# Chapter 24. Disidentification Through Meditation
# 24.1. Principles of meditation
At the risk of being overly repetitious, we again remind the reader that this practice, like all other practices and indeed all activity, is never done by an individual because there are no individuals. If meditation happens, it happens. If it doesn’t, it doesn’t.
Of all practices, meditation is perhaps the most widely used because it can be used concurrently with any other practice, or it can be the primary or sole practice, and it lends itself to use by widely differing personality and body types. There is a common misconception among meditators that the aim of meditation is simply to quiet the mind. However, the ultimate aim of all meditation is to purify the mind–body and to become aware of our true nature. Since our true nature is pure Awareness, awareness is an essential ingredient at all times and this is the key to its effectiveness. Because pure Awareness is the Source of the body–mind, we can also say that the ultimate aim of meditation is to transcend the body–mind, which in turn is equivalent to disidentification.
Meditation simply consists of paying attention. It is possible to put our attention on any object whether it is inward or outward, or on the background or source of any object. The simplest form of meditation (but, in practice, possibly the most difficult) is to attend to the present moment (see Section 23.3). Suffering then disappears because in any present moment, there is no doër and there is no suffering.
Focusing on a task at work, on something being said, on something being read or on any other activity, are all meditations. When the focus is on a religious symbol or image, it becomes religious or devotional worship. However, most forms of meditation are delicate processes that can be learned only from an experienced teacher.
Vipassana (concentration-mindfulness meditation) is a Buddhist meditation that is without religious dogma or doctrine (see Section 14.6, Section 24.2). In this meditation, the contents of the body and mind are actively observed and investigated, without judging or trying to change or to expunge them. It can be used either in sitting or in activity, and is similar to self-inquiry (described in Section 23.2, Section 24.3). Another type of Buddhist meditation without dogma or doctrine, called Zen, arose in China and was transported to other Asian countries, and then to the West (see Section 14.7).
Although focusing with intense interest on an absorbing activity such as work or play tends to bring about disidentification from the ‘I’ because the ‘I’ is forgotten during the activity, it always returns after the activity ends. It also does not increase experiential or intuitive knowledge of one’s true nature.
Focusing on an object has the aim of quieting the mind with the intention that, from a quiet mind, the realisation that there is no ‘me’ may occur. It is this intense focus that tends to prevent thoughts from arising and allows a meditative state to set in. An object of focus may be a mantra, an affirmation, the breath, a body sensation, the third eye, an inner sound or light, an external object such as a candle, a divine symbol or the sounds from a meditation tape or C.D. Because effort tends to prevent clear seeing in this kind of meditation, the focus must be gentle and unforced. When thoughts arise, they are noted and the attention is again gently returned to the meditation object.
If a mantra is used, as in Transcendental Meditation, effortlessness is achieved by letting the repetition gradually occur more easily, and the mantra to become more subtle, eventually to continue completely spontaneously, and finally to disappear. At this point the observer may disappear also, with nirvikalpa samadhi (see Section 23.5) ensuing until the observer reäppears.
Many teachers teach that meditation requires sitting with the back erect, but some types of meditation, including inquiry, can also be done while lying down or walking, or in activity. When sitting, the eyes can be either open or closed, but generally people find meditating with closed eyes easier, and that is usually the way it is taught.
During meditation, the meditator frequently experiences the delightful bliss of a quiet mind. He or she soon learns that, not only during sitting meditation but also afterwards, disturbing thoughts and feelings have disappeared and peace continues, albeit usually only temporarily. These immediate rewards are powerful incentives to continue the practice. Bliss is the sense of I Am, or pure Presence (see [Figure 10.1](Chapter 10), Section 14.3, Section 23.4). I Am is beautifully described in a poem by Helen Mallicoat:
I was regretting the past
And fearing the future…
Suddenly my Lord was speaking:
“MY NAME IS I AM”. He paused.
I waited. He continued,
“When you live in the past,
with its mistakes and regrets,
it is hard. I am not there.
My name is not I was.
When you live in the future,
with its problems and fears,
it is hard. I am not there. My name is not I will be.
When you live in this moment,
it is not hard.
I am here.
My name is I AM.
However, there can be many experiences that a meditator has to pass through before this peace endures. Here, a teacher can be of great help so that the meditator is not blocked by them. Depending on the system of meditation and the teacher, these experiences are variously called stress release, unstressing, processing, catharsis or purification. They can be exalted and inspiring, but more often are disturbing, uncomfortable or even frightening. These are repressed emotions that come into awareness (see Section 17.5, Section 21.2), and that must be released before peace can endure. Their arising is necessary for continued progress, but they can be intense enough to tempt the meditator to abandon his practice were it not for continued encouragement by the teacher. Gradually they subside as disidentification progresses, and the periods of blissful and satisfying silence lengthen. There are also other signs of progress such as the appearance of exotic visual, auditory or bodily experiences that the teacher may sometimes point to in order to inspire the meditator to continue, although they are always phenomenal rather than noumenal in nature, and, in fact, are more distracting than useful.
Has meditation ever seemed to increase your fear, desire, anger or sadness?
In addition to the need for an experienced teacher, the support of a group is very useful because meditation in a group is much more powerful than meditating alone (see Section 16.1). This does not necessarily mean that it is more peaceful because meditating in a group may accelerate the process of mind–body purification. We must expect meditation to be a long-term practice in order for it to result in the end of our suffering.
# 24.2. Buddhist meditation
Enlightenment, as understood in Buddhism, is a profoundly and thoroughly embodied experience in which we discover the awakened state in and through the body. Buddhist meditation calls us from the disconnected and disembodied conceptual world in which most of us habitually live, back into direct contact with our somatic existence. Through exploring the body in a direct and naked way, we begin to discover that far from a limited and limiting phenomenon, the body itself is actually the gateway to the vast, unlimited field of our own awareness, the ‘natural state’ in which we can experience the freedom and joy of liberation. It is ironic, then, that for so many of us modern people, meditation is often a more or less disembodied experience in which we may even be seeking to maintain and strengthen our Western culturally reïnforced separation from our sensations, our emotions, our sexuality, and our earthy, raw and rugged experience of being a body. But understood rightly, the dharma and its practices provide us with exactly the means for finding our way back.
—Tibetan Buddhist teacher Reggie Ray.
Associated with Buddhist meditation is loving-kindness meditation, which is used to cultivate love towards oneself and others. Loving-kindness meditation can be brought in to support the practice of bare attention to help keep the mind open and sweet. It provides the essential balance to support our mindfulness meditation practice. It always begins with the self because it is impossible to feel compassion or love for somebody else unless we feel it for ourselves also.
The following loving-kindness meditation was adapted from pages 19–20 of A Path With Heart (1993) by Jack Kornfield:
At first this meditation may feel mechanical or awkward or even bring up its opposite, feelings of irritation and anger. If this happens it is especially important to be patient and kind towards yourself, allowing whatever arises to be received in a spirit of friendliness and kind affection. In its own time, even in the face of inner difficulties, loving-kindness will develop.
Sit in a comfortable fashion. Let your body relax and be at rest. As best you can, let your mind be quiet, letting go of plans and pre-occupations. Then begin to recite inwardly the following phrases directed to yourself. You begin with yourself because without loving yourself it is impossible to love others. These phrases not only express your aspirations, but are also prayers for the support of the universe in realising them.
May I be filled with loving-kindness.
May I be well.
May I be peaceful and at ease.
May I be happy and free.
Let the feelings arise with the words. It may help to flood the body–mind with light [see Section 16.4] when thinking them. Adjust the words and images so that you find the exact phrases that best open your heart of kindness. Repeat the phrases again and again, letting the feelings and the light permeate your body and mind.
Practice the above loving-kindness meditation for a number of weeks until the sense of loving-kindness grows. Apply it first to yourself, then to a loved person, then to a neutral person, then to a disliked person, then to a hated person (if there is one). Notice the results in each case.
Love can also be cultivated by meditating as follows. In this practice, we not only begin with ourselves, but we also include ourselves in it when we apply it to others.
Think “Love”, then flood yourself with light (see Section 16.3).
Then, think “Love” and think of a loved person, and flood both of you with light. Then do the same with yourself and a neutral person, yourself and a disliked person, and yourself and a hated person (if there is one). If the other person seems to be too distant, bring him close enough so that both of you are contained within the light.
Finally, with each exhalation, think “Love” and flood the entire world including yourself with the light of compassion. As different people appear in your mind, they will be immersed in this light. Rest there awhile.
Practice the preceding ‘love’ meditations, and notice the results in each case.
Vipassana consists of two types of meditation: concentration and mindfulness (see Section 14.6). The problem of the ego begins with the ‘I’–other split, which causes the ‘I’ to appear to be in the head, and the body to be separate from us (see Section 5.12, Section 11.6). Then, not only does the body appear to be separate from us, but so do all other objects. Concentration meditation heals this split by asking us to become aware of our body sensations and to feel them from the inside. This attention to body sensations can be broad, encompassing the entire body, or narrow, centred on a specific sensation such as the breath or a tightness in the solar plexus or chest, but it is always gentle and never forced.
Any other body sensation is also a suitable object of attention, but it is helpful to find one that gives us a feeling of peace and comfort. This is our refuge and anchor. If our meditation object is the breath, we remain attentive to it as best we can but we let breathing happen by itself. When we notice any intentionality in the breathing, we let it go. When we meditate this way, often we will become lost in, or identified with, a thought stream. When we become aware that this has happened, we simply return gently to our meditation object. We do this as often as necessary. This will create a feeling of global relaxation or equanimity that refines and purifies the mind, and allows us to observe the body–mind in all its subtlety, far below the level of ordinary thought and emotion. Attaining this degree of concentration may take years but it leads us to the awareness that there is no self, which is the mark of enlightenment.
In Genuine Happiness (2005), Buddhist meditation teacher B. Alan Wallace describes mindfulness meditation as a form of inquiry (see Chapter 23). It consists of the following four types of experiential investigation:
- investigation of body sensations;
- investigation of feelings (whether pleasant, leading to attachment and craving; or unpleasant, leading to aversion, including hatred, aggression, anger and hostility; or neutral, leading to mindlessness);
- investigation of mental phenomena and their source; and
- investigation of the nature of reality.
We then discover the three characteristics of existence:
- all experience is constantly arising out of nowhere, changing and disappearing into nowhere (impermanence);
- no phenomena can create happiness or peace (unsatisfactoriness);
- and the ultimate meaning of impermanence is that there is no self-existence in anything, either in ‘I’ or in any other object (emptiness).
We discover that meditation is like the rest of life for it does not always go the way we want it to. Then we discover that suffering ends as clinging and resistance end, in meditation and in the rest of life.
In mindfulness meditation, we experience directly what-is without trying to change it. For example, if we meditate in order to change something — whether an emotion, feeling or sensation — we are not meditating, we are resisting. But as we know from Chapter 21, resistance is suffering. Meditation to experience what-is without trying to change it allows resistance and suffering to fall away naturally. The basics of mindfulness meditation can be learned from books and C.D.s but, as with all meditation practices, an experienced teacher is necessary for continued progress.
Close your eyes for a few minutes. After the mind has settled down somewhat, focus on your breath and feel it from the inside. While still feeling the breath, do you notice any thoughts arising? From what do they arise? When they disappear, into what do they disappear? What does this experience imply about the existence of a thinker?
# 24.3. Inquiry in meditation
Self-inquiry puts attention right at its Source. We can practice this in the following meditation:
Close the eyes and sit upright. Go inward and downward and sense pure Presence. When the sense of pure Presence has stabilised, ask, “What is it that is Aware of Presence?”, and then look (see Section 23.3).
Now rest in Awareness.
Can you see that Awareness is what you are?
After some experience, the prompts are no longer necessary. Meditation by inquiry is possible whenever the mind is not overly occupied with other tasks, such as on walks, while doing mindless activity or while sitting quietly with eyes either open or closed. When the eyes are closed, it is easy to see that all thoughts bubble up causelessly from the background and then disappear back into it. These bubbles of mental activity are no different from any other forms that appear in Consciousness, whether the eyes are open or closed. It is only when the intellect becomes active and conceptualisation begins (separating and naming, see Section 9.2) that thoughts, feelings, emotions and body sensations appear (see Section 11.1), and only when identification begins that they appear to be separate objects (see Section 11.4).
When the eyes are open, we seem to be localised in the head, but when they are closed, we seem to be everywhere. Yet, in Section 9.2, we saw that the mind includes all objects, and the distinction between internal and external is purely conceptual. When the eyes are open, ‘external’ objects appear to have distinct, stable, three-dimensional forms, separate from each other and from the body. That is why they are so persistent and difficult to see through — that is the illusion of Maya (see Section 12.7, Section 20.5).
quoted on page 136 of Holy Sweat (1987) by Tim Hansel ↩︎
see, e.g., those by Jack Kornfield or Jon Kabat-Zinn ↩︎