Question: When meditating and observing the in-and-out breath, eventually only the thought of observation remains, and the observation of the breath itself ceases. This state lasts for about an hour. Is this approach appropriate?
Answer: The observer is the perceiving-part (dṛṣṭi), the observed is the perceived-part (nimitta). Where there is an observer, there must be an object observed, and the result of this observation is called the self-confirming-part (svasaṃvitti). If the mind is engaged in observation but there is no breath, then another perceived-part exists; otherwise, one would have entered the second dhyāna.
The purpose of observing the breath is to gather the mind and fix it on a single point. Firstly, this achieves concentration (śamatha); secondly, it gives rise to the wisdom of insight (vipaśyanā), leading to the realization of Dharma. Therefore, if the observation lacks the breath yet is performed well, with the mind stable, it still achieves a certain purpose—there is nothing wrong with that. When concentration is strong, one can then redirect the mind back to observing the breath, continuing to observe it to realize that the breath is impermanent, subject to arising, cessation, and change—not self, not belonging to self.
Regardless of the type of concentration—whether worldly (external path) or Buddhist (internal path)—the principle is to gather the mind as precept. Simply utilize it. Once the mind is gathered, one then contemplates the Dharma within that concentration. There is nothing objectionable in this. The Buddha himself practiced the four dhyānas and eight samāpattis, which are worldly concentrations. Then, within the fourth dhyāna, he contemplated the Dharma and attained Anuttarā Samyak Sambodhi (unsurpassed perfect enlightenment). Without the four dhyānas and eight samāpattis shared with non-Buddhists, no Buddha could attain Buddhahood, and no ordinary being could realize Bodhi or become a Bodhisattva. It doesn’t matter if a cat is black or white, as long as it catches mice.
The purpose of cultivating concentration is to attain the wisdom of contemplation and insight (vipaśyanā-prajñā). With this wisdom, one can realize the Dharma and give rise to great wisdom. There is no need to be concerned about what kind of concentration it is or how it is achieved—simply achieving stability is good. It is always better than the monkey-mind of an ordinary being, which constantly grasps at objects. Set the goal firmly and move toward it. Do not worry about whether the path is by water or by land—as long as it is direct.
The physical body of a non-Buddhist and that of a Buddhist practitioner are the same. The mind of a Buddhist and that of a non-Buddhist are the same. If the aim is to subdue the mind, secular psychology and physiology are equally applicable to Buddhists. Taming the mind is what matters.
Cultivating concentration is for the sake of contemplation and insight, and contemplation and insight are for giving rise to wisdom. The arising of wisdom is not measured by an hour. If one can enter a thoughtless concentration (acittaka-samādhi) for an hour, devoid of conceptual thought, yet upon emerging, the body and mind feel refreshed and comfortable, with extraordinary sensations—throughout the day, the body is at ease, the mood is pleasant, afflictions do not arise, thinking is sharp, reactions are swift, interactions with people are wise, and one’s virtue, cultivation, and refinement improve—why not do it? Meditation is precisely for subduing body, mind, and the world, elevating character and cultivation—nurturing both the mind and the path. Why not do it?
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