The Correct Way of Recollecting the Buddha and the States of Contemplating the Breath

Rukai's contemplative practice (vipaśyanā-caryā): Master! This afternoon there was construction outside the house, and the sound of electric saws and such was very loud, but I wanted to meditate, so I sat down. Listening to Master's recitation of the Buddha's name, I quickly quieted down. With only a single thought observing the breath—where the in-breath passed through, where the out-breath went—the whole process was very clear. I also heard the electric saw, the horns of cars outside, and people talking, loud and soft, but it did not affect my observation of the breath, and there was not the slightest irritation or any other emotion.

These sounds that normally affect me seemed at that time to become background noise; only Master's recitation of the Buddha's name was the clearest. Finally I opened my eyes and came out of sitting; the nearly one hour felt like having had a dream, and my mind was very clear. After getting down from the seat, I walked a few steps and felt a bit top-heavy, as if the qi had all gathered at the crown of my head. I was a little dizzy and did not want to speak, but I still wanted to listen to Master's recitation. Master, does this kind of sitting meditation count as having some meditative concentration (samādhi)?

Answer: This meditative power is quite good—there is both samādhi and wisdom. The noisy sounds did not affect the observation of the breath; hearing yet not hearing, aware yet not entering in, not turning along with the noisy sounds—this is evident meditative concentration. Within this samādhi, one can concentrate on contemplative practice and clearly observe the entire process of the breath's movement, not discriminating external sounds and remaining undisturbed—the power of wisdom (prajñā-bala) is quite good. It is precisely this kind of skill that can genuinely be put to use to generate wisdom, not the foolish samādhi of single-mindedly entering concentration while remaining ignorant of everything else. Because of focusing on the breath and not deliberating on miscellaneous matters, time seemed to pass very quickly. This kind of skill is the right path and right practice; over time, the Path will be realized.

The feeling of being top-heavy after coming out of the seat is caused by the qi and blood reaching the head but being unable to pass through—blockage in the head. As time goes on, the obstruction will lessen, and once the qi and blood pass through, it will be fine. Normally you can tap and pat the head to soften the channels a bit, and the qi and blood will flow smoothly.

My audio of the Buddha's recitation is the pratyutpanna-samādhi method of reciting the Buddha's name (medium-speed version). The pratyutpanna-samādhi is precisely this very slow speed of recitation; later on it becomes even slower than this—so slow that it almost comes to a pause—only then can one abide within the samādhi of Buddha recollection (buddhānusmṛti).

Initially, the speed of recitation should be even faster, because it is when concentration is shallow that the recitation is fast. A person without samādhi also cannot adapt to fast recitation, finding it oppressive and stifling. I will try the fast-speed method of reciting the Buddha's name, so that those with shallow or no samādhi can keep up.

If everyone finds the medium speed dull and oppressive to listen to, it shows that meditative concentration is still insufficient. Samādhi is concentration; concentration is stillness (śamatha). If the mind is to approach stillness, the sound must be slow and soft, even to the point of none, and the pitch must be low and deep. Only when the sound is deep and slow can the mind be gathered in, not projected outward, not scattered, without emotional fluctuation, with the mind settled and calm. High, loud sound is dispersing and involves emotional fluctuation; the mind cannot be stilled.

When reciting the Buddha's name slowly and in a low voice, wandering thoughts do not easily arise; the mind has no leisure to attend to anything else and sinks completely into the state of reciting the Buddha's name. This is also a method of cultivating samādhi and stilling the mind. It is not about appreciating whether the tone of the recitation is pleasant. Do not concern yourself with whether the sound is pleasing to the ear, nor with whether the sound of the Buddha's name is clear. The fundamental purpose is to gather the mind and concentrate it. The more picky one is, the more scattered the mind becomes.

If the melody is beautiful and lilting, greed will arise in the listener's mind; immersed in the melody, the mind cannot settle down and become still, and thoughts cannot be stilled. Only the monotonous sound of reciting the Buddha's name leads the mind into the state of recollection, so that the mind does not crave sounds and has no emotional fluctuation. Reciting the Buddha's name is not the appreciation of beautiful songs; it is the opposite of worldly music, going against its way. All who do not understand reciting the Buddha's name as practice like the sung recitations of musicians and singers, favoring beautiful, lilting melodies and pleasing sounds—but that cannot bring samādhi.

Once one enters samādhi, the sound of reciting the Buddha's name is no longer of use, but in the pratyutpanna-samādhi one must keep reciting without stopping, reciting for forty-nine days, until the pratyutpanna-samādhi is accomplished, seeing the Buddhas of the ten directions standing before one, and awakening to see the true mind (mingxin).