INSIGHTAotearoa
A newsletter for New Zealand's insight meditation practitioners and communities
98 Riverside Road, Gisborne, 4010 Aotearoa New Zealand
deborah @ insightaotearoa.org | ISSN 1177-5076
MARCH 2009
IN THIS NEWSLETTER YOU'LL FIND...
1. EDITORIAL: CONCENTRATION
2. Concentration
3. Samadhi is Pure Enjoyment
5. Book Review: The Experience of Samadhi
6. Poem: Ecstasy
8. Questions ... questions ...
9. Sangha news
10. Insight meditation retreats and other events
10. The Last Word: Happy to Concentrate
>> +==0==+ >>
1. EDITORIAL: CONCENTRATION
I received an email from Shambala Publishers in January announcing a new book, The Experience of Samadhi by Richard Shankman. Richard is a teacher and my friend. We have shared many retreats and served four years together on the steering committee of our sangha in California. The subject of samadhi, translated from Pali as concentration, not only inspired this month’s theme but also a review of this inspiring new book
This March edition of INSIGHTAotearoa dedicated to concentration is the second of a three-part exploration of the mental aspect of the Noble Eightfold Path: mindfulness, concentration, and right effort. This edition features two articles about concentration by Gil Fronsdal and Ajahn Sucitto and the Last Word by Sharon Salzberg.
Concentration is often described as single mindedness or unified mind. Sharon Salzberg suggests that concentration is born out of happiness. The Buddha taught:
Now what, monks, is noble right concentration with its supports
& requisite conditions? Any singleness of mind equipped with these
seven factors — right view, right resolve, right speech, right action,
right livelihood, right effort, & right mindfulness — is called noble right
concentration with its supports & requisite conditions.
May You be Happy,
Deborah White
>> +==0==+ >>
We concentrate with the mind’s illumining one-pointedness. We meditate with the heart's expanding vastness. We contemplate with the soul’s fulfilling oneness.
-- Sri Chinmoy
>> +==0==+ >>
2. CONCENTRATION
-- by Gil Fronsdal
Just as a rudder can hold a ship steady on its course, concentration offers stability and steadfastness to the practice of mindfulness. Indeed, concentration is so important in Buddhist practice that it is often considered an equal partner to mindfulness. Without the stabilizing force of concentration, we cannot sustain mindful attention on the things that are most important to us, including meditation. We all too easily become preoccupied instead of awake.
To develop concentration, it helps to understand its value, to appreciate that it is actually useful to focus mindfully on something like our breathing. To someone unfamiliar with the practice of concentration, it can seem illogical and counter-intuitive to focus on something unconnected to our major concerns. But twenty or thirty minutes attending to the breath gives most people a tangible appreciation for the power of concentration.
A mind without concentration is distractible and easily lost in preoccupations. The mind can be so “distracted by distractions it does not even know it is distracted,”¯ so tight around preoccupations that it’s difficult to see beyond the tightness. The concerns of our lives can preoccupy us very powerfully —so much so that we often do not notice that we may have some choice about the ways we understand and relate to them. Sometimes we assume that if we can only find the right understanding of a problem, we will be able to resolve it. We think that the only way of relating to our thoughts and concerns is in the very world of our thoughts and concerns itself.
It is as if we were in the middle of a maze in which the walls are just a little higher than our eyebrows. We walk around looking for the way out, bumping into walls, going down dead ends. Our emotions swing between hope and discouragement, unfounded confidence and fear. Stuck in the maze, it can seem so important to get out, and yet so difficult. But if we simply stood on our tiptoes and looked over the walls, from a higher vantage point we would easily see the way out.
Our world of thoughts and concerns can be like a maze; we don’t realize that all we have to do is “stand on our toes”¯ to get a broader view. From a higher vantage point, our problems may appear very different. We may not be able to change the problem itself, but through mindfulness supported by concentration we may be able to shift our perspective and radically change the way we relate to the situation.
Concentration brings calm, which can open the possibilities of new relationships toward our concerns. Most of us know that a calm mind allows us to see and think more clearly. But it can also help us to understand our concerns in a completely new way. It allows us to step outside of the maze-like context of the concerns themselves. Such problems as inter-personal relationships, work, health, and personal identity can be seen through our deepest integrity and values rather than through fears, desires, and popular, superficial values.
In a more profound sense, the over-arching perspective of calm awareness may show us that having problems may be completely acceptable. We realize that our ability to be whole and complete is not compromised by the problem. In fact, our wholeness actually includes the problem. This does not mean we become complacent, but that our attempts to fix our problems need not be colored by a sense of preoccupation, inadequacy, or neediness.
When we are caught by a problem, a great deal of energy can be poured into our pre-occupation. With concentration practice, we consciously put our energy into staying present and awake to something wholesome. A classic focus for developing concentration is the breath. By staying with the breath and matter-of-factly returning to it when the mind wanders, we strengthen our concentration and weaken preoccupation. With time, the mind finds rest, openness, and calmness.
To cultivate concentration on the breath, it can be useful to explore various ways of paying attention to the breath. You can try resting your attention on the breath or floating on the sensations of breathing. Try taking an interest in each breath as if it were your first—or last. See if you can enjoy the sensual quality of breathing. Let yourself become absorbed in the breathing process. Feel devotion and love for your breathing. Discern when gentle, compassionate acceptance supports the development of concentration and when a greater firmness of purpose is most appropriate. As your ability to sustain attention on the breath strengthens, the forces of preoccupation will weaken and you will probably find yourself calmer, lighter and more spacious.
When the mind becomes quite spacious and open, it is possible to experience difficulties without feeling that they belong to us personally. For example, seeing physical pain as “my”¯ pain tends to trigger feelings and ideas associated with our self-concept; seeing it simply as pain can make bearing it much easier. Likewise with strong emotions: if we aren’t preoccupied with interpretations of what the emotion says about our personal identity, our emotional lives become easier.
The most important function of concentration within mindfulness practice is to help keep our mindfulness steady and stable in the present so that we can see clearly what is actually occurring. Our present lived experience is the door to the deepest insights and awakening. Concentration keeps us in the present so mindfulness can do its work.
>> +==0==+ >>
Meditative training is more about letting go than it is about attaining levels of absorption.
-- Shaila Catherine
>> +==0==+ >>
3. SAMADHI IS PURE ENJOYMENT
-- by Ajahn Sucitto
Let’s look at the idea of concentration, or samadhi. When you hear those four little syllables con-cen-tra-tion, what do they imply to you? You probably can't articulate it, but you might feel a particular set of energies start to take over. Maybe you get a sense of doing something, working hard at it to get it right. That's the normal take. We say to ourselves, "Samadhi. This is a really big thing. It's not going to be a cake walk." We really clench up, get tight, and go for it. It's intensive practice, a "concentration" camp. No slacking allowed! With this kind of thinking, we set up a domination tactic whereby we control the mind. We rev up the controlling systems, the duty systems, the work systems, the get-it-right systems. This is real Gestapo stuff when it comes right down to it.
These tactics may work for a while, but in a few days we will start to tire out. Something in us tightens up, hardens up. And at the same time, something else in us is probably saying, "Ah, the hell with this." Every now and again that voice leaks out. We want to get some enjoyment, so we look for legitimate ways to avoid "the practice." After all, how many people would actually like to practice all the time? Of course, the idealistic mind says, "Yes, I'd like to commit myself to Dhamma all the time." A little voice chirps up, "Yes sir, that's me!" But underneath it's saying, "An evening off every now and then would be nice." So it's important to question our perception of concentration. This Gestapo view is not going to bring around samadhi, unification, or wholeness. If we examine this "getting it" attitude, we can feel how destructive it is, how it causes us to lose heart. There's no appreciation in it. We can feel how it makes us feel stressed and critical.
I've found this myself trying to develop samadhi like this in the monastery. I get very critical of everybody-somebody's got terrible posture, somebody opens the door too loudly; somebody's wearing his robes the wrong way. We get so picky and critical because our ideas about concentration heighten our critical faculties. But this discriminative faculty is that which separates. It leads to segregation. Segregation then leads to unrest and rebellion. Whatever has been exiled and rejected starts to lash back. So an experience that's intended to result in clarity in reality causes all these hindrances to well up. Concentration dissolves because one hasn't cultivated it in the right way.
Instead, let's consider the way the Buddha described it. Concentration is enjoyment. It's an enjoyment experience. He said, "For one whose body is balanced and at ease, there's no need to set up the wish 'May I feel happy, may I feel relaxed in myself.'" In other words, we don't need to make any effort. If the body is in harmony and its energy is balanced, then we will feel at ease. There is no need to set up the intention "may I concentrate." Someone who is at ease will be naturally concentrated. That is samadhi.
Now that doesn't seem very precise, does it? That's because it's not precise in terms of object definition, which is where we feel most secure. We think, "When I can feel so many breaths occurring in my nostrils, then I'm concentrated. That's samadhi." Try looking at it in another way. Instead of basing samadhi on an object, turn it around. Forget about the breath for a moment. Look more at subjective qualities. How are you feeling now? Just being here-sitting, walking, living-how does it feel? How do changes happen for you? When do you feel happy? When do you feel sad? When do you feel busy? When do you feel calm and easeful? When do you feel life is just this? What's the energy like then?
When there's something in the future that we've got to get to, there's tension. Things start to solidify; flexibility begins to dwindle. When there's a strong sense of self-consciousness-"I am this, I'm not that; I wasn't that, I will be this"-then there's a tightening of one's energies. When we defend ourselves from people, events, memories, and feelings, when we shut things out there's tightening and stress. When we try to perform and make ourselves into something, there's tightening and stress. When we compare and compete, there's tightening and stress.
So we begin to contemplate these unwholesome patterns and relinquish them. We can see how our lives work in terms of compartments. We may compartmentalize a retreat. We set up a series of little pockets-sitting, walking, free time, then more sitting, walking, free time. We might say to ourselves, "I didn't get my hours of sitting in today." Do you see what happens? Our thoughts set up zones: "This will be like this and that will be like that. I want to know what everything will be like so that I can be prepared for it. I'll have my cushion set up straight and my own special walking path that nobody better take over!" We create zones in which anything unwanted or unusual has been weeded out. This in turn creates a very rigid feeling. When something gets slightly out of pattern, we feel confused or upset. This is no way to live. It's a sterile experience, like living in a laboratory.
Of course, weeds still pop up, don't they? Weeds can live just about anywhere. They come up through cement. Weeds are the real lords of the planet. We should want to be more like a weed, really-to accentuate the resilience, robustness, spontaneity, "anywhereness" of the weed rather than the precariousness of a precious orchid that can survive only in a hothouse with sprays and special foods. After all, a weed is really just a flower. We've simply learned to say "weed," deciding that it is unrefined. Our perception labels it as negative just like our minds have been trained to accept only the clinical and unreal, the sterile and unalive, the prepackaged and filtered. Just like the cultivated orchid, unable to survive in the wild, our immune system is weak. We can't handle the raw stuff anymore.
But awareness can. Our training is one whereby awareness allows and takes on conditions. When awareness holds the body, there's embodiment-somatic presence. When awareness forms concepts, there's applied thought. When awareness inclines towards feeling and perception, there's resonance. When its intention is bare reference, we call it mindfulness, or referring to things as they are. When reference is fully established, the settling of awareness into enjoyment is samadhi.
Awareness itself is none of these experiences; it's within all of them. Practice is to keep introducing awareness to body, thought and mood in a mindful way. This requires a clear commitment of intention: like being here, like being with the body, the feeling, etc. So to encourage that commitment, make the practice a welcoming one. Then the thinking mind will follow along. The real trick is to find balance whereby we can think when we want to and, when it's not time for thinking, we can rest in an awareness of enjoyment.
This type of enjoyment is a receptive and grounded experience. When we learn to dance or to play a piano, for example, there are different stages. The first stage is "not conscious and incompetent" -not knowing what to do and not being able to do it. Next is "conscious and incompetent"- knowing what to do but still not being able to do it. At this stage, we practice in a wooden manner, clomping around to figure out the keys, beginner's meditation. Third is "conscious and competent"-knowing what to do and being able to do it. We think, "I've got it together now; I'm doing really well." Most people think this is the pinnacle. The real pinnacle, though, is "unconscious and competent"-that it's just happening. We don't know how we're doing it, but it's happening anyway. We are part of a flow. In this type of consciousness-which we can experience in certain arts, crafts, sports, and so on-we feel what's happening. We trust it. We flow with it. We are aware and attuned. There's no cognitive pattern saying, "Do this, do that." It's just flowing.
This is what samadhi is like. It is competent and unconscious, or better, beyond self-conscious effort. "Consciousness" in this context is the discriminative activity. Eye consciousness discriminates in terms of distance, light, and shade. It breaks things up into a description of experience: "This tree is a foot away; that one is ten feet away." Really, though, it's all just there. Mind consciousness discriminates between subject and object: "That's you, and this is me. You're out there, and I'm in here." The mind discriminates all the time. This doesn't apply simply to what we call normal external realities. Even when we watch the mind, there's the notion: "I'm in here, watching my mind out there." When battling with defilements: "I'm in here, and the defilements are out there." There's a kind of dividing line between the two. That's consciousness. Although awareness is the core "stuff" of consciousness, the activity of consciousness sets up that line.
As long as the line exists, there will be position-taking, nervousness, winning, losing, etc. Since experiences are transitory, there will always be a slight sense either of holding on to or getting rid of the state one has attained, trying to increase it or decrease it. Samadhi occurs when we move over that line. There's complete participation in and enjoyment of experience. Samadhi is the release from all the tension, the grasping, the boundary creation.
In the beginning stages of samadhi, we work within the boundaries of experience to sift out the kamma, the patterns and habit tendencies of past actions. We start within the boundary of the body to clean out all its inner boundaries-the unawareness of the body, the inability to flow with the energies of the body, the congestions in the body as an experience-so that it is no longer cramped, tight, knotted, twisted, or unbalanced. Once there's fullness of body, we don't have to do anything in bodily terms, the body is at rest. Just being a body is enjoyable.
Learning the essence of the practice within the body makes use of a safe, manageable boundary. The body is easy because it's tangible and gross. Enjoy embodied presence-sitting, walking, standing. The body then trains the mind to stop creating all these injunctions, controls, and nervousness. It trains the mind to stop the ignoring and forgetfulness and wrong seeing, to stop the conceit and shame and violence. This leads to paĆ’Ć’a, or wisdom-that is, an understanding of the process-which in turn brings release. Release from fear, from worry, from tension, from ignorance.
Release is itself a graduated process. We get the mind to change its behavior. This is something we can do only with the body because the mind can't change itself. It needs a reference. So we focus the mind onto something and ask, "Hmm. What is this like? Why is my breath like this?" The breath is a good place to start in developing concentration. Of course, we often think, "I need to adjust the breath to get it right. There's something wrong." So we tinker with it and refine it. Fine, if this leads to ease. But if we make elaborate concoctions or formulations around breathing it gets to the point where we don't even want to hear the word "breathing" anymore. Concentrating on our breathing is too painful because it sets up too many refined conceptual criteria. We intensify discrimination onto the object rather than suffuse it with awareness.
We need to unravel stress. Simply notice you are breathing. Just start to touch that. It's very simple. Watch how you receive, very consciously connecting with the word "receive," because it's the least intense "doing" that can occur. Bring up the reflection of just receiving your breath. At first, perhaps your receptivity will not be very clear or sharp or bright. Enhance the receiving; stay with it. Then ask, "What can I receive?" Focus in terms of patterns, like knowing the difference between the sounds and the silences when you listen to a voice. Feel the modulations, the ins and outs and the pauses; you can pick that up quite quickly. When you're breathing, simply receive the patterns of sensation and allow yourself to enjoy it, to rest in it, to flow with it. "For one who is at ease with the body there is no need to wish, 'May I be relaxed and enjoy myself.' It is a natural thing. For one who is relaxed and at ease, there is no need to wish, 'May my mind become concentrated.' It is a natural thing." These are the words of the Buddha
Flow is not a discrete object. You can't substantiate flow. It takes getting out of the habit of substantiating things, of putting boundaries around things that is an important relief in meditation. Things are dynamic, things are flowing. So our response has to be dynamic and flowing. We tend to try to find a rigid object that we can hold on to, and we call that concentration. One might feel a certain glee from achieving this, but it lasts for only a little while. Then it's goodbye flow, goodbye energy, goodbye joy.
When we're contemplating the breath, we're really looking at a metaphor for the mind. We have to look at this metaphor in the same way we'd appreciate a poem or a painting. Look at what it signifies. Don't go up to the canvas and hook your nose on it. Keep it at a distance where your eye rests comfortably. That's going to be different for different people. Your eye may rest comfortably on an object ten inches away, a foot away, two feet away. It depends. Put it where you feel comfortable. The idea of focusing is to settle, so focus in a way in which you feel settled and easy, not confused or sleepy. That's the only point where you'll actually experience a steady breath sign. This point is really in your own mental, psychological, awareness process. It's not a physical point.
Where do feel your energies come together? Get there. Let the breath pass through that, time and time again. You'll find yourself neither snagging on it nor moving away from it. You'll find yourself settling in. Then you'll begin to experience some kind of continuing tone, which is another metaphor. Listen in to that if it's something you experience more as a listening. If it's tactile, feel it. If it's got an emotional base, resonate with it. If it's visual, open to it. There is the "sign" of meditation. The quality of that experience is beautiful. Notice the beauty. What is this beauty? It's where the mind feels delighted, charmed, moved. This is joy.
But we can't hold beauty. A relationship to beauty is something akin to devotion. We don't hold it; we're aware of it in a way that's both loving and respectful. Give yourself to it. Of course, this is something we're not used to, so it must be done with care. This is not a reckless experience; it's something that requires trust. Trust your body first of all. The body is something that can be trusted much more than the mind. And as one learns to trust, one receives the blessings of that: what is good, what is conducive to the heart's welfare, what gives joy.
Receiving joy is another way to say enjoyment, and samadhi is the art of refined enjoyment. It is the careful collecting of oneself to the joy of the present moment. Joyfulness means there's no fear, no tension, no ought to. There isn't anything we have to do about it. It's just this.
Ajahn Sucitto is one of the senior Western monks in the lineage of Ajahn Chah. Having been ordained for over 30 years, he is currently abbot of Chithurst monastery in the U.K.
>> +==0==+ >>
4. WEBSITE: Insight Meditation New Zealand
-- by Peter Fernando
Insight Aotearoa readers may (or may not) be aware that we have a website which features a listing of all the Vipassana groups in NZ, a calendar, a list of teachers, and information about upcoming events in your region.
Ramsey Margolis and Adam Shand, who have generously devoted a huge amount of time and effort into developing this site, asked me if I would like to look after its maintenance. I have been doing so for about a month, and now there are up-to-date notices of what's going on in Wellington and Christchurch, the addition of new groups around the country, updated teacher profiles (including coming events), and an elegant new layout. If you know how to use Wiki sites, and would like to be able to update the details of what's happening in your area, please email me at peter.wimc @ gmail.com, and I can let you know how to proceed.
Alternatively, if you don't feel computer savvy, but would like something added to the site, feel free to send it along to me, and I will put it up.
Do visit http://www.insightmeditation.org.nz/wiki/ to check it out!
>> +==0==+ >>
More than those who hate you, more than all your enemies, an undisciplined mind does greater harm.
-- Buddha
>> +==0==+ >>
5. BOOK REVIEW: The Experience of Samadhi, An In-Depth Exploration of Buddhist Meditation by Richard Shankman
-- review by Deborah White
The title of Richard Shankman’s brilliant first book The Experience of Samadhi, An In-Depth Exploration of Buddhist Meditation, summarizes its content precisely. The author begins with an historical background of Theravada scriptural writings known as the Tipitaka or Pali Canon and the much later work called the Visuddhimagga or Path of Purification. He skillfully compares the sometimes-conflicting views about what samadhi is and how it is taught while offering guidance with developing samadhi in meditation practice. Shankman states, "Unraveling the mix of ideas about what samadhi (concentration) is and its proper place in dharma practice can be difficult. There is a wide range of views, opinions, and disagreements among teachers, and meditators may be exposed to a diversity of approaches to the core teachings and the meditative path. Students may become confused about the degree or type of samadhi they should cultivate or how to incorporate concentration into their meditation practice.
Samadhi is usually translated as concentration and means “undistractedness”¯ or “one pointedness.”¯ With a concentrated mind there is clarity into the true nature of things. The four approaches to developing samadhi offered in the suttas are explored with extensive focus on jhana, or the absorption states. Shankman offers a map for developing samadhi journeying through the obstacles in the bog of the hindrances to the bliss and tranquility of jhana states. Beautiful language flows throughout as the author explains, “Samadhi gives strength of stability and continuity so that the mind is really resting in the current of nonclinging.”¯
Part two is a series of interviews with 8 prominent Vipassana teachers including Jack Kornfield, Sharon Salzberg, and Christina Feldman. There are some jewels in these dialogues that focus on the practical use of samadhi in meditation practice. Christina Feldman explains, “Right samadhi as a path is the cultivation of a collected mind, the cultivation of one-pointedness. This is the samadhi, tranquility, training, and it is a process of concentrating and secluding the mind. So it is practicing a very, very bare-bones attentiveness.”¯
This is not a warm and fuzzy book about Buddhist meditation. It is an interesting read, however and reflects the author’s scholarly wisdom and experience. Shankman explains, "This book differs from most books on samadhi and jhana in that it is not presenting teaching from only one teacher or perspective. Rather, it provides an in-depth examination of samadhi and jhana in both the Theravada Pali tradition, and then discusses some of the controversies, disagreements and views on the topic."
Knowing the author and having a fondness for his spontaneous and witty teaching style, I was disappointed in the lack of personal anecdote. With his extensive retreat practice and deep insight, some personal experience and reflection could have a woven nicely into the book. That being said, I wish to congratulate Richard Shankman for this outstanding exploration of this immensely important and often neglected sister to mindfulness practice. I know the fracturing limits of the “dry Vipassana”¯ teaching approach. The Experience of Samadhi is a book I’ve been waiting for. Thank you!
Richard Shankman is a Buddhist meditation teacher with nearly four decades of of meditation practice and study. He is the co-founder of the Sati Center for Buddhist Studies as well as Community Partnership for Mindfulness in Education. He teaches throughout the U.S.A. including Spirit Rock Meditation Center.
The Experience of Samadhi, An In-Depth Exploration of Buddhist Meditation by Richard Shankman can be purchased online from Shabhala Books at: http://www.shambhala.com/
>> +==0==+ >>
6. POEM: Ecstasy
-- by Tim Wyn-Harris, Napier
Sitting on a green and lonely hill
Whilst a rush of duck wings
Harps the still dawn air
The rising sun floods
The plains below with liquid fire
While the sinking moon
Silvers the placid sea
The mind opens to unconditional love
Fly with the mountain eagles
Soar with the glass winged dragons
Into
Ecstasy
>> +==0==+ >>
The Buddhist Channel, http://www.buddhistchannel.tv
>> +==0==+ >>
8. QUESTIONS ... QUESTIONS ...
Do you have a question about your practice or about Buddhism in general? Send it in, and we will put it before a teacher. If it can be answered easily, it will be in a future INSIGHTAotearoa. Send your question to deborah @ insightaotearoa.org or by post to Newsletter, 98 Riverside Road, Gisborne 4010.
>> +==0==+ >>
9. SANGHA NEWS
To ensure safe delivery of this newsletter to your inbox (avoiding capture by spam filters), add newsletter @ insightaotearoa.org to your address book. If you receive your email directly from your internet service provider rather than using free email services such as hotmail, yahoo or gmail, it is also a good idea to go into your online mailbox using your ISP's webmail interface and add this address to your online address book. And if you receive INSIGHTAotearoa at work, ask your IT support people to add newsletter @ insightaotearoa.org to their whitelist.
This newsletter comes to you without a subscription price because our readers offer dana to support it. A traditional Buddhist generosity practice, dana received will be used to develop the newsletter, and the community that practices insight meditation. Regular automatic payments are very welcome. You can also post cash or cheques to 98 Riverside Road, Gisborne 4010, making cheques payable to INSIGHTAotearoa. Here is the bank account information:
Account name : INSIGHTAotearoa
Bank : ASB Bank
Branch : Lambton Quay
Account number : 12-3140-0285603-00
From outside New Zealand, the SWIFT code is : ASBBNZ 2A.
Mindfulness in Plain English can now be downloaded:
http://www.urbandharma.org/udharma4/mpe.htm
>> +==0==+ >>
10. THE LAST WORD: Happy to Concentrate
According to the Buddhist teachings the proximate cause of concentration is happiness… Straining to keep the mind on an object does not create the condition for concentration to most readily arise. However, when the mind is at ease, serene, and happy, we can more easily and naturally concentrate. Happiness is this sense does not mean the fleeting experience of pleasure, which inherently contains a quiet anxiety based on knowing that the moment will pass. The kind of happiness that is the proximate cause of concentration is a state of tranquility in which our hearts are calm, open, and confident. This is the fertile ground for growth of concentration.
-- Sharon Salzberg
>> +==0==+ >>
Thank you for taking the time to read this. If you would like to remove yourself from the INSIGHTAotearoa mailing list you can unsubscribe via the website: http:.//www.insightaotearoa.org. If you've received this from a friend and would like to be on the email mailing list, subscribe via the website: http://www.insightaotearoa.org. Write to Newsletter, 98 Riverside Road, Gisborne 4010 if you would like to receive this by post.
With Metta,
Deborah White, Kanya Stewart, and Peter Fernando