Progressively more formless states (jhanas)

Several kinds of meditation practices are mentioned in the Pali Canon. Besides Vipassana, described in the Satthipatthana Sutta, the other practice most frequently mentioned concerns a progressive series of mental states that a meditator might achieve.

The most complete series begins with "four jhanas" (sometimes translated "four trances") then goes on to describe four (sometimes five) even more advanced states beyond the four jhanas. The first jhana is a state characterized by "applied and sustained thought, and rapture and pleasure born of seclusion." As the series progresses, applied and sustained thought ceases, then rapture and pleasure cease, so that in the fourth jhana the meditator has abandoned pleasure and pain, joy and grief have disappeared, and she experiences only "purity of mind due to equanimity."

In the first stage beyond the jhanas, the person "abides in the base of infinite space." Then she goes beyond infinite space, and "abides in the base of infinite consciousness." Going beyond this, she "abides in the base of nothingness," then "abides in the base of neither-perception-nor-non-perception," and finally "abides in the cessation of perception and feeling."

The details of these descriptions are not all very clear. The important thing for present purposes is that reaching more and more exalted states is not pictured as a matter of experiencing and achieving union with some higher reality. It is rather a matter of progressively ceasing to be aware of anything at all. At earlier stages the objects of awareness are already very subtle and abstract. The objects become ever more subtle and abstract until the meditator has become only a subject who is aware, but this subject is not aware of any object at all, not even of an object so subtle and abstract as "nothingness." This is sometimes called "the trance of cessation."

This part of early Buddhist teaching must be understood in the context of other teaching about Tanha. That is, Tanha is such a pervasive and deeply rooted part of a normal person’s relation to the world that it is triggered by any contact with any object whatsoever. This is implied in rather exaggerated fashion in the "Fire sermon," for example, which says that all possible objects of perception are "on fire... with passion, hatred, infatuation..." Even as hyperbole, this is plausible only on the above mentioned assumption, that in the normal case all contact with any objects of perception cause immediate reactions motivated by Tanha. In this context it makes sense that one way of escaping from the influence of Tanha would be to remove one’s mind from all objects of perception whatsoever. One can spell this out more fully as follows:

On the present interpretation, Tanha is driven by insecurity, an inability to feel good about oneself and one’s life without tangible signs confirming one’s sense of self-worth and meaning in life. This can be pictured also as a need to be connected to something in the world, to perceive something in the world that tangibly mirrors back to a person her own being and identity, her own sense of self worth. Tanha is thus driven by a fear of being radically alone, unconnected to anything. Even a meditator with eyes closed, mentally shut off from the external world, can still feel the worthwhileness of her life confirmed by a feeling of internal spiritual bliss. The progressive mental states described above are a way of confronting and overcoming this fear of being unconnected and alone at the most basic level, by severing mental contact with any perceptible objects whatsoever, even the most subtle and abstract mental objects.

Like all Buddhist meditation practices, achieving this state of awareness-without-an-object is not an end in itself, a state one would want to achieve and then remain in forever. It is rather a means of reducing or cutting off Tanha at its roots. With a drastic reduction or elimination of Tanha, contact with objects would no longer present a problem, because the problem in the first place was the fact that contacts with objects triggers reactions governed by Tanha. The ideal would be to be able to return to ordinary involvement in everyday life but now to relate to everything on a different basis. If the present interpretation is correct, one’s relation to the world would be governed by expressive and appreciative motivations, rather than by neediness and deep dependencies.

As another passage puts it, for such a person, "the satisfaction of his natural wants will not defile him. Let him eat and drink according to the needs of the body. 'Water surrounds the lotus flower, but does not wet its petals." (See Lucien Stryk p. 49)

Note on the term jhana: Jhana is often translated "trance," but this is misleading because it is clear in the following excerpt that the person in these intense meditational states remains highly conscious and alert. The Japanese term Zen is ultimately derived from jhana.  That is, the Sanskrit equivalent of jhana is  dhyana, which the Chinese pronounced ch’an-na, shortened to ch’an.  "Zen" is the Japanese pronunciation of the Chinese word Ch'an (Sŏn in Korean, Thien in Vietnamese).

 

Excerpt from the Pali Canon on the Formless Jhanas

 

(Majjhima Nikaya 66.26 and 77.15 (comparisons to the bath-powder, the lake, etc. are taken from 77.15)

 

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.

He makes this rapture and pleasure… drench, steep, fill,

and pervade his body,

so that there is no part of his whole body

unpervaded by the rapture and pleasure born of seclusion.   

Just as a skilled bath man or a bath man’s apprentice

heaps bath powder in a metal basin and,

sprinkling it gradually with water,

kneads it till the moisture wets his ball of bath powder,

soaks it and pervades it inside and out,

yet the ball itself does not ooze;

so too, a bhikkhu makes the rapture and pleasure born of seclusion

drench, steep, fill, and pervade his body,

so that there is no part of his whole body

unpervaded by the rapture and pleasure born of seclusion.

But that, I say, is not enough. Abandon it. Surpass it.

And what surpasses it?

 

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,

[but] with rapture and pleasure born of concentration.

He makes the rapture and pleasure born of concentration

drench, steep, fill, and pervade this body,

so that there is no part of his whole body

unpervaded by the rapture and pleasure born of concentration.

Just as though there were a lake whose waters

welled up from below and it had no inflow

from east, west, north, or south

and would not be replenished

from time to time by showers of rain,

then the cool fount of water welling up in the lake

would make the cool water drench, steep, fill,

and pervade the lake,

so that there would be no part of the whole lake unpervaded by cool water;

so too, a bhikkhu makes the rapture and pleasure born of concentration

drench, steep, fill, and pervade this body,

so that there is no part of his whole body unpervaded

by the rapture and pleasure born of concentration.

That surpasses it.

But that, I say, is not enough. Abandon it. Surpass it.

And what surpasses it?

 

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 upon and abides in the third jhana,

on account of which noble ones announce:

"He has a pleasant abiding who has equanimity and is mindful."

He makes the pleasure divested of rapture

drench, steep, fill, and pervade this body,

so that there is no part of his whole body

unpervaded by the pleasure divested of rapture.

Just as in a pond of blue or red or white lotuses,

some lotuses that are born and grow in the water thrive

immersed in the water without rising out of it,

and cool water drenches, steeps, fills,

and pervades them to their tips and their roots,

so that there is no part of all those lotuses

unpervaded by cool water;

so too, a bhikkhu makes the pleasure divested of rapture

drench, steep, fill, and pervade this body,

so that there is no part of his whole body

unpervaded by the pleasure divested of rapture.

 

That surpasses it.

But that, I say, is not enough. Abandon it. Surpass it.

And what surpasses it?

 

With the abandoning of pleasure and pain,

and with the previous disappearance of joy and grief,

a bhikkhu enters upon and abides in the fourth jhana,

which has neither-pain-nor-pleasure

and purity of mindfulness due to equanimity.

He sits pervading this body with a pure bright mind,

so that there is no part of his whole body

unpervaded by the pure bright mind.

 

Just as though a man were sitting covered from the head down

with a white cloth, so that there would be no part of his whole body

not covered by the white cloth;

so too, a bhikkhu sits pervading this body with a pure bright mind,

so that there is no part of his whole body unpervaded by the pure bright mind.

 

That surpasses it.

But that, I say, is not enough. Abandon it. Surpass it.

And what surpasses it?

 

With the complete surpassing 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.

 

That surpasses it.

But that, I say, is not enough. Abandon it. Surpass it.

And what surpasses it?

 

By completely surpassing the base of infinite space,

aware that 'consciousness is infinite,’

a bhikkhu enters upon and abides in the base of infinite consciousness.

 

That surpasses it.

But that, I say, is not enough. Abandon it. Surpass it.

And what surpasses it?

 

By completely surpassing the base of infinite consciousness,

aware that 'there is nothing,’

a bhikkhu enters upon and abides in the base of nothingness.

 

That surpasses it.

But that, I say, is not enough. Abandon it. Surpass it.

And what surpasses it?

 

By completely surpassing the base of nothingness,

a bhikkhu enters upon

and abides in the base of neither-perception-nor-non-perception.

 

By completely surpassing

the base of neither-perception-nor-non-perception,

a bhikkhu enters upon

and abides in the cessation of perception and feeling.

That surpass it.

Thus I speak of the abandoning

even of the base of neither-perception-nor-non-perception.

[There is no] fetter, small or great,

of whose abandoning I have not spoken.