Wholebody Mindfulness

I’m in the process of a major transition, having completed my separation from the town that I’ve lived in for the last twenty-three years. Hopefully, I will be able to regularly write in this blog from here on.

I’ve been re-reading the Udana, and this translation (by John Ireland) if from that Pali collection:

3.5 Mahāmoggallāna
Thus have I heard. At one time the Lord was staying near Sāvatthī in the Jeta Wood at Anāthapiṇḍika’s monastery. On that occasion the venerable Mahāmoggallāna was sitting cross-legged not far from the Lord, holding his body erect, having mindfulness with regard to the body well established within him.

The Lord saw the venerable Mahāmoggallāna sitting cross-legged not far away, holding his body erect, having mindfulness with regard to the body well established within him.
Then on realising its significance, the Lord uttered on that occasion this inspired utterance:

With mindfulness of the body established,
Controlled over contact’s sixfold base,
A bhikkhu who is always concentrated
Can know Nibbāna for himself.

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Continuing with MN 119, Kāyagatāsati Sutta… In the following passage I took the liberty of replacing the usual “carrying her robe and bowl” with a more neutral reference, “in respect of clothing.”

“Furthermore, seekers, a practitioner is fully aware when going forward or stepping backward. When looking at (something) or looking away – she is fully aware. When moving or extending her limbs – fully aware. In respect of clothing – fully aware. In eating and drinking – fully aware. While chewing and tasting – fully aware. While urinating and defecating – fully aware. Walking, standing, sitting; asleep or awake; speaking or silent – she is fully aware.

As she dwells thus, ardent, diligent and committed, her thoughts about mundane concerns are abandoned and hence the mind becomes inwardly steadied, quieted, unified and collected. In this way a practitioner develops mindfulness of the body.”

Going into hospital this week for a small operation on this body. How fragile, how vulnerable, it is to the illnesses typical of old age. I think of that description by the Buddha of his body before he died. Ananda suggested he stay longer, don’t die now, but the Buddha said:

“Now I am frail, Ananda, old, aged, far gone in years. This is my eightieth year, and my life is spent. Even as an old cart, Ananda, is held together with much difficulty, so the body of the Tathagata is kept going only with supports. It is, Ananda, only when the Tathagata, disregarding external objects, with the cessation of certain feelings, attains to and abides in the signless concentration of mind, that his body is more comfortable.

“Therefore, Ananda, be islands unto yourselves, refuges unto yourselves, seeking no external refuge; with the Dhamma as your island, the Dhamma as your refuge, seeking no other refuge.”

I find that so moving, that he counsels Ananda to take up his practice, at this point.

(By the way, often this and similar passages are rendered as “be a light unto yourselves.” However, I go with Thanissaro’s translation, here: ‘island.’ The ‘island’-translation is not only more likely, but it has phenomenological and psychological implications that are more helpful to our practice. One of the issues met on the path is the unwillingness to feel the separation that comes with increasing differentiation. “Island” raises the issue of ‘independence.’)

Anyhow, all that said, off to hospital to have them cut up this composite body of organs.

So, in the Kāyagatā Sutta, in response to the monks’ discussion, the Buddha expands on the practice of mindfulness of the body. And to begin with he describes a person who accustoms herself to unifying breath and whole-body awareness.

This passage is relatively straight-forward, though translators often leave the phrase, “parimukhaṃ satiṃ upaṭṭhapetvā” unclear (in this and in other suttas, such as the Satipaṭṭhāna Sutta). It’s translated usually as, ‘setting up mindfulness in front of him.’ What can this mean? The scholars don’t know. Some practitioners take it to mean that one should concentrate on the nostrils in breathing meditation. I like the Lord Chalmers translation (1926-27), where he says: the bhikkhu sits at the foot of a tree “with mindfulness as the objective he set before himself.” Of course, we sit down with the intention to be present for our experience.

Chalmers also translates the lines about knowing the length of the breath sensibly: “[the bhikkhu] knows precisely what he is doing when he is inhaling or exhaling a long breath or a short breath.” This instead of the usual “Breathing in long, he understands that he breaths in a long breath.” This last has been taken by some to be an instruction to take long and short breaths deliberately. So, to me, the Chalmers translation makes it clearer.

Notice also that, just as in the Anapanasati Sutta, after the initial simple awareness of the breath, then the attitude of ‘schooling’ the mind (Chalmers expression) comes in. The form of the Pali verbs changes to give the idea of making the effort to teach the mind a skill. The language changes from ‘He knows the breath,’ to ‘He trains thus: I shall breath [in or out] experiencing [such and such].’

I think this means that we take a less passive approach after initially contacting the breath. There is a gentle tending of the will toward (what is for it) a new kind of knowing, a non-habitual knowledge. This, by the way, is best be done without losing our intimate entry into the experience – knowing the whole body from inside the body, not from some detached distance.

So, translating freely and with an adjustment of the usual male pronouns, and translating ‘bhikkhu’ as ‘practitioner’:

The Blessed One said, “Take a practitioner who goes to the forest, or the foot of a tree, or to some empty hut, and who sits crosslegged with her body erect – setting foremost the intention to be mindful, she is ever mindful. She knows if she is breathing in, or if she is breathing out; and she knows if she is breathing a short breath or if she is breathing a long breath. She trains thus: ‘I shall breathe in and breathe out while experiencing the body as a whole. I shall breath in and out, knowing the calming of the bodily activity.’ As she dwells thus, ardent, diligent and committed, her thoughts about household life are abandoned and hence the mind becomes inwardly steadied, quieted, unified and collected. In this way a practitioner develops mindfulness of the body.”

As you sit gently being intimate with your breathing, and then as you intentionally include the whole body in consciousness with the breath, it naturally follows that after a short time there is a change in the body’s condition. It’s traditionally spoken of as the calming of the ‘bodily formations.’ It’s enough to know that this simply means that the body calms down after a period of this kind, whole-body attention.

This opens up new dimensions of bodily-based experience.

Mindfulness of the Body is often underrated. The disbelief or surprise – I imagine, even the skepticism – at this practice and teaching, the teaching of the power of mindfulness of the body, is hinted at in the beginning of the Kāyagatā Sutta, the Mindfulness of the Body Sutta, MN 119. I’m going to see if I can make the time to slowly translate it, with a commentary.

In the beginning of the sutta, the scene is set. This introduction is something like the later scene beginning the short Heart Sutra. The Buddha is meditating, and Avolokitesvara looks into the five skandhas and sees they are empty.

In this earlier Pāli sutta, the Kāyagatā Sutt, the morning almsround has has been completed and the monks are sitting around in the main hall talking after their meal. The Buddha, the Blessed One, is meditating in his hut, and the conversation in the hall turns to discussion of the Buddha’s claims about the power of mindfulness of the body. The monks’ are generally exclaiming, “Amazing! Wonderful! Marvellous! What the Blessed One says about mindfulness of the body is amazing.” One translation has it that they were in awe of the depth to which the Buddha had developed mindfulness of the body. We might well be astonished at the depth of his embodiment. So let’s add that into the atmosphere in the hall, as the Buddha, having risen from his meditation, enters the hall. The one who has seen into the nature of the body, the Blessed One, enters, and the monks go quiet.