forestofclarity

Darin, You'll find that all Buddhist schools generally agree on the Four Noble truths, the four dharma/dhamma seals, and dependent origination. The Four Noble Truths (paraphrased): 1. There is suffering. 2. Craving is the cause of suffering. 3. The end of craving is the end of suffering. 4. The end of craving is achieved through the Eightfold Path: Skillful View, Thought, Speech, Action, Livelihood, Effort, Mindfulness, and Concentration. This path is also divided into three: sila (discipline), samadhi (meditation), and panna (which grows from the others). The Four Dharma seals: 1. All things are impermanent. 2. All things are unsatisfying. 3. All things are not self. 4. Nirvana alone is peace. Some schools teach the skandhas, and some don't. Some teach the bodies, and some don't. A good primer on Chinese Chan is: Orthodox Chinese Buddhism

No mean to offend, Xabir, but the fact you illustrate your personal understanding with some one else's words suggests to me that in fact it is NOT a personal understanding at all.

Personally, I think the most effective method is the one that works for you. People are different. Some people are oriented towards thoughts, others toward feelings, others toward bodily sensations. Some people are devotional, some intellectual, some active, some passive. People have different genes, different conditioning, different cultures. In my mind, there is no one way for everyone. Different people need different things at different times.

LBD, I think you make a lot of good points in your post. Old school Theravada Buddhism is actually very much focused on the body. The body is the first of the four foundations of mindfulness. There are specific exercises for exploring this initial foundation, such as contemplation on the 32 parts of the body and the contemplation of the elements. Further, the body is the first of the 5 skhandas, under form. I think the old Taoist critique may be based more on certain schools of Chan Buddhism.

Some of my thoughts on beginning breath mediation: 1. You can just concentrate on the breath generally, wherever you feel it when you think of breathing. 2. You can concentrate on a single point, such as the contact on the nose. This is recommended because it is outside the body and does not cause tension like others may. It is recommended to concentrate on one point to prevent the mind from wandering. However, this area is close to some people's "thought space". 3. You can concentrate on the rising and falling in the abdomen, or the dan tien. For some, this is harder than practicing the others and may lead to bodily tension. However, one bonus I've found that the breath naturally tends to sink even when you're not meditating. This is my main way of focusing on the breath. I tend to be head centered so this is a good way to get into the body. 4. If you cannot concentrate, you can count the breaths. Some recommend keeping the count low, like 1-5, others 1-10. Some warnings: 1. Do not try to control the breath. 2. From time to time, you might want to check the body for tension and relax. Especially in the beginning, it is common to tense the body. This is especially true with tension in the head.

Of course, there are no experts and one is free to believe as we choose. I offer my opinions only as they are helpful, and of course they will probably change. My current understanding is that the Buddhist teachings of emptiness arose in part based on a disagreement in the Buddhist world. The old school, the Theravada, taught that all compounded things lack a self. However, the elements themselves had a self nature (svabhava). The prajnaparamita literature and the teachings of Nagarjuna and the Madhyamaka arose in part as a response to this. The teachings of emptiness were aimed specifically at self-nature, or essence, or an independent, enduring self. This includes even the elements. So to take an example, there is no essence of motion or an essence of a mover. The mover and the motion arise together and depend on each other. Without motion, there is no mover, without a mover there is no motion. This doesn't mean that things don't move (nihilism). Both motion and the mover lack an independent self-- they arise and pass away together. Realizing this leads to less clinging, and this is the Buddha way. Wu in Taoism, as described here, is different. This isn't to say that the ideas are not complimentary, I just don't think they are quite the same. In fact, in Chan, you see both used. In Chinese, different characters are used--- for the Buddhist emptiness, we see kong 空 instead of wu 無.

I'm not sure that is the analogy to make in my opinion. Emptiness in my mind generally refers to a lack. You cannot buy something with a lack of money, and so emptiness cannot give rise to something. Emptiness does, however, allow the arising and passing of things. Also, IO is a relational state, i.e. a useful mental concept. They are more along the lines of concepts, in my mind, than of things (or non things). I do think you can draw certain analogies with wu ji and tai ji and Buddhism, but I won't go into those now. One striking similarity is the method, at least with certain Taoists: wu wei and non-clinging.

Color.

The first obstacle is getting to the cushion. The second is knowing what to do when you get there.

The sages of Advaita tells us that all knowing consists of three parts: The knower, the instrument, and the object of knowledge. The knower cannot be the object, for if it were, it would be the object and not the knower. We can use our own instruments here: the eye is the instrument by which all things are seen, but it cannot (directly) see itself. The sages further tell us that whatever we know, that is not what we are. We can know the body, we are not the body. We know the energies of the body, we are not those. We know thoughts, feelings, intellect, ego--- we are not these. The ultimate knower is not an object, so if we say it has a specific shape or form, that it is like this or that, we confuse the knower with the objects. There is a correlation between the brain and the knower, but experience would suggest that the brain is the instrument, like the eye. The eye enables seeing, but there is no knowing in the eye. If we remove the eye, we do not remove the knower. While the body-brain develops and changes, the knower remains.

Allow me to add Padmasambhava's two cents from Self Liberation through Seeing with Naked Awareness: As for this sparkling awareness, which is called "mind," Even though one says that it exists, it does not actually exist. (On the other hand) as a source, it is the origin of the diversity of all the bliss of Nirvana and all of the sorrow of Samsara. And as for it's being something desirable; it is cherished alike in the Eleven Vehicles. With respect to its having a name, the various names that are applied to it are inconceivable (in their numbers). Some call it "the nature of the mind" or "mind itself." Some Tirthikas call it by the name Atman or "the Self." The Sravakas call it the doctrine of Anatman or "the absence of a self." The Chittamatrins call it by the name Chitta or "the Mind." Some call it the Prajnaparamita or "the Perfection of Wisdom." Some call it the name Tathagata-garbha or "the embryo of Buddhahood." Some call it by the name Mahamudra or "the Great Symbol." Some call it by the name "the Unique Sphere." Some call it by the name Dharmadhatu or "the dimension of Reality." Some call it by the name Alaya or "the basis of everything." And some simply call it by the name "ordinary awareness."

For me, it wasn't just one thing, but many things, over time. The practice and the teachings tend to rewire the brain, so to speak. I used to feel like I was located in my head, but now I feel that everything I see is taking place in an awareness. A crucial point came for me on a retreat. Toward the end of the retreat, my mind was very calm and clear. As I sat, I heard a dog barking. I noticed that my experience of sound (the noise) was a separate object than the instrument of sound (my ear).

I think it depends on the tradition. In Indo-Tibetan Buddhism, you hear emptiness to mean an absence--- specifically the absence of an enduring self. When Buddhism goes to China, you get this idea of wu to mean more than a mere absence, but a primal potentiality.

These arguments remind me of the Marxists in college who used to say that if you disagreed with Marxism, it's only because you were brainwashed by the bourgeoisie.

Assuming for a moment there is a difference between awareness and objects of awareness, I would argue that awareness is primary and the brain secondary. Why? Because the brain is an object of awareness. Like other objects, it arises and passes. So we experience awareness with different objects, yet we never experience different awareness. Accordingly, awareness strikes me as primary and objects (including the brain) as secondary. I can imagine awareness without objects, but I cannot imagine an object without awareness. Further, research in neuroplasticity shows that the mind can reshape the brain. Assuming that the mind is a product of the brain, this is like a movie changing the projector. Further, assuming material objects are insentient (a big assumption), then we have a conundrum. I see objects arising in awareness all the time, but I never see awareness arising in objects. To say the brain creates awareness is to say that insentient, specific matter gives rise to something sentient and formless. Looking at physics, the subtle tends to precede the dense, as the material universe formed from energy, not the other way around. One might even go so far as to say of the two hypothesis, it is more logical to conclude that the mind creates the brain rather than the brain creates the mind.

I've always found it helpful that experienced teachers often refer to anatta as "not self" (Thanissaro) or "no self as thing" (Shinzen Young). I heard a teacher the other day describe it as "nothing belongs to me". This is especially important in Buddhism because the SOLE purpose of Buddhism is to end suffering. Suffering comes from clinging/craving. Pure no self is untenable, because here we are experiencing the world. However, what it is we are is the problem. Fixing on a series of thoughts or bodily experiences leads to further problems.

I think the title to this thread is a little misleading. You can be present whether the mind is quiet or not. It is easier, especially at the beginning, when it is quiet.

It's becoming quite clear to me that the path isn't about attaining some state, but being aware of the various states you pass through. If you take enough snapshots, you can compare them to see what you're not.

I don't think this is something you can elicit thoughts about. It is something that is developed in one's practice. For me, it's not who, but what. What am I?

I agree completely. However, when we are still overly fascinated with objects, it is difficult to get much out of this practice.

His book is excellent, and has been recommended on this forum many times: Anapanasati Sutta

Prajna is a form of knowing. It comes from the word jna, as in jnani and vijnana, which stands for knowing. Then you have the prefix pra- which may mean several things, such as supreme, great, etc. (although David Loy translates it as spontaneous). So prajna is greater knowing. How do you compare such a thing?

Often in the West, enlightenment is described as a state. It is somewhere we go to, from here, which is considered ignorance. I think a lot of us think of enlightenment as a state of enduring bliss. But how did the ancient ones describe it? In Sanskrit, atma jnana, self knowing. In Zen and Chan, seeing one's original face.

Dao is not Dao, and Brahman is not Brahman. That is how they are alike.

For a paradigm, I prefer Indian Vedanta for metaphysics, Buddhist for practice, and Taoist for inspiration. Let me explain, and in the process, offend at least half the board. In my opinion, Indian thought is not so different from Western thought. You can find a lot of in depth, detailed analysis, no unlike Western science, but it is applied internally. Vedantans are able to speak clearly and precisely. It is fairly simple to pick up a book written by an ancient Indian sage and understand it. When it comes to practice, for a householder, I prefer Buddhism. Buddhism has the same analytical Indian roots, but more focused on practical psychology. There are also many great Buddhist teachers in this country, and it is typically easy to find a group to practice with, unlike Vedanta. Yet when it comes to pointing to the mystery, the subtlety, the undefinable quality of the Tao, no one can beat the Taoists.