The most obvious problem with the distinction between samatha and vipassanā is where to place meditative practices that combine the use of specific meditation objects (as in samatha) with an acceptance of thoughts and other random impressions within the field of awareness (as in vipassanā). In reality, few meditation practices make no use of meditation objects at all, even the practices that go under names corresponding to vipassanā.
Table 2.2. Samatha and Vipassanā
Samatha Vipassanā
Specific meditation object yes no
Acceptance of random impressions no yes
Some scholars solve the problem by routinely treating as concentrative any form of meditation that uses a specific meditation object, especially when this object is generated by the meditator (as opposed to spontaneous elements such as the natural breath or body sensations). Richard Davidson and Daniel Goleman, for instance, call Transcendental Meditation “a concentrative practice,”12 since it is based on the mental repetition of a mantra, despite the fact that its basic instruction explicitly tells the practitioner not to concentrate on the mantra and to allow thoughts to come and go. Other scholars acknowledge the problems involved in using the term “concentrative” this way and admit that “this suggests the limitations of the classification scheme.”13
Yet other scholars argue that meditation should be divided in three rather than two basic types. Thus, Deane Shapiro suggests a tripartite division based on the following “attentional strategies”: “a focus on a specific object within the field” (corresponding to samatha), “a focus on the field” (corresponding to vipassanā), and “a shifting back and forth between the two.”14 Fred Travis and Jonathan Shear make a similar distinction between “focused attention” (samatha), “open monitoring” (vipassanā), and what they call “automatic self-transcendence,” the latter covering “automatic or effortless” practices “marked by the absence of both (a) focus and (b) individual control or effort,” primarily referring to their interpretation of advanced stages of Transcendental Meditation, arguing that the three types produce different brain-wave patterns.15
Antoine Lutz et al. instead suggest that the solution lies in a combination of the two basic types. The practice of “open monitoring” (vipassanā) starts with “focused attention” (samatha), after which “the practitioner gradually reduces the focus on an explicit object in F[ocused] A[ttention], and the monitoring faculty is correspondingly emphasized.”16 In effect, this makes the distinction between the two types a gradient one, but at the same time it seems to imply that meditative practice should eventually lead in the direction of a pure form of “open monitoring,” in which the object of meditation is discarded. This ideal may exist within some traditions, particularly in some Buddhist practices, but is far from universal.
Other scholars have fewer qualms about acknowledging the use of specific meditation objects in forms of meditation that cultivate an open awareness. This is most often mentioned in connection with breathing meditation, as when Maria Ospina et al. discuss techniques that “focus on the breath and cultivate an objective openness to whatever comes into awareness,” or when Shapiro discusses techniques in which “the breath [is] used as an anchor (but not a focal point) to keep the meditator engaged with the present moment.” Other spontaneous elements used as meditation objects, such as body sensations, emotions, and mental processes, are also often mentioned in connection with vipassanā meditation.
Ospina et al. go one step further and include not only spontaneous meditation objects but also objects actively generated by the practitioner, such as Zen kōans and the active counting of breath. They conclude that the decisive point characterizing vipassanā (which they call “mindfulness”) is not the absence of a specific meditation object but the “acceptance of … other thoughts into the field of awareness.”17 Thus interpreted, the distinction between samatha and vipassanā resembles our distinction between a concentrative and nonconcentrative mental attitude, and thus comes close to the notion of directive versus nondirective meditation.
Concentrative versus Nonconcentrative Mental Attitude
A number of scholars maintain that it is the mental attitude that lies at the core of meditative practice.18 Some argue that the mental attitude is both the “path” and the “goal” of meditation, reflecting the confluence of practice and effect that is so widespread in meditative traditions. Some even insist that the mental attitude is not necessarily tied to any specific technique at all, but may be practiced at all times, whether, as many Buddhist sources say, “walking, standing, sitting, or lying down.” In many contexts, however, the mental attitude is also clearly treated as a technical tool for meditation, just like the meditation object with which it is combined.
Let us begin with some terminological clarifications. “Concentrative meditation” works to attain an exclusive focus on the meditation object, and seeks to avoid other elements, such as peripheral thoughts, digressions, and so on, while “nonconcentrative meditation” does not actively work to attain an exclusive focus on the meditation object but rather accepts the presence of both peripheral and digressive thoughts, in some cases even dispensing with the use of a specific meditation object altogether.
Concentrative practices are typically directive in that they often attempt to lead the mind toward specific states, sometimes tied to the thematic content of the object of meditation, and at other times to a state of one-pointed absorption in the object, or a combination of the two. The transformative power of meditation is at least partly seen as a product of such states. In contrast, nonconcentrative practices typically rely on technical working mechanisms, including nonthematic meditation objects, to open the mind and set in motion latent impulses at or beyond the peripheries of conscious awareness. The transformative power of meditation is seen, wholly or partly, as coming from whatever impulses are thereby brought into play, whether they are understood as obstacles to be overcome or as resources to be made use of.
This definition of concentrative meditation presupposes a distinction between concentration and absorption. Concentrative meditation involves an active effort to secure an exclusive focus on the meditation object by ridding the mind of peripheral thoughts and unintentional digressions. Nonconcentrative meditation may also include moments of complete absorption in the meditation object, without distracting thoughts, but not as the direct result of an active, goal-oriented effort, rather as a spontaneous effect of meditative practice. Much of the scholarly literature fails to distinguish between concentration and absorption, using the term “concentration” for both.19 Technical practice (concentration) and resultant state (absorption) are thereby blended in a single term, as is commonly done in meditative traditions. In translations and explanations, this may be excusable, since it reflects the polysemy of the original terms. In a scholarly typology of meditation techniques, however, the difference between concentration and absorption is of vital importance for our understanding of the distinction between concentrative and nonconcentrative techniques.
In the following, I shall explore further some implications of the basic distinction between concentrative and nonconcentrative forms of meditation by applying the following three subcriteria to descriptions of meditation in traditional sources from different periods and different parts of the Eurasian continent:
forceful vs. effortless focus on the meditation object
narrow vs. open focus on the meditation object
suppression vs. acceptance of distracting thoughts
On all three points, the first item of the pair refers to a concentrative attitude, while the second item refers to a nonconcentrative attitude. In reality, the concentrative and nonconcentrative features of different pairs can hardly be combined freely, but actual descriptions—or prescriptions—of one and the same meditation technique often vacillate between concentrative and nonconcentrative features.
All three of the points regard the relation between the intended object of meditation and other contents o
f the mind. In the following, we shall illustrate this by quoting traditional discussions of meditation, in particular the Chinese Buddhist master Hānshān Déqīng and the English country parson who wrote “The Cloud of Unknowing.”
First, if the meditation object is produced or focused in a forceful manner, this leaves less room for other elements. Sometimes this is done explicitly to keep random thoughts away, as when Hānshān Déqīng exhorts his disciples to produce the meditation object “forcefully [jílì, jíjí, zhuólì],” “as if exerting all the strength of the body pushing a heavy cart up the hill,” so that “when deluded thoughts arise, you just press the keyword [the meditation object] forcibly and they are instantly crushed to pieces.”20 Similarly, the author of “The Cloud of Unknowing” tells his disciple to use the meditation object to “hammer the cloud and the darkness above you” in order to “suppress all thought under the cloud of forgetting.”21 Conversely, if the meditation object is produced or focused in an effortless manner, this may leave more room for other elements to intrude. In fact, Hānshān Déqīng also tells his disciples to produce the meditation object “gently [huǎnhuǎn],” and to avoid “clinging to the keyword [i.e., the meditation object; sǐshǒu huàtóu].” Similarly, the author of “The Cloud of Unknowing” also instructs his disciple to “work with eager enjoyment [a list] rather than with brute force [liþer strengþe].”22 It may seem like a paradox that the same teachers produce what seem like opposite instructions in this regard. A possible explanation is that effortlessness comes only with experience. As “The Cloud of Unknowing” says, “What previously was very hard [ful harde] becomes much lighter [ful restful & ful liȝt], and you can relax [haue ouþer litil trauaile or none].”23 This corresponds to the observation made in a modern scientific context by Lutz et al. that “progress in this form of meditation is measured in part by the degree of effort required to sustain the intended focus,” and that “at the most advanced levels, … the ability to sustain focus thus becomes progressively ‘effortless.’”24 In such cases, effortlessness may no longer leave room for other elements to intrude.
Second, if the attention is narrowly focused on the meditation object, peripheral thoughts and impressions tend to be excluded from the field of awareness, while an open focus allows the simultaneous perception of both focal and nonfocal elements. The many words for “concentration” in the various meditative traditions, such as the “naked intent [nakid entente]” of “The Cloud of Unknowing,” the “one-pointedness [ekāgrata, ekatānatā]” of the Yogic and Buddhist traditions, or “guarding the one [zhí yī, shǒu yī, bào yī]” in early Daoism, may be interpreted as referring to a narrow focus in this sense. In “The Cloud of Unknowing,” this focus is directed toward God himself: “Indeed, hate to think of anything but God himself, so that nothing occupies your mind or will but only God.” It is hard to find texts that distinguish clearly between such avoidance of peripheral thoughts and the more often discussed avoidance of digressive thoughts, to which we shall return below. For the converse case, however, we do find texts that presuppose the presence of peripheral thoughts while the meditation object is kept in focus. In the Chinese context, the multiple meanings of the word niàn, which may mean “thought” (and “to think”), “mindfulness” (and “to be mindful of”), and “to recite,” give rise to interesting forms of word play: “Just let thoughts [niàn] arise, while you recite [niàn] the Buddha[’s name].”25
And in an even more playfully complex statement:
So the Tathāgata Buddha taught people to recite [niàn] the phrase “Amitābha Buddha,” in order to assimilate all their hundreds or thousands or 850 million random thoughts [zá-niàn] into single-pointed mindful awareness [yí niàn], and recite [niàn] until not a single thought [yí niàn] arises and they spontaneously get a fully realized view of Amitābha Buddha, then knowing that all their hundreds or thousands or 850 million random thoughts [zá-niàn] are in fact the mindful awareness [niàn] of Amitābha Buddha.26
Both statements are used to counter the claim that random thoughts constitute an obstacle to meditation, and both argue for the possibility of combining the focus on the meditation object with the peripheral presence of random thoughts; the second statement does so by invoking the notion of mindful awareness. In the end, though, the second statement seems to revert to what in the Buddhist context is a more conventionally negative view of random thoughts by insisting that the meditation practitioner will reach a state where they no longer arise.
Third, while peripheral thoughts occur simultaneously with the meditation object, distractive thoughts are spontaneous interruptions, intermittently occupying the mental focus that was originally reserved for the object of meditation. Negative attitudes toward distractive thoughts are common in meditative traditions; in both Europe and Asia, they are often referred to as “evil” or “deluded.” Tellingly, the Greek term logismoí, “thoughts,” which is often used to refer to digressions in meditative prayer,27 develops into a notion meaning “assaultive or tempting thoughts” and eventually forms the basis for the notion of the seven deadly sins. St. Hesychios the Priest (ca. eighth century) is a strong advocate of “watchfulness” against such thoughts or digressions: “If we have not attained prayer that is free from thoughts [logismoí], we have no weapon to fight with.”28 Within Buddhism, digressive thoughts are routinely referred to as wàng-niàn or wàng-xiǎng “deluded thoughts,” and since delusion is considered one of humanity’s primary problems, this is perhaps as negative as the sinful thoughts of a Christian. According to the Buddhist text “Atthasālinī,” attributed to the influential meditation scholar Buddhaghosa (ca. fifth century), meditative absorption (samādhi) is characterized by a lack of digressive thoughts: “This concentration [samādhi], known as one-pointedness of mind [ekaggatā], has non-scattering (of itself) [avisāra] or non-distraction (of associated states) [avikkhepa] as characteristic.”29 On the basis of the English translation, one could be tempted to take avisāra to mean “no peripheral thoughts” and avikkhepa, “no digressive thoughts,” but the Pali text hardly makes such a distinction, the direct meaning of the terms rather being “no floating aside” and “no casting away,” respectively.
Rather than suppressing digressive thoughts, some forms of meditation have a more exploratory attitude. Hānshān Déqīng represents a long Buddhist tradition when he urges his disciples to “watch diligently the place where a deluded thought arises and disappears, to see from where it arises and to where it disappears.”30 Even the “watchfulness” propagated by St. Hesychios the Priest involves some degree of exploration, of “scrutinizing every mental image or provocation,” though only in the name of “spiritual warfare” against “impassioned” or “evil” thoughts.31
Yet other forms of meditation attempt neither to suppress nor to actively explore digressive thoughts, but simply to go gently back to the meditation object once the meditator discovers that he or she has digressed, without any active attempt at stopping the flow of thoughts. This more accepting attitude may be reflected in the comparison of the wandering mind to a sexually aroused elephant made by the Jain scholar Hemacandra (1089–1172), who points out that the elephant will become calm and malleable if it is given what it seeks, while restrictions will make it stronger and more dangerous (see Johannes Bronkhorst’s contribution to this volume). The nineteenth-century Chinese Buddhist monk Yùfēng Gǔkūn also argues strongly that a “scattered” (sànluàn) mind is no obstacle to the recitative practices that he advocates.32 Acceptance of digressive thoughts is very widespread in modern approaches to meditation, such as the Taiwan-based Buddhist master Sheng Yen’s breathing meditation, and in the large number of methods influenced by Transcendental Meditation (including Centering Prayer, which reads like an amalgamation of traditional Christian recitative meditation and the principles of Transcendental Meditation). Another sound-based meditation form, Acem Meditation, goes one step further in not only accepting digressive thoughts but arguing for their importance for the pr
ocessing of physical and mental stress as well as deeper psychological issues.33
The simple acceptance of digressive thoughts, followed by a gentle return to the meditation object, is typically intended to set in motion latent impulses at or beyond the peripheries of conscious awareness, in a nonconcentrative way. This contrasts with some forms of “mindful” or “watchful” exploration of digressive thoughts, including vipassanā, which more often work to keep such thoughts at bay or to actively “let go” of them by including them within one’s mental focus. This latter approach frequently involves various degrees of concentration, ranging from the active fight against digressions of St. Hesychios the Priest to the much subtler attempts at reaching beyond “deluded thoughts” or leashing the “monkey mind” of Hānshān Déqīng and modern mindfulness practices.
Thematic versus Nonthematic Meditation Objects
As discussed in the previous chapter, the traditional Latin term meditātiō usually refers to discursive practices, while the modern and scientific interest in meditation more often focuses on nondiscursive practices, mostly of Asian origin. This distinction can be redefined in terms of thematic versus nonthematic meditation objects.
A thematic meditation object implies a focus on semantic, cognitive, or devotional content, such as a sacred text or image, a holy person, a deity, a moral virtue, an idea, or a concept. A nonthematic meditation object makes use of universal working mechanisms usually involving body, breath, or sensory impressions rather than semantic, cognitive, or devotional content. Various meditative objects may be placed at different points along a scale, from the strongly thematic to the entirely nonthematic, depending on the degree to which they seek to replace the spontaneous activity of the mind with predetermined cognitive or devotional content.
Asian Traditions of Meditation Page 7
