[bezon]

Think that all are your brothers and sisters, fellow-beings in the ocean of life. You identify yourself with all. You are one with all. Repeat ten times -- May all be well and happy -- and wish them all peace and happiness.[31]

Another useful meditation for laymen is as follows:
May I be generous and helpful!
May I be well-disciplined and refined in manners!
May I be pure and clean in all my dealings!
May my thoughts, words and deeds be pure!
May I not be selfish and self-possessive but selfless and disinterested!
May I be able to sacrifice my pleasures for the sake of others!
May I be wise and be able to see things as they truly are!
May I see the light of Truth and lead others from darkness to light!
May I be enlightened and be able to enlighten others!
May I be able to give the benefit of my knowledge to others!
May I be energetic, vigorous, and persevering!
May I strive diligently until I achieve my goal!
May I be fearless in facing dangers and courageously surmount all obstacles! May I be able to serve others to the best of my ability!
May I be ever patient!
May I be able to bear and forbear the wrongs of others!
May I ever be tolerant and see the good and beautiful in all!
May I ever be truthful and honest!
May I ever be kind, friendly, and compassionate!
May I be able to regard all as my brothers and sisters and be one with all!
May I ever be calm, serene, unruffled, and peaceful!
May I gain a balanced mind!
May I have perfect equanimity![32]

In the mind of a devout Buddhist, Gotama Buddha symbolizes the embodiment of one's highest spiritual ideals. Consequently, the Buddha is often taken as a meditation subject.

As long as (the meditator) recollects the special qualities of the Buddha in this way, "For this and this reason the Blessed One is accomplished, ... for this and this reason he is blessed," then on that occasion his mind is not obsessed by greed, or obsessed by hate, or obsessed by delusion; his mind has rectitude on that occasion, being inspired by the Perfect One.[33]

When a noble disciple contemplates upon the Enlightened One, at that time his mind is not enwrapped by lust nor by hatred nor by delusion and at that time his mind is rightly directed towards the Tathagata. And with a rightly directed mind the noble disciple gains enthusiasm for the goal, enthusiasm for the Dhamma, gains the delight derived from the Dhamma. In him thus delighted, joy arises; to one joyfully minded, body and mind become calm; calmed in body and mind, he feels at ease; and if at ease, the mind finds concentration.[34]

The hazard in meditating on the Buddha, however, is that the unsophisticated meditator may not be aware of the psychological reasons for this exercise. In such a case the practice is likely to become a devotional one similar to those of non-Buddhist religions.

Mindfulness of Feelings, Consciousness, and Mental Objects

Some time ago I became acquainted with a Caucasian Buddhist who for several years had made a daily practice of meditating on love. He confided that he had chosen this meditation subject because he was prone to frequent outbreaks of anger and chronic resentment; a "hate problem" he termed it. But despite years of meditation, the hatred had not diminished; the meditation had failed. Why? As our acquaintance broadened the answer became apparent. My friend had several poorly-concealed intellectual and emotional deficiencies. He never once revealed that he acknowledged these; on the contrary, he displayed frequent attempts to bolster his self-image. Such attempts were invariably doomed to frustration, especially when his accomplishments and social poise were contrasted with those of others. By reacting with anger towards others he avoided the unpleasantry of looking at himself. In other words, his anger was a psychological defense through which he sought to maintain an illusion of self-esteem. Thus unconsciously he did not wish to relinquish his anger. To do so would be too painful, and to attack the anger by meditating on love was futile, for anger was only a symptom. The real problem lay much deeper.

To cure such hatred requires three things. First one must become aware of the existence of one's inadequacies and their accompanying humiliations; in other words, what is unconscious must become conscious. Second one must totally confront such unpleasant feelings and acknowledge them in their entirety. And finally one must relinquish the egotistical desire for self-exaltation. This last requirement is best achieved by objectively analyzing the illusion of self and gaining full appreciation for the changing and compounded nature of the personality. In other words, one must acquire insight of both types discussed above under the goals of meditation. How can this be achieved?

Awareness of unconscious feelings is rarely obtained through logical deductions or rational explanations. A person who harbours these feelings will either refuse to believe what he is told or will come to accept it only as so much factual information devoid of emotional significance. An excellent illustration is the case of a forty-year-old woman who sought psychiatric help for severe feelings of fear, guilt, and depression. On examining her case it became apparent that her problem was largely due to repressed feelings of hatred for her mother, a very dominating and selfish woman. After much discussion the patient finally deduced that she indeed did hate her mother, and for the next two months she spoke knowingly and learnedly about her repressed hatred and resultant symptoms. Yet she improved not one bit. Then one day she entered the office shaking with rage and cried, "God, I hate that witch!" There was never a more vivid example of the difference between knowing and experiencing. Improvement quickly followed.

This example is typical of many psychiatric case histories. One sees patients who speak in the most erudite manner about Freud and Jung and adeptly employ psychiatric terminology. Yet this intellectual verbiage is often a subtle defense against facing their true feelings. Conversely, many unsophisticated and unlearned patients are quick to achieve insight and make rapid progress. Consequently, the skilful psychiatrist makes limited use of technical jargon and theoretical concepts. He asks questions often but answers few. This same technique is employed in Burmese and Zen meditation centers. The student is discouraged from making philosophical inquiries and is told: "Pursue your meditation, and soon you will see."[35]
You may, Ananda, also keep in mind this marvellous and wonderful quality of the Tathagata (the Buddha): knowingly arise feelings in the Tathagata, knowingly they continue, knowingly they cease; knowingly arise perceptions in the Tathagata, knowingly they continue, knowingly they cease; knowingly arise thoughts in the Tathagata, knowingly they continue, knowingly they cease. This, Ananda, you may also keep in mind as a marvellous and wonderful quality of the Tathagata.[36]

In his earlier years Sigmund Freud experimented with hypnosis. He found it a useful tool in revealing unconscious feelings and conflicts to the therapist, but it was of little value to the patient. The reason was that hypnotic trance precluded the patient from consciously confronting and resolving his problems. Therefore, Freud abandoned hypnosis in preference to the now standard procedures of psychiatry and psycho-analysis. These same findings and conclusions have often been repeated by later researchers and clinicians. Similarly, the Buddha rejected the use of trance states so common in yogic practice and developed a means by which people can acquire insight without the aid of a therapist or psychedelic drugs. Two approaches are employed.

The easier approach to insight is one which both monks and laymen can use regardless of meditative development. It consists in developing the habit of reflecting on one's feelings from time to time and detecting the motives whichproduce seemingly spontaneous words and deeds. "Why did I say that?" "Why am I tense when I meet so and so?" "I find myself disliking such and such a character in this novel. Why is that? Of whom does he remind me?"

For those who have progressed in the breathing meditation or made similar progress at quieting the mind, unconscious feelings become more readily accessible. As one begins to shut out sensory distractions and halt discursive thinking, more subtle sensations come into awareness. At first there may be only a vague feeling of anxiety, some unexplained sense of guilt, or a feeling of anger. Without recourse to verbal whys or hows and avoiding any speculative conjecture the meditator directs full attention to the feeling alone. He brings only the feeling itself into full awareness and allows no interfering thoughts, though later he will benefit by reflecting on it in a contemplative manner. It is at this point that repressed memories and emotional conflicts may come into awareness. Here also, meditation can be potentially dangerous for those whose personality structures are loosely constituted or who have repressed emotional problems of severe intensity. Usually, however, in these latter instances one's unconscious defenses will intervene and the meditator will terminate the practice because he feels anxious, or "can't concentrate," or "just quit because I felt like it."

Thus the last three sections of the Satipatthana Sutta read as follows:

Mindfulness of feelings -- the second of the four foundations of mindfulness:
Herein, monks, a monk when experiencing a pleasant feeling knows, "I experience a pleasant feeling"; when experiencing a painful feeling, he knows, "I experience a painful feeling"; when experiencing a neutral feeling, he knows, "I experience a neutral feeling....

Mindfulness of consciousness -- the third of the four foundations of mindfulness: