The Benefits of Meditative Concentration (Dhyāna)

Question: When sitting in meditation observing the breath coming in and going out, eventually only the thought of observing remains, without observing the breath, and I entered concentration for about an hour. Is this proper?

Answer: The observing is the perceiving-aspect; the observed is the object-aspect. As long as there is an observer, there is something observed, and the result of observing is called self-cognition (svasaṃvitti). If there is observation in the mind but no breath, then some other object-aspect exists; otherwise, one has entered the concentration of the second dhyāna.

The purpose of observing the breath is to gather the mind, to settle the mind on one object—first to attain concentration, and second to give rise to the wisdom of contemplation, so as to realize the Dharma. So if there is no breath in the observation, yet the observation is very good and the mind is very settled, a certain goal has already been achieved, and there is nothing wrong with that. When the power of concentration is very good, you can then move the mind back to observing the breath, continuing to observe the breath, so as to realize that the breath arises, ceases, changes, and is impermanent—it is not self and not belonging to self.

Whatever kind of meditative concentration it is—whether a non-Buddhist concentration or a Buddhist one—gathering the mind is the precept; just take it and use it. Once the mind is gathered, then within concentration engage in contemplative practice (vipaśyanā-caryā) of the Buddha's Dharma, and there is nothing blameworthy in this. The four dhyānas and eight concentrations that the Buddha cultivated were non-Buddhist concentrations, and then within the fourth dhyāna he contemplated the Buddha's Dharma and attained anuttara-samyak-saṃbodhi. Without the four dhyānas and eight concentrations shared with non-Buddhists, no buddha could become a buddha, and ordinary beings could not realize bodhi and become bodhisattvas. It doesn't matter whether the cat is black or white; as long as it catches the mouse, it is a good cat.

Cultivating concentration is for the sake of the wisdom of contemplative practice; with the wisdom of contemplative practice, one can realize the Buddha's Dharma and give rise to great wisdom. There is no need to care about what kind of concentration or how to concentrate—once the mind is settled, that is good. It is always better than the ordinary person's monkey mind that grasps at objects everywhere. Set your goal and head toward it; there is no need to care whether you go by water, land, or the dry route—as long as it is a direct route, that is fine.

The physical body of a non-Buddhist and the physical body of a Buddhist are the same; the mind of a Buddhist and the mind of a non-Buddhist who does not study Buddhism are the same. If the aim is to subdue the mind, then worldly psychology and physiology apply equally to Buddhists. Taming the mind is what matters.

Cultivating concentration is for the sake of contemplative practice, and contemplative practice is for the sake of giving rise to wisdom. And giving rise to wisdom does not depend on the duration of an hour. If you can enter a mindless concentration for an hour, without deliberation, yet after emerging from concentration the body and mind feel refreshed and the experience is extraordinary—throughout the day the body feels comfortable, the mood is pleasant, afflictions do not arise, thinking is sharp, reactions are quick, and in dealing with people and affairs you show wisdom, as well as cultivation and refinement, with improved character—why not delight in it? Meditative concentration is precisely for taming the body, mind, and world, for elevating one's character and cultivation; it both nourishes the mind and nourishes the Path—why not delight in it?