This mind, mendicants, is radiant. But it is corrupted by passing corruptions. An unlearned ordinary person does not truly understand this. So I say that the unlearned ordinary person has no development of the mind.
Accharāsaṅghātavagga: The Chapter on a Finger-Snap (AN 1.51), translation by Ven. Bhikkhu Sujato
Today, I want to explain what is not the development of the mind, not meditation, and what traps exist on this path. The Pali word bhāvanā is usually translated as “meditation,” but it can also be said that bhāvanā means the development of the mind. There are many false views and misunderstandings in the world about what meditation is and what constitutes the development of meditation.
Some say that during meditation they saw a clear light. Someone might claim, “During meditation, I saw the Buddha.” Or someone might say they saw a god or deities. Some claim to see other worlds, their past and future lives, different levels of the mind. Others say that their third eye or chakras open. But all of this is just the mind playing tricks.
Let’s examine what mind games are and what the mind is, and how it works. Mental objects, which can be thoughts, appear in the mind. How do thoughts arise? Usually, they appear as our inner voice, but this is not always the case. For example, you might remember your favorite song, and then you hear not your own voice, but the artist’s voice. Or you might hear the voice of a relative. Similarly, sometimes people hear as if the Buddha or a god is speaking to them, but these are also just thoughts. Thoughts can also appear in the form of sounds or images. For example, if I am sitting and meditating, a school might appear in my mind. I can see it, the faces of my teachers, friends, the schoolyard, and so on — these are also thoughts. You might remember the taste of some food, a smell, or a touch; all of these are also mental objects.
When I recall my school or childhood, these are real, understandable images. We understand that these are thoughts, that these are mental objects. But, suppose I see some unknown beings, something I have never seen before. For example, people living at the bottom of the ocean. What do you think this is? These are fantasies, mind games. These, too, are actually just thoughts.
When we meditate, our mind develops: calmness, concentration, and mindfulness develop. The mind begins to work more actively, and we may start seeing things we have never seen before, such as certain colors, smells, or light. Things we have never seen in the world. But what is this? These are also mental objects. This is not reality — this is the mind playing tricks. This is saṅkhārā, mental formations.
During meditation, the mind can become bored. The mind constantly needs food, and when we are simply sitting and observing the object of mindfulness, there is little food for the mind, so it begins to look for something on its own, to invent, to fantasize. And we must know in advance that these are mind games, because otherwise, we might start having thoughts about this, we might begin to believe in it, become attached. We can get lost there.
I remember my very first retreat. At that time, I was still a layperson. There were five laymen and many women. I remember that one of the men always meditated outside. It was almost always sunny outside, and he sat facing the sun. And after some time, about five days, he came to me and said, “You know, I see light during meditation, a round, moving light.”
Even before the retreat, I had read many books, so I knew a little about meditation, and I immediately told him that he needed to go to the teacher and talk about it. But this person replied that he was embarrassed to approach the teacher and talk about it because he was shy, thinking that the teacher would find out what a high level he had reached. He thought he had reached some high level! That it would be immodest to reveal this to other people — as if it would be a manifestation of his pride. He thought this was a sign of his humility, but in fact, it was quite the opposite. In the Teachings, this is called adhimāna: māna is pride, and adhimāna is great pride, overestimating oneself. It is very difficult for a person to see this in themselves because they think they don’t have it. This person just needed to go and reveal his secret experience to the teacher. The teacher would have corrected him and explained everything: that this is just light, and he needs to let it go and move on.
Then the retreat ended, and this person continued to practice on his own at home. I remember that on Uposatha day, we went to the monastery and took the eight precepts. This person also came to the monastery and told me that he continued to meditate on this light, and now even when he rides his bicycle with his eyes open, he sees this light in front of him. Do you know what happened next? He built himself a small temple, started inviting people, telling their fortunes, and believing that he had some supernatural powers.
Look at how the mind plays with a person. When this person told others about all this, people believed him because he himself believed it: he was talking about his experience! But all of this is just mind games. Our path is long, and this person went the wrong way and got lost. He remained at the very beginning of the path, falling into the trap of false views.
My teacher told me about a monk who was meditating, and at some point, he began to have visions: thousands of monks coming to pay homage to him. An endless procession of people coming to bow to him. These visions gave him no peace. Why do you think he had such visions? He wanted it! This is his mind, desiring it. This is also a mind game. A certain image arose in the mind, and then further streams of thinking developed. These streams of thinking were not in words, but in pictures, images.
Some people see the Buddha during meditation, and after that, they feel immense joy. But in reality, this is not the Buddha; it is their mind. Similarly, any other image, such as a demon, may arise. What happens after that? You might be frightened by this demon. But what did you actually see? You saw your mind, your thoughts, but you were scared by some external object that does not exist. There is even a common belief in the world that meditation is dangerous and it’s better not to engage in it. But this opinion arose because people meditated on their own, thinking that all they needed was solitude, that they could just sit and observe, and from this become a Buddha or attain enlightenment.
Our mind can deceive us in such a way that we may never see it ourselves, which is why we definitely need the Teachings and a good friend or teacher to show us the right path, so we do not get lost and fall into traps.
I have a distant relative who often visited us. When I, already a monk, returned after studying in Russia, he came to me and said that he knew a certain mantra, and no one knew what language it was in. Since by that time I knew several languages, he came to me asking for help to determine what language this mantra was in. He recited it to me, and it was just a jumble of made-up words, words in Pali, Sanskrit, Sinhala, and Tamil. It was just nonsense! But he didn’t believe me because he was convinced that it was a mantra. And people believed him. He went around dispelling spells, doing other things, and people paid him for it. It became his job! But first and foremost, he deceived himself. He doesn’t think that he is deceiving others; he doesn’t understand his own delusions. And at some point, this mind game became profitable for him.
When we meditate, we want to see the world as it is. Our goal is to see reality. Therefore, we constantly observe real things. For instance, when we practice anapanasati (mindfulness of breathing), we observe tactile sensations: it might be a spot under the nose, sensations in the nostrils, or sensations on the upper lip. But some people say they feel the air they breathe moving several meters or even kilometers away from them. If a person begins to observe this, they will be observing not reality but some mental deception, their own fantasy. Reality is simple. Just the sensations in the nostrils, sensations in the body — what is present right now, what is available to our direct experience.
During my very first retreat, at some point, while meditating while walking, I began to feel an immense lightness, as if I was not touching the ground at all. There was such lightness, such joy! What do you think this was? This was pīti — rapture, joy, and passaddhi — tranquility. When such joy arises in the mind, it immediately affects the entire body, and a sense of lightness appears in the body. This is something a person can genuinely feel; it is not a deception, not a fantasy. Was this the development of meditation?
The Teachings explain the qualities that arise during meditation, which can become mental impurities: vipassanupakkilesa, the ten types of impurities or distortions of the mind that can occur during the development of insight meditation (vipassanā).
These qualities themselves are not impurities, but they can become qualities that support mental impurities — this is the meaning of the word upakilesa. The danger is that craving and attachment can develop towards these states and qualities, and then they become mental impurities. Moreover, a person may perceive this as the final goal of practice. In that case, these qualities become upakilesas.
One of these qualities is the appearance of light, obhāsa. When a person meditates and a high level of samādhi (concentration, tranquility, one-pointedness) develops in the mind, light appears that is not related to physical phenomena.
Two other qualities are pīti (rapture, joy) and passaddhi (tranquility, lightness). In ordinary life, a person never feels such joy and lightness. When I began to feel them, it was the 10th day of the retreat, the very last day. I remember how the retreat ended, and we went to visit my sick friend. I was walking down the road, thinking that I would lose all of this now. And that’s what happened. After that, I started looking forward to the next retreat to feel it again.
Such joy, such rapture, such lightness — these cannot be obtained in worldly life; they are something immaterial. When I attended the next retreat, I sat and thought that I already knew how to get there, how to achieve it — it seemed like a small task. I sat and tried to repeat that experience, but it no longer appeared. I tried different methods, everything to find again what I had lost. For many years, I suffered like this, searching, thinking that I used to meditate well, but now I couldn’t achieve anything.
The fact that joy and lightness can appear during meditation is normal in itself, but at that time, I didn’t see my own greed. If you don’t know about this in advance, you will never guess that you shouldn’t love these states, shouldn’t become attached to them, and that you need to let them go and move on.
There is also adhimokkha, when a person develops immense saddhā (faith, confidence, trust). This can also lead a person to believe that they have reached the end, that this is the final stage of their practice, and then it becomes an obstacle.
The next quality is paggaha (effort, striving). When a person is constantly trying hard. Even this quality can become supportive of impurities. It can lead to a great deal of tension.
Next is sukha (happiness). A person may feel pleasant bodily sensations.
Among these qualities, there is also ñāṇa (knowledge). When a person has some knowledge of vipassanā, for example, they know how to analyze nāmarūpa, or they know about the five aggregates, the six sense bases, the eighteen elements. They first acquired this knowledge and then developed it during insight meditation. But a person may perceive this knowledge as “I,” as their achievements, and fail to see anattā — the non-self.
There is also upekkhā (equanimity, serenity). This is one of the Brahmaviharas, something we should strive for, something we should develop, but even this quality can become an upakilesa.
Next is upaṭṭhāna (concentration, awareness, presence). Sometimes a person develops such a high level of presence that they wake up mindfully, do everything mindfully, and fall asleep mindfully. But even at this level of presence, a person may not see that they begin to consider this as their self, and how pride arises because of this. This is exactly what a person might not see, and then presence becomes an upakilesa — a quality that supports impurities.
The next such quality is nikanti (subtle craving for practice, for vipassanā).
We need to understand that these qualities do not manifest at the initial level of practice. However, it is important for us to understand that even such wholesome qualities can become upakilesa. We need to be mindful and perceive our mind, our qualities, and even our wisdom not as “I,” but as the result of something. Perceive everything impersonally. We need to let go of all this and move on.
When you meditate, images, pictures, and strange experiences will inevitably arise in your mind. The mind becomes stronger, brighter, and more powerful, so some thoughts and images may be perceived differently, more clearly and vividly than usual. Let them go. Don’t be afraid; there is nothing frightening there. These thoughts can’t harm you. All these thoughts are temporary; they come for a time and will go away the same way. Whatever good experiences you have, whatever joy develops, understand immediately: this is temporary, it will all go away. Do not get attached to it. If you become attached to it, you fall into a trap. Or if you start seeing images, light, sounds, anything, think immediately: I am not seeing the external world; I am seeing my mind; these are mental objects.
So, what is the development of the mind? If a person sees that they have fewer attachments, less greed, and less ill-will in their life, this will be the development of the mind. If you have more calmness, mindfulness, and patience, this will be the development of the mind. Another aspect of the development of the mind is wisdom.
How do we recognize wisdom? We begin to understand what to do and how to think. Wisdom comes with experience. We will understand how not to think, how streams of thoughts lead to anger, aversion, and greed. The Buddha says that if a person knows their mind filled with anger as a mind filled with anger, that is wisdom. Or if a person, while being in ignorance, knows that they are in ignorance, that is wisdom. If a person with a mind filled with greed knows their mind as a mind filled with greed, that is wisdom.
And how does a bhikkhu abide contemplating mind as mind? Here a bhikkhu understands mind affected by lust as affected by lust, and mind unaffected by lust as unaffected by lust. He understands mind affected by hate as affected by hate, and mind unaffected by hate as unaffected by hate. He understands mind affected by delusion as affected by delusion, and mind unaffected by delusion as unaffected by delusion.
Mahāsatipaṭṭhānasutta: The Foundations of Mindfulness (MN 10),
translation by Ven. Nyanamoli Thera
It often happens that people are tormented by regrets about past actions, feeling that they did something wrong. Regret is actually an unwholesome quality, and it needs to be let go. But why can’t people let it go? They consider it a wholesome quality, something they should have, something they need. They start to see their “self” in it. One needs to develop wisdom, to see this clinging, to see that there is suffering there too, that it is also impersonal. And let it go.
For now, simply observe your mind, your thinking. Start to see greed, anger, aversion, compassion, and kindness in it. Start to see them. If you see this in yourself, it is wisdom. It is easy to see this in others, but very difficult to see it in yourself. If you observe your mind, wisdom will develop in you.
Right efforts also develop: we strive to eliminate the impurities of the mind. Wholesome qualities of the mind develop: kindness, compassion, faith, clarity of mind, doubts disappear. There are many such wholesome qualities. By focusing on this, you can understand if you are going in the right direction. And if you want to practice meditation seriously, you absolutely need to find a teacher and trust them. Look at how many people fall into the traps of the mind because they don’t share their experiences with their teachers.
I wish you success in your practice; may this knowledge help you avoid all the traps and achieve liberation!
“The straight way” that path is called,
And “fearless” is its destination.
The chariot is called “unrattling,”
Fitted with wheels of wholesome states.
The sense of shame is its leaning board,
Mindfulness its upholstery;
I call the Dhamma the charioteer,
With right view running out in front.
One who has such a vehicle —
Whether a woman or a man —
Has, by means of this vehicle,
Drawn close to Nibbāna.
Accharāsutta: Nymphs (SN 1.46),
translation by Ven. Bhikkhu Bodhi
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