READING ROOM: How to Breathe

WHERE TO START? Beginning and novice meditators often pose this question as they try to begin a regular meditation practice. The answer is both simple and complex—begin with the breath. In this excerpt from “Mindfulness in Plain English” (Wisdom Books), Bhante Henepola Gunaratana talks about the seemingly mundane breath as the starting point to a lifetime practice of vipassana---or insight---meditation in the Buddhist tradition. “Bhante G,” as he is known, is the founder and head of the Bhavana Society monastic/meditation center in Hampshire County, West Virginia, near High View, and is an internationally known meditation teacher. This excerpt reprinted with the author’s permission.

THE MEDITATION WE TEACH is called Insight Meditation... The variety of possible objects of meditation is nearly unlimited, and human beings have used an enormous number down through the ages... The method we are explaining here, however, is considered the most traditional and is probably what Gotama Buddha taught his students. The Satipatthana Sutta, the Buddha’s original discourse on mindfulness, specifically says that one must begin by focusing the attention on the breathing and then go on to note all other physical and mental phenomenon which arise.

We sit, watching the air going in and out of our noses. At first glance, this seems an exceedingly odd and useless procedure. Before going on to specific instructions, let us examine the reason behind it. The first question we might address is why use any focus of attention at all? We are after all, trying to develop awareness. Why not just sit down and be aware of whatever happens to be present in the mind?

In fact there are meditations of that nature. They are sometimes referred to as unstructured meditation and they are quite difficult. The mind is tricky. Thought is an inherently complicated procedure. By that we mean we become trapped, wrapped up, and stuck in the thought chain. One thought leads to another which leads to another, and another, and another, and so on. Fifteen minutes later we suddenly wake up and realize we spent that whole time stuck in a daydream or sexual fantasy or a set of worries about our bills or whatever.

There is a difference between being aware of a thought and thinking a thought. That difference is very subtle; it is primarily a matter of feeling or texture. A thought you are simply aware of with bare attention feels light in texture; there is a sense of distance between that thought and the awareness viewing it. It arises lightly like a bubble, and it passes away without necessarily giving rise to the next thought in that chain. Normal conscious thought is much heavier in texture. It is ponderous, commanding, and compulsive. It sucks you in and grabs control of consciousness. By its very nature it is obsessional, and it leads straight to the next thought in the chain, apparently with no gap between them.

Conscious thought sets up a corresponding tension in the body, such as muscular contraction or a quickening of the heartbeat. But you won’t feel tension until it grows to actual pain, because normal conscious thought is also greedy. It grabs your attention and leaves none to notice its own effect. The difference between being aware of the thought and thinking the thought is very real. But it is extremely subtle and difficult to see. Concentration is one of the tools needed to be able to see the difference.