Discerning non-self nature

Here I am going to teach you the main meditation I used to liberate myself. This technique is borrowed from Anattalakkhana Sutta in Tipitaka. It is the path I personally walked, the direct insight I lived through, and the gateway that opened my heart to the stream of true freedom. It is known as Pañcakkhandha Anattā Meditation, or more simply, Anattānupassanā—the contemplation of non-self through the five clinging aggregates.

This is the precise discernment of the truth that what we cling to as “I,” “me,” or “mine” is in fact not our self. The body that ages, the sensations that shift, the perceptions that label, the thoughts that narrate, and even the very consciousness that knows—all these are not the self. They arise and pass due to causes and conditions. They are mechanisms, not identities.

There are two main insights—two doors—that reveal the nature of Anattā:

1. Lack of Control – If something were truly “me,” “mine,” or “myself,” I should be able to command it: “Be this way; do not be that way.” But these phenomena do not obey. They change on their own, without our consent. What is not under our control cannot rightly be called self.

2. Not Created by Me or Anyone Else – The phenomena we call “me” were not authored by us. No one constructed them from pure will. They are the result of causes and conditions—karma, heredity, sense contact, and mental formations. They are mechanisms born from the chain of dependent origination.

These two insights are the foundation of Anattānupassanā. Once understood, they can be applied in two distinct ways of meditation:

· By observing whatever naturally arises in present awareness.

· Or by focusing on a chosen anchor, such as the breath, and using it to explore the nature of experience.

Let us now walk through Anattānupassanā by experiences, step by step.

Insight Through Natural Arisings

Contemplating Non-Self Through Present-Moment Experience

1. Posture and Preparation

Find a quiet space and sit with dignity. Straighten your spine and neck. Whether on a chair or the floor, do not lean against anything. At first, this may feel uncomfortable, but do not let discomfort discourage you. As your clarity deepens, the body’s tension will dissolve, and the posture will feel light and natural. The straight spine is essential—it serves as the bridge between the earth and the sky, stabilising body and mind for deep contemplation.

2. Contemplating the Body

Now, bring your attention to your body parts one by one. Start with the face. Then move to the head, neck, shoulders, chest, back, arms, pelvis, legs—cover every region, gently but mindfully.

With each part, reflect deeply:

· “I cannot control this to be exactly as I want it. Therefore, it cannot be I, mine, or myself.”

· “This was not created by me, nor by someone else. It is a mechanism formed through causes and effects—genetics, karma, food, elements.”

Let your wisdom absorb these truths, and when it agrees, gently whisper in your mind:

“This is also not me.”

This short phrase will have power, for it carries the essence of insight. Then move on to the next part. At times you may feel it's enough to simply acknowledge “This is not me,” but other times the attachment resurfaces. When that happens, return to the two characteristics again and again.

Once the whole body has been examined in this way, your mind will feel released from the physical form. There will be a lightness, a sense that the body is no longer something you own or inhabit.

3. Contemplating Sensations

Next, turn your awareness toward sensations—pleasant, unpleasant, or neutral. Stay present, and notice whatever feeling arises. Perhaps an unpleasant sound creates discomfort. Use it as your object.

Now reflect:

· “I cannot control this sensation to arise or cease. It is not mine.”

· “This sensation is just a neurological response, caused by contact between the sense base and an object. It is a mechanism, not a self.”

Continue with various sensations. Sometimes it is enough to simply acknowledge:

“This is also not me.”

As your discernment deepens, you will feel as if your mind has temporarily relinquished sensations. They will be experienced, but without ownership. Like passing clouds, they no longer stick.

4. Contemplating Perceptions

Now direct your attention to perceptions—the labelling function of the mind. For example, you hear a bird and instantly the mind says “bird.” That labelling is a perception.

Contemplate:

· “This perception arises not by my will, but from conditioned memory.”

· “It is an automatic process of the brain—a naming habit created from past experiences.”

When clearly seen, perception loses its weight. The mind stops believing it is a knowing self, and instead sees perception as a conditioned function. Then, your mind will begin to abandon perceptions.

5. Contemplating Thoughts

Now observe your thoughts. They may be subtle or bold. Perhaps your mind spontaneously reflects, “This is also not me.” Even this insight is a thought.

Contemplate:

· “This preparation is also a mental formation—not under my control.”

· “It arises from karmic residues, past teachings, and accumulated memories.”

This stage is more subtle. Now you are discerning that even the one who meditates is not a self. The very thought of “I am meditating” is an illusion.

This insight shakes the core. It humbles the mind. Slowly, the thinker vanishes, and the thoughts are abandoned.

6. Contemplating Consciousness

Now come to consciousness—the most refined aggregate. Become aware of awareness itself. For example, hear a sound. Before any thought, there is a raw knowing of the sound. That is consciousness.

Contemplate:

· “This knowing is not under my control. I cannot filter or stop experiences from arising.”

· “Just as a microphone picks up sound, so too the ear receives and the mind cognises. It is a mechanism—not a self.”

Discern several such moments of consciousness, ex: sounds, smells, tangibles, moods etc. With continued observation, even consciousness begins to fade as a solid experience. The mind drops the illusion of “I am aware.”

7. Abiding in Emptiness and Beyond

As you abandon these aggregates one by one, a profound emptiness will begin to arise. Sit in it. Be with it. Balance it. At times, it may feel delicate and easily disturbed. If so, return to discernment. Revisit the five aggregates. Contemplate: “This is also not me.”

Eventually, you will feel deeper layers of emptiness arising—silent, peaceful, vast. But even here, the echo of self may linger. So now, even this emptiness must be examined.

“I cannot control this emptiness to remain for one hour or two. It is also not me.”

Discern each wave of emptiness in this way. As each is seen for what it is, they too dissolve.

Finally, something extraordinary occurs. There comes a state where even the sense of “this is me” or “this is emptiness” is gone. Duality fades. Perception stills. Sensation ceases. Thought no longer stirs. The self-concept vanishes like mist under sunlight.

This is the first true experience of Nibbāna. The stream-entry moment. The gates of Dhamma open. The mirage of self dissolves, and the heart touches what is beyond the world. It is not a trance, nor a blissful state. It is the end of fabrications, the stilling of all preparations.

This is the beginning of true freedom.

Insight Through a Chosen Anchor

Contemplating Non-Self Through the Breath

While the ever-changing field of natural experiences can serve as fertile ground for the insight into non-self, many seekers benefit from a more stable and continuous object—a single anchor to return to again and again. Among all anchors, the breath is both profound and accessible. It is simple, rhythmic, and always present. Yet it too is not the self. It is a silent teacher, pointing us back to the truth of Anattā with every inhalation and exhalation.

Let us now walk this inner journey—step by step—using the breath as our mirror.

1. Grounding the Body with Dignity

Begin by taking your seat with reverence. Whether on a cushion, mat, or chair, sit with your spine and neck upright and aligned, like a tower reaching towards the sky. Do not lean against anything. Support yourself fully with your own posture. In the beginning, you may feel discomfort—stiffness in the back, tension in the neck. But do not be discouraged. As the light of clarity begins to shine through the mind, the body will find stillness in stillness. What first feels rigid will begin to feel effortless.

2. Anchoring Awareness to the Breath

Now gently rest your attention on the natural breath—specifically, the tangible sensation of air moving in and out of the nose. Do not try to control the breath. Simply observe it. Feel the subtle brushing of air within the nostrils. This is your chosen anchor.

You are not meditating on the idea of the breath, but the direct experience of it. Noticing how it enters, how it leaves, and how each moment is new—never the same breath twice.

3. Discerning the Breath as Not-Self

Now bring the two characteristics of non-self into contemplation.

As you observe the breath in, reflect:

· “This breath is not created by me. Nor is it created by someone else. It is just a mechanism, arising due to causes and conditions—past karma, the biological structure formed by the parent’s zygote, food, temperature, and the body’s automatic functioning.”

· “I cannot wish this breath to be longer or shorter, deeper or shallower. It moves on its own. Therefore, it is not under my control.”

Let your wisdom agree: “If this is not under my control and not created by me, it cannot be ‘I,’ ‘mine,’ or ‘myself.’” Let this realisation land, not just intellectually but deeply in your being.

Then, as the breath out naturally follows, shift your attention to it, and simply whisper in the heart:

“This is also not me.”

At times, this short phrase will be enough to release attachment. The mind loosens its grip. But at other times, you may feel it is not sufficient. Then return again to the two insights. Reflect clearly and patiently.

With time, the breath becomes hollow of identity. You will begin to feel that your mind no longer holds the breath as “my breath.” The sense of ownership dissolves. The breath continues, but the burden of “self” in it has vanished.

4. Contemplating Sensations Through the Breath

Now refine your attention further. Begin to notice the sensations that arise through the breath—the tickle in the nose, the coolness of air entering, or the warmth of air leaving.

As you notice a sensation—perhaps a pleasant feeling as the breath moves out—contemplate:

· “I cannot control this sensation to arise or not arise. It is not mine.”

· “It is just a response of the nervous system, the brain interpreting contact between air and inner tissue. It is a mechanism—not a self.”

Observe several sensations. At times, just saying “This is also not me” will suffice. At other times, you will need to reflect deeply. Continue this process, again and again, until the weight of sensation drops away. It will feel as though your mind no longer sticks to the pleasant or unpleasant. There is only observation, free of grasping.

5. Contemplating Perceptions Related to the Breath

Now begin to observe the perceptions that form around the breath.

Perhaps you hear the mind say, “I am breathing,” or you label it “in-breath,” “out-breath.” Contemplate:

· “This labelling is also not mine. It is a learned habit, a mental reflex created from past data fed into the brain.”

· “Even the word ‘breath’ is just a conditioned memory—it is not something I created or control.”

Slowly, your mind will come to see perception itself as non-self. The labels will begin to lose their grip. The experience of the breath becomes silent and direct, unfiltered by concepts.

6. Contemplating Thoughts During Breath Awareness

Next, notice the subtle thoughts that arise during this meditation.

Sometimes your mind may automatically reflect, “This breath is also not me.” That is a thought. That is a preparation. Contemplate:

· “Even this insight is not mine. It arises due to previous karma, training, meditation, and the conditions I have set.”

· “It is a process—not a person.”

This stage is subtle and profound. You begin to discern that even the meditator, the one who contemplates, is just a thought—a mental formation. Let this insight deepen. Let the meditator disappear.

7. Contemplating Consciousness of the Breath

Now turn your gaze towards consciousness—the bare knowing of the breath.

Catch one moment of awareness, for instance, the knowing of an in-breath. Then reflect:

· “This awareness is not mine. I did not summon it. I cannot stop or control it.”

· “Just as a microphone registers sound when air moves past it, the nose and nervous system generate consciousness when breath is present. It is mechanical. It is not a self.”

Discern several such moments. Gradually, you will feel even the awareness of the breath dissolve into impersonality. The consciousness remains, but the identity behind it fades.

8. Abiding in Emptiness Born from Insight

As body, sensation, perception, thought, and consciousness are seen clearly as non-self, you will begin to feel a profound emptiness. Stay there. Dwell in it. Gently balance your awareness.

If the emptiness feels unstable or fragile, return to discernment. Reflect once again:

“This breath is also not me.”

Let the insight support the silence. Again, emptiness will return.

9. Final Discernment: Even Emptiness is Not Self

Eventually, even in the midst of this peace, a subtle echo of self may remain—a trace of the “I” that lingers in the background.

Contemplate:

· “This emptiness too is not mine. I cannot make it stay for an hour or two. It arises from causes and conditions—discernment, posture, stillness. It too is not a self.”

Then deeper layers of emptiness may arise—more silent, more spacious than the ones before. Contemplate each:

“This too is not me.”

Continue until even the sense of “I am in emptiness” fades.

10. Coming Home: The Fading of Duality

At last, there will come a moment where no perception arises as ‘this is me,’ nor even ‘this is emptiness.’ Duality disappears. The subject-object divide collapses. There is only stillness. Only suchness.

This is the stilling of preparations, the fading of fabrications. The place where perceptions and feelings cease. You have tasted the first experience of Nibbāna—the gateway to the deathless. This is stream-entry, the beginning of true freedom.

You have come home.

Contemplating Non-Self Through Walking Meditation

While sitting meditation offers a still and silent gateway into the nature of non-self, walking meditation brings the Dhamma into motion. It allows us to explore the truth of Anattā in the very rhythm of life itself. With each step, we learn to walk not as a “self” moving through space, but as a stream of conditioned phenomena unfolding through cause and effect. The pathway becomes the Dhamma. The feet become the mirror. The Earth becomes the teaching. This is walking not towards a destination, but walking home into stillness.

Let us now enter the path of walking Anattānupassanā—the contemplation of non-self through the tangible reality of each step.

1. Preparing the Sacred Path

Find a quiet, straight path—about 30 feet in length is ideal. It may be a tiled corridor, a sandy garden path, or a wooden floor. This space becomes your temple. Begin walking slowly, mindfully, and without distraction. When you reach the end of the path, turn around with complete awareness, and walk back slowly. Repeat this gentle rhythm again and again. You are not trying to get somewhere. You are learning to be fully present with every step.

2. Anchoring Attention to the Tangible Contact of the Feet

As you walk, bring your attention to the tangible feeling of the feet. Notice the contact between the sole of your foot and the surface beneath it. Whether it's the softness of soil, the coolness of tile, or the texture of wood—feel it as directly as possible.

Recognise: when foot and floor meet, consciousness arises. This is your anchor. Not the thought of walking. Not the idea of meditation. But the direct contact, the living sensation.

3. Discerning Non-Self Through the Foot’s Tangibility

Now, while experiencing this contact, contemplate:

· “This tangible feeling is not created by me, nor by someone else. It is a product of past karma, the body shaped by the parental zygote, nourished by food and elements. It arises because of contact between foot and floor. It is just a mechanism, not a self.”

· “I cannot control this sensation. I cannot demand that it feel exactly how I wish. Therefore, it is not under my control. And what is not under my control cannot be I, mine, or myself.”

Let your wisdom agree. Let this contemplation settle in your heart. Gently affirm:

“This too is not me.”

Then shift your attention to the next foot, repeating the same contemplation. Let each step become a teaching. Let each step become a letting go.

4. Relinquishing Identification Through Repetition

With every footstep, let go. Observe, discern, and relinquish. At times, simply saying “This is also not me” will be enough to release the mental ownership. At other times, attachment will return, and you may feel the need to re-establish the insight using the two characteristics of non-self.

As these insights deepen, your mind will slowly stop identifying the legs, the body, or the movement as “mine.” You are no longer walking as a person, but as a process. A beautifully unfolding process of causes and effects.

5. Contemplating Sensations While Walking

Now begin to observe the sensations that arise through the contact of the foot. Sometimes a pleasant sensation arises with one step—a gentle softness, a sense of calm. At other times, an unpleasant sensation may appear—a sharpness, an ache.

Contemplate each sensation:

· “This is not under my control.”

· “It is just a result of nerves, skin contact, temperature, and the brain interpreting signals. It is a mechanism, not a self.”

Repeat this observation with each step. Sometimes the phrase “This is also not me” will suffice. Other times, return to full contemplation. Gradually, the weight of sensation lifts. The mind lets go. The sensations continue, but the ownership fades.

6. Contemplating Perceptions While Walking

Next, notice the perceptions that arise during your walk. Perhaps the mind labels: “This is a wooden floor,” “This is my left foot,” or “The ground is hard.” These are not random—they are the product of past conditioning and stored data.

Reflect:

· “This naming is not a self. It is the mind recognising familiar patterns, based on past input. It happens on its own.”

The words “foot,” “floor,” “walking,” “me”—they are merely labels, not truths. They were fed to the brain like commands to a computer. Perception, too, is not the self.

As this truth becomes clear, perception is abandoned. The mind walks in pure awareness, not filtered by language.

7. Contemplating Thoughts During Walking

Now, turn your gaze inward to notice the thoughts that quietly arise as you walk.

Perhaps your mind reflects, “This is also not me,” with each step. That very reflection, that insight, is itself a thought.

Contemplate:

· “This thought is not mine. It is the result of prior karma, meditation training, and mental impressions. It is not under my control.”

You will now reach a subtle turning point: the meditator—the one doing the contemplating—is also seen as just another thought. This is profound. The imagined “I” who walks and meditates dissolves.

Let the thoughts fall away. Let the thinker fade.

8. Contemplating Consciousness in Walking

Now turn your attention to consciousness itself—the raw awareness of the foot's contact.

Catch a moment of consciousness—perhaps the knowing of the left foot’s pressure. Contemplate:

· “This consciousness is not me. It arises when foot and floor meet, like sound arises in a working microphone. It is conditioned. It is not a self.”

Do the same with the right foot. Reflect on multiple moments of awareness in this way. Slowly, consciousness becomes transparent. The identity behind awareness dissolves.

Your mind will now begin to abandon consciousness. What remains is not dullness—but silence. The silence of insight.

9. Abiding in Emptiness While Walking

As the aggregates fall away—body, sensation, perception, thought, and consciousness—you will begin to feel a deep emptiness blooming in the midst of motion.

You are walking, but there is no walker. There are steps, but no one taking them. Stay present in this emptiness. Let it balance and stabilise.

If the emptiness is disturbed, return to discernment. Use the phrase:

“This, too, is not me.”

And the emptiness will return.

10. When Walking Naturally Stops

Eventually, a natural shift occurs. Your legs may feel too light, or too hollow, to continue walking. Your body may stop on its own. You may feel drawn to close your eyes and stand still.

Do not resist. Simply stand in stillness. Let the emptiness now deepen without motion. Let it be felt not just in the feet, but throughout your entire being.

11. Final Discernment: Letting Go of the Last Echo of Self

Even in this standing silence, a faint echo of self may remain. A quiet voice saying, “I am experiencing emptiness.”

Now turn your insight towards it:

· “This emptiness is also not me.”

· “I cannot control this to last for one hour or two. It is just another conditioned effect—born from meditation, from letting go, from prior causes.”

Even this peace is seen as non-self.

12. Returning Home Beyond Emptiness

Then, more refined states of emptiness may arise—vast, clear, unfathomably still. Each one more silent than the last. Discern each as:

“This too is not me.”

Finally, you reach a place where there is no more discernment. No more observing. No more perceiving.

There is no longer even the thought, “This is me,” or “This is emptiness.”

The duality dissolves. The fabrications cease. The heart settles into pure cessation. The flow of becoming halts.

This is Nibbāna. The first touch of enlightenment. The stream is entered.

You have walked, step by step, out of illusion and into truth.

You have come home.