This is an AI-generated transcript from auto-generated subtitles for the video Guided Meditation: “Take it Easy”; Buddha's Smile (4 of 5) Without Force. It likely contains inaccuracies.
Guided Meditation: “Take it Easy”; Dharmette: Buddha's Smile (4 of 5) Without Force - David Lorey
The following talk was given by David Lorey at Insight Meditation Center in Redwood City, CA on October 17, 2024. Please visit the website www.audiodharma.org for more information.
Lovely to see everyone, welcoming one another and checking in. As I did yesterday, I’d like to welcome everybody who is not saying "good morning" in the chat, which is most of us. Welcome, everyone. It’s a theme we’ll address a little bit tomorrow, but before we begin formally today, I’ll just say that one of the most important attributes of the IMC1 practice community is its inclusiveness. I like to recognize that there are a lot of us just sitting in without chatting, and that we’re part of the in-group, too. I like to say that at IMC there are no outsiders—everyone is part of the in-group. That’s in part because, as many of you know, everything at IMC is run by us. Every teacher, and everyone who opens the doors and takes care of the facilities, is a volunteer. It is all dāna2; it is all given freely, just as the teachings are given freely by the teachers.
It is seven o’clock here on the West Coast. I’ve been enjoying thinking about today since yesterday. We’ll continue with this theme of the Buddha's smile—the smile that develops in meditation as a result of the deepening of the practice. We establish and cultivate the conditions for the deepening of meditation, and with its deepening, we can expect five knowledges3 to arise. This is the theme of the text that guides us this week. The fourth of these knowledges is a really interesting one in the original language.
The text says: "This meditation is peaceful, tranquil, unified, and not held in place by forceful suppression." I thought I would call today’s talk "Without Force." It is so important in our practice to avoid forcefully doing anything. Even a small amount of force, violence, or hostility toward ourselves—toward the mind—is counterproductive. Sometimes it takes some dedicated effort to let go of those habits. For the guided meditation, I chose to refer to the Eagles' song, "Take It Easy." Those of you of my generation will already be correcting me and remembering that although the song was made famous by the Eagles, it was written by Jackson Browne4 when he was a teenager. I don’t know what he knew as a teenager about taking it easy, but the song encouraged a generation to take it easy.
Guided Meditation: “Take it Easy”
So, let's sit together. Bring your eyes down, bringing your attention inward and downward at the same time. Settling into this familiar place of greater ease and greater stillness, where freedom is possible. Just that possibility—just the hint of it—can give rise to this internal smile that sometimes plays across our features, and that we see mirrored and echoed in the features of the Buddha.
In the practice, we can bring attention to the breathing as one among several bodily experiences that can help ground us and give us a center point. The breath has these wonderful qualities within it: ease, balance, simplicity, and a slow pace compared to the world of rushing thought in which we are so often engaged.
Every time we reconnect with the breath—as I pointed out yesterday and earlier in the week—every time we return to the breath, far from being the source of frustration that it sometimes appears to be, it can be useful to think of it as an opportunity to reconnect with the qualities that are inherent in the breathing. It’s slower than thought. It’s simpler than the complicated, entangling places of the mind. And it’s naturally balanced. We don't have to constantly remind the breath to take in this much oxygen or exhale this much waste gas; the breath balances itself. If I climb up to the third floor to get the bell so I can end a meditation, as I did earlier, the breath knows what to do. It’s going to need some more oxygen; it’s going to move more quickly. I don't have to think about it. The breath balances itself.
Of course, there are exceptions. Sometimes the breath is more complicated—I myself have had significant asthma since childhood. But in general, the breath is simpler, slow, and balanced compared to the world of thought. So settle in with the breath and, today, take it easy. "Don't let the sound of your own wheels drive you crazy," in the words of the song, if I remember them correctly.
Today we can take this as a way to return to the breathing. We return to the breath without hurry, with gentleness. We don't need to engage in "Oh, I've drifted away from the breath," or worrying that the mind has wandered away, or that the mind has become tight and contracted around thinking about the future, the past, other people, or myself. We can just notice that the mind is thus. Then, gently and without hurry—as if we're tugging on the leash of a young puppy to come back and sit in our lap—we do it again and again. It doesn't help to yank. We can do this with this fundamental practice of returning our attention to the here and now. Do it without hurry. Do it without force. Do it without violence or hostility. Do it without frustration or a sense of failure. We can do it without doubt, a sense of inadequacy, or thinking we're not right for the practice. Just return. Keep it simple. Take it easy.
(Silence)
So, gently, unhurriedly, without force—perhaps almost without trying—we allow the here and now of our experience to come back to center. We do this fundamental practice of opening our attention back up to the here and now. When the mind becomes contracted and tight around thought—planning for the future, thinking about the past, thinking about other people or ourselves—we can bring attention back to the here and now. We can open attention back up more broadly to our experience in this moment in a way that's gentle, a way that has no force, no violence, and no judgment in it.
This is so much more important than it seems. This fundamental instruction, in a way, has all the teachings in it: to be fully present with our experience without adding anything extra. In the words of the song quoted at the outset, we can take it easy. We can avoid letting the sound of our own wheels drive us crazy. What do we do with the sound of our own wheels—the mind spinning? What if we just let it come and go? We let the sound of our own wheels on the gravel road or the freeway come into awareness, and then drift away again.
As we come to the end of the meditation, we can take this attitude of taking it easy, allowing our experience to arise so that we can let it in and let it go. We can take the ease that comes with that, the inner smile that arises, and share it. We engage in this practice for our own benefit, and we also engage in it for the benefit of others. As we share the ease, as we share the smile, as we share the Buddha's smile, we're giving something away, perhaps, but it's not a giving away that diminishes our own ease or contentment. May all beings share in this contentment and the potential to be awake. May all beings be free.
Thank you, everyone. And apologies if the first strike of that bell was a little louder than necessary to bring people gently and unhurriedly back to the here and now. Good morning again, and welcome. In the chat, I want to acknowledge that I see some dear old friends, and I very much appreciate the gesture of practicing together. I see dear old friends of my mother's also, and I acknowledge their presence. Again, I want to acknowledge all those who aren't engaging in the chat as it scrolls up.
Dharmette: Buddha's Smile (4 of 5) Without Force
We return to the teachings of this week: the five knowledges or understandings that arise as meditation deepens. The text encourages us to cultivate and deepen the meditation practice and then notes that, as we do so, five understandings about the meditation arise naturally. I’ve been drawing attention this week to how each of these five help further deepen the practice. Not surprisingly, this is part of the momentum we create in the practice. As we bring attention to these understandings as they arise, we further strengthen that tendency, that propensity in our minds and in our lives, to move toward greater freedom.
Sometimes people ask—and I’m going to just riff on that for a second, leaving my notes on the back of my iPhone—what does it mean when teachers say "cultivate" in the practice? How does that happen? There may be many ways—through study, for instance—but one way it happens in meditation is simply a function of how our brains work: as we bring attention to wholesome mind states, that strengthens them. Going back to the first day, when we notice that the pleasure that comes up in meditation is wholesome, that it doesn't depend on outside conditions, that it’s onward-leading and points toward greater ease—as we notice that and bring it into mind and hold it there, it gets stronger and creates forward momentum.
Today, the knowledge that arises in the meditation is—let me see if I can quote the text again—"This immersion5, this meditation as it deepens, is peaceful and tranquil and unified, and is not held in place by forceful suppression." This is the message today: that this tranquility, the unification and collectedness of mind that develops in meditation, isn't a result of force, but rather of letting go.
I have roughly three things that came up for me as I thought about this this morning over my cup of coffee.
First, for many of us gathered here, how we got where we did in life—our professional accomplishments, our successful raising of children, or whatever it is—usually resulted from a pattern of engagement with life that involves quite a bit of striving, planning, and effortful setting and attaining of objectives and goals. That’s wonderful; the mind can do those things. But in this practice, there’s a way in which we move into an alternate kind of world where the balance between effort and allowing is shifted noticeably toward allowing. In this way, too, we are "taking it easy." We’re letting things arise instead of trying to force things to happen.
You can notice this throughout the meditation practice. We provide a certain amount of discipline: we come and sit together at 7:00 AM, or earlier or later depending on where you are. In doing that, we exert a certain amount of discipline and effort to create the conditions for the meditation to deepen, but then we let the meditation deepen on its own. This knowledge comes to us: "Oh, it’s in letting go; it’s in allowing experience to rise and pass." Like those tires on a gravel road—now I’m mixing songs from the '70s and the '90s, the Eagles and Jackson Browne with Lucinda Williams6—nonetheless, we let that sound of tires on the road come and go instead of driving us crazy. We do that by allowing it to come up. We don't try to keep it from experience, and then we let go.
This is an important part of the balance of the practice. It's one of the reasons I think it's so useful to bring attention again and again to bodily sensations, particularly breathing, in which the balance between effort and allowing is there effortlessly. Every time we make contact with the breathing—or other bodily experiences, like sounds coming and going—we are directly in touch with something that is balanced between effort and allowing. As we bring our mind again and again back in touch with the breathing, a little bit of that attitude of the breath rubs off on the mind. The mind can enjoy finding this place of rest in a balance of "efforting" and allowing.
I put a little effort in here to gently and unhurriedly tug attention back to the breath, and then I let go. I allow that experience to arise to be known. "Okay, the mind’s off planning." There’s some awareness that, "Okay, there’s that happening." I exert a little bit of effort and discipline to re-center and open back up to the here and now. So there’s this constant balance of efforting and allowing. "Efforting," by the way, is probably not English—it's one of Gil's7 words, and I love it. Balancing efforting and allowing. It’s there in the breath; we don't have to make it up, force it, or create it. All we do is connect with the breathing where it’s already happening. We are paying attention: "Oh, there's balance here." With time, the mind enjoys resting in this balance. This fourth knowledge arises for us: "Ah, resting here, the mind enjoys this place of balance between effort and allowing, between efforting and letting go."
The second thing is this idea of "No Force." It’s not at all uncommon—it's probably universal, particularly at the beginning of practice—that when we become aware the mind has wandered, we have a voice inside (sometimes that voice of professional accomplishment) that says, "Dang, I’m lost. I didn't do it right. I need to pull attention back to the breath." Sometimes we use more forceful language: "Again and again, once again." It’s very easy for thoughts to come in like, "Oh, it's not working today," or "It’s not right for me." It can be useful to notice that in bringing the attention back to the breathing, there can sometimes be quite a bit of force exerted. That is force we can let go of over time. This takes practice.
As you do this more and more, you know that attention can come back to the breathing almost without effort, almost without any "trying" happening. It’s just like, "Oh, here’s center. Re-centering." There's no reason it should be any different. A teaching I share that’s come to me in my practice from Gil is that nothing is out of place in the meditation. There’s nothing that comes up that doesn't belong here. Nothing needs to be pushed away; nothing needs to be excluded. It’s all a legitimate part of the practice. When we really lean into this, we return to the breath with a sense of "of-courseness." It’s just like, "Of course, of course I come back to center now." It doesn't mean anything’s gone wrong, that I’ve done anything wrong, or that the practice isn't working. It’s just part of what’s here. To sum up that second point: nothing is out of place here in the meditation. It can all be met very gently with an open heart. "Oh, it’s like this now. This is arising now." When we do that, it’s easier to return to center without judgment and, eventually, without much effort.
The final thing is that this knowledge includes the idea that the meditation is "unified" or "collected." It brings together and holds together. A lovely part of this knowledge can be the sense that all of us can be here. All of you is welcome in the meditation. It follows from the second thing: nothing needs to be pushed away. All of the things that come up can be included. No aspect of ourselves, no particular course of thought, needs to be excluded. All of us can be included.
I had the pleasure of providing a roof to a close dharma friend and teaching colleague, Diana Clark8, last night. I want to give her her "props" for suggesting that not only can all of you be here in the meditation, but all of you must be here. This is a lovely idea. One thing we recognize as the meditation deepens is that all of us has to be included here for the meditation to keep getting deeper. We recognize that without any force, just acknowledging that all of it is here, all of it has its place, and all of it, in a sense, must be included gently and without force.
This simple instruction of returning attention to the breath seems so basic, but it’s foundational. It has all the teaching in it. The way we interact with our experience—including this experience of mind—is the practice. We can do so in a way that’s free, where we know, "Oh, the mind is like this now; it’s agitated," or "It’s at rest." As we become more familiar with that, we recognize that the mind has a preference for ease. As we notice that, we strengthen that propensity and create momentum toward freedom.
How we return attention to the breath is critically important. With time, you'll notice you don't have to do very much. Just notice that when it's done with ease—which will happen by itself sometimes—it’s better, freer, and more supportive of practice. It results in a deeper meditation.
Once again, I see we’re over time. I could go on and on, but I won’t. I’ll close by thanking you and acknowledging the presence of this large community of several hundred people sitting together and supporting one another’s practice. I encourage you to share the Buddha's smile today as it arises naturally as a beneficial byproduct of the meditation practice. Thank you, and see you tomorrow.
Footnotes
IMC: Insight Meditation Center, a community-based urban meditation center in Redwood City, CA. ↩
Dāna: A Pali word meaning "giving" or "generosity." In the Buddhist tradition, it refers to the practice of cultivating generosity and the voluntary giving of materials, energy, or wisdom. ↩
Five Knowledges: Referencing the Samadhi Sutta (AN 5.27), where the Buddha describes five knowledges that arise in one who has developed right concentration (samādhi). The fourth knowledge is that "this concentration is peaceful, exquisite, tranquil, and unified, not held in place by forceful suppression." ↩
Jackson Browne: An American singer-songwriter. Lorey is referring to the song "Take It Easy," which Browne co-wrote with Glenn Frey of the Eagles. ↩
Immersion: A translation of the Pali word samādhi, referring to a state of collectedness or unification of mind. ↩
Lucinda Williams: An American singer-songwriter. Her song "Car Wheels on a Gravel Road" is likely what Lorey is mixing with "Take It Easy." ↩
Gil Fronsdal: A primary teacher at the Insight Meditation Center (IMC) and the Insight Retreat Center (IRC). ↩
Diana Clark: A teacher at the Insight Meditation Center who also holds a PhD in Buddhist Studies. ↩