Entering the realm of focused concentration has been such a subjective experience for me. The approach changes from time to time for me, the outcome is highly unplanned, and I am often uncertain where I will go.
There are constant subtle shifts in how I am enveloped in concentration. My heart / mind keeps finding new ways of passing into that arena of deep awareness. Even while I often seem to be moving along a familiar route, no two incursions are exactly the same.
It probably should be no surprise to me that I am hearing different explanations on how to find my way into deep concentration. There have been many schools of thought around how to be mindful, and I think it is because the experience is unique for each individual.
People who have entered deep concentration draw maps for us to explain how to get there and what the experience is like. While there are common patterns, there are many subtle differences. While one teacher may urge joyful movement into these deep realms, others give warnings against the methods they have suggested.
I have pleasantly been a current student of jhanas, the realm of deep concentration. I am noticing that my teachers and commentators have different views and different ways of explaining what jhanas are about. There are common patterns of explaining what the experience of jhanas is like, but the outlines of the pathway and the experience differs from person to person. Each draws a slightly different map of where they have been, where students might go, and what contours shape the jhanas realm.
It is something like asking someone to draw a map of my garden and explain what it is like to walk along the brick paths. Everyone has their own unique version of a walk through my garden. They explain it in different ways, even while it seems to be the same garden.
The realm of concentration seems no different. I am struck how the maps are, after all, an abstraction. The map is not the way. The way is changing, unknown and unpredictable. I may sometimes take refuge and put my trust in someone’s map, but I can only know the way if I walk forward. I walk one foot before the other on ground that is both familiar, and unfamiliar.
I am aware that every meditation sitting has the feeling of a new beginning. The experience is fresh, uncertain, unpromising. Yet I feel like I have somewhat been here before. Trying to repeat a past experience, however, only leads to grasping, and that is neither effective or successful.
There is a basic map that I follow. I clearly outline my intention, I open my senses to my surroundings, I invite my body to be fully present in movement, I notice my place in the midst of my room and in the midst of people who have entered my heart, I surrender myself into a realm of deep feeling, I focus on my breathing.
I always yield to the uncertain flow and undulation of the landscape I occupy. Some experiences are familiar, but they seem to emerge on their own accord. They are invited but not compelled or pushed. There always is a point at which I put the map and familiar practice away, and I trust in a new way to go.
The new convergence of concentration may be subtly new and different, but it is almost always bright, relaxed and full of energy. Typically, a flow of pleasure and joy emerges, often with surprise and without notice.
I have received maps and they are useful and beneficial. However, they are not enough. They are not adequate to take me deeply into the realm of concentration. I think there is another guide.