Cattāri Brahmavihārā

Returning to the breath during one’s daily life seems like a simple enough proposition the first time you hear it but almost a decade later I still find myself at times both bewildered and uncertain about how to proceed. Why? Probably because returning one’s awareness to the breath can seem so basic that I often have felt as if I’m not really “doing” anything. And, when it comes down to it, I have always wanted to feel as if I was doing the practice-a fact which may explain why I have been so attracted to nekkhama practices like the uposatha and fasting.

When there is resistance I know on a very gross level that “I am practicing.” Not much in the way of close attention is needed. The same goes for practices that have a heavy discursive component: you know you’re practicing metta when you’re repeating the phrases in your mind ad nauseam. But, my crude conceptions of the practice just smacks of bhava tanha. What’s really interesting to me is that when I practice in this way I often feel a resistance or deep, smoldering aversion which I have hitherto regarded as something to be seen and put to the side (at best) or plowed through (in my mosth benighted states). Now, when working with the breath (even when I am playing with the perceptions verbally) I have yet to feel this kind of build up of aversion. Rather, as the breath smooths out we are instructed to breathe through blockages and spread the ease of the breath throughout the body. It seems as if I really have an idea of what my teacher and Ajahn Thanissaro mean when they equate anapanasati with metta bhavana. By taking care of the breath, by returning to it and checking in, I am really (if non-verbally) cultivating metta for myself. Not such a bad thing to do on a Monday morning. Metta!