Vipassana is not intended for the enjoyment of pleasant sensations – Message from Guruji S N Goenkaji

I repeatedly warn students that Vipassana is not intended for the enjoyment of pleasant sensations, but despite my advice some of them make that their aim.

They think, I must get a free-flow of very pleasant vibrations.

If I’m not getting it, I’m not progressing.” They are completely wrong.

The equanimity you have developed is the measure of your progress.

The Buddha explained: To dig out the stock of your sankharas of craving, make use of the pleasant sensations;
to dig out the sankharas of aversion, make use of your unpleasant sensations.

Both types of sensation are equally important as tools to help us eradicate the deep-rooted sankharas that we have accumulated.
If you ignore this advice and instead feel depressed with gross sensations and elated with pleasant ones,
you are simply repeating what you have been doing your whole life and for so many lives.

In the name of Vipassana, you have started playing the same game.

Why Morning and evening daily sittings are very important in Vipassana – Message from Guruji S N Goenkaji

I must progress on the path and also encourage others to come to the path and progress on it.

You progress only when you maintain your practice morning and evening.

If you take courses, whether of ten, twenty or even thirty days, and you miss your daily meditation, you will not really benefit.

A course ought to strengthen your practice, your understanding of Dhamma at the experiential and intellectual level.

But only applied Dhamma will give real benefits.

If you do not practice morning and evening every day, you will notice that real progress is missing.

Morning and evening sittings are very important.

Korean Zen stories

Once it happened that two monks were traveling. They crossed a river in a boat, and the ferryman said to them, “Where are you going? If you are going to the city beyond this valley, go slowly.’

But the old monk said, “If we go slowly we will never reach, because we have heard that the gates of that city are closed after sunset, and we have just one or two hours at the most, and it is a very long distance. If we go slowly we will never reach, and we will have to wait outside the city. And the outside of the city is dangerous—wild animals and everything—so we will have to make haste.

The ferryman said, “Okay, but this is my experience: Those who go slowly, reach.”

The other monk listened to it. He was a young man and he thought, “I don’t know this part of the country, and this ferryman may be right, so it is better to follow his advice.” So he walked slowly, leisurely, as if not going anywhere, not in a hurry, just for a walk.

The old man hurried, started running. He had many scriptures on his back. Then he fell down: Tired, carrying weight,
old, in such a hurry, so tense, he fell down. The man who was not in a hurry simply walked and reached.

The ferryman was following and he came near the old man. He was lying by the side of the road; his leg was broken and blood was oozing out.

The ferryman said, “I told you that this has been always so: Those who walk slowly reach, those who are in a hurry always manage to stumble ‘somewhere or other. These parts are dangerous. The road is rough and you are an old man. And I had advised you, but you wouldn’t listen to me.”