Right Concentration: A Practical Guide to the Jhanas

by Leigh Brasington

THE JHĀNAS are eight altered states of consciousness, brought on via concentration, and each yielding a deeper state of concentration than the previous. In teaching the eightfold path, the Buddha defined right concentration to be the jhānas.

I have at times altered these translations, occasionally to make something clearer and often to remove the gender specific he/his, for which I have substituted one/one’s—the Pali is simply third person singular and literally could be he, she, or one. Since this book is written for a general audience, not a male monastic one, and given the centuries of misogynist patriarchy in Buddhism, I am unwilling to write in a way that gives any credence to that particular misunderstanding of the Buddha’s teachings.

This book is based on the jhāna teachings found in the suttas of the Pali canon. Although at times I use phrases like “the Buddha says” and “the Buddha taught,” from a strict scholastic viewpoint, I should be saying something like “suttas say the Buddha says” and “suttas say the Buddha taught.” But that seems overly pedantic; I trust you will know that when I say “the Buddha says,” I’m just indicating what the suttas record the Buddha as saying.

JUNE 4, 1988: It’s forty minutes into the forty-five-minute sitting before lunch—and my back is killing me. I slide forward on the little cushion I’m using as a zafu and my sit bones slip onto the mat, but my tailbone remains on the cushion. The result is instantaneous. My hips are thrust forward, correctly aligning my vertebrae and thus relaxing all the muscle tension in my back, and a huge flood of joyous energy fills my whole being. Immediately two thoughts arise: “I’m gonna always sit like this!” and “This must be what that Dutch woman was talking about when she asked that question ‘What do I do with all this joy I’m getting?’” I was at Ajahn Buddhadasa’s Wat Suan Mokkha in southern Thailand, and they told me there that what I was experiencing was called pīti. I didn’t really understand what was happening—I just knew I liked it and that my motivation for sitting in meditation had changed from doing it because I knew it was good for me, to meditating because I wanted to.

A year later I sat with Ayya for five weeks. I learned jhānas six, seven, and eight and was thoroughly enjoying running ’em up (one to eight) and running ’em back down (eight to one). Not too long after I gained some skill at doing this, I was again in an interview with Ayya, and she said, “Now you must do insight practice in the same sitting after you do the jhānas.” “But it takes me the whole sitting to go up and back down,” I protested. “Do them faster.” Now, Ayya Khema was not someone you wanted to argue with, so I nodded, said, “Yes, ma’am,” and went back to meditating and “doing them faster.” That indeed left time for insight practice. And wow! The flood of insights was mind-blowing. The quantity and quality was unlike anything I’d ever experienced before. My fascination with altered states was gone and replaced with a drive to see what I could learn next. By the end of that retreat, I felt for the first time that I had some idea of the basics of what the Buddha taught.

The word jhāna literally means “meditation.”d It comes from the verb jhāyati, which means “to meditate.” Many times the Buddha would give a dhamma talk and close it by saying, “There are these roots of trees, these empty huts, go meditate (Jhāyati).”3 From this usage of jhāyati, it seems certain that what the Buddha meant by meditation was jhāna practice.

As I discovered back in 1991, the Buddha’s teachings can be divided into three parts: sīla, samādhi, and pañña: ethical conduct, concentration, and wisdom. Or to put it into the vernacular: clean up your act, concentrate your mind, and use your concentrated mind to investigate reality.

The practices the Buddha taught fit neatly into one of the three categories. The preceptse and the brahma-vihāra practices of loving-kindness, compassion, appreciative joy, and equanimity are ethical practices. The brahma-vihāra practices, especially loving-kindness (mettā) practice, can also generate concentration, as do mantra and visualization practices. But most everything else you think of when you hear the word meditation are wisdom practices—practices that are intended to help you “see the way things are” (or perhaps more accurately “what’s actually happening”). But the Buddha makes it abundantly clear4 that your examination of reality should be done with a concentrated mind. And the jhānas are the method he taught over and over again for concentrating the mind.

The Pali word samādhi is usually translated as “concentration,” and that’s not a bad translation. But “concentration” has a furrowed-brow connotation. Perhaps a better translation would be “indistractability,” which unfortunately is not really an English word. What the Buddha is pointing to with the word samādhi is the ability of your mind to not become distracted—the ability of your mind ...

The jhānas are eight altered states of consciousness, brought on via concentration and each yielding more concentration than the previous. This way, as you pass through the jhānas, you stairstep your way to deeper and deeper levels of concentration—that is, you are becoming less and less likely to become distracted.

If you do try out these instructions, do so without expectations! Expectations are the worst thing you can bring on any retreat, and they are especially hindering when trying to learn jhānas.

but only 5 for lay people: To refrain from killing living beings, To refrain from taking that which is not given, To refrain from committing sexual misconduct, To refrain from wrong speech, To refrain from intoxicants.

It’s perfectly OK to respond to unpleasant sense contacts by dealing appropriately with the situation. But in neither case should the sense contacts lead to craving and clinging; if they do, then the sense doors are unguarded, and progress on the spiritual path is hindered.

It’s also necessary to develop habitual mindfulness. We translate the word sati as “mindfulness,” but we need to keep in mind that it is etymologically related to the Sanskrit smṛti, which means “memory.” So being mindful means to remember. And what are we to remember? Be here, now. Pay attention to what’s actually going on in the present moment, in the place where you are currently located. Now, this doesn’t mean you should never plan for the future or learn from the past. But it does mean when doing so, you need to know that is what you are intending to do. In the gradual training, the Buddha suggests that you pay attention to your bodily activities throughout the day. When you are attempting to learn jhānas, this unrelenting mindfulness is the most useful of all the practices4 given in the Satipaṭṭhāna Suttas. This practice itself won’t generate sufficient concentration to enter a jhāna—but it will make it much more likely that any method that you do undertake to generate such concentration is actually effective.e

When you are attempting to learn jhānas, this unrelenting mindfulness is the most useful of all the practices4 given in the Satipaṭṭhāna Suttas. This practice itself won’t generate sufficient concentration to enter a jhāna—but it will make it much more likely that any method t...

These four preliminary practices of keeping the precepts, guarding the senses, maintaining mindfulness, and being content with little are “off-the-cushion” practices that you need to make the four cornerstones of your basic way of life. Without the support of these practices, meditation “on the cushion” usually proceeds in fits and starts, if it proceeds at all. For learning jhānas, it really is necessary to have a quality daily on-the-cushion meditation practice worthy of the word daily, hopefully of at least forty-five minutes and preferably an hour or more. These four practices go a long way to making that possible.

KEY PALI WORDS: sutta discourse, teaching samādhi indistractability, concentration

ON ANY GIVEN RETREAT where jhānas are taught, some people will experience jhānas; some will not. The likelihood of you experiencing a jhāna is inversely proportional to the amount of desire you have for it. After all, the instructions given by the Buddha for practicing the jhānas begin, “Quite secluded from sense desire, secluded from unwholesome states of mind, one enters and remains in the first jhāna”

The likelihood of you experiencing a jhāna is inversely proportional to the amount of desire you have for it. After all, the instructions given by the Buddha for practicing the jhānas begin, “Quite secluded from sense desire, secluded from unwholesome states of mind, one enters and remains in the first jhāna” (DN 2.77). In order to experience a jhāna, it is necessary to generate such seclusion, but actively desiring to experience a jhāna is not being secluded from the unwholesome mind state of craving. The setting aside of unwholesome mind states is known as abandoning the hindrances. There are five of these hindrances, usually listed as sense desire, ill will, sloth and torpor, restlessness and remorse, and doubt. They could also be listed as wanting, aversion, too little energy, too much energy, and doubt. The overcoming of these five unwholesome states of mind is the same as generating access concentration.

The setting aside of unwholesome mind states is known as abandoning the hindrances. There are five of these hindrances, usually listed as sense desire, ill will, sloth and torpor, restlessness and remorse, and doubt. They could also be listed as...

The Pali phrase upacāra-samādhi, which we translate as “access concentration,” does not appear in the suttas.a But it certainly is a useful concept when discussing jhāna practice. The phrase access concentration means concentration strong enough to provide access to the jhānas. It is distinguished from momentary concentration (khaṇika-samādhi), which is less concentrated than access concentration, and from fixed or one-pointed concentration (appanā-samādhi), which is the stronger concentration associated with the jhānas. We could define access concentration as concentration strong enough that no hindrances arise. More practically, we can define access concentration as being fully with the meditation object, and if there are thoughts, they are wispy and in the background and don’t pull you away into distraction.

The general method for generating access concentration is to put your attention on a suitable meditation object,b and when your attention wanders off, gently bring it back. Keep doing this until the distractions fade away and your attention on the object is unwavering. This recognition that you’ve become distracted and the returning your attention to the meditation object should be done without becoming upset that your mind has wandered off yet again.

We are the progeny of countless generations of ancestors who had to not become totally fixated on what they were doing. Those who did become fixated didn’t notice a predator, got eaten, and didn’t reproduce. What we are trying to do goes against millions of years of evolution. Having a wandering mind is just how we are constructed. So it’s no big deal when your mind wanders off; you should actually consider ...

In fact it is extremely helpful if you intentionally relax when you notice you’ve become distracted, and then gently reestablish attention on your meditation object. The mind state you are aimi...

It is not helpful to force your mind to remain fixed on the meditation object. It’s not that this cannot be done; it’s that doing so will generate a mind so tense and tight that it will not have the relaxed diligence necessary for entering the jhānas. The strategy is to place your attention on the meditation object and then be diligent about recognizing when you have become distracted. Drop the distraction; it might be helpful to label the distraction with a one-word label. Labeling helps you disidentify with the thought stream and provides insight into where your mind habitually goes when it becomes distracted. Just remember that the first label th...

If you are paying close attention to the content of your distractions, you will notice that most distractions fall into one (o...

The five hindrances are discussed in detail on the web page “Abandoning the Five Hindrances” at http://rc.leighb.com/more/Abandoning_the_Five_Hindrances.htm, and general methods for working with each of these hindrances are discussed there. If you have an especially persistent, recurring hindrance, the general methods may not work. Sometimes it helps to give that particular distraction a funny name—like maybe “Rumpelstiltskin.” Then you can dialogue with it when it shows up: “It’s you again, Rumpelstiltskin. Well, this is not a good time for you to be showing up; please go away!”

If you have an especially persistent, recurring hindrance, the general methods may not work. Sometimes it helps to give that particular distraction a funny name—like maybe “Rumpelstiltskin.” Then you can dialogue with it when it shows up: “It’s you again, Rumpelstiltskin. Well, this is not a good time for you to be showing up; please go away!” Giving it a funny name robs it of some of its power. Talking to it like a petulant child also weakens its hold.

If you are craving to experience a jhāna, you have the hindrance of wanting. You have to set aside such craving—those expectations—to be able to enter the jhāna. Setting aside expectations is certainly easier said than done. The best advice I can give you is to refrain from what Ayya Khema called “result thinking.” Don’t focus on what you hope or think or expect should happen. Ayya offered a simile that you might find helpful. Suppose you want to drive from your home to, for example, a retreat center many hours away. Suppose someone gives you excellent directions. If the directions start out by saying something like, “When you get to the end of your street, turn right. When you get to such and such a highway, turn left,” it does you no good to start looking for the retreat center as you drive down your street toward the first turn. In order to use the directions properly, you don’t focus on the destination; you determine where you currently are and what you’ll need to do next when you arrive at the place where you change from what you are doing now to somet...

Ayya offered a simile that you might find helpful. Suppose you want to drive from your home to, for example, a retreat center many hours away. Suppose someone gives you excellent directions. If the directions start out by saying something like, “When you get to the end of your street, turn right. When you get to such and such a highway, turn left,” it does you no good to start looking for the retreat center as you drive down your street toward the first turn. In order to use the directions properly, you don’t focus on the destination; you determine where you currently are and what you’ll need to do next when you arrive at the place where you change from what you are doing now to something new. This is exactly how to approach learning the jhānas. Gain an under...

The method for entering the jhānas begins with generating access concentration. You begin by sitting in a comfortable, upright position. It needs to be comfortable, because if there is too much pain, the unwholesome mental state of aversion will naturally develop. You may be able to sit in a way that looks really good, but if your knees are killing you, there will be pain and you will not experience any jhānas. So you need to find some way to sit that is comfortable. But it also needs to be upright and alert, because that tends to get your energy going in a beneficial way that keeps you awake. On the other hand, if you are too comfortable, you might be overcome with sloth and torpor, which is also an unwholesome mental state that of course is totally useless for ...

So the first prerequisite for entering the jhānas is to put your body in a position that you can just leave it in for the length of the me...

Now, this is not to say you cannot move. It may be that you have taken a position and you discover something: “My knee is killing me; I have to move because there is too much aversion.” If you have to move, you have to move. Just be mindful of the moving. The intention to move will be there before the movement. Notice that intention; then move very mindfully, and then resettle yourself into the new position, and notice the mind working to get back to that place of calm that it had before you moved. It is very important that you not move unmindfully.

Generating access concentration can be done in a number of ways. This chapter and the next one will mostly talk about generating it using the breath, a practice known as ānāpānasati. The first word of this Pali compound, ānāpāna, means “in-breath and out-breath,” while the word sati means “mindfulness.” The practice is therefore “mindfulness of breathing.”

The first word of this Pali compound, ānāpāna, means “in-breath and out-breath,” while the word sati means “mindfulness.” The practice is therefore “mindfulness of breathing.” c When practicing ānāpānasati, you put your attention on the physical sensations associated with breathing. It is extremely important to not control the breath in any way—just pay attention to the naturally occurring breathing. If you control the breath, it does make it easier to not become distracted. But it makes it too easy, and you won’t generate sufficient concentration to enter the jhānas.

When practicing ānāpānasati, you put your attention on the physical sensations associated with breathing. It is extremely important to not control the breath in any way—just pay attention to the naturally occurring breathing. If you control the breath, it does make it easier to not become distracted. But it makes it too easy, and you won’t generate sufficient concentration to enter the jhānas. It is probably better if you can observe the physical sensations at the nostrils or on the area between the nose and the upper lip, rather than at the abdomen or elsewhere. It is better because it is more difficult to do; therefore, you have to concentrate more. Since you are trying to generate access concentration, you take something that is doable, though not terribly easy to do, and then you do it. When noticing the natural, uncontrolled breath at the nose, you have to pay attention very carefully. In doing so you will notice the tactile sensations, and then your mind will wander off. Then you’ll bring it back, and it will wander off; then you’ll bring it back, and it will wander off. Eventually though—maybe not the next time you sit in meditation, maybe not even tomorrow or next week o...

It is probably better if you can observe the physical sensations at the nostrils or on the area between the nose and the upper lip, rather than at the abdomen or elsewhere. It is better because it is more difficult to do; therefore, you have to concentrate more. Since you are trying to generate access concentration, yo...

When noticing the natural, uncontrolled breath at the nose, you have to pay attention very carefully. In doing so you will notice the tactile sensations, and then your mind will wander off. Then you’ll bring it back, and it will wander off; then you’ll bring it back, and it will wander off. Eventually though—maybe not the next time you sit in meditation, maybe not even tomorrow or next week or next month, but eventually—you’ll find that the mind locks onto the breath. You’re really with the breath, and the mind is not wandering off. Any thoughts you have are wispy and in the background. The thoughts might be something like, “Wow, I’m really with the breath now,” as opposed to, “When I get to Hawaii, the first thing I’m going to do is . . . .” When the thoughts are just slight, when they’re not really pulling you away and you’re fully with the sensations of the breath, knowing each in-breath and each out-breath—this is the sign that you’ve arrived at access concentration. Whatever method you use to generate access concentration, the sign that you’ve gotten to access concentration is that you are fully present with the object of meditation. So if you are doing mettā (loving-kindne...

Whatever method you use to generate access concentration, the sign that you’ve gotten to access concentration is that you are fully present with the object of meditation. So if you are doing mettā (loving-kindness meditation), you’re just fully there with the feeling of mettā; you’re not getting distracted. If you’re doing the body-sweeping practice, you’re fully there with the sensations in the body as you sweep your attention over the body.d You’re not thinking extraneous thoughts; you’re not planning; you’re not worrying; you’re not angry; you’re not wanting something. You are just fully there with whatever your object is. As you start to become concentrated, you might notice various lights and colors even though your eyes are closed. These are signs that you are starting to get concentrated. There is generally nothing useful that can be don...

When you actually do get quite concentrated, the random blobs and laser light shows will disappear. They might be replaced by a diffused white light, which is a sign of good concentration. It always appears for some people, it never appears for others, and many people find it sometimes appears and sometimes does not appe...

The diffused white light is a sign saying, “Entering Concentration-ville.” Nice; just stay focused on your meditation object!

KEY PALI WORDS: samādhi indistractability, concentration pāmojja gladness, worldly joy pīti glee, rapture, euphoria, ecstasy, delight sukha happiness, joy

IF YOUR PRACTICE is ānāpānasati—mindfulness of breathing—there may possibly arise additional signs to indicate you have arrived at access concentration. You may discover that the breath becomes very subtle; instead of a normal breath, you notice you are breathing very shallowly. It may even seem that you’ve stopped breathing altogether. These are signs that you’ve likely arrived at access concentration. If the breath gets very shallow, and particularly if it feels like you’ve stopped breathing, the natural thing to do is to take a nice, deep breath and get it going again. Wrong! This will tend to weaken your concentration. By taking that nice deep breath, you decrease the strength of your concentration. Just stay with that shallow breathing.

If the breath gets very, very subtle, or if it disappears entirely, instead of taking a deep breath, shift your attention away from the breath to a pleasant sensation. This is the key thing. You notice the breath until you arrive at and sustain access concentration, and then you let go of the breath and shift your attention to a pleasant sensation, preferably a pleasant physical sensation.

This is the key thing. You notice the breath until you arrive at and sustain access concentration, and then you let go of the breath and shift your attention to a pleasant sensation, preferably a pleasant physical sensation.

If you arrive at access concentration (which, remember, is defined as being fully with the object of meditation and not becoming distracted even if there are wispy, background thoughts) and can maintain this access concentration for five to ten to fifteen minutes, you can also shift your attention away from the breath to a pleasant sensation even if the breath is still distinct. Whether you shift to the pleasant sensation because your breath has gotten too subtle or because you’ve been at access concentration “long enough,” you will need a good bit of concentration to continuously notice a pleasant sensation. A mildly pleasant physical sensation somewhere in your body is not nearly as exciting as the breath coming in and the breath going out. You’re experiencing this mildly pleasant sensation that’s just sitting there; you need to be well concentrated to stay with it.

Nonetheless, if you put a fake smile on your face when you start meditating, and keep putting it back on if it falls off, by the time you arrive at access concentration, the smile will feel genuine. If you can smile when you meditate, it works very well for generating a pleasant sensation to focus upon once you’ve established access concentration; but actually, smiling seems to only work for about a quarter of the students I’ve worked with.

Pleasant sensations can occur pretty much anywhere. The most common place that people find pleasant sensations when they’ve established access concentration is in the hands. What you want to do with your hands when you meditate is put them in a nice position in which you can just leave them.

Another common place people find a pleasant sensation is in the heart center, particularly if they’re using mettā—loving-kindness—meditation as the access method.

Other places people find pleasant sensations include the third eye, the top of the head, the shoulders—actually, you name a body part, and I’ve had some student find a pleasant sensation there that they were able to focus on long enough for the first jhāna to arise. It does not matter where the pleasant sensation manifests; what matters is that there is a pleasant sensation and you’re able to put your attention on it and—now here comes the really hard part—do nothing else.