A practitioner shared that back in March, she had asked Pra Ajarn for guidance on practice and applied it. The first method he suggested was to be aware of body, feeling, mind, and mental objects (kāya-vedanā-citta-dhamma). After sitting for a while, though, her mind would grow restless and slip away, blur, and drift into sleep; after some time asleep, she'd wake with a start, and the mind would then gather — a bright, clear whiteness appearing at her forehead, though it faded quickly. Even without restlessness or drowsiness, she could feel the body growing more refined and pure, and after leaving meditation she felt calm. Later, she asked for further guidance, and Pra Ajarn suggested counting "Samma Araham" — one, two, three, and onward, returning to the count if she lost track. She practiced this way continuously for seven days, without drowsiness or much restlessness, and the mind gathered faster than before — but after leaving meditation, she felt more irritated and impatient than before. She asked why this happened.

These two methods differ. The first — noting body, feeling, mind, and mental objects — leads toward wisdom-liberation: liberation through wisdom, knowing and understanding things as they truly are, not clinging to a sense of self or other, which brings the mind to a calm, cool stillness and allows one to see the overall shape of life. The second — counting "Samma Araham" — belongs to mind-liberation, where everything must remain under the mind's control. When everything is meant to stay under the mind's control this way, a certain kind of mind can arise that's bent on getting exactly what it wants, and the unwholesome slips in to make sure things go the way it wants — everything must remain under one's own control.

With mind-liberation, if what we're doing isn't aimed at letting the mind relax and feel at ease, but instead hopes for some result or experience, irritation arises once we leave the session — because during the practice, we were hoping for a particular outcome. But producing that outcome is the job of the system that manages it; our role is only to maintain awareness continuously, without lapsing, noting pleasantly and at ease, in a good mood, expecting nothing at all — aiming only to draw in energy so the wholesome system can refine and clear away defilement on its own. But if we do it because we want to get something, want things to go our way, want a particular experience, it becomes a life that demands everything go according to our own wishes — with the unwholesome behind it, driving us to control the people around us, whether children, spouse, employees, or friends, to make them conform to what we want. When this happens, no one wants to stay close to us, because the unwholesome lies behind it, and all kinds of problems follow.

What should be done is simply to maintain awareness during the recitation. If counting "Samma Araham" one, two, three, there's no need to hope for a result, because the result is the mechanism of the wholesome, which finishes clearing whenever it finishes — that's its own affair. Our role is to train this recitation until it becomes automatic — practicing until it becomes so familiar it happens on its own, not hoping for results. We must train until the whole process of recitation and its accompanying mental image unfolds automatically — like singing a favorite song every day until it's stuck in your head, so that even after you stop singing out loud, the mind keeps singing it on its own. We must train it until it's just as deeply ingrained, practicing continuously, day and night, until the sound of "Samma Araham" or the image of the Buddha arises entirely on its own. Only by practicing until it becomes this familiar.