Vipassana Meditation

Transforming the Mind, One Breath At A Time
by Jane Marshall

"GONG!" The sound floats smoothly into my consciousness, gently shaking me awake. It hangs on the air like the mist that rises off the grassy fields. I unzip my tent and slip into the cool air, pinpricks of stars fading into gray morning light.

It is 4 a.m.

I walk over uneven ground, footfalls meeting damp grass, and then enter the main building. I pass other meditators, but we do not look at each other, we do not speak.

By 4:30 a.m. I am sitting in the hall, cross-legged on an arrangement of cushions. I close my eyes and begin to observe my breath.

I am at the Vipassana Meditation Centre in Ethel, Washington, two hours south of Seattle. Today is day three of my ten-day course. I have already spent two days in complete silence, observing, hour after hour, my own body. I have noticed how quickly my mind wanders away; only a few minutes and it is drawn towards experiences of the past, worries and fears of the future, and sleep.

I sit in the fourth row of meditators. Some are sitting straight-backed and unmoving, like statues of Buddha; others are shifting and sighing, counting the seconds until the end of the session. We have all come, from many different backgrounds, to experience one of India's most ancient meditation techniques.

Vipassana meditation was rediscovered 2500 years ago by Gotama the Buddha. Vipassana means "seeing things as they really are." It is a logical process of purification through self-observation. When the mind is pure, we are free to live our lives full of peace, happiness, and fulfillment.

In order to learn this technique, it is necessary to undertake a ten-day residential course under the guidance of a qualified teacher. Through decades of experience, teachers of Vipassana have found ten days to be the minimum period which students need to learn the technique. There are over eighty centres worldwide dedicated to the practice of this technique. Currently, Vipassana is taught under Mr. S.N. Goenka.

All centres are run on a donation basis. After a student has completed a course and experienced the benefits of Vipassana, he or she may donate towards the expense of others. These donations are the only means of financing the courses around the world. Neither teachers nor staff receive any remuneration.

During a ten-day course, students must suspend all contact with the outside world. They follow a demanding daily schedule, which includes ten hours of sitting meditation, with many breaks throughout. They must observe silence, not communicating with fellow students. They may speak, when necessary, with the teachers, and may contact the staff with needs related to food, accommodation or health.

Students receive meditation instructions several times daily. As well, they listen to videotape evening discourses with Mr. Goenka, explaining the day's progress.

There are three steps to the training. First, students must take five moral precepts involving abstinence from actions that may cause harm or distract others. This, in combination with maintaining silence, serves to calm the mind in preparation for the delicate task of self-observation.

The second step is to develop a more stable and concentrated mind. Students are instructed, for the first three days, to fix their attention on the flow of breath as it enters and leaves the nostrils. By the fourth day, the mind is calm and focused enough to tackle the third step, the practice of Vipassana itself.

In this technique, students scan their bodies from head to foot, maintaining awareness of all the different sensations they come across. The goal is to observe objectively, whether the sensations appear to be pleasant or unpleasant. By not reacting to them, students realize the true nature of their body sensations: that they are constantly changing, and that in labelling them good or bad, they are creating their own happiness or unhappiness. This is true wisdom.

By the end of the morning session, I am feeling stiff and restless. I am grateful when the low chanting begins, and finally the sound of the gong. We slowly uncross our legs, and rise. Without a word, we file out of the hall.

The morning sun is slanting through the trees and the birds are beginning their chatter. Crunch of feet over gravel, and I am in the dining hall. The smell of breakfast sends me into a state of bliss...

I, and fifty other people, have set aside ten days of our busy lives. We are tasting something that cannot be found in lectures or sermons, material goods or any other person. We are undergoing a deep exploration of our selves, and the universal truths contained within.

Real wisdom lies within each of us. When we make the effort to uncover it, we allow ourselves to experience true happiness.

Reprint of Article found in Common Ground Magazine, issue 113, December 2000 with permission from Joseph Roberts, Publisher & Senior Editor.