Nibbana can be defined as a state in which
- A person has become a Viññana not seeking support in, or
abiding in, anything belonging to the Khandhas, or alternatively
- A person has become someone able to regard all perceptual
objects as An-atta.
If we assume that the Five Khandhas are an attempt to
categorize all possible perceptual objects, this means that Nibbana has no
opposites among perceptual objects. This makes it difficult to explain what
Nibbana is. Clearly, if it has a specific character, we
must be able to define it by contrast and opposition to something.
The Pali Canon does not explicitly address this question in any positive way.
Its general tendency is just to negatively reject various possibilities for
defining it, refusing to propose any positive alternative. This is because the
main purpose of the Pali Canon is not to give a philosophical description of
Nibbana, but to speak in such a way as to help its readers actually reach this
state.
But Nibbana does clearly have a very specific character,
which means that it must be able to be described by contrast to something. My
proposal for such a contrastive description depends on a distinction between
- perceptual objects, all those particular
things or conditions that I can be directly aware of, contrastable with other
things or conditions, and
- a perceiving subject, which while perceiving
is not itself among the objects perceived.
Nibbana can be described as a particular attitude or relation
that "I" as a perceiving subject can adopt toward all perceptual objects. It is
an attitude partly describable as "regarding all these objects as an-atta." This
attitude or relation is not something I can directly perceive -- I cannot look
into myself and directly perceive whether I have this attitude/relation or not.
I can only indirectly know this by the way I am affected by changes in those
perceptual objects which I might be tempted to regard as
"essential-to-my-self-esteem." How much difficulty do I have accepting and
adapting to job-loss, or to inability to achieve a feeling of calm or blankness
of mind at meditation?
As one student suggested, the ability to handle or not these
things is like the ability to read. I cannot directly perceive my ability
to read. If there is no book in front of me at the moment, I can't look
into myself and directly perceive my "ability to read." I only know I have or
lack this ability when I am faced with a piece of writing, and am able or not
able to read it and make sense of it. In the same way, I can't look into myself
and directly perceive my ability to handle job-loss or to remain not deeply
upset by my inability to achieve calm at meditation. I only know that I have or
lack this ability indirectly when I am actually faced by specific conditions
that I might ordinarily resist fully accepting and adapting to.
Another analogy is a camera. A camera does not appear in the
pictures it takes. If I see a photo, I know it was taken by a camera. This is
not because I directly see the camera as one among the objects in the photo, but
because photos are only produced by cameras. So the existence of a photo
indirectly shows that there was a camera that took the photo.
In the same way, if I see a forest, this indirectly shows me
that I am a conscious, "perceiving subject." This is not because I as a
conscious perceiving subject appear as one among the many objects in the
forest that I am directly aware of. Being aware of a forest indirectly
shows me that I am a conscious perceiving subject, because only conscious
perceiving subjects (animals and humans) are capable of perceiving forests
(stones for example probably do not perceive forests).
Nibbana cannot be described in terms of any object or any
condition a person can be directly aware of. It can be described as a state of a
person as a conscious perceiving subject. It is a particular attitude that this
perceiving subject has toward all the objects and conditions that it is aware
of.
Persons who have not achieved Nibbana are persons who, as
perceiving subjects, have specific attitudes toward conditions they are aware
of, describable as
- Craving and Clinging to some particular conditions they are
aware of,
- "Seeking support in" or "abiding in" some particular
conditions they are aware of,
- Regarding some particular conditions they are aware of as
atta, "essential to me."
Nibbana is a very specific state, describable by contrast to
these very specific attitudes, as their precise and specific opposite.
******
Understanding these rather abstract ideas can be furthered and made more
concrete by contextual interpretation, relating them to the practice of
Vipassana. Vipassana is a very distinctive meditation practice unique to Pali
Canon Buddhism, whose goal can be described precisely as
- gradually gaining skill in becoming a non-abiding Viññana
- gradually gaining skill in being able to treat all
perceptual objects as an-atta.
That is, the goal of Vipassana is not to get rid of
particular directly perceptible mental emotional states (such as being upset or
preoccupied with thoughts), to produce any directly perceptible opposite mental
or emotional state (such as calmness or blankness of mind), or to have some
particular kind of directly perceptible experience (such as spiritual bliss). In
Vipassana, it does not matter what a person is aware of.
What matters is the attitude she takes toward what she is aware of. This
attitude describable as "becoming a non-abiding Viññana" is an attitude of
non-involvement and neutrality. Non-involvement means being aware of whatever
one is aware of, but resisting allowing oneself to be involuntarily involved in
the contents of thoughts or in specific reactions to what is perceived.
Neutrality means not trying to blank out some perceptions (such as pain, itches,
or annoying noises), or trying to change some conditions (such as nervousness or
depression) to bring about other conditions (such as peace or happiness).
This can be compared to the clutch in a car. When the clutch is engaged, the pistons in the engine turn the drive-shaft which in turn turns the wheels. Being drawn out by Tanha/Upadana into involuntary engagement with things is like having a stuck clutch, being unable to disengage the clutch to put the car in neutral, disconnecting the engine-pistons from the drive-shaft and the wheels. This is illustrated in the common experience of involuntary thinking going on at meditation. You might initially suppose that you are thinking because you freely choose to think. But it is often amazingly difficult to choose not to be thinking about anything. Your mental clutch is stuck in its "engaged" position. Tanha/Upadana are causing the thinking-wheels to turn involuntarily. Practicing Vipassana is slowly gaining the ability to disengage from this whole process, becoming a disengaged observer of your thoughts and their contents regarding all the thoughts and their contents as "not-me," An-Atta. This would not mean directly trying to stop the thinking ("slamming on the brakes"), but disengaging from the thinking, becoming a disengaged observer of your thoughts, allowing individual thoughts to come and go without getting engaged with them. Just as a car in neutral will keep on rolling along but gradually slow down and come to a stop, your thoughts will keep on going for awhile after you disengage, but will usually slow down and come to a stop if you disengage from them. But it is important to keep in mind that "stopping your thoughts" is just a possible by-product of Vipassana, not its main goal, which is the freedom, the disengagement itself.
The following are some excerpts from Buddhist writings explaining the
technique of Vipassana.
[In the early 20th century, some monks and nuns in Sri Lanka, Myanmar, and Thailand began to adapt traditional Buddhist meditation practices to the lives of lay Buddhists living outside monasteries. (The former Thai monk Dhiravamsa belongs to this movement.) In doing so, they chose the least complex and most direct of the many meditation techniques traditional in Buddhist monasteries and convents. They call this technique Vipassana, usually translated in English "Mindfulness Meditation" or "Insight Meditation." I include here, first, an excerpt from the section of the Pali Canon that Vipassana meditation is based on, then an excerpt from an early 20th century book written by one of the early proponents of this method in modern times, a German born Buddhist monk who went to Sri Lanka and took the Sinhalese name Nyanaponika Thera.]
A monk abides contemplating body as body..
he abides contemplating feelings as feelings...
contemplating mind as mind
he abides contemplating mind-objects as mind-objects,
ardent, clearly aware and mindful,
having put aside hankering and fretting for the world.
How does a monk abide contemplating the body as body?
He... sits down cross-legged, holding his body erect,
having established mindfulness before him.
Mindfully he breathes in, mindfully he breathes out.
Breathing in a long breath,
he knows that he breathes in a long breath,
and breathing out a long breath,
he knows that he breathes out a long breath.
Breathing in a short breath,
he knows that he breathes in a short breath,
and breathing out a short breath,
he knows that he breathes out a short breath.
He trains himself, thinking:
"I will breathe in, conscious of the whole body."
He trains himself, thinking:
"I will breathe out, conscious of the whole body."
He trains himself, thinking:
"I will breathe in, calming the whole bodily process."
He trains himself, thinking:
"I will breathe out, calming the whole bodily process."
So he abides contemplating body as body internally,
contemplating body as body externally...
He abides contemplating arising phenomena in the body,
he abides contemplating vanishing phenomena in the body.
Or else, mindfulness that "there is body" is present to him
just to the extent necessary for knowledge and awareness.
And he abides independent, not Clinging to anything in the world.
And that is how a monk abides contemplating body as body.
Again, a monk, when walking, knows that he is walking,
when standing, knows that he is standing,
when sitting, knows that he is sitting,
when lying down, knows that he is lying down.
In whatever way his body is disposed,
he knows that that is how it is.
A monk, when going forward or back,
is clearly aware of what he is doing,
in looking forward or back
he is clearly aware of what he is doing,
in bending and stretching
he is clearly aware of what he is doing...
in eating, drinking, chewing and savoring
he is clearly aware of what he is doing...
in walking, standing, sitting, falling asleep and waking up,
in speaking or in staying silent,
he is clearly aware of what he is doing.
So he abides contemplating Body as Body internally and externally...
and he abides independent, not Clinging to anything in the world.
And that is how a monk abides contemplating body as body.
And how does a monk abide contemplating Feelings as Feelings?
A monk feeling a pleasant feeling
knows that he feels a pleasant feeling;
feeling a painful feeling
he knows that he feels a painful feeling;
feeling a pleasant sensual feeling
he knows that he feels a pleasant sensual feeling;
feeling a pleasant non-sensual feeling
he knows that he feels a pleasant non-sensual feeling;
feeling a painful sensual feeling
he knows that he feels a painful sensual feeling
feeling a painful non-sensual feeling,
he knows that he is feeling a painful non-sensual feeling.
So he abides contemplating Feelings as Feelings...
He abides contemplating arising phenomena in the Feelings,
vanishing phenomena, and both arising and vanishing phenomena in the Feelings.
Or else, mindfulness that "there is feeling"
is present to him just to the extent necessary
for knowledge and awareness.
And he abides independent, not Clinging to anything in the world.
That is how a monk abides contemplating Feelings as Feelings...
So he abides contemplating mind as mind...
He abides contemplating arising phenomena in the mind...
[Nyanaponika Thera was born in Germany, but became a Buddhist monk in Sri Lanka. He describes here a modern interpretation of the above text which he says was developed early in the 20th century by the Burmese monk U Narada and refined by other Buddhist teachers since.]
Sit down on the meditation seat, turn[ing your] attention to the regular rising and falling movement of the abdomen, resulting from the process of breathing. The attention is directed to the slight sensation of pressure caused by that movement, and not so visually observing it. This forms the primary object of mindfulness...
It should be well understood that one must not think about the movement of the abdomen, but keep to the bare noticing of that physical process, being aware of its regular rise and fall, in all its phases. One should try to retain that awareness without break, or without unnoticed break, for as long a period as possible without strain... In the practice described here the object of mindfulness is not the breath but just the rise and fall of the abdomen as felt by the slight pressure...
Whenever the awareness of the abdominal movement ceases or remains unclear, one should not strain to ‘catch’ it, but should turn one’s attention to ‘touching’ and ‘sitting’. This should be done in the following way. From the many points of contact, or better, perceptions of touch, that are present in the apparently uniform act of sitting—e.g. at the knees, thighs, shoulders, etc—six or seven may be chosen. The attention should turn to them successively, traveling, as it were, on that prescribed route, ending with the awareness of the sitting posture, and starting again with the same series: touching—touching—touching—sitting; touching— touching—touching—sitting. One should dwell on the single perception just for the length of these two-syllable words (spoken internally, and later to be abandoned when one has got into the time rhythm). It should be noted that the object of mindfulness is here the respective sensation, and not the places of contact in themselves, nor the words ‘touching-sitting’. One may change, from time to time, the selection of ‘touches’.
This awareness of ‘touching-sitting’ is, as it were, a ‘stand-by’ of the awareness of the abdominal movement, and is one of the secondary objects of the main practice. It has, however, a definite value of its own for achieving results in the domain of Insight.
When, while attending to ‘touching-sitting’, one notices that the abdominal movement has become clearly perceptible again, one should return to it, and continue with that primary object as long as possible.
If one feels tired, or, by sitting long, the legs are paining or benumbed, one should be aware of these feelings and sensations. One should keep to that awareness as long as these feelings and sensations are strong enough to force attention upon them and to disturb the meditation. Just by the act of noticing them quietly and continuously, i.e. with Bare Attention, these feelings and sensations may sometimes disappear, enabling one to continue with the primary object. In the awareness of the disturbing sensations one stops short at the bare statement of their presence without ‘nursing’ these feelings and thus strengthening them by what one adds to the bare facts, i.e. by one’s mental attitude of self-reference, excessive sensitivity, self-pity, resentment, etc.
If, however, these unpleasant sensations, or tiredness, persist and disturb the practice, one may change the posture (noticing the intention and the act of changing), and resort to mindfully walking up and down.
In doing so, one has to be aware of the single phases of each step...: A. 1. lifting, 2. pushing, 3. placing; B. 1. lifting, 2. placing, of the foot.
This practice of mindful walking is, particularly for certain types of meditators, highly recommendable both as a method of concentration and as a source of Insight. It may therefore be practiced in its own right, and not only as a ‘change of posture’ for relieving fatigue...
Stray thoughts, or an unmindful ‘skipping’ of steps (in walking), phases or sequences of the abdominal movements, or of parts of any other activities, should be clearly noticed. One should pay attention to the fact whether these breaks in attention have been noticed at once after occurring, or whether, and how long, one was carried away by stray thoughts, etc., before resuming the original object of mindfulness. One should aim at noticing these breaks at once, and then returning immediately to one’s original object. This may be taken as a measure of one’s growing alertness. The frequency of these breaks will naturally decrease when, in the course of the practice, mental quietude and concentration improve...
One should not allow oneself to be irritated, annoyed or discouraged by the occurrence of distracting or undesirable thoughts, but should simply take these disturbing thoughts themselves as (temporary) objects of one’s mindfulness, making them thus a part of the practice (through the Contemplation of the State of Mind). Should feelings of irritation about one’s distracted state of mind arise and persist, one may deal with them in the very same way; that is, take them as an opportunity for the Contemplation of Mind-objects: the Hindrance of aversion, or of restlessness and worry. In this context the Meditation Master said:
"Since a multiplicity of thought-objects is unavoidable in ordinary life, and such defilements as lust, aversion, etc., are sure to arise in all unliberated minds, it is of vital importance to face these variegated thoughts and defilements squarely, and to learn how to deal with them. This is, in its own way, just as important as acquiring an increased measure of concentration. One should, therefore, not regard it as ‘lost time’ when one is dealing with these interruptions of the methodical practice."
The same method should be applied to interruptions from outside. If there is, for instance, a disturbing noise, one may take brief notice of it as sound’; if it was immediately followed by annoyance about the disturbance, one should register it, too, as ‘mind with anger’. After that, one should return to the interrupted meditation. But if one does not succeed at once in doing so, the same procedure should be repeated. If the noise is loud and persistent and keeps one from attending to the subject of meditation, one may, until the noise ceases, continue to take it as an object of mindfulness... within the frame of the Contemplation of Mind-objects...
In that way, disturbances of the meditative practice can be transformed into useful objects of the practice; and what appeared inimical, can be turned into a friend and teacher.
Nevertheless, when the mind has been quieted or the outer disturbances have disappeared, one should return to the primary subject of meditation, since it is the sustained cultivation of it that will make for quicker progress...
Quiet sustained effort, without too much regard to bodily discomfort, is recommended, particularly during a course of strict practice. Often, when disregarding the first appearance of fatigue, one will discover behind it new resources of energy, a ‘second wind’. On the other hand, one should not go to extremes, and should allow oneself rest when effort ceases to be useful. These intervals of rest will also form parts of the practice (with less intense focusing) if one keeps mindful. The more natural and relaxed the flow of one’s mindfulness is, or becomes, in following the continual arising and disappearing of its selected or variegated objects, the less fatigue will be caused by it.
When alertness grows one may also give particular attention to one’s thoughts or moods of satisfaction or dissatisfaction, even if very subtle. They are the seeds of stronger forms of attraction and aversion, and of feelings of pride or inferiority, elation or depression. It is therefore important to get acquainted with them, to notice them and to stop them early. One should also avoid futile thoughts of the past or the future, as Satipatthana is concerned with the present only.
Further Reading: The progressively formless meditations (jhanas) in the Pali Canon (another kind of meditation technique frequently described in the Pali Canon.
Excerpts from Dhiravamsa's A New Approach to Buddhism. Dhiravamsa is a former Thai Buddhist monk in the Theravada tradition, who conducts meditation retreats in the US and the UK. His New Approach to Buddhism adapts traditional Theravada teaching to lay life in the modern world.
Excerpts from Shunryu Suzuki's Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind. although Zen Buddhism, a Mahayana sect, is different from Theravada Buddhism, this modern teacher's way of applying Buddhist teachings to the life of laypersons in the US might give you some good ideas for intelligent practical interpretation.