Meditation

by Ven. Thubten Gyatso

My nephew, a promising young footballer, once tried to impress his monk uncle by telling me that his team meditates before the game.

"Excellent," I replied, "upon what do you meditate?"

"On hatred," he said, with enthusiasm.

It probably worked, but perhaps this is not the most skilful application of the powers of meditation. The purpose of meditation in Buddhist practice is to first reduce the noise of uncontrolled thoughts and emotions, and then turn one's mind to fine analysis of how we exist. This culminates in direct realisation of our ultimate nature, and such wisdom eliminates the self-grasping ignorance that is the root of all suffering. Meditation is also used to train our mind in positive attitudes such as loving kindness. This will not win many football games, but it will make our lives a whole lot better and it provides the support of self-confidence and happiness through which we are able to persevere and achieve that wisdom.

We all want to be attractive and liked by others, so we spend our time and money grooming and decorating our bodies to make them appear as beautiful as possible. But most of us simply do not have the genetic potential to even approach the physical prowess or the bodily perfection of our field, screen, and catwalk idols. On the other hand, every one of us has the mental potential to attain the exquisite beauty of patience, loving kindness, and wisdom. These qualities are real signs of beauty. Even the most seriously physically-challenged person brings warmth and joy to our hearts when their mind is full of loving kindness. The most handsome and athletic people, however, become ugly when they are angry, disgusting when they are greedy, repulsive when they are arrogant, and terrifying when they preach distorted views such as racism.

So, if we want to be liked and be happy, and if we want to ensure that in our future lives we go from happiness to happiness, we must spend more time on the meditation cushion and less in front of the mirror. Meditation requires instruction from an experienced person, a quiet and comfortable place, and more determination than an athlete intent on Olympic gold. Don't worry, that degree of enthusiasm will grow as you begin to taste the benefits of meditation. Initially, results come slowly and are often imperceptible to the meditator, who thinks his or her mind is as crazy as ever. But you know something is happening when people start asking, "How come you are so calm these days? What are you taking?"

Such is the depth of our self-centredness, it is better to not tell anybody we are meditating, otherwise pride will take our mind in a wrong direction, and external obstacles will arise as well. But I can stick my neck out and tell you about my experience, because that's my job. Before deciding to become a monk, I meditated alone for three months in the Australian bush, accompanied only by animals and birds who had no fear. While sitting at night, a marsupial mouse would curl up and sleep in the warmth of my hands, and during the day small birds would hop from my lunch bowl to my head, enjoying their first taste of lentils and rice. I followed a strict daily regime of eight one-hour sessions, two meals, and not going beyond the perimeter of a mental fence around the cabin I had built in a week from timber-mill off-cuts. I had plenty of books on Buddhism to read, but made no contact at all with the outside world.

As thoughts of my immediate life died away, memories of past events came vividly to mind, together with their associated emotions. Sometimes tears flooded down my cheeks, sometimes I could hardly restrain myself from bursting out laughing. As Buddhism is essentially a system of psychology, this experience provided me with ample material to test the framework of Buddhist teaching. The system held, and, on top of that, my personal experiences confirmed ever more strongly that what the Buddha taught is as true for us modern humans as it was for the people of India 2500 years ago.

At the end of the retreat, I climbed to the top of the ridge where, to the right, an old logging track disappeared into virgin rain-forest. To the left, the track ran down to my friend's farm. I was tempted to turn right, but I had to see the world again. Speaking after three months silence was a novelty; open fields of sunshine with grass and springtime flowers after the dark enclosure of the forest were a touch of paradise. That evening, the bush-hippies congregated at the farm for a full-moon party. Without the aid of any substance, I was higher than them all, and soon left the noise of the party to return to the sound of silence in my cabin.

A month later, at work in a hospital in Melbourne, I was telling a young doctor about my experience in retreat. He looked at me in astonishment, "Three months! How could you? What about your career?"

I felt so sorry for him, already locked into a system that would slowly devour him. Such an experience is the best thing anybody can have for their career, and for their life.

Gyatso

This teaching is by the Venerable Thubten Gyatso (previously Dr Adrian Feldmann), an Australian monk and old friend now working in Mongolia. One of the senior students of Lama Yeshe, Lama Zopa Rinpoche (and also Geshe Roach) he is currently teaching at the FPMT centre in Ulaan Baatar. These teachings originally appeared in his local English language newspaper in Ulaan Baatar and arereproduced with his permission.

Thanks to Diane Olander (pelmo@got.net), these teachings first appeared on the Internet on the website (www.gepeling.org) of
The Jangchub Gepel Ling Center for Tibetan Buddhist Studies,
6960 Highway 9, Felton, CA 95018, Tel: 01 (831) 335 1217
where you can find many more teachings and other interesting material.