Establishing Daily Practice

Practical Guidance for Continuing

<– Return to Syllabus

What Now?

The previous module introduced a meditation technique—the basic instructions for working with breath and attention. Some of us may have tried the guided practice already, perhaps several times. Others may be planning to start soon. Some may have been meditating for years before encountering this curriculum and are curious what Buddhist meditation theory offers.

Wherever we are with practice, certain questions naturally arise. How much should we meditate? What’s realistic given our lives? Is something supposed to happen during meditation? How do we know whether we’re approaching this correctly? And more fundamentally: what are we actually doing when we sit down to observe our breath or any other meditation technique?

These questions matter because they determine whether meditation becomes part of our lives or remains something we tried briefly and set aside. The instructions in the previous module presented one technique for learning how to meditate—follow the breath, notice wandering, return attention. But they didn’t address why we’re doing this, what meditation aims at, or how to establish a sustainable relationship with practice.

The two videos in this module address these questions directly. The first examines what meditation is actually aimed at, challenging common assumptions about what we’re trying to achieve. The second addresses the practical realities of developing a meditation practice over time—how it unfolds, what to expect, and how to structure our approach sustainably.

What to watch for: This video reframes what meditation is actually aimed at. Notice the distinction between three types of happiness and which one meditation targets. Pay attention to why “false assumptions about reality” matter for meditation practice.

Video 1: Introduction to Buddhist Meditation

Duration: 25 minutes

What Brought Us Here

The video distinguished three types of happiness—but more important than the categories is the question they raise: which type have we actually been pursuing?

Many of us arrived at meditation seeking something. Relief from anxiety. Better focus. A sense of meaning. Peace. These aren’t wrong motivations. But they may point toward something more fundamental we haven’t yet named: a dissatisfaction that runs deeper than any particular problem, and that persists even when our problems are temporarily solved.

If we can identify through self-reflection any subtle sense of dis-ease or discontent, it deserves our attention—not as some depressing conclusion, but as something to look objectively into. By investigating our dissatisfaction, we can begin to see the source of it more clearly. So rather than trying to get rid of our underlying dissatisfaction, we need to recognize and investigate it thoroughly. What is important here is to reframe what matters and what we’re looking for. When meditation doesn’t immediately make us feel better, we are not failing but getting a deeper look at the baseline of how we tend to struggle. Rather than trying to force ourselves into permanent pleasant feelings (affective happiness) or constantly spinning a tale about gaining some future life satisfaction, we look into our basic dis-ease and begin to investigate whether we can locate within our awareness an even more fundamental kind of ease—something we are calling “existential happiness”—that doesn’t depend on circumstances being pleasant or on us achieving certain life goals.

That investigation requires regular, sustained practice before it yields fruits—just as a jogger would never expect the well-known cardio-benefits of jogging without actually jogging daily. The next video addresses a practical question: given that this exploration takes time, what does it involve to actually establish meditation as a daily part of our lives?

On “Faithful practice” and Investigation

It worth self-reflecting for a moment on what else drew us here. Something beyond the wish for happiness. Curiosity about our mind or experience. Dissatisfaction with superficial explanations of life. A sense that meditation might be a valuable tool for piecing together our puzzle. Perhaps inspiration from encountering Buddhist ideas or teachers. Whatever form it took, that open-minded interest—that felt sense that this is worth investigating—is the kernel of Buddhist notion of “faith” central to doing the practices aimed at investigating the truth of our daily experience for ourselves.

But let’s be clear. Learning Buddhist meditation doesn’t require adopting beliefs, like karma or rebirth. It requires only enough trust to experiment with the meditation techniques, look into our experience, and see what happens. The Buddhist tradition offers observational tools: a microscope (meditation methods) and research questions (things to look for) and a laboratory guide (how to create retreat spaces dedicated to research). We can use them all without accepting any part of the framework as a final truth.

Speaking personally: my highest pursuit is truth itself and I have found Buddhist methods incredibly helpful for investigating the mind and what it means to live a meaningful life. I have my doubts about certain Buddhist histories, miraculous claims, and theories of practice. But on the whole I have discovered that the Buddhist teachings remain remarkably aligned with what investigation of my own experience reveals. If the Buddhist teachings were ever to contradict my direct experience or careful consideration—based on everything I know from physics, biology, neuroscience, philosophy, anthropology, psychology, the history of religions—then I would gladly acknowledge it. Although the palace of learning curriculum presents the theory behind Buddhist practices whose benefits I have directly experienced, it may be worth stating outright: my allegiance is ultimately to truth, not tradition.

Likewise, when you are learning about Buddhist meditation theory, you should not feel like you are being asked to subscribe to a religion and adopt its assumptions. You should feel like you are learning a scientific method to investigate all assumptions—whether they be Buddhist or non-Buddhist—in pursuit of understanding what’s actually true. The meditation theory is not a belief system about reality that we need to adopt. It is a framework to help guide our own experimentation with a powerful investigative tool and to test our own assumptions about reality. The point of recognizing what is really happening is to better adapt to our circumstances and create a better lifeworld for ourselves and others. Toward that end, we take up the meditation technique only provisionally, see what it reveals, and revise our understanding based on results.

If that orientation resonates—if truth matters more to us than comfort or belonging—then we have exactly the kind of “faith” required for exploring the palace of learning to find the gems of Buddhist wisdom. The video ahead explains how the Buddhist tradition describes the process. Don’t worry if you are not familiar with the terms “Buddha” or “Dharma” (his teachings) or “Samsara” (cyclically painful existence), we will delve into those in the following modules.

What to watch for: The meaning of “faith” in Buddhism—it’s not what we might expect. The crucial practical instruction about session length. The metaphors for how meditation experience matures over time. What “being in the zone” has to do with contemplative practice.

Video 2: Faithful Practice & Intellectual Study

Duration: 46 minutes

When Practice Feels Dry

The video offered maturation metaphors—waterfall to ocean—but didn’t address what happens in the long stretches when nothing seems to be changing. This is worth naming directly.

There will be periods when meditation feels pointless. When we sit down and nothing happens except boredom or restlessness. When we’ve been practicing for weeks and can’t point to any benefit. When the initial inspiration fades and we’re left wondering why we’re doing this.

These periods aren’t signs of failure. They’re part of the maturation process—often the part just before something shifts. The instruction remains the same: maintain the minimum commitment. Not because willpower is virtuous, but because continuity is what allows the cumulative effects to emerge. We can’t force the waterfall to become the ocean. We can only keep showing up.

The video’s key instruction—short sessions, many times—addresses this directly. We’re not trying to become meditation heroes. We’re establishing a sustainable relationship with observing our own minds. Better to sit for five minutes every day than to meditate for an hour twice and then quit.

The question isn’t whether dry periods will come. They will. The question is whether we’ve structured our practice sustainably enough to continue through them. That’s why the minimum commitment matters so much: it’s the amount we can maintain even when meditation feels utterly pointless.

A few Insights:

The videos introduced several frameworks that deserve attention. The three types of happiness—affective, satisfaction, existential—aren’t just categories. They’re a diagnostic tool for distinguishing aspects of our experience and understanding our own motivations. Most of us oscillate between chasing pleasant feelings and pursuing life satisfaction through achievement. Both strategies work temporarily. Both ultimately leave us wanting.

The suggestion that there’s a third option—an ease that doesn’t depend on circumstances or accomplishments—may sound too good to be true. And maybe it is. That’s what the investigation is for. We don’t have to believe it’s possible. We only have to be curious enough to find out.

The faith framework works similarly. We’re not being asked to accept anything on authority. We’re being invited to notice whether we already have enough interest—enough “dad pa”—to try these techniques and see what happens. That interest is all we need. The conviction the video described (the third stage of faith) develops through direct experience, not through forcing ourselves to believe.

The maturation metaphors matter because they set realistic expectations. We’re not looking for a single transformative experience. We’re developing a different way of relating to our own minds—something that unfolds gradually through consistent practice. The waterfall doesn’t become the ocean overnight. But it does become the ocean.

What struck me most about these teachings when I first encountered them: they’re not promising that meditation will make life easier. They’re suggesting that we can investigate the mechanism that makes life feel hard—and that investigation itself might reveal something unexpected about how the mind works.

That’s worth exploring. Not because we believe it will work, but because we’re curious whether it might.

Questions for Reflection

These questions support the establishment of daily practice. We can explore them through ordinary reflection, through journaling, or through contemplative investigation during meditation itself.

1. Our Minimum Commitment What amount of daily practice can we genuinely sustain—not heroically for a week, but consistently for months? Be honest. Better to commit to five minutes we’ll actually do than thirty minutes we’ll abandon. What’s our number?

2. Anchoring Practice When in our daily routine could meditation happen most reliably? Tied to waking? Before a meal? After brushing teeth? The more we can anchor practice to an existing habit, the more likely we are to maintain it. What anchor makes sense for our life?

3. The Three Types of Happiness Which type of happiness have we mostly been pursuing—affective (pleasant feelings), satisfaction (achieving goals), or something else? Has that pursuit been working? What would it mean to investigate the foundation beneath both?

4. Our Relationship to “Not Working” When meditation doesn’t seem to be “working”—when we feel distracted, restless, discouraged—what happens? Do we judge ourselves? Try harder? Give up? What would it look like to simply continue, neither forcing nor abandoning?

5. Faith as Interest Do we have enough interest—enough “dad pa”—to keep investigating? Not conviction that meditation will work, just curiosity about what might happen if we continue. Where does that interest come from? What feeds it?

<– Return to Foundation Syllabus

This module is part of Tarpa's Palace of Learning curriculum, a secular educational program exploring Buddhist philosophy, psychology, and contemplative practice. All content © 2025