In the same way that consciousness and sense impressions are two aspects of one experience, consciousness receives stimulus, from which arises what the Buddha named as the second of the five aggregates—feeling (not emotions, but in the meditative context, the quality or tone of pleasantness, unpleasantness, or neutrality arising in every moment of experience).
Doubt is the fifth hindrance or difficult energy that we encounter in practice and life. We know when it arrives as a hindrance: the mind says, "What am I doing here? Does this mindfulness stuff really work?” “I can’t do this—others are sitting still like Buddhas, not me; maybe belly dancing would be better.” With fear and resistance, the mind flickers, is indecisive. What makes doubt particularly insidious is that it saps our energy—we stop looking and the light seemingly goes out of practice.
Continuing our conversation from last week, the notion of the insubstantiality of what we call self is unique to the Buddha’s teaching. Under investigation, the components of what we call “self” are distinct and constantly changing. It is impossible to point to a solid unchanging entity. It’s not to believe that you don’t exist—rather, to understand the constant flux of existence. It is this possibility of change that we entertain every time we meditate.
Importantly, development of the Wisdom aspect of the Noble Eightfold Path is grounded in seeing the ephemeral nature of what we call “self.” The Enlightenment Factor of Investigation helps us in this endeavor. When we actually investigate the components of self, what we find instead are 5 Aggregates—(“aggregate” is translated from an everyday term in Pali—kandha. The closest literal translation for kandha is “heap” or “bundle)—5 “heaps” or components of being—form, feeling, perception, mental formations and consciousness.
A common misapprehension about meditation is that its aim is to attain a peaceful uninterrupted state of bliss and luminosity. When we meditate, especially in initial stages of practice, what we often experience are emotions that may feel unbearable, or even wrong. Instead of bliss and light, we may encounter restlessness, aversion, low energy and difficult emotions. These may arise with physical manifestations—tightened throat or heart, burning sensations, shallow breathing.... It may feel natural to want to constrain, suppress, stop these all too familiar marks of our fear, anxiety, yes, imperfection.
The gift of mindfulness practice is that in any moment of anxiety or fear, we are called to open our hearts, to know we have the courage to be with even our deepest, darkest fears. An old Hasidic story says that the teachings are placed on, not in, our hearts, so that when the heart breaks, the teachings fall in. We hear, reflect on and put into practice, the teachings, so that in the turmoil of anxiety and fear loving awareness, into which we train our hearts, is our response—trusting that loving, compassionate, peaceful presence is what is most healing in the experience of the broken, anxious or fearful heart.
Practice is not limited to sitting meditation. In the Chan tradition, it is taught that the “Silent Illumination” evoked by practice can cover all our activities so that life does not become stressful as soon as we arise from the cushion. This is heart advice for “Silent Illumination” while working. The principles are the same for all activity:
What is the best response to our share of the joy and pain of the world? Are we tossed by the winds, inclining to exuberance when things go our way or to depression when they don’t? What evokes appropriate and balanced response?
Everyone’s life is, by nature, continually vulnerable to pain. Remembering this is the gateway to mudita (often translated as appreciative joy or joy for the joy of others), the third of the four Brahmaviharas (Boundless or Supreme States).
Compassion (Pali: karuna), the second of the four Brahmaviharas (Divine or Supreme states), is the spontaneous response of the heart of metta to suffering it encounters. Etymologically, “com” is “with” and “passion” is “suffering.” We are WITH the suffering, not above it with pity or rejecting it in fear. Compassionate response is based on the dignity, integrity and well being we know belongs to every creature, including ourselves, our feeling of mutual resonance and natural connectedness in the face of the universal experience of loss and pain.
