by Bill Morgan
PART FOUR
THE CULTIVATION OF INSIGHT
The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes but in having new eyes.
—Marcel Proust
13
THE SEVEN FACTORS OF OPTIMAL PRESENCE
I ONCE HAD A TRANSFORMATIVE EXPERIENCE in a very ordinary setting. I was sitting near the edge of the ocean, drinking a bottle of fruit juice, distracted. A bee buzzed closer and landed on the edge of the bottle. My first impulse was to swat the intruder away. Suddenly I was transfixed: the elegant, colorful hovering of the bee, the sunlight twinkling on the bottle, the soothing sound of the waves lapping the shore, a heart-piercing sense of harmony and belonging rippling through my nervous system, flooding my senses. Everything appeared mysterious and precious. Disparate sounds became harmonious, resonant. I felt fully alive, an energized participant-observer who began to experience everything in this light. Sights were vivid; sounds were magical. Even the bee alighting on my bottle of juice, the bee I had considered swatting in irritation and fear just a moment before, had as much right to be here as I did. Realizing that I could change my entire state of mind without changing anything externally was profound. The experience led me to ask important questions, the same questions that Buddhist psychology asks regarding this state: What does the state of deep, heartfelt presence consist of? What are its component parts? How can this state be accessed more of the time?
These questions are asked within the context of the abiding truth that all of our experience, both inside and outside, is in a state of constant flux. In the West we try to control our external environment, so it is pleasant, comfortable, predictable. We try to avoid painful feelings and disquieting thoughts.
From the Buddhist vantage point, this approach may have limited, short-term efficacy, but ultimately it is limited precisely because of the unreliable, constantly shifting nature of all experience. This turns everything on its head. What can be done if nothing is stable? This is the ultimate existential challenge of Buddhist psychology. Recognizing this flux as the fundamental backdrop of experience, the challenge becomes how to find contentment in this erratic landscape. According to the Buddha, the key to deeper satisfaction is to be found in the cultivation of specific qualities of mind and heart, rather than in favorably manipulating elements of the external environment.
When first practicing meditation, I was under the impression that mindfulness was the only important mental training and that all good things would follow from that discipline. Many years later I learned that there were classically seven factors involved in optimal presence. These qualities are present when the mind is deeply engaged and focused in meditation but also when we are fully engaged and connected in any life situation. They arise when we are doing something we love or are surrounded by natural beauty or are listening intently. They are present when I am sitting by the edge of a lake, imagining that everything before me is exquisite.
Classical Arrangement of Factors of Optimal Presence
Below are the qualities of optimal presence in the order in which they are said to classically arise in meditation practice:
Mindfulness: The capacities to be aware of what we are experiencing in the present and to remember to return to the present are the central qualities of sati, or mindfulness. This quality of mind is central and necessary but not sufficient for full presence.
Investigation: In this context, investigation means to closely observe all of the sensory and mental experiences in the present moment. It does not include analyzing, reflecting, comparing, synthesizing, figuring things out, or intellectualizing. It is not the investigation of the content of experience, but rather of the underlying processes, such as the changing nature of phenomena and the cause-and-effect links in experience. This focus of investigation is completely foreign to our cultural context, in which content is king and in which we identify so completely with our world of thoughts and stories. We will explore this factor in depth in subsequent chapters.
Energy: The Pali word viriya, or energy, means a steady and balanced effort, in the 4 to 6 range discussed in chapter 11.
Joy: Delight arises when the mind is steady and engaged in the present moment without strain. The Buddha spoke of this as nonsensory joy, because it arises without external props. This brings a sense of accomplishment as the wild energies of the mind become harnessed. This type of joy can be more satisfying than sensual pleasure, providing powerful positive feedback for sustaining meditation.
Calm: Gradually the mind and heart move toward a more subtle level of contentment, which is less thrilling but more peaceful.
Concentration: Joy and calm are the precursors to concentration. Now a natural stabilization arises because the mind wants to settle, because it is both delightful and calm in the present moment.
Equanimity: The mind is balanced and views phenomena impartially, neither holding on to experiences nor pushing them away. Everything begins to arise with evenhanded acceptance.
Rationale for This Order
The order of these factors was discovered long ago through the consistent reports of early practitioners. Mindfulness naturally leads to keen investigation of the ways the mind works, especially with respect to the creation of mental suffering. The Buddha was clear about this. He did not advocate paying attention randomly, but encouraged looking into suffering and its causes. He was a physician treating mental suffering.
As it starts to become clear how mental suffering was being created—primarily through overly identifying with aspects of experience that are impermanent—energy is naturally aroused. Why? The meditator begins to see something he or she has not previously understood—that there is a clear, available path to reducing mental suffering. Contrary to our prevailing wiring and conditioning, it is not about getting rid of unwanted thoughts and feelings. Rather, the secret to reducing mental suffering is consciously settling in a balanced, accepting manner into the flow of experience. This results naturally in the meditator being more invested in this mode of caring attention. He or she can now exercise agency in the process of reducing dis-ease and increasing well-being.
The discovery that one can reduce one’s own suffering leads to joy. The attention becomes rapt, the mind less interested in spacing out or seeking greener pastures elsewhere. There is an element of slight restlessness and excitement in this joy, and over time the mind settles into an even deeper contentment or calm. In turn, this state of calm ultimately opens the path to a steady, riveted attention, or concentration. The final factor of equanimity allows or invites whatever arises in experience in an evenhanded manner, while maintaining the previous six factors of presence.
A New Template for Western Meditators
This classical order does not translate straightforwardly for Westerners. Because of our restlessness and strong attachment to discursive thought, the traditional unfolding of these factors of presence is stymied.
Mindfulness—the intention to bring our focus into the present moment—is the cross-cultural starting point. Whereas in the East this naturally leads to an investigation of the processes of the mind, in this culture it often leads to thinking, which can lead to more thinking, a proliferation of cognitive problem solving and analytical, psychological types of investigation.
Because of this overarching tendency to figure things out, mindfulness does not readily link up with an investigation into the causes of mental suffering and what can be done about it. Therefore balanced energy will not come forward. If energy is not properly aroused, then joy, calm, concentration, and equanimity have little chance of showing up in a stable fashion. In short, the meditator is left with a great deal of wavering, and the practice is destined to remain a conflicted and frustrating mystery.
The following is the proposed, more effective order for many of us:
Mindfulness is the starting point, but our tense bodies and restless, thinking minds need to be addressed first, so we first cultivate mindfulness in the service of relaxing, settl
ing, and calm.
We then further cultivate the holding environment, inviting more energy, interest, and affect, including joy.
Now, with positive reinforcement established in meditation and the mind naturally inclined toward the present, it becomes possible to practice concentration/tranquility meditation. This then becomes the platform for a balanced, inclusive investigation that leads to broad-based acceptance and equanimity.
TRADITIONAL ORDER
WESTERN ORDER
Mindfulness
Mindfulness
Investigation
Calm
Balanced Energy
Joy
Joy
Balanced Energy
Calm
Concentration
Concentration
Investigation
Equanimity
Equanimity
How to Experience This Optimal State More Frequently
Meditators eventually pose a vital question about optimal presence: how can I elicit this wholehearted state more of the time in my life?
Once we have learned to identify these qualities of presence in our meditation experience, we can check to see which of them are present and creatively invite those absent to join. This will enrich our experience, not just in meditation but in life. For example, I am walking down the street, distracted, not particularly aware of my body, and noticing my surroundings only to the extent that I don’t bump into anything. Which qualities of presence are available? None of them. This is what I call “casual” or “halfhearted” attention, something we are all familiar with.
Suppose I stop and take a deep breath. I become aware of the body, noticing sights, sounds, smells. I imagine that everything I sense has its own unique beauty, and I imagine that I am connected to all of it. And I become aware that the ability to think and perceive in this way is a miracle. Voilà! Mindfulness, energy, joy, calm, and even concentration have come into my experience, and I am more fully engaged in heart and mind.
In time, we learn to elicit these qualities in formal meditation. And when we do, the mind is settled, pliable, and prepared to begin the journey of investigation.
QUESTIONS FOR CONSIDERATION
I was taught that just paying attention to what is going on was the main point and that everything would follow from that. Why aren’t these factors emphasized more?
They are in the texts, but again, perhaps at that time and cultural context these qualities arose more spontaneously and straightforwardly. Here it is different, and in my experience the cultivation of these factors needs to be front-loaded in practice instructions. Just as there is more interest in self-compassion practices currently, stemming from our pandemic sense of unworthiness, I believe there will be an increasing wave of interest in these seven factors of awakening, as they are traditionally called.
There seems to be more self-monitoring, or evaluation of my practice, involved in your recommendations. I previously have only checked to see if mindfulness was present. Doesn’t more reflection and self-monitoring lead to excessive thinking and analyzing?
Because we so regularly get hijacked by thought, there is a tendency to eliminate it almost entirely in many meditation instructions, as if thinking were the enemy. Since discursive thought is one of our central meaning-making mainstays, the pendulum has swung too far here. Using reflection and monitoring judiciously and pointedly in meditation can be extremely helpful. We are not inviting thinking randomly; we are using words that help us locate and assess the internal state they are pointing to. I ask, during meditation, “Is calm present? Is balanced energy present? Is joy present?” These are not theoretical or tangential questions. They are inviting a direct look, on the spot, at the composition of the internal landscape. If these qualities are found to be weak or absent, the next encouragement is to invite them, to be creative in inviting them. Why? Because they are the soil and water and sun of mindfulness, without which the flowers of compassion and understanding will not grow.
14
INVESTIGATION GAMES
A CLOSETED “EXPLORER” resides in each of us. We like to solve puzzles and look for buried treasures. I remember the thrill of an Easter egg hunt or a simple game of hide-and-seek. These games captivate our attention. They hold our focus as long as we have a chance of solving the puzzle or finding something special. Otherwise discouragement creeps in and we lose energy.
Effective mindful investigation benefits from harnessing this natural interest.
However, it is important to create games that are challenging but not exasperating. One of those other Western tendencies—the need to push, strive, overcome, master—can show up at any time in meditation. In the context of investigation, we can set the bar unrealistically high, fail to reach the goal, and get self-critical about our perceived sense of failure. Seeing this self-defeating pattern is itself an insight that can arise from investigation.
True investigation, in the Buddhist psychological sense, is another of the qualities said to spontaneously arise with mindfulness practice. Unfortunately, this too has rarely been my experience, not unless there are specific directives and invitations to look in particular ways. Our inclination to think about the content of experience and analyze it runs deep. We are content junkies. So when we begin to practice mindfulness, this type of thinking and analysis comes to visit. If there are not very specific instructions about how to identify these thought habits while inclining toward new and interesting ways of considering our inner world of experience, we can find ourselves swimming in the same old pond, and new insights will not arise.
The insights highlighted in Buddhist meditation practice are directed toward the infrastructure and processes of the mind; they are not usually involved with content. However, seeing the limitation of thought and the stress involved with identification with its content can be an extremely important investigation. I’ve realized over time that my own narcissistic preoccupation has caused me considerable suffering.
When I identify with the story of my relationship with my father, poignant memories of our shared adventures arise. I feel sweet sorrow. I wish I had appreciated him more. I feel disappointed. I can meander along in reverie about my father. But when I step back, I see that particular thoughts create particular moods.
This is the direction of investigation: to watch closely the network of connections and to see which of them lead to contentment and which do not. In this way, taking a step back from content, mindfulness coupled with investigation begins to reveal to us how we have been creating trouble for ourselves unawares.
Redefining Investigation
I often went fishing with my father. It was there that I developed an appreciation for pausing, waiting, patience. Fishing requires settling back and giving up control. The line is in the water. Maybe something comes to visit, maybe not. However, there is keen attention to the slightest movement at the end of the fishing pole. How it moves and the pattern of that movement matter. If it’s an eel, there is one strong, enduring drag on the line. A catfish or bass gives intermittent tugs. A pickerel gives a first pull; then the line goes soft for a bit. The fish is holding the bait lightly, taking it to a comfortable spot. You have to let the line run. Then the pickerel yanks. That’s when you yank. If you pull the pole at the first tug, you lose the fish. It is critical to first step back and notice the context, not just react impulsively.
The Buddhist notion of investigation involves noticing the shifts in the field of experience, getting curious about the subtle pushes and pulls, noticing what feelings and thoughts come to visit and the effect they have on the breath and the body, the subtleties of cause and effect. When the body is tense, the mind does not easily relax. If I am cranky, the whole world seems irritating.
Some of what we see is predictable, and we are easily bored. Familiarity breeds habituation and even contempt at times. We stop seeing with fresh eyes. We want something more entertaining and fly away into fantasy. In fact, many of the Buddha’s instructions were enc
ouragements to look more deeply and consistently into the ordinary, to become more interested in the mundane. There are secrets here in the predictable, but we need to become curious before they will be revealed. Only then will we discover the self-created causes of suffering and the self-created causes of contentment.
In this type of investigation, attention is not primarily on content, on the particular fish swimming in the aquarium and what it reminds you of. Rather, it is on the changing patterns in the internal landscape and the interactive nature of experience. For example, when I was twelve, I played a game when I got into bed. After allowing my mind to drift for a while, I would pause and see if I could trace back the series of thoughts that led to the most recent thought. In effect, I was following the bread crumbs of cause-and-effect thoughts. I also noticed when emotions arose after particular thoughts. This is an example of the kind of investigation we are embarking on in meditation. It involves stepping back from content.
Shared Qualities of Experience
Buddhist meditators discovered that there are three characteristics that we all experience:
Dukkha: dissatisfaction, dis-ease: the axle on the cart not fitting snugly into the wheel well.
Anicca: impermanence on every level.
Anatta: lack of an enduring, unchanging, inherent self.
Insights into these characteristics are the gateway to greater ease and freedom, and such insights are said to naturally arise and deepen as mindfulness, coupled with engaged interest, develops.
Traditionally dukkha is approached first. This is, after all, the heart of the matter in Buddhist psychology. The Buddha saw himself as a physician, intent on healing, supporting practitioners in investigating the causes of their suffering and discovering along the way the causes of happiness. In order to be free of dissatisfaction, we need to look more closely to see how we are cocreating it.