A Guide to Meditative Absorption (Samadhi) by Burmese Pa Auk Sayadaw

Today I’ll share the foundational principles for practicing anapanasati (mindfulness of breathing) to cultivate stable concentration. Buddhist meditation practices generally fall into two broad categories: samatha (tranquility meditation) and vipassanā (insight meditation). Samatha is the path for building stable concentration; vipassanā is the path for cultivating wisdom.

Of these two, samatha forms the essential foundation for vipassanā. As the Buddha said in the Saccasaṃyutta (Connected Discourses on the Truths):

Monks, you should develop concentration. Monks, a monk with concentration can know things as they truly are.

For this reason, we encourage new meditators to first practice samatha, build deep concentration, and then take up vipassanā to see things as they really are. Of the 40 samatha meditation methods, we typically guide new meditators to begin with anapanasati, as most people can successfully cultivate concentration through this practice. The Buddha recommended anapanasati to his disciples in the Saṃyutta Nikāya (Connected Discourses), saying:

Monks, the concentration that arises from developing and repeatedly practicing anapanasati is peaceful and sublime, a pure, unadulterated abiding in bliss, which can immediately extinguish and pacify unwholesome thoughts as soon as they arise.

The Visuddhimagga (Path of Purification) explains:

Among the foundational meditation subjects that all Buddhas, some solitary Buddhas, and their disciples used to attain realization and abide in present happiness, anapanasati is the foremost.

For this reason, I encourage you all to hold this practice in deep faith, and engage with it sincerely and respectfully.

1. Sit upright, keep a natural posture, and relax your entire body

You can choose any seated posture that feels comfortable for you. If crossing your legs is difficult, you do not need to sit cross-legged; you can rest your legs side by side flat on the floor, without crossing one over the other. A cushion of suitable height will make your seat more comfortable and help you hold your torso upright with less effort. Next, release tension from your entire body, working from head to toe. Don’t let any tightness build up in your body. If you notice tension in any area, let it go by relaxing and returning to a natural posture. If you don’t fully relax before you sit, tight spots will turn into pain or discomfort after a while, so make sure you fully release all tension every time you begin a meditation session.

2. Set aside all worldly concerns, and hold a calm, easeful mind

Reflect that all conditioned things are impermanent: they will not bend to your wishes, but will unfold according to their own nature, so clinging to them is pointless. The wisest choice is to set these concerns aside for the duration of your practice. When distracting thoughts arise, remind yourself that this is your time to let go of all worries, and keep your mind focused only on your meditation object: the breath. If a pressing matter pops into your head that you feel you need to think through, don’t turn your attention to it during practice. Jot it down in a small notebook you keep with you, then set it aside and return your full focus to meditation. If you truly want to master anapanasati, you will need to set aside all mundane tasks and distractions. Some meditators aim to build concentration, but can’t let go of their attachment to worldly affairs. Their minds grow scattered, darting constantly between the breath and everyday concerns. Even if they try hard to calm their minds, they can’t succeed, simply because they can’t release their grip on other objects. This attachment is a major barrier to progress in meditation, so make a firm commitment to set all worldly concerns aside during your practice, and work with a calm, easeful mind.

3. Grow familiar with the breath through regular practice

Once you’re certain your entire body is relaxed and your mind is free of worry, rest your attention on the spot where the breath touches the skin just outside your nostrils: the area between your nostrils and your upper lip. Try to notice the breath in this area. When you can feel the breath anywhere in this spot, keep your attention resting there, aware of the breath. Hold the role of a neutral observer: be aware of the natural breath without trying to control or change it, as this will make the breath feel strained and cause tightness in the chest. Keep your attention on the breath as it passes through this spot, without following it as it moves into the body or out of the body.

The Visuddhimagga uses the analogy of a gatekeeper to illustrate this point:

A gatekeeper does not concern themselves with people who have already entered or left the city, but only checks those passing through the city gate.

In the same way, the point of contact between the breath and your skin is like the city gate: you should not focus on breath that has already entered or left the body, only on the breath passing through this point of contact.

Another key point: focus on the breath itself, not the specific characteristics of the four primary elements (mahābhūta) present in the breath. This means you should not attend to the hard, rough, heavy, soft, smooth, or light qualities of the breath (earth element), its flowing or cohesive qualities (water element), its hot or cold qualities (fire element), or its supporting or pushing qualities (wind element). If you focus on any of these qualities, the others will grow increasingly prominent, and will disrupt your concentration. All you need to do is hold a simple, whole awareness of the breath itself.

Some meditators struggle to notice their breath at first, because it is very subtle, and they are not yet accustomed to being aware of such soft, faint breathing. Keep your attention at the spot where the breath appears, with a calm, alert mind, and simply know that you are still breathing. That simple awareness that you are breathing is all you need; don’t try to make your breath more obvious on purpose. At this stage, clear mindfulness is essential. If you stay alert and patient, you will gradually grow able to notice the subtle breath. Getting used to being aware of subtle breath is extremely helpful for building deep concentration.

Follow the Middle Way in your practice: use just the right amount of effort. Don’t push too hard, as overexertion will lead to problems like tension, headaches, and eye strain; at the same time, don’t slack off, as too little effort will leave you daydreaming or drowsy. Use just enough energy to stay continuously aware of the breath.

When distracting thoughts arise, don’t engage with them—gently guide your attention back to the breath. Getting angry at distracting thoughts or at yourself helps nothing, and will only make your mind more agitated. By choosing to ignore distracting thoughts, you will gradually grow less attached to them; by returning to the breath again and again, you will grow more familiar with it. This is the right way to work with distracting thoughts.

If your mind is often scattered by distracting thoughts, you can silently repeat "in, out; in, out..." to yourself as you breathe, to help your mind settle on the breath. You can also use a breath-counting method: pick a number between five and ten, then count steadily from one up to that number. For example, if you choose to count to eight: mentally note "in" as you inhale, "out" as you exhale, and count "one" silently at the end of the exhale. Count "two" silently at the end of the next exhale, and so on, counting up to eight before starting over again and repeating the cycle. When you count your breaths this way, keep your attention on the breath, not the numbers—the numbers are only a tool to help you anchor your mind to the breath. Keep counting until your mind feels calm and stable, then you can stop counting and rest in simple awareness of the breath alone.

4. Focus your attention solely on the breath

When you can stay aware of the breath continuously for 15 to 20 minutes, you are already quite familiar with it, and you can narrow your focus to the breath itself. In the previous step, you were aware of the breath while also noting the point of contact; in this step, you narrow the scope of your attention to rest only on the breath, which will help your mind grow more focused.

5. Focus on every moment of the breath (full-spectrum awareness)

When you can hold your focus on the breath continuously for 30 minutes or longer, your concentration is already quite stable, and you can practice full-spectrum awareness of the breath. This means that as each breath passes through the point of contact from start to finish, you attend to every part of it without missing a single moment. Focusing on every moment of the breath this way will make your concentration grow stronger and deeper, as there is no room left for your mind to wander to other things. You will notice that the breath is sometimes long, sometimes short. Here, long and short refer to the duration of the breath, not the physical distance it travels. When the breath is slow, its duration is long; when it is fast, its duration is short. That said, don’t intentionally try to make the breath longer or shorter—let it remain natural. Whether the breath is long or short, continue practicing full-spectrum awareness of it. If you practice this way with steady, unwavering perseverance, your concentration will grow increasingly stable. If you can hold your focus on the breath for more than an hour in each sitting session, with at least five sessions per day, and maintain this for at least three days, you will soon notice the breath transform into a meditation sign (nimitta), at which point you can progress to a deeper stage of practice.

The above are the foundational key points for practicing anapanasati. Please take the time to memorize each one, and put them into practice earnestly. You can practice in this way in any posture, at any time. Keep practicing even when your formal sitting session ends, without breaking your awareness. This means staying aware of the breath as you open your eyes, uncross your legs, stand up, and move through the rest of your day. You should also maintain awareness of the breath at all times during daily activities, whether you are walking, standing, sitting, or lying down. Avoid directing your attention to anything other than the breath, so the gaps in your practice grow shorter and shorter, until you can eventually maintain continuous awareness with almost no interruption. From the moment you wake in the morning until you fall asleep at night, this entire span of time should be dedicated to this diligent, unbroken practice. If you practice with this level of dedication, there is a very good chance you will reach absorption concentration (jhāna) during this retreat—this is exactly why the Buddha said that anapanasati should be developed and repeatedly practiced. Aside from reporting to your meditation teacher or handling absolute necessities, please observe noble silence for the duration of the retreat, especially in your sleeping quarters. Hosting a retreat like this is no small task: the organizers and support staff have worked hard to arrange everything you need, so you can focus fully on your practice without distraction. The lay supporters have donated all necessary supplies out of the sincere wish that you will succeed in your practice and share the merit of your efforts with everyone. All of this is reason enough to practice with dedication. That said, don’t expect everything to be perfect. Cherish every convenience that is available to you, and bear with any inconveniences gracefully. Don’t complain about anything—instead, keep your mind settled on your breath at all times. Please begin practicing now. May you all find success in your practice.

Note Anapanasati: The practice of maintaining mindful awareness focused on the breath. Meditation sign (nimitta): The object of mental focus that arises during meditation practice. The term "skillful method" refers to applying the correct techniques outlined earlier, combined with the meditation experience you have built up through your own practice. For example: do not attend to the specific characteristics of the four elements in the breath, but rest your awareness on the breath as a whole; do not fixate on the point of contact (it is fine to hold a peripheral awareness of it); do not focus on the sensation of contact; know that the breath may appear in many different states; know that very subtle breath may be present or absent, and so on.

How to Practice Anapanasati to Reach Jhāna

Preface

I am very glad to have been invited to Taiwan by a group of Taiwanese bhikkhus and bhikkhunīs, all of whom have previously practiced at Pa-Auk Forest Meditation Monastery, located on the outskirts of Mawlamyine, Myanmar. Over the course of my time in Taiwan, I will share with you some of the meditation system practiced at Pa-Auk Forest Monastery, which is rooted in the guidance of the Pāli Buddhist scriptures and the Visuddhimagga. We hold that the meditation methods taught in the Pāli scriptures are exactly the methods the Buddha practiced himself, and the methods he taught his disciples during his lifetime.

Why Practice Meditation?

First, we must ask ourselves: "Why did the Buddha teach meditation?" or "What is the purpose of practice?" The aim of Buddhist practice is to realize Nibbāna: the complete cessation of mind (nāma) and matter (rūpa). To realize Nibbāna, we must fully extinguish both wholesome mental phenomena (nāma) rooted in non-greed, non-hatred, and non-delusion, and unwholesome mental phenomena rooted in greed, hatred, and delusion; these phenomena drive the cycle of repeated birth, aging, illness, death, and the suffering of saṃsāra (the cycle of rebirth). When we cultivate insight knowledge through vipassanā practice until we realize the four path knowledges that see Nibbāna, these phenomena are fully extinguished. In other words, Nibbāna is liberation from the ocean of suffering that is birth and death in saṃsāra: the cessation of birth, aging, illness, and death. We all experience the suffering of birth, aging, illness, and death; to be free from all suffering, we must practice. Driven by the wish to be liberated from all suffering, we need to learn how to practice in order to realize Nibbāna.

So, What Is Practice?

Practice encompasses both samatha (tranquility meditation) and vipassanā (insight meditation), and both rest on the foundation of moral conduct of body and speech (sīla). In other words, practice is the cultivation and full unfolding of the Noble Eightfold Path. The Noble Eightfold Path comprises: right view, right intention, right speech, right action, right livelihood, right effort, right mindfulness, and right concentration.

The Noble Eightfold Path

Right view and right intention are collectively known as the training in discernment, or wisdom (paññā training); the Buddha called these the right view of vipassanā and the right view of the path. Right speech, right action, and right livelihood are collectively called the training in virtue (sīla training). Right effort, right mindfulness, and right concentration are collectively called the training in concentration (samādhi training), which is the path of samatha meditation.

Now, I will explain each factor of the Noble Eightfold Path in more detail.

The first factor is Right View. What is Right View? Right View encompasses four kinds of understanding. The first is knowing the Noble Truth of Suffering (dukkha)—the five aggregates of clinging. The second is knowing the Noble Truth of the Origin, the cause of suffering: the insight that penetrates the causes and conditions behind the five aggregates of clinging, or in other words, the insight into dependent origination (the Twelve Links). The third is knowing Nibbāna, the Noble Truth of Cessation—the cessation of the five aggregates of clinging. The fourth is knowing the Noble Eightfold Path, the Noble Truth of the Path—the practice that leads to the realization of Nibbāna.

The second factor is Right Thought. Right Thought (the mental factor of applied thinking) has four aspects: directing the mind toward the Noble Truth of Suffering, toward the Noble Truth of the Origin, toward the Noble Truth of Cessation, and toward the Noble Truth of the Path. So Right Thought directs the mind toward each Noble Truth, while Right View knows each one as it really is. Because they work together like this, they're collectively called the training in wisdom.

The third factor is Right Speech—abstaining from false speech (lies), divisive speech (sowing discord), harsh speech (abuse), and idle chatter (useless talk).

The fourth factor is Right Action (proper conduct)—abstaining from killing living beings, stealing, and sexual misconduct.

The fifth factor is Right Livelihood—abstaining from earning a living through unwholesome speech or behavior, such as killing, stealing, or lying. For householders, this also means avoiding five kinds of unethical trade: weapons, human beings, animals for slaughter, intoxicants such as liquor, and poisons. These three factors—Right Speech, Right Action, and Right Livelihood—are collectively called the training in moral discipline.

The sixth factor is Right Effort. Right Effort has four aspects: striving to prevent unwholesome states that haven't yet arisen; striving to abandon unwholesome states that have already arisen; striving to bring forth wholesome states that haven't yet arisen; and striving to sustain and enhance wholesome states that have already arisen. To develop these four kinds of Right Effort, we must practice the three trainings of morality, concentration, and wisdom.

The seventh factor is Right Mindfulness. There are four foundations of mindfulness: mindfulness of the body, mindfulness of feelings, mindfulness of the mind, and mindfulness of dhammas (mental objects). Here, "dhammas" refers to the fifty-one mental factors other than feeling; or from another angle, it refers to the five aggregates of clinging, the twelve sense bases, the eighteen elements, the seven factors of enlightenment, the Four Noble Truths, and so forth. In simple terms, though, the Four Foundations of Mindfulness come down to two: mindfulness of material phenomena (rūpa) and mindfulness of mental phenomena (nāma).

The eighth factor is Right Concentration. According to the Mahāsatipaṭṭhāna Sutta, Right Concentration refers to the first jhāna, the second jhāna, the third jhāna, and the fourth jhāna. The Visuddhimagga gives a more detailed account: the four form-realm jhānas, the four formless-realm absorptions, and access concentration.

Some people have already accumulated profound pāramīs, and simply by hearing a brief or detailed exposition of the Dhamma, they can realize Nibbāna. Most of us, though, don't have such pāramīs. We must cultivate the Noble Eightfold Path step by step. Such practitioners are called "those who need to be led"—they require gradual cultivation, practicing in the order of morality, concentration, and wisdom: after purifying their moral conduct, they develop concentration; after purifying the mind through concentration, they cultivate wisdom.

So how does one develop concentration? There are forty samatha meditation subjects, and any one of them can be used. If you can't decide which to choose, start with ānāpānasati (mindfulness of breathing). Most people can develop concentration through ānāpānasati or the meditation on the four elements. With that in mind, I'll now briefly explain the practice of ānāpānasati.

How to practice ānāpānasati:

The Buddha taught the method of ānāpānasati in the Mahāsatipaṭṭhāna Sutta. There he said: "Bhikkhus, here a bhikkhu goes to the forest, to the foot of a tree, or to an empty hut. He sits down cross-legged, holds his body erect, and establishes mindfulness on the meditation subject. Mindfully he breathes in; mindfully he breathes out. Breathing in long, he knows: 'I breathe in long'; breathing out long, he knows: 'I breathe out long.' Breathing in short, he knows: 'I breathe in short'; breathing out short, he knows: 'I breathe out short.' 'I breathe in, fully aware of the whole breath,' he trains thus; 'I breathe out, fully aware of the whole breath,' he trains thus. 'I breathe in, calming the bodily formation,' he trains thus; 'I breathe out, calming the bodily formation,' he trains thus."

When you begin, sit in a comfortable posture and try to be aware of the breath entering and leaving the body through the nostrils. You should be able to feel it at a point just below the nose (the philtrum) or somewhere around the nostril openings. Don't follow the breath into the body or out beyond it—if you do, you won't be able to develop concentration. Just stay aware of the breath at the most distinct point where it brushes against the area just above the upper lip or around the nostrils. This is how you'll be able to develop and attain concentration.

Don't focus on the breath's specific characteristics (its inherent nature), its general characteristics, or the color of the nimitta. The specific characteristics are the individual natural qualities of the four elements within the breath—hardness, roughness, fluidity, support, pushing, and so on. The general characteristics are impermanence, suffering, and non-self. In practical terms, this means don't silently repeat "in, out, impermanent" or "in, out, suffering" or "in, out, non-self." Just be aware of the in-breath and out-breath themselves. The breath itself is the object (ārammaṇa) of ānāpānasati—the object you focus on to develop concentration.

If you've practiced this meditation in past lives and accumulated sufficient pāramīs, then attending to the breath in this way—as a whole concept, without zeroing in on individual characteristics like pushing or heat—you'll find it easy to concentrate. If concentration doesn't come easily, the Visuddhimagga recommends counting breaths. Count at the end of each breath cycle: "in, out, one; in, out, two; … in, out, eight." Count at least to five but not beyond ten. We suggest counting to eight, as a reminder that you're cultivating the Noble Eightfold Path. Choose a number between five and ten according to your preference, and resolve not to let the mind wander during that count—just calmly stay with the breath. Counting this way, you'll find the mind settling, peacefully and simply aware of nothing but the breath.

Once you can concentrate this way for at least half an hour, move on to the second stage: breathing in long, you know, "I breathe in long"; breathing out long, you know, "I breathe out long." Breathing in short, you know, "I breathe in short"; breathing out short, you know, "I breathe out short." At this stage, you develop awareness of how long or short each breath is. "Long" and "short" here don't refer to physical length but to duration. As you tune in to the duration of each in-breath and out-breath, you'll notice that sometimes the breath lasts longer and sometimes not. All you need to do here is simply notice this. If you want to mentally note something, don't say "in, out, long" or "in, out, short"—just note "in, out" while incidentally aware of whether the breath is long or short. Keep your focus on the breath itself; the awareness of length is secondary. Sometimes the breath is long throughout an entire sitting; sometimes it's short throughout. Don't deliberately try to make it long or short. Noting the length is just a way to help the mind stay with the breath—the breath remains the primary focus. So don't get caught up in exactly how long or short it is. If you do, the factor of investigation (dhamma-vicaya) will become too strong, and the mind won't settle.

The nimitta may appear at this stage. But if you can concentrate peacefully for about an hour and no nimitta appears, move on to the third stage: "I breathe in, fully aware of the whole breath," he trains thus; "I breathe out, fully aware of the whole breath," he trains thus. Here the Buddha instructs you to stay continuously aware of the breath from beginning to end as it passes the same point—the whole breath, its beginning, middle, and end. Practicing this way, the nimitta may appear. If it does, don't immediately shift your attention to it—stay with the breath. If you can calmly follow each entire breath at the same point for about an hour and still no nimitta appears, proceed to the fourth stage: "I breathe in, calming the bodily formation," he trains thus; "I breathe out, calming the bodily formation," he trains thus. To do this, resolve to let the breath grow calm, then keep focusing continuously on the entire breath at the same point for each cycle of breathing. Don't try to force the breath to calm down through some other technique—that will only cause your concentration to slip. The Visuddhimagga mentions four factors that naturally calm the breath: reflection, mindfulness, attention, and observation. So at this stage, simply resolve to let the breath be calm, then keep focusing on it. Practicing this way, you'll find the breath becoming calmer and more subtle. At that point, whether long or short, the breath remains your continuous focus. This means the three stages—long and short breath, whole breath, and subtle breath—can all happen at once. As you keep practicing, the nimitta is likely to appear.

Just before the nimitta appears, many meditators run into difficulties. Most find that the breath becomes extremely subtle and faint—they may even think their breathing has stopped. If this happens, stay with your awareness at the point where you could previously feel the breath, and wait for it to return. There are only seven kinds of beings who don't breathe: the dead, a fetus in the womb, someone drowning, someone unconscious, someone in the fourth jhāna, someone in the cessation of perception and feeling (nirodha-samāpatti—a state in which consciousness, mental factors, and mind-born matter temporarily cease), and Brahmā gods. Remind yourself that you're none of these—your mindfulness simply isn't strong enough yet to detect the breath. When the breath goes subtle, don't try to change your breathing to make it more noticeable. The agitation of overexertion will only undermine your concentration. Be aware of the breath as it actually is. If it's unclear, just stay calm, bring up mindfulness, and wait where you could feel it before. When you apply mindfulness and understanding in this way, the breath will return.

The nimitta that arises from ānāpānasati isn't the same for everyone. For some, it's soft—like cotton, teased-out cotton, a current of air, a light like the morning star, a bright ruby or jewel, or a bright pearl. For others, it's rough, like the trunk of a cotton tree or a sharp stick. For still others, it appears as a long rope or thin string, a garland, a wisp of smoke, a spread-out spider web, a thin mist, a lotus, the moon, the sun, lamplight, or a fluorescent light. A nimitta that's pure white like cotton is most likely the uggaha-nimitta (acquired sign), since the acquired sign is usually opaque and not luminous. When the nimitta becomes bright, radiant, and transparent like the morning star, that's the paṭibhāga-nimitta (counterpart sign). A ruby-like nimitta that isn't luminous is the acquired sign; when it becomes bright and glowing, it's the counterpart sign. The same principle applies to nimittas of other shapes and colors. Different meditators see different forms because the nimitta arises from perception (saññā). Before it appears, different meditators hold different perceptions, and so different nimittas arise. Even though the meditation subject is the same—ānāpānasati—the nimitta varies from person to person.

Once you reach this stage, it's crucial not to play with the nimitta, not to let it fade, and not to deliberately change its shape or appearance. If you do, your concentration will stall and the nimitta may vanish. So when the nimitta first appears, don't shift your focus from the breath to the nimitta—if you do, it may disappear. However, if the nimitta becomes stable and the mind naturally settles on it, let it stay there. Forcing the mind away could cost you your concentration. If the nimitta appears far in front of you, don't pay attention to it—it may fade. Instead, keep focusing on the breath at the contact point; the nimitta will drift closer on its own and settle there. Once it appears at the contact point and stays put—when it feels as though the nimitta is the breath and the breath is the nimitta—you can let go of the breath and focus entirely on the nimitta. Making this shift, you'll find your practice deepening.

As you keep your attention on the nimitta, it grows whiter. When it's white as cotton, that's the acquired sign. Resolve to stay calmly focused on it for an hour, two hours, three hours, or more. After one or two hours of concentration on the acquired sign, you'll find it becoming clear, bright, and radiant—this is the counterpart sign. Now resolve to hold the mind on the counterpart sign for an hour, two hours, or three hours, until you succeed.

At this point, you'll attain either access concentration or absorption concentration. Access concentration is the state just short of full jhāna; absorption concentration is jhāna itself. Both take the counterpart sign as their object. The difference is that in access concentration, the jhāna factors haven't yet reached full strength.

Because of this, the life-continuum consciousness (bhavaṅga citta) can still arise during access concentration, and meditators may slip into it. Those who've experienced this often say everything has stopped—and may even mistake it for Nibbāna. In reality, the mind hasn't ceased; the meditator simply lacks the sensitivity to detect it, because the life-continuum consciousness is extremely subtle. To avoid falling into it and to keep deepening your concentration, you need to rally the five spiritual faculties—faith, effort, mindfulness, concentration, and wisdom—anchoring the mind firmly on the counterpart sign (paṭibhāga nimitta). You need effort to keep returning your awareness to the sign again and again; you need mindfulness so you don't lose it; and you need wisdom to see it clearly.

Balancing the Five Spiritual Faculties

The five faculties are five powers that govern the mind, keeping it from wandering off the path of serenity (samatha) and insight (vipassanā) that leads to Nibbāna. The first is faith. Faith means confidence in what is worthy of confidence—faith in the Triple Gem, faith in karmic cause and effect, and above all, faith in the Buddha's enlightenment. Without this right faith, a meditator will give up on practice altogether. Faith in the Buddha's teachings is equally vital: the four paths, the four fruits, Nibbāna, and the doctrinal teachings. These teachings lay out the methods and progressive stages of meditation, so at this stage, deep confidence in them is essential.

Suppose someone wonders, "Can you really attain jhāna just by watching the breath?" or "Is it really true that the sign that looks like white cotton is the preparatory sign (uggaha nimitta), and the one that looks like clear ice or glass is the counterpart sign?" If thoughts like these linger, they harden into a conviction: "No one can attain jhāna in this day and age." With that view, faith in the Dhamma fades, and meditation practice is abandoned. So anyone practicing ānāpānasati must have strong, unwavering faith. They should think: "If I practice systematically, following the teachings of the fully enlightened Buddha, I will definitely attain jhāna."

However, if faith in the object of confidence—in this case, the ānāpāna meditation subject—becomes too strong, then the faith faculty's function of decisive conviction (adhimokkha) overpowers everything. The wisdom faculty loses its clarity, and the remaining faculties—effort, mindfulness, and concentration—all weaken. Effort can no longer rally the associated mental factors and hold them on the sign; mindfulness can no longer keep the sign firmly in view; concentration can no longer settle the mind on the sign without distraction; and wisdom can no longer penetrate it. Because wisdom can't discern the sign, it can't support faith—and so faith itself weakens.

If the effort faculty is too strong, the other faculties—faith, mindfulness, concentration, and wisdom—can't perform their respective functions of conviction, recollection, non-distraction, and penetration. Excessive effort keeps the mind from settling calmly on the sign, which also means that three of the seven enlightenment factors—tranquillity (passaddhi), concentration, and equanimity (upekkhā)—aren't strong enough. The same holds true in reverse: if concentration or wisdom is excessive, that too creates problems.

The balance between faith and wisdom, and between concentration and effort, is praised by all the Noble Ones. When faith outstrips wisdom, you get blind faith—a person who believes in and worships things lacking real benefit or substance. They might, for instance, put their faith in figures revered outside orthodox Buddhism: creator gods, spirits, guardian deities, and the like. When wisdom outstrips faith, you get a clever cynic—someone who doesn't actually practice but spends all day critiquing and judging. Such people are as hard to cure as a patient who's made themselves sick by overmedicating.

But when faith and wisdom are in balance, you place your confidence in what is truly worthy. You have faith in the Triple Gem and in the law of kamma, and you're certain that practicing in line with the Buddha's teachings, you'll experience the counterpart sign and attain jhāna. Practicing with that faith while using wisdom to penetrate the sign—this is what balance looks like.

Likewise, if concentration is strong but effort is weak, the mind tends toward sluggishness, and laziness takes over. If effort is strong but concentration is weak, the mind tends toward restlessness, and agitation takes over. Only when concentration and effort are balanced can the mind steer clear of both torpor and restlessness and reach jhāna.

For those practicing serenity meditation, strong faith is crucial. If they think, "If I cultivate concentration on the counterpart sign, I will definitely attain jhāna"—then through the power of that faith, together with steady focus on the sign, they will. Concentration is, after all, the primary foundation of jhāna. For insight meditators, a strong wisdom faculty is especially fitting. When wisdom is strong, they can penetrate the three characteristics—impermanence, suffering, and non-self—and gain the understanding that realizes them directly. Worldly jhāna arises when concentration and wisdom are balanced. The Buddha taught that both must be cultivated together, because supramundane jhāna too arises only from that balance.

No matter which pair you're balancing—faith and wisdom, concentration and effort, concentration and wisdom—the mindfulness faculty is always needed. It applies in every situation, because mindfulness protects the mind: it keeps the mind from spiraling into restlessness when faith, effort, or wisdom run too hot, and from sinking into laziness when concentration runs too cold. Mindfulness is needed everywhere, the way salt is needed in every dish, the way a prime minister is needed to manage all of a king's affairs. That's why the ancient commentaries record: "The Blessed One said: 'Mindfulness is needed in all meditation subjects.'"

Why? Because during practice, mindfulness is the mind's refuge and its protector. It's a refuge because it helps the mind reach sublime heights it has never touched or even imagined—without mindfulness, no transcendent state is possible. And it's a protector, keeping the meditator from losing their object. That's why when a meditator examines mindfulness with insight knowledge, they see its defining quality: it safeguards both the meditation object and the meditator's own mind. Without mindfulness, there's no way to rouse the mind forward or rein it back. That's the reason the Buddha said mindfulness applies in every situation. (See also Visuddhimagga, Chapter IV, §49; Mahāṭīkā, Vol. 1, p. 150.)

Balancing the Seven Factors of Enlightenment

If a meditator wishes to reach jhāna through ānāpāna meditation, balancing the seven factors of enlightenment is just as important. They are:

1. Mindfulness (sati): remembering the counterpart sign and continually discerning it;
2. Investigation of phenomena (dhammavicaya): thoroughly understanding the sign;
3. Effort (viriya): striving to unify and balance all the enlightenment factors on the sign—especially working to strengthen investigation and effort themselves;
4. Joy (pīti): the gladness that arises in the mind when experiencing the sign;
5. Tranquillity (passaddhi): the stillness of mind and mental factors when the sign is their object;
6. Concentration (samādhi): one-pointedness (ekaggatā) on the sign;
7. Equanimity (upekkhā): the mind's balanced evenness, neither overexcited nor withdrawing from the sign.

The meditator must cultivate and balance all seven. When effort flags, the mind drifts away from the meditation object. At that point, don't bolster tranquillity, concentration, and equanimity—instead, strengthen investigation, effort, and joy, so the mind rouses itself again. But when effort is excessive and the mind grows restless and scattered, don't strengthen investigation, effort, and joy—turn instead to tranquillity, concentration, and equanimity, to settle and calm the agitated mind. This is how you balance the five spiritual faculties and the seven factors of enlightenment.

Attaining Jhāna

When the five spiritual faculties—faith, effort, mindfulness, concentration, and wisdom—are fully developed, concentration surpasses access concentration and reaches full absorption (appanā jhāna). Once jhāna is attained, the mind rests on the counterpart sign without interruption—sometimes for hours, an entire night, or a whole day.

After the mind has stayed continuously on the sign for an hour or two, try to identify the place in the heart where the mind-door arises—that is, the life-continuum consciousness (bhavaṅga citta) and its physical base, the heart basis (hadayavatthu). The life-continuum consciousness is bright and luminous; the commentaries identify it as the mind-door. If you keep practicing this way, you'll eventually be able to discern both the mind-door arising dependent on the heart basis and the counterpart sign appearing at that mind-door.

Once you can do this, try identifying the five jhāna factors one at a time. Keep practicing, and eventually you'll be able to discern all five simultaneously. The five jhāna factors are:

1. Applied thought (vitakka): directing the mind onto the counterpart sign;
2. Sustained thought (vicāra): keeping the mind steadily invested in the sign;
3. Joy (pīti): delight in the sign;
4. Pleasure (sukha): the pleasant feeling or happiness experienced with the sign;
5. One-pointedness (ekaggatā): unified focus on the sign.

Taken together, these factors constitute jhāna.

When you first begin practicing jhāna, spend your time settling into it for long stretches rather than trying to identify the factors too soon. You should also cultivate the five masteries of the first jhāna:

1. Mastery of advertence: the ability to identify the jhāna factors after emerging;
2. Mastery of entry: the ability to enter jhāna whenever you wish;
3. Mastery of abiding: the ability to remain in jhāna for as long as you've predetermined;
4. Mastery of emergence: the ability to emerge at the predetermined time;
5. Mastery of reflection: the ability to reflect on and identify the jhāna factors.

Advertence and reflection occur within the same mind-door cognitive process. Advertence is carried out by the mind-door adverting consciousness (manodvārāvajjana), which takes the jhāna factors as its object. Reflection is performed by the four, five, six, or seven impulsion consciousnesses (javana) that arise immediately afterward, taking that same object.

In the Aṅguttara Nikāya (the Mountain Bull Sutta), the Buddha cautioned the bhikkhus not to attempt the second jhāna until they'd fully mastered the five masteries of the first. He explained that if a meditator rushes ahead to the second jhāna before fully mastering the first, they'll lose the first jhāna—and fail to reach the second. Both will slip away.

Once you've mastered the five masteries of the first jhāna, you can move on to the second. First, enter the first jhāna. After emerging, reflect on the drawbacks of the first jhāna and the advantages of the second: the first jhāna is still close to the five hindrances, and its factors of applied and sustained thought are coarse, making it less peaceful than the second jhāna, which is free of them. Forming the intention to drop those two factors and keep only joy, pleasure, and one-pointedness, return your attention to the counterpart sign. In this way you'll attain the second jhāna, endowed with joy, pleasure, and one-pointedness. Then practice the five masteries of the second jhāna.

When that's accomplished and you wish to progress to the third jhāna, reflect on the drawbacks of the second and the advantages of the third: the second jhāna is still close to the first, and its joy factor is coarse, making it less peaceful than the third, which is free of joy. After emerging from the second jhāna and reflecting in this way, generate the intention to attain the third jhāna and return your attention to the counterpart sign. In this way you'll attain the third jhāna, endowed with pleasure and one-pointedness. Then practice the five masteries of the third jhāna.

When that's accomplished and you wish to progress to the fourth jhāna, reflect on the drawbacks of the third and the advantages of the fourth: the pleasure factor of the third jhāna is coarse, making it less peaceful than the fourth, which is free of pleasure. After emerging from the third jhāna and reflecting in this way, generate the intention to attain the fourth jhāna and return your attention to the counterpart sign. In this way you'll attain the fourth jhāna, endowed with equanimity and one-pointedness. Then practice the five masteries of the fourth jhāna.

Upon entering the fourth jhāna, breathing stops completely. This completes the fourth stage of ānāpāna meditation: "'Stillling the bodily formation, I breathe in,' thus he trains; 'Stillling the bodily formation, I breathe out,' thus he trains." This stage actually begins before the counterpart sign arises; as concentration deepens through the four jhānas, the breath grows progressively calmer and subtler—until, in the fourth jhāna, it ceases altogether.

After a meditator has reached the fourth jhāna through ānāpāna meditation and mastered the five masteries, when the light born of concentration blazes bright and radiant, they may, at their own discretion, turn to insight meditation (vipassanā). Alternatively, they may continue cultivating other serenity meditation practices (samatha).