As I mentioned in an earlier posting, I recently completed a four-week meditation program. I'd undertaken it partly because I'd just returned from India and hadn't meditated regularly for the three weeks that I was traveling. But I also did it because I like programs--exercise programs, reading programs, cooking programs . . . you choose the adjective and stick the noun "program" behind it, and if I haven't already tried it, I might well give it a try. I guess I like the feeling of progress, of gradually approaching an end point, and then beginning again with a new map, a new plan to go a little further.
The book I used to set up the four weeks, Commit to Sit, outlined a very gradual course of seated and walking meditation. It had originally appeared in an issue of tricycle, and I had seen it then but hadn't undertaken the program. But now it was available in book form, and I couldn't resist trying it. Each week was carefully described and supporting articles were included by recognized authorities on the subject at hand. If you know little to nothing about meditation, this is the perfect place to begin. The articles are very brief, to-the-point, and exceptionally clear and practical. They tell you how to meditate. Period. Most of them were helpful because they answered the very basic questions that both novice and long-term meditators continually confront. Ultimately, of course, your meditation practice is your own, but this book is one of the best ones I've encountered for helping you discover the precise dimensions of that practice.
But I read another book first, a spiritual classic, if you will, and I'd also recommend that you start with this one. The book is by Chogyam Trungpa, one of the first Tibetan lamas to come to America. In 1974, he gave a series of lectures that have been collected and published as The Path is the Goal: A Basic Handbook of Buddhist Meditation. Trungpa was in short, a phenomenon: his English was perfect, his energy level was cosmic, and he made every effort to understand how Westerners think--a daunting task for someone of his background. He died in 1987, leaving behind thousands of students, as well as hundreds of lectures, teachings, meditation centers, books, and one very talented and charismatic son, who is well on his way to becoming an equally powerful teacher and representative of the Kagyu tradition.
The Path is the Goal outlines the simple--but profound--philosophy behind samatha meditation. The first sentence of the book captures nicely the essence of the teachings: "The idea of this particular seminar is to establish a fundamental understanding of the Buddhist approach toward the practice of meditation." And so it does, point by point, question by question. If you have any interest in seeing how one very authoritative and legendary teacher describes the fundamentals of Buddhist meditation practice, you must have a look at this little book.
And finally a book to grow with: Food for the Heart: The Collected Teachings of Ajahn Chah. If you haven't heard of Ajahn Chah, you might want to read a little about him. He comes out of the Thai tradition, and became a recognized meditation master as well as a highly effective and revered teacher. His teachings are simple, profound, and unwaveringly practical. I read this book over a year ago, but it is nearly falling apart now because I have gone back to it frequently. For those of us who have found the Gelugpa tradition to be so attractive, Ajahn Chah's teachings provide a valuable counter-weight as they are immediately accessible, yet deeply illuminating at the same time.
In the following video, you will hear one of Ajahn Chah's students talk about the nature of Chah's accomplishment--he uses the word "arhat," which roughly means "someone who has destroyed all inner obstructions," and he believes that Ajahn Chah achieved this level. You will notice two things about this tradition that differ from the Gelugpas: first, the reliance on the sutras, or the texts that record what the Buddha actually said (you have probably noticed that in Geshe la's classes we have focused on explanations of what the Buddha said and spent little time grappling with the actual words of the Buddha--this is entirely typical of the Gelugpa tradition as it has been transplanted in America for Americans); and second, the idea of faith, which plays a large role in the Thai tradition that Ajahn Chah came from--there are times in extended periods of sitting that faith is the only resource that salvages the meditation session. Or so I have been told . . . At any rate, Food for the Heart amounts to a beautiful gathering of wisdom, and I wouldn't want to be without it.
If you choose to have a look at any of these books, I hope that you enjoy them, and most importantly, that they enrich your practice . . . they are gems, each in their own way.
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