In one of his discourses, S N Goenka explains that the four steps listed below take place in rapid succession within us, continually:
(Step 1) Consciousness: Through six senses (the five physical senses and the mind, which gives rise to thoughts), we come in touch with something that may be seen or heard or tasted or smelled or touched or thought. Through these six senses, we 'come in contact with something' or experience 'consciousness', which is called vijñāna in Pali.
(Step 2) Cognition, recognition: Some part of our brain recollects that in the past, we have experienced something similar to what we experienced in Step 1. Such recall / recognition is done by association: we identify the distinguishing features of the experience that arose in Step 1 and recall similar experiences from the past. Cognition is called sañña in Pali.
(Step 3) Sensation: A sensation arises somewhere in our body in response to what we cognized in Step 2. Sensations are called vedanā in Pali.
(Step 4) Reaction: We react with equanimity or craving or aversion to the sensation that arose in Step 3. Reactions are called saṅkhāra in Pali.
Turns out that the first 3 steps are autonomous — they are out of our control, either partially or completely. Step 1 is partially out of control in the sense that we cannot always choose what we get to see or hear or taste or touch or smell or think. Step 2 (cognition or recognition) and Step 3 (sensation) are also autonomous (out of control) — that's how our brain functions. The good news is that Step 4 (reaction) is something that we can fully control through practice.
How to verify consciousness → cognition → sensation → reaction? Buddha used to emphasize that none of his teachings should be taken on face value; all of his teachings must be verified through personal experience. So is it possible to verify that consciousness → cognition → sensation → reaction actually takes place inside us? Yes! Through meditation practice. Over time, our mind becomes sharper and sharper to notice these rapidly phenomena occurring inside us.
The word saṅkhāra is related to Step 4. It is a Pali word that is difficult word to translate into English. A single-word English equivalent is not available. Basically, saṅkhāra is the conditioning of our mind to react in a specific way (with craving or aversion or equanimity), given a specific sensation in our body. We all carry within ourselves a stock of saṅkhāras. A saṅkhāra comes to life if a suitable sensation arises to wake it up.
Using ordinary language, we have habit patterns to react (with craving or aversion or equanimity) when we face specific situations (when we see or hear or smell or touch or taste or remember something). Some of these habit patterns are known to us because we have conscious memories of how we have reacted in the past. Many of these habit patterns are 'sleeping volcanoes' in the sense that we don't have conscious memories of how we reacted to some situation in the past. Habit patterns of craving and aversion are called saṅkhāras.
At the moment when a sensation with the potential of triggering a saṅkhāra (reaction) of craving or aversion arises, at that moment we have an opportunity to re-train our mind and get rid of that saṅkhāra. What is the re-training? It is simply to react with equanimity (no craving, no aversion) towards that sensation. Re-training our mind to react with equanimity towards a sensation that arises is a deceptively simple concept. But that's truly it! That's the practice in a nutshell!
In one of the lectures, S N Goenka divides saṅkhāras into three types, depending upon their intensity. The first type is like a line drawn on water. Soon after the line is drawn, it disappears. Saṅkhāras of this type don't impact us much because they soon disappear. Another type of saṅkhāras are like lines on sand. If drawn in the morning, such lines disappear by evening. Finally, there are saṅkhāras that are like lines chiseled in stone. Such deep rooted saṅkhāras may take quite an effort to eradicate. Maintaining equanimity when such a saṅkhāra arises could be quite challenging.
During the 10-day course, when we start practicing Vipassanā meditation (or possibly even earlier, when we start practicing Breath Meditation), sensations corresponding to saṅkhāras that cause us the most misery (sensations which result in maximum amounts of craving or aversion) are among the first ones to arise. How does this happen? Well, it happens magically and rather mysteriously. It is some sort of 'law of nature' that when we quieten our mind via Breath Meditation and then start paying attention to body sensations in various parts of our body, sensations that cause us the greatest misery (the greatest amounts of craving or aversion) are among the first ones to arise.
When sensations arise that give rise to saṅkhāras of craving and aversion, the Vipassanā practice is to maintain equanimity towards these sensations. If we don't practice equanimity and instead generate even more craving or aversion, then we 'multiply our misery' in the sense that we start carving out deeper and deeper saṅkhāras — this is like a 'negative cycle'. In some sense, a saṅkhāra which was like a line drawn in sand starts becoming a saṅkhāra which is like a line chiseled in stone. So when we are practicing Vipassanā, we must make a sincere effort to practice equanimity to come out of misery (craving and aversion), otherwise we are setting ourselves up for even more misery in future. In other words, we must really understand what Vipassanā really is. This is a key point.
As the course progresses, many students start experiencing sensations which give rise to saṅkhāras of craving and aversion. During these moments, our practice of Breath Meditation helps us remain focused on sensations (instead of getting carried away by turbulent thoughts) and our practice of Vipassanā Meditation helps us maintain equanimity. Many students find it particularly challenging to maintain equanimity because the sensations (and the turbulent thoughts and the negative emotions that come along with such sensations) might seem overwhelming. During these days, a small set of students have an urge to run away from the course. Leaving the course is highly discouraged because by doing so, we are deepening our pre-existing saṅkhāras of craving and aversion. Instead, we should keep practicing equanimity with sustained effort and gentleness. In some time, storms of unpleasant sensations (and the concomitant turbulent thoughts and negative emotions) will pass away. Many students report that after a few hours, or after a few days of difficulties, they suddenly felt better! Some feel mentally light, some feel as if some fever is gone, some feel as if some pain has vanished. In order to have such a healing experience, it is important to keep practicing equanimity diligently.
The entire emphasis of Vipassanā meditation is on training ourselves to react with equanimity instead of craving or aversion, no matter what we cognize. It turns out that this is exactly the goal of various spiritual systems. Equanimity is no different from the concept of acceptance taught in Sufi & Bhakti Poetry and the concept of non-attachment in Advaita Vedanta teachings. What makes the Buddhist system unique is the understanding that our reaction to what we cognize (through seeing, hearing, touching, smelling, tasting and thinking) happens internally as four distinct steps: consciousness → cognition & recognition → sensation → reaction. We cannot control the first three steps. However, we can indeed control the last step: 'reaction'. Therefore, the Buddhist technique for developing equanimity / acceptance / non-attachment towards all phenomena that we cognize (physical or mental) is to practice equanimity / acceptance / non-attachment towards sensations.
By continually practicing Vipassanā, we realize three truths about our existence: 'anicca' (impermanence), 'anattā' (non-self) and 'dukkha' (misery), which are collectively called paññā (wisdom). What do all these terms mean?
Anicca (Impermanence): Soon after learning Vipassanā meditation, we realize that all sensations are changing: they arise and pass away. Even a dull ache or a tingling sensation is not the same. It keeps changing, moment by moment.
An intellectual understanding of impermanence at a gross level is available to all of us. For example, we know that our body, our environment, our thoughts — they all keep changing. Vipassanā helps us appreciate impermanence (anicca) at a much subtler level: at the level of body sensations, to which we react.
Remember that ordinarily, we believe that we react to things that we see or hear or touch or smell or taste or to thoughts. However, Buddhist philosophy teaches us that internally, we go through a 4-step process: consciousness → cognition → sensation → reaction. Our reactions are in response to sensations.
Anattā (Non-self): By practicing Vipassanā, we soon realize that sensations cannot be created; they are out of our control. S N Goenka warns us not to look for any specific sensation anywhere, otherwise we will be lost.
When observing sensations, we could also ask ourselves, 'Who observes these sensations?' which helps us make progress towards the Who Am I? question. Infer as follows: "Since I am the one who observes the sensations, I must be the 'witness', not the sensations themselves."
Additionally, since sensations are impermanent (they arise and pass away), does it make sense to say that 'I am this sensation or that sensation?' Associating I (something permanent) with sensations (something impermanent) is meaningless.
Other than sensations, whatever we cognize via consciousness (what we see, hear, touch, smell, taste or think about) also keeps on changing. So does it make sense to say that 'I am this experience or that experience?' Associating I (something permanent) with what we experience via consciousness (something impermanent) is meaningless.
The above concepts put together constitute anattā (non-self).
Dukkha (Misery / Suffering / Pain): As we continue to practice Vipassanā, we realize that we feel miserable only when we react with craving or aversion. When we react with equanimity, we don't feel any misery. This point is explained in more detail below.
In one of the discourses, S N Goenka mentions that two kinds of events in our lives make us miserable.
- Aversion: when something unwanted happens, we react with aversion towards such an event.
- Craving: when something that we want is not happening, we react with craving for events that occurred in the past.
What's an event? Basically, an event corresponds to something arising in our consciousness: something that we see, touch, smell, taste, hear or think about; a thought is also an event. It is important to realize that events are merely events, many of these are out of our control.
S N Goenka further explains that internally, we go through the following steps in rapid succession: consciousness → cognition → sensation → reaction. So actually, craving and aversion are with respect to sensations, not to events.
- Aversion: when an unpleasant sensation arises, we react with aversion towards that sensation that is occurring in the present moment.
- Craving: when a pleasant sensation is no longer available, we crave for that pleasant sensation that occurred in the past.
The absence of craving and aversion is called 'equanimity'.
Relationship with breath, emotions, thoughts and demeanor: S N Goenka further explains that when we are equanimous, our breath is deep, our emotions are positive (see The Four Brahmaviharas), we don't get lost in thought (we are able to focus our attention wherever we choose to) and our demeanor is pleasant (others can make out that we are in a positive state of mind). On the contrary, when we are not equanimous (when we are reacting with craving or aversion), our breath becomes shallow (shorter and harder), our ability to focus diminishes (we get lost in thought easily; our mind starts churning), our emotions are negative (we experience negative emotions like anger, hatred, ill will, fear, anxiety, depression, and so on) and our demeanor is unpleasant (others can make out that we are experiencing negative emotions). Through Vipassanā meditation, these relationships become quite clear. So if our attention goes to our breath, our emotions, our thoughts or to our demeanor, we can get a clue into our mental state: are we equanimous or non-equanimous (afflicted with craving or aversion)?
Duration of Misery: Depending upon the intensity of our misery (the degree of our craving or aversion), we dwell in it for a few seconds or minutes or hours or days or weeks or months or years or lifetimes. With Vipassanā meditation, we train our minds to shorten this time period.
Ideally, the amount of time spent in misery should shorten to zero. Practically speaking, students notice that when they return to their regular life after the 10-day course, they don't roll in misery for as long as they used to; they are able to recover their focus, their peace n joy much faster. How come? Due to our sustained practice of equanimity during the 10-day course, our mind gets trained to respond with equanimity to sensations automatically; we don't have to consciously make this happen. Of course, if we become cognizant of short breath or mind churn or negative emotions, we can consciously invoke the practice of equanimity as well.
Spreading of Misery: When interacting with others, a miserable person spreads misery; a peaceful person spreads peace; a joyful person spreads joy. Basically, we spread to others what we are inside. To understand this concept, recall some interaction with a person afflicted with grief; how did you feel after spending time with that person? Or recall an interaction with a person afflicted with anger, or anxiety, or fear. How did you feel after the interaction? Now recall an interaction with a person full of peace and joy. How did you feel afterwards? In fact, how do you feel right now, as you remember all these people?
Just like we get affected by others' state of mind (positively or negatively), we affect others' state of mind (positively or negatively). It is important to understand this point.
Many people report that after the 10-day course, events that bothered them earlier do not bother them any more. They become more peaceful and pleasant, such changes being noticeable in their demeanor by others. At the same time, students become more compassionate. How does that happen?
The Storm: During the practice of Vipassanā, sensations arise that trigger saṅkhāras of craving and aversion. These saṅkhāras exist because we have reacted with craving or aversion in the past, in response to similar sensations. Concomitant with these saṅkhāras are shortness of breath, turbulent thoughts (mind churn) and negative emotions (feelings of anger, hatred, ill will, depression, anxiety or fear). We may also have physical symptoms like trembling or weeping or agitation. We may or may not have memories of events that trigger these turbulent thoughts and negative emotions. Sometimes, such memories are missing; some people experience 'abstract fear' or 'abstract anger' which they are not able to associate with any memory or any past event.
Self Compassion: When a storm has arisen, we assiduously practice Vipassanā. In other words, we re-train ourselves to react with equanimity instead of craving or aversion. With such re-training, we feel peaceful and joyful. While this healing process is ongoing, we realize that we have been quite miserable in the past, and that we have spread misery to others. So the healing process (of generating equanimity) is also a process of generating self-compassion (forgiving ourselves for the negative reactions that we generated in the past due to which others were hurt) and compassion for others (a desire to help others become peaceful by helping them understand what makes them miserable and how they may come out of their misery).
Compassion for aggressors: A surprising outcome of the healing process is that when we witness an aggressor and a victim in real life, we develop compassion for the aggressor as well (maybe even more so) because we are able to recognize that the aggressor is most probably far more miserable than the victim. With this understanding, we can appreciate saints like Jesus Christ who had great love and compassion for people who were physically harming them.
Loving-kindness Meditation: Towards the end of the course, we are taught mettā-bhāvanā (cultivation of loving-kindness) which also helps us develop compassion for everybody. However, this meditation must be done only if we are feeling calm inside, without an iota of negativity.
Buddhist texts are vast and deep. They describe the healing mechanism underlying vipassanā in great detail. Lacking sufficient knowledge of Buddhist vocabulary, I have presented my broad understanding of the healing mechanism in plain English above. My understanding is based on my personal experiences at the 10-day courses, and my understanding of instructions and discourses by S N Goenka.
Opening Up is a healing technique commonly found in positive psychology books. The idea is to open up our thoughts and feelings to a loving, non-judgmental confidant.
Psychotherapy and hypnotherapy also involve opening up. These techniques involve two persons: the client and the therapist. The therapist helps the client come to terms with painful or distressing events in earlier life by revisiting those events, reliving that experience and seeing these events from a third person's perspective. Sometimes, we actually forget the events themselves but we retain abstract anger or abstract fear in us and our mind gets trained to react with negative emotions in certain situations. A therapist helps us change the habit pattern of mind so that we no longer react with emotions like anger, hatred and fear in such situations.
Vipassanā meditation is also an 'opening up' technique. The therapeutic process is similar to psychotherapy or hypnotherapy, but there is no specialist guiding our thoughts. In fact, we play both roles (the client and the therapist). First, the mind is made tranquil and sharp with breath meditation. Then, when vipassanā is practiced, memories and sensations associated with painful or distressing events in our lives automatically start becoming prominent. Maintaining the practice of equanimity from the fifth day onward is particularly challenging because we have stirred a storm that makes our mind turbulent. At the same time, through breath meditation, we have also acquired the ability to weather the storm by remaining unperturbed. So with perseverance, during vipassanā meditation, we observe sensations as they arise and pass away, with equanimity (without aversion or craving). This process heals us.
Even after realizing some wisdom (paññā) about truths like 'anicca' (impermanence), 'anattā' (non-self) and 'dukkha' (misery), we got to keep practicing Vipassanā until all 'impurities of the mind' ('mental defilements') have been eradicated. This requires practice, practice, practice.
Of great concern are the saṅkhāras called 'sleeping volcanoes'. These are impurities of the mind which reside deep inside us (in our 'sub-conscious') but have not manifested themselves as behavioral problems yet. It is only through eradication of all the saṅkhāras of craving and aversion, including the 'sleeping volcanoes' that we reach the goal of nibbāna (liberation).
Something interesting that I learnt during the meditation camp was Buddha's classification of questions into three categories: relevant, irrelevant and unanswered.
Getting out of the forest: Imagine that you're lost in a forest and you meet a guide who knows the way out of the forest. Questions related to the way of getting out are relevant. Other questions are irrelevant. For example, counting the number of trees and studying the color of their leaves would constitute 'irrelevant' questions. Basically, Buddha is imploring us to focus on questions that help us understand the techniques that get us out of misery; other questions are not helpful towards that goal.
The Unanswered Questions: Buddha did not answer some questions: see The Unanswered Questions. These questions are: Is the world eternal? Or not? Or both? Or neither? Is the world finite? Or not? Or both? Or neither? Is the self identical with the body? Or is it different from the body? Does Buddha exist after death? Or not? Or both? Or neither?
Basically, finding answers to the above questions doesn't help us get out of misery. Thus I learnt something important: instead of finding answers to the philosophical questions listed under The Unanswered Questions, I should simply focus on cultivating equanimity and let nature do its work.
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