The Cycle of Samatha is a simple teaching that invites us to dwell richly and appreciatively in the present moment. Actually it's so simple, that on hearing it for the first time, many people feel that they have already known it for years. It's just that somehow they had forgotten. In our busy lives, simplicity can often be quite elusive. Some people have asked, what is the cycle of samatha and where does it come from? It's not a new translation of an ancient text, nor could I say with any honesty that it's something that I invented.

This cycle, which reminds us of the heart of healing and meditation, came spontaneously into mind, one day, while I was walking towards the teaching hall at Wangapeka to give a class to a group of people who were new to meditative work. Although the cycle appears to be quite simple, it is the fruition of more than twenty five years of study and contemplation in various schools of Buddhism, and more than eighteen years of teaching. During the following months, sharing this with many people around the world, it has proven to be a valuable tool, not only for beginners but also for people who have been engaged in meditative practices for many years. It is a teaching that feels natural and do-able for newcomers while at the same time pointing to the deepest realizations of the contemplative life.

There are so many methods of contemplation already available today. I don't think we really need any more. The problem is not lack of guidance but that we forget our spiritual or meditative practices, often at the very moment we most need them. You could think of the Cycle of Samatha as a direct reminder of what we already know. Expressed in just five words, it's easy to remember and it can immediately enrich our lives and the lives of others around us.

As you read this, please allow yourself to pause every sentence or two; to smile and breathe and enjoy the present moment. Don't rush through the text searching for a technique or some new facts to salt away in your information deposit box; more great ideas that somehow never grow beyond the initial burst of enthusiasm. Consider this writing as an invitation, from me to you, and in a mysterious way, from you to me; somehow gently calling to each other. Think of it as an invitation to leisurely stroll through a beautiful garden or to sip tea in a tranquil moment while sharing something very precious, heart speaking to heart.

Samatha (pronounced sah-mah-tah) is a Sanskrit word that is usually translated as calm or tranquillity. If we examine it in greater detail though, we can find a richer level of meaning. English is part of the Indo-European group of languages with roots tracing back into both Latin and Sanskrit. The word Samma actually means complete or total. Our English word sum, as in adding up a number of figures, comes from this root. The "tha" part is really a shortened form of the Sanskrit root stha, which is associated with the idea of firmness or solidity. In English, stha gave rise to words such as stand and stationary. Putting samma and tha together we find the idea of standing completely firm: solid and unshakably present in the midst of whatever is arising.

Here we discover a wonderful thing and to some people it comes as quite a surprise. We're not talking about a calm that results from "pouring oil on troubled waters" or a tranquillity that arises through suppressing or controlling a particular activity; not stillness as opposed to something dynamic but calmness and clarity manifesting naturally, in the midst of activity. In your imagination, come with me to the retreat centre at Wangapeka. Just across the road runs the cold and clear Wangapeka River. At certain times of the year, delicate white flower petals from the Kanuka trees, fall into the water and float down stream. Imagine you are sitting on the green mossy rocks, shaded by a grove of black beech trees. The sunlight is filtering through the leaves. Bell birds and tuis are calling to each other, their liquid notes highlighting the purity of the air. Wood pigeons coo back and forth across the stream. The water is swirling by, bubbling, whirlpooling, dancing through the rocks on the way to the Tasman Sea. It seems amazing that the delicate white flowers speeding past, are not crushed in the turbulent flow.

Imagine further that you are a Kanuka flower, floating in this same stream. You are relaxed. You cannot see the river bank rushing by. As far as you are concerned, you are easefully at rest in the water. A delicate cluster of petals cradled in the crystal clear surface tension of the stream. As bystanders, we see the flower racing down a dangerous course. The petal, however, is simply resting where it is. Can you see a connection between this and your life?

The cycle of samatha is a reminder of how to rest easefully in life's bubbling stream of constant change. It encourages us to let go of the deeply ingrained habit of being a bystander and to enter the flowing of life; to release ourselves fully into the dynamic living presence of this moment. Whenever we hang on to the bank, we are using our energy to avoid being washed away. And yet we might ask ourselves if constantly hanging on is enough to make life feel meaningful and worth living or is it actually an unnecessary struggle?

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