On Not Having a Definite MetaNarrative

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Individuals growing up in traditional religious structures find themselves within a MetaNarrative. They are given a way of understanding the world which has been life-giving, or at least functional, for millions of people for thousands of years. A MetaNarrative gives one a structure of values and a structure of meaning within which to understand their life.

Some version of the traditional Christian MetaNarrative was my working understanding of the world for many years. I was made in the image of God, but fallen and sinful. I needed redemption by the work of Christ. When I accepted Christ’s sacrifice, my mission was to spread the Gospel and live for God to the best of my abilities through the power of the Holy Spirit. Life had eternal meaning, because, in the end, I (and others) would attain everlasting life. My values were rooted in Scripture and my action in the world had felt meaning.

I no longer find myself within that Narrative and losing it was a complete upending of my entire understanding of life.

Many young people today, especially those growing up in multi-cultural communities, are either never given a religious MetaNarrative, or find their tradition unconvincing in an absolute sense. We live in cities and rub elbows with people from an astounding variety of cultural and religious backgrounds, each with their own understandings of the world. If any one of these traditions is correct in some absolute sense, it’s hard to know which one. Scientific materialism, mixed with religious and cultural relativism, seems to underly much of modern thought.

And so we float. We do the best we can, because life keeps coming whether you have it all figured out or not. Many adopt some form of agnosticism about questions of Ultimate Meaning.

One can adopt a meditative path without strictly committing to a MetaNarrative or framework of thought. One can “taste and see” – by their direct experience – whether a spiritual path they have chosen is life-giving. One can make ethical decisions, live in a certain way, adopt a meditative practice, and see if it leads to greater real happiness for themselves and others.

For me, it helps to have a tentative understanding of what I am trying to achieve. A tentative understanding of the world and how I understand my practice. I still think in Theistic terms. I think about things like forming my soul toward the Good, the True, and the Beautiful and then handing it back to God. I think about developing Purity of Heart. I think about seeking and opening myself to a transformation that comes from God, the Source, the Absolute.

But I don’t know. Other metaphors and other images, perhaps from completely different systems of thought, might also strike me as helpful along the way.

A plant grows toward the sun because it has to or it will wither and die. Maybe we can just be plants growing toward the Sun, even if we don’t understand it all.

The Simile of The Mountain

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At Savatthi.

King Pasenadi of Kosala sat to one side, and the Buddha said to him, “So, great king, where are you coming from in the middle of the day?”

“Sir, there are anointed aristocratic kings who are infatuated with authority, and obsessed with greed for sensual pleasures. They have attained stability in the country, occupying a vast conquered territory. Today I have been busy fulfilling the duties of such kings.”

“What do you think, great king? Suppose a trustworthy and reliable man were to come from the east. He’d approach you and say: ‘Please sir, you should know this. I come from the east. There I saw a huge mountain that reached the clouds. And it was coming this way, crushing all creatures. So then, great king, do what you must!’

Then a second trustworthy and reliable man were to come from the west… a third from the north… and a fourth from the south. He’d approach you and say: ‘Please sir, you should know this. I come from the south. There I saw a huge mountain that reached the clouds. And it was coming this way, crushing all creatures. So then, great king, do what you must!’

Should such a dire threat airse – a terrible loss of human life, when human birth is so rare – what would you do?”

“Sir, what could I do but practice the teachings, practice morality, doing skillful and good actions?”

“I tell you, great king, I announce to you: old age and death are advancing upon you. Since old age and death are advancing upon you, what would you do?”

“Sir, what can I do but practice the teachings, practice morality, doing skillful and good actions?”…

– Pabbatopama Sutta, Samyutta Nikaya 3.25

Reflections on the Theravada Tradition | Personal Takeaways

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I don’t consider myself a Theravada Buddhist. Of the eastern traditions, I tend to resonate more with what might be considered “freer-flowing” frames of thought such as Vedanta or even other forms of Buddhist practice such as Zen/Zazen and Dzogchen. Specifically, in regards to meditative practice and seeking a direct experience of the Absolute, I believe that there is something which must be done in us, something which we can open ourselves to, but are not in control of. In the terms of Vedanta, “In the still mind, in the depths of meditation, the Self reveals itself” (Bhagavad Gita 6:20). Most spiritual traditions tend to emphasize this passivity or dependence, while the Theravada tradition, at least explicitly, does not. I also continue to resonate more with traditions which have a more balanced view of the world in contrast to Theravada’s emphasis on Experience as Dukkha.

But there is much from the Theravda tradition which has stuck with me. And what I consider to be a weakness (extreme emphasis on our own ability to develop ourselves toward Nibbana), in some respects can also be seen as a strength. The following are some elements of Theravada which have been helpful for me on my own journey.


The Noble Eightfold Path as a helpful grid through which to think about the spiritual life and the development of the self. I don’t see the Noble Eightfold Path as some kind of absolute system of spirituality. I just don’t think you can systematize the spiritual life (however one thinks about that concept) or meditative experience as much as the Theravada tradition seems to try to do. Nevertheless, it is helpful to have a grid. It is helpful to have categories through which to think about our own personal development. Specifically regarding ethics, even just having the broad categories of Right Speech and Right Action in one’s head feels beneficial as one navigates life. Is my piece of this conversation Right Speech? Is this activity I’m engaging in Right Action? Is it leading to greater contentment, happiness, and peace for myself and those around me? It seems to me that the presence of the categories themselves is a strength of the Theravada path. At a minimum, the Noble Eightfold Path has been a useful tool for millions of spiritual seekers since the time of Siddhartha. I find myself spontaneously thinking about various categories from the Path as I live my life and it has been edifying to have been exposed to this broad grid. There is a sense that it has sunk into me and I am thankful for that.

Right Speech. I probably think about Right Speech more than any other element of the Path. I want my speech to be helpful and edifying. I want my speech to lead to unity within my communities. I want my speech to serve a purpose. I often think about my work context. At work, daily chit chat among colleagues is edifying. It connects people. It helps us share life. But sometimes there also comes a point where it feels like we are just talking to talk. Talking to fill the silence. At that point I think it’s best to stop. Maybe if our speech is natural and comfortable, then our silence will be natural and comfortable as well. I feel the same way about engaging with the radio, tv, and podcasts. Sometimes I’m listening or watching to actually learn something. Sometimes it’s edifying. And sometimes, we really do just need to relax and be entertained. But there is also a time to cut all the noise. It’s endless. At some point it just becomes infinite undigested clutter in our head. I guess maybe you could call that Right Listening, Right Watching, or Right Silence.

Right Intention | Metta. The concept of Right Intention, specifically the intention of Good-Will toward all life, has also been helpful for me, especially when dealing with anger. If I am angry with someone, and I am in the right mindset, I will try to “pray a Metta” for them. It helps me let go of my anger and continue to attempt the cultivation of an honest wish for the well-being of all people and all life. I was a vegetarian before studying Theravada and thinking about Right Intention has led me further down that path. It seems to me that there is something about meditative practice which naturally leads one to see themselves in the other, both human and non-human. We all have the same light on. It feels like part of my own development to respect that light in all things.

Right Effort. Right Effort for me represents the ethos of the Theravada meditation tradition and the Theravada Path in general. It has the vibe of an As a Man Thinketh. It is about willfully forming oneself toward the Good. In the practice of Right Effort, one, in the midst of daily living, strives to: 1. prevent the arising of unwholesome states, 2. abandon unwholesome states which have arisen, 3. arouse wholesome states which have not yet arisen, and 4. maintain and perfect wholesome states which have already arisen. Broadly, Right Effort entails being aware of your thoughts and cultivating wholesome or skillful thoughts while abandoning unwholesome or unskillful thoughts. I need to hear this. I need to hear that I am in charge of developing my own character. I am in charge of letting anger go. I am in charge of abandoning unhealthy selfishness. I am in charge of being present in the moment to serve people. I need to take personal responsibility for my own mental state. Right Effort helps me by reminding me of this responsibility. Even if I think the Theravada meditative tradition could be more balanced by interpreting Arising along the lines of how Grace is understood in other traditions, and placing at least some emphasis on our dependence on something outside of ourselves, it is still a strength of the tradition that is reminds us we must form ourselves. For me, it’s “Both/And.” I need to consciously form myself, and I feel the need or dependence to open myself to a formation which comes from beyond myself.

The Middle Way. Not too much asceticism, not too much comfort. Not too little food, not too much food. Not too little sleep, not too much sleep. Not too little social involvement, not too much social involvement. The concept of the Middle Way brings to mind a passage from The Cloud of Unknowing:

“Now if you ask me what sort of moderation you should observe in the contemplative work, I will tell you: none at all. In everything else, such as eating, drinking, and sleeping, moderation is the rule. Avoid extremes of heat and cold; guard against too much and too little in reading, prayer, or social involvement. In all these things, I say again, keep to the middle path. But in love [the contemplative work] take no measure. Indeed, I wish that you had never to cease from the work of love… Perhaps by now you are wondering how to determine the proper mean in eating, drinking, sleeping, and the rest. I will answer you briefly: be content with what comes along. If you give yourself generously to the work of love, I feel sure you will know when to begin and end every other activity. I cannot believe that a person wholeheartedly given to contemplation will err by excess or default in these external matters…”


Maybe, if we are consistent with our practice, all of life – including how to engage with tools such as the Eightfold Path – will be natural.

Reflections on the Theravada Tradition | Am I Developing Sati When I Practice Centering Prayer?

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I sometimes think of the Theravada concept of Sati as an “extra layer” of consciousness or awareness. It’s the difference between being a thought and understanding that you are experiencing a thought. Being angry vs. experiencing anger. The difference seems to be that you do not feel completely identified with a mental state. There is a distance between “you” and what you are experiencing.

The Theravada tradition distinguishes between two primary forms of meditation. In one of the primary forms – Mindfulness Meditation – one explicitly works on the development of Sati/Mindfulness. In the other primary form – Jhana Meditation – one develops the skill of concentration.

Not all Buddhist meditative traditions recognize this distinction in meditative practice. For instance, Zen meditative practice is typically much more simplified. Just sit and follow your breath. Or even “just sit.” Let whatever unfolds unfold.

I believe that during my practice of Centering Prayer, I am also developing Sati. When I sit, recognize that I am lost in thought, and then use my prayer word/mantra to release the thought to return to an “openness to God” – it seems that I am, as a byproduct, developing Sati. I am recognizing thoughts as thoughts. I am recognizing thought patterns and emotions as thought patterns and emotions. The difference between Centering Prayer and Mindfulness Meditation is that, during Centering Prayer, my primary aim is not to develop Sati. But I believe it “just happens,” as a byproduct.

Reflections on the Theravada Tradition | Practicality of the Path Toward the Development of a Soul

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One of the strengths of the Theravada tradition is the practicality of the Eightfold Path. You are given a concrete list of instructions for how to form your soul.

You want to experience less interpersonal suffering? Speak in a way that is kind, gentle, and brings unity.

You want to be at peace about how you earn your living in this world? Don’t profit off of what hurts other beings.

You want to harbor less anger? Develop the intention of lovingkindness toward all life.

Whether or not one thinks the Eightfold Path is the way to end suffering or some kind of absolute spiritual path, it at least provides a concrete, practical framework for how to develop yourself toward the Good. Following it can lead to less suffering, in practical ways.

Reflections on the Theravada Tradition | Nibbana and Other Experiences of the Absolute

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“He turns his mind away from those states and directs it towards the deathless element thus: ‘This is the peaceful, this is the sublime, that is, the stilling of all formations, the relinquishing of all attachments, the destruction of craving, dispassion, cessation, Nibbana.’”

– Siddhartha Gautama, Majjhima Nikaya 64



“There is, monks, an unborn, unbecome, unmade, unconditioned.  If, monks, there were no unborn, unbecome, unmade, unconditioned, no escape would be possible from what is born, become, made, conditioned.  But since there is an unborn, unbecome, unmade, unconditioned, therefore an escape is possible from the born, become, made, conditioned.”


– Siddhartha Gautama, Udana 8:3


"Those who aspire to the state of yoga should seek the Self in inner solitude through meditation. With body and mind controlled they should constantly practice one-pointedness, free from expectations and attachment to material possessions. Select a clean spot, neither too high nor too low, and seat yourself firmly on a cloth, a deerskin, and kusha grass. Then, once seated, strive to still your thoughts. Make your mind one-pointed in meditation, and your heart will be purified. Hold your body, head, and neck firmly in a straight line, and keep your eyes from wandering. With all fears dissolved in the peace of the Self and all desires dedicated to Brahman, controlling the mind and fixing it on me, sit in meditation with me as your only goal. With senses and mind constantly controlled through meditation, united with the Self within, an aspirant attains nirvana, the state of abiding joy and peace in me. Arjuna, those who eat too much or eat too little, who sleep too much or sleep too little, will not succeed in meditation. But those who are temperate in eating and sleeping, work and recreation, will come to the end of sorrow through meditation. Through constant effort they learn to withdraw the mind from selfish cravings and absorb it in the Self. Thus they attain the state of union. When meditation is mastered, the mind is unwavering like the flame of a lamp in a windless place. In the still mind, in the depths of meditation, the Self reveals itself. Beholding the Self by means of the Self, an aspirant knows the joy and peace of complete fulfillment. Having attained that abiding joy beyond the senses, revealed in the stilled mind, he never swerves from eternal truth. He desires nothing else, and cannot be shaken by the heaviest burden of sorrow. The practice of meditation frees one from all affliction. This is the path of yoga. Follow it with determination and sustained enthusiasm. Renouncing wholeheartedly all selfish desires and expectations, use your will to control the senses. Little by little, through patience and repeated effort, the mind will become stilled in the Self. Wherever the mind wanders, restless and diffuse in its search for satisfaction without, lead it within; train it to rest in the Self. Abiding joy comes to those who still the mind. Freeing themselves from the taint of self-will, with their consciousness unified, they become one with Brahman.”

– The Bhagavad Gita 6:10-27


“…in that unitive state all desires find their perfect fulfillment.  There is no other desire that needs to be fulfilled, and one goes beyond sorrow…where there is unity, one without a second, that is the world of Brahman.”

– Brihadaranyaka Upanishad



“To study the nature of this experience is rather a difficult matter. All that one can hope to do is to set down a few general impressions. It is a type of experience which is not clearly differentiated into a subject-object state, an integral, undivided consciousness in which not merely this or that side of man’s nature but his whole being seems to find itself. It is a condition of consciousness in which feelings are fused, ideas melt into one another, boundaries broken and ordinary distinctions transcended. Past and present fade away in a sense of timeless being. Consciousness and being are not there different from each other. All being is consciousness and all consciousness being. Thought and reality coalesce and a creative merging of subject and object results. Life grows conscious of its incredible depths. In this fulness of felt life and freedom, the distinction of the knower and the known disappears. The privacy of the individual self is broken into an invaded by a universal self which the individual feels as his own. The experience itself is felt to be sufficient and complete. It does not come in a fragmentary or truncated form demanding completion by something else. It does not look beyond itself for meaning or validity. It does not appeal to external standards of logic or metaphysics. It is its own cause and explanation. It is sovereign in its own rights and carries its own credentials. It is self-established (svatahsiddha), self-evidencing (svasamvedya), self-luminous (svayamprakasa). It does not argue or explain but it knows and is.”

– Sarvepalli Radhakrishnan, An Idealist View of Life




“Yoga is the stilling of the changing states of the mind.  When that is accomplished, the seer abides in its own true nature.”

– Patanjali, The Yoga Sutras of Patanjali



"According to Patanjali's definition in the second sutra, yoga is the cessation of the activities or permutations (vrttis) of the citta. The vrttis refer to any sequence of thought, ideas, mental imaging, or cognitive act performed by the mind, intellect, or ego as defined above – in short, any state of mind whatsoever. It cannot be overstressed that the mind is merely a physical substance that selects, organizes, analyzes, and molds itself into the physical forms of sense data presented to it; in and of itself it is not aware of them. Sense impressions or thoughts are imprints in that mental substance, just as a clay pot is a product made from the substance of clay, or waves are permutations of the sea. The essential point for understanding yoga is that all forms or activities of the mind are products of prakrti, matter, and completely distinct from the soul or true self, purusa, pure awareness or consciousness. The citta can profitably be compared to the software, and the body to the hardware. Neither is conscious; they are rather forms of gross matter, even as the former can do very intelligent activities. Both software and hardware are useless without the presence of a conscious observer. Only purusa is truly alive, that is, aware or conscious. When uncoupled from the mind, the soul, purusa, in its pure state, that is, in its own constitutional, autonomous condition – untainted by being misidentified with the physical coverings of the body and mind – is free of content and changeless; it does not constantly ramble and flit from one thing to another the way the mind does. To realize pure awareness as an entity distinct and autonomous from the mind (and, of course, the body), thought must be stilled and consciousness extracted from its embroilment with the mind and its incessant thinking nature. Only then can the soul be realized as an entity completely distinct from the mind (a distinction such cliches as "self-realization" attempt to express), and the process to achieve this realization is yoga... Through grace or the sheer power of concentration, the mind can attain an inactive state where all thoughts remain only in potential but not active form. In other words, through meditation one can cultivate an inactive state of mind where one is not cognizant of anything. This does not mean to say that consciousness becomes extinguished, Patanjali hastens to inform us (as does the entire Upanishadic/Vedantic tradition); consciousness is eternal and absolute. Therefore, once there are no more thoughts or objects on its horizons or sphere of awareness, consciousness has no alternative but to become conscious of itself. In other words, consciousness can either be object-aware or subject aware (loosely speaking). The point is that it has no option in terms of being aware on some level, since awareness is eternal and inextinguishable. By stilling thought, meditation removes all objects of awareness. Awareness can therefore now be aware only of itself. It can now bypass or transcend all objects of thought, disassociate from even the pure sattvic citta, and become aware of its own source, the actual soul itself, purusa. This is self-realization (to use a neo-Vedantic term), the ultimate state of awareness, the state of consciousness in which nothing can be discerned except the pure self, asamprajnata-samadhi. This is the final goal of yoga and thus of human existence."

– Edwin Bryant, Commentary on The Yoga Sutras of Patanjali liii-lvii



“Stop searching for phrases and chasing after words.  Take the backward step and turn the light inward.  Your body-mind of itself will drop away and your original face will appear.  If you want to attain just this, immediately practice just this.”

– Dogen, Recommeding Zazen to All People




“The uniqueness of zazen lies in this: that the mind is freed from bondage to all thought-forms, visions, objects, and imaginings, however sacred or elevating, and brought to a state of absolute emptiness, from which alone it may one day perceive its own true nature...”

– Philip Kapleau, The Three Pillars of Zen




“In Zen training we seek to extinguish the self-centered, individual ego, but we do not try to do this merely by thinking about it.  It is with our own body and mind that we actually experience what we call ‘pure existence.’ The basic kind of Zen practice is called zazen (sitting Zen), and in zazen we attain samadhi.  In this state the activity of consciousness is stopped and we cease to be aware of time, space, and causation.  The mode of existence which thus makes its appearance may at first sight seem to be nothing more than mere being, or existence.  However, if you really attain this state you will find it to be a remarkable thing.  At the extremity of having denied all and having nothing left to deny, we reach a state in which absolute silence and stillness reign, bathed in a pure, serene light.  Buddhists of former times called this state annihilation, or Nirvana...”

– Katsuki Sekida, Zen Training




“...with enlightenment, zazen brings the realization that the substratum of existence is a Voidness out of which all things ceaselessly arise and into which they endlessly return, that this Emptiness is positive and alive and in fact not other than the vividness of a sunset or the harmonies of a great symphony.  This bursting into consciousness of the effulgent Buddha-nature is the ‘swallowing up’ of the universe, the obliteration of every feeling of opposition and separateness.  In this state of unconditioned subjectivity I, selfless I, am supreme.”

– Philip Kapleau, The Three Pillars of Zen


“...let us remind ourselves that another, metaphysical, consciousness is still available to modern man.  It starts not from the thinking and self-aware subject but from Being, ontologically seen to be beyond and prior to the subject-object division.  Underlying the subjective experience of the individual self there is an immediate experience of Being… It has in it none of the split and alienation that occurs when the subject becomes aware of itself as quasi-object.  The consciousness of Being is an immediate experience that goes beyond reflexive awareness.  It is not ‘consciousness of’ but pure consciousness, in which the subject as such disappears.  Posterior to this immediate experience of a ground which transcends experience emerges the subject with its self-awareness.”

– Thomas Merton, Zen and the Birds of Appetite




“We are each like a well that has a source in a common underground stream which supplies all.  The deeper down I go, the closer I come to the source which puts me in contact with all other life.”

– John Welch, Spiritual Pilgrims




“As for the prayer of the heart, it is associated in Sufism with dhikr, or invocation of God’s Names.  This quintessential form of prayer begins with invocation of the tongue, then with the mind and with our imaginal faculty, and finally with and in the heart, where the Divine Spark has always resided… The dhikr is in the final analysis the act of God Himself within us.  In reality only God can utter His Name, and in the dhikr we become simply the instrument through which God utters His own sacred Name… In ordinary prayer men and women address God in an I-Thou relationship.  In the prayer that is intertwined with love, the I and the Thou melt into each other.  In contemplative prayer, the inner intellect or spirit, which is itself a Divine Spark to which Meister Eckhart refers when he says that there is in the soul something uncreated and uncreatable…is able to transcend the I-Thou dichotomy altogether.  This faculty is able to plunge into the Supreme Reality and, in drowning in the Ocean of Divinity, to know it.  It is to these realities that Plotinus was referring when he spoke of the flight of the alone to the Alone…As human beings, we have the ability to reach the state of extinction and annihilation and yet have consciousness that we are nothing in ourselves and that all being belongs to God.  We can reach a state of unitive consciousness prior to bifurcation into object and subject.”

– Seyyed Hossein Nasr, The Garden of Truth



“This is fana: that a man be extinguished from himself.”

– Ibn Ata Allah Al-Iskandari, The Key to Salvation and the Lamp of Souls



“…here it is like rain falling from the heavens into a river or a spring; there is nothing but water there and it is impossible to divide or separate the water belonging to the river from that which fell from the heavens. Or it is as if a tiny streamlet enters the sea, from which it will find no way of separating itself, or as if in a room there were two large windows through which the light streamed in: it enters in different places but all becomes one.”

– St. Theresa of Avila, Interior Castle



“When individuals have finished purifying and voiding themselves of all forms and apprehensible images, they will abide in this pure and simple light and be perfectly transformed in it.”

– St. John of the Cross, The Ascent of Mount Carmel, Book 2 15:4




“A book on Contemplation called The Cloud of Unknowing, which is about that cloud within which one is united to God.”

– Anonymous, The Cloud of Unknowing (Title)


I think we’re all talking about the same thing.

Reflections on the Theravada Tradition | Arising as Grace?

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There’s not a lot of Grace in the Theravada tradition. By and large, the conception of the spiritual journey from a Theravada perspective is about taking personal responsibility to form oneself in ways which lead to Peace, Enlightenment, Nibbana. Similar to the tradition’s concept of Dukkha, I find the extreme emphasis on personally willing and causing our own formation to be somewhat one-sided. I think we also need Grace.

In the theistic contemplative traditions, the place of Grace is obvious. One is responsible for their own moral development, but also must open themselves to a transformation which can ultimately come only from God.


"Then why is this work so toilsome? The labor, of course, is in the unrelenting struggle to banish the countless distracting thoughts that plague our minds and to restrain them beneath that cloud of forgetting which I spoke of earlier. This is the suffering. All the struggle is on man’s side in the effort he must make to prepare himself for God’s action, which is the awakening of love and which he alone can do. But persevere in doing your part and I promise you that God will not fail to do his."

– The Cloud of Unknowing


In non-Theravada forms of Buddhism, it is also easier to see the place of Grace. Dogen’s “just sit” and “your original face will appear” stand out from the Zen tradition. One opens themselves to something that has to “just happen.” It has to arise of its own. There is a back and forth between what we must do, and what must be done in and for us.

In the Theravada tradition, it seems to me that the most relevant Grace-related doctrine is the concept of Arising or Dependent Origination. Roughly speaking, the doctrine of Dependent (or Interdependent) Origination states that “when this happens, this will follow” , “when that happens, that will follow.”


“When this exists, that comes to be; with the arising of this, that arises. When this does not exist, that does not come to be; with the cessation of this, that ceases.”

– Assutavasutta, Samyutta Nikaya 12.61


The general idea of Dependent Origination seems to underlie much, if not all, of Theravada thought. If trsna/craving/thirst/desire is present, dukkha/suffering will follow. If one follows the Eightfold Path and thus eliminates trsna, dukkha will cease.

Specifically in regards to Theravada meditative practice, one can be diligent in their concentration practice, but the Jhanic states must arise. One can directly seek Nibbana, but the experience of Nibbana must arise.

The Theravada tradition tries to make systematic what one must do to attain Nibbana so much so that it seems to be presented as if the whole journey is completely within our control.

But it seems to me that Dependent Origination is itself a Grace. Arising itself is a Grace. It is something we can put ourselves in a position to experience, but the experience itself has to, in some sense, be done in us and for us.

Perhaps, from a Theravada perspective, the structure of the universe itself contains an element of Grace. It’s baked in.

Reflections on the Theravada Tradition | Too Systematic and Not Systematic Enough?

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The texts in the Theravada tradition seem to want to be extremely systematic about what they address. But. The texts are not always systematically consistent with one another.

Take the example of “the Jhanas.”

In the Theravada tradition, the term Jhana is used to describe various states or levels of “meditative absorption.” Throughout the Suttas, there are 8 Jhanic states referred to – 1st Jhana, 2nd Jhana, 3rd Jhana, 4th Jhana, Base of Infinite Space, Base of Infinite Consciousness, Base of Nothingness, and Base of Neither-Perception-Nor-Non-Perception. In some texts the Jhanic progression also culminates in a state of Cessation.

But the texts are not consistent either in how many Jhanas one must progress through, or in what one does with their mind during a Jhanic state. Nor (as far as I can tell) are we given an explicit method in the Suttas by which to attain the Jhanas. Explicit method seems to come later in the tradition with compilers/systematizers like Buddhaghosa. In the Suttas, one seemingly sits, performs some type of meditative discipline (for Buddhaghosa it is clearly a concentrative act on a specific object), and “enters the Jhanas.”

Comparing three texts from the tradition, we can see several differences in meditative practice related to the Jhanas.

In the Mahasaccaka Sutta (Majjhima Nikaya 36), the Buddha is recorded as attaining 4 Jhanas and then directing his purified mind at various elements of experience (his past lives, the passing away and reappearance of all beings, and “the destruction of the taints”). This attaining of the first 4 Jhanas, and subsequent direction of mind, is the full basis for the Buddha’s Enlightenment experience in this text. There is no mention of, and seemingly no need to attain, Jhanas 5-8 or a meditative state of Cessation.

“Now when I had eaten solid food and regained my strength, then quite secluded from sensual pleasures, secluded from unwholesome states, I entered upon and abided in the first jhāna, which is accompanied by applied and sustained thought, with rapture and pleasure born of seclusion. But such pleasant feeling that arose in me did not invade my mind and remain. With the stilling of applied and sustained thought, I entered upon and abided in the second jhāna, which has self-confidence and singleness of mind without applied and sustained thought, with rapture and pleasure born of concentration. But such pleasant feeling that arose in me did not invade my mind and remain. With the fading away as well of rapture, I entered upon and abided in the third jhāna, where I meditated with equanimity, mindful and fully aware, personally experiencing the bliss on account of which the noble ones announce: ‘He has a pleasant abiding who has equanimity and is mindful.’ But such pleasant feeling that arose in me did not invade my mind and remain. With the abandoning of pleasure and pain, and with the previous disappearance of joy and grief, I entered upon and abided in the fouth jhana, which has neither-pain-nor-pleasure and purity of mindfulness due to equanimity. But such pleasant feeling that arose in me did not invade my mind and remain. When my concentrated mind was thus purified, bright, unblemished, rid of imperfection, malleable, wieldy, steady, and attained to imperturbability, I directed it [toward past lives, the passing away and reappearance of beings, and the destruction of the taints]…”

In the Mahamalunkya Sutta (Majjhima Nikaya 64), an aspirant (confusingly) ascends through only 7 of the 8 Jhanas. In each Jhanic state, the aspirant is directed to “turn [his] mind away from [any conscious formations]” and directly seek Nibbana. In this text, there is no final state of Cessation mentioned, although perhaps one could experience Cessation/Nibbana during their Nibbanic seeking in any particular Jhanic state.

“Here, with seclusion from the acquisitions, with the abandoning of the unwholesome states, with the complete tranquilization of body inertia, quite secluded from sensual pleasures, secluded from unwholesome states, a bhikkhu enters upon and abides in the first jhana, which is accompanied by applied and sustained thought with rapture and pleasure born of seclusion. Whatever exists therein of material form, feeling, perception, formations, and consciousness, he sees those states as impermanent, as suffering, as a disease, as a tumour, as a barb, as not self. He turns his mind away from those states and directs it towards the deathless element thus: ‘This is the peaceful, this is the sublime, that is, the stilling of all formations, the relinquishing of all attachments, the destruction of craving, dispassion, cessation, Nibbana.’ If he is steady in that he attains the destruction of the taints…Again, with the stilling of applied and sustained thought, a bhikkhu enters upon and abides in the second jhana…Again with the fading away as well of rapture, a bhikkhu…enters and abides in the third jhana…Again with the abandoning of pleasure and pain…a bhikkhu enters and abides in the fourth jhana, which has neither-pain-nor-pleasure and purity of mindfulness due to equanimity. Whatever exists therein of material form, feeling, perception, formations, and consciousness, he sees those states as impermanent, as suffering, as a disease, as a tumour, as a barb, as not self. He turns his mind away from those states and directs it towards the deathless element thus: ‘This is the peaceful, this is the sublime, that is, the stilling of all formations, the relinquishing of all attachments, the destruction of craving, dispassion, cessation, Nibbana.’ If he is steady in that he attains the destruction of the taints. Again, with the complete surmounting of perceptions of form, with the disappearance of perceptions of sensory impact, with non-attention to perceptions of diversity, aware that ‘space is infinite,’ a bhikkhu enters upon and abides int he base of infinite space. Whatever exists therein of feeling, perception, formations, and consciousness, he sees those states as impermanent, as suffering, as a disease, as a tumour, as a barb, as not self. He turns his mind away from those states and directs it towards the deathless element thus: ‘This is the peaceful, this is the sublime, that is, the stilling of all formations, the relinquishing of all attachments, the destruction of craving, dispassion, cessation, Nibbana.’ If he is steady in that he attains the destruction of the taints…Again, by completely surmounting the base of infinite space, aware that ‘consciousness is infinite,’ a bhikkhu enters upon and abides in the base of infinite consciousness. Whatever exists therein of feeling, perception, formations, and consciousness, he sees those states as impermanent, as suffering, as a disease, as a tumour, as a barb, as not self. He turns his mind away from those states and directs it towards the deathless element thus: ‘This is the peaceful, this is the sublime, that is, the stilling of all formations, the relinquishing of all attachments, the destruction of craving, dispassion, cessation, Nibbana.’ If he is steady in that he attains the destruction of the taints…Again by completely surmounting the base of infinite consciousness, aware that ‘there is nothing,’ a bhikkhu enters upon and abides in the base of nothingness. Whatever exists therein of feeling, perception, formations, and consciousness, he sees those states as impermanent, as suffering, as a disease, as a tumour, as a barb, as not self. He turns his mind away from those states and directs it towards the deathless element thus: ‘This is the peaceful, this is the sublime, that is, the stilling of all formations, the relinquishing of all attachments, the destruction of craving, dispassion, cessation, Nibbana.’ If he is steady in that he attains the destruction of the taints.”



In the Culasaropama Sutta (Majjhima Nikaya 30), one progresses through all 8 Jhanic states and then achieves Cessation. In this text, there is no mention of directly seeking Nibbana during any particular Jhanic state.

“Here, brahmin, quite secluded from sensual pleasures, secluded from unwholesome states, a bhikkhu enters upon and abides in the first jhana, which is accompanied by applied and sustained thought, with rapture and pleasure born of seclusion.  This is a state higher and more sublime than knowledge and vision.  Again, with the stilling of applied and sustained thought, a bhikkhu enters upon and abides in the second jhana, which has self-confidence and singleness of mind without applied and sustained thought, with rapture and pleasure born of concentration… with the fading away as well of rapture, a bhikkhu abides in equanimity, and mindful and fully aware, still feeling pleasure with the body, he enters and abides in the third jhana, on account of which noble ones announce: ‘He has a pleasant abiding who has equanimity and is mindful.’…with the abandoning of pleasure and pain, and with the previous disappearance of joy and grief, a bhikkhu enters and abides in the fourth jhana, which has neither-pain-nor-pleasure and purity of mindfulness due to equanimity with the complete surmounting of perceptions of form, with the disappearance of perceptions of sensory impact, with non-attention to perceptions of diversity, aware that ‘space is infinite,’ a bhikkhu enters upon and abides in the base of infinite space…by completely surmounting the base of infinite space, aware that ‘consciousness is infinite,’ a bhikkhu enters upon and abides in the base of infinite consciousness by completely surmounting the base of infinite consciousness, aware that ‘there is nothing,’ a bhikkhu enters upon and abides in the base of nothingness… by completely surmounting the base of nothingness, a bhikkhu enters upon and abides in the base of neither-perception-nor-non-perception…by completely surmounting the base of neither-perception-nor-non-perception, a bhikkhu enters upon and abides in the cessation of perception and feeling.  And his taints are destroyed by seeing with wisdom.”

These texts, and others, lead authors like Buddhaghosa to attempt a synthesis of the tradition. In the culmination of Buddhaghosa’s Path of Purification, he seems to bring the texts together by having an aspirant attain each Jhana, and then after emerging from each Jhanic state see each state as impermanent, painful, and not-self. Finally, after an aspirant ascends through all 8 Jhanas, they direct their mind to Cessation/Nibbana and attain it in fullness.

“Having folded his legs crosswise, set his body erect, established mindfulness in front of him, he attains the first jhana, and on emerging he sees the formations within it with insight as impermanent, painful, and not-self…After that, he attains the second jhana, and on emerging he sees formations with insight in like manner…After that, he attains the third jhana, and on emerging he sees formations with insight in like manner.…After that he attains the fourth jhana, and on emerging he sees formations with insight in like manner…After that he attains the base consisting of infinite space, and on emerging he sees the formations in it in like manner…After that he attains the base consisting of boundless consciousness, and on emerging he sees the formations in it in like manner…After that he attains the base consisting of nothingness…Now, when he has thus attained the base consisting of nothingness and emerged [and done (a) preparatory task], then he attains the base consisting of neither perception nor non-perception. Then after one or two turns of consciousness have passed, he becomes without consciousness, he achieves cessation [“because the effort is directed to cessation”].”

I believe what the Theravada tradition presents in Jhana practice is a concentration practice which can lead to – in its final state, in certain circumstances, and in Theravada language – the peaceful, the sublime, the stilling of all formations, the relinquishing of all attachments, the destruction of craving, dispassion, cessation, Nibbana. Theravada’s way of talking about an experience of the Absolute.

But the Theravada tradition – in its description of the Jhanas and elsewhere – feels both too systematic and not systematic enough. If it’s going to try to 100% systematize a spiritual path, then the texts need to systematically align.

I’m not sure you can strictly systematize the spiritual life or meditative experience. We have various maps, from various travelers. But maybe we all need to make our own way.

Reflections on the Theravada Tradition | Dukkha, an Imbalance?

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One common critique of the Theravada Buddhist tradition is that it represents far too negative an outlook on life.


“Now this, bhikkhus, is the noble truth of suffering: birth is suffering, aging is suffering, illness is suffering, death is suffering; union with what is displeasing is suffering; separation from what is pleasing is suffering; not to get what one wants is suffering; in brief the five aggregates subject to clinging are suffering.”

– Dhammacakkapavattana Sutta, Samyutta Nikaya 56.11



The term Dukkha/Suffering can be softened, and translated as “unsatisfactory” or “stressful.” One can also note the Second Noble Truth, that suffering arises because of Trsna/Craving/Thirst/Desire. The way we interact with and interpret the world – with craving for self – at a minimum, adds to our suffering.

Nevertheless, on the whole, many texts in the tradition describe the world itself, not simply the way we interact with it, in starkly negative terms.



“‘Bhikkhus, what do you think?  Is material form permanent or impermanent? – ‘Impermanent, venerable sir.’ – ‘Is what is impermanent suffering or happiness?’ – ‘Suffering, venerable sir.’…‘Bhikkhus, what do you think?  Is feeling… Is perception… Are formations… Is consciousness… permanent or impermanent? –  ‘Impermanent, venerable sir.’ – ‘Is what is impermanent suffering or happiness?’ – ‘Suffering, venerable sir.’”

– Alagaddupama Sutta, Majjhima Nikaya 22


“Whatever exists therein of feeling, perception, formations, and consciousness, he sees those states as impermanent, as suffering, as a disease, as a tumour, as a barb, as a calamity, as an affliction...”

– Mahamalukyasutta, Majjhima Nikaya 64

“Bhikkhus, all is burning. And what is the all that is burning?

The eye is burning, forms are burning, eye-consciousness is burning, eye-contact is burning, also whatever is felt as pleasant or painful or neither-painful-nor-pleasant that arises with eye-contact for its indispensable condition, that too is burning. Burning with what? Burning with the fire of lust, with the fire of hate, with the fire of delusion. I say it is burning with birth, aging and death, with sorrows, with lamentations, with pains, with griefs, with despairs.

The ear is burning, sounds are burning…the nose is burning, odors are burning…the tongue is burning, flavors are burning…the body is burning, tangibles are burning…

The mind is burning, ideas are burning, mind-consciousness is burning, mind-contact is burning, also whatever is felt as pleasant or painful or neither painful-nor-pleasant that arises with mind-contact for its indispensable condition, that too is burning. Burning with what? Burning with the fire of lust, with the fire of hate, with the fire of delusion. I say it is burning with birth, aging and death, with sorrows, with lamentations, with pains, with griefs, with despairs.

Bhikkhus, when a noble follower who has heard the truth sees thus, he finds estrangement in the eye, finds estrangement in forms, finds estrangement in eye-consciousness, finds estrangement in eye-contact, and whatever is felt as pleasant or painful or neither-painful-nor-pleasant that arises with eye-contact for its indispensable condition, in that too he find estrangement. He finds estrangement in the ear…in sounds…in the nose…in odors…in the tongue…in flavors…in the body…in tangibles… He finds estrangement in the mind, finds estrangement in ideas, finds estrangement in mind-consciousness, find estrangement in mind-contact, and whatever is felt as pleasant or painful or neither-painful-nor-pleasant that arises with mind-contact for its indispensable condition, in that too he finds estrangement.”

– Adittapariyaya Sutta (“The Fire Sermon”), Samyutta Nikaya 35.28

I take the point.

Just to be born is a trauma. We leave the safety of the womb to enter a world where we instantly crave. If we don’t eat, we die. We are dependent upon others to keep us safe in a world full of danger. As we develop, we are put on a treadmill. We need to do this, we need to be this, otherwise ____. We won’t have a good life. We won’t be successful. We won’t be happy. Your teeth are messed up, you need braces. Otherwise you will be ugly and nobody will want you. You’re not very good at sports, better find something else to succeed in so you can be something, so you can have value. Your eyes are set too far apart. Your forehead is too big. You’re too manly. You’re too small. You have acne scars. Your body is, like, out of proportion or something. You walk funny. It’s weird. Well not much we can do about that. We’ll dress you for it as best we can. It’s ok, everybody has something wrong with them. There are many things wrong with you. We worry about pleasing our parents, we worry about our standing among our peers, we worry about if we are good enough, we worry if we can find somebody who accepts us and won’t leave us. We go through life striving for and attaining things, accomplishments, approval in the eyes of others. But even when we get the things we want, the things let us down – they never seem to fully satisfy. We are never fully happy and at ease. We go on worrying about losing what we have, or attaining the next thing we want. Turns out it’s all just a big fucking treadmill. A perfectly healthy 22 year old friend has a brain aneurysm and dies. A parent has a heart attack. Everything is cast against the backdrop of our mortality. Why are we here? What gives life meaning? We age and we die. Everything we have achieved, everything we are, will be taken away in the end. It’s already starting. You’re already past your prime. All is burning.

And yet.

It’s not dukkha all the way down. Playing a game of chess with my father is not dukkha. Hanging out with my nieces and nephews is not dukkha. Friendship is not dukkha. Meaningful work is not dukkha. Having a good breakfast is not dukkha. Playing softball in the summer is not dukkha. Making music is not dukkha. Falling in love is not dukkha. Listening to the birds chirp is not dukkha.

I agree with the tradition that when we come to life with craving for self (I tend to interpret the Second Noble Truth along the lines of the Vedantin concept of “selfish attachment” or “selfish craving” (Bhagavad Gita 2:48, 2:55, 2:71, 3:9, 5:28, etc.)), we will experience dukkha – suffering, dis-ease, unsatisfactoriness. When we interpret life in terms of “what can I get to make me happy?” we will suffer. Nothing will be enough. The answer to that is to live selflessly. Not fake selflessly. Actually selflessly.

There is also wisdom in the Theravada tradition’s insistence that we must seek the Absolute. All the traditions insist that seeking a direct and transformational experience of the Absolute, under whatever name it is called, is our ultimate good. The Buddhists call it Nibbana. Emphasizing the transitory nature of life and its unsatisfactory elements are ways of encouraging us in that direction. A Christian might say “consider your mortality and seek the Lord.”

But the world of samsara, in itself, seems like a mixed bag.

There are horrific, unimaginable things that cause suffering in this world. And we add to our own suffering by how we interact with and interpret the world. But there is also so much beauty here that it sometimes literally brings me to tears. I still don’t know how to reconcile it all.

Beauty 2

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There’s an extra kind of Beauty in old people – in the grandmother who has spent her entire life serving her family and community, even in spite of pain and loss.

It’s like Beauty+.

That’s the kind of beauty we should be striving for – to become.