This is an AI-generated transcript from auto-generated subtitles for the video Mindfulness of the Body For the Blues and the Bliss - Francisco Morillo Gable. It likely contains inaccuracies.

Mindfullness of the Body For the Blues and the Bliss; Guided Meditation: Mindfulness of the Body - Francisco Morillo Gable

The following talk was given by Francisco Morillo Gable at Insight Meditation Center in Redwood City, CA on November 11, 2024. Please visit the website www.audiodharma.org for more information.

Guided Meditation: Mindfulness of the Body

Good morning and welcome. It is a pleasure to be here with you all on this beautiful Sunday morning. I am going to offer some words to guide us into a meditation for this period. By the time we come out, I will probably have my jacket off, but I run a little cold, so I have to keep it on for a bit.

In entering this meditation, I would like to invite you to take a look at the statue of the Buddha right here next to us. I find it to be an instruction of potential—a potential for a refuge.

So, closing your eyes as you wish, if you wish, feel welcomed here exactly as you are. Feel fully accepted as you are, however your mind is, however your heart is. Know that we are here in a refuge, and maybe with time, that refuge takes hold within.

Witness the rhythm of the body, the rhythm of the breath. Be very curious about the breath, like a gentle, benevolent parent coming into this body to see, "How is this breath?" A benevolent figure doesn't come and try to change anything; they just witness, see, and connect. There is the inhale, there is the exhale, there is rhythm. How is it for you, watching it as a benevolent figure would participate?

Over time, as we sit in silence, maybe we learn how to feel this refuge within—from a deep place of basic satisfaction in being here now. A simple place of contentment: the breath breathing itself. Perhaps it is a place of tranquility with wisdom that holds you as you are, in this body, breathing itself.

With some sense of this loving guide or refuge, take note if there is anything that is not calm—perhaps something a little agitated. Breathing, notice if you can take that in from a tranquil place. Maybe there is some other tranquil place here that allows you to be with the agitation.

As the breathing happens all on its own, from some deep place within, we can know and receive in awareness, in mindfulness, what is here. This body, this fathom-long body¹, is here. Sense and know the body from the very crown of the head down to the toes and the bottoms of the feet. Maybe we can know an exhale or two that allows the body to just rest here a little more, all on its own, settling into its weight.

One of the things we can be aware of is how we are thinking. Sometimes thinking goes so fast that there is a feeling of disconnection; it almost puts us "out of body" a little bit. That is okay; there is no problem with it. We can simply be aware of it from a calm, embodied place. Whatever calm is here, breathing, it can be interesting to notice: "Wow, that thinking is a few steps away." There is this global body here to rest and release.

Give room to the thinking. Feel the sensation of any tension or pressure from the thoughts. There is no need to push it away or try to stop it. Sense the body breathing and know whatever comes into your awareness. Mindfulness itself is calming; awareness has its own tranquility.

It can be useful to know that there are different kinds of thinking. There is discursive thinking², which is like a story or a running stream of verbal expressions, visual expressions, ideas, and notions. With your calm awareness, notice that ongoing commentary if it is there. We might notice how that storyline is a bit of a leak; mindfulness is leaking out as opposed to being tranquil. Isn't that interesting? Go and rest in your tranquil awareness to whatever degree it is there.

There is also thinking that is non-discursive. That is just a few simple words: "Oh, this is thinking," or "Oh, this is tension; maybe I should feel it," or "I felt that enough; maybe I should begin to breathe again." These are very simple thoughts that guide the meditation—quiet little thoughts of recognition and understanding that are best when they are tranquil.

Finally, there is non-verbal thinking—a kind of non-verbal knowing. These can be like wise thoughts from deep inside your refuge. That knowing makes thinking quieter. It is a knowing that recognizes the discursive thought in the background, but from the place of wise knowing, it just says, "Ah, there that is."

All along, continue to allow relaxation, resting with the rhythm of breathing. Relax with the exhales that bring release. Open with the inhale, as if the body opens up from within and gathers itself to relax on the exhale. Perhaps the inhale brings relaxation into the hips or the center of your core.

For the remainder of this meditation, let your attention be rooted somewhere—maybe in the rhythm of breathing or some deep stability in the center. Attention resting like that can be like a calm, supportive hand on a shoulder that comforts and supports. It is a support that allows well-being to grow—a comforting hand that gives a sense of sweet, tender ease.

[Long period of silence]

I invite you to feel and rest in whatever relaxation is available—whatever relaxation comes from your body resting here, breathing together. Let the well-being grow. It is your birthright to feel well-being. If you are steadfast with it, perhaps it can fill you up like a big, broad lake, and then your well-being spreads out beyond you.

In the middle of it all, you can enter the center of your attention—that refuge that holds you as you are and receives you as you are. Over time, trust and be reassured by that inner refuge. There is no need to be thinking, reacting, or responding right now. All the "doing" can rest. It can settle in a reassuring way, like that hand on your shoulder or your heart. An attention that is steadied, still, quiet, peaceful, and unified.

Introduction

Speaker 2: Thank you. Good morning everyone, and welcome again to IMC. As many of you know, our entire center works on donation. If you are inclined, the teachings are always freely given; there is never a charge for the Dharma here. There is a box with the teacher’s name and a slot for operations near the front door, as well as an electronic kiosk.

Our teacher this morning is Francisco Morillo Gable. Francisco began meditating in 2003 after a life-changing accident. Meditation practice has helped him make an unexpected recovery and adapt to his disability. Prior to the accident, he worked in the technology sector as a senior director. Francisco is classically trained in Buddhist meditation practices from Southeast Asia, and in April, he will be authorized as a Dharma teacher by the Insight Meditation Center teacher training program. He is especially interested in teaching in the Spanish-speaking world and underserved groups. He was born and raised in the Dominican Republic until the age of ten, at which time he immigrated to the United States. Good morning, Francisco. Thank you for being here and for your guided meditation.

Francisco Morillo Gable: You are so welcome. It is a pleasure to be here with all of you today.

Mindfullness of the Body For the Blues and the Bliss

On Tuesday evening, I found myself on a retreat. I didn't schedule it because of the date; it just happened to coincide with a teacher I wanted to be with. I was by a lakeshore, looking at mountain peaks at sunset. For about an hour, I sat by the water, watching the light change in amazing, mesmerizing ways against the 10,000-foot peaks. It was deeply relaxing and moving.

I was aware of what was taking place that night in the world, though I was not watching the news; I was in silence. Looking at the peaks at one of the most beautiful moments of light, I started to sob deeply. Regardless of the news, there was no doubt that there would be a lot of pain. I made a small gesture: "May all citizens of the United States be at peace. May all be at ease. May all be well." I continued sobbing, knowing that there would be pain next to joy.

That was one of the highlights of the retreat for me, even though it was physically challenging. I’d like to share some words from that night, called "A Prayer for Our Times," which comes from our community:

May we be side by side, regardless of our differences. Where there is hate, let us stand in hate's way with love. Where others offer care, we offer to help. Where others neglect to care, we offer what we can. Where there is respect, we offer friendship. Where there is no respect, we offer kindness.

The greater our challenges, the greater the value of Buddhist practice. Rather than a practice to avoid challenges or celebrations, it is a practice that prepares us to meet them wisely and calmly. We can meet our inner life with honesty and goodwill so we can be wise and skillful in these times—times that deserve prayer, good wishes, and wisdom so we can be calm, strong, fierce, and alert.

I thought I would share some reflections on a practice that offers a lot of nurturing wisdom: mindfulness of the body. This is one of the three great mindfulness practices outlined in the suttas. We have the Satipaṭṭhāna Sutta³ (the four establishments of mindfulness), the Ānāpānasati Sutta⁴ (mindfulness of breathing), and the Kayagatāsati Sutta⁵ (mindfulness of the body).

In the Kayagatāsati Sutta, the Buddha puts us in a position to build concentration—samādhi⁶—alongside our mindfulness. Concentration can be very healing because it builds a sense of wholeness. It offers clarity, allowing us to discern, and it gives us momentum in our awareness. The Buddha says these practices are of "great fruit and great benefit."

The practice starts with mindfulness of breathing, bodily postures, the thirty-one body parts, the elements, and contemplations of the corpse. Right at the beginning, we are asked to cultivate calming. The Buddha instructs us to know the breath—whether it is long or short—and then to feel it in the whole body. Sense the relaxation and linger on that relaxation.

I think it is an encouraging way to start. When we linger on calm, we connect to contentment. Our practice becomes founded on contentment, which is very supportive as a reference point. The Buddha says that as one abides thus—diligently, steadfast, and resolved—the memories and intentions based on worldly life are abandoned. The mind becomes steadied internally, quieted, brought to singleness, and concentrated.

When we come to meditation, we are taking a moment to put aside the "worldly life." To care for ourselves in this way is a respectful invitation. We choose to turn toward something deeper—the wise place of knowing that emanates from a place deeper than all words and thoughts. In the discourses, this is called the citta⁷—the heart-mind. Some might call it the soul or the spirit. That deepness within is our reference point.

The benefits of mindfulness of the body are profound. Once practiced and cultivated, one becomes a "conqueror of fear and dread." Doesn't that sound good? One becomes a "conqueror of discontent." We also obtain at will the four absorptions (jhānas⁸), meaning great concentration is available to us.

Tranquility includes calm, serenity, ease, joy, happiness, and equanimity. To have more of that available is what we are invited to cultivate. This psychophysical system we inhabit is amazing, full of nerves that go everywhere. As we become aware of the "sense-touch," our attention comes alive. We enliven the attention while the tension of the body dissolves.

We don't do this alone; we are given the reference point of tranquility. Contentment is like our guide or companion. We hold this contentment as we do the "insight work" of feeling all the different manifestations of sensations. We build our mindfulness with a helper that comes from within us.

The Buddha uses great water similes for mindfulness. We don't want our mindfulness to be like a mound of wet clay that can be squashed by a stone. Here, the "stone" represents Māra⁹—those external and internal forces of fear and dread that squash our awareness. Instead, we want mindfulness to be like a full jug of water, or like a door made of heartwood—the hardest core of a tree.

What does it take for your mindfulness to be like heartwood? Do you need more peace, more calm, or a different kind of steadiness? What kind of benevolence do you need to hold you along the way? Every moment we are aware of a sense-touch, mindfulness grows.

This discourse traces the gradual development of the entire Buddhist path: sīla¹⁰ (ethics), samādhi (concentration), and paññā¹¹ (wisdom). As we practice, we look at our ethics and what is wholesome. The more we align with wholesomeness, the more we can access concentration.

Before the absorptions, we deal with the hindering forces: fear, dread, and the classic hindrances (sensual desire, ill will, restlessness, sloth, and doubt). One of the most interesting things is the hindrance of doubt. In this context, it is often a doubt of wholesomeness. To not doubt wholesomeness—to take that as a stand—is tremendously healing and strengthening. It is one of the fiercest things I have found: making wholesomeness front and center. It powers mindfulness because it allows what wants to emerge to emerge, without veering into things that hurt us.

When we allow unwholesomeness in, mindfulness is contracted and walls are put up. It is a wondrous thing when these hindrances begin to fall away. We can feel the absence of that aversion or that angry thought from last week. That absence is something to linger on. There is room to feel goodness there, and that goodness is worth cherishing. That is how deep calm comes—when we rest in that relaxation. These moments are like cheerleaders, saying, "Keep going, keep letting go, this is the way to be completely free."

As we move into the jhānas, there is a sense of welling up, saturation, and being contentedly satisfied. These are the things that become available through mindfulness of the body.

Finally, the Buddha uses the metaphor of the water jug being tipped over. When mindfulness is fully developed, the water is set free. This is a metaphor for our awareness. When awareness is developed, it is set free to have deep, liberating insight. We can look at what happens to suffering when we have settledness. We learn that suffering is not constant. A gap opens up where we can see that suffering ends. We can become that gap. We know there is a place where there is no suffering, and that becomes a reference point.

We tap into that non-verbal place beyond all constructions and ideas. We can come from that place of deep knowing to be with this world. That is a beautiful place to be because we can choose from a position of self-assurance, steadiness, and joy.

In this age, it is more important than ever that we choose our actions based on their consequences. We can choose wholesome actions—beautiful karma¹². We can bring this out into the world. If you are friendly, others may be friendly. When you demonstrate care for the welfare of others, they may care for you. Let's make a better world for everyone who faces prejudice, hostility, and disrespect. Let's help everyone prosper with the necessities of life and build a society where we respect each other without demeaning anyone.

Meet the world from your deepest place of goodness by aligning yourself completely and utterly with wholesomeness, all the time.

Thank you very much for your attention and for your presence here.