Things that are known, things that are known about, and the means of knowing.
In yoga and spirituality, these three concepts often appear.
The first two are relatively obvious, but the last one, "knowing (means)," is sometimes described as "ongoing action (-ing)" or "means" in some texts, and it is not very clear.
This is also quoted in spirituality, and while the explanations for yoga and the Vedanta interpretations are subtly different, they can generally be classified into the following two interpretations:
■ Interpretation 1: Explanation based on the ordinary mind. Yoga Sutra interpretation. An interpretation sometimes seen in spirituality.
- The "I" of ordinary conscious awareness is the "knower."
- The "object" or "knowledge" that is "known."
- "Knowing (-ing)" or "means" as "recognition" based on the action of the (ordinary) mind.
The Yoga Sutra describes the state when these three become one as Samadhi.
That is indeed true, but since Samadhi is the state where the Atman (Purusha, the true nature of the mind) appears as the observer of all three, the expression "becoming one" is not easy to understand. Initially, there is no awareness of the Atman, but Samadhi is the state where the Atman's awareness observes these three.
If this is difficult to understand, it may be helpful to think of "knowing (-ing)" or "means" as being replaced by the Atman (Purusha, the true nature of the mind). In this case, Samadhi is the state where the Atman knows both the "knower" and the "known." This can also be called "observation," but it is a state where the Atman observes both the "knower" and the "known," which the Yoga Sutra describes as "becoming one." This is a difficult expression, but if you interpret it this way, you can understand it easily.
At this time, "knowing (-ing)" or "means" refers not only to physical actions but also to the workings of the mind. Therefore, in reality, the Atman observes not only the "knower" and the "known" but also the workings of the ordinary mind as "knowing (-ing)" or "means." In essence, the Atman observes all three, but for the sake of understanding, it is not wrong to think that the Atman observes only two.
■ Interpretation 2: Explanation of the Atman (Purusha, or the true nature of the mind) and everything else. Vedanta interpretation.
- Atman is the "knower."
- Everything in this world other than Atman is the "known."
- The "mind" (ordinary mind, conscious awareness) as the "means" for receiving the object of recognition.
This is clear in itself, but in this case, there is no concept of these three becoming one; they are simply described as three categories.
Therefore, when similar concepts of these three appear, the interpretation can change significantly depending on whether "the knower" refers to the ordinary conscious awareness or the Atman. Therefore, when reading texts on spirituality, yoga, and Vedanta, it is necessary to pay attention to the context.
The first two are relatively obvious, but the last one, "knowing (means)," is sometimes described as "ongoing action (-ing)" or "means" in some texts, and it is not very clear.
This is also quoted in spirituality, and while the explanations for yoga and the Vedanta interpretations are subtly different, they can generally be classified into the following two interpretations:
■ Interpretation 1: Explanation based on the ordinary mind. Yoga Sutra interpretation. An interpretation sometimes seen in spirituality.
- The "I" of ordinary conscious awareness is the "knower."
- The "object" or "knowledge" that is "known."
- "Knowing (-ing)" or "means" as "recognition" based on the action of the (ordinary) mind.
The Yoga Sutra describes the state when these three become one as Samadhi.
That is indeed true, but since Samadhi is the state where the Atman (Purusha, the true nature of the mind) appears as the observer of all three, the expression "becoming one" is not easy to understand. Initially, there is no awareness of the Atman, but Samadhi is the state where the Atman's awareness observes these three.
If this is difficult to understand, it may be helpful to think of "knowing (-ing)" or "means" as being replaced by the Atman (Purusha, the true nature of the mind). In this case, Samadhi is the state where the Atman knows both the "knower" and the "known." This can also be called "observation," but it is a state where the Atman observes both the "knower" and the "known," which the Yoga Sutra describes as "becoming one." This is a difficult expression, but if you interpret it this way, you can understand it easily.
At this time, "knowing (-ing)" or "means" refers not only to physical actions but also to the workings of the mind. Therefore, in reality, the Atman observes not only the "knower" and the "known" but also the workings of the ordinary mind as "knowing (-ing)" or "means." In essence, the Atman observes all three, but for the sake of understanding, it is not wrong to think that the Atman observes only two.
■ Interpretation 2: Explanation of the Atman (Purusha, or the true nature of the mind) and everything else. Vedanta interpretation.
- Atman is the "knower."
- Everything in this world other than Atman is the "known."
- The "mind" (ordinary mind, conscious awareness) as the "means" for receiving the object of recognition.
This is clear in itself, but in this case, there is no concept of these three becoming one; they are simply described as three categories.
Therefore, when similar concepts of these three appear, the interpretation can change significantly depending on whether "the knower" refers to the ordinary conscious awareness or the Atman. Therefore, when reading texts on spirituality, yoga, and Vedanta, it is necessary to pay attention to the context.
The feeling of bodily sensation becomes faint.
I have often experienced such states temporarily during meditation in the past, but recently, I have been experiencing a thinning of bodily sensations in my daily life.
It feels as if my body and the things I can see around me are illusions.
While this is consistent with what spirituality and Vedanta say about "this world being an illusion," I have known this knowledge for over 30 years, and I have always understood it as "probably true," and I think I had been thinking "it must be true" as a matter of course. However, recently, I have become aware of this in a way that I can say, "This is what it is."
When I suddenly check the areas where my bodily sensations are thinning, I can see that my body is definitely there, but it is only the sensations of the skin, the five senses. The sensation of "existence" is becoming thin.
What I mean is, I think I have been creating a mental image of my "self" and that image has been filling my entire body, with varying degrees of intensity. This is the usual sense of "I" and the basis for the awareness that "I" am a separate individual. It feels like something similar to the shape of my body has been superimposed on my physical body.
Recently, this sense of "I" has become very thin, and it feels empty. I have the sensations of the five senses, but I don't have the same sense of "I" that I used to have in my body. When I suddenly think, "Am I not here?" I look and see that my body definitely exists, and I can feel it when I touch something with my skin, so the body I can see is definitely there. However, I feel that the sense of "I" that was superimposed on my physical body is becoming thin.
In my current state, my five senses are quite sharp, and the sensations from my skin are more direct than before. So, in terms of the five senses, I am not becoming thinner, but rather sharper. However, what I am talking about here is that the sense of "I" (which is quite heavy) that was superimposed on my physical body is becoming thinner.
In spirituality, it is often said that the aura disappears before the physical body. If this is a sign of death, I would be a little worried. I would also be worried if it was a sign that my arms and legs would disappear. However, at least, it doesn't seem like I am going to die, and my arms and legs are not disappearing, so I think. What do you think? There are no particular inconveniences in my daily life because my bodily sensations are becoming thinner, and it is actually quite comfortable. However, I am a little worried because I can't see what will happen next.
At the same time that my bodily sensations are becoming thinner, my consciousness is expanding to a radius of several meters, and I feel that the space around me is filled with something. At the same time, I feel that my bodily sensations are becoming thinner, so I think, "Well, that's probably it."
It feels as if my body and the things I can see around me are illusions.
While this is consistent with what spirituality and Vedanta say about "this world being an illusion," I have known this knowledge for over 30 years, and I have always understood it as "probably true," and I think I had been thinking "it must be true" as a matter of course. However, recently, I have become aware of this in a way that I can say, "This is what it is."
When I suddenly check the areas where my bodily sensations are thinning, I can see that my body is definitely there, but it is only the sensations of the skin, the five senses. The sensation of "existence" is becoming thin.
What I mean is, I think I have been creating a mental image of my "self" and that image has been filling my entire body, with varying degrees of intensity. This is the usual sense of "I" and the basis for the awareness that "I" am a separate individual. It feels like something similar to the shape of my body has been superimposed on my physical body.
Recently, this sense of "I" has become very thin, and it feels empty. I have the sensations of the five senses, but I don't have the same sense of "I" that I used to have in my body. When I suddenly think, "Am I not here?" I look and see that my body definitely exists, and I can feel it when I touch something with my skin, so the body I can see is definitely there. However, I feel that the sense of "I" that was superimposed on my physical body is becoming thin.
In my current state, my five senses are quite sharp, and the sensations from my skin are more direct than before. So, in terms of the five senses, I am not becoming thinner, but rather sharper. However, what I am talking about here is that the sense of "I" (which is quite heavy) that was superimposed on my physical body is becoming thinner.
In spirituality, it is often said that the aura disappears before the physical body. If this is a sign of death, I would be a little worried. I would also be worried if it was a sign that my arms and legs would disappear. However, at least, it doesn't seem like I am going to die, and my arms and legs are not disappearing, so I think. What do you think? There are no particular inconveniences in my daily life because my bodily sensations are becoming thinner, and it is actually quite comfortable. However, I am a little worried because I can't see what will happen next.
At the same time that my bodily sensations are becoming thinner, my consciousness is expanding to a radius of several meters, and I feel that the space around me is filled with something. At the same time, I feel that my bodily sensations are becoming thinner, so I think, "Well, that's probably it."
The consciousness of the Atman permeates everything around the self.
Throughout, even now, it is only within a few meters of my surroundings, but I can clearly see that consciousness is filled. Another way to say "filled" is "directly and evenly connected." In a more traditional meditative way, it can also be called "contemplation."
This is not about observing something from a distance, but rather, each filled consciousness is directly and evenly connected to each place, and especially with the body, the filled consciousness spreads to every corner of the body (although there are some differences in density). It is not connected like a remote control, but rather, the filled consciousness overlaps with the body, or rather, the body feels like that consciousness itself, and consciousness, the body, and the surrounding space are all connected.
Even in a space that is just empty air, it is the same; there is consciousness filled in that space as well.
This consciousness is called "Atman (true self)" or "Brahman" in Indian Vedanta, and its existence has been passed down in scriptures since ancient times.
In reality, these kinds of stories passed down in India are basically for study, but recently, I have realized that through yoga and meditation, one can not only study these things but also actually experience them and continuously maintain that state.
In meditation, it can be called "observation," but it is not observation by the conscious mind, but observation by the Atman (true self). Another way to put it is "contemplation."
This Atman (true self) is sometimes called the "higher self," but the term "higher self" is used in various contexts and its definition is not clear, so "Atman (true self)" may be more appropriate.
I feel that consciousness is filled in the space, that my body is included in that space, and that the consciousness is directly moving the body, and at the same time, the physical sensations are becoming less intense.
This may seem like "becoming like a robot" when you just hear the words, but it is the opposite; it is a state where the Atman and the physical body and the ordinary mind (conscious mind) are unified, so it may be said to be more human. However, it is not that I have become particularly friendly or anything like that; it is just a matter of the state of consciousness. If we equate the Atman with the mind, it may be the same as the Christian concept of the Trinity.
In Christianity, the Trinity is said to be the Father (God), the Son (Christ), and the Holy Spirit, but (if I say this to a Christian, I might get angry), if each of these represents the unification of the Atman (as consciousness) with the human body and the ordinary mind, then it can be said to be the same thing.
Metaphorically speaking, the consciousness of God is not wrong, and the Atman's consciousness is filled around me, permeating the body and mind, and the surrounding space, and becoming one.
This is not about observing something from a distance, but rather, each filled consciousness is directly and evenly connected to each place, and especially with the body, the filled consciousness spreads to every corner of the body (although there are some differences in density). It is not connected like a remote control, but rather, the filled consciousness overlaps with the body, or rather, the body feels like that consciousness itself, and consciousness, the body, and the surrounding space are all connected.
Even in a space that is just empty air, it is the same; there is consciousness filled in that space as well.
This consciousness is called "Atman (true self)" or "Brahman" in Indian Vedanta, and its existence has been passed down in scriptures since ancient times.
In reality, these kinds of stories passed down in India are basically for study, but recently, I have realized that through yoga and meditation, one can not only study these things but also actually experience them and continuously maintain that state.
In meditation, it can be called "observation," but it is not observation by the conscious mind, but observation by the Atman (true self). Another way to put it is "contemplation."
This Atman (true self) is sometimes called the "higher self," but the term "higher self" is used in various contexts and its definition is not clear, so "Atman (true self)" may be more appropriate.
I feel that consciousness is filled in the space, that my body is included in that space, and that the consciousness is directly moving the body, and at the same time, the physical sensations are becoming less intense.
This may seem like "becoming like a robot" when you just hear the words, but it is the opposite; it is a state where the Atman and the physical body and the ordinary mind (conscious mind) are unified, so it may be said to be more human. However, it is not that I have become particularly friendly or anything like that; it is just a matter of the state of consciousness. If we equate the Atman with the mind, it may be the same as the Christian concept of the Trinity.
In Christianity, the Trinity is said to be the Father (God), the Son (Christ), and the Holy Spirit, but (if I say this to a Christian, I might get angry), if each of these represents the unification of the Atman (as consciousness) with the human body and the ordinary mind, then it can be said to be the same thing.
Metaphorically speaking, the consciousness of God is not wrong, and the Atman's consciousness is filled around me, permeating the body and mind, and the surrounding space, and becoming one.
From meditation to the self-existence of Purusha, and towards unification with "Emptiness."
In Buddhism, Zen meditation consists of eight levels: four in the realm of form (four types of things with form) and four in the formless realm (four aspects of the mind without form). After passing through the state of extinction, one progresses to the state of vajra meditation, where the individual self (Atman, or Purusha) exists independently. Finally, there is a unification with Brahman, the ultimate reality or "totality."
There are few books that clearly describe these stages. Among the books I have, two provide a good understanding of this: one is a book by Honzan Hiraoka, and the other is "Shinji to Zazen" by Masako Yui.
[https://books.rakuten.co.jp/rk/4bcf5fea87d43d1eb9ab4564c5e5f2fd/]
In Theravada Buddhism, the descriptions of the levels of meditation are relatively clear up to the transition from the realm of form to the formless realm. However, the descriptions of the later stages of the formless realm are vague and unclear.
Yoga aims for the independent existence of Purusha (Atman), and the Yoga Sutras provide detailed information on this.
The Vedanta philosophy of India provides very detailed descriptions of Atman, the individual self (similar to Purusha in Sankhya philosophy), and Brahman, the ultimate reality or "totality."
The views of Tibetan Buddhism, especially Dzogchen, can be helpful in understanding meditation.
None of these covers everything, but Honzan Hiraoka's writings are very helpful as readily available resources.
The final stage is often described as "emptiness," but you can think of it as synonymous with "enlightenment." Until then, one is at the stage of glimpsing or understanding "emptiness," but ultimately, one becomes one with that "emptiness." This final stage can also be called "awakening," but if we simply use the word "awakening," it can occur at an earlier stage. However, the realization of oneself as Brahman, the ultimate reality, does not occur until the final stage.
Honzan Hiraoka's works often cover topics such as yoga and psychic abilities, which may lead some to misunderstand them as frivolous. However, he has extensive knowledge of yoga, having interacted with Indian swamis, and his writings convey a sense of deep understanding.
Even the hierarchical stages that I have recently come to understand are supported by Honzan Hiraoka's writings, and his writings were written over 30 years ago. He is truly a master.
According to Honzan Hiraoka's recent writings, Buddhism originated from Buddha's feeling of being starved of love. He suggests that while it would have been sufficient to simply divide Buddhism into the realm of form and the formless realm, the realm of desire, which is included in the realm of form, was deliberately separated. The ultimate goal of Buddhism, which is to speak of love, is ultimately because Buddha was starved of love, which stemmed from a feeling of lack due to the early death of his mother and the inability to receive unconditional love. I thought, "That might be true."
According to him, Buddha clearly attained enlightenment by going through the later stages of Buddhist meditation, and that is precisely the hierarchical stages mentioned above.
There are various misunderstandings about Buddha, and some say that he was in conflict with the Vedic tradition. However, from the perspective of the state of being, I think they reached the same state. If that is the case, it doesn't make much sense to compare which is superior, Buddhism or the Vedic tradition, as they are both the same state.
This can be understood by reading the works of Honzan Hiraoka and Masako Yui.
There are few books that clearly describe these stages. Among the books I have, two provide a good understanding of this: one is a book by Honzan Hiraoka, and the other is "Shinji to Zazen" by Masako Yui.
[https://books.rakuten.co.jp/rk/4bcf5fea87d43d1eb9ab4564c5e5f2fd/]
In Theravada Buddhism, the descriptions of the levels of meditation are relatively clear up to the transition from the realm of form to the formless realm. However, the descriptions of the later stages of the formless realm are vague and unclear.
Yoga aims for the independent existence of Purusha (Atman), and the Yoga Sutras provide detailed information on this.
The Vedanta philosophy of India provides very detailed descriptions of Atman, the individual self (similar to Purusha in Sankhya philosophy), and Brahman, the ultimate reality or "totality."
The views of Tibetan Buddhism, especially Dzogchen, can be helpful in understanding meditation.
None of these covers everything, but Honzan Hiraoka's writings are very helpful as readily available resources.
The final stage is often described as "emptiness," but you can think of it as synonymous with "enlightenment." Until then, one is at the stage of glimpsing or understanding "emptiness," but ultimately, one becomes one with that "emptiness." This final stage can also be called "awakening," but if we simply use the word "awakening," it can occur at an earlier stage. However, the realization of oneself as Brahman, the ultimate reality, does not occur until the final stage.
Honzan Hiraoka's works often cover topics such as yoga and psychic abilities, which may lead some to misunderstand them as frivolous. However, he has extensive knowledge of yoga, having interacted with Indian swamis, and his writings convey a sense of deep understanding.
Even the hierarchical stages that I have recently come to understand are supported by Honzan Hiraoka's writings, and his writings were written over 30 years ago. He is truly a master.
According to Honzan Hiraoka's recent writings, Buddhism originated from Buddha's feeling of being starved of love. He suggests that while it would have been sufficient to simply divide Buddhism into the realm of form and the formless realm, the realm of desire, which is included in the realm of form, was deliberately separated. The ultimate goal of Buddhism, which is to speak of love, is ultimately because Buddha was starved of love, which stemmed from a feeling of lack due to the early death of his mother and the inability to receive unconditional love. I thought, "That might be true."
According to him, Buddha clearly attained enlightenment by going through the later stages of Buddhist meditation, and that is precisely the hierarchical stages mentioned above.
There are various misunderstandings about Buddha, and some say that he was in conflict with the Vedic tradition. However, from the perspective of the state of being, I think they reached the same state. If that is the case, it doesn't make much sense to compare which is superior, Buddhism or the Vedic tradition, as they are both the same state.
This can be understood by reading the works of Honzan Hiraoka and Masako Yui.
From the individual self (Atman) to Brahman.
According to what I was taught by my inner guide, this seems to be a story that has no end in terms of both depth and breadth. Previously, there were relatively large changes in stages, but from now on, it seems that it is a matter of degree, and there is no end.
That is because, first, the stage of the self-existence of Atman or Purusha, where the true nature of the mind or the mind of the Buddha appears, is a stage of significant change. Before that, Atman (or, in the Sankhya system, Purusha) has not yet appeared, and the stage of the self-existence of Atman is a new step into a new world. This can also be said to be the unconscious world in contrast to the conscious mind. When Atman appears, a part of the world that was originally unconscious changes into the world of consciousness.
At first, it starts from near one's own body, and gradually expands. At that time, it expands mainly from two or three perspectives.
- Distance from oneself (both physical and temporal distance)
- Depth
Initially, the sensation is faint, but gradually, the sensation deepens.
Also, initially, it is only in the area of the heart of one's body, but gradually it spreads to the whole body, and then to a few meters around the body. This includes both distance and time.
Both of these occur, so it is a process of deepening and expanding. While the final destination is said to be the "totality" of Brahman in Vedanta, there is no end to the expansion of distance and the deepening of the sensation. Therefore, there is a "completion" in the self-existence of Atman, but there is only a difference in degree with Brahman, and there is no "end." The self-existence of Atman may be a starting point.
Some people may feel that the distance from themselves is Atman, if they can identify their surroundings with themselves. Or, some people may feel that a region or even an entire country is their Atman. If it is not a complete "totality," people may continue to call it Atman, or some may call it Brahman when it expands a little. However, the story of Atman and Brahman is a relative story. Even when one knows Brahman, they know Brahman by knowing Atman, which has the same quality. Therefore, it seems that truly becoming Brahman is not possible for a living human being. That is what I was taught. A complete, universal Brahman is impossible for a living human being, and Brahman as a concept is the entire universe. When a practitioner says "from Atman to Brahman," it is a relative story, and it means being in a state of "knowing Brahman."
In Vedanta, Atman as an individual is actually the same as Brahman, and that is true. However, it seems that the extent to which one can recognize this varies from person to person. This is consistent with the descriptions in the scriptures. According to the scriptures and the writings of past sages, it is written that knowing the quality of Atman leads to knowing Brahman. This means that one knows that what is essentially the same as Brahman exists within oneself, and that the quality of Atman and Brahman are the same. This is the final destination of the Upanishads (Vedanta). This is written metaphorically as "knowing Brahman" or "becoming Brahman," but in reality, it seems to be about knowing Brahman a little as Atman expands.
If one simply reads Vedanta, it can be interpreted as a zero-one story, meaning that after Atman comes knowing Brahman. However, there is a matter of degree. Initially, one knows Atman, and that Atman is of the same quality as Brahman. Subsequently, the scope gradually expands, and one approaches the totality of Brahman. One can say that they are approaching, or that they are becoming identical, or that they are dissolving into Brahman. A metaphor is often used, such as "the water of a river merging into the ocean."
Therefore, it seems that from here on, there is only growth in depth and distance (although it is more important than just that). Here, I am talking about "distance," but as said in quantum mechanics, time and space are opposites, so being able to see a distant distance also means being able to see a distant time.
Literally becoming Brahman as the "totality" is something that cannot be achieved in this short life, so it seems that we will experience a certain degree of expansion as a metaphorical Brahman. Therefore, I am now at a stage of enjoying this deepening.
In my case, I can only vaguely sense something around my body, so I still have a long way to go.
It's like reaching the sea from a river and being overwhelmed by its vastness.
This place might be a place that can be metaphorically called "home." I have reached one of the endpoints of a long journey, and I have started a new beginning.
That is because, first, the stage of the self-existence of Atman or Purusha, where the true nature of the mind or the mind of the Buddha appears, is a stage of significant change. Before that, Atman (or, in the Sankhya system, Purusha) has not yet appeared, and the stage of the self-existence of Atman is a new step into a new world. This can also be said to be the unconscious world in contrast to the conscious mind. When Atman appears, a part of the world that was originally unconscious changes into the world of consciousness.
At first, it starts from near one's own body, and gradually expands. At that time, it expands mainly from two or three perspectives.
- Distance from oneself (both physical and temporal distance)
- Depth
Initially, the sensation is faint, but gradually, the sensation deepens.
Also, initially, it is only in the area of the heart of one's body, but gradually it spreads to the whole body, and then to a few meters around the body. This includes both distance and time.
Both of these occur, so it is a process of deepening and expanding. While the final destination is said to be the "totality" of Brahman in Vedanta, there is no end to the expansion of distance and the deepening of the sensation. Therefore, there is a "completion" in the self-existence of Atman, but there is only a difference in degree with Brahman, and there is no "end." The self-existence of Atman may be a starting point.
Some people may feel that the distance from themselves is Atman, if they can identify their surroundings with themselves. Or, some people may feel that a region or even an entire country is their Atman. If it is not a complete "totality," people may continue to call it Atman, or some may call it Brahman when it expands a little. However, the story of Atman and Brahman is a relative story. Even when one knows Brahman, they know Brahman by knowing Atman, which has the same quality. Therefore, it seems that truly becoming Brahman is not possible for a living human being. That is what I was taught. A complete, universal Brahman is impossible for a living human being, and Brahman as a concept is the entire universe. When a practitioner says "from Atman to Brahman," it is a relative story, and it means being in a state of "knowing Brahman."
In Vedanta, Atman as an individual is actually the same as Brahman, and that is true. However, it seems that the extent to which one can recognize this varies from person to person. This is consistent with the descriptions in the scriptures. According to the scriptures and the writings of past sages, it is written that knowing the quality of Atman leads to knowing Brahman. This means that one knows that what is essentially the same as Brahman exists within oneself, and that the quality of Atman and Brahman are the same. This is the final destination of the Upanishads (Vedanta). This is written metaphorically as "knowing Brahman" or "becoming Brahman," but in reality, it seems to be about knowing Brahman a little as Atman expands.
If one simply reads Vedanta, it can be interpreted as a zero-one story, meaning that after Atman comes knowing Brahman. However, there is a matter of degree. Initially, one knows Atman, and that Atman is of the same quality as Brahman. Subsequently, the scope gradually expands, and one approaches the totality of Brahman. One can say that they are approaching, or that they are becoming identical, or that they are dissolving into Brahman. A metaphor is often used, such as "the water of a river merging into the ocean."
Therefore, it seems that from here on, there is only growth in depth and distance (although it is more important than just that). Here, I am talking about "distance," but as said in quantum mechanics, time and space are opposites, so being able to see a distant distance also means being able to see a distant time.
Literally becoming Brahman as the "totality" is something that cannot be achieved in this short life, so it seems that we will experience a certain degree of expansion as a metaphorical Brahman. Therefore, I am now at a stage of enjoying this deepening.
In my case, I can only vaguely sense something around my body, so I still have a long way to go.
It's like reaching the sea from a river and being overwhelmed by its vastness.
This place might be a place that can be metaphorically called "home." I have reached one of the endpoints of a long journey, and I have started a new beginning.
The "feeling" that spirituality talks about.
In New Age and spiritual circles, "feeling" is emphasized, and while it's often understood as the five senses, it actually refers to the awakening process of the true nature of the mind, which is called "rikupa."
Perhaps, metaphorically, "feeling" is a way to make it easier to understand.
However, there is a risk of misunderstanding.
If people simply hear this, they might think that feeling sensations or seeing things with their eyes, i.e., experiencing the five senses, is enough. But that's not the case.
However, those who explain these concepts often don't fully understand them. It seems that the basic understanding is that if you experience the five senses and live a relaxed life, that's spirituality. But the difference is significant depending on whether it's about the ordinary five senses or the true nature of the mind.
If you understand this as a matter of the five senses, you might end up relying on a quiet environment that accepts everything. This is understandable for beginners, but true spirituality is something that exists within the mind. If a quiet mind means relying on the external environment, then it's a dependence on the environment. If you are aware that you are a beginner, that's fine, but if you use spirituality as a tool to create a quiet environment, it can become a justification for attacking others, or it can lead to a volatile spirituality that explodes because you can't handle the intensity of the sensations. As a result, you might end up seeking a comfortable environment and retreating to the mountains, or you might end up seeking people who treat you kindly, and ultimately become dependent on others and try to control them, ending up as a strange spiritual guru.
When using the true nature of the mind to awaken (rikupa), you still experience the five senses, but the true nature of the mind, which observes the five senses, is at work. This act of observation is sometimes called awakening, rikupa, or enlightenment. It's a very subtle concept, and metaphorically, it can be simply described as "feeling." However, saying "feeling" can lead to misunderstandings.
When a spiritual teacher says, "Just feel it," you might think, "Ah, that's easy!" and fall into the illusion that you are already doing it. This simple expression is easy to understand, but it also carries the risk of leading you to a state of confusion.
On the other hand, if you explain it strictly, there's a high chance that no one will be interested and they will simply ignore it. It's a difficult situation.
Perhaps spiritual teachers who simplify things and risk causing misunderstandings are a necessary evil. I personally have no dealings with such people.
Perhaps, metaphorically, "feeling" is a way to make it easier to understand.
However, there is a risk of misunderstanding.
If people simply hear this, they might think that feeling sensations or seeing things with their eyes, i.e., experiencing the five senses, is enough. But that's not the case.
However, those who explain these concepts often don't fully understand them. It seems that the basic understanding is that if you experience the five senses and live a relaxed life, that's spirituality. But the difference is significant depending on whether it's about the ordinary five senses or the true nature of the mind.
If you understand this as a matter of the five senses, you might end up relying on a quiet environment that accepts everything. This is understandable for beginners, but true spirituality is something that exists within the mind. If a quiet mind means relying on the external environment, then it's a dependence on the environment. If you are aware that you are a beginner, that's fine, but if you use spirituality as a tool to create a quiet environment, it can become a justification for attacking others, or it can lead to a volatile spirituality that explodes because you can't handle the intensity of the sensations. As a result, you might end up seeking a comfortable environment and retreating to the mountains, or you might end up seeking people who treat you kindly, and ultimately become dependent on others and try to control them, ending up as a strange spiritual guru.
When using the true nature of the mind to awaken (rikupa), you still experience the five senses, but the true nature of the mind, which observes the five senses, is at work. This act of observation is sometimes called awakening, rikupa, or enlightenment. It's a very subtle concept, and metaphorically, it can be simply described as "feeling." However, saying "feeling" can lead to misunderstandings.
When a spiritual teacher says, "Just feel it," you might think, "Ah, that's easy!" and fall into the illusion that you are already doing it. This simple expression is easy to understand, but it also carries the risk of leading you to a state of confusion.
On the other hand, if you explain it strictly, there's a high chance that no one will be interested and they will simply ignore it. It's a difficult situation.
Perhaps spiritual teachers who simplify things and risk causing misunderstandings are a necessary evil. I personally have no dealings with such people.
The bud that encloses the core of "individuality" that still remains within the heart is beginning to open.
Perhaps I am at a stage of self-existence of the Atman, but I still exist as an "individual." Although I am aware that the quality of my inner Atman is identical to Brahman, and I can identify with myself within a radius of a few meters, I am not yet unified with what is called "everything."
The state of not being unified is, in a sense, that the "individual" still remains. This "individual" is generally a sensory experience, and I recognize that there is still an "individual" remaining in my chest, which is perceived as a slight, gentle "tension."
This tension is a very slight tension. While the area around my body is dissolving into the "infinity," "emptiness," or "space" that can also be called the Atman, the area up to my chest has not yet completely merged with that infinity, and it is felt as something similar to "tension."
This is different from trauma, and even at this stage, there is still trauma. However, the trauma is resolving very quickly, taking only 10 or 30 seconds to almost resolve, unlike before, when it would take minutes or even days or months. The method of resolving trauma has also changed; I can immediately recognize when trauma arises, and in addition, I am crystallizing and extracting the trauma. Recently, I crystallized a hazy trauma that was sleeping in my stomach into a crystal or diamond shape and extracted it. However, the "tension" in my chest that I feel here is a different kind of thing than trauma. According to my inner guide, the diamond-shaped crystal that I removed a while ago was the last major trauma, so this is something different from trauma.
If we use a metaphor, it would be like a "me that is not empty." The "me" that remains is perceived as "tension" in terms of sensation, and more specifically, the chest itself is not so much a tension as a "core," and because of that core, a slight tension is created around it, for example, in the shoulders.
It is said that relaxation is important in yoga, but this tension in the shoulders is not simply a physical tension, but a weak tension caused by the existence of "me," so I don't know if there will be a day when I can completely relax, but somehow, I think that complete relaxation may be possible when this feeling of "me" in my chest is completely emptied and unified with Brahman... What do you think?
In terms of stages, I am in a state of self-existence of the Atman, and I am not yet unified with Brahman.
In terms of the Ten Ox Herding Pictures, it is from "The Fifth Picture: Herding the Ox" to "The Sixth Picture: Riding the Ox Home."
■The Fifth Picture: Herding the Ox
Sometimes, truth is obtained through realization,
But sometimes, one forgets oneself due to delusion.
It is not caused by the object, but arises from the mind itself.
Therefore, pull the nasal cord strongly and do not hesitate. ("Ten Ox Herding Meditation" by Koichi Ohyama)
Here, "truth" refers to the awakened state (rikupa) of the heart's true nature (semu). It is about obtaining the self-awareness (Atman, or Purusha) of the awakened state (rikupa) through realization. The state of forgetting oneself due to delusion means that there are times when one falls from the state of rikupa. Therefore, at this stage, it is sometimes necessary to simply reconfirm the realization.
■The Sixth Picture: Riding the Ox Home
The ox and the child no longer collide, and finally become one and return home. (From the same book)
According to the same book, the stage of herding the ox is the self-existence of Purusha, and the stage of riding the ox home is a (temporary) unification with Brahman. The same book says that the "dissociation of Purusha (Atman)" occurs at the stage of riding the ox home and that one becomes unified with Brahman, but I am not aware of that, so perhaps that is still in the future. It can also be interpreted that it is simply a unification with Brahman, even if it is said in theory, but I wonder if that is the case. Does one actually experience the dissociation of Purusha? I don't know yet.
Probably, at the stage of herding the ox, the Purusha (Atman) mainly exists in the chest and is not yet unified with Brahman. In my case, the Atman is strongly felt in my chest, and I can recognize myself within a radius of a few meters, but there is still a feeling of a "core" in my chest, and that feeling is not a strong "collision" as described in the Ten Ox Herding Pictures, but that core still exists as a slight, weak tension, so it can be said that it is not a "collision" in the sense that I do not say it is, but as an expression, it can be said that it is consistent with the way of saying it in the Ten Ox Herding Pictures.
It seems I am progressing from the fifth diagram, "grazing cattle," to the sixth diagram, "riding the cow home."
When I meditate sitting down for a while, say 1 or 2 hours, the tension itself dissolves and my shoulders become relaxed. However, this itself is not directly equivalent to union with Brahman.
Furthermore, after meditating frequently for several days, not only does the tension dissolve, but a sensation arises in the chest, as if the "bud" of a flower is gradually opening.
It is not a sensation like the "petals" opening one by one, as often described in relation to chakras. Instead, it is a sensation of tightly and small petals gradually expanding, simultaneously with a sensation of multiple layers of skin being peeled off. It can be described as a bud expanding, or as tension dissolving, or as the chest "expanding." It can also be described as multiple layers of skin being peeled off repeatedly. There are many ways to express this subtle sensation, but simply put, it can be described as "expanding," or as multiple layers of skin being peeled off, leaving it "exposed."
Whether this is what is commonly referred to as "the opening of a chakra" is unclear, but it could be. In fact, I have been experiencing the dominance of auras such as Manipura and Anahata for quite some time, but this clear sensation of something opening has not been present at those times. Similarly, when I recently felt the power of creation, destruction, and maintenance in my chest, it was a different sensation from this "opening."
Initially, it was recognized as "tension" in my chest, but it may be more accurately described as the beginning of Anahata opening. However, I am still observing.
The state of not being unified is, in a sense, that the "individual" still remains. This "individual" is generally a sensory experience, and I recognize that there is still an "individual" remaining in my chest, which is perceived as a slight, gentle "tension."
This tension is a very slight tension. While the area around my body is dissolving into the "infinity," "emptiness," or "space" that can also be called the Atman, the area up to my chest has not yet completely merged with that infinity, and it is felt as something similar to "tension."
This is different from trauma, and even at this stage, there is still trauma. However, the trauma is resolving very quickly, taking only 10 or 30 seconds to almost resolve, unlike before, when it would take minutes or even days or months. The method of resolving trauma has also changed; I can immediately recognize when trauma arises, and in addition, I am crystallizing and extracting the trauma. Recently, I crystallized a hazy trauma that was sleeping in my stomach into a crystal or diamond shape and extracted it. However, the "tension" in my chest that I feel here is a different kind of thing than trauma. According to my inner guide, the diamond-shaped crystal that I removed a while ago was the last major trauma, so this is something different from trauma.
If we use a metaphor, it would be like a "me that is not empty." The "me" that remains is perceived as "tension" in terms of sensation, and more specifically, the chest itself is not so much a tension as a "core," and because of that core, a slight tension is created around it, for example, in the shoulders.
It is said that relaxation is important in yoga, but this tension in the shoulders is not simply a physical tension, but a weak tension caused by the existence of "me," so I don't know if there will be a day when I can completely relax, but somehow, I think that complete relaxation may be possible when this feeling of "me" in my chest is completely emptied and unified with Brahman... What do you think?
In terms of stages, I am in a state of self-existence of the Atman, and I am not yet unified with Brahman.
In terms of the Ten Ox Herding Pictures, it is from "The Fifth Picture: Herding the Ox" to "The Sixth Picture: Riding the Ox Home."
■The Fifth Picture: Herding the Ox
Sometimes, truth is obtained through realization,
But sometimes, one forgets oneself due to delusion.
It is not caused by the object, but arises from the mind itself.
Therefore, pull the nasal cord strongly and do not hesitate. ("Ten Ox Herding Meditation" by Koichi Ohyama)
Here, "truth" refers to the awakened state (rikupa) of the heart's true nature (semu). It is about obtaining the self-awareness (Atman, or Purusha) of the awakened state (rikupa) through realization. The state of forgetting oneself due to delusion means that there are times when one falls from the state of rikupa. Therefore, at this stage, it is sometimes necessary to simply reconfirm the realization.
■The Sixth Picture: Riding the Ox Home
The ox and the child no longer collide, and finally become one and return home. (From the same book)
According to the same book, the stage of herding the ox is the self-existence of Purusha, and the stage of riding the ox home is a (temporary) unification with Brahman. The same book says that the "dissociation of Purusha (Atman)" occurs at the stage of riding the ox home and that one becomes unified with Brahman, but I am not aware of that, so perhaps that is still in the future. It can also be interpreted that it is simply a unification with Brahman, even if it is said in theory, but I wonder if that is the case. Does one actually experience the dissociation of Purusha? I don't know yet.
Probably, at the stage of herding the ox, the Purusha (Atman) mainly exists in the chest and is not yet unified with Brahman. In my case, the Atman is strongly felt in my chest, and I can recognize myself within a radius of a few meters, but there is still a feeling of a "core" in my chest, and that feeling is not a strong "collision" as described in the Ten Ox Herding Pictures, but that core still exists as a slight, weak tension, so it can be said that it is not a "collision" in the sense that I do not say it is, but as an expression, it can be said that it is consistent with the way of saying it in the Ten Ox Herding Pictures.
It seems I am progressing from the fifth diagram, "grazing cattle," to the sixth diagram, "riding the cow home."
When I meditate sitting down for a while, say 1 or 2 hours, the tension itself dissolves and my shoulders become relaxed. However, this itself is not directly equivalent to union with Brahman.
Furthermore, after meditating frequently for several days, not only does the tension dissolve, but a sensation arises in the chest, as if the "bud" of a flower is gradually opening.
It is not a sensation like the "petals" opening one by one, as often described in relation to chakras. Instead, it is a sensation of tightly and small petals gradually expanding, simultaneously with a sensation of multiple layers of skin being peeled off. It can be described as a bud expanding, or as tension dissolving, or as the chest "expanding." It can also be described as multiple layers of skin being peeled off repeatedly. There are many ways to express this subtle sensation, but simply put, it can be described as "expanding," or as multiple layers of skin being peeled off, leaving it "exposed."
Whether this is what is commonly referred to as "the opening of a chakra" is unclear, but it could be. In fact, I have been experiencing the dominance of auras such as Manipura and Anahata for quite some time, but this clear sensation of something opening has not been present at those times. Similarly, when I recently felt the power of creation, destruction, and maintenance in my chest, it was a different sensation from this "opening."
Initially, it was recognized as "tension" in my chest, but it may be more accurately described as the beginning of Anahata opening. However, I am still observing.
Adjust the aura while in a Samadhi state.
In Samadhi, distracting thoughts tend to disappear quickly, but I still believe it's important to adjust the state of the aura, just as before.
Regarding distracting thoughts, there are three stages: weak thoughts (Cherdor), intermediate thoughts (Shalador), and final thoughts (Landor). My current state is Shalador, and I don't know what happens when I reach Landor, but at least in my current state, aura adjustment is necessary.
The state of the aura is unstable. What I do is, as before, sit in a cross-legged position, meditate, and focus on my forehead. By focusing on my forehead, the aura stabilizes.
In this state, I sometimes feel like I'm in a dream.
When the aura is unstable, distracting thoughts used to appear, but now I simply feel the instability of the aura and observe it. "Feel," but it's not with my eyes. It's like a visual perception where a strange space, like smoke or a thick fog, enters my field of vision during meditation. Various consciousness entities suddenly appear in that smoke, asserting something, acting unexpectedly, or disappearing. I am observing that fluctuating space.
This is probably because, when the aura is unstable, I see things that I shouldn't see. What I'm seeing is likely an astral space, but it's not a very high dimension; it seems like a simple astral space where human thoughts or post-mortem consciousness entities live.
Normally, there's no need to see that. If I reach a higher vibration, I won't focus on such places.
In spiritual terms, I can see astral things because my vibration is slightly low.
As the law of vibration in spirituality says, what a person sees is related to their own vibration. Therefore, seeing astral things means that my vibration is low.
At such times, if I meditate and focus on my forehead for a while, energy will flow in, and eventually, the aura will stabilize. When the aura is unstable, energy tends to be concentrated in the lower body, but meditation helps to balance it or raise the energy to the head. Then, the aura stabilizes, and I stop seeing astral things.
When the aura is unstable, a hazy aura cloud is often around my head, so by meditating and focusing on my forehead, I can remove it. "Remove" doesn't mean discarding it somewhere; it simply stabilizes it. Unpurified aura around the head seems to be purified by being drawn into the Vishuddha chakra in the throat.
During meditation, there are generally two stages of energy increase. First, there's an increase in chaotic energy, and then a solid energy column rises. After the second increase, the hazy aura around my head suddenly gets drawn into the Vishuddha chakra in my throat. It's not a gradual process; it's like a switch being turned on. I don't know if other people experience this the same way, but in my case, I often go through these three stages. Some days, if the aura is stable, I only experience the third stage or the second and third stages, but if the aura is unstable, I go through all three stages to stabilize it.
These state changes have existed for a while, but since the consciousness of Atman began to emerge, along with these state changes, the consciousness of Atman has appeared, which constantly observes the state of my aura.
Having the consciousness of Atman doesn't mean that the aura is always perfectly stable. The consciousness of Atman is a deep consciousness, so it seems that maintaining the stability of the aura as a human being still requires the same maintenance as before. It's a matter of course.
On the other hand, with the consciousness of Atman, my "observational ability" has greatly improved, as mentioned above, so I can grasp the state of distracting thoughts or the aura much more detailed than before. As a result, the resolution is also faster.
Regarding distracting thoughts, there are three stages: weak thoughts (Cherdor), intermediate thoughts (Shalador), and final thoughts (Landor). My current state is Shalador, and I don't know what happens when I reach Landor, but at least in my current state, aura adjustment is necessary.
The state of the aura is unstable. What I do is, as before, sit in a cross-legged position, meditate, and focus on my forehead. By focusing on my forehead, the aura stabilizes.
In this state, I sometimes feel like I'm in a dream.
When the aura is unstable, distracting thoughts used to appear, but now I simply feel the instability of the aura and observe it. "Feel," but it's not with my eyes. It's like a visual perception where a strange space, like smoke or a thick fog, enters my field of vision during meditation. Various consciousness entities suddenly appear in that smoke, asserting something, acting unexpectedly, or disappearing. I am observing that fluctuating space.
This is probably because, when the aura is unstable, I see things that I shouldn't see. What I'm seeing is likely an astral space, but it's not a very high dimension; it seems like a simple astral space where human thoughts or post-mortem consciousness entities live.
Normally, there's no need to see that. If I reach a higher vibration, I won't focus on such places.
In spiritual terms, I can see astral things because my vibration is slightly low.
As the law of vibration in spirituality says, what a person sees is related to their own vibration. Therefore, seeing astral things means that my vibration is low.
At such times, if I meditate and focus on my forehead for a while, energy will flow in, and eventually, the aura will stabilize. When the aura is unstable, energy tends to be concentrated in the lower body, but meditation helps to balance it or raise the energy to the head. Then, the aura stabilizes, and I stop seeing astral things.
When the aura is unstable, a hazy aura cloud is often around my head, so by meditating and focusing on my forehead, I can remove it. "Remove" doesn't mean discarding it somewhere; it simply stabilizes it. Unpurified aura around the head seems to be purified by being drawn into the Vishuddha chakra in the throat.
During meditation, there are generally two stages of energy increase. First, there's an increase in chaotic energy, and then a solid energy column rises. After the second increase, the hazy aura around my head suddenly gets drawn into the Vishuddha chakra in my throat. It's not a gradual process; it's like a switch being turned on. I don't know if other people experience this the same way, but in my case, I often go through these three stages. Some days, if the aura is stable, I only experience the third stage or the second and third stages, but if the aura is unstable, I go through all three stages to stabilize it.
These state changes have existed for a while, but since the consciousness of Atman began to emerge, along with these state changes, the consciousness of Atman has appeared, which constantly observes the state of my aura.
Having the consciousness of Atman doesn't mean that the aura is always perfectly stable. The consciousness of Atman is a deep consciousness, so it seems that maintaining the stability of the aura as a human being still requires the same maintenance as before. It's a matter of course.
On the other hand, with the consciousness of Atman, my "observational ability" has greatly improved, as mentioned above, so I can grasp the state of distracting thoughts or the aura much more detailed than before. As a result, the resolution is also faster.
Recent meditation procedures.
Basic: Sit in a cross-legged position and focus on the space between your eyebrows.
1. Allow a diffuse aura to rise from the lower body to the upper body. At this time, do not intentionally make the aura rise; simply sit in a cross-legged position and focus on the space between your eyebrows. When you are concentrating, such an aura may spontaneously rise, so continue concentrating on the space between your eyebrows until it occurs.
2. Allow a slightly more solidified aura to rise from the lower body to the upper body. The procedure is the same. Continue meditating with your focus on the space between your eyebrows, without consciously trying to make the aura rise. The aura will rise to the head. At this stage, it is not necessary for the entire head to be filled with aura; even the lower half of the head is sufficient.
3. Draw the dark, smoky aura, like a murky cloud or fog, that exists in or near the head, into the Vishuddha chakra in the throat. Again, do not consciously try to draw it in; simply continue concentrating on the space between your eyebrows. Eventually, this state will occur while you are concentrating on the space between your eyebrows, and the murkiness in the head will disappear. It will occur spontaneously, be drawn in suddenly, and your awareness will become clear.
4. If there are any areas of the body where the aura is not reaching, focus on filling those areas with aura. At this time, direct your focus to the specific area. It is not necessary to focus on the space between your eyebrows at this time, but you can always maintain that focus, or alternate between focusing on the space between your eyebrows and focusing on the specific area. For example, in my case, there are often areas where the aura does not reach, such as the top of the head or the upper left side of the head, and these areas are recognized as having a "lack of sensation." Therefore, if there is a lack of sensation in the top of the head or the upper left side of the head, it means that the aura is not reaching those areas, so I focus on those areas or the areas around them to allow the aura to reach those areas. Since there is no sensation, it is not possible to focus directly on those areas, but I focus on the areas around them and apply pressure to move the aura to the areas where there is no sensation. Sometimes, there is an immediate response, while other times, changes occur after several meditations. The changes include the sudden and unexpected filling of the aura in that area, and simultaneously, a corresponding deepening of relaxation and a release of tension.
5. Continue this cycle. Initially, there will be relatively large changes, but eventually, the changes will become more subtle. As stability deepens, the basic practice remains the same: meditation focusing on the space between your eyebrows. When you reach a state where you can observe and contemplate your entire body and act in a state of samadhi, you no longer need to sit in meditation, so you can stop sitting meditation. However, even if you say that, you may occasionally fall out of the state of samadhi, so it is necessary to use sitting meditation to correct yourself, and you will continue to use sitting meditation to check your state. However, gradually, sitting meditation will become unnecessary.
When the state is poor, start from step 1, and when the state is good, restart from step 4, so the procedure changes depending on the situation, but the basic practice is simply to meditate on the space between your eyebrows, and the necessary things will naturally occur, so you do not need to have any specific intentions. It is unlikely to fall back to step 1 very often, perhaps once every few months, but it is relatively common to have areas of the aura that do not reach certain parts of the body, especially the top of the head or the upper left side of the head. In such cases, I often meditate to fill the aura in those areas. Even in those cases, I consciously intend for the aura to fill the area and pay attention to the surrounding areas, but the basic practice is to constantly meditate on the space between your eyebrows.
Supplement:
In addition to this meditation procedure, there is a problem that exists before meditation: if you are in a very poor state, you may be possessed by a spirit (on the right shoulder). So, check the right shoulder (or, depending on the person, it may be different) to see if there is a spirit or some other consciousness attached, and pull it out with something like an aura-like hand. This will suddenly release tension and allow you to relax. If you are possessed by something, your state will recover even after meditating, but it will quickly deteriorate again, so it is important to do this. You rarely hear about this kind of thing in meditation practices, but I have experienced that sometimes, when you are possessed and it is hindering your meditation. This is more likely to occur when you live in a city and encounter various spirits. People who live in the countryside may not have to worry as much. If meditation is not working, this may be the cause, so check your right shoulder, pull out anything you find, and if there is no reaction, it is nothing. If you suddenly feel a release of tension, it means that something was attached. Sometimes, the consciousness of that entity may extend tendrils like roots to the heart in the chest, drawing energy, and if you pull out those roots as well, you may suddenly feel a release of tension and relaxation. In such cases, you can see tension in your eyes in the mirror, and you may often avoid eye contact with others when you are possessed. I think that everyone intuitively knows about this kind of thing, even if they are not spiritual. However, knowing something and knowing how to deal with it are different, so if you are possessed, you need to deal with it properly. This is not discussed in traditional yoga meditation and is more of a spiritual matter, but it is quite important as something to address before meditation. Mindfulness meditation claims to be scientific, so they cannot talk about this kind of thing, but meditation involves interacting with the unseen world, so this kind of issue is inseparable from it. Places that claim to offer scientific meditation often exclude or deny such phenomena, or deny reality by saying "that doesn't happen," but if you truly want to deepen your meditation, you need to face reality and deal with it. In that case, you cannot avoid the issue of spirits. If such things do not happen or you do not notice them even if they are happening, it means that your meditation is not very deep. By the way, Mr. Honshan Hakase said, "You will definitely encounter demons as you progress in your practice. Definitely," and I think that is true. You need to know how to deal with them at that time. In reality, everyone encounters demons, but they are not aware of it, and when they meditate, they begin to notice it and become able to deal with it. To borrow a phrase from a manga, the state of encountering demons without being aware of it is like "not knowing why it's painful while freezing naked in a frozen land" (originally a line from Hunter x Hunter).
1. Allow a diffuse aura to rise from the lower body to the upper body. At this time, do not intentionally make the aura rise; simply sit in a cross-legged position and focus on the space between your eyebrows. When you are concentrating, such an aura may spontaneously rise, so continue concentrating on the space between your eyebrows until it occurs.
2. Allow a slightly more solidified aura to rise from the lower body to the upper body. The procedure is the same. Continue meditating with your focus on the space between your eyebrows, without consciously trying to make the aura rise. The aura will rise to the head. At this stage, it is not necessary for the entire head to be filled with aura; even the lower half of the head is sufficient.
3. Draw the dark, smoky aura, like a murky cloud or fog, that exists in or near the head, into the Vishuddha chakra in the throat. Again, do not consciously try to draw it in; simply continue concentrating on the space between your eyebrows. Eventually, this state will occur while you are concentrating on the space between your eyebrows, and the murkiness in the head will disappear. It will occur spontaneously, be drawn in suddenly, and your awareness will become clear.
4. If there are any areas of the body where the aura is not reaching, focus on filling those areas with aura. At this time, direct your focus to the specific area. It is not necessary to focus on the space between your eyebrows at this time, but you can always maintain that focus, or alternate between focusing on the space between your eyebrows and focusing on the specific area. For example, in my case, there are often areas where the aura does not reach, such as the top of the head or the upper left side of the head, and these areas are recognized as having a "lack of sensation." Therefore, if there is a lack of sensation in the top of the head or the upper left side of the head, it means that the aura is not reaching those areas, so I focus on those areas or the areas around them to allow the aura to reach those areas. Since there is no sensation, it is not possible to focus directly on those areas, but I focus on the areas around them and apply pressure to move the aura to the areas where there is no sensation. Sometimes, there is an immediate response, while other times, changes occur after several meditations. The changes include the sudden and unexpected filling of the aura in that area, and simultaneously, a corresponding deepening of relaxation and a release of tension.
5. Continue this cycle. Initially, there will be relatively large changes, but eventually, the changes will become more subtle. As stability deepens, the basic practice remains the same: meditation focusing on the space between your eyebrows. When you reach a state where you can observe and contemplate your entire body and act in a state of samadhi, you no longer need to sit in meditation, so you can stop sitting meditation. However, even if you say that, you may occasionally fall out of the state of samadhi, so it is necessary to use sitting meditation to correct yourself, and you will continue to use sitting meditation to check your state. However, gradually, sitting meditation will become unnecessary.
When the state is poor, start from step 1, and when the state is good, restart from step 4, so the procedure changes depending on the situation, but the basic practice is simply to meditate on the space between your eyebrows, and the necessary things will naturally occur, so you do not need to have any specific intentions. It is unlikely to fall back to step 1 very often, perhaps once every few months, but it is relatively common to have areas of the aura that do not reach certain parts of the body, especially the top of the head or the upper left side of the head. In such cases, I often meditate to fill the aura in those areas. Even in those cases, I consciously intend for the aura to fill the area and pay attention to the surrounding areas, but the basic practice is to constantly meditate on the space between your eyebrows.
Supplement:
In addition to this meditation procedure, there is a problem that exists before meditation: if you are in a very poor state, you may be possessed by a spirit (on the right shoulder). So, check the right shoulder (or, depending on the person, it may be different) to see if there is a spirit or some other consciousness attached, and pull it out with something like an aura-like hand. This will suddenly release tension and allow you to relax. If you are possessed by something, your state will recover even after meditating, but it will quickly deteriorate again, so it is important to do this. You rarely hear about this kind of thing in meditation practices, but I have experienced that sometimes, when you are possessed and it is hindering your meditation. This is more likely to occur when you live in a city and encounter various spirits. People who live in the countryside may not have to worry as much. If meditation is not working, this may be the cause, so check your right shoulder, pull out anything you find, and if there is no reaction, it is nothing. If you suddenly feel a release of tension, it means that something was attached. Sometimes, the consciousness of that entity may extend tendrils like roots to the heart in the chest, drawing energy, and if you pull out those roots as well, you may suddenly feel a release of tension and relaxation. In such cases, you can see tension in your eyes in the mirror, and you may often avoid eye contact with others when you are possessed. I think that everyone intuitively knows about this kind of thing, even if they are not spiritual. However, knowing something and knowing how to deal with it are different, so if you are possessed, you need to deal with it properly. This is not discussed in traditional yoga meditation and is more of a spiritual matter, but it is quite important as something to address before meditation. Mindfulness meditation claims to be scientific, so they cannot talk about this kind of thing, but meditation involves interacting with the unseen world, so this kind of issue is inseparable from it. Places that claim to offer scientific meditation often exclude or deny such phenomena, or deny reality by saying "that doesn't happen," but if you truly want to deepen your meditation, you need to face reality and deal with it. In that case, you cannot avoid the issue of spirits. If such things do not happen or you do not notice them even if they are happening, it means that your meditation is not very deep. By the way, Mr. Honshan Hakase said, "You will definitely encounter demons as you progress in your practice. Definitely," and I think that is true. You need to know how to deal with them at that time. In reality, everyone encounters demons, but they are not aware of it, and when they meditate, they begin to notice it and become able to deal with it. To borrow a phrase from a manga, the state of encountering demons without being aware of it is like "not knowing why it's painful while freezing naked in a frozen land" (originally a line from Hunter x Hunter).
Things that are full directly move the body.
The Atman (true self) is what overlaps with the body and permeates everything around it. This permeating force directly moves the body. Ideally, everyone should experience this, but when one is aware of it, it's a state of Samadhi. When one is not aware, it's a normal state. When the permeating force is not felt, the body moves in a normal state. Therefore, when someone says "directly moves the body," it's easy to agree, but the key difference is whether one can feel that permeating force.
That permeating force is the Atman, which, according to scriptures, is identical in nature to Brahman (the ultimate reality). The Atman is the individual Brahman, and in reality, the Atman and Brahman are one. However, due to limited consciousness, the Atman is perceived as a separate individual, but it is actually identical to Brahman.
Initially, this directness is clearly recognized as a separate entity.
Therefore, initially, the Atman (true self) feels like a separate entity from the physical body, especially at first, it feels like it's "outside" and gradually approaching. In my case, it was initially located slightly behind my chest, and as I started meditating, it gradually moved closer to my body.
Initially, it began as a consciousness of creation, destruction, and preservation. Initially, there was no feeling that it was directly moving the body, but rather a strong sense of those three types of consciousness, especially the consciousness of creation and destruction.
Later, suddenly, consciousness increased, and I realized that the consciousness (Atman) was directly moving the body.
Recently, it may have progressed further or perhaps regressed, but it's likely becoming more stable. This state is becoming more and more normal, and by "normal," I mean that the sense of specialness is diminishing. The Atman consciousness and the body are becoming more and more closely connected, and it feels less like a direct connection and more like the Atman consciousness is perfectly integrated with the body.
When one says "directly moves the body," there's still a slight sense of separation between the Atman consciousness and the body. It's because of this separation that one feels like it's "moving" something, and that's why there's a sense of "directly moving."
However, recently, the Atman has become even more integrated with the body, so even though the words are still the same, I can only express it as "directly moving" because the distance is decreasing, and it's becoming more like the Atman and the body are integrated and moving together.
This is a very subtle matter. The state itself may seem quite similar to what it was before, and it may seem like a normal thing. However, when the Atman was separated and felt like it was directly moving, it was possible to introduce awareness and dissolve distractions. Now, even though the force is still weak, I feel like it's a precursor to a state where the Atman consciousness permeates the body and mind, regardless of their state.
In Shardul, introducing awareness dissolved distractions. This was because the Atman consciousness and the body were not integrated but separated, and it was necessary to introduce awareness to stabilize that state.
According to books, the next stage, Landul, is described as instantaneous self-dissolution of distractions. I think I can describe it that way, but rather than saying that, it's more accurate to say that because the Atman is not separated from the body and permeates the body and mind, the Atman can directly and instantaneously perceive the body, mind, and senses, including distractions. Therefore, it can be said that distractions dissolve instantaneously, but it's more like they are instantly recognized because the Atman permeates the body, mind, and senses, and therefore the mental process is quickly completed. As a result, distractions are quickly noticed, and one creates fewer distractions.
They don't disappear; rather, they pass by quickly. Because distractions don't repeat, they seem to disappear quickly. It's not that the speed of the distractions themselves increases, but rather that they are simply seen as they are and pass by.
However, in my case, the force of integration between the Atman and the body is still weak, but despite that, the Atman consciousness is becoming even more closely integrated with the body and mind, and it's probably a transitional period, and there may be some temporary instability.
When going through stages like this, temporary instability is a common part of spiritual growth, and it seems like there can be a blurring of consciousness and various symptoms.
Well, perhaps it's just that we're interpreting it this way, and in reality, it might just be a slight setback. There's a possibility of that, so we'll observe the state from now on, including that possibility.
That permeating force is the Atman, which, according to scriptures, is identical in nature to Brahman (the ultimate reality). The Atman is the individual Brahman, and in reality, the Atman and Brahman are one. However, due to limited consciousness, the Atman is perceived as a separate individual, but it is actually identical to Brahman.
Initially, this directness is clearly recognized as a separate entity.
Therefore, initially, the Atman (true self) feels like a separate entity from the physical body, especially at first, it feels like it's "outside" and gradually approaching. In my case, it was initially located slightly behind my chest, and as I started meditating, it gradually moved closer to my body.
Initially, it began as a consciousness of creation, destruction, and preservation. Initially, there was no feeling that it was directly moving the body, but rather a strong sense of those three types of consciousness, especially the consciousness of creation and destruction.
Later, suddenly, consciousness increased, and I realized that the consciousness (Atman) was directly moving the body.
Recently, it may have progressed further or perhaps regressed, but it's likely becoming more stable. This state is becoming more and more normal, and by "normal," I mean that the sense of specialness is diminishing. The Atman consciousness and the body are becoming more and more closely connected, and it feels less like a direct connection and more like the Atman consciousness is perfectly integrated with the body.
When one says "directly moves the body," there's still a slight sense of separation between the Atman consciousness and the body. It's because of this separation that one feels like it's "moving" something, and that's why there's a sense of "directly moving."
However, recently, the Atman has become even more integrated with the body, so even though the words are still the same, I can only express it as "directly moving" because the distance is decreasing, and it's becoming more like the Atman and the body are integrated and moving together.
This is a very subtle matter. The state itself may seem quite similar to what it was before, and it may seem like a normal thing. However, when the Atman was separated and felt like it was directly moving, it was possible to introduce awareness and dissolve distractions. Now, even though the force is still weak, I feel like it's a precursor to a state where the Atman consciousness permeates the body and mind, regardless of their state.
In Shardul, introducing awareness dissolved distractions. This was because the Atman consciousness and the body were not integrated but separated, and it was necessary to introduce awareness to stabilize that state.
According to books, the next stage, Landul, is described as instantaneous self-dissolution of distractions. I think I can describe it that way, but rather than saying that, it's more accurate to say that because the Atman is not separated from the body and permeates the body and mind, the Atman can directly and instantaneously perceive the body, mind, and senses, including distractions. Therefore, it can be said that distractions dissolve instantaneously, but it's more like they are instantly recognized because the Atman permeates the body, mind, and senses, and therefore the mental process is quickly completed. As a result, distractions are quickly noticed, and one creates fewer distractions.
They don't disappear; rather, they pass by quickly. Because distractions don't repeat, they seem to disappear quickly. It's not that the speed of the distractions themselves increases, but rather that they are simply seen as they are and pass by.
However, in my case, the force of integration between the Atman and the body is still weak, but despite that, the Atman consciousness is becoming even more closely integrated with the body and mind, and it's probably a transitional period, and there may be some temporary instability.
When going through stages like this, temporary instability is a common part of spiritual growth, and it seems like there can be a blurring of consciousness and various symptoms.
Well, perhaps it's just that we're interpreting it this way, and in reality, it might just be a slight setback. There's a possibility of that, so we'll observe the state from now on, including that possibility.
For a yogi, Atman is Vipassana (insight).
When you say Vipassana, it gives the impression of Buddhism, but in reality, what is called Vipassana (observation) for yogis is actually the Atman described in Vedanta.
In Buddhism, the doctrine emphasizes "no-self" (no Atman), but even in that state, it is called Vipassana (observation), and in reality, it is the same thing.
What does this mean?
Did the Buddha really deny the Atman when he refuted the Brahmins who sought liberation through the Atman? According to tradition, the Buddha denied the Atman, and this became the basis for Buddhism's doctrine of "no-self."
However, if the Buddha reached a state beyond the non-thought, non-non-thought state, it means he reached a state beyond mind and body. According to Vedanta, there is still a stage beyond the mind, and that is the Atman. Therefore, it is reasonable to think that the Buddha reached the Atman after transcending the physical and mental stages.
According to Vedanta, the human body is divided into five sheaths (Pancha Kosha).
■Pancha Kosha (Five Sheaths)
1. Annamaya Kosha: Physical body
2. Pranamaya Kosha: Body of energy (Prana)
3. Manomaya Kosha: Body of mind and five sense organs
4. Vijñanamaya Kosha: Body of intellect and five cognitive organs
5. Anandamaya Kosha: Causal body, Kozal body.
When the Buddha transcended the non-thought, non-non-thought state, he had at least transcended the Manomaya Kosha and Vijñanamaya Kosha. Therefore, he probably also transcended the Anandamaya Kosha, which is the realm of the Atman.
In light of the fact that the Buddha probably reached the realm of the Atman, it cannot be said that "the Buddha denied the Atman" simply by taking the above conversation out of context. Therefore, what the Buddha said can be narrowed down to two possibilities:
- The Buddha did not study Vedanta, so there was a misunderstanding of the terms.
- The Buddha criticized the Brahmins who were complacent in the caste system created by Hinduism.
The Buddha was born into a royal family, so he probably studied Vedanta to some extent, but I don't know for sure.
I think that, rather than that, he may have denied the Atman as a criticism of the Brahmin caste, and pointedly said, "Perhaps your practice is not sufficient."
I don't think a person like the Buddha would not have understood the Atman. I imagine that he was in a position to distinguish himself from the Brahmins who were complacent in the system and did not practice much. What do you think?
It is up to individuals to misinterpret this as a denial of the Atman, but when you look at the state of enlightenment, the Vipassana (observation) taught by Buddhism and the Atman taught by Vedanta seem very similar, and can almost be said to be the same.
I would like to state for the sake of clarity that people in each school probably view them as different things. Therefore, if you say to someone in a particular school, "Aren't they the same?", they probably won't understand. This is just my interpretation that they seem the same.
In Buddhism, the doctrine emphasizes "no-self" (no Atman), but even in that state, it is called Vipassana (observation), and in reality, it is the same thing.
What does this mean?
Did the Buddha really deny the Atman when he refuted the Brahmins who sought liberation through the Atman? According to tradition, the Buddha denied the Atman, and this became the basis for Buddhism's doctrine of "no-self."
However, if the Buddha reached a state beyond the non-thought, non-non-thought state, it means he reached a state beyond mind and body. According to Vedanta, there is still a stage beyond the mind, and that is the Atman. Therefore, it is reasonable to think that the Buddha reached the Atman after transcending the physical and mental stages.
According to Vedanta, the human body is divided into five sheaths (Pancha Kosha).
■Pancha Kosha (Five Sheaths)
1. Annamaya Kosha: Physical body
2. Pranamaya Kosha: Body of energy (Prana)
3. Manomaya Kosha: Body of mind and five sense organs
4. Vijñanamaya Kosha: Body of intellect and five cognitive organs
5. Anandamaya Kosha: Causal body, Kozal body.
When the Buddha transcended the non-thought, non-non-thought state, he had at least transcended the Manomaya Kosha and Vijñanamaya Kosha. Therefore, he probably also transcended the Anandamaya Kosha, which is the realm of the Atman.
In light of the fact that the Buddha probably reached the realm of the Atman, it cannot be said that "the Buddha denied the Atman" simply by taking the above conversation out of context. Therefore, what the Buddha said can be narrowed down to two possibilities:
- The Buddha did not study Vedanta, so there was a misunderstanding of the terms.
- The Buddha criticized the Brahmins who were complacent in the caste system created by Hinduism.
The Buddha was born into a royal family, so he probably studied Vedanta to some extent, but I don't know for sure.
I think that, rather than that, he may have denied the Atman as a criticism of the Brahmin caste, and pointedly said, "Perhaps your practice is not sufficient."
I don't think a person like the Buddha would not have understood the Atman. I imagine that he was in a position to distinguish himself from the Brahmins who were complacent in the system and did not practice much. What do you think?
It is up to individuals to misinterpret this as a denial of the Atman, but when you look at the state of enlightenment, the Vipassana (observation) taught by Buddhism and the Atman taught by Vedanta seem very similar, and can almost be said to be the same.
I would like to state for the sake of clarity that people in each school probably view them as different things. Therefore, if you say to someone in a particular school, "Aren't they the same?", they probably won't understand. This is just my interpretation that they seem the same.
From physical serenity to mental serenity.
Until now, it has been a state of samadhi where I directly move the physical body.
This is because, in Vedanta, the Atman (true self) is the essence of "I," and the physical body is something that is "being moved."
Here, let me briefly explain the concept of Atman (true self). The physical body and mind are not the Atman (true self), but the physical body or mind, or both, mistakenly identify themselves as "I." Vedanta calls this mistaken self "Jiva." Thus, there are two "I's": the "I" as Jiva and the "I" as Atman (true self).
What I mentioned earlier is the state of samadhi where the "I" as Atman (true self) directly moves the physical body.
It is normal for the mind to command the body to move, and that is not the subject of samadhi. On the other hand, the Atman (true self) directly moving the body is the subject of samadhi.
In the beginning, the relationship between the Atman (true self) and the physical body was somewhat distant, but gradually, it has become closer.
Although the Atman (true self) and the physical body are somewhat separate, they are moving together as one, and what was initially felt as being separate has recently become much more integrated. It exists more closely attached to the physical body than before.
The Atman (true self) not only directly moves but also perceives it as a sensation, so it is aware of the movement of the body at the same time. It is not like the mind giving explicit instructions, but rather it is feeling the sensations of various parts of the body simultaneously.
Until recently, the sensations of the Atman (true self) were mainly in the physical body, and although the mind has become even more free than before, it was still limited in that regard.
However, recently, I have begun to feel, only slightly and during meditation, a sense of the Atman (true self) directly moving the mind.
The mind is much more subtle and delicate than the physical body, so it is difficult to feel, but during meditation, I can faintly feel the Atman (true self) in the depths of the mind moving the mind.
When we say "mind" in Japanese, it often includes things like the soul or Atman (true self), which is a very broad meaning. However, here, I am referring to the "mind" in English, which refers to the thinking mind. I am beginning to feel that the mind, as a mind, is being moved by the Atman (true self) just like the physical body.
I have a sense that the Atman (true self) is moving the physical body in everyday life, but the awareness of the mind is still weak, and I can only perceive it during meditation. However, I think that once you understand that feeling, it is the same thing, so I think it is just a matter of deepening it.
This is because, in Vedanta, the Atman (true self) is the essence of "I," and the physical body is something that is "being moved."
Here, let me briefly explain the concept of Atman (true self). The physical body and mind are not the Atman (true self), but the physical body or mind, or both, mistakenly identify themselves as "I." Vedanta calls this mistaken self "Jiva." Thus, there are two "I's": the "I" as Jiva and the "I" as Atman (true self).
What I mentioned earlier is the state of samadhi where the "I" as Atman (true self) directly moves the physical body.
It is normal for the mind to command the body to move, and that is not the subject of samadhi. On the other hand, the Atman (true self) directly moving the body is the subject of samadhi.
In the beginning, the relationship between the Atman (true self) and the physical body was somewhat distant, but gradually, it has become closer.
Although the Atman (true self) and the physical body are somewhat separate, they are moving together as one, and what was initially felt as being separate has recently become much more integrated. It exists more closely attached to the physical body than before.
The Atman (true self) not only directly moves but also perceives it as a sensation, so it is aware of the movement of the body at the same time. It is not like the mind giving explicit instructions, but rather it is feeling the sensations of various parts of the body simultaneously.
Until recently, the sensations of the Atman (true self) were mainly in the physical body, and although the mind has become even more free than before, it was still limited in that regard.
However, recently, I have begun to feel, only slightly and during meditation, a sense of the Atman (true self) directly moving the mind.
The mind is much more subtle and delicate than the physical body, so it is difficult to feel, but during meditation, I can faintly feel the Atman (true self) in the depths of the mind moving the mind.
When we say "mind" in Japanese, it often includes things like the soul or Atman (true self), which is a very broad meaning. However, here, I am referring to the "mind" in English, which refers to the thinking mind. I am beginning to feel that the mind, as a mind, is being moved by the Atman (true self) just like the physical body.
I have a sense that the Atman (true self) is moving the physical body in everyday life, but the awareness of the mind is still weak, and I can only perceive it during meditation. However, I think that once you understand that feeling, it is the same thing, so I think it is just a matter of deepening it.
The two stages of mental observation.
In introspection, you can clearly grasp the movements of the mind, but this is possible only when meditation progresses and the movements of the mind become calmer.
It seems that there are two types of this clear introspection.
One is the ability to observe the mind itself. At this stage, the movements of the mind are still felt as vague, but even so, it can be called introspection.
The other is the feeling that the movements of the mind are being directly moved and observed by the Atman (true self) behind them. This seems to be the true form of introspection.
These two are actually quite clearly different. The first one, which I initially thought was introspection, now seems more like observation.
With introspection, you can clearly recognize the Atman (true self) behind it.
The Atman (true self) is not only seeing, but also the source from which intentions are sent. It has both aspects.
It is not as concrete as the mind, but the intention is felt there, and it is the source of the intention and also the observer.
The state in which you can clearly recognize the Atman (true self) behind the mind, and you are clearly aware of both the intention that works and the observation, is what I think is introspection.
It seems that there are two types of this clear introspection.
One is the ability to observe the mind itself. At this stage, the movements of the mind are still felt as vague, but even so, it can be called introspection.
The other is the feeling that the movements of the mind are being directly moved and observed by the Atman (true self) behind them. This seems to be the true form of introspection.
These two are actually quite clearly different. The first one, which I initially thought was introspection, now seems more like observation.
With introspection, you can clearly recognize the Atman (true self) behind it.
The Atman (true self) is not only seeing, but also the source from which intentions are sent. It has both aspects.
It is not as concrete as the mind, but the intention is felt there, and it is the source of the intention and also the observer.
The state in which you can clearly recognize the Atman (true self) behind the mind, and you are clearly aware of both the intention that works and the observation, is what I think is introspection.
The stage of calming the mind and the stage of moving the heart.
Meditation is said to have elements of "Shi (Shamaata)" and "Kan (Vipassanā)". Before reaching samadhi, it is essentially the shamaata stage, where the focus is on calming the mind.
Living quietly and keeping the mind peaceful helps prevent unwanted thoughts from arising. However, unwanted thoughts never completely stop, so at this stage, one may still be troubled by them. By choosing a quiet environment, one can maintain a peaceful state of mind. This makes it easier to control the mind. As meditation continues, the frequency of unwanted thoughts decreases, and the moments of stillness become more frequent. Unwanted thoughts appear intermittently, but the time between them gradually increases, and one becomes more comfortable in the "gaps" between them. This is the shamaata stage.
In shamaata, "mental stillness" is crucial. When the mind is active, it is "suffering," but when the mind is still, it is "pleasant."
After this stage, when one reaches samadhi, there is a gradual change, and even when the mind is active, it becomes still.
In my case, I believe it started with samadhi as an observation (vipassanā) of the physical body. Recently, I have gradually been entering the stage of samadhi where I observe the mind.
This is a very subtle concept. It's like the movements of the mind are "writing on sand." Even now, that is essentially the case. However, when meditating, there are moments when the intensity of the "writing" on the sand decreases. At that moment, one can observe the mind from behind. When observing the mind from behind, it is in a state of mental vipassanā. At that moment, the mind's movements are recognized not as "writing on sand," but as "letters floating in the air," a free mind.
This is completely different from calming the mind in the shamaata stage. It involves training oneself to consciously move the mind within the realm of observation.
The act of calming the mind is also necessary as a foundation. When one falls out of the state of mental samadhi, calming the mind helps to return to that state. With this foundation, one consciously moves the mind as much as possible to strengthen the state of mental samadhi.
This can be done in everyday life, such as maintaining mental samadhi while working.
In my case, the strength of mental samadhi is still weak, but I am constantly deepening my awareness.
This is different from the previous stage of "shar dor," where "unwanted thoughts sometimes dissolve automatically simply by reconfirming awareness." Here, one continues to move the mind and tries to observe it from behind.
Perhaps, in "shar dor," some mental trauma still remained. Recently, I felt that the last major trauma was resolved, and since then, instead of unwanted thoughts dissolving as in "shar dor," I have gradually been entering the stage of mental samadhi, where the mind remains active but is observed. I also feel that I am gradually entering the "randor" stage.
The ultimate ability of self-liberation is called "randor." This means "naturally liberating oneself," and it is likened to the way a snake easily, instantly, and quickly sheds its skin. ("Rainbow and Crystal" by Namkai Norbu)
When read literally, this could refer to unwanted thoughts. However, the major confrontation with unwanted thoughts and trauma occurs in "shar dor." At this stage, unwanted thoughts and trauma still remain to some extent, but they rarely cause distress. The power of the trauma is also significantly weakened, and that is when the state of mental samadhi becomes possible.
However, even in "randor," there are stages, and in the initial state of "randor," the mental samadhi is still weak, and it seems like this state will continue for a while.
Living quietly and keeping the mind peaceful helps prevent unwanted thoughts from arising. However, unwanted thoughts never completely stop, so at this stage, one may still be troubled by them. By choosing a quiet environment, one can maintain a peaceful state of mind. This makes it easier to control the mind. As meditation continues, the frequency of unwanted thoughts decreases, and the moments of stillness become more frequent. Unwanted thoughts appear intermittently, but the time between them gradually increases, and one becomes more comfortable in the "gaps" between them. This is the shamaata stage.
In shamaata, "mental stillness" is crucial. When the mind is active, it is "suffering," but when the mind is still, it is "pleasant."
After this stage, when one reaches samadhi, there is a gradual change, and even when the mind is active, it becomes still.
In my case, I believe it started with samadhi as an observation (vipassanā) of the physical body. Recently, I have gradually been entering the stage of samadhi where I observe the mind.
This is a very subtle concept. It's like the movements of the mind are "writing on sand." Even now, that is essentially the case. However, when meditating, there are moments when the intensity of the "writing" on the sand decreases. At that moment, one can observe the mind from behind. When observing the mind from behind, it is in a state of mental vipassanā. At that moment, the mind's movements are recognized not as "writing on sand," but as "letters floating in the air," a free mind.
This is completely different from calming the mind in the shamaata stage. It involves training oneself to consciously move the mind within the realm of observation.
The act of calming the mind is also necessary as a foundation. When one falls out of the state of mental samadhi, calming the mind helps to return to that state. With this foundation, one consciously moves the mind as much as possible to strengthen the state of mental samadhi.
This can be done in everyday life, such as maintaining mental samadhi while working.
In my case, the strength of mental samadhi is still weak, but I am constantly deepening my awareness.
This is different from the previous stage of "shar dor," where "unwanted thoughts sometimes dissolve automatically simply by reconfirming awareness." Here, one continues to move the mind and tries to observe it from behind.
Perhaps, in "shar dor," some mental trauma still remained. Recently, I felt that the last major trauma was resolved, and since then, instead of unwanted thoughts dissolving as in "shar dor," I have gradually been entering the stage of mental samadhi, where the mind remains active but is observed. I also feel that I am gradually entering the "randor" stage.
The ultimate ability of self-liberation is called "randor." This means "naturally liberating oneself," and it is likened to the way a snake easily, instantly, and quickly sheds its skin. ("Rainbow and Crystal" by Namkai Norbu)
When read literally, this could refer to unwanted thoughts. However, the major confrontation with unwanted thoughts and trauma occurs in "shar dor." At this stage, unwanted thoughts and trauma still remain to some extent, but they rarely cause distress. The power of the trauma is also significantly weakened, and that is when the state of mental samadhi becomes possible.
However, even in "randor," there are stages, and in the initial state of "randor," the mental samadhi is still weak, and it seems like this state will continue for a while.
Meditation is from existence to non-existence, and then back to existence.
Meditation initially starts with a specific object of focus. This could be the breath, the space between the eyebrows, or some other object of concentration. Eventually, the concentration becomes so intense that it enters a state similar to a "zone." When concentration reaches this level, it enters a state of "emptiness."
The state of emptiness itself is a certain level of achievement. At that stage, the conscious mind focuses and enters the zone, allowing one to see things as they are and the mind becomes calm.
Whether this zone is called "emptiness" or "focused presence" is just a matter of wording. The state is the same: the mind is calm and free from distractions, so it is "emptiness," but there is still a focus of concentration, so it is not complete emptiness. It is a state that can be described as "mindfulness."
Thus, meditation begins with a specific "presence" and, as presence is perfected, it enters the world of "emptiness."
This world of "emptiness" is not truly empty. In reality, the mind that identifies the object is working, but it is in a state where it is not distracted. This is the area where athletes can achieve high performance.
Therefore, although it is called "mindfulness," the mind is present, but it relies on a state of intense concentration. Whether it is called a "zone" or "mindfulness" is just a matter of wording and is essentially the same thing.
There is a state of "presence" that is the ultimate of presence and emptiness, which is called "dharana" (concentration) or "dhyana" (meditation) in meditation. This is not yet "samadhi."
Until samadhi, one relies on the "emptiness" of the mind, a state of peace and tranquility.
However, when one enters samadhi, the world that was supposed to be "empty" suddenly opens up as "presence." Before this stage, one goes inward to explore the state of "emptiness," but in samadhi, the "external" world gradually becomes equivalent to oneself, and one begins to recognize the world as "presence."
This is a very subtle point. Before samadhi, the "external" world refers to the world of desires, but in samadhi, the "external" world is also "oneself." This is the stage of samadhi where one gradually begins to recognize the world, which is oneself, as "presence."
The idea of "calming the mind" is fundamental, whether before or after samadhi. However, the idea of "making the mind empty" applies to the period before samadhi. After samadhi, the mind is always present and recognizes the world, so it does not become empty.
Initially, there may be a situation where the power of samadhi is weak, and one falls out of samadhi and returns to a state of emptiness before re-entering the state of samadhi. However, when in the state of samadhi, it is a state of "presence."
The state of "presence" before starting meditation and the state of "presence" in samadhi are completely different, but it may be difficult for outsiders to see the difference. Before starting meditation, enjoying the external world is just a game, but enjoying the external world in samadhi seems to become a kind of practice in itself. The range of activities that can be performed in the external world while maintaining the state of samadhi is proportional to the depth of samadhi. Initially, even quiet activities may cause one to fall out of the state of samadhi, but gradually, step by step, it seems that one is able to maintain the state of samadhi even in more complex tasks. This may be what is meant by "integrating samadhi with life" in Tibetan Buddhism.
The state of emptiness itself is a certain level of achievement. At that stage, the conscious mind focuses and enters the zone, allowing one to see things as they are and the mind becomes calm.
Whether this zone is called "emptiness" or "focused presence" is just a matter of wording. The state is the same: the mind is calm and free from distractions, so it is "emptiness," but there is still a focus of concentration, so it is not complete emptiness. It is a state that can be described as "mindfulness."
Thus, meditation begins with a specific "presence" and, as presence is perfected, it enters the world of "emptiness."
This world of "emptiness" is not truly empty. In reality, the mind that identifies the object is working, but it is in a state where it is not distracted. This is the area where athletes can achieve high performance.
Therefore, although it is called "mindfulness," the mind is present, but it relies on a state of intense concentration. Whether it is called a "zone" or "mindfulness" is just a matter of wording and is essentially the same thing.
There is a state of "presence" that is the ultimate of presence and emptiness, which is called "dharana" (concentration) or "dhyana" (meditation) in meditation. This is not yet "samadhi."
Until samadhi, one relies on the "emptiness" of the mind, a state of peace and tranquility.
However, when one enters samadhi, the world that was supposed to be "empty" suddenly opens up as "presence." Before this stage, one goes inward to explore the state of "emptiness," but in samadhi, the "external" world gradually becomes equivalent to oneself, and one begins to recognize the world as "presence."
This is a very subtle point. Before samadhi, the "external" world refers to the world of desires, but in samadhi, the "external" world is also "oneself." This is the stage of samadhi where one gradually begins to recognize the world, which is oneself, as "presence."
The idea of "calming the mind" is fundamental, whether before or after samadhi. However, the idea of "making the mind empty" applies to the period before samadhi. After samadhi, the mind is always present and recognizes the world, so it does not become empty.
Initially, there may be a situation where the power of samadhi is weak, and one falls out of samadhi and returns to a state of emptiness before re-entering the state of samadhi. However, when in the state of samadhi, it is a state of "presence."
The state of "presence" before starting meditation and the state of "presence" in samadhi are completely different, but it may be difficult for outsiders to see the difference. Before starting meditation, enjoying the external world is just a game, but enjoying the external world in samadhi seems to become a kind of practice in itself. The range of activities that can be performed in the external world while maintaining the state of samadhi is proportional to the depth of samadhi. Initially, even quiet activities may cause one to fall out of the state of samadhi, but gradually, step by step, it seems that one is able to maintain the state of samadhi even in more complex tasks. This may be what is meant by "integrating samadhi with life" in Tibetan Buddhism.