Concentration: The Jhanas
Photo by Dan Freeman
Concentration is a key link in the transcendent chain of dependent origination—the path that leads out of self-created suffering. What does concentration in deep meditation actually look like, and what are we capable of when we develop the capacity for it?
In this talk, Zuisei traces the four jhanas—deep states of one-pointed meditation—as a map of the mind's own nature, encouraging students to go deeper into their practice and to see the existence of these states of concentration as a source of inspiration.
This dharma talk was given by Zuisei Goddard.
Transcript
This transcript is based on Zuisei's talk notes and may differ slightly from the final talk.
Concentration
Tonight I want to speak instead about one of the links in the transcendent chain of dependent origination, and that’s concentration. Briefly, to review, the transcendent chain begins where the original chain ends—with old age and death, which is also identified as suffering. So where the first chain moves from ignorance, the first cause, and traces the path to the way that suffering comes about, the second chain begins with suffering and describes the path to liberation.
The links of that chain are: suffering, faith, joy, rapture, tranquility, happiness, concentration, knowledge and vision of things as they really are, disenchantment, dispassion, liberation, and knowledge of the destruction of the fetters (the moment when you realize “what had to be done has been done, there’s no more coming into being”).
I want to talk about concentration because it’s a key element of our practice, but also because of what I see happening with a number of you. You’ve been sitting, you’re practicing, and little by little you’re gaining insight into things, including yourself. Several of you have transitioned to a different practice, and this is the perfect time to speak about how to continue deepening your zazen. I’m very pleased with what I’m seeing, and I want to encourage all of you to not let up—this is the time to really devote care and attention to your zazen. Protect the time if you need to. Was it Thubten Chodron who said, block off time on your calendar and say to your family and friends, “I have an appointment with the Buddha”?
We don’t hesitate for an instant to say to our partner, “Honey, I have to go. I have a work meeting” but when it comes to our practice, we hesitate. We think it’s selfish or self-indulgent. We think they might think we’re choosing something over spending time with them. But it’s perfectly okay to devote time to your practice. It’ll benefit you and everyone around you, and there’ll be time enough for work and the movies or dancing or anything else you’d like to do. There’s time for all of it.
Some time ago I put together a video on beginning instruction in zazen. At the monastery we listened to beginning instruction once a month, and it was so helpful, because unlike other traditions, we don’t do guided meditation, so once we’re shown what to do at the beginning of your practice, you’re on your own. So it’s important to establish good habits from the beginning, or to correct them early if you’ve gone a bit off, so you don’t end up working against yourself.
Right Concentration: the Four Jhanas
In the sutras, concentration—or right concentration, as the eighth factor of the path—is defined as entering into and abiding in the four jhanas, the deep states of meditation the Buddha moved through as he approached liberation.
Jhana or dhyana, in Sanskrit, is transliterated in Japanese as Zen, and we could describe it as a state of sustained unified attention. It’s “meditative absorption” to such an extent that subject and object merge. It’s the moment in which you’re no longer focusing on the breath, but there’s just breath breathing itself.
There are actually eight jhanas, but I’ll only speak of four, since the other four pertain to the formless realms, so we’ll stay with those we can conventionally experience.
First Jhana
The first jhana is described like this: Secluded from sense pleasures, secluded from unwholesome states, a student enters and dwells in the first jhana, which is accompanied by initial and sustained application of mind and filled with rapture and happiness born of seclusion.
Think of what happens during sesshin, our silent meditation retreat. First, we seclude ourselves—why? To create some space between us and our responsibilities and preoccupations. We need to have some space, some quiet, to be able to look deeply at our bodies and minds. And once we have that seclusion, we turn our attention to the object of our meditation—let’s say it’s the breath. As we go deeper and deeper into it, rapture and happiness appear.
But how do we get there? There are what are called the five factors of absorption: Initial application of mind (also called applied thought), sustained application of mind, rapture, happiness, and one-pointedness. Applied or initial thought is what it says: you deliberately turn your mind toward the object—the breath. So you’re definitely doing something. With sustained application you keep your attention where you want it. Rapture is a feeling of delight in being the breath. Happiness is the pleasant feeling that comes from that absorption. One-pointedness of mind: subject and object merge.
In the first jhana you become absorbed, but there’s still some effort involved in the process. The Buddha created similes for each of these, and he says that entering the first jhana is like being released from debt, from illness, imprisonment, slavery. Naturally you would be filled with happiness. And that mental application is like someone taking a bath and making a ball with powdered soap. They wet and knead the ball, letting water suffuse it completely. In this way, rapture and happiness born of seclusion permeates your body.
Second Jhana
In the second jhana you gain inner confidence and mental unification born of seclusion, [but] free from directed thought and evaluation. This is called “internal assurance.” You’re beginning to let go of effort. There’s confidence now, and there’s unification, but now it’s free of directed thought and evaluation. In other words, you don’t have to make yourself concentrate. You don’t have to let go of a thought and come back. It happens naturally. In this state, your mind is like a lake with no outflow. Water wells up from below and slowly drenches, steeps, fills the lake with its coolness. When there’s no hole, no gap, the water can’t leak out. It simply rises slowly, because that’s what water does when it accumulates. So, here too, rapture and happiness born of concentration pervade the body, but as we enter.
Third Jhana
In the third jhana, rapture fades and we dwell in equanimity, mindful and clearly comprehending, dwelling happily in the body. Now rapture has faded, and with it the excitement that accompanies it. But there’s still a kind of happiness, a kind of pleasure, that comes from equanimity and mindfulness.
We think the hit of dopamine when we watch a short video is pleasurable. But it doesn’t hold a light to the kind of pleasure we feel when we rest in that still, undivided mind.
I’ve always said that a unified mind feels good. Practice might not always feel good, but a unified mind does. That’s why it’s so important to persevere, to get past the boredom and restlessness. Otherwise we never get to experience the pleasure of an undistracted, unsplintered mind. We think the hit of dopamine when we watch a short video is pleasurable. But it doesn’t hold a light to the kind of pleasure we feel when we rest in that still, undivided mind.
The simile here is of blue and red and white lotus flowers that thrive immersed in the water, some are deep down, some are halfway up, some float on the surface (this is referring to different levels of absorption). But in every case, cool water permeates their roots all the way to their tips. The lotus flowers just sit quietly, and by itself, cool water permeates their flower bodies. There’s nothing the lotus needs to do.
Fourth Jhana
Finally, in the fourth jhana we abandon pleasure and pain, joy and grief, and enter and dwell in a state which has neither-pleasure-nor-pain but has purity of mindfulness due to equanimity.
Did you note the progression? We went from attention to rapture to happiness to equanimity to mindfulness. So it’s not that there’s nothing here, or nothing happening. There’s mindfulness as a direct result of equanimity, which in turn came once attention and rapture and happiness all faded. Here, it’s as if you were sitting with a white cloth covering you from head to toe. Having abandoned pleasure and pain, joy and grief, you let your whole body be covered by this cloth, which is none other than the pure, bright mind.
Fifth Factor of Concentration
And just to make sure you’re not holding onto anything, the Buddha describes a fifth factor of concentration. The four jhanas are the first four, and the fifth is a contemplation designed to let the jhanas self-destruct. Here you remind yourself, the jhanas are fabricated states—fabricated and “intended.” I love that. In other words, there’s intention behind each of these. And if there’s intention, there’s the one who is intending. But if we’re going to be liberated—truly liberated—we have to let that one go. So we remind ourselves, “These jhanas are fabricated and intended, and whatever’s fabricated and intended is changing and subject to end.”
But what’s beyond that end? What is unending and unchanging? When you get to that place, that’s when you become liberated. That’s when you see things as they really are.
Listen to Your Own Practice
If you do watch that video on beginning instruction in meditation, you’ll notice I don’t speak of the jhanas. They’re not spoken of overtly in Zen at all. So why do I bring them up? Certainly not to make you feel bad or like you’re missing something if you haven’t experienced them. Certainly not so you can keep tabs of your zazen and see if you can check off each one. I speak of them because they describe very beautifully what happens in our meditation, whether Zen or Theravada or Vajrayana or even a whole different tradition, these elements appear in every contemplative practice once you get into it deeply enough. So please consider them a source of inspiration. They’re simply describing what your mind is already capable of doing.
And if you feel like your mind is too busy, like you spend most of your time just trying to get it to shut up, that tells you something. Every period of zazen is giving us information, about how we need to sit, for how long, how often, alone or with people. And every one of us may need slightly different things, which means you have to pay a whole lot of attention, and trust what you see. Maybe, after really studying your practice and letting yourself try different things, you start to feel that what would really help you is to sit outdoors. Or maybe walking would be better than sitting still. Maybe you need to do several short periods throughout the day. Maybe you need one long chunk to really go deep.
I can share what works for me, but that’s what works for me—it might not work for you, you have to find that out for yourself. What’s the best time of day? What’s the most comfortable posture? Never be afraid to experiment. Don’t be afraid to “do what you’re not supposed to do.” There’s no “supposed to;” there’s just what will help you get free. If you’re not sure, let’s talk about it, but the best thing is to learn for yourself what works best. As my teacher always said to me, You want to be your own best teacher. Which means being your own best student. Because we know. We do actually know what we need. We just have to listen, we just have to watch, and we have to trust.
Explore further
01 : How to Meditate wirh Zuisei Goddard
02 : Right Concentration with Zuisei Goddard
03 : Shikantaza: Open Awareness with Zuisei Goddard
This dharma talk on The Four Jhanas was given by Vanessa Zuisei Goddard, Zen Buddhist Guiding Teacher of Ocean Mind Sangha. Audio podcast and transcript available.