The Four Foundations of Mindfulness – Vedana or Feelings
Jetsunma Tenzin Palmo, USA, Santa Cruz, September 8th 2002, Tape 2.
So the second level of mindfulness is called sensation or feeling. However in the West, the term feeling is usually associated with emotions, but that’s not what is meant here. So perhaps “sensation” is a better translation. The Sanskrit is vedana. So basically, sensations are pleasant, unpleasant or neutral. Think about that. Everything we experience is either pleasurable, non-pleasurable or neutral. Consider the fantasy and fuss we make out of those basic sensations, either physical or mental.
Either it’s pleasurable in which case we desire and grasp: we want it, hold onto it, we cling to it, we dream of it, we fantasise about it, we strive to get it, and when we’ve got it, we are delighted—at least for a while. Or else the sensation is unpleasant, in which case we push it away, don’t want it, we resent it and hate it, and we spend so much effort to make sure we keep it at a distance. Or else it’s neutral in which case we are bored and overlook it. Once one begins to experience sensation just as sensation, one realises how incredibly programmed we are. Programmed to reach out for what we like and to push away what we don’t like. We do it so unconsciously. We are often not even aware that we are doing it. As an example, just sitting here: if we are bit uncomfortable, we shift around automatically until we are comfortable again.
In everything we look at, that we hear, that we smell, that we touch, that we taste: we either like it or we don’t like, pleasant or unpleasant. Moment to moment thoughts rising in the mind, either pleasing or unpleasing or neutral. And those that are pleasing we grasp at, those that are unpleasing we try to avoid. Our whole life is led by that. This is why the meditation on sensation is so important. Some of you may have undergone ten-day retreat with the Goenka system. His main emphasis is on this second level of Satipatthana, of the sensation. Actually, I have never done a Goenka course but I know a lot of people who have. I am told that for the first two or three days the concentration is focused on the breath in order to quieten the mind. Then they practise what is call a “sweeping” meditation, going from the top of the head to the bottom of the feet, just being conscious of the sensations in the body and one’s reaction to these sensations, just observing that.
So this whole question of how our lives are governed by these sensations of pleasure or displeasure is actually quite an eye-opener, because this rules everything we do and think. Normally it’s so unconscious that we truly are not aware that we are doing it. It’s not that we should avoid pleasure like early medieval ascetics who considered anything pleasurable to come from the devil! It means cultivating a mind of equanimity which doesn’t automatically just reach out and grasp at what’s pleasurable, or always try to avoid anything uncomfortable. But we can take both on the path, whatever comes.
One time when I was first ordained, I went to Thailand and I met up with a Thai princess who took me to her country estate which was bordering on the ocean, such a clear turquoise sea, silver beaches, palm trees and it was all private. Then five minutes through the mangrove groves and there was this beautiful lake with lotuses, and I was given a lovely small house of polished teak in the middle of the lake with this little wooden bridge over it. Inside there were big windows and a huge bed that took up most of the room with all these silk cushions… plus three servants! So I said to the princess at some point, “I actually feel a bit uncomfortable about this. I just renounced the world and now look!” But she replied, “You didn’t seek for this. For some reason according to your karma this has come to you for this time. When things are pleasant, that’s nice, and when things are unpleasant, that’s also okay.” So I thought that she was right. Because then I went back to India where I had no money and lived in rat-infested hovels, but that was also nice, I had a great time, so it doesn’t matter.
In the early days we lived very simply. We had nothing and we were all very poor. The Tibetans were poor in those days, the volunteers were poor, India was poor, sometimes we didn’t even have the price of a cup of tea—there is no small American currency equivalent to that cost! But it didn’t matter. Sometimes we were sick, sometimes we were healthy, the mind can deal with it. The problem is not external situation, the problem is our response to those external situations.
So the problem with the American culture, as it is being given to you now, is that people are being seduced with the idea that our lives must always be flourishing and comfortable, and that if we are uncomfortable or in pain or if we have any problems or any downward falls in our economy, that’s failure. For as long as we stay looking young and beautiful and healthy and well-dressed and successful, that is the success. So we are told that we are here on earth to have a good time and to be cosy and have as many pleasant experiences as possible and to avoid anything which is unpleasant and painful. This is why when the nation was suddenly attacked, everyone went into a state of shock—how dare anyone attack us, we are impregnable! We can attack others but nobody dare attack us! Indignant and insulted that anyone dare threaten America’s comfort and its security. This is not just on a national level but on a personal level too. So the nation as a result has become extremely paranoid and insulated instead of arousing compassion and empathy. After all, this is the situation for much of the world.
We are in this world to learn, to develop, to grow up, to realise our true nature, to stop identifying with all the wrong things and start learning to appreciate the real things. And that is why so often we can learn from difficulties, we can learn from misfortune, we can learn from that which troubles us and painful experiences can be our greatest spiritual friend. Even if we feel physical pain our first reaction is to try to take something to get rid of that pain. The last thing we are thinking of is facing pain and using the pain as our spiritual practice.
So we need to cultivate an openness and acceptance towards unpleasant physical and mental states and also to face pleasurable experiences without attachment. To acquire an equanimity so that we can learn from everything without our habitual response of avoidance or attraction. We learn from pleasure, we learn from pain. From pleasure we can learn how to enjoy the moment and let it go, and from pain we can learn how to skilfully cope without this sense of rejection. We don’t have to invite pain and unpleasant things—actually if we wait long enough, they will come. But when they do come, how do we respond skilfully? When people are difficult for us, when people create problems for us, how do we react? Do we see them as the enemy? Do we see them as our greatest spiritual friend and helper on our path? Are they a cause of anger, resentment, frustration or are they the cause of patience, understanding, compassion? The choice is ours.
Pain in itself is a very interesting phenomenon because if one looks into the pain instead of trying to run away from it, avoid it or cover it up, if one goes straight into the pain—either emotional pain or physical pain—then in itself, because it is so intense, it can become a profound object of concentration. For example one time when I was living in the cave, I was chopping wood and my axe slipped and nearly cut my thumb off! Since I was living in the cave there wasn’t much I could do about it, so I simply bound the thumb close to the hand with a khata—one of those white Tibetan scarves. Then I sat down, and since it was extremely painful I thought, “What to do?” Well, it was a wonderful object of meditation, so compelling! So I sat and I observed the pain.
Now, pain is so interesting when we just look at it in a relaxed manner. Don’t worry about it but just relax and watch. This pain, it comes in waves, it’s not a solid block. When we really look, it swells and then it goes down and it swells and recedes, and to my mind it was like an orchestra playing a symphony: we have the violins and the strings and then add the trumpets. Then the percussions join in there are all the different instruments playing together. Sometimes a crescendo of trumpets and then the violins would take over followed by drums: stabbing pains, aching pains, tearing pains, all types of pains, so many different kinds of sensations, all creating this incredible symphony! As I watched this happen, the idea of pain didn’t arise, it was just pure sensations. Then as I looked at these sensations as they rose and fell, rose and fell, not me or mine, they became transparent and behind the noise of the pain was this empty silence. It was a very profound meditation at the time. At a certain point I felt that it wasn’t hurting so much and realised that hours had passed. We can learn so much and our lives are constantly offering us means to learn, to understand and to develop but usually we cover it all over. We don’t want to look. So this question of being aware, of being conscious, of being present is so important to our inner development.
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May All Beings Benefit
Sarva Mangalam