bring forth evil fruit, neither can a corrupt tree bring forth good fruit.
19 Every tree that bringeth not forth good fruit is hewn down, and cast into the fire.
20 Wherefore by their fruits ye shall know them.
And what have I found to be the fruits of this meditation? In short, I have found in it a way to become more charitable. I've developed greater compassion for God's children (and for His creatures, I dare say). I find myself less inclined to react negatively to situations, instead taking a more proactive approach to difficulties. I find, in short, good fruit.
Sure, it doesn't make me perfect. Anyone who knows me can tell you that -- I can be temperamental, I have my moods, my disappointments, my frustrations. But they don't last quite as long, and they aren't quite so bad. Really big, deep changes take time; but they never happen if you never start.
So how do I reconcile Buddhist meditation with my religious beliefs? As simple as this: I believe that Jesus Christ was the son of God, who came to Earth as an example of a perfect life -- and then who suffered for our sins and died and was resurrected that we, too, may someday rise again. And the meditation? I believe that it's a tool to help me become more like Him -- and the fruits of anything that helps me to become more Christlike, I believe, are good.
What about reincarnation?
Right. The Buddha taught about reincarnation: that full liberation means not being born again into future lives. And I'll grant that this technique is taught on an assumption of reincarnation -- because that's what the Buddha taught. And me? I don't know. I believe in reincarnation in one way or another: I believe that we were incarnated here on Earth, that we will die, and be incarnated again when we are resurrected. But further than that? I really, honestly, don't have a clue. I won't condemn it out-of-hand (because I don't think it necessarily has to conflict with Mormon belief about the pre-existence and eternal life), but I also don't really buy it the way it has been introduced to me (being born as a rabbit, for example, seems somewhat ludicrous to me). It's one of those things that I'm going to set aside for the moment -- one of the videos I want to watch in Heaven, as it were, along with how the world was really created (7 days? 7000 years? Millions of years?).
But that doesn't have any bearing on my meditation. Because it doesn't really matter what you believe -- whether you believe in reincarnation or not -- for good to come out of the technique. The actual practice is focused on observing what's happening in the present moment; belief has nothing to do with it.
Any other questions?
Those are the main ones that pop into my mind when I try to think of what someone would ask and want to know about the course, but I'm as fallible as the next person, and certainly not psychic (that's for, you know, when I've reached full enlightenment, right? ;). So, if you have a question, or desire clarification, or want to discuss, leave a comment or shoot me an email!
And for a bit more info and a bit deeper explanation of the meditation, check out:
Vipassana Meditation Website (especially see What is Vipassana? and The Art of Living)
And for some info on Buddhist philosophy in general, check out:
The Four Noble Truths and
The Noble Eightfold Path
2 Comments:
I've been meaning to thank you for posting this, but I kept getting side-tracked. I find the whole thing very fascinating and I'm going to look into it.
Very nice to read about your perspective, especially being a practicing Mormon. Keep on Keeping on!