This post was originally written on day 11 of Bhante Sumano’s limited-run, daily, January newsletter, Anicca. It’s reposted here with minimal edits.
Below is a little essay I’ve written up with some reflections on how to frame a formal practice—if that’s something you find yourself leaning towards.
The beauty of even reflecting on it, though, is that you find what works and what doesn’t—and can fine tune along the way.
the right framework
When we dive into Buddhist practice, we may find we quickly get overwhelmed. There are scores—really hundreds!—of methods and practices and ideas and opinions and, and and…
How are we to wrap our unenlightened minds around it all?
In the book Nothing to It, senior monastic Brother Phap Hai recommends creating a supportive and flexible framework for our practice.
When I stumbled across the book a couple years ago, it struck me as a great way to frame things as a lay person. Actually, even now that I’m a monk, I’m still applying its principles. This kind of structure may not work for everyone, but I found it useful in organizing practice periods, especially when you have the flexibility to do so.
study
I’ve always been somewhat of a bookworm, so for me study has always been a given.
I’ve personally found the Pāli language texts (compiled into the Pāli Canon) to be the most accessible and down-to-earth. (Many parallels are also preserved in Chinese based on the Sanskrit, in a collection known as the Āgamas). Translations can be found online, at SuttaCentral, for example. And a very good introduction anthology is Ven. Bhikkhu Bodhi’s In the Buddha’s Words.
After that, the teachings of senior disciples of the Buddha and more contemporary senior teachers is a great place to start. And nowadays there are so many options for online Dhamma.
Studying the Dhamma is an excellent way to develop a sense of what the practice is getting at, because you’ll start to understand the thought-world and perspectives of Buddhist practice.
meditation
Theoretical knowledge, of course, is not enough. We should also try to meditate. And I use the word meditate here broadly, to encompass any kind of contemplation.
Sitting meditation makes for a very solid foundation, however short or long, but there are other options: walking, standing, even lying down. We may also see that we have a combination of formal and informal meditation practices.
While on self-led retreat, I mix formal sitting practice with strolls in the woods or down the street. I might also hold a particular contemplation in mind while moving through the day, like spreading thoughts of kindness or mettā,
Walking from one room to another, I’ve contemplated anatomy: “Leg bones moving.” While eating, I’ve reflected on gratitude, generosity, and contentment.
The point is, there’s lots of options—plenty of moments to put our study into practice. Then, as our spiritual progress grows, we start to truly see how the two aspects—study and practice—support each other.
work
Work is unavoidable for most of us, whether it’s sweeping the porch or leaving the house to go to a job. But we don’t have to be averse to this element of our lives. We can align our activities with the practice by holding the intention to be mindful and aware, even while doing something we wouldn’t necessarily consider spiritual.
Work can even be an opportunity to express the wholesome qualities we’ve been generating, like generosity, compassion, kindness, and gratitude.
If we’re on extended retreat, simple work activities can also be a “brain break” of sorts, like yoga for the mind. It allows us to transition smoothly from meditation and study into daily activity without diving into jarring or discursive thought. (And sometimes tidying a room just feels good: the satisfaction of a job well done.)
connection
We all need connection, even us self-described introverts. It’s true, many people find solitary practice to be of great fruit, but even hermits look forward to seeing the person who brings their meal. What this means though, is that connection will vary depending on your circumstances. I simply offer a couple reflections:
Are you cultivating wholesome and supportive friendships? Do you discuss the Dhamma with others to I share and grow? Who can you support? Who do you need support from?
On a silent retreat, you may find that communication is at a minimum. But you can still connect. A simple smile goes a long way, or a generous action, or creating and holding a supportive practice container. Then you’ll be alone, but together.
By keeping this dimension of the practice in view, we make sure not to neglect spiritual companionship.
rest
This is the part everyone loves. Sweet, sweet relaxation.
Of course, rest is also an important part of our spiritual path. We are dedicated to wakefulness and rejuvenation. We all know the experience of running ourselves ragged to achieve one goal or another, and while sometimes useful in the short-term, long-term results often end in disaster. Hence the need for balance and wisdom.
Find time to just relax. It doesn’t have to be stimulating. You can lie down for a short nap. Or lie down simply to experience the body in that posture while fully awake. Or else, drink some tea or coffee. Go for a walk. Stare out the window.
On retreat, I usually do yoga every day as part of my rest routine, and it supported my formal sitting practice and my sleep. Again, here your mileage will vary. Listen to your body.
altogether now
Each aspect of your personal framework supports the other, like all the sections of a spiderweb. Note here too that these frames are responsive. When conditions change, the practice will also change. You can be open to shifting things around, playing with different elements, and seeing what works and what doesn’t.
The only requirement is giving any practice a fair shot. We stick with it even when it’s difficult or challenging. How else will you know if it’s benefitting us or not?
One of the riskiest part of a flight is takeoff. The pilot is trying to hunk of metal into the sky and keep it afloat. The engines are thrusting. There’s resistance and turbulence; it’s uneasy, it’s scary, it’s uncomfortable. What if something goes wrong?
But then nothing goes wrong. The plane crests and levels out, and ahh—cruising.
That’s what it’s like when we hit the sweet spot of our practice. But to get there, well, takes a bit of work.
Until tomorrow—
Bhante Sumano