One Tool Among Many
The Place of Vipassana in Buddhist Practice
By Thanissaro Bhikkhu
What exactly is vipassana?
Almost any book on early Buddhist meditation will tell you that the Buddha taught
two types of meditation: samatha and vipassana. Samatha, which means tranquility,
is said to be a method fostering strong states of mental absorption, called
jhana. Vipassana -- literally "clear-seeing," but more often translated
as insight meditation -- is said to be a method using a modicum of tranquility
to foster moment-to-moment mindfulness of the inconstancy of events as they
are directly experienced in the present. This mindfulness creates a sense of
dispassion toward all events, thus leading the mind to release from suffering.
These two methods are quite separate, we're told, and of the two, vipassana
is the distinctive Buddhist contribution to meditative science. Other systems
of practice pre-dating the Buddha also taught samatha, but the Buddha was the
first to discover and teach vipassana. Although some Buddhist meditator's may
practice samatha meditation before turning to vipassana, samatha practice is
not really necessary for the pursuit of Awakening. As a meditative tool, the
vipassana method is sufficient for attaining the goal. Or so we're told.
But if you look directly at the Pali discourses -- the earliest extant sources
for our knowledge of the Buddha's teachings -- you'll find that although they
do use the word samatha to mean tranquility, and vipassana to mean clear-seeing,
they otherwise confirm none of the received wisdom about these terms. Only rarely
do they make use of the word vipassana -- a sharp contrast to their frequent
use of the word jhana. When they depict the Buddha telling his disciples to
go meditate, they never quote him as saying "go do vipassana," but
always "go do jhana." And they never equate the word vipassana with
any mindfulness techniques. In the few instances where they do mention vipassana,
they almost always pair it with samatha -- not as two alternative methods, but
as two qualities of mind that a person may "gain" or "be endowed
with," and that should be developed together. One simile, for instance
(S.XXXV.204), compares samatha and vipassana to a swift pair of messengers who
enter the citadel of the body via the noble eightfold path and present their
accurate report -- Unbinding, or Nibbana -- to the consciousness acting as the
citadel's commander. Another passage (A.X.71) recommends that anyone who wishes
to put an end to mental defilement should -- in addition to perfecting the principles
of moral behavior and cultivating seclusion -- be committed to samatha and endowed
with vipassana. This last statement is unremarkable in itself, but the same
discourse also gives the same advice to anyone who wants to master the Jhanas:
be committed to samatha and endowed with vipassana. This suggests that, in the
eyes of those who assembled the Pali discourses, samatha, jhana, and vipassana
were all part of a single path. Samatha and vipassana were used together to
master jhana and then -- based on jhana -- were developed even further to give
rise to the end of mental defilement and to bring release from suffering. This
is a reading that finds support in other discourses as well.
There's a passage, for instance, describing three ways in which samatha and
vipassana can work together to lead to the knowledge of Awakening: either samatha
precedes vipassana, vipassana precedes samatha, or they develop in tandem (A.IV.170).
The wording suggests an image of two oxen pulling a cart: one is placed before
the other or they are yoked side-by-side. Another passage (A.IV.94) indicates
that if samatha precedes vipassana -- or vipassana, samatha -- one's practice
is in a state of imbalance and needs to be rectified. A meditator who has attained
a measure of samatha, but no "vipassana into events based on heightened
discernment (adhipañña-dhamma-vipassana)," should question
a fellow meditator who has attained vipassana: "How should fabrications
(sankhara) be regarded? How should they be investigated? How should they be
viewed with insight?" and then develop vipassana in line with that person's
instructions. The verbs in these questions -- "regarding," "investigating,"
"seeing" -- indicate that there's more to the process of developing
vipassana than a simple mindfulness technique. In fact, as we will see below,
these verbs apply instead to a process of skillful questioning called "appropriate
attention."
The opposite case -- a meditator endowed with a measure of vipassana into events
based on heightened discernment, but no samatha -- should question someone who
has attained samatha: "How should the mind be steadied? How should it be
made to settle down? How should it be unified? How should it be concentrated?"
and then follow that person's instructions so as to develop samatha. The verbs
used here give the impression that "samatha" in this context means
jhana, for they correspond to the verbal formula -- "the mind becomes steady,
settles down, grows unified and concentrated" -- that the Pali discourses
use repeatedly to describe the attainment of jhana. This impression is reinforced
when we note that in every case where the discourses are explicit about the
levels of concentration needed for insight to be liberating, those levels are
the Jhanas.
Once the meditator is endowed with both samatha and vipassana, he/she should
"make an effort to establish those very same skillful qualities to a higher
degree for the ending of the mental fermentations (asava -- sensual passion,
states of being, views, and ignorance)." This corresponds to the path of
samatha and vipassana developing in tandem. A passage in M.149 describes how
this can happen. One knows and sees, as they actually are, the six sense media
(the five senses plus the intellect), their objects, consciousness at each medium,
contact at each medium, and whatever is experienced as pleasure, pain, or neither-pleasure-nor-pain
based on that contact. One maintains this awareness in such a way as to stay
un-infatuated by any of these things, unattached, unconfused, focused on their
drawbacks, abandoning any craving for them: this would count as vipassana. At
the same time -- abandoning physical and mental disturbances, torments, and
distresses -- one experiences ease in body and mind: this would count as samatha.
This practice not only develops samatha and vipassana in tandem, but also brings
the 37 Wings to Awakening-- which include the attainment of jhana -- to the
culmination of their development.
So the proper path is one in which vipassana and samatha are brought into balance,
each supporting and acting as a check on the other. Vipassana helps keep tranquility
from becoming stagnant and dull. Samatha helps prevent the manifestations of
aversion -- such as nausea, dizziness, disorientation, and even total blanking
out -- that can occur when the mind is trapped against its will in the present
moment.
From this description it's obvious that samatha and vipassana are not separate
paths of practice, but instead are complementary ways of relating to the present
moment: samatha provides a sense of ease in the present; vipassana, a clear-eyed
view of events as they actually occur, in and of themselves. It's also obvious
why the two qualities need to function together in mastering jhana. As the standard
instructions on breath meditation indicate (M.118), such a mastery involves
three things: gladdening, concentrating, and liberating the mind. Gladdening
means finding a sense of refreshment and satisfaction in the present. Concentrating
means keeping the mind focused on its object, while liberating means freeing
the mind from the grosser factors making up a lower stage of concentration so
as to attain a higher stage. The first two activities are functions of samatha,
while the last is a function of vipassana. All three must function together.
If, for example, there is concentration and gladdening, with no letting go,
the mind wouldn't be able to refine its concentration at all. The factors that
have to be abandoned in raising the mind from stage x to stage y belong to the
set of factors that got the mind to x in the first place (A.IX.34). Without
the ability clearly to see mental events in the present, there would be no way
skillfully to release the mind from precisely the right factors that tie it
to a lower state of concentration and act as disturbances to a higher one. If,
on the other hand, there is simply a letting go of those factors, without an
appreciation of or steadiness in the stillness that remains, the mind would
drop out of jhana altogether. Thus samatha and vipassana must work together
to bring the mind to right concentration in a masterful way.
The question arises: if vipassana functions in the mastery of jhana, and jhana
is not exclusive to Buddhists, then what is Buddhist about vipassana? The answer
is that vipassana per se is not exclusively Buddhist. What is distinctly Buddhist
is (1) the extent to which both samatha and vipassana are developed; and (2)
the way they are developed -- i.e., the line of questioning used to foster them;
and (3) the way they are combined with an arsenal of meditative tools to bring
the mind to total release.
In M.73, the Buddha advises a monk who has mastered jhana to further develop
samatha and vipassana so as to master six cognitive skills, the most important
of them being that "through the ending of the mental fermentations, one
remains in the fermentation-free release of awareness and release of discernment,
having known and made them manifest for oneself right in the here and now."
This is a description of the Buddhist goal. Some commentators have asserted
that this release is totally a function of vipassana, but there are discourses
that indicate otherwise.
Note that release is twofold: release of awareness and release of discernment.
Release of awareness occurs when a meditator becomes totally dispassionate toward
passion: this is the ultimate function of samatha. Release of discernment occurs
when there is dispassion for ignorance: this is the ultimate function of vipassana
(A.II.29-30). Thus both samatha and vipassana are involved in the twofold nature
of this release.
The Sabbasava Sutta (M.2) states that one's release can be "fermentation-free"
only if one knows and sees in terms of "appropriate attention" (yoniso
manasikara). As the discourse shows, appropriate attention means asking the
proper questions about phenomena, regarding them not in terms of self/other
or being/non-being, but in terms of the four noble truths. In other words, instead
of asking "Do I exist? Don't I exist? What am I?" one asks about an
experience, "Is this stress? The origination of stress? The cessation of
stress? The path leading to the cessation of stress?" Because each of these
categories entails a duty, the answer to these questions determines a course
of action: stress should be comprehended, its origination abandoned, its cessation
realized, and the path to its cessation developed.
Samatha and vipassana belong to the category of the path and so should be developed.
To develop them, one must apply appropriate attention to the task of comprehending
stress, which is comprised of the five aggregates of clinging -- clinging to
physical form, feeling, perception, mental fabrications, and consciousness.
Applying appropriate attention to these aggregates means viewing them in terms
of their drawbacks, as "inconstant, stressful, a disease, a cancer, an
arrow, painful, an affliction, alien, a dissolution, an emptiness, not-self"
(S.XXII.122). A list of questions, distinctive to the Buddha, aids in this approach:
"Is this aggregate constant or inconstant?" "And is anything
inconstant easeful or stressful?" "And is it fitting to regard what
is inconstant, stressful, subject to change as: 'This is mine. This is my self.
This is what I am'?" (S.XXII.59). These questions are applied to every
instance of the five aggregates, whether "past, future, or present; internal
or external; blatant or subtle, common or sublime, far or near." In other
words, the meditator asks these questions of all experiences in the cosmos of
the six sense media.
This line of questioning is part of a strategy leading to a level of knowledge
called "knowing and seeing things as they actually are (yatha-bhuta-ñana-dassana),"
where things are understood in terms of a fivefold perspective: their arising,
their passing away, their drawbacks, their allure, and the escape from them
-- the escape, here, lying in dispassion.
Some commentators have suggested that, in practice, this fivefold perspective
can be gained simply by focusing on the arising and passing away of these aggregates
in the present moment; if one's focus is relentless enough, it will lead naturally
to a knowledge of drawbacks, allure, and escape, sufficient for total release.
The texts, however, don't support this reading, and practical experience would
seem to back them up. As M.101 points out, individual meditator's will discover
that, in some cases, they can develop dispassion for a particular cause of stress
simply by watching it with equanimity; but in other cases, they will need to
make a conscious exertion to develop the dispassion that will provide an escape.
The discourse is vague -- perhaps deliberately so -- as to which approach will
work where. This is something each meditator must test for him or herself in
practice.
The Sabbasava Sutta expands on this point by listing seven approaches to take
in developing dispassion. Vipassana, as a quality of mind, is related to all
seven, but most directly with the first: "seeing," i.e., seeing events
in terms of the four noble truths and the duties appropriate to them. The remaining
six approaches cover ways of carrying out those duties: restraining the mind
from focusing on sense data that would provoke unskillful states of mind; reflecting
on the appropriate reasons for using the requisites of food, clothing, shelter,
and medicine; tolerating painful sensations; avoiding obvious dangers and inappropriate
companions; destroying thoughts of sensual desire, ill will, harmfulness, and
other unskillful states; and developing the seven factors of awakening: mindfulness,
analysis of qualities, persistence, rapture, serenity, concentration, and equanimity.
Each of these approaches covers a wide subset of approaches. Under "destroying,"
for instance, one may eliminate an unskillful mental state by replacing it with
a skillful one, focusing on its drawbacks, turning one's attention away from
it, relaxing the process of thought-fabrication that formed it, or suppressing
it with the brute power of one's will (M.20). Many similar examples could be
drawn from other discourses as well. The overall point is that the ways of the
mind are varied and complex. Different fermentations can come bubbling up in
different guises and respond to different approaches. One's skill as a meditator
lies in mastering a variety of approaches and developing the sensitivity to
know which approach will work best in which situation.
On a more basic level, however, one needs strong motivation to master these
skills in the first place. Because appropriate attention requires abandoning
dichotomies that are so basic to the thought patterns of all people -- "being/not
being" and "me/not me" -- meditator's need strong reasons for
adopting it. This is why the Sabbasava Sutta insists that anyone developing
appropriate attention must first must hold the noble ones (here meaning the
Buddha and his awakened disciples) in high regard. In other words, one must
see that those who have followed the path are truly exemplary. One must also
be well-versed in their teaching and discipline. According to (M.117), "being
well-versed in their teaching" begins with having conviction in their teachings
about karma and rebirth, which provide intellectual and emotional context for
adopting the four noble truths as the basic categories of experience. Being
well-versed in the discipline of the noble ones would include, in addition to
observing the precepts, having some skill in the seven approaches mentioned
above for abandoning the fermentations.
Without this sort of background, meditator's might bring the wrong attitudes
and questions to the practice of watching arising and passing away in the present
moment. For instance, they might be looking for a "true self" and
end up identifying -- consciously or unconsciously -- with the vast, open sense
of awareness that embraces all change, from which it all seems to come and to
which it all seems to return. Or they might long for a sense of connectedness
with the vast interplay of the universe, convinced that -- as all things are
changing -- any desire for changelessness is neurotic and life-denying. For
people with agendas like these, the simple experience of events arising and
passing away in the present won't lead to fivefold knowledge of things as they
are. They'll resist recognizing that the ideas they hold to are a fermentation
of views, or that the experiences of calm that seem to verify those ideas are
simply a fermentation in the form of a state of being. As a result, they won't
be willing to apply the four noble truths to those ideas and experiences. Only
a person willing to see those fermentations as such, and convinced of the need
to transcend them, will be in a position to apply the principles of appropriate
attention to them and thus get beyond them.
So, to answer the question with which we began: Vipassana is not a meditation
technique. It's a quality of mind -- the ability to see events clearly in the
present moment. Although mindfulness is helpful in fostering vipassana, it's
not enough for developing vipassana to the point of total release. Other techniques
and approaches are needed as well. In particular, vipassana needs to be teamed
with samatha -- the ability to center the mind comfortably in states of strong
absorption, or jhana. Only then will the mind have the sense of stability, balance,
and ease it needs to apply a skillful program of questioning called appropriate
attention to all experience: exploring events not in terms of me/not me, or
being/not being, but in terms of the four noble truths. The meditator pursues
this program until it leads to a fivefold understanding of all events: in terms
of their arising, their passing away, their drawbacks, their allure, and the
escape from them. Only then can the mind taste release.
This program for developing vipassana and samatha, in turn, needs the support
of many other attitudes, mental qualities, and techniques of practice. This
was why the Buddha taught it as part of a still larger program, including respect
for the noble ones, mastery of all seven approaches for abandoning the mental
fermentations, and all eight factors of the noble path. To take a reductionist
approach to the practice can produce only reduced results, for meditation is
a skill like carpentry, requiring a mastery of many tools in response to many
different needs. To limit oneself to only one approach in meditation would be
like trying to build a house when one's motivation is uncertain and one's toolbox
contains nothing but hammers.
Bhikkhu Thanissaro
Abbreviations: A = Anguttara Nikaya; M = Majjhima Nikaya; S = Samyutta Nikaya