The Five Hindrances
The five specific ways in which the mind strays from its object are called the five hindrances. Of the seemingly endless variety of kilesas, the hindrances represent the five major types. They are labeled “hindrances” because each of them has a particular power to obstruct and impede our practice.
As long as the mind is seduced by temptations of the senses, it cannot remain steadily observing a meditation object. Drawn away time and again, it will never travel that path of practice that leads beyond ordinary happiness. Thus, kāmacchanda, or sensual desire, is the first and greatest hindrance to our practice.
For an object to be distracting in an unpleasant way is another frequent occurrence. Upon contact with an unpleasant object, the mind fills with vyāpāda, aversion or anger. This too leads the mind away from the object, and so also away from the direction of true happiness.
At other times alertness and vigilance vanish. The mind becomes drowsy, unworkable and sluggish. Once again, it cannot stay with the object. This is called thīna middha, sloth and torpor. It is third on the list of hindrances.
Sometimes the mind becomes very frivolous and dissipated, flirting with one object and then another. This is called uddhacca kukkucca, restlessness and worry. The mind cannot stay one-pointed on its object but is scattered and dissipated, full of memories of past deeds, remorse and regret, worry and agitation.
The fifth and last major hindrance is vicikicchā, skeptical doubt and criticism. Surely you have experienced times when you have doubted yourself, the method of practice, or your teachers. You may compare this practice to others you have done or heard about, and you become completely paralyzed, like a traveler at a crossroads who, unsure of the right way, cannot decide which path to take.
The presence of hindrances means that rapture, comfort, one-pointedness of mind, right aim, and continuity are lacking. These five wholesome factors are the factors of the first jhāna; they are integral parts of successful vipassanā practice. Each jhānic factor is the antidote for a specific hindrance, and each hindrance is the enemy of a jhānic factor.
Concentration: The Antidote for Sense Desire
In this sensual world the hindrance of sense desire is chiefly responsible for keeping us in darkness. Concentration, one pointedness, is its antidote. When your mind is concentrated on the object of meditation, it does not attach itself to other thoughts, nor does it desire pleasant sights and sounds. Pleasurable objects lose their power over the mind. Dispersion and dissipation cannot occur.
Rapture: The Antidote for Aversion
As concentration takes the mind to more subtle levels, deep interest arises. Rapture and joy fill one’s being. This development frees the mind from the second hindrance, for anger cannot coexist with joy. Thus, the scriptures say that joy and rapture are the antidotes to anger.
Happiness or Comfort: The Antidote for Restlessness
Now, with meditation well developed, a great sense of comfort can begin to arise. The mind watches unpleasant sensations peacefully, without aversion. There is ease in the mind, even if the objects are difficult. Sometimes pain even disappears under the influence of mindfulness, leaving behind a sense of physical release. With this physical and mental comfort, the mind is content to remain with the object. It does not fly about. Comfort is the antidote for restlessness and anxiety.
Aim: The Antidote for Sloth and Torpor
The jhānic factor of vitakka or aim has the specific power to open and refresh the mind. It makes the mind alive and open. Thus, when the mind is continually and diligently trying to be accurate in aiming at the object, sloth and torpor do not arise. A mind attacked by drowsiness is a mind that has been constricted and withered. Vitakka is the antidote to thīna middha.
Continuous Attention or Rubbing: The Antidote for Doubt
If aim is good, it follows that the mind will hit its target of observation. This impinging or rubbing against the object is the jhānic factor of vicāra, which has the function of continuity, keeping the mind stuck to its object of observation. Continuous attention is the opposite of doubt, for doubt is indecision. The doubting mind cannot fix itself on any particular object; instead it runs here and there considering possibilities. Obviously, when vicāra is present the mind cannot slip from the object and behave in this manner.
Immature wisdom also contributes to the spreading of doubt. Without a certain depth and maturity of practice, it is obvious that very profound Dhamma will be obscure to us. Beginning yogis may wonder about things they have heard about but never experienced. But the more they try to think such things through, the less they will understand. Frustration and continued thinking eventually lead to criticism. For this vicious cycle continuous attention is again the antidote. A mind firmly stuck to its object uses all its power to observe; it does not generate critical thoughts.
COMPREHENDING THE NATURE OF THIS WORLD
When you can keep your attention on the rising and falling from the very beginning of its occurrence to the very end, developing that penetrative, accurate mindfulness from moment to moment in an unbroken and continuous manner, then you may come to notice that you can see clearly with your mind’s eye the entire rising process. From its beginning, through the middle, to the end, there is not a single gap. The experience is utterly clear to you.
You now begin to move through the progression of insights that is only available through vipassanā meditation, direct observation of mind and body. First you make the subtle distinction between the mental and physical elements constituting the rising and falling processes. Sensations are material objects, distinct from the consciousness that perceives them. As you observe more carefully, you begin to see how mind and matter are mutually connected, causally linked. An intention in the mind causes the appearance of a series of physical objects constituting a movement. Your mind starts to appreciate how mind and matter come into being and disappear. The fact of arising and vanishing comes into crystal focus. It becomes obvious that all objects in your field of consciousness have the nature to come and go. Sounds begin and then they end. Sensations in the body arise and then dissolve. Nothing lasts.
At this point in practice, there begins to be a strong presence of all five factors of the first jhāna, discussed above. Aiming and impinging, vitakka and vicāra, have strengthened. Concentration, rapture, and comfort join them. The first vipassanā jhāna is said to be complete, and vipassanānana, or vipassanā insight knowledge, can begin to arise.
Vipassanā insight knowledge is concerned specifically with the three general characteristics of conditioned phenomena: anicca (pronounced “anicha”), or impermanence; dukkha (pronounced duke-ka), unsatisfactoriness or suffering; and anattā, or absence of an abiding self.
Anicca: Impermanence
As you watch objects come and go, you will begin to appreciate their momentary nature, their impermanence. This knowledge of anicca is direct, firsthand; you feel its truth anywhere you place your attention. During the moment your mind is in contact with the object, you see clearly how the object dissolves. A great sense of satisfaction arises. You feel a deep interest in your meditation, and rejoice at having discovered this fact and truth about the universe.
Even simple and general observation tells us that the whole body is anicca, or impermanent. Therefore the term anicca refers to the whole body. Looking closer, we see that all phenomena that occur at the six sense doors are anicca; they are impermanent things. We can also understand anicca to mean all the impermanent things comprising mind and matter, mental and physical phenomena. There is no object we can find in this conditioned world that is not anicca.
The fact of arising and falling away is anicca lakkhaa, the characteristic or sign of impermanence. It is precisely in the arising and passing that anicca can be recognized. Aniccā·nupassanā·ñāa is the intuitive comprehension that realizes the fact of impermanence; it occurs in the very moment of noting a particular object and watching it dissolve. It is important to make this point, th
at anicca.nupassanā.ñāa only can occur in the precise moment when one sees the passing away of a phenomenon. In the absence of such immediate seeing, then, it is impossible to understand impermanence.
Would one be justified in saying that one has had an insight into impermanence through reading about the impermanent state of things? Can one say an insight has occurred at the moment when one’s teacher says that all things pass away? Or can one deeply understand impermanence through deductive or inductive reasoning? The answer to these questions is a firm “No.” True insight only occurs in the presence of a nonthinking, bare awareness of the passing away of phenomena in the present moment.
Say you are watching the rising and falling of the abdomen. In the moment of rising, you may be aware of tautness, tenseness, expansion, and movement. If you can follow the rising process from beginning to end, and the ending of these sensations is clear to you, it is possible for anicca·nupassanā·ñāa to occur. All sensations that can be felt at the abdomen or anywhere else are anicca, impermanent things. Their characteristics, of having appeared at the beginning of the rising process and having disappeared at the end, constitute anicca lakkhaa. The realization that they are impermanent can only occur in a moment when one is observing their disappearance.
Impermanence is not confined to one’s abdomen. Everything that occurs in seeing, hearing, smelling, tasting, thinking, touching—all the sensations of the body, heat and cold and hardness and pain—and all of one’s miscellaneous activities—bending, turning, reaching out, walking—all these things are impermanent. If you can see the vanishing of any of these objects, you will be involved in anicca·nupassanā·ñāa. You will lose the illusion of permanence. Māna, or conceit, also will be absent. In fact, during times when you are mindfully aware of impermanence, your general level of conceit will progressively diminish.
Dukkha: Suffering or Unsatisfactoriness
The second characteristic of conditioned reality is dukkha, suffering or unsatisfactoriness. It can be discussed under the same three categories: dukkha, dukkha lakkhaa, and dukkhā.nupassanā.ñāa.
During your observation of anicca, very naturally the factor of suffering will also become apparent. As phenomena arise and pass, you will realize that nothing is dependable and there is nothing fixed to cling to. Everything is in flux, and this is unsatisfactory. Phenomena provide no refuge. Dukkha itself is actually a kind of synonym for impermanence, referring to all impermanent things. Whatever is impermanent also is suffering.
At this point of development in meditation practice, painful sensations can become very interesting. One can observe them for some time without reacting. One sees that they are not solid at all; they do not actually last more than the briefest instant. The illusion of continuity begins to crumble. A pain in the back: one sees fiery heat transform itself into pressure, and then into throbbing. The throbbing changes its texture, its shape, and intensity moment by moment. Finally, a climax occurs. The mind is able to see the breakup and disintegration of that pain. Pain vanishes from the field of consciousness.
Conquering the pain, one is filled with joy and exhilaration. The body feels cool, calm, comfortable, yet one is not deluded into thinking that suffering has been abolished. The unsatisfying nature of sensations becomes ever more clear. One begins to see this body as a mass of painful and unsatisfactory phenomena, dancing without respite to impermanence’s tune.
The characteristic of dukkha, or dukkha lakkhaa, is oppression by impermanence. Precisely because all objects arise and pass away from moment to moment, we live in a highly oppressive situation. Once arising has occurred, there is no way to prevent passing away.
Dukkhā·nupassanā·ñāa, the insight that comprehends suffering, also occurs at the moment when one is contemplating the passing away of phenomena, but it has a different flavor from anicca·nupassanā·ñāa. One is suddenly seized by a great realization that none of these objects is dependable. There is no refuge in them; they are fearsome things.
Again it is important to understand that the appreciation of suffering we gain through reading books, or through our own reasoning and reflection, does not constitute the real thing. Dukkhā·nupassanā·ñāa only occurs when the mind is present with bare awareness, watching the arising and passing away of phenomena, and understanding that their impermanence is fearful, fearsome, undesirable, and bad.
The true realization that suffering is inherent in all phenomena can be very powerful. It eliminates the deluded view that these things are pleasurable. When such an illusion vanishes, craving cannot arise.
Anattā: The Absence of Self
Automatically now, one appreciates anattā, that no one is behind these processes. Moment to moment, phenomena occur; this is a natural process with which one is not identified. This wisdom relating to the absence of self in things, anattā·nupassanā·ñāa, also is based on two preceding aspects, anattā itself and anattā lakkhaa.
Anattā refers to all impermanent phenomena that possess no self-essence—in other words, every single element of mind and matter. The only difference from anicca and dukkha is that a different aspect is being highlighted.
The characteristic of anattā, anattā lakkhaa, is seeing that an object does not arise or pass according to one’s wishes. All the mental and physical phenomena that occur in us come and go of their own accord, responding to their own natural laws. Their occurrence is beyond our control.
We can see this in a general way by observing the weather. At times it is extremely hot, at other times freezing cold. At times it is wet, at other times dry. Some climates are fickle, such that one does not know what will happen next. In no climate can one adjust the temperature to suit one’s comfort Weather is subject to its own natural laws, just like the elements that constitute our minds and bodies. When we fall ill, suffer, and eventually die, are these processes not contrary to our wishes?
While conscientiously watching all the mental and physical phenomena arising and passing away within, one may be struck by the fact that no one is in control of the process. Such an insight comes quite naturally. It is not affected or manipulated in any way. Nor does it come from reflection. It simply occurs when one is present, observing the passing away of phenomena. This is called anattā·nupassanā·ñāa.
When one is unable to see the momentary arising and passing away of phenomena, one is easily misled to think that there is a self, an individual unchanging entity behind the process of body and mind. With clear awareness, this false view is momentarily eliminated.
Verified Knowledge by Comprehension: The Fulfillment of the First Vipassanā Jhāna
When awareness is clear, especially when the passing away of things is noticeable, one can appreciate intuitively the characteristics of impermanence, of suffering, or of absence of self that are inherent in all phenomena. The intuitive understanding of all three of these characteristics is included in a particular stage of insight, sammasana·ñāa, meaning the insight that arises out of verification. Often this term is translated as “verified knowledge by comprehension.” One comprehends or verifies the three characteristics through a personal experience of seeing the disappearance of phenomena.
Though it is very commonly used, the word “insight” may not be an appropriate translation of the Pāli word vipassanā. The word vipassanā has two parts, vi and passana. Vi refers to various modes, and passana is seeing. Thus, one meaning of vipassanā is “seeing through various modes.”
These various modes, of course, are those of impermanence, suffering, and absence of self. A more complete translation of vipassanā now becomes “Seeing through the modes of impermanence, suffering, and absence of self.”
Another synonym for vipassanānana is paccakkha·ñāa. Paccakkha here refers to direct experiential perception. Because true vipassanānana only arises when one is mindful, because it occurs intuitively rather than from reasoning, it is called a direct experiential insight, paccakkha·ñāa.
As vipassanānana recurs in one’s practice, the m
ind is led into a natural and spontaneous reflection that impermanence, suffering, and nonselfness are not only manifest in the present situation. One realizes by deduction that these three qualities have also manifested throughout the past and will continue to prevail in the future. Other beings and objects are constituted of the same elements as oneself, all impermanent, unsatisfactory, and empty of self-nature. This reflection is called deductive knowledge, and it is a further aspect of the jhānic factors of vitakka and vicāra, manifesting in this case on the thinking level.
At this stage the first vipassanā jhāna is considered to be fully developed, and the stage of practice called “verified knowledge by comprehension,” sammasana·ñāa, is fulfilled. One has a deep and clear appreciation of the three general characteristics of conditioned phenomena: anicca, dukkha, and anattā. One has reached the deductive conclusion that in this world there never has been, nor will there ever be, a situation that is not pervaded by these three aspects.
Deduction and reflection tend to be present in the first vipassanā jhāna. They are harmless unless they begin to take over one’s mind. Especially in the case of a person who is highly intellectual, who has a vivid imagination or is philosophically bent, too much reflection can get in the way of personal and direct experience. It can actually put a stop to insight.
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