Before we proceed, let’s be clear: meditation is beneficial for the mind, just as exercise is beneficial for the body.

This series is not an argument against meditation. Rather, it serves as a set of cautions—similar to the guidance you receive at the gym: don’t lift beyond your capacity, progress gradually, watch for fatigue, and take care of your body. These warnings highlight potential risks, but they do not make exercise harmful.

In the same way, these articles explore the potential pitfalls of meditation—things to be aware of as we train and reshape the mind for greater well-being.

With that understanding, let us continue.

Why It Is Important to Practice Vipassana

Vipassana, a Pali term meaning “clear seeing” or “insight,” can be understood more simply as seeing the true nature of our experience of existence.

This kind of seeing matters because it leads to awakening—what Buddhism calls Nirvana. But to understand why, we first need to be clear about what awakening actually means.

A useful starting point is the first stage of awakening: the Sotāpanna, or “stream-enterer.” Across Buddhist traditions, this stage is widely recognised as the point at which insight becomes irreversible.

A Sotāpanna is said to have abandoned three fundamental distortions:

• Identity View (Sakkāyadiṭṭhi): the belief in a fixed, independent self
• Skeptical Doubt (Vicikicchā): uncertainty about the path, the teachings, and the possibility of liberation
• Clinging to Rites and Rituals (Sīlabbataparāmāsa): the belief that external practices alone can lead to awakening

Of these, the most transformative is the first—the dissolution of identity view. In Mahayana and Vajrayana traditions, this insight is closely related to the realisation of Śūnyatā (emptiness), though expressed through different philosophical frameworks.

This is where Vipassana becomes essential.

Vipassana is not about adopting a new belief system, but about directly observing that what we call a “self” is not a singular, stable entity. Instead, it is a dynamic process—conditions arising and passing away, moment by moment.

When this is seen clearly, something subtle but profound shifts.

The sense of a solid “I” begins to soften. The feeling of being the fixed center of experience loosens. What once appeared to be a permanent identity reveals itself as a temporary formation—fragile, like a candle flame flickering in changing air.

As attachment to this constructed self weakens, so does the tendency to take experience personally. Aging, loss, and even death are still present—but they are no longer interpreted through the lens of “this is happening to me.”

This does not mean that nothing exists, nor does it deny our lived experience. Rather, it brings a deeper understanding: what we call a “person” is a contingent aggregation of physical and mental processes.

This insight can be deeply empowering.

If the self is not fixed, then our limitations are not fixed either. Our fears, anxieties, and habitual patterns are not intrinsic possessions—they are conditioned and therefore changeable. In this way, the practice opens a space for transformation.

Through continued observation, we begin to understand more clearly how craving, aversion, and ignorance give rise to suffering. And just as we naturally avoid fire once we understand its nature, we gradually learn to turn away from these causes of suffering—not out of suppression, but out of wisdom.

In summary, Vipassana is a practice of direct seeing. It reveals that our sense of “I” is not an enduring essence, but a constructed process. Recognising this is both liberating and empowering—it loosens suffering at its root while opening the possibility for genuine freedom.

The danger from misunderstanding Non-I.

From the earlier discussion, it should be clear that non-self (anattā) is something to be directly experienced—not merely understood as an idea.

Yet this is where difficulty arises. Many people approach non-self, or Śūnyatā (emptiness), primarily through intellectual reasoning. When this happens, misunderstanding can easily take root.

If we practice Vipassana while holding onto the goal of “realising non-self,” but instead of seeing it directly, we allow the mind to construct a concept of it, we may fall into extremes. The mind tends to interpret things in binary terms—either existence or non-existence. As a result, teachings like “non-self” or “emptiness” may be misread as a denial of our lived experience.

This is not what the Buddha taught.

When misunderstood, these concepts can distort perception. One might begin to feel detached in an unhealthy way—not as wisdom, but as disconnection. Confusion can arise, and the boundary between careful observation and mental projection may blur. A person may even drift into the belief that everything—and everyone—is merely an illusion in a dismissive or nihilistic sense.

That is not insight. That is confusion.

Such misunderstanding can also affect behaviour. If one wrongly concludes that “nothing is real” or “nothing matters,” it may lead to ethical carelessness—disregarding consequences, social responsibilities, or even basic compassion. This is a serious deviation from the path, not a progression along it.

In authentic practice, insight into non-self does not lead to indifference—it leads to greater clarity, responsibility, and compassion.

For this reason, it is important to develop the ability to recognise when the mind is fabricating views instead of seeing clearly.

This is where Samatha (calm-abiding) meditation plays a crucial role.

Samatha stabilises and quiets the mind. It reduces the tendency toward discursive thinking—the constant stream of interpretations, judgments, and conceptual overlays. With a calmer mind, we are less likely to mistake imagination for insight.

In this way, Samatha supports Vipassana. One steadies the mind; the other investigates reality. Together, they help prevent us from falling into extremes—whether of eternalism (believing in a fixed self) or nihilism (denying meaningful existence altogether).

This reflects a deeper truth within the Noble Eightfold Path: each aspect supports the others. Wisdom, concentration, and ethical conduct are not separate tracks, but an integrated whole.

When practiced together, they guide us safely—away from confusion, and toward genuine understanding.

May all be well and happy.

To be continued

Danger of Meditation – Part 6: Third-eye meditation and your sanity. Your breath, posture, and general health. Can’t sleep after doing meditation?

(Feel free to drop a suggestion in case I missed anything, and I’ll try to talk about it if I had learnt it before)