“Mindfulness” is a big word, in the meditative practices, and there are a million definitions for it. It is used in all sorts of different ways. So it makes sense to consider what Buddha was actually talking about.
We may as well look over some of the common uses of the word, because I’ve heard everything.
In Japanese-style Zen, sorry to say, “Mindfulness” is used to describe how someone should behave in a monastery, with strict respect to the forms of the resident master. So a master, or a head monk will often say something like “look at that candle! It is supposed to be to the left of the incense! Be more mindful!!!”
I lived for years in Zen monasteries around the world – 8 of them. In Zen, I have actually never heard the word “mindfulness” used any other way. Always, Zen masters and their monks are telling their students to be “mindful”, meaning extremely careful, about some arbitrary form of the practice.
Now this is a laughably shallow definition – albeit one supported by Japanese Zen hero Dogen, who equated perfect enlightenment with an absolute submittal to (his) hierarchical monastic form. So you are “mindful” if you do your three bows to the master in a certain manner – not too fast, not too slow. Scratching your ear while bowing is, of course, not “mindful”.
But this is obviously not what Buddha was talking about. The many ways anyone can refute those who advance this theory of “mindfulness” are so rock simple that they come off sounding arrogant and inflammatory, and Zen students get angry.
So, it is best to say nothing and just dismiss the Zen definition.
But there are other definitions, outside of Zen.
In the Theravaden tradition, and in the Goenka Vipassana tradition, “mindfulness” is its own practice, holding somewhat different form, in each. For both, the “Mindfulness” practice involves careful concentration on the corporeal body – its actions and/or sensations.
If you ask “why?” everywhere you go (which is something that I enjoy doing, just to see how a “master” will answer – almost always, they will not) you will get only a couple of different theories.
The late Mr. Goenka, who calls his practice Vipassana, has his own definition, which I have never heard in a Vipassana meditation retreat other than those of Mr. Goenka’s (or his followers).
In my view, Mr. Goenka’s definition, like the Zen definition, is sufficiently insane to be dismissed on first thought. It involves sharpening the mind to bodily sensation, under Mr. Goenka’s promise that, once the mind attains sufficient focus – a level that (as Mr. Goenka explains) brings one to subatomic sensory precision -- one then becomes a Buddha. Mr. Goenka speaks very little of compassion, but he does talk about morality. Somehow, such keen focus on one’s personal collection of protons and neutrons, according to Mr. Goenka, results in a spontaneous adoption of Buddhist morality.
Insane. Sorry.
The Theravaden definition is the most common, and the one you hear most in other meditative forms (like Yoga). Theravadens claim that meditating on the actions of the body, (while, for example, walking extremely slowly) helps maintain a concentrated meditative state, keeping our minds from wandering into past hurts, future expectations, pretty ladies, and so on. By carefully controlling our actions, and by keeping our attention on what our body is doing at the present moment, we deepen our meditative state. We remain “in the moment”, helping us on our way to “insight”.
This definition makes some sense, in that application of this “mindfulness” may be a reasonable means of maintaining meditative focus during retreat, and one may indeed extend this practice to other activities, such as eating breakfast, or brushing teeth.
There are proven benefits of this practice, too. So says the new generation of psychotherapists and health researchers. Much has been written about the (reportedly) age-old practice of “Mindfulness”.
So you may as well stop reading here, because we’ve found the accepted definition, and there doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with it. It is, universally, the most common definition, and its popularity, as a practice, is growing, extending well beyond the boundaries of the “spiritual” traditions.
But, in case anyone wants to hear a retort, I am going to list my problems with this definition. I have three main problems with it.
The first one is something that I can’t talk about much, except to say that meditating on the corporeal body isn’t a good idea. Sit, find the root of consciousness, and decide for yourself if it is a good idea. All I can say is that I promise you it isn’t.
Secondly, given the central importance of this “body watching” practice in many traditions, it has a remarkable distance from any notion of compassion, or compassionate action. On the contrary, it is possible that its adoption may take one’s attention in quite the opposite direction.
For example, I have a recurring conversation. There are horrible stories everywhere, in the “spiritual” centers. Here too, in Thailand. When these stories come up, I often ask others what they would have done, if they were there at the time of the incidents, and if they knew about them.
In the spiritual centers, I have never heard anybody say “I’d call a meeting to talk about it” or “I’d call the cops” or anything like this. I hear a lot of answers that involve things like “practicing right action” and so on.
On many, many occasions, I get answers beginning like “Perhaps the universe has a plan that I am unaware of. Perhaps it was the womens’ karma…” and going on to emphasize the importance of continued focus on the “self”.
I consider this a sickness in the religions and traditions. This “always focus on me” practice seems to promote a reverence of inaction, which is part of why you see so many people hurt, or taken advantage of.
That is just not healthy.
Third, the body-watching definition of “mindfulness” is, by definition, an exercise of control.
For those who claim “no self”, as many Buddhist teachers do, you can ask if this definition of mindfulness makes sense. After all, who is controlling, and what is controlled?
And, looked at another way:
Best case – very best case, what might we hope for, from our practice? Where does it lead? What will we be like? Where will the promised (by the masters) transformation lead us?
1) To a state of perfect self-control? or
2) To a state of spontaneous, compassionate being and action, devoid of thoughts of control over the “self” (or for that matter, over others).
The truth is, most “spiritual” masters do a pretty good job of the first choice. Most exhibit remarkable control over their actions (well, at least in public…) and this is often an impressive sight.
Yoga masters take it further still, with impressive displays of physical strength and flexibility.
But, obviously, 1) and 2) are very different things.
One might even call them opposite outcomes.
This just means that it is important to take care with whichever definition of “mindfulness” one wishes to accept, as nobody would wish to practice something that would lead them in a funny direction. It just doesn’t make sense to “practice” something that is not reflected in the (eventual) outcome.
In my view, there is no merit, at all, to 1), and there is no reason to revere someone who has achieved an advanced state of self-control. Inherent in such a being, necessarily, is ideology, and judgement. Also inherent in such a being is a mind that is pulled in two directions, else why the need to control?
On the other hand, 2) presents a natural, compassionate being, transformed from one who was less so. It is a state devoid of ideology, and, therefore, a state of diminished judgement.
That sounds right on, to me.
So on to my personal definition of mindfulness:
I say a reasonable definition of “mindfulness”, as a practice, is the observation of one’s thoughts and feelings. This makes sense, and it is something you can take to your cushion. It doesn’t have anything to do with where you put your toes, or how you chew your food.
With this definition, you take a great responsibility. Where you see anger in yourself, you forgive. Where you see pride, or greed, you change your view. You take all the strength you can muster, for this. You love. You redeem yourself on the cushion. You say you are sorry for your false thoughts.
With this, you change how you see.
You therefore change how you behave, as a consequence.
You lose your ideologies. You lose your religions. You lose the thought-ideas you once imposed on others. You lose your shoulds and shouldn'ts.
You progress toward 2).
Your life has more feeling to it, and more immediacy.
You become a better person for everyone you meet.
You are mindful of your thoughts, and, in action, you are mindful of the real needs of others.
We may as well look over some of the common uses of the word, because I’ve heard everything.
In Japanese-style Zen, sorry to say, “Mindfulness” is used to describe how someone should behave in a monastery, with strict respect to the forms of the resident master. So a master, or a head monk will often say something like “look at that candle! It is supposed to be to the left of the incense! Be more mindful!!!”
I lived for years in Zen monasteries around the world – 8 of them. In Zen, I have actually never heard the word “mindfulness” used any other way. Always, Zen masters and their monks are telling their students to be “mindful”, meaning extremely careful, about some arbitrary form of the practice.
Now this is a laughably shallow definition – albeit one supported by Japanese Zen hero Dogen, who equated perfect enlightenment with an absolute submittal to (his) hierarchical monastic form. So you are “mindful” if you do your three bows to the master in a certain manner – not too fast, not too slow. Scratching your ear while bowing is, of course, not “mindful”.
But this is obviously not what Buddha was talking about. The many ways anyone can refute those who advance this theory of “mindfulness” are so rock simple that they come off sounding arrogant and inflammatory, and Zen students get angry.
So, it is best to say nothing and just dismiss the Zen definition.
But there are other definitions, outside of Zen.
In the Theravaden tradition, and in the Goenka Vipassana tradition, “mindfulness” is its own practice, holding somewhat different form, in each. For both, the “Mindfulness” practice involves careful concentration on the corporeal body – its actions and/or sensations.
If you ask “why?” everywhere you go (which is something that I enjoy doing, just to see how a “master” will answer – almost always, they will not) you will get only a couple of different theories.
The late Mr. Goenka, who calls his practice Vipassana, has his own definition, which I have never heard in a Vipassana meditation retreat other than those of Mr. Goenka’s (or his followers).
In my view, Mr. Goenka’s definition, like the Zen definition, is sufficiently insane to be dismissed on first thought. It involves sharpening the mind to bodily sensation, under Mr. Goenka’s promise that, once the mind attains sufficient focus – a level that (as Mr. Goenka explains) brings one to subatomic sensory precision -- one then becomes a Buddha. Mr. Goenka speaks very little of compassion, but he does talk about morality. Somehow, such keen focus on one’s personal collection of protons and neutrons, according to Mr. Goenka, results in a spontaneous adoption of Buddhist morality.
Insane. Sorry.
The Theravaden definition is the most common, and the one you hear most in other meditative forms (like Yoga). Theravadens claim that meditating on the actions of the body, (while, for example, walking extremely slowly) helps maintain a concentrated meditative state, keeping our minds from wandering into past hurts, future expectations, pretty ladies, and so on. By carefully controlling our actions, and by keeping our attention on what our body is doing at the present moment, we deepen our meditative state. We remain “in the moment”, helping us on our way to “insight”.
This definition makes some sense, in that application of this “mindfulness” may be a reasonable means of maintaining meditative focus during retreat, and one may indeed extend this practice to other activities, such as eating breakfast, or brushing teeth.
There are proven benefits of this practice, too. So says the new generation of psychotherapists and health researchers. Much has been written about the (reportedly) age-old practice of “Mindfulness”.
So you may as well stop reading here, because we’ve found the accepted definition, and there doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with it. It is, universally, the most common definition, and its popularity, as a practice, is growing, extending well beyond the boundaries of the “spiritual” traditions.
But, in case anyone wants to hear a retort, I am going to list my problems with this definition. I have three main problems with it.
The first one is something that I can’t talk about much, except to say that meditating on the corporeal body isn’t a good idea. Sit, find the root of consciousness, and decide for yourself if it is a good idea. All I can say is that I promise you it isn’t.
Secondly, given the central importance of this “body watching” practice in many traditions, it has a remarkable distance from any notion of compassion, or compassionate action. On the contrary, it is possible that its adoption may take one’s attention in quite the opposite direction.
For example, I have a recurring conversation. There are horrible stories everywhere, in the “spiritual” centers. Here too, in Thailand. When these stories come up, I often ask others what they would have done, if they were there at the time of the incidents, and if they knew about them.
In the spiritual centers, I have never heard anybody say “I’d call a meeting to talk about it” or “I’d call the cops” or anything like this. I hear a lot of answers that involve things like “practicing right action” and so on.
On many, many occasions, I get answers beginning like “Perhaps the universe has a plan that I am unaware of. Perhaps it was the womens’ karma…” and going on to emphasize the importance of continued focus on the “self”.
I consider this a sickness in the religions and traditions. This “always focus on me” practice seems to promote a reverence of inaction, which is part of why you see so many people hurt, or taken advantage of.
That is just not healthy.
Third, the body-watching definition of “mindfulness” is, by definition, an exercise of control.
For those who claim “no self”, as many Buddhist teachers do, you can ask if this definition of mindfulness makes sense. After all, who is controlling, and what is controlled?
And, looked at another way:
Best case – very best case, what might we hope for, from our practice? Where does it lead? What will we be like? Where will the promised (by the masters) transformation lead us?
1) To a state of perfect self-control? or
2) To a state of spontaneous, compassionate being and action, devoid of thoughts of control over the “self” (or for that matter, over others).
The truth is, most “spiritual” masters do a pretty good job of the first choice. Most exhibit remarkable control over their actions (well, at least in public…) and this is often an impressive sight.
Yoga masters take it further still, with impressive displays of physical strength and flexibility.
But, obviously, 1) and 2) are very different things.
One might even call them opposite outcomes.
This just means that it is important to take care with whichever definition of “mindfulness” one wishes to accept, as nobody would wish to practice something that would lead them in a funny direction. It just doesn’t make sense to “practice” something that is not reflected in the (eventual) outcome.
In my view, there is no merit, at all, to 1), and there is no reason to revere someone who has achieved an advanced state of self-control. Inherent in such a being, necessarily, is ideology, and judgement. Also inherent in such a being is a mind that is pulled in two directions, else why the need to control?
On the other hand, 2) presents a natural, compassionate being, transformed from one who was less so. It is a state devoid of ideology, and, therefore, a state of diminished judgement.
That sounds right on, to me.
So on to my personal definition of mindfulness:
I say a reasonable definition of “mindfulness”, as a practice, is the observation of one’s thoughts and feelings. This makes sense, and it is something you can take to your cushion. It doesn’t have anything to do with where you put your toes, or how you chew your food.
With this definition, you take a great responsibility. Where you see anger in yourself, you forgive. Where you see pride, or greed, you change your view. You take all the strength you can muster, for this. You love. You redeem yourself on the cushion. You say you are sorry for your false thoughts.
With this, you change how you see.
You therefore change how you behave, as a consequence.
You lose your ideologies. You lose your religions. You lose the thought-ideas you once imposed on others. You lose your shoulds and shouldn'ts.
You progress toward 2).
Your life has more feeling to it, and more immediacy.
You become a better person for everyone you meet.
You are mindful of your thoughts, and, in action, you are mindful of the real needs of others.
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