With regards to the painting above, I read a better description
in this commentary of the painting from http://blog.tsemtulku.com/tsem-tulku-rinpoche/great-lamas-masters/the-perfection-of-concentration-by-geshe-rabten-rinpoche.html
Concentration is important in both Dharma practice and ordinary
life. The Tibetan word for the practice of concentration is zhi-nay
(zhi-gNas). Zhi means peace and nay means to dwell; zhi-nay, then,
is dwelling in peace or being without busyness.
If we do not carefully watch the mind it may seem that it is
peaceful. However, when we really look inside we see that this is
not so. Mind does not rest on the same object for even a single
second. It flutters around like a banner flapping in the wind. No
sooner does mind settle on one object than it is carried away by
another. Even if we live in a cave on a high mountain the mind
moves incessantly. When we are on the top of a tall city building
we can look down and see how busy the city is, but when we are
walking on the streets we are aware of only a fraction of the
busyness. Similarly, if we do not investigate correctly we will
never be aware of how busy the mind really is.
Primary consciousness itself is pure and stainless, but gathered
around it are fifty-one secondary mental elements, some of which
are positive, some negative and some neutral. Of these secondary
elements, in ordinary beings, the negative ones are stronger than
the positive. Most people never attempt to gain control of these
secondary mental elements; if they did they would be amazed at how
difficult such a task is. Because the negative elements have
dominated the mind for countless lifetimes, overcoming them will
require tremendous effort. Yet zhi-nay cannot be experienced until
they have been totally subdued.
Thus the busyness of the mind is mind-produced. This means that
a mental rather than a physical effort is required to eliminate it.
Nonetheless, when engaging in an intensive effort to develop
zhi-nay it is important to make use of certain secondary factors of
a physical nature. For example, the place where one practises
should be clean, quiet, close to nature and pleasing to the mind.
And friends that visit should be peaceful and virtuous. One’s body
should be strong and free from disease.
The practice of concentration requires sitting in your proper
posture, to which there are seven points:
1. Legs crossed and feet resting on the thighs, with soles
turned upward. If this causes too much pain, it distracts from
concentration. In which case, sit with the left foot tucked under
the right thigh and the right foot resting on the left
thigh.
2. The trunk set as straight and erect as possible.
3. Arms formed into a bow-shape, with elbows neither resting
against the sides of the body nor protruding outward. The right
hand rests in the left palm, with the thumbs touching lightly to
form an oval.
4. The neck straight but slightly hooked, with the chin drawn
in.
5. Eyes focused downward at the same angle as the line of the
nose.
6. Mouth and lips relaxed, neither drooping nor shut
tightly.
7. Tongue lightly held against the palate.
These are the seven points of the correct meditational posture.
Each is symbolic of a different stage of the path. Also, there is a
practical purpose in each of the seven:
1. Having the feet crossed keeps the body in a locked position.
One may eventually sit for a long period of time in meditation,
even weeks or months in a single sitting. With legs locked, one
will not fall over.
2. Holding the trunk straight allows maximum functioning of the
channels carrying the vital energies throughout the body. The mind
rides on these energy currents, so keeping the channels working
well is very important to successful meditation.
3. The position of the arms also contributes to the flow of the
energy currents.
4. The position of the neck keeps open the energy channels going
to the head and prevents the neck from developing cramps.
5. If the eyes are cast at too high an angle the mind easily
becomes agitated, if at too low an angle the mind quickly becomes
drowsy.
6. The mouth and lips are held like this to stabilize the
breath. If the mouth is held too tightly shut, breathing is
obstructed whenever the nose congests. If the mouth is help open
too widely, breathing becomes too strong, increasing the fire
element and raising the blood pressure.
7. Holding tongue against the palate avoids an excessive
build-up of saliva and keeps the throat from parching. Also,
insects will not be able to enter the mouth or throat.
These are only the most obvious reasons for the seven points of
the meditational posture. The secondary reasons are far too
numerous to be dealt with here. It should be noted that the nature
of the energy currents of some people does not permit them to use
this position and they must be given an alternative. But this is
very rare.
Although merely sitting in the vajra posture produces a good
frame of mind, this is not enough. The main work, that done by the
mind, has not yet even begun. The way to remove a thief who has
entered a room is to go inside the house and throw him out, not to
sit outside and shout at him. If we sit on top of a mountain and
our mind constantly wanders down to the village below, little is
achieved.
Concentration has two enemies, mental agitation, or busyness,
and mental torpor, or numbness.
Generally, agitation arises from desire. An attractive object
appears in the mind and the mind leaves the object of meditation to
follow it.
Torpor arises from subtle apathy developing within the mind.
In order to have firm concentration these two obstacles must be
eliminated. A man needs a candle in order to see a painting which
is on the wall of a dark room. If there is a draught of wind the
candle will flicker too much for the man to be able to see properly
and if the candle is too small its name will be too weak. When the
flame of the mind is not obstructed by the wind of mental agitation
and not weakened by the smallness of torpor it can concentrate
properly upon the picture of the meditation object.
In the early stages of the practice of concentration mental
agitation is more of a hindrance than torpor. The mind is
continually flying away from the object of concentration. This can
be seen by trying to keep the mind fixed on the memory of a face.
The image of the face is soon replaced by something else.
Halting this process is difficult, for we have built the habit
of succumbing to it over a long period of time and are not
accustomed to concentration. To take up the new and leave behind
the old is always hard. Yet, because concentration is fundamental
to all forms of higher meditation and to all higher mental
activity, one should make the effort.
Mental agitation is overcome principally by the force of
mindfulness and torpor by attentive application. In the diagram
representing the development of zhi-nay there is an elephant. The
elephant symbolizes the meditator’s mind. Once an elephant is
tamed, he never refuses to obey his master and he becomes capable
of many kinds of work. The same applies to the mind. Furthermore, a
wild and untamed elephant is dangerous, often causing terrible
destruction. Just so, the untamed mind can cause any of the
sufferings of the six realms.
At the bottom of the diagram depicting the development of
concentration the elephant is totally black. This is because at the
primary stage of the development of zhi-nay mental torpor pervades
the mind.
In front of the elephant is a monkey representing mental
agitation. A monkey cannot keep still for a moment but is always
chattering and fiddling with something, being attracted to
everything.
The monkey is leading the elephant. At this stage of practice
mental agitation leads the mind everywhere.
Behind the elephant trails the meditator, who is trying to gain
control of the mind. In one hand he holds a rope, symbolic of
mindfulness, and in the other he holds a hook, symbolic of
alertness.
At this level the meditator has no control whatsoever over his
mind. The elephant follows the monkey without paying the slightest
attention to the meditator. In the second stage the meditator has
almost caught up with the elephant.
In the third stage the meditator throws the rope over the
elephant’s neck. The elephant looks back, symbolizing that here the
mind can be somewhat restrained by the power of mindfulness. At
this stage a rabbit appears on the elephant’s back. This is the
rabbit of subtle mental torpor, which previously was too fine to be
recognized but which now is obvious to the meditator.
In these early stages we have to apply the force of mindfulness
more than the force of mental attentive application for agitation
must be eliminated before torpor can be dealt with.
In the fourth stage the elephant is far more obedient. Only
rarely does he have to be given the rope of mindfulness.
In the fifth stage the monkey follows behind the elephant, who
submissively follows the rope and hook of the meditator. Mental
agitation no longer heavily disturbs the mind.
In the sixth stage the elephant and monkey both follow meekly
behind the meditator. The meditator no longer needs even to look
back at them. He no longer has to focus his attention in order to
control the mind. The rabbit has now disappeared.
In the seventh stage the elephant is left to follow of its own
accord. The meditator does not have to give it either the rope of
mindfulness or the hook of attentive application. The monkey of
agitation has completely left the scene. Agitation and torpor never
again occur in gross forms and even subtly only occasionally.
In the eighth stage the elephant has turned completely white. He
follows behind the man for the mind is now fully obedient.
Nonetheless, some energy is still required in order to sustain
concentration.
In the ninth stage the meditator sits in meditation and the
elephant sleeps at his feet. The mind can now indulge in effortless
concentration for long periods of time, even days, weeks or
months.
These are the nine stages of the development of zhi-nay. The
tenth stage is the attainment of real zhi-nay represented by the
meditator calmly riding on the elephant’s back.
Beyond this is an eleventh stage, in which the meditator is
depicted as riding on the elephant, who is now walking in a
different direction. The meditator holds a flaming sword. He has
now entered into a new kind of meditation called vipasyana, or
higher insight: (Tibetan: Lhag-mthong). This meditation is
symbolized by his flaming sword, the sharp and penetrative
implement that cuts through to realization of Voidness.
At various points in the diagram there is a fire. This fire
represents the effort necessary to the practice of zhi-nay. Each
time the fire appears it is smaller than the previous time.
Eventually it disappears. At each successive stage of development
less energy is needed to sustain concentration and eventually no
effort is required. The fire reappears at the eleventh stage, where
the meditator has taken up meditation on voidness.
Also on the diagram are the images of food, cloth, musical
instruments, perfume and a mirror. They symbolize the five sources
of mental agitation, i.e. the five sensual objects: those of taste,
touch, sound, smell and sight, respectively.
Most people take the mental image of a Buddha-form their object
of concentration in order to develop zhi-nay. First one must become
thoroughly familiar with the object that one will focus on. This is
done by sitting in front of a statue or drawing of the object for a
few sessions and gazing at it. Then try sitting in meditation,
holding the image of the form in mind without the aid of the statue
or drawing. At first your visualization of it will not be very
clear nor will you be able to hold if for more than a few seconds.
Nonetheless, try to hold the image as clearly and for as long a
period as possible. By persisting you will soon be able to retain
the image for a minute, then two minutes and so forth. Each time
the mind leaves the object apply mindfulness and bring it back.
Meanwhile, continually maintain attentive application to see if
unnoticed disturbances are arising.
Just as a man carrying a bowl full of water down a rough road
has to keep one part of his mind on the water and another part on
the road, in zhi-nay practice one part of the mind must apply
mindfulness to maintain steady concentration and another part must
use attentive application to guard against disturbances. Later,
when mental agitation has somewhat subsided, mindfulness will not
have to be used very often. However, then the mind is fatigued from
having fought agitation for so long and consequently torpor sets
in.
Eventually, a stage comes when the meditator feels tremendous
bliss and peace. This is actually only extremely subtle torpor but
it is often mistakenly taken to be real zhi-nay. With persistence,
this too disappears. The mind gradually becomes more clear and
fresh and the length of each meditation session correspondingly
increases. At this point the body can be sustained entirely by the
mind. One no longer craves food or drink. The meditator can now
meditate for months without a break. Eventually he attains the
ninth stage of zhi-nay, at which level, the scriptures say, the
meditator is not disturbed even if a wall collapses beside him. He
continues to practice and feels a mental and physical pleasure
totally beyond description, depicted in the diagram by a man
flying. Here his body is inexhaustible and amazingly supple. His
mind, deeply peaceful, can be turned to any object of meditation,
just as a thin copper wire can be turned in any direction without
breaking. The tenth stage of zhi-nay—or actual zhi-nay, is
attained. When he meditates it is as though the mind and the object
of meditation become one.
Now the meditator can look deeply into the nature of his object
of meditation while holding all details of the object in his mind.
This gives him extraordinary joy.
Here, looking into the nature of his object of meditation means
that he examines it to see whether or not it is pure, whether or
not it is permanent, what is its highest truth, etc. This is the
meditation known as vipasyana, or higher insight. Through it the
mind gains a deeper perception of the object than it could through
concentration alone.
Merely having zhi-nay gives tremendous spiritual satisfaction;
but not going on to better things is like having built an aeroplane
and then never flying it. Once concentration has been attained, the
mind should he applied to higher practices. On the one hand it has
to be used to overcome karma and mental distortion, and on the
other hand to cultivate the qualities of a Buddha. In order to
ultimately accomplish these goals, the object of meditation that it
takes up must be voidness itself. Other forms of meditation are
only to prepare the mind for approaching voidness. If you have a
torch with the capacity to illuminate anything you should use it to
find something important. The torch of zhi-nay should be directed
at realization of voidness for it is only a direct experience of
voidness which pulls out the root of all suffering.
In the eleventh stage on the diagram two black lines flow out of
the meditator’s heart. One of these represents klesavarana, the
obscurations of karma and mental distortion. The other represents
jneyavarana, the obscurations of the instincts of mental
distortion. The meditator holds the wisdom-sword of vipasyana
meditation, with which he plans to sever these two lines.
Once a practitioner has come close to understanding voidness he
is on his way to the perfection of wisdom. Prajna-paramita, the
ultimate goal of the development of concentration.
Translated by Gonsar Rinpoche. Prepared by Glenn Mullin and
Michael Lewis. Printed in From Tushita, edited and published by
Michael Hellbach, Tushita Editions, 1977.
