Hello. This first post may eventually serve as an index for posts in this thread, but that's a little ambitious yet; we'll see if I have enough to say to make it necessary.
For now, I'll write an introduction: my journey to find meditative absorption, the jhanas, and the GWV.
Introduction
I'm a generally irreligious person, though -- paradoxically -- I've always loved and been fascinated by mysticism, ritual, esoterica, the occult, theology, and the rest. I've enjoyed learning about all kinds of beliefs, philosophies, and practices, but rationality has been my guiding principle.
This has meant that I've looked at, and subsequently rejected, a lot of claims about reality. However, in encountering Buddhism, I found something different.
I immediately felt that its framework, at least, made sense: I had seen too much acute suffering to blithely dismiss it as anything less than a central issue; and it seemed clear that our own thoughts and minds are our uncontrolled tormentors. So the philosophical basis of Buddhism wasn't dubious in itself or planted on material facts which science has dispensed with -- two common failures -- and further, it didn't make a virtue of blind faith... a part of previously-examined paths which has always been anathema to me, having seen just how far wrong it can go.
Committing to a system of thought because it "might be" right is like jumping off a cliff and flapping your arms:
this time might be
the time it finally works, but a lot of people have crashed before you.
But did Buddhism
actually work? It seemed
plausible, to me, which -- in this arena -- is impressive in itself; but even better, and perhaps uniquely: there was
evidence. It is recorded: Thich Quang Duc found such a state that even self-immolation did not penetrate his absorption; an unnamed Tibetan or Kashmiri monk effaced his senses so fully in contemplation that he did not feel a robber's sword; and, a bit less gruesomely, Tibetan monks had, demonstrably, the ability to control body temperature. (The first and the third are well-known; the second is recounted in
Mystics and Magicians in Tibet.)
Of course, more research revealed health and particularly mental health benefits from meditation, but I was less concerned with healthy living -- or the specific details of the aforementioned cases -- than with what these feats portended: evidence that meditation could do something extraordinary. (Controlling body heat or living longer are nice, but that's not what impressed me directly: these were signposts to the fact that something was special about meditation.)
No other practice had so much as a party trick to its name, as far as I'd seen; Buddhism -- or rather, meditation -- had evidenced at least remarkable control over the brain and body, and at most, perhaps the actual cessation of suffering.
(As an aside, Jhananda has written that he believes all cultures to have traditions equal in insight. It's my thought that it's probable that all or most cultures have produced
individuals equal in contemplative/ecstatic attainment, but that Buddhism -- and to a similar extent, tantra/yoga/Vedanta -- have done the best job of
recording and systematizing this knowledge. As Jh. also notes, many other traditions muddy the waters with articles of faith, vague or non-standard language, etc.)
Varieties of Buddhism
So, from the beginning it seemed obvious to me that meditation had to be the "heart" of the Buddha's teachings; that what I would now call
phala came from meditation and absorption, rather than philosophy or ethics. Reading the Pali suttas confirmed it... so I was puzzled when I began to explore Buddhism in earnest, and found that for many, it was something entirely different.
For some, it seems, Buddhism is sort of a way to lead a more moral, compassionate life... the Buddha, a supernaturally loving figure to emulate; mindfulness and meditation, a remembrance that you ought to be kind. This is related to, and often mixed with, a sort of vague, New-Agey dilution of the Noble Path into an unobjectionable "art of living" (as criticized by
Bhikkhu Bodhi); meditation is a way to relax, the teachings a way to enjoy your possessions more. No need to challenge yourself; no need to consider new ideas, or look beyond life as you've known it... liberation and attainment safely not just in another life, but erased from consideration entirely.
How lame, how dispiriting, to have ecstasy and liberation transmuted to just being a little nicer, a little calmer! To be sure, niceness is important and I admire it more than any amount of ability plus cruelty; but that juiceless alchemy staggers me in its sheer missing-of-the-point. It is as if Zeno of Citium had come down to us as the founder of a doctrine stressing hedonistic abandon and attachment to possessions.
(I intend to write a little, in the future, about a few of the webpages and teachings that push similar views.)
Another interpretation of Buddhism saw it turned into a messianic religion, much like those in the Abrahamic mold: a source of words that will possibly put you in heaven later, through invisible and unknowable means. As Jhananda notes (in an article I will link when I find it again), many people seem to want the sage or arahant to be an impossible, superhuman figure. In Pure Land-style Buddhism, there were sages that did glorious things and achieved nibbana -- but there are no instructions, no ways for a mere human
now to do anything but pray and die.
Indeed, of all the main varieties of Buddhism, only two, possibly three have not made a god of Siddartha Gautama; the rest seem to have completely dismissed the Buddha's words on theological speculation and his own divinity or lack thereof.
In Tibet, they didn't entirely lose sight of the basic aim of liberation through right effort, at least; but it was mixed in with laborious preliminary practices and ritual, closely-held mystical empowerments, guru and lineage worship, and various supernatural figures. I believe there
is value in many of these innovations -- but also that many became lost in them as ends unto themselves; and once again, any kind of real attainment was often set safely far-off in other lives.
Similarly, Zen and Ch'an have a core of recognizably Buddhist theory, and perform contemplative exercises. However -- again, as mentioned by Jhananda -- these traditions seem to have lost sight of progression in self-transformation, often waiting for a sudden intellectual realization, and rejecting mental training/
phala as misleading or pointless. (Western traditions often suggest that Zen aims merely at calming the mind so you may peacefully engage in everyday activity, which is no bad thing but also no very special thing. I'm not sure whether this is a Western mutation, or a faithful rendering of Japanese attitudes.)
Theravada, of course, remains closest to what Siddartha Gautama probably expounded around 560 B.C. Theravadin monks meditate to free themselves from dukkha and samsara, read the Pali suttas (at least in theory), and don't depend on deities, empowerments, or rebirth to gain attainments. I considered myself a Theravadin Buddhist for a long time, if a somewhat eclectic and heterodox sort.
Awakening to Contemplation
I
was puzzled by the emphasis on vipassana as a separate -- and "better" -- practice from samatha, but I uncritically accepted that contention (until I read the essays on the GWV main site). It seemed clear to me that the Buddha wasn't talking about an enlightenment or path that could be reached through normal cognition, and yet that was often presented as the "highest" way. Samatha? That's for the blunter minds among us, or such is the impression often given.
It was suggestive to me that supernatural or "bene-natural" powers were considered to be the province of samatha, and that it was associated with other contemplative traditions as well; and, as written in the
essay on the persecution of ecstatics, if living by the precepts and thinking on the philosophy were the only "engines of enlightenment", why would it be that sorcerers could manifest insight (albeit inferior) and power as well? What were
they doing to peer outside their ordinary reality?
So I rejected the idea that the central insight of the Tathagata was something along the lines of "just be in the moment", or "simply enjoy life", or "just cultivate love", or the other, similar messages, though that's not to say that these things cannot be important. I was certain the practice of meditation was key, and -- whether through arrogance or optimism! -- I never doubted that one could achieve enlightenment in this very lifetime. After all, it is recorded as happening in the Buddha's time (and, suggestively, it seemed that those who had already practiced "samathic" meditation needed only a slight push to become arahants).
But I was still under the sway of "dry", vipassana philosophy, albeit rebelling against it to some extent. I accepted its premises: Buddha as a Stoic, vipassana as a separate practice, samatha as "lower"... but I still practiced what they called samatha, and I still looked for information on meditative attainments, or paths or communities that emphasized them. I love and respect scholarship, and I am actually heavily inclined that way -- I have spent years reading piles of books and monographs on obscure nuances of particular historical Buddhisms, before I ever once sat down and tried myself -- but whenever I encountered a teacher or tradition with some variation of "
x emphasizes intellectual achievements above experiential practices...", it was a disappointment, because I knew there was something missing there.
Finding the Jhanas
It was quite a while before I found any information about the jhanas. When I did, it was another moment like that when I encountered Buddhism itself -- an immediate sense that here was something important and true. As I'm sure everyone here is aware, you can read entire books on Buddhist practice without more than a passing mention of the jhanas -- if you get one at all.
I was amazed at what I had been missing. In the relevant suttas, the entire practice is laid out; they provide, simultaneously, an instruction manual and a motivation: here is what to do, here is what will happen, here is the fruit of your practice. I didn't realize it at the time, but they also put in doubt the "dry" doctrine of separate practices and the primacy of scholarship over experience. I did realize, though, that the canon itself confirmed a roadmap of meditative experiences -- and achievements possible for anyone.
It was while searching for information on kasina meditation, after reading about jhana-nimittas, that I saw a link to the Great Western Vehicle site. I almost didn't click on it; "great western vehicle? That doesn't sound historical or traditional..." I had been let down by modern interpretations before, and I am a historian by nature. Luckily for me, I got over my "historical bias" and clicked!
The Great Western Vehicle
Allow a brief digression: it does not tend to inspire confidence to realize that the person who is supposed to be teaching you to reach exalted states has no personal experience of them. For example, I once heard a purportedly knowledgeable teacher of Zen mention that meditation "does not change your mind, or bring another state of mind; it is your ordinary mind, just less cluttered." Well, no wonder he seemed so ordinary: he was only
practicing to be ordinary! You might as well vegetate in front of the TV for a bit. That will give you an ordinary state of mind too.
By "ordinary", I mean he seemed no less prone to anger or boredom or other distress than I. A teacher does not have to be perfect, but if the only benefit you draw from your spiritual practice is momentary relaxation, I am not very interested -- I have ways to relax already. So to find someone who
has personally experienced meditative absorption, and knows what works and what doesn't...
As I have described to Jhananda in an e-mail, it was like drinking a long draught of cool water after hiking in the desert, or finding a map after driving in circles in a strange city. The clear sense of these essays was life-changing, after so long of dimly sensing that my practice seemed to be pulling me in a different direction than that which the things I read kept insisting upon.
Here was someone outright saying what had seemed clear (yet been purposefully obscured) all along: meditation
is the heart. The jhanas
are the key. There is no timidly reworking the ideas into a simple extortion to traditional morality; no lazily deferring effort and attainment to another life, or on another being; no dilution of doctrine until "enlightenment" becomes just another word for "ordinary life but with lots of scholarship."
Instead, a simple but unafraid, peaceful but powerful message: the Buddha meant what he said, enlightenment is out there, and it's not just a metaphor for being nice or unstressed.
Truly it is labeled the
Great Western Vehicle!
Postscript
Thank you for reading (if you're down here because you did). I intend to post a summary of what I've said here, soon.
Also coming up: criticism of certain webpages, details of current practice, out-of-body experience PDF I found, and the relation of a few strange experiences I have had.
