A Conversation About Buddhism
Author: Anup Poudyal
Publisher: The Middle Way Publications
Edition: Authorised Machine-Accessible Edition
Section: Chapter 30
Chapter Title: Four Bases of Spiritual Power
Pāli Title: Iddhipādā
Copyright: © 2026 Anup Poudyal. All rights reserved.

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CHAPTER TEXT

Chapter 30: Four Bases of Spiritual Power Iddhipādā

In the previous chapter, we explored how right effort matures into reliable inner faculties that begin to govern the mind. We also went further and saw how the same faculties can become limbs of power when fully developed.

At this stage of development, something important needs to be addressed. When mindfulness, samādhi, and effort are highly refined, the texts describe abilities that can appear unusual or even extraordinary, capacities that do not sit comfortably within ordinary logic, reason, or current scientific explanation. Because of this, teachings on spiritual power are often dismissed as myth, reduced to metaphor, or confined to private inner experience.

To do justice to the topic of spiritual powers, we will approach it from several directions at once:

- We will stay true to the Dhamma.

- We will not undermine the importance that the Buddha placed on this teachings.

- We will recognise the danger of the misuse of power.

- We will see how far science can take us, without forcing it beyond its proper limits.

Let us look at each of these points in turn, so that this chapter can be seen for what it is, and so that we can understand our own position in relation to socalled ‘supernatural’ powers.

1. We Will Stay True to the Dhamma.

We will not dismiss spiritual powers as mere myth, nor reduce them to some-

thing that happens only as a private, subjective projection in the mind. We will also not subtly imply that only the unintelligent, uneducated, childish, or ‘airy-fairy’ would take these teachings seriously.

Instead, we will first present the teachings on iddhipāda as they appear in the suttas and are ascribed to the Buddha himself, without dismissing them outright or becoming infatuated with them. Our approach is one of respectful accuracy, seeking to understand what is actually taught before deciding what to make of it.

2. We Will Not Undermine Its Importance.

According to the texts, the Buddha did not treat this topic as trivial. The

four bases of spiritual power are presented as significant aspects of the path, especially in relation to deep concentration and the focused application of the mind.

At the same time, we will be clear that the development of spiritual powers is not the final goal of the practice. Liberation from suffering (Nibbāna) remains the central aim. Thus, we will not encourage a restless craving for powers, but allow our understanding of this subject to unfold naturally within the broader framework of ethics, concentration, and wisdom.

3. We Will Recognise the Danger of Misuse of Power.

Although extraordinary abilities appear in numerous early Buddhist texts, the discourses are also cautious about their display, their misuse, and the danger of becoming attached to them. This reflects an important distinction: possessing unusual abilities is not the same as being liberated from greed, hatred, and delusion.

Just as working with atomic energy can bring immense benefit or unimaginable harm, so too the development of spiritual powers can bring great help or great harm. When combined with greed, hatred, and delusion, such abilities can amplify harm on a large scale. When combined with wisdom and compassion, they can become a skilful means. Our approach, therefore, must be sober, ethical, and grounded in right intention.

4. We Will See How Far Science Can Take Us, Without Forcing It Beyond Its Limits.

Science can describe how certain processes unfold, such as how hydrogen and oxygen, under the appropriate conditions, can react to produce water, even if it does not fully answer why reality is structured in this way at the deepest level.

Similarly, when we consider spiritual powers, we will not force scientific explanations where none honestly fit, nor will we pretend that everything can be reduced to current scientific models. Where something cannot be reliably tested or measured with the methods available to us, we will acknowledge those limits.

We will:

- Distinguish clearly between what is grounded in canonical sources and what is personal interpretation or speculation.

- State assumptions openly as assumptions, not present them as facts.

- Allow open questions to remain open, rather than closing them prematurely with dogmatic certainty, either for or against.

In this spirit, faithful to the Dhamma, honest about the importance and the danger of power, and respectful of the strengths and limits of science, we now turn to explore the four bases of spiritual power (iddhipāda) themselves.

(Side Detour)

Question 1

A little earlier, when discussing how we would approach this subject, the phrase ‘so-called supernatural powers’ appeared during the AI-assisted editorial process. It is only two words, and a reader could easily pass over them without noticing. But ‘so-called’ can carry an implication of doubt before we have even examined what the Buddha actually taught.

I find that interesting. Could wording like this reflect patterns of language common in modern academic and sceptical discussions of claims that fall outside conventional scientific explanation? And if so, how do we distinguish useful editorial caution from an assumption that has quietly entered the discussion before the evidence has been considered?

Answer

Yes. And this is a useful example of something worth watching carefully when working with artificial intelligence.

AI does not generate language from an entirely neutral linguistic landscape. It has learned patterns from a vast range of human writing, en-

compassing many different perspectives and ways of speaking. When subjects such as supernatural or spiritual powers arise, its wording can therefore reflect linguistic conventions found in modern discourse, including cautious or sceptical ones. We cannot know from the wording alone precisely why a particular phrase appeared, but ‘so-called’ is consistent with that kind of linguistic pattern.

The important point is that such wording tells us nothing about whether the powers themselves are real, unreal, literal, symbolic, or culturally conditioned. Yet language matters. In ordinary English, ‘so-called’ often carries an implication of scepticism, even when dismissal is not intended. If such language enters the discussion before the textual evidence has been examined, it can quietly tilt the framing towards doubt.

This illustrates something important about using AI as a companion in an inquiry like ours. Its usefulness lies partly in its ability to draw upon many different ways of presenting, but those same patterns can carry assumptions with them. We should remain attentive, question the framing when necessary, and return to the evidence.

In this case, the cleaner approach is to present what the early discourses say about spiritual powers as accurately as we can, distinguish the canonical material from interpretation and speculation, and allow the question of what ultimately lies behind these accounts to remain open. That gives neither belief nor scepticism an advantage before the investigation has begun.

Author’s Note 30.1

In modern Buddhist writing, certain phrases have become almost customary when addressing extraordinary or non-ordinary phenomena. Expressions such as the ones listed below appear frequently:

- ‘whether one reads this literally or symbolically...’

- ‘Whether one understands this literally or metaphorically...’

- ‘However one chooses to relate to these accounts, whether as historical events or as teaching stories...’

These formulations serve an important function. They allow space for multiple interpretations and protect the discussion from collapsing into dogmatism or sceptical dismissal.

At the same time, language is never neutral. Repeated use of such phrasing can quietly signal the boundaries of what is considered intellectually

respectable to take seriously. For many practitioners, this creates an unspoken pressure: curiosity about these teachings can begin to feel unsophisticated, as though the correct posture is already one step removed from the text itself.

Beyond these considerations lies a greater structural difficulty. The Buddhist tradition brings together three domains that do not easily align within modern discourse:

1. A rigorous philosophy of liberation whose principles can be examined and tested through practice

2. Detailed accounts of extraordinary mental capacities that can be difficult for a modern reader to accept

3. A world now shaped by scientific modes of explanation, where claims generally require systematic testing and reproducible evidence before gaining broad acceptance.

Each operates according to different standards of evidence, language, and purpose. Attempts to collapse them into a single explanatory framework often leave out something essential.

The intention here is not to criticise this approach, nor to insist on literal belief. It is simply to acknowledge how wording shapes the atmosphere. When topics are consistently softened or deferred, the reader may feel subtly discouraged from engaging fully with what the tradition actually presents. Being honest about this dynamic allows us to read more carefully, with less embarrassment and more openness.

For this exploration, no final position is required in advance. What matters is not certainty, but openness. Rather than deciding too quickly what must be believed, dismissed, or explained away, we can allow the questions to remain alive and see what they reveal over time.

(End of Detour)

Question 2

In the previous discussion, we treated the four bases of spiritual power (iddhipāda) as Right Effort matured and channelled through four qualities:

1. Motivated interest (chanda) 2. Steady energy (viriya)

3. Unified mind (citta)

4. Wise investigation (vīmaṃsā)

I would now like to move beyond explanation and into actual training instructions.

1. Practical Cultivation Methods (Step by Step)

According to the early Pāli discourses, especially later systematic meditation manuals such as the Visuddhimagga, what are the concrete meditation methods used to cultivate each iddhipāda in practice?

For each base, please describe:

- The specific mental attitude or exercise used to establish it

- What the practitioner actually does during sitting meditation

- How it is strengthened and stabilised over time

- What typical obstacles arise, and what corrective methods are recommended

- How it is recognised when that base has become ‘developed’ rather than merely conceptual

2. Sequencing and Dependency

Where the sources provide a sequence, what is the correct order of training? For example:

- Does one begin with intention and effort before the mind becomes stable?

- Does samādhi need to be established first before investigation becomes effective?

- What is the progression described in the Visuddhimagga for moving from basic collectedness into states where iddhi powers become possible?

3. Balance vs Dominance

Finally, according to these sources, must all four bases be developed equally and held in balance for the accomplishment of iddhi powers?

Or can they be accomplished when one base is dominant, for example:

• Motivated interest dominant

- Steady energy dominant

- Unified mind dominant

- Wise investigation dominant

If dominance is possible, what minimum support from the other three is still required to prevent imbalance, delusion, or instability?

Answer

You are asking for practice instructions, not an overview. So I will stay close to the sources and describe how the texts present each iddhipāda as a way of establishing and strengthening samādhi, with clear signs of development and common pitfalls.

In the early discourses, the four bases of spiritual power (iddhipāda) are presented through the development of samādhi under four different leading qualities. The texts describe four ways in which samādhi becomes established and developed, each guided by a primary factor:

1. Samādhi based on intention or motivated interest (chanda) 2. Samādhi based on steady energy or effort (viriya)

3. Samādhi based on a unified and collected mind (citta)

4. Samādhi based on careful investigation (vīmaṃsā)

These qualities do support practice, but they are more than supporting factors. Each one can take the lead, shaping how samādhi is developed, sustained, and made effective.

In the explanation below, the term ‘meditation object’ refers to the* chosen focus that the mind is trained to remain with in order to devel-* op samādhi. In the suttas, this is often implied rather than stated as a technical term. For example, in mindfulness of breathing, the breath serves as the meditation object. In other practices, such as loving-kindness, the chosen theme becomes the object. In later manuals such as the Visuddhimagga, this same idea is explained more systematically. The object may initially be physical, such as a disk known as a kasiṇa, or purely mental, such as the perception of light or loving-kindness. The essential point is that samādhi develops when the mind is repeatedly gathered around a single theme until it becomes unified, stable, and clear.

1. Motivated Interest (Chanda)

To cultivate motivated inerest, the practitioner deliberately inclines the mind toward the goal of practice. This is not craving for attainment, but a clear preference for liberation over distraction. In sitting meditation, this is trained by establishing a clear intention before practice begins, and then maintaining a steady willingness to remain with the meditation object. When the mind wanders, chanda is strengthened through the act of returning, again and again, with a quiet inner recognition: ‘This is what matters.’

Over time, chanda becomes stable when practice no longer feels forced. The mind naturally turns toward meditation. A typical obstacle is that chanda can become mixed with ambition, which produces tension and disappointment. The corrective method is to return to a simpler motivation: the wish to understand suffering and its ending, rather than to chase results. When chanda is developed, the practitioner can sit consistently and remain engaged without needing constant emotional stimulation.

2. Steady Energy (Viriya)

To cultivate steady energy, the practitioner trains continuity of effort. Viriya is not intensity, but sustained application. In sitting meditation, this means repeatedly restoring alertness when the mind becomes dull, and repeatedly restraining the mind when it drifts into distraction. The Buddha’s emphasis on abandoning hindrances and maintaining wholesome states belongs directly here. Viriya is strengthened by refusing to let unwholesome tendencies become normal.

Over time, viriya becomes stable when the practitioner no longer swings between overstriving and collapse. A common obstacle is agitation or restlessness due to excess energy. The corrective method is to soften the effort while maintaining continuity. Another obstacle is sloth and torpor. The corrective method is to brighten posture, sharpen mindfulness, or temporarily shift to walking meditation until alertness returns. When viriya is developed, the mind remains workable even under pressure.

3. Unified Mind (Citta)

To cultivate a unified mind, the practitioner trains the mind to gather into one field rather than remain scattered. In sitting meditation, this is done by repeatedly staying with a single meditation object until attention becomes continuous and steady. The key training is simplification: reducing mental chatter, reducing wandering, and allowing the mind to unify around a single

theme.

Over time, citta becomes developed when collectedness is no longer

fragile. The mind can enter a state of steadiness more reliably, and disturbances no longer break concentration as easily. A common obstacle is the subtle excitement that arises when calm begins to appear. The corrective method is to relax effort and remain balanced rather than chasing deeper states. Another obstacle is fear or a sense of loss of control as the mind becomes quiet. The corrective method is to remain with mindfulness and let the mind settle naturally without resistance. When citta is developed, the practitioner can establish samādhi as a stable basis rather than an occasional experience.

4. Wise Investigation (Vīmaṃsā)

To cultivate wise investigation, the practitioner trains careful discernment of cause and effect. This is not a philosophical analysis. It is the ability to observe what conditions stability, what distracts, what strengthens samādhi, and what weakens it. In sitting meditation, this is practised by noticing patterns: what happens when attention becomes tight, what happens when it becomes lazy, what conditions bring calm, and what conditions produce agitation.

Over time, vīmaṃsā becomes developed when the practitioner can diagnose their own mind without confusion. Instead of being lost inside moods and reactions, they recognise the mechanics of the process. A common obstacle is that the investigation becomes excessive and turns into thinking. The corrective method is to return to the meditation object and keep the investigation practical, applied only when needed. When vīmaṃsā is developed, the mind becomes skilled, self-correcting, and increasingly able to maintain clarity without confusion.

Sequencing and Dependency

In the early discourses, the development of the four bases of spiritual power and the development of samādhi are closely intertwined. Their standard formulation presents each base in terms of samādhi supported by one of these leading qualities and accompanied by striving. Rather than functioning as entirely separate stages, samādhi deepens through the cultivation of these bases as the mind becomes increasingly unified and stable.

Later manuals, such as the Visuddhimagga, present the progression towards extraordinary powers much more systematically. The practitioner begins with foundational training, self-restraint, and purification of conduct, and develops increasingly deep concentration. The training then involves

mastery of jhāna and extensive cultivation of the mind, including practices connected with the kasiṇas and mastery of the fourth jhāna. As this training matures, the mind is described as becoming increasingly stable, malleable, and responsive. It is from this highly developed foundation that the manual proceeds to the cultivation of extraordinary abilities.

So the Broad Progression Is:

1. Ethical grounding and restraint

2. Weakening and abandoning the hindrances

3. Developing increasingly deep samādhi

4. Establishing advanced stability and mastery of the mind

5. Directing that highly developed mind towards the cultivation of extraordinary abilities

Balance vs Dominance

The early texts clearly allow for dominance. Each iddhipāda is presented as a valid primary base. This implies that different practitioners may develop spiritual power through different leading strengths. One may be driven primarily by motivated interest, another by steady energy, another by a unified mind, and another by wise investigation.

However, the texts also imply that none of these can function in isolation. Even if one base is dominant, the other three must be present as supporting conditions. Motivated interest without energy collapses. Energy without a unified mind scatters. A unified mind without investigation risks unexamined absorption. Investigation without collectedness becomes restless speculation.

So dominance is possible, but imbalance is dangerous. The four bases are best understood as four entry points into the same accomplishment. One may lead, but all must eventually cooperate.

In this way, iddhipāda is not a mystical exception to the path. It is the path itself, intensified and refined. When Right Effort matures into stable samādhi, and when that samādhi is sustained through these four bases, the mind becomes capable of extraordinary functioning. Whether such capacities manifest outwardly or remain inward, the training is clear: purification, steadiness, and the disciplined development of samādhi guided by these four foundations form a powerful and integral part of the path outlined by the

Buddha.

Question 3

That gives me a good general understanding of the whole process. Much of

it felt familiar, as it has already been presented in earlier chapters. However, this is the first time we have touched on concentration practice using physical objects, such as the round disk known as a kasiṇa. I would now like to explore that method in more detail.

You mentioned that in the Visuddhimagga, the development of samādhi is often explained through detailed, step-by-step training methods, especially in relation to kasiṇa practice. Could you describe that full process as clearly as possible, beginning with the first physical preparation and continuing all the way to the stabilisation of the mental image?

In Particular, I Would Like to Understand:

- What a kasiṇa disk is meant to look like, and how it should be prepared.

- Where it should be placed, how far away, and how the meditator should position the body and eyes.

- Exactly how one trains by looking at the disk, then closing the eyes, and then mentally re-establishing the image.

- How the learning sign (uggaha nimitta) develops, how it changes into the counterpart sign (paṭibhāga nimitta), and how this transition is recognised.

- What the practitioner does when the mental image becomes stable, and how samādhi is established upon it.

- How the object is eventually refined, simplified, or withdrawn, and what is meant by shifting into ‘emptiness’ or a subtler internal focus.

Finally, does the Visuddhimagga present this as a necessary route for the arising of iddhi, or only as one powerful method among several?

Answer

Kasiṇa practice is where the Visuddhimagga becomes most technical. It lays out a methodical training in sustained attention that moves from a physical support to a stable mental sign, and from there into the depths of samādhi

associated with higher attainments.

Before beginning this type of practice, it is important to be clear

about the foundation. Ethical conduct, restraint of the senses, and continuity of mindfulness are not optional steps that can be skipped. They form the ground upon which concentration can develop safely and steadily. When these supporting conditions are in place, the mind is less agitated, less conflicted, and more capable of unification.

What follows is a step-by-step description of the process as presented in the Visuddhimagga. The aim here is not to make this sound mystical, but to show that it is a disciplined training of attention, perception, and mental stability.

1. Preparing the Kasiṇa Disk

A kasiṇa is a deliberately simplified meditation object. It is designed to remove complexity so the mind can unify without distraction. The Visuddhimagga describes several kinds of kasiṇa, including earth, water, fire, air, and colour disks.

In practice, the most common starting point is an earth kasiṇa. Traditionally, this is made by preparing a clean, circular disk of clay, mud, or earth, then smoothing it evenly to achieve a visually uniform surface. The key requirement is that it should be simple, stable, and free from irregular patterns. The mind is meant to rest on a single visual theme, not be stimulated by details.

The disk is usually circular, because a circle provides symmetry and reduces visual distraction. It is not treated as a sacred symbol. It is treated as a training tool.

2. Placement and Physical Setup

The disk is placed in front of the meditator at an appropriate distance, generally at eye level or slightly below, so it can be looked at without strain. It should not be too close or too far. The key is that the disk must be clearly visible without effort, and the meditator must be able to hold attention on it without tightening the eyes or tensing the forehead.

The practitioner sits in a stable, upright but relaxed posture. The eyes are open at first. The purpose is not to stare aggressively, but to look gently and steadily, allowing the mind to settle into sustained attention. The aim at this stage is simple: to establish continuity of attention without unnecessary strain.

3. Looking, Then Closing the Eyes, Then Re-establishing the Image

The basic training is simple but demanding. The meditator looks at the disk for a period of time, then closes the eyes and attempts to hold the image internally. If the image fades, becomes unstable, or disappears, the meditator opens the eyes again and refreshes the perception.

This cycle is repeated again and again. The practitioner is training the mind to do something very specific: to hold one object without scattering.

At first, the internal image is weak, distorted, or unstable. It may wobble, flicker, break apart, or vanish quickly. That is normal. The practice is simply to keep returning, without frustration, until the mind becomes skilled.

4. The Arising of the Learning Sign (Uggaha-nimitta)

As the practice stabilises, the Visuddhimagga describes the arising of the uggaha-nimitta, the learning sign. This is the internal mental image of the kasiṇa disk. It is not yet purified. It may appear slightly uneven, discoloured, or imperfect. It is essentially a mental reproduction of what the eyes have been seeing.

At this stage, the meditator is still dependent on the physical disk, but the internal image begins to strengthen. The sign may become more pronounced when the eyes are closed, and eventually it may appear even with the eyes open, overlaying the external disk.

This is a key shift. The practice is now becoming more mental than physical.

5. The Counterpart Sign (Paṭibhāga-nimitta)

With continued practice, the learning sign gives way to the paṭibhāga-nimitta, the counterpart sign. The Visuddhimagga uses striking comparisons to convey how much more purified this sign is than the learning sign, comparing it to such things as a polished mirror emerging from its case or the moon appearing from behind a cloud.

Importantly, the text says that the counterpart sign itself has neither colour nor shape. It should therefore not be understood simply as a brighter, clearer, or more perfect mental copy of the physical disk. Rather, it is described as a mode of appearance born of perception in a mind that has become concentrated.

This is the stage where the physical disk becomes unnecessary. The meditator can now withdraw from the external object and remain with the mental sign alone.

6. Establishing Samādhi on the Nimitta

Once the counterpart sign arises, the meditator continues to develop and carefully maintain it as the basis for deepening samādhi. At this stage, the five hindrances are suppressed and the mind is established in access concentration. The counterpart sign becomes the object around which attention is increasingly gathered and stabilised.

The Visuddhimagga distinguishes between access concentration and absorption concentration. In access concentration, the jhāna factors are present but not yet sufficiently strong and stable. As they strengthen, the mind can enter absorption, where these factors become firmly established and the concentration becomes much more stable.

This is why the nimitta matters. It is not an entertaining visual effect. It is the stabilised handle that allows the mind to enter deep unification.

7. Moving Beyond the Kasiṇa

The withdrawal of the kasiṇa belongs to a further stage of practice rather than to the ordinary development of the learning sign and counterpart sign. After mastering the fourth jhāna based on an appropriate kasiṇa, the Visuddhimagga describes a progression into the immaterial attainments.

For the first of these, the practitioner ceases attending to the kasiṇa and instead attends to the space that had been occupied or bounded by it, regarding this as ‘space’ or ‘boundless space’. With continued development, this becomes the basis of the attainment known as the base of boundless space.

So this should not be understood simply as the kasiṇa becoming progressively more refined until only ‘emptiness’ remains. It is a transition from concentration based on the kasiṇa to a different and subtler meditation object: boundless space.

8. Is This Necessary for Iddhi?

The answer depends on which source and system of training we are discussing. The early discourses place extraordinary abilities within the broader development of the four bases of spiritual power and a highly concentrated, purified, malleable, and steady mind.

The Visuddhimagga presents a much more specialised procedure. Within its systematic training for supernormal powers, mastery of the kasiṇas is central. For a practitioner beginning this training, it describes mastery of the eight attainments in each of the eight kasiṇas, together with extensive training in controlling and directing the concentrated mind.

So within the Visuddhimagga’s particular system, kasiṇa practice is not simply one interchangeable method among several. It forms part of a highly demanding programme for developing the degree of samādhi and mental mastery required before the mind is deliberately directed towards extraordinary abilities.

Question 4

Having clarified the method for entering samādhi using a kasiṇa disk, let us now apply the same level of precision to the next stage: the deliberate development of iddhi powers.

In early texts and later manuals, samādhi is described in graduated stages, from the first jhāna through the fourth, each marked by increasing refinement and stillness. From the second jhāna onward, discursive thought (vitakka–vicāra) falls silent, and by the fourth jhāna, even pleasure and pain are abandoned for equanimity and purity of mindfulness.

Given this, at what point does the practitioner deliberately incline the mind toward iddhi powers?

Is the resolution made before entering jhāna, during absorption itself, or after emerging from it?

More precisely: if deep jhāna is characterised by the absence of ordinary intention and conceptual movement, how does one direct the mind toward a specific supernormal knowledge or ability? What sequence is described in the canonical texts and commentarial tradition for moving from mastery of samādhi to the deliberate cultivation of iddhi?

Answer

If we take the overall practice presented in the early suttas together with

the more detailed procedure described in the Visuddhimagga, the sequence becomes clearer. Iddhi is not simply exercised from within absorption itself. Jhāna develops the exceptionally stable and workable mind that is then deliberately directed towards a specific result.

The practitioner enters and abides in the fourth jhāna, emerges from it, and then directs the developed mind towards a specific result. This sequence matters.

During jhāna, especially from the second jhāna onward, discursive thought has ceased. The mind is unified, stable, and non-conceptual. It is not the phase in which new intentions are formed. It is the phase in which the

mind is purified and made malleable.

The deliberate inclination toward iddhi arises after emerging from ab-

sorption, while the mind remains exceptionally clear, steady, and responsive. The Functional Sequence

According to the suttas and clarified in greater detail in the Visuddhimagga, the progression is:

1. Ethical foundation and sense restraint.

2. Abandoning the hindrances.

3. Mastery of the four jhānas.

4. Entering a well-established jhāna, most often the fourth, and then emerging from it.

5. With the mind still highly concentrated, focusing clearly on the specific result the practitioner intends to develop.

6. Re-entering jhāna and emerging once again.

7. Making a deliberate resolution that the intended effect should occur.

If the ability has been successfully developed, the intended effect occurs. If it does not, the practitioner repeats the process.

In simple terms, the sequence described in the Visuddhimagga is remarkably straightforward:

Jhāna → emerge → focus on the intended result → re-enter jhāna → emerge → resolve “may it be so” → result

Why Not During Fourth Jhāna?

Introducing a task during the fourth jhāna would interrupt that unification. If one attempts to form a new conceptual intention while absorbed, one simply exits absorption. The procedure therefore does not describe iddhi as an act of spontaneous effort performed from within absorption. Jhāna establishes the unified mind; the focusing and resolution occur after emerging from it.

The Mastery Required for Iddhi

This sequence also helps clarify what mastery of jhāna means in this context.

Simply experiencing absorption is not enough. The practitioner must be able to enter and emerge from jhāna deliberately and repeatedly, while maintaining sufficient control to focus the mind between attainments and make the final resolution after emerging again. This degree of mastery provides the stable foundation required for the more specialised training described earlier.

What Remains Unexplained

What the Visuddhimagga does not explain is the underlying mechanism connecting that resolution to the extraordinary result. Is the highly developed mind itself somehow capable of producing the effect? Does the preceding training develop some additional capacity through which the intention operates? And if so, how does that capacity interact with the physical world? On these deeper questions, the procedure tells us what is said to happen, but not ultimately how it happens.

Modern science cannot presently fill this gap. The claims involved would require reliable observation, controlled testing, and reproducibility before their underlying mechanisms could be investigated with confidence. Science can examine meditation, attention, perception, and altered states of consciousness, but these findings do not establish how the extraordinary abilities described in these texts might operate.

This leaves us at a useful boundary. We can describe what the ear-

ly discourses claim and follow the considerably more detailed procedure preserved in the Visuddhimagga. We can even identify the point at which the texts say the extraordinary result occurs. What remains beyond our current knowledge is the mechanism connecting the trained mind, the resolution, and the claimed result. Beyond that point, we move from description into speculation.

Question 5

That was the perfect level of detail, which works for practice without drowning in terminology. We have spoken extensively about the development of spiritual powers, but we have not yet looked closely at what those powers actually are.

What kinds of spiritual powers are described in the early Pāli discourses? What does the Buddha say a highly developed practitioner may become capable of?

Answer

In the early discourses, the spiritual powers most clearly stated in connection with this level of development are the following:

Psychic Powers (Iddhi-vidhā)

The ability to project multiple forms, appear and disappear, pass through walls or mountains, dive into and out of the earth, walk on water, and travel through the air. These are given as classic examples of iddhi, and are repeatedly described as possible outcomes of highly developed samādhi.

The Divine Ear (Dibba-sota)

The ability to hear sounds beyond ordinary human range, including sounds near and far, and sometimes sounds described as human and non-human. This is not presented as imagination or symbolism, but as a direct knowledge that can arise through refined concentration.

Knowledge of the Minds of Others (Cetopariya-ñāṇa)

The ability to directly discern the mental state of another being, such as whether their mind is with or without greed, hatred, delusion, distraction, or concentration. In the suttas, this is described less as curiosity-driven ‘mind reading’ and more as insight into mental qualities.

Recollection of Past Lives (Pubbenivāsānussati-ñāṇa)

The ability to remember many previous existences, sometimes described in great detail, including circumstances of life, death, and rebirth. The Buddha presents this as knowledge that may arise when the mind becomes deeply unified and purified.

The Divine Eye (Dibba-cakkhu)

The ability to see beings passing away and being reborn in different destinations, and to understand how these rebirths correspond to their actions. This is closely connected with insight into kamma and the wider mechanics of saṃsāra.

Knowledge of the Minds of Others (Cetopariya-ñāṇa)

The direct knowledge that the deep defilements of the mind have been exhausted and that liberation has been realised. Although this is often listed alongside the other higher knowledges, it is fundamentally different. It is not

a ‘power’ in the sense of display. It is the final knowledge of awakening itself, and it is the only one the Buddha consistently presents as the true goal.

Question 6

I’d like to clarify something about the relationship between spiritual powers and the Four Bases of Spiritual Power. As background, consider this statement from Saṁyutta Nikāya 51.2, Apāruta Sutta (Missed Out), where the Buddha says:

‘Mendicants, whoever has missed out on the four bases of psychic power has missed out on the noble path to the complete ending of suffering. Whoever has undertaken the four bases of psychic power has undertaken the noble path to the complete ending of suffering.’

When I read this, I latch onto something that isn’t explicitly stated. I gloss over the fact that he is speaking about developing the four bases themselves, not the powers that may arise from them. Is that my misunderstanding? Or are the powers automatically implied whenever he speaks of the four bases of psychic power?

Answer

Your observation identifies an important distinction. The four bases of spiritual power (iddhipāda) and the extraordinary abilities called iddhi are closely related, but they are not the same thing.

The four iddhipāda are qualities to be developed: motivated interest, energy, collectedness of mind, and investigation. When the Buddha says that neglecting these four bases means neglecting the path leading to the ending of suffering, he is referring to these qualities and their role in spiritual development, not to the acquisition of supernatural abilities.

This also explains why iddhipāda can appear in teachings concerned with liberation while iddhi is elsewhere used for extraordinary powers. The same foundations that support the development of the mind towards liberation can, when developed and applied in particular ways, also provide the basis for the extraordinary abilities described in the texts. The bases and the powers are therefore connected, but they should not be confused with one another.

Author’s Note 30.2

At this point in the path, a question often arises that does not neatly fit into doctrine, technique, or even belief. It concerns the transformation itself.

If a person were to directly develop the kinds of capacities described

in the early texts, such as recalling many past lives in detail, seeing beings pass away and reappear according to their actions, hearing and knowing beyond ordinary sensory limits, or displaying abilities that defy everyday physical expectations, how deeply would that transform their way of being? Would such direct vision and power naturally erode prejudice, violence, fear, and unresolved conditioning? Or could these patterns still survive, even in the presence of abilities that most people can only imagine?

At the centre of this inquiry are a series of assumptions that often operate quietly in spiritual thinking:

- That extraordinary abilities imply ethical purity, including kindness and compassion.

- That ethical purity guarantees wisdom, and that wisdom can be reliably transmitted or taught.

- That wisdom is already enlightenment, or at least must lead directly to it, and that one who is enlightened will naturally become a teacher.

- And that enlightenment must reveal itself through extraordinary abilities, without which a person’s realisation cannot be fully trusted.

These assumptions often link together unnoticed, forming a closed loop that feels intuitive, socially reinforced, and compelling, yet is rarely examined with

care.

Across centuries of spiritual practice, these assumptions have unsettled

sincere seekers within Buddhism and beyond. It is also an area where considerable harm has occurred. Extraordinary abilities can attract devotion and followers through fascination and infatuation. At the same time, even genuine attainments can become entangled with ambition, conceit, attachment, and the misuse of influence.

The Buddha gave practical guidance that helps us examine this problem. Rather than relying on appearance, reputation, charisma, or claims of attainment, he directs attention towards careful observation and discernment. To understand this more clearly, it is helpful to look at one story and one discourse.

The Story

There is an incident recorded in the suttas involving King Pasenadi of Kosala. In a conversation near a park, a group of ascetics passed nearby and the king asked the Buddha whether they were among those who were fully awakened or on the path to awakening.

The Buddha replied that this was difficult for the king to know. Such things could not be reliably determined from appearance or a brief encounter. Instead, he pointed towards careful observation over time.

Virtue, he explained, is known through living together, and only over a long period, by someone who is attentive and discerning. Purity is known through dealings with another person. Endurance is known in adversity. Wisdom is known through conversation, again over time and with careful attention and discernment.

Only afterwards does the king reveal that the ascetics were actually his spies, returning after travelling through the country.

The important point for our present discussion lies in the Buddha’s response. A person’s spiritual development cannot be reliably inferred from appearance or a brief encounter. Character and wisdom become clearer through sustained observation over time.

Now, Let’s Look at Another Discourse in Summary.

This discourse explains the process of examining a teacher in greater detail. The Buddha invites careful scrutiny grounded in what can actually be observed, and he allows this examination to be applied even to himself.

The first area of examination concerns what can be seen and heard, particularly bodily conduct and speech. Are corrupt qualities apparent in the teacher’s behaviour? Are there mixed qualities present? Or does the person’s conduct appear consistently purified?

The inquiry then considers whether this purity has remained stable over a long period. Time matters because a short encounter reveals very little about the deeper patterns of another person’s conduct.

The disciple also considers what happens when the teacher becomes well known and gains fame or recognition. Increased status and influence create different conditions in which a person’s qualities can become apparent.

The examination then becomes more subtle. Good behaviour alone does not necessarily reveal what is happening within the mind. A teacher may appear restrained while still being strongly driven by desire. The practitioner therefore looks for signs that this restraint reflects something deeper: wheth-

er the teacher can encounter attractive and pleasurable experiences without being governed by greed. The question is no longer simply how the teacher behaves, but what qualities of mind appear to be driving that behaviour.

Observation of the teacher is still only part of the process. The disciple listens to the Dhamma, practises accordingly, penetrates its meaning, and gradually verifies the teaching through direct experience. Confidence becomes increasingly grounded in what has been observed, understood, practised, and known.

Faith, in this teaching, is therefore not unquestioning belief. It develops through examination, understanding, practice, and personal verification.

The Buddha goes further still, instructing that even he should be examined in this way. If such scrutiny is appropriate in relation to a Fully Awakened One, speculation about whether powers imply purity or wisdom becomes unnecessary. The standard is simpler and more demanding: do not assume. Observe. Examine. Test over time.

Returning to the Inquiry

At the risk of some repetition, it is worth naming these assumptions again. Do extraordinary abilities indicate ethical purity? Does ethical purity guarantee wisdom? Is wisdom itself already enlightenment? Do all enlightened beings naturally become teachers? And must enlightenment be confirmed through the presence of extraordinary abilities?

The Buddhist tradition does not support treating all of these qualities as though they necessarily arise together. The early texts distinguish between different kinds and degrees of spiritual development.

Extraordinary abilities do not by themselves establish ethical purity or liberation. Devadatta provides an important example within the Buddhist tradition. He is described as having developed significant meditative and extraordinary abilities, yet ambition, jealousy, and hostility later led him into severe misconduct. His story provides a clear warning that unusual abilities do not guarantee freedom from the defilements.

Ethical purity supports the arising of wisdom, but it does not guarantee it on its own. A life of restraint and kindness creates favourable conditions for clarity, yet wisdom still requires cultivation, investigation, and direct understanding.

Wisdom must be cultivated personally and cannot simply be passed from teacher to student as a possession. Teachers can point, explain, and guide, but insight itself must be realised directly. Wisdom also develops in

degrees. The path reaches its fulfilment when greed, hatred, and delusion have been uprooted and suffering has been brought to an end.

Teaching is another capacity that should not automatically be equated with awakening. An awakened person may possess great teaching ability, while another may live quietly without assuming a prominent teaching role. The ability to communicate an understanding and the realisation itself are related, but they are not identical.

Finally, enlightenment does not depend upon the manifestation of extraordinary abilities. The early texts distinguish psychic powers and other extraordinary knowledges from the liberating knowledge through which the taints are destroyed. Extraordinary capacities may arise in highly developed practitioners, but their presence alone does not establish liberation, nor does a lack of such abilities indicate that liberation has not occurred.

If the word ‘extraordinary’ is understood more modestly, profound spiritual development certainly brings qualities that can appear remarkable in ordinary life. Deep equanimity, composure, clarity, resilience, and freedom from habitual reactivity may themselves transform how a person encounters pain, difficulty, praise, blame, gain, and loss. These qualities, however, belong to a different discussion from the psychic abilities described earlier in this chapter.

Understood in this way, the path becomes both clearer and safer. Liberation is not validated by spectacle, authority, reputation, or unusual ability. The decisive question is whether greed, hatred, and delusion have actually been brought to an end.

When the question concerns one’s own practice, the issue becomes more immediate. If greed, hatred, and delusion have been uprooted, that freedom must ultimately be known directly. No display is required.

The Middle Ground

This clarification does not diminish the significance of profound experiences or the spiritual powers described in the texts. The early discourses present extraordinary capacities as genuine possibilities associated with a deeply developed and disciplined mind. Such attainments may strengthen confidence, reveal the transformative potential of practice, and in some circumstances be used skilfully for the benefit of others.

For this exploration, no final position is required in advance. What matters is openness without fantasy and scrutiny without cynicism. Rather than deciding too quickly what must be believed, dismissed, or explained

away, we can allow the questions to remain alive and see what they reveal over time.