Daniel Johnson:
I haven't written much in a long time. I've done two Goenka retreats over the last 9 months, and have a lot of home practice. I did phone sessions with Kenneth Folk, and had a good phone call with Daniel I. I've practiced noting with great diligence. I haven't written much because I'm not sure what all I could say that would be useful. Certainly, my goal in posting here has been, from the beginning, to help cultivate my practice so that I make more progress and do it more quickly. I continue to "go on to stream entry" as quickly as I possibly can.
My last retreat was in August, and I "noted" diligently from morning to night each day for ten days. I put "noted" in quotes, because sometimes I actually verbally note things, and sometimes I just notice them, but I try to stay as close as possible to the intended purpose of the practice - to see the arising and passing phenomena of this moment as they are - from moment to moment to moment to moment to moment. And, so many moments it has been! Again and again and again and again and again and again just noticing stuff, and starting over each moment to notice this moment and then notice this moment. Again and again and again and again and again. I put a lot of "agains" because it is WAY more "agains" than I thought it would take to get stream entry. I note thoughts, feelings, sensations, emotions, I note mind states as they come, as they go, the arising, the maintaining, the passing away. I note the hearing of keyboard clicks as I type this. I note the anger, the frustration, the confusion, the questioning, the doubt, the desire, the longing, the fear, the isolation, the mental images, the thoughts, the theorizing, the philosophizing thoughts, the wonder, the curiosity, the conflict, the tension, the happiness, the joy, the lightness, the heaviness, the pain, the cold, on and on.
While on retreat, I think for the first time ever, I got some idea of what stream entry might be. I think I made it to the "office shutting down" phase. As noting became more rapid and more inclusive, it became clear that the arising and passing phenomena were arising dependent on the arising and passing phenomena from the moment before. That each was only just sensations. And as none were more important or different than any others, there was no need for the continued feeding of this reality making process. As such, it was possible for things to simply pass away without reaction such that mind-body was closing down shop. There were a couple of these moments which gave me a clue as to "oh, I could see now how this mind-body experience could come to a complete cessation." As might be expected, these moments led to following moments of excitement, analysis, imagining, etc... and the accompanying noting to go along with that continuous process of change.
these are all clear signs of strong practice and of progress. and yet, progress is not path-moment.
Daniel Johnson:
What's incredible is that through the practice of meditation and actualism, I have made so much progress in my life that it is almost unbelievable. What I can't fathom is how I could have had so many insights, grown and matured so much, and diminished so much my sense of identity without having gotten stream entry. By this standard, it seems stream entry must be a very very high level attainment. I don't know many people in person who can attain this much growth in even a few decades. Yet, somehow some people here on this website claim it like it is just opening a can of beans - that easy. In my experience, going from low equanimity to high equanimity is a long and hugely transformative process (perhaps I'm doing it wrong?)
or perhaps, beyond the universality of the fetters (doubt, superstition, belief in a self) which are cut (and which serve as the criteria for the attainment), stream-entry is something different for different people?
the pali commentaries on the buddhist canon draw distinctions between different 'types' of stream-enterers (on the basis of how quickly they then proceed to arahatship). further, there is a category of worldling (pre-stream-enterer) designated something like 'junior stream-enterer' (cula-sotapanna), which indicates a person who seems to experience many of the benefits of being a path-winner and yet is not (yet) one. indeed, as you indicated in your post, there is far more merit to the practice than that found only in attainment ... and this can be a strong support for the attainment's occurrence, as well as for the depth of its occurrence.
as for myself, i had spent about 8 years practising, including (a total of) a little over a year on retreat, before i then quickly went on to get stream-entry.
Daniel Johnson:
So, I write because I assume that there is the off-chance that by my writing here, I may get some response which may quicken the unfolding process of cultivating insight, eliminating delusion and attaining to a life of happiness and harmlessness.
I also write because somehow I have had at times a feeling of being misled about the nature of insight progress. For me, going on to stream entry quickly seems to be a process which happens over a longer period of time than for other people who are going on to stream entry quickly. I find this perplexing. I don't know what to make of it. I suppose it doesn't matter too much because there's really nothing that could stop me from continuing to persist with great effort toward the goal. I don't think I could stop it if I tried. Keep going. Keep going.
It seems like it'd be more sensible to get it done now rather than later, but I don't know what I can really do to get it done, the best I seem to be able to manage is to just keep noting, keep noting, keep noting, keep noting, keep noting. So, that's what I do.
Anyway, comments are most definitely welcome.
here is a quotation from u pandita's book, 'in this very life', which you may appreciate, whether for its encouraging message or for the flavour of its irony:
U Pandita:
A yogi who can maintain continuous mindfulness will experience deep joy in the practice. There is a flavor of the Dhamma you may not have tasted before. it is incomparable. The first time you taste it you will be filled with wonder. “How wonderful the Dhamma is. It’s fantastic. I can’t believe how much calm, rapture and joy arise in me.” You are filled with faith and confidence, with satisfaction and fulfillment. Your mind starts to think of sharing this experience with others. You may even get ambitious and plan your evangelical campaign. This is the noise in your mind, your song of praise for the ride on the silent chariot.
Another noise is somewhat less enthusiastic. It is the screeching of yogis who ride the chariot without grace or pleasure. They may manage to hang on, but just barely. These are the yogis who do not practice diligently. In vipassanā practice, a puny effort bring measly results. Slack yogis will never get to taste the flavor of the Dhamma. They may hear of others’ success. They may see others sitting still and straight, presumably enjoying deep concentration and insight, but they themselves will be swamped by distractions and hindrances. Doubts will creep into their minds: doubts about the teacher the method, and the chariot itself. “This is a lousy chariot. It won’t get me anywhere. The ride is bumpy, and it makes a lot of noise.”
Sometimes one might even hear a desperate wail coming from the chariot’s direction. This is the cry of yogis who have faith in the practice and are trying hard, but who for one reason or another cannot make as much progress as they wish. They begin to lose confidence. They doubt whether they can reach their goal.
In Burma there is a saying to encourage these people. “The more the anagārika loses his way, the more rice he or she gets.” An anagārika is a kind of renunciate that exists in Buddhist countries. Such a person takes eight or ten precepts, puts on a white coat and shaves his or her head. Having renounced the world, anagārikas live in monasteries, maintaining the compound and aiding the monks in various ways. One of their duties is to go into town every few days and ask for donations. In Burma, donations often come in the form of uncooked rice. The anagārika goes through streets shouldering a bamboo pole that has a basket hanging from each end.
Perhaps he or she is unfamiliar with the village byways and, when it is time to go home, cannot find the way back to the monastery. The poor renunciate bumps into this dead end, turns around in an alley, gets stuck in that back lane. And all the while people think this is part of the rounds and keep making donations. By the time the anagārika finds the way home, he or she has a big pile of loot.
Those of you who get lost and sidetracked now and then can reflect that you will end up with a really big bag of Dhamma.
tarin
