shakaizen
Meditation
What’s taught is concentration (dharana)—training attention to remain on a chosen object—with the understanding that meditation (dhyana) may arise if practice deepens sufficiently. The approach is honest about this distinction.
"Dharana is the binding of consciousness to a single point." — Yoga Sutra 3.1
The word “meditation” has been stretched so thin in contemporary usage that it means almost nothing. Sitting quietly is meditation. Sitting with music is meditation. Mindfulness exercises are meditation. Guided visualizations are meditation. Body scans are meditation. Even certain yoga classes market themselves as “meditation in motion.”
This linguistic collapse obscures a critical distinction that classical yoga texts make explicit: you don’t “do” meditation. You practice concentration (dharana), and if that practice deepens sufficiently, meditation (dhyana) occurs as a natural consequence.
Meditation is a state, not a technique.
What the texts actually say:
The Yoga Sutras of Patanjali outline an eight-limbed path, with the final three limbs forming a progression:
- Dharana (concentration): Binding consciousness to a single point
- Dhyana (meditation): Uninterrupted flow of awareness toward the object of concentration
- Samadhi (absorption): Subject and object merge; the meditator, act of meditation, and object of meditation become one
Patanjali describes these three as samyama—a unified process where each stage flows into the next when conditions are right. You practice dharana. If dharana deepens and sustains without interruption, it becomes dhyana. If dhyana continues, it may culminate in samadhi.
The progression is sequential and can’t be forced. You can’t skip concentration and jump straight to meditation any more than you can skip learning scales and play a symphony. The foundational work must be established first.
What you actually practice:
What’s practiced—what can be practiced—is concentration: training attention to remain on a chosen object without wandering.
The object of concentration might be:
- Breath sensation
- A mantra (repeated sound or phrase)
- A visual focus point (candle flame, yantra)
- Body sensation
- A philosophical concept
- The space between thoughts
The practice is simple but not easy: place attention on the chosen object, notice when it wanders, return it to the object, repeat. Again and again and again.
This is dharana—concentration practice. Not meditation, but the training that makes meditation possible.
Why the distinction matters:
When you think you’re “doing meditation,” you’re trying to produce a state through effort. This creates tension and self-consciousness—the opposite of what meditation actually is.
When you understand you’re practicing concentration, the task becomes clear: train attention to stay where you direct it. Success isn’t measured by achieving some special state, but by how quickly you notice distraction and how smoothly you return focus.
Sometimes, if conditions align—body stable from asana, breath refined through pranayama, nervous system calm, concentration sustained—the effort of focusing gives way to effortless absorption. Attention flows toward the object without strain. The sense of being someone who’s concentrating dissolves. Subject/object boundary thins.
This is dhyana—meditation as a state that arises rather than an action you perform.
It might last seconds. It might not happen at all for months or years of practice. You can’t force it, can’t schedule it, can’t guarantee it. You can only create conditions that make it more likely.
What happened to meditation:
Western psychology and the mindfulness movement reframed meditation as stress management technique, stripping away its context within the yogic path. Apps promise “meditation” after a 3-minute guided session. Studios offer “meditation classes” that are actually guided relaxation. Research studies measure “meditation” but are actually testing concentration exercises.
This isn’t wrong—concentration practice produces legitimate benefits for stress, anxiety, emotional regulation, attention span, and mental health. Calling it “meditation” rather than “concentration training” is just semantic confusion.
The problem emerges when people practice concentration exercises for years, experience the benefits, but never understand that meditation itself—dhyana—is something else entirely. They’ve learned the scales but don’t know a symphony exists.
Contemporary teachers often avoid this distinction because it sounds esoteric or gatekeeping. But the distinction is practical: if you’re expecting meditation to happen because you sat for 20 minutes with eyes closed, you’ll be frustrated when nothing seems to occur. If you understand you’re training concentration and that meditation may eventually arise from that training, your relationship to practice becomes realistic and sustainable.
How concentration is taught at Shakaizen:
Prerequisites established first: You can’t concentrate if your body is screaming for position change every 3 minutes. You can’t settle attention if breath is chaotic and nervous system activated. This is why asana and pranayama aren’t optional—they create the baseline stability that makes concentration possible.
Minimum requirements:
- Ability to sit comfortably for 20-30 minutes without major physical distraction
- Basic breath control—smooth, steady, unforced breathing
- Enough body awareness to recognize and release unconscious tension
- Understanding that this is training, not achievement
Concentration techniques taught progressively:
Breath as object: The most accessible starting point—attention on breath sensation at nostrils, chest, or abdomen. Simple but not easy. Most beginners can’t maintain attention for more than a few seconds before thought pulls awareness elsewhere.
Mantra practice: Silent or whispered repetition of a sound or phrase. The vibration and rhythm provide anchor for attention. Traditional mantras carry specific intentions; even neutral sounds like “so-hum” (coordinated with breath) function effectively.
Body scanning: Systematic movement of attention through body parts. Not relaxation exercise, but concentration training—can you keep attention where you direct it for the duration of the scan?
Visual concentration: External focus (candle flame, yantra) or internal visualization. Eyes-open practice useful for those who get drowsy with closed-eye techniques.
Witness consciousness: More advanced: observing thoughts without engagement, watching mental activity from slight distance. This requires established concentration—beginners attempting this usually just get lost in thought while believing they’re observing it.
For whom:
This approach is for practitioners who want to understand what they’re actually practicing rather than using “meditation” as catch-all term for sitting quietly.
For those willing to train concentration systematically—not expecting immediate meditation states, but building the capacity that makes meditation possible.
For people who’ve tried meditation apps, studio classes, or self-guided practice and sensed there’s something deeper being pointed to that instructions aren’t capturing.
For practitioners ready to develop a sustainable practice based on realistic understanding rather than inflated promises about what 10 minutes of daily “meditation” will produce.
The honest assessment:
You will practice concentration (dharana). You will get better at it—more stable, less distracted, able to sustain focus longer.
You may experience meditation (dhyana) if practice deepens sufficiently and conditions align. Or you may not, and that’s still valuable practice.
You almost certainly won’t experience samadhi (the complete absorption described as yoga’s ultimate aim) unless you dedicate years to intensive practice—and even then, no guarantees.
But concentration alone—the ability to direct and sustain attention voluntarily—transforms daily life more than most people realize. It’s not the mystical promise that marketing sells, but it’s the practical foundation that everything else depends on.
You don’t do meditation. You practice concentration consistently and skillfully, create conditions through asana and pranayama, and allow meditation to arise if and when it will.
That’s the honest teaching. Less exciting than “master meditation in 21 days,” but actually transmittable and achievable.