On the other hand, when Anahata is dominant or even more so, I do a meditation of observing thoughts.

I'm just saying that I've been doing this recently, and it's not necessarily something you have to do, nor am I recommending it. It's more like a meditation journal.

I think there are a lot of misunderstandings about meditation. While stopping thoughts is a basic element of meditation, there is also a type of meditation called "observational meditation."

Concentration and observation are elements of meditation, and neither can stand alone. However, there seems to be a basic stance that determines how to proceed depending on the stage of meditation.

One such criterion seems to be whether Manipura is dominant or not, or whether Anahata is dominant or not.

If Manipura has not been reached, there are still quite a few lower desires remaining, so I think you can't access higher consciousness unless you stop your thoughts. Therefore, meditation becomes a way to stop thoughts.

Even if Manipura has been reached, you can control yourself to a certain extent and become a "good person," an "ethical person," or a "respectable person." However, I still feel that there are still some lower desires remaining.

On the other hand, when Anahata is energetically dominant or more so, it seems that you can go beyond that and enter a state where higher consciousness is dominant, so you can start observational meditation.

I meditate, and first, I focus on the area between my eyebrows. Then, I use a mantra to stabilize my consciousness.

As my consciousness becomes fixed on the area between my eyebrows through the mantra, my thoughts gradually become calmer.

Uncertain and blurred thoughts disappear, and only clear thoughts remain.

It's as if I'm riding a bicycle through puddles after a rain, and the feeling of being careful not to get splashed while pedaling, and the sensation of lifting my awareness upwards to avoid touching the blurred consciousness below, feels similar.

When meditating while focusing my awareness upwards and being careful not to touch the blurred consciousness, even if there are occasional thoughts or slight reflections, I don't seem to get caught in a chaotic and uncontrolled loop of consciousness as much.

And when I continue meditating in this controlled state, I sometimes feel a brief flash of light, lasting about 0.1 seconds.

Actually, I have my eyes closed, so this might be a flickering of the lights due to unstable electricity, or perhaps due to the weather. However, it doesn't seem like there are very frequent or large flashes of light. The frequency seems too high.

Previously, even when there were flashes of light, they weren't very frequent, and it's often said as a basic principle of meditation that "even if you see light, it's not important and you should ignore it." However, I'm a little concerned about why the frequency has increased so much.

Previously, when I occasionally saw light, it was quite strong, but the frequency was low. The light I'm seeing today isn't very strong, it's more of a faint glow, but I'm probably seeing it every few minutes, so the frequency is high.

Is it that a specific area in my brain is becoming activated, or is something outside being faintly recognized as light? I will continue to observe and see what happens.

Previously, when chanting "Om," the "A" resonated in the forehead or head, the "U" in the chest, and the "M" in the lower abdomen. The same was true when chanting ancient mantras, with the resonance spreading from the head to the lower body. Initially, the head resonated, and then, as the mantra progressed, the lower abdomen resonated.

However, during today's meditation, the same mantra resonated primarily in the head, especially the forehead.

While the chest still resonates somewhat, the lower abdomen is not as pleasant, so I have been chanting the mantra fewer times and extending the periods of silent meditation. Today, only the head is resonating, so I can continue chanting the mantra for a longer time.

As a result, a subtle, rumbling vibration, like an echo, began to be heard, resonating with the finer details of the mantra. The sound itself is small, as if it were coming from a distance, but I feel as if it is resonating near my head. It is a strange, mixed sensation of being both distant and close.

As this continues, I feel the resonance shifting, concentrating in the forehead or the back of the head, with the resonating areas changing subtly.

Occasionally, I feel the resonance extending slightly towards the top of my head.

However, it doesn't feel like the resonance is fully connected to the top of my head yet.

While chanting the mantra, I saw a small, stone-built house, or perhaps a half-tent structure, in a mountainous wilderness, possibly in Tibet. In front of the house, a slightly plump Tibetan monk was sitting, offering blessings to passersby.

...Who is this? What is this?

It might be a memory of a past life, but I cannot be certain. The sky is blue and clear, and there is little green on the mountains.

Could this be someone who resonates with this mantra? Or is it simply an imagination?

Well, I don't know who it is, but I will continue to observe.

After reaching a state of stillness, it becomes possible to maintain that state while living. However, while living, one may fall out of that state or the consciousness may become blurred. In such blurred states, meditation can help to return to a pure state of consciousness.

Therefore, if one can maintain a pure state of consciousness, there may be no need to meditate. However, generally, meditation brings about some kind of change, so meditation is beneficial.

This awakened, pure consciousness is generally called "samadhi." It is a state in which the mind, which has a kind of slow-motion sensation, perceives the world.

In general consciousness, the mind is blurred, and the mind itself cannot clearly perceive the world. In a blurred state of mind, one lives by reacting to imagination and external stimuli. However, when the mind becomes clear, and the mind itself, the "rikpa" in Dzogchen, begins to move, the state of samadhi is achieved.

Living while maintaining this awakened state of samadhi is, I think, the path that eventually leads to "enlightenment."

In Dzogchen, the state called "cherdor" or "shaldor" involves the following:

Shaldor is expressed by the image of snow melting as it falls into the sea. In this case, the snow represents the relationship with objects through the senses, that is, afflictions, and shaldor means "arising and dissolving simultaneously." - "Rainbows and Crystals" by Namkai Norbu.

This state of "becoming less susceptible to afflictions" occurs in various ways and at each stage of meditation. Therefore, it can also be said of the initial, slightly blurred state where one is not easily swayed. There are also stages where this "simultaneous" release occurs.

Some people may be born with a tendency to be "less susceptible to afflictions and desires." This varies from person to person, and it may be true in some cases. However, on the other hand, there are also cases where the mind simply thinks that way through imagination or its own logic, but it is not actually the case.

In reality, what this "instantaneous" release is like cannot be known until one experiences it, and it may still be in the future. This is the same for me. The state I am in now may be at a lower level. With that in mind, I continue to meditate.

Until now, "summer day" has been a state of slow motion or stillness. However, recently, a sensation like a horizon has begun to appear in my field of vision.

After finishing meditation and checking my field of vision, when I am in a state of stillness, I can clearly see the walls of the room, and I feel a sense of slow motion. In addition to that, sometimes, what should be just a wall creates an illusion of depth, as if it extends to the horizon.

This disappears in short intervals, but it may be something like "knowledge of the other shore." While "knowledge of the other shore" doesn't quite fit, "a sensation that extends to the horizon" aligns with my own feelings. The way of expressing it may vary from person to person, but it may be expressing the same thing.

Visible objects exist, but each object feels like it extends far away to "the other shore" or "the horizon." Perhaps it disappears at the end of that horizon.

This is not a visible horizon in my field of vision. It's a sensation that something extends from slightly behind each object, and continues backward to the horizon. I think it probably disappears at the end of that horizon.

If we consider the "horizon" as "emptiness" or "void," then the objects appear to have a real form, but the knowledge that their reality is "emptiness" aligns with that.

The subjective feeling naturally becomes still, and the practitioner experiences primordial wisdom. As the object arises, it is recognized as being empty, just like one's own emptiness. It's a feeling like glimpsing the state of "unity of emptiness and manifestation" described in the book "Rainbow and Crystal."

The state before reaching a state of stillness usually has a slight fuzziness in the back of the head and surrounding areas.

When reaching a state of stillness, that fuzziness clears up and becomes a condensed mass, but a little while ago, that mass was passing through the throat and going down to the chest.

However, recently, that mass has started to gather in a slightly recessed area between the eyebrows.

It seems that this is synchronized with the change in the resonance location of the mantra.

When the mantra's resonance was in the chest or lower body, that mass was going down to the chest, but since the mantra started resonating between the eyebrows, it seems that the mass has started to gather in the area behind the eyebrows.

When consciousness descends to the lower body, a feeling of suffering arises with each thought, but when consciousness is concentrated between the eyebrows, there is no such feeling of suffering.

When consciousness is not yet concentrated between the eyebrows, changes occur in the head when chanting the mantra, but the more consciousness concentrates between the eyebrows, the more it feels like the effect of the mantra is diminishing. In other words, it feels like this preparation is beneficial as an effect of the mantra.

Is a new mantra necessary, or is this not an area where the mantra has an effect? I will observe this further.

My daily life has become a form of meditation, but initially, I would quickly revert to my previous state, often without realizing it. After meditation sessions ended, I would resume meditation to re-enter that state and then continue my daily life in that meditative state, repeating this process.

Recently, I feel that the duration of this meditative state has increased compared to six months ago.

Previously, maintaining this meditative state required a certain level of focused attention. For example, perceiving the world in slow motion required a degree of concentration that involved a conscious "action." However, recently, this "concentration" seems to be less necessary, and it has become more of an unconscious process. Perhaps "concentration" is not the right word; "observation" might be more appropriate.

To elaborate further on this previous state of "concentration," it's important to understand that Vipassana meditation focuses on the subconscious mind rather than the conscious mind. Some may feel that the term "concentration" is misleading when applied to the subconscious, but it was the concentration required to activate that subconscious mind. To avoid any misunderstanding, it's important to clarify that the "concentration" typically referred to involves conscious "actions" related to the senses. We usually consider "concentration" to be related to sensory experiences, such as moving the body or seeing with our eyes. However, the "concentration" I'm referring to is not related to these sensory experiences; it's the concentration required to maintain conscious awareness. While we typically see the world through our sensory organs, the "seeing" or "awareness" I'm referring to involves the activation of the subconscious mind in addition to the sensory perception. "Concentration" is needed to sustain this subconscious "seeing," but it's a type of focus that involves "aligning" or "condensing" consciousness, rather than concentrating muscles or other physical aspects. Some schools of thought might describe this as "not an action" or "not concentration," but rather "observation." Regardless of how it's described, it's the same state. This state can be called "concentration," "not concentration," or "observation," and I believe any of these terms can be used. Some schools call this "Vipassana (observation)," while others call it "Samadhi." The interpretation of the term "Samadhi" varies, which can be confusing. In essence, the state of the subconscious mind perceiving the world is what constitutes the so-called "living in meditation."

Previously, a certain level of "concentration" was required to maintain this state of "living in meditation," but recently, that level of concentration has become less necessary. While "concentration" might be the term, "observation" might be more appropriate, as it better reflects the experience. Both terms have their limitations in fully describing the state.

The disappearance of the "sense of concentration" can be described as "entering an observational state." If "concentration" is closer to an "action," then the "sense of action" has diminished. What happens when this "sense of action" associated with "concentration" disappears? It becomes something closer to a "habit" or "tradition."

As an aside, traditional Japanese customs often express this state as "be grateful for the things around you every day" or "pay attention to the movement of your chopsticks and the taste of your food while eating." This makes me wonder if the people of old Japan actually lived in a meditative state as a matter of course. Modern people have lost this meditative state, making it difficult for them to understand. These Japanese customs may not be mere habits, but rather the natural result of living in a meditative state. However, people have forgotten this meditative state, and only the habits remain. It seems that we are entering an era where these habits may eventually be forgotten. If that's the case, it might be more effective to regain the meditative state than to simply try to revive the habits. There are people who talk about restoring Japanese culture, but I believe that restoring the meditative state is a faster path. Even with these traditional Japanese customs, there is a significant difference between performing them with a meditative awareness and simply performing them as habitual actions. There is a certain, almost insurmountable, barrier. Perhaps, in old Japan, people would simply say "be grateful for the things around you," and that was the advice given to those who had already reached that state. Those who have not yet reached that state may need to engage in practices like yoga or meditation to first achieve that state. While being grateful may be sufficient for some, those who have not yet reached that state may require other things.

Let's set aside the digressions. After writing this far, I realized that the expression "consciousness concentration becomes unnecessary" also seems to have a misleading nuance. It's not that concentration disappears; observation continues unchanged, so even saying that "concentration changes to observation" doesn't seem like a correct expression. So, how about the following expression?

"By concentrating and observing, everyday life becomes perceived as slow motion, which leads to living while meditating. In the past, there was some 'force' involved in concentrating and observing, and that force maintained the concentration and observation. As time passed, that force gradually diminished, and the concentration and observation weakened. Then, I would sit down and meditate again to return to the slow-motion state, repeating this process. Now, that 'force' has gradually become unnecessary, and the slow-motion meditative life continues for a longer time without the need to apply that 'force.'

I feel that this expression is closer to the current situation. However, the 'force' I'm talking about doesn't change much in terms of energy. So, the change is not in the energy itself, but rather in the 'excessive force.' It's a change where the 'excessive force' has been released.

This is sometimes referred to as "Vipassana meditation," but it's not about the "schools" or "methods" of Vipassana meditation that are commonly talked about being superior or anything like that. Whether you do yoga meditation or Vipassana meditation, I think you can reach the same state. I'm simply choosing that term as a way of expression. I'm not talking about the merits or demerits of different schools. You could also say it's "samadhi" in a yoga-like way. There are various ways to express it. It's the same thing. Both are expressions that have been used for a long time, but I'm just using them to express it.

I have often had such intuition since I was young, but recently, I feel that this sensation has become sharper and more distinct.

In the past, my intuition was a vague feeling in my head, chest, or stomach, without a specific direction. Sometimes I ignored this intuition and regretted it, or I often ignored it even when I felt it.

Recently, my intuition has become more directional. When I focus my attention on something, I can now clearly perceive the sensation, more so than before.

For example, a clear example is the shelves of food products in a supermarket.

Even though the same products are lined up, and they are manufactured products, they should be essentially the same. However, I feel that there is something different, and when I compare items that give off a good feeling with those that give off a less good feeling, I often find that the difference is the expiration date. The difference in the expiration date was manifesting as a difference in the feeling.

I didn't notice these differences in expiration dates before.

Of course, if the difference in the feeling is not significant, I wouldn't notice it. However, it seems that some products have differences in the feeling. It may be due to differences in the expiration date, or perhaps because they were made on different days, resulting in differences in the ingredients. Even if the ingredients are the same, the origin may be different.

Before, I vaguely sensed these things, but I didn't understand the differences between individual products.

Before, I would unconsciously receive and process all the sensations around me in a vague way. Now, I don't receive any sensations unless I consciously focus on them, and when I focus my attention, I can receive the sensations.

This is not just a difference, but also an advantage in life. The advantage is that even if there are things with low feelings nearby, I am less affected by them. This is a subtle but significant advantage. Because I am less susceptible to the influence of negative objects or people.

I think that this is a side effect of concentrating my aura around me during meditation, which stabilizes my mind and aura, and allows me to not feel things I don't want to feel.

People who are said to be psychic, or who are prone to spiritual harm, or who are considered to have a cold constitution, often have auras that are flickering and unstable. I, too, used to be someone whose aura was not stable and was spreading. That's why I think I was feeling things I didn't want to feel.

Now, it has become more stable, and I can selectively and clearly feel things.

When the aura is unstable, it may be easier to have energy drained by others, and you may tend to feel energy depletion. Energy vampires may drain energy from people with unstable auras. I think I have experienced less of that. The fact that I can now selectively feel things means that I can also selectively interact with things, and if the interaction decreases, the harm from energy vampires may also decrease. This is a matter of degree, and there may be harm if the other person extends their aura towards you, but I feel that the situation where my aura unintentionally spreads around me and my energy is drained has decreased compared to before.

As my aura becomes more stable, my sensations become clearer, and I feel like I am becoming clairvoyant, able to feel things selectively and clearly.

I have had little sensation in the area above my head, especially in the front part of my head. A long time ago, I didn't have a sense of the entire frontal lobe, nor did I have a sense of about half of my head. However, the sensation gradually emerged from the lower part, but the sensation in the upper part of the frontal lobe was still not present.

Correspondingly, in the past, the resonance of the mantra was felt throughout the entire body, but recently, it has been reacting in the area around my eyebrows, the lower part of the frontal lobe, and its surroundings.

Recently, I have been doing silent meditation to gradually reach a state of stillness, or meditating while chanting mantras in my mind in the way of ancient practices. However, today, I suddenly tried changing the way I chant, and I was surprised to feel a sensation in the upper part of the frontal lobe.

Until recently, I was chanting the last part of the Tibetan mantra, "Tat, Sat," in Japanese as a small "tsu" (ッ). However, today, I tried to pronounce each character clearly and distinctly, changing it to "Tatsu, Satto," and I found that the "tsu" sound had the effect of activating the upper part of the frontal lobe.

I tried changing it because I was trying to pronounce each word clearly. Perhaps I was unconsciously receiving inspiration during meditation.

It is said that the pronunciation of mantras is important, and that even a slight difference can prevent them from working. I think that is true. Things like this can happen.

Initially, I lost the sense of depth perception with Vipassana meditation, but recently, the sense of depth perception has returned while still practicing Vipassana.

The state that began last year, where the visual field is perceived in slow motion, which can be called Vipassana or Samadhi, was quite two-dimensional and flat, like watching a movie screen.

Although it is relatively flat, everything is clearly visible, and the movement is smooth, so daily life feels like a movie scene, and the scenery seen in daily life has become more beautiful.

Daily life has become like a movie, and the scenery appearing in the visual field feels like a two-dimensional screen, just like a movie. In the literal sense, the shape of the visual field, which is not a square screen but a wide oval, has not changed.

However, recently, while maintaining that beautiful visual field, I feel that the sense of depth perception has also returned.

This is a switch between how the eyes are used and how the brain is used.

There are two modes: a visual mode that sees a beautiful, still image like a scene from a movie, and a mode that feels depth perception while in that state. Since it is not completely on or off, the ratio of these modes determines the degree of depth perception.

Until recently, when I switched to the mode that feels depth perception, the still image mode became quite weak, but now, even in the mode that feels depth perception, the still image mode is still somewhat active.

It seems that recently, the change is that the mode that feels depth perception and the mode that feels a still image can coexist.

Until recently, the scenery was simply recognized as a still image in slow motion, which was a perception of a series of points. However, the difference now is that those points can be recognized as lines.

Until recently, I was enjoying the scenery of daily life as a still image, but recently, it feels like I can enjoy it as a video. While I used to enjoy each frame of the scenery in slow motion, recently, I can enjoy it as a video while retaining that feeling. When I want to see the scenery properly, I switch to still image mode, and when I want to enjoy the movement, I recognize it in the mode with movement and depth perception.

When I perceive the scenery of daily life in this way, it feels much more interesting than movies or television. You can enjoy daily life without going far. Even in my ordinary room, the scenery is beautiful, and the movement of everything is radiant, like a divine work.