IMPERMANENCE

IMPERMANENCE

All things are impermanent . This is one of the most
fundamental teachings of the Buddha and the second to last sentence he
uttered before he died: “All phenomena are impermanent! Work out
your salvation with diligence!” In his last words, he said everything you

need to know to do insight practices. Things come and go. Nothing lasts
for even an instant! Absolute transience is truly the fundamental nature
of experiential reality.
What do I mean by “experiential reality?” I mean the universe of
sensations that you actually experience. There are many gold standards
for reality. However, when doing insight practices, the only useful gold
standard for reality is your own sensate experience. From the
conventional point of view, things are usually thought to be there even
when you can no longer experience them, and are thus assumed with
only circumstantial evidence to be somewhat stable entities.
Predictability is used to assume continuity of existence. For our day-today lives, this assumption is adequate and often very useful.
For example, you could close your eyes, put down this book, and
then pick it up again where you left it without opening your eyes. From
a pragmatic point of view, this book was where you left it even when you
were not experiencing it in any way. However, when doing insight
practices, it just happens to be much more useful to assume that things
are only there when you experience them and not there when you
don’t. Thus, the gold standard for reality when doing insight practices is
the sensations that make up your reality in that instant. Sensations not
there at that time do not exist, and thus only the sensations arising in
that instant do exist. In short, the vast majority of what you usually think
of as making up your universe doesn’t exist the vast majority of the time,
from a pure sensate point of view. This is exactly, precisely and
specifically the point. Knowing this directly leads to freedom.
It is wise to reflect on death and all of that, for it is useful and true.
This is a reflection on ordinary reality and thus an aspect of training in
morality that is commonly used to develop motivation to train in insight.
Far better to see one sensation arise and pass away. What do I mean by
this? I mean that sensations arise out of nothing, do their thing, and
vanish utterly. Gone. Utterly gone. Then the next sensation arises, does
its thing, and disappears completely. “That's the stuff of modern
physics,” one might say. “What does that have to do with practice?” 
It has everything to do with practice! We can experience this,
because the first set of vibrations we have access to isn't actually that fast.
Vibrations. That's right, vibrations. That's what this first characteristic

means: that reality vibrates, pulses, appears as discrete particles, is like
TV snow, the frames of a movie, a shower of vanishing flower petals, or
however you want to say it. Some people can get all into complex wave 
or particle models here, but don't. Just look into your actual experience,
especially something nice and physical like the motion and sensations of
the breath in the abdomen, the sensations of the tips of the fingers, the
lips, the bridge of the nose, or whatever. Instant by instant try to know
when the actual physical sensations are there and when they aren't. It
turns out they aren't there a good bit of the time, and even when they
are there, they are changing constantly.
We are typically quite sloppy about what are physical sensations and
what are mental sensations (memories, mental images, and mental
impressions of other sensations). These two kinds of sensations actually
oscillate back and forth, a back and forth interplay, one arising and
passing and then the other arising and passing, in a somewhat quick but
quite penetrable fashion. Being clear about exactly when the physical
sensations are there will begin to clarify their slippery counterpart that
helps create the illusion of continuity or solidity: flickering mental
impressions. 
Coming directly after a physical sensation arises and passes is a
separate pulse of reality that is the mental knowing of that physical
sensation, here referred to as “consciousness” (as contrasted with
“awareness” in Part III). By physical sensations I mean the five senses of
touch, taste, hearing, seeing, and smelling. This is the way the mind
operates on phenomena that are no longer there, even thoughts,
intentions and mental images.
Since I just used this dangerous phrase “the mind,” I should quickly
mention that it cannot be found. I’m certainly not talking about the
brain, which we have never experienced, as the standard for insight
practices is what we can directly experience. As an old Zen monk once
said to us in his extremely thick Japanese accent, “Some people say
there is mind. I say there is no mind, but never mind. Heh, heh, heh!”
However, I will use this dangerous phrase “the mind” often, or even
worse “our mind,” but think to yourself when you read it, “He’s just
using conventional language, but really there are just utterly transient
mental sensations. Truly, there is no stable entity called ‘the mind’


which can be found! By doing insight practices, I will fully understand
this!” If you are able to do this, we’ll get along just fine.
This mental impression of a previous sensation (often called
“consciousness” in Buddhist parlance) is like an echo, a resonance. The
mind takes a crude impression of the object, and that is what we can
think about, remember and process. Then there may be a thought or an
image that arises and passes, and then, if the mind is stable, another
physical pulse. 
Each one of these arises and vanishes completely before the other
begins, so it is extremely possible to sort out which is which with a stable
mind dedicated to consistent precision and to not being lost in stories.
This means that the instant you have experienced something, you know
that it isn't there any more, and whatever is there is a new sensation that
will be gone in an instant. There are typically many other impermanent
sensations and impressions interspersed with these, but, for the sake of
practice, this is close enough to what is happening to be a good working
model.
Engage with the preceding paragraphs. They are the stuff upon
which great insight practice is based. Given that you know sensations are
vibrating, pulsing in and out of reality, and that, for the sake of practice,
every sensation is followed directly by a mental impression, you now
know exactly what you are looking for. You have a clear standard. If you
are not experiencing it, then stabilize the mind further, and be clearer
about exactly when and where there are physical sensations. Spend time
with this, as long as it takes. The whole goal is to experience
impermanence directly, i.e. things flickering, and what those things are
doesn't actually matter one bit!
How freeing! Interpretation is particularly useless in insight
meditation, so you don't have to spend time doing it when you are on
the cushion. Throughout this book I recommend reflecting on spiritual
teachings and how to bring them to bear on our life, but not on the
cushion. Thoughts, even supposedly good ones, are just too slippery
and seductive most of the time, even for advanced meditators, though if
you can avoid getting lost in their content they are as valid a stream of
objects as any other. Try to limit yourself to a few minutes of reflection


per hour of meditation. This should be more than enough. There are
simply no substitutes for this sort of momentum in practice. 
How fast are things vibrating? How many sensations arise and
vanish each second? This is exactly what you are trying to experience,
but some very general guidelines can provide faith that it can be done
and perhaps point the way as well. Begin by assuming that we are talking
about one to ten times per second in the beginning. This is not actually
that fast. Try tapping five to ten times per second on a table or
something. It might take two hands, but it's manageable, isn't it? You
could obviously experience that, couldn't you? That's the spirit! 
There are faster and slower vibrations that may show up, some very
fast (maybe up to forty times per second) and some very slow (that are
actually made up of faster vibrations), but let's just say that one to ten
times per second can sometimes be a useful guideline in the beginning.
Once you get the hang of it, the faster and slower vibrations are no big
deal. Alternately, depending on how you practice, conceiving of this as
like a shower of raindrops, a pointillist painting in motion, or 3D TV
snow might help. Reality is obviously quite rich and complex, and thus
the frequencies of the pulses of reality can be somewhat chaotic, but
they actually tend to be more regular than you might expect. Also, there
are not really any “magic frequencies.” Whatever frequency or pulse or
whatever you are experiencing at that moment is the truth of that
moment! However, in the beginning you should go for faster vibrations
over slower ones and then try for wider ones over those that are
narrower.
Don't worry if things look or feel solid sometimes. Just be with the
solidity clearly and precisely, but not too tightly, and it can start to show
its impermanence. Be aware of each exact moment in which you
experience solidity and its beginning and ending. Remember that each
experience of solidity is a separate, impermanent sensation! Many
people begin practicing and really want to solidify something like the
breath so that they can actually pay attention to it. They become
frustrated when they have a hard time finding the breath or their body
or whatever. The reason they can’t find it is not because they are a bad
meditator but because they are having direct insight into how things
actually are! Unfortunately, their theory of what is supposed to happen


involves really perceiving something solid and stable, so they get very
frustrated. You should now be able to avoid a lot of that frustration and
begin to appreciate why knowing some theory is important.
It is also worth noting here that the frequency or rate of these
vibrations may change often, either getting faster or slower, and that it is
really worth trying to see clearly the beginning and ending of each
vibration or pulse of reality. These are actually at least two different
sensations! It is also useful to check out exactly what happens at the
bottom, middle, and top of the breath if you are using the breath as an
object, and to examine if the frequency stays stable or changes in each
phase of the breath. Never assume that what you have understood is the
final answer! Be alert! Explore carefully and precisely with openness and
acceptance! This is the door to understanding. 
One last thing about vibrations: looking into vibrations can be a lot
like any other sport. It can be thought of the way we might think of
surfing or playing tennis, and this sort of game-like attitude can actually
help a lot. We're “out to bust some vibrations!” as a friend of mine
enthusiastically put it. You don't know quite what the next return or
wave is going to be like, so pay attention, keep the mind on the pulse of
the sensations of your world just as you would on the wave or ball, and
keep playing!
I highly recommend this sort of speed in practice not only because
that is how fast we have to perceive reality in order to awaken, but also
because trying to experience one to ten sensations per second is
challenging and engaging. Because it is challenging and engaging, we will
be less prone to getting lost in thoughts rather than doing insight
practices. Our minds have the power to perceive things extremely
quickly, and we actually use this power all the time to do such things as
read this book. You can probably read many words per second. If you
can do this, you can certainly do insight practices.
If you can perceive one sensation per second, try for two. If you can
perceive two unique sensations per second, try to perceive four. Keep
increasing your perceptual threshold in this way until the illusion of
continuity that binds you on the wheel of suffering shatters. In short,
when doing insight practices, constantly work to perceive sensations
arise and pass as quickly and accurately as you possibly can. With the


spirit of a racecar driver who is constantly aware of how fast the car can
go and still stay on the track, you are strongly advised to stay on the
cutting edge of your ability to see the impermanence of sensations
quickly and accurately. 
I will relate four of the many little exercises that I sometimes do that
I have found useful for jump-starting and developing insight into
impermanence. They will demonstrate how we can be creative in
exploring our reality precisely but hopefully they will not be thought of
in some sort of dogmatic way. These objects and postures are not that
important, but understanding impermanence directly is. 
In one of these exercises, I sit quietly in a quiet place, close my eyes,
put one hand on each knee, and concentrate just on my two index
fingers. Basic dharma theory tells me that it is definitely not possible to
perceive both fingers simultaneously, so with this knowledge I try to see
in each instant which one of the two finger’s physical sensations are
being perceived. Once the mind has speeded up a bit and yet become
more stable, I try to perceive the arising and passing of each of these
sensations. I may do this for half an hour or an hour, just staying with
the sensations in my two fingers and perceiving when each sensation is
and isn’t there. This might sound like a lot of work, and it definitely can
be until the mind settles into it. It really requires the concentration of a
fast sport like table tennis. This is such an engaging exercise and
requires such precision that it is easy not to be lost in thought if I am
really applying myself. I have found this to be a very useful practice for
developing concentration and debunking the illusion of continuity. You
can pick any two aspects of your experience for this exercise, be they
physical or mental. I generally use my fingers only because through
experimentation I have found that it is easy for me to perceive the
sensations that make them up.
In another related exercise, I do the same sort of thing, sitting
quietly in a quiet place with my eyes closed, but instead I concentrate on
the sensations of the front and back of my head. With the knowledge
that the illusion of a separate perceiver is partially supported by one
impermanent sensation incorrectly seeming to perceive another
impermanent sensation which it follows, such as the sensations in the
back of the head incorrectly seeming to perceive the sensations of the


front of the head which they follow, I try to be really clear about these
sensations and when they are and aren’t there. I try to be clear if the
sensations in the head are from the front or the back of the head in each
instant, and then try to experience clearly the beginning and ending of
each individual sensation.
This practice also requires a table tennis-like precision. Half an hour
to an hour of this can be quite a workout until the mind speeds up and
becomes more stable, but this sort of effort pays off. When I am
engaged with this practice, there is little room to be lost in thought. I
have also found this a very useful practice for developing concentration
and debunking the illusion of continuity and the illusion of a separate
self (more on that later).
In another exercise, which is quite common to many meditation
traditions, I sit quietly in a quiet place, close my eyes, and concentrate
on the breath. More than just concentrating on it, I know that the
sensations that make up the concept “breath” are each impermanent,
lasting only an instant. With this knowledge, I try to see how many
individual times in each part of the breath I can perceive the sensations
that make up the breath. During the in-breath I try to experience it as
many times as possible, and try to be quite precise about exactly when
the in-breath begins and ends. 
More than this, I try to perceive exactly and precisely when each
sensation of motion or physicality of the breath arises and passes. I then
do the same for the out-breath, paying particular attention to the exact
end of the out-breath and then the beginning of the new in-breath. I
don’t worry about how I am breathing because it is not the quality of the
breath which I am concerned with or even what the sensations are, but
the ultimate nature of these sensations: their impermanence, their
arising and passing away. When I am really engaged with bending the
mind to this exercise, there is little room to be lost in thought. I have
found this to be a very useful practice for developing concentration and
penetrating the illusion of continuity.
In the last exercise, I take on the thoughts directly. I know that the
sensations that make up thoughts can reveal the truth of the Three
Characteristics to me, so I have no fear of them; instead I regard them
as more glorious opportunities for insight. Again, sitting quietly in a


quiet place with my eyes closed, I turn the mind to the thought stream.
However, rather than paying attention to the content like I usually do, I
pay attention to the ultimate nature of the numerous sensations that
make up thoughts: impermanence. I may even make the thoughts in my
head more and more intense just to get a good look at them.
It is absolutely essential to try to figure out how you experience
thoughts, otherwise you will simply flounder in content. What do
thoughts feel like? Where to they occur? How big are they? What do
they look like, smell like, taste like, sound like? How long do they last?
Where are their edges? Only take on this practice if you are willing to
try to work on this level, the level that tries to figure out what thoughts
actually are rather than what they mean or imply.
If my thoughts are somewhat auditory, I begin by trying to perceive
each syllable of the current thought and then each syllable’s beginning
and ending. If they are somewhat visual, I try to perceive every instant in
which a mental image presents itself. If they seem somewhat physical,
such as the memory of a movement or feeling, I try to perceive exactly
how long each little sensation of this memory lasts. This sort of
investigation can actually be fairly easy to do and yet is quite powerful.
Things can also get a bit odd quickly when doing this sort of practice,
but I don’t worry about that. Sometimes thoughts can begin to sound
like the auditory strobing section of the song “Crimson and Clover,”
where it sounds like they are standing at a spinning microphone.
Sometimes the images in our head can begin to flash and flicker.
Sometimes our very sense of attention can begin to strobe. This is the
point! The sensations that imply a mind and mental processes are
discontinuous, impermanent. 
Again, this practice requires steadiness and determination, as well as
precision. When I am really engaged with this, there is no time to be
lost in the content of the thoughts, as I am trying too hard to be clear
about the beginning and ending of each little flicker, squawk and pulse
which makes up thought. This can be an especially fun practice when
difficult thoughts are distracting me from a physical sensation. I can turn
on them, break them down into meaningless little blips, little vibrations
of suchness, and then they don’t have the power to cause me any
trouble. They just scatter like confetti. They are seen as they are: small,


quick and harmless. They have a message to convey, but then they are
gone.
When I am done with this exercise, I return to physical objects and
their arising and passing. However, I have found taking on the
sensations that make up thoughts to be another very useful exercise for
developing concentration and penetrating the illusion of continuity. It
doesn’t matter if they are “good thoughts” or “bad thoughts,” as all
mental sensations are also dripping with ultimate truth that is just waiting
to be discovered, and thus I can proceed in my investigation with
confidence regardless of what arises. Whether our illusions are
penetrated using physical sensations or mental sensations is actually
completely irrelevant.
Hopefully these exercises will give you some idea about how one
might practice understanding impermanence. Impermanence is a true
mark of ultimate reality, so just understanding this again and again can
be sufficient to drum it into our thick heads, debunk the illusion of
continuity, and once this is drummed into our thick heads we are free.
This can be a subtle business, so be patient and persevere. Remember
all three trainings. Following flickering sensations and understanding the
other two characteristics of suffering and no-self that they manifest can
be a powerful and direct cause for deep insights and awakenings.
For five years of my practice I was basically a One Technique Freak,
and that technique was noticing how sensations flicker. I would do it as
often as I could, i.e. basically whenever I didn’t have to be doing
something that required concentration on the specifics of my life. I
would be riding an elevator, just trying to see when I could feel each
foot, or lying down to sleep and noticing how many times I could
experience the sensations of my breath in each second. I also tried to
notice this aspect of things for every single sensation that occurred
during my formal practice. I used lots of objects, usually those that were
presenting strongly at that time, and would use some variations on the
above techniques as well as some others that I will mention shortly to
keep me from getting stuck, but the aspect of my world that I tried to
notice, things flickering, was always the same. I found that by making
this sort of commitment to understanding one of the most basic


assumptions of insight practices I was able to make fast progress and
gain the ultimate insights I was looking for.