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Guided Meditation: Respectful Awareness; Introduction to Mindfulness (22 of 25) Mindfulness with Concentration 2 - Gil Fronsdal

The following talk was given by Gil Fronsdal at Insight Meditation Center in Redwood City, CA on February 20, 2024. Please visit the website www.audiodharma.org for more information.

Guided Meditation: Respectful Awareness

Hello everyone, and welcome to our meditation session. For this session, I'd like to convey visually a teaching that I offered at the last retreat I taught at the Insight Retreat Center. It's meant today to offer a kind of distinction between mindfulness and concentration. These are two partners in the practice, and they work together, but they're distinct in some ways.

To begin this visual demonstration, we begin with the notion that occasionally we human beings are entangled in our concerns. We're caught up, we're stuck, we're attached. It could be with people; we're entangled with people, we are codependent, we are upset with them, we're just wrapped up in our concerns around them. Or we are entangled with things in the world, or even with ourselves and aspects of ourselves.

The demonstration for this would be like the fingers of our hands coming together and locking, just really locked together. It can quite make a knot out of it. If I wrap them around and bend them around each other, then pull apart, I just can't get them apart. If I'm really holding on, gripping tight, I can't get them apart. I have to release the hands to be able to get them apart. When entangled in things, it's possible to be so in the middle of the drama of it all that we're kind of in it and entangled in something.

The classic example for me is being in a group of people who are caught up in an argument about something. For some reason, you step away, maybe leave the room, and come back to the edge of the group and watch them argue. You feel like, "Wow, that's quite something. They're caught up in it and they don't even know it." But from that distance, you see clearly what's going on.

We somehow find a way to step away to see from a distance what it is we're concerned with, and that's mindfulness. It is a kind of stepping away so we can see what's happening. We can perceive, be aware of what's happening, almost like we're making breathing room for our experience that we can't do if we're caught up in the middle of it. There's no room to breathe, no room to see or to feel. But we step back so we can see what's happening.

Concentration is to come back and make contact again, like this. I like this image because it's a gesture of respect in Buddhism. So we're not being aloof from experience, but we're not being entangled in it. We're seeing it clearly. In that seeing, and our respect for what's there, to get to know it better, we stay there. We get close to it, we feel it, and then the soft, tender parts—the sensitive parts of the hand—can touch what's there.

In some classic Buddhist texts, they talk about having a cloth and rubbing a bronze bowl, just bringing it together gently, staying with it to feel it, to be with it. But for today, I'd like to suggest the idea that we're not being aloof; we're being distinct. We're being separated enough to not be defined by whatever is going on, not be shaped by it, not be identified with it, but also not disrespectful and aloof. Just enough so we can see, "Oh, that's here. Here's awareness. I'm aware." Or if you prefer, "I'm here, and my concern, my emotions, my thoughts—they're there, and I can see them." Coming together and approaching this is a kind of gesture of respect. Concentration is a gesture of respecting what's there so we can stay, feel, sense, and make room for it.

Mindfulness is not just being aware and then going on to the next thing to be aware of. Mindfulness is to recognize what's there and then get to know it better, come closer, feel it, sense it. Concentration is lingering with something, and that lingering can be a long time. It can feel really good. It can be a kind of absorption. But it's not absorption like being entangled; it's absorption of just really resting there together with experience.

So, assuming a meditation posture, gently closing your eyes, and taking a few moments just by a mental act of recognition that you are here now. At a time and place where your mind does not need to be caught in things out there. There's a definitive recognition: here and now is the place for awareness. Have that grounding. Here, unentangled, here in your body. Feeling the weight of your body against the surface that holds it up, that receives its weight.

Take a few long, slow, deep breaths, and relax and let go into this body. The clarity of taking your place—meaning wherever you're meditating, this is your place. You belong. For now, this is your place. Take your place here now, so that you can be independent of other things around you, other things in your life for these minutes.

Letting your breathing return to normal, and on the exhale, continue to relax the body. Then, center yourself on your breathing. Recognizing the sensations of breathing in, the sensations of breathing out, and how those sensations are different from each other. Recognizing the distinct characteristics of an inhale, of an exhale.

For a few moments here, imagine that your ability to perceive breathing, or to know that you're breathing, is distinct from the breathing itself. Two different processes: one physical, one mental. Almost as if you can step away from the experience of breathing and observe it.

And then, as if two palmed hands—the palms come together respectfully—gently let your awareness become closer to the breathing. Almost as if awareness is there to respect and care for each inhale and each exhale. So the awareness is gently massaged or rubbed by the experience of breathing. It becomes clear that awareness, mindfulness, attention, is both distinct from breathing and in touch with breathing. Lingering in the experience of that contact between awareness and breathing, without entanglement, without being defined by it or troubled by anything. Respectful awareness, respecting each breath.

As we sit here, if you become aware of body sensations, emotions, or thinking, know it mindfully by knowing that you're in some way apart from it. You're not defined by it. You are not it. But you can be with it and linger with it.

A synonym for concentration is being steadied. Steadying yourself in the awareness of whatever you're present for at the moment.

And then, as we come to the end of this sitting, take a three-breath journey. With each breath, with each exhale, steady yourself here. Settle yourself here. To whatever degree you feel steadied, settled, or grounded here, prepare yourself for ending this meditation by turning your attention outward into the world around you, to the people in your lives, strangers, neighbors, the people you might encounter today.

Gaze upon them steadily, calmly. With a steady gaze, gaze upon them kindly with generous eyes, a generous heart, with goodwill, well-wishing, and appreciation. Gaze upon others with appreciation, wishing that they fulfill their capacity for joy and happiness. May all beings be happy. May all beings be safe. May all beings be peaceful. May all beings be free. Thank you.

Introduction to Mindfulness (22 of 25) Mindfulness with Concentration 2

Welcome to this second day of the fifth week of the Introduction to Mindfulness. These first couple of days this week, I want to emphasize the partnership of mindfulness and concentration: sati¹ and samādhi². These two work together.

Concentration, or samādhi, brings a steadiness. It brings an ability in the steadiness of mind to have a continuous awareness of something. Mindfulness opens the space to be aware, and concentration keeps us connected. There is a chance to really feel and sense something, to really get absorbed in something, to stay present without being distracted by the baggage we carry (as I talked about yesterday), without picking up baggage, or without becoming distracted from what we're paying attention to.

Mindfulness, being the initial kind of awareness or recognition of something, can be engaged in different ways. It's helpful to think sometimes that the knowing of mindfulness—the being aware of something with the mind's eye or the mind's sense—allows us to have the sense that we get really close to something. We can be right there with the sensations in the body, right there with the emotions as they're experienced in the body. Or we can step back one, two, or three feet and just kind of from a distance be aware of something. We don't have to be immersed³ or right up against something. Sometimes it's helpful to step back.

Like with fear, if we're really, really close to fear, it might feel like it's too much. It's almost more activating and activates more fear. But if we can step back and have a wide perspective, with lots of room for the fear, then maybe the fear is manageable. We can stay with it and feel it. I've known people for whom it was helpful to do the exercise of imagining how far back they have to be in order to feel able to stay present for something very difficult. Some people talk about being across the street or up on a hill nearby, looking back at themselves sitting and meditating, and then they can be with it. But if they're right in the middle of the challenge, it's just too much for them.

So awareness, or mindfulness, can adjust the lens we use to be present. The lens can be a close-up, or it can be panoramic—almost stepping back quite far and getting the big picture. It's possible for the mindfulness to feel like a close-up on a very little piece of something, and it's possible to take in the panoramic big picture again. Learning how to adjust the aperture, adjust the distance and the lens that we're using, is very skillful. Some things are difficult to be present for, and some things might be much easier to be with, but even there, mindfulness in different circumstances is useful at a different distance, a different aperture, a different closeness.

For example, if there's a lot of agitation in the mind, it might be best just to step back and take in the big picture: "Oh, here's an agitated mind, here's an agitated body." Going in and getting close to any one particular sensation of agitation might just agitate us more. But other times, it might be something that is very particular in the body, and the mind is fairly steady. Then it could be interesting to bring the attention really close in, even into a little square centimeter in the body, and just be there to feel what's there.

Concentration, then, is the steadiness with whatever aperture or whatever lens we're using for mindfulness. To be steady so that we don't bounce off easily or get distracted easily. The function of concentration is to steady that awareness—to stay right here—and to bring a kind of respect. Concentration is the act of respect that keeps us present for something.

I've been at social gatherings where someone sees me from a bit of a distance. They are like someone who just has to go say hello to a lot of people. They see me, and they look like they're delighted to see me. They come over, but by the time they're shaking my hand, their hand has gone limp and their eyes have gone over to the next person. So I wasn't met. It was like we were getting ready to meet and see each other clearly, but the person just glances off. We don't want to do that with our inner experience when we meditate. We want to have time to really know, to hear this with respect. Concentration is a steadiness, a settledness. That settledness and steadiness of mindfulness can be done at different apertures.

The example I used of coming together might not be what's called for. Maybe it's like this sometimes: maybe it's just from a distance saying, "Hey, hi, I see you over there." That sense of "Hi, I'm here, and you're way over there," can make it easier to be with sadness, with anger, or just a spinning mind. It settles something and helps us to be with it and be present. Mindfulness is a little bit more—I think of it closer to wisdom. The knowing of mindfulness helps us decide what form of mindfulness, what aperture lens, we use.

It also helps us decide how to settle on the experience. Do we settle through our whole body being grounded here? That sense of being grounded and settled gives us a kind of independent feeling that, "I can be here with whatever comes up." Or is the steadiness more mental? Like just somehow the attention of the mind relaxes or settles into the experience right there.

Another way of thinking of all this is that concentration is the left hand, and mindfulness is the right hand. They come together in cupped hands, like this, and so then we hold the experience. Difficult experiences, like maybe a lot of fear, can just be held by both of these. Because they're together, there's a little bit more fullness, a little more settledness, something that can receive in the moment, and through moments, there's a continuity.

All along the way, this continuity and settledness in attention can be supported. Sometimes this is to breathe with the experience, or breathe into the experience, or through the experience. There's something about the continuity of breathing coming and going that creates a rhythm. It's kind of like the beat of the music. There's both the tune and the beat somehow, and the beat just keeps going and steadies or grounds the music in a certain kind of way.

So the beat is the continuity of this rhythm of breathing that protects us from getting caught in thoughts and reactivity. It also keeps the awareness present and supports the concentration. It supports the respectful attending, staying, lingering, just being with it.

And if you use this idea of a three-breath journey, for whatever you're aware of, just be aware for three breaths. Sometimes that's enough for it to be fully acknowledged and no longer need more attention. Sometimes we give too much attention to some things, getting confused between thinking about something, trying to fix something or make it go away, and mindfulness itself.

To have just three breaths with something makes it easier to keep it really simple: know it, let it be, and come back to being grounded just in the breathing. If that thing is still calling for attention, do another three-breath journey. Of course, you can stay longer with things, but there's something protective about just three breaths, and then gently begin again with just the breathing. Then take three breaths with something else or the same thing and come back.

If that seems too complicated or too busy, then of course you don't have to do it. But it might be a nice rhythm for helping you stay present here—mindful and steadied, mindful and concentrated, mindful and centered on this present now.

So the blending, or the marriage, or the partnership of mindfulness and concentration is a great support for this practice. All the things I've been teaching these last few weeks, each step along the way, can be partnered with a little bit of lingering, of staying, of steadying. Steadying with experience, steadying ourselves with body sensations, with breathing. Steadying ourselves with emotions. Steadying ourselves not with thinking, so we think more, but steadying ourselves—we're steadying awareness, mindfulness, with the experience. We're steadying all of ourselves to be here, so we can discover how to be independent of what is known.

We can know, but that knowing, that awareness, is not entangled with what is known. It stands independent. And in that independence, we can provide more respect for each and everything. If we're entangled, there's no room for respect, even though you might think that this is respect—to be all caught up with someone. But if we are distinct, then the meeting of whatever awareness knows can be done with respect.

May you keep mindfulness close to you throughout the day, so that whoever you meet, whatever activity you're doing, whatever objects you're involved in—like washing the dishes—you do so with respect for each and everything. Thank you.