How To Enter Jhana
I began my journey with meditation around 2014 after dabbling for a few years previously. I became fascinated by the inner landscape of the mind and dove head first into a committed daily practice. I focussed primarily on concentration practice, believing that the modern mind is so affected by it’s environment that Vipassana meditation is wasted on a person who cannot achieve stable concentration. I still believe this and I think it is one of the biggest failings of how many people approach the subject.
My journey led me to something called the Jhana’s, a series of states of absorption which are poorly documented and understood by few. This is a shame because Jhana happens to be the most mind shattering experience of ecstasy and bliss the human mind is capable of experiencing. Having spend many, many hours myself absorbed in these states of mind, I can say with absolute confidence that for many people, the experience of the first and second Jhana is the distillation of everything they’ve been seeking through sensory and chemical sources of pleasure. It is a bottomless fountain of saturating, blinding pleasure. It is more joy and physical pleasure that can be contained. There is simply no way to over-exaggerate the experience of Jhana. The following is adapted from a post I wrote on reddit a decade ago, attempting to help people discover this esoteric corner of the mind.
I like to think of meditation as taking a journey into a forest. What I’ll attempt to provide here is a rough map — an idea of what you’re trying to find. The states I’ll describe are like oases or temples within that forest. The map will give you an idea of what to look for and where, but (as you’ll know if you’ve ever tried to follow a map in a forest) it can’t take you there on its own. Once you’ve found these places, you’ll find it easier to return to them. Over time you’ll carve paths through the forest of your mind, and visiting the oases of unimaginable bliss will become like taking a stroll through the woods.
Jhana isn’t some mystical thing. There’s so much misinformation about it, yet it’s the most incredible, healing experience. It’s not an impossible goal reserved for monks and their devotion to practice. It is, however, an incredibly subtle state to reach — one that requires a great deal of letting go. The experience itself is anything but subtle: joy, happiness, ecstasy, and contentment quite beyond anything one could imagine. With practice, you’ll be able to get there almost every time you sit for twenty to thirty minutes — if you desire it.
Access Concentration
First, you need to be able to achieve access concentration. I highly recommend this book to help you get there (and beyond):
The Mind Illuminated – Culadasa & Matthew Immergut
Access concentration is the point at which the mind is totally unified upon a singular object of attention. The breath becomes fine and detailed, and you begin to clearly distinguish between the focus of your attention and what sits in your peripheral awareness.
To get there you must pass through many layers of stillness. The first step is for the inner storm to die down and for focus to be locked into the object of meditation. Eventually, you will notice that everything feels tranquil. Attention follows the cycle of the breath and the mind is not darting away. The key at this point is to seek out the movement still existing in the mind. Like ripples on the surface of water. The pool hall is silent now, but you still see no reflection in the water. There are many layers to the subtle motion of the subconscious. I have found the absence of movement to be the only thing we seek out in meditation. It is always beneficial to wander in the direction of stillness.
Finding Contentment
The most important thing is to feel completely happy with whatever state you find yourself in. If you desire to reach Jhana, or think of it as a goal, you’ll never get there. You need to find a place within you that is utterly content. Tell yourself, “This is perfect — the stillness and silence within me are all I need.”
That feeling is what you absorb yourself in. Just breathe into it.
An Exercise for Finding This Place
Meditate for around twenty minutes, gently building your concentration. Now, within all of us there is a stillness — a silence, a spaciousness. It’s a deep, calm oasis of the mind, almost like a mental image of awareness itself. Within this space resides everything you ever perceive or think.
After those twenty minutes, become aware of your stillness. Feel it. Sit with it for a while.
Now notice your own silence. All sounds around you are external — cars, birds, people. None of it matters, because within you there is only stillness and silence (apart from the slow, gentle undulations of the breath). Sit with that. Be aware of it.
Next, feel the space that this stillness and silence reside within. Notice how thoughts and sensations drift through it, and in the space between them there’s only that deep, warm, comforting stillness inside you.
Another way to find this space — one I find very effective — is to take a massive step back. Instead of watching the breath, observe the mind watching the breath. It’s as if you’re standing beneath a huge curved mirror, calmly watching everything the mind is doing. The breath becomes consciously automatic. You can watch it rise and fall while remaining fully aware of the inner state of the mind.
Understanding Jhana
A common misconception I once had is that Jhana is a single, fixed state — a sort of nirvana. It’s more useful to visualise it as a graph: on the x-axis sits the stage or level of Jhana (which I won’t go into here), and on the y-axis sits the level of absorption or depth. The depth determines how powerful the experience is, while the stages relate to letting go — of joy, happiness, and even rapture — until only pure contentment remains.
The more you practise, the deeper you’ll be able to go. You can have very light Jhana states, and that’s fine. The key is to let go of everything and flow into it.
In the state described above, just get used to that space within you. Enjoy its presence and learn to rest there effortlessly. If your mind wanders, gently return to the breath for a while — the breath is your anchor.
At some point, you’ll likely feel a bubbling of joy within you. It may feel like a current of energy running up your spine, or just a gentle warmth. These sensations can manifest in many ways. The key is to remain neutral. Don’t will it to rise or return if it fades. You don’t need to desire anything, because simply being connected to that inner stillness is perfect as it is.
Stay there — gently and calmly observing this deep, abstract space within the larger space of your mind. With time, the feeling will grow. As long as you remain tethered to that sense of everything being perfect as it is, the feeling will expand. This rise in pīti (as it’s known traditionally) is the first sign of Jhana.
Moving from Pīti to Jhana
At first, I thought the rising feelings of joy and euphoria were Jhana. The breakthrough came when I allowed these sensations to build so intensely that I couldn’t physically take any more — until it felt like bursting through the top of my head and levelling off, like reaching altitude. Once you can tap into these feelings, your practice will become far more rewarding. Keep cultivating them; each time you sit, let them grow. Carve those pathways deeper into the forest of your mind.
My understanding of Jhana is that it’s a specific state of flow you can dip in and out of — a total letting go of resistance. You can use any unifying object of mind to enter it: a bright white light behind your eyes (which takes you very deep but is harder), or — best of all, in my opinion — this feeling of pīti.
Open yourself to it. Try making a deep, breathy sigh as you imagine yourself in pleasure. It’s a little like that — but drawn out, internalised, and suffused through your mind. You simply drift into the feeling, allowing it to envelop you — wrapping around from the front and joining at the back, submerging you in bliss.
It’s a flow state.
Imagine you’re floating in zero gravity, your body made of hundreds of small segments held together by tiny hands. Their natural state is to drift apart, but the hands hold you under a subtle tension. Let the glue dissolve. Don’t resist as the pieces drift away. Stay utterly still with the feeling and observe. The mind will want to resist — just let it happen and trust that it’s safe.
It’s also like skiing or sliding down water. The natural instinct is to maintain friction to stay in control — but once you let go, you realise how effortless it all becomes.
Jhana is the complete release of control.
Concentration is tension.
Jhana is effortless.
