When we begin meditation, we might begin with a mantra, or a word, or perhaps concentration on the breath. We do this to replace the never ending cycle of thoughts and emotions that circle round us day and night. We replace our everyday thoughts with one new thought so that we can break this cycle of a very coarse mind. At this beginning point, it is important to concentrate on a very distinct and obvious object that is easy to identify and to which one can easily return.

As our mind calms down, and as our mind becomes increasingly more subtle, the distinct and obvious objects that we have been concentrating on begin to get in the way. Originally, our objects of concentration, such as a mantra, or our breath, were more subtle than the coarse ramblings of untrained minds, but as the mind calms down and becomes ever more refined, these objects, which once were subtle, now become coarse themselves, impeding our progress.

One must be careful here and not abandon a meditation object too quickly; or conversely, remain attached to it for too long. If one abandons it too quickly, he or she will want to space out and just sit, without the responsibility of having to concentrate on their meditation object. This is not the way to go; this is being lazy, and induces no progress. One could sit for years in this fashion with no improvement in their meditation. On the other hand, if one does drop into Samadhi, and instead of allowing the mind to rest there, forces it back into attention on the meditation object, then the mind will not experience that shift in consciousness so necessary to allow the mind to then investigate the body and mind with wisdom.

Knowing the difference between dropping into Samadhi and spacing out is therefore very important. Dropping into Samadhi results from intense concentration on your meditation object, until suddenly there is a shift in consciousness into the heart area. This dropping sensation can be subtle, but still physically felt, as if our brain center now resides in the middle of our chest. No thought, emotions or feelings will be present now. Then, after the mind rests in the heart area for a while, a meditator will proceed to investigate the body and mind as instructed in the Four Foundations of Mindfulness. Samadhi and investigation will be separate, but will proceed hand in hand.

Spacing out and relaxing in meditation neither helps us in concentration or investigation. Without Samadhi, the mind does not achieve that cutting edge that is so necessary to cut through our delusions when we study our body and minds. Therefore, if we begin investigation of the body and mind after merely spacing out and relaxing in meditation instead of resting our minds in Samadhi, our investigations many times result in nothing more than an academic examination of our physical body and the psychological attributes of mind. There is not the penetrating insight that can change our destiny.

Samadhi and investigation go hand in hand, one deepening the other. So the first step of a serious meditator is to concentrate the mind on a meditation object intensely for a long period of time so that they achieve Samadhi. Long retreats away from the world, combined with regular practice at home, will improve the prospects of Samadhi considerably.

Even if a meditator has yet to attain Samadhi, investigation should still go on when one is not concentrating. The investigations will not prove to be as penetrating as if one investigates from a perspective of Samadhi, but the investigations will still help by improving the concentration practice at whatever level the meditator has achieved. But keep it simple; choose one of the objects of contemplation as suggested in the Four Foundations of Mindfulness, perhaps body, feelings, memory, thoughts, consciousness, etc., and remain with that particular investigation while at the same time remaining dedicated to your meditation object, alternating back and forth between the two. Remain loyal to your object of investigation as well as your concentration object. Switching back and forth between meditation objects is acceptable in the beginning, but one must settle down at some point in a practice and stick with it. Otherwise, restlessness will cancel out any initial progress that is made.

As the Samadhi and investigations become more subtle, they continue to deepen. Then, there is a point when the meditator will experience a genuine disillusionment with all of the sense stimulations that at one time dominated his or her life. Sense stimulation will be seen as crude disruptions of a new inward peace that has been discovered, as if one has discovered heaven and wants nothing more to do with earthly existence. Once this happens, the meditator may think that this is the culmination of practice - that they have achieved Nibbana. But they haven't. This is only a step in the right direction because the one who experiences this is still attached and clings to this new idea of a heavenly existence, and has aversion to sensory perception. In other words, an "I" thought is still alive and well, which is the penultimate delusion, the delusion that all these experiences are happening to someone.

At this point, we are still unaware of our root unawareness. Our awareness of all subtle movements of mind is so complete, so bright and clear, but we remain unaware of the basic movement of mind that creates the idea of "me." Our investigations, as they became more and more subtle, were able to see that involvement by the mind with anything, anything at all, involves an unawareness. The involvement itself is a subtle form of attachment, and as long as we have any sort of attachment, we can never be free, because we are unaware of the attachment. The moment we become aware of any attachment, that awareness is that particular attachment's kiss of death, The trick is becoming aware of all attachments , even the most subtle,. And this is what investigating deeply is all about; ferreting out all of our attachments and our aversions and seeing them for what they are, which is an unawareness of truth, or an unawareness of our delusions.

This increasing awareness requires courage, and it is our Samadhi practice, along with our steady, consistent investigations, that build that courage. Courage is required because as we tear down our illusions, we are actually tearing adown everything that we have ever believed in, and if we don't have the courage to dive into his deep hole of emptiness, we will never see what is in there, which is everything. This is no different than jumping off a cliff, because, as the levels deepen, our life seems to be at stake so many times.

And then the bottom drops out. It drops out for only an instant, but an instant that changes everything. No longer is there a "me" experiencing anything. No longer is there a "me" experiencing light, or love, or anything if that sort. There is just . . . "that."

No more unawareness, no more attachment or aversion, no eye, no ear, no nose, tongue, body or mind; no path, no fruition, only a full nothingness that is the doorway to total freedom. There is nothing left to be reborn.

This awareness has nothing to do with our bodies, our consciousness, our memories, feelings, thoughts, emotions, or anything found within existence as we know it. This awareness has nothing to do with us; it just is, and although we cannot describe it in words, its radiance can be experienced. Now the mind has none of the colorings that it had in the past. Anything that arises in mind, such as feelings, thoughts, consciousness, is now reflected back to its source with no residual deposits.

Now life proceeds not much differently than it did before. Our bodies and minds do what bodies and minds do; working, eating, sleeping, but now there is a difference. Nothing sticks in the mind. It all passes through as if the mind wasn't there, and can be described as a constant radiance, a state of pure awareness of which the consciousness of body and mind, which arises when this pure awareness contacts an object in conjunction with a sense organ, never makes as much as a ripple to disturb the radiance.

And it all begins with watching one's breath, and when one is not watching one's breath, then one should be investigating the various mental formations that arise, constantly asking, "What is this? Where did it come from? Where will it go?"

"What am I?"

Author's Bio: 

E. Raymond Rock of Fort Myers, Florida is cofounder and principal teacher at the Southwest Florida Insight Center, www.SouthwestFloridaInsightCenter.com.His twenty-nine years of meditation experience has taken him across four continents, including two stopovers in Thailand where he practiced in the remote northeast forests as an ordained Theravada Buddhist monk. His book, A Year to Enlightenment (Career Press/New Page Books) is now available at major bookstores and online retailers. Visit www.AYearToEnlightenment.com