Our Mental Junk Food: The Five Hindrances

Monks, there are these five hindrances. Which five? Sensual desire as a hindrance, ill will as a hindrance, sloth & drowsiness as a hindrance, restlessness & anxiety as a hindrance, and uncertainty as a hindrance. These are the five hindrances.

—Buddha, Discourse on the Hindrances

In meditation, as we start to become aware of our mental activity, we very often find that the mind is feeding on junk food. We realize that we’ve been unconsciously encouraging harmful habits, trading in our long-term well-being for short-term spikes of satisfaction. The untrained mind tends to binge on whatever morsels will provide momentary gratification.

But that gratification, we know, wanes. The pleasing peaks give way to painful plummets. To live this way is to ride on a perpetual roller coaster, seeking out the pleasurable, resisting the displeasurable, ignoring the rest.

How can we change our mental diet? How can we nourish the mind so that we experience true contentment? How can we feed it well?

According to the Buddha, it starts with being able to recognize the junk food. Our task is to understand the unskillful states of mind that we perpetuate. Once we can see what we’re consuming, we can do something about it. Often, the simple act of clearly seeing our harmful habits is enough for us to abandon them.

The Buddha talked about five particular “foods” that our minds get hooked on consuming, preventing us from gaining deeper, more lasting satisfaction. These “five hindrances” obstruct our progress on the path of mental cultivation. They entrance the meditator. These hindrances are: sensual desire; ill will; drowsiness; restlessness; and doubt. 

In this article, we’ll be introducing each of the five hindrances; in the following article, we’ll explore ways of skillfully navigating them.

Sensual desire

Sensual desire refers to a grasping after pleasurable thoughts or feelings that are knocking at our “sense doors” (our eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind…Buddhism names six senses instead of five). We become intoxicated: we are convinced, even if to a subtle degree, that the pursuit and possession of a much-desired sensory experience will complete us in some way.

Sensory desire encompasses all lusts for pleasure—whether a sexual fantasy, a craving after delicious food or drink, a desire for greater bodily comfort, pleasurable music playing in one’s head, or even the simple comfort of letting the mind wander. There is a charge in the body and a distraction in the mind; the experience assures a loss of impartial contact with the moment.

From a Buddhist perspective, sensual desire is natural. It’s not a sin! It seems to be something we evolved in order help us survive—to seek warmth, to eat, to procreate, and so on. The meditator’s practice is not to repress desire. Rather, it’s to see and understand it. As we get familiar with our sensual desire, we can start to differentiate its short-term gratification from the deeper, long-term contentment that is available through mindfulness and meditative absorption.

Buddhist teacher Ajahn Brahmavamso Mahathera helpfully examines the etymology of the Pali term for sensual desire, kama chanda:

In the Pali term kama chanda, chanda is what you have to do if you cannot attend a meeting of the community of monks, and you want to give approval and agreement to what’s happening there, you give your chanda to go ahead in your absence. It’s agreement, approval, consent, and it’s much more subtle than mere desire. This means that you are buying into, giving in to this, you want it, you approve of it, and you allow it to happen...It’s as if you give your approval for the sensory world to be in your consciousness, in your mind, you accept it, approve of it, and you play with it, that’s all chanda. It’s letting it completely occupy the mind, and it’s much more subtle than just mere desire. The kama part of kama chanda, that’s all that is comprised in kamaloka, the world of the five senses…Kama chanda is acceptance, agreement, and consent for that world to occupy you. [i]

So, the realm of sensory desire needn’t be confined to overt fantasizing for sumptuous goodies. Rather, it can involve this shadowy “allowance” of the sensory world to take hold in seemingly benign ways, such as simply wanting to be in a more comfortable sitting position. Each time we feel uncomfortable, we tend to unconsciously reach for pacifiers, big and small.

The “problem” with this is in the underlying assumption that if we manipulate our reality just so, we will be fulfilled. This is the delusion that keeps us perpetually bound to the hamster wheel—running toward what pleases us and running away from what displeases us.

Now, this doesn’t mean we need to live a life of self-induced deprivation and discomfort; restraint is certainly important, but the Buddha rejected austere practices. We can take care of our material needs. But, at the same time, we can become familiar with how we allow those needs to become wants, and how those wants take over the mind.

Ill will

The hindrance of ill will (vyapada in Pali, also translated as “aversion”) represents an attachment to negative and perhaps aggressive or hostile thoughts and/or feelings. Amazingly, in the silence and inactivity of meditation, ill will can rouse the practitioner to states of blood-boiling rage, sometimes over the most innocuous things. 

While Thai teacher Ajahn Chah was teaching in London, he learned that his students were vexed by music playing outside the meditation hall. His response was: “You think that the sound is annoying you, but actually it’s you that’s annoying the sound! The sound is just what it is. It’s not there trying to upset you; it’s just doing what sound is supposed to do. If there is annoyance, it is only coming from you.” [ii]

Some of us employ negativity as our baseline mental state. Evolutionarily, it was beneficial to be able to see what was wrong or missing, to seek out threats to safety in our environment. Today, many of us move through our daily lives hyper-focused on where we or others fall short. American Buddhist teacher Gil Fronsdal adds:

Some people who practice mindfulness discover that ill will, resentment, anger, or aversion are pervasive states of mind; they can be their default response to events. When encountering new situations, they automatically assume something is wrong and look for what is undesirable or problematic. [iii]

In meditation, we might find ourselves recoiling from distracting sounds, body pains, irksome memories, thoughts about an upcoming meeting with someone we don’t like, and so on. There is an allure to such energy; it’s powerful and energizing. We become inflamed with anger, spite, criticalness, indignation, fury, loathing. If sensory desire is the anabolic glomming on to that which we crave, ill will is its catabolic counterpart, hinged on destroying that which is unwanted. 

But ultimately, we’re just sitting alone on a meditation cushion. These objects of aversion are likely not even in the room, and if they are (like the buzzing of the fly or the phone, or the aching of the knee or the shoulder), there’s no problem. The buzzing is just sound; the aching just sensation; the thoughts just thoughts. They all arise and depart. The hindrance of aversion, however, would have us believe that the problem is great, permanent, and must be quashed. 

Dullness & Drowsiness

The third hindrance—dullness and drowsiness (thiina and middha, also often translated as “sloth and torpor”)—is characterized by inertia. A benumbed body and a sluggish mind are stuck in a state of near-sleep. The meditator’s access to the clarity and aliveness of awareness is obstructed by a fog of lethargy.

The ideal state for meditation is to be both alert (active, Yang) and calm (passive, Yin); however, we often find ourselves on the excessive side of either of those qualities—either overly active (agitated, which we’ll cover next) or overly passive (lethargic). Dullness and drowsiness is a tricky mental state because we’re not necessarily aware that we’re drifting off. Theravada teacher Ajahn Amaro offers the following anecdote:

When I was a new novice in the monastery in Thailand I thought my meditation was much better in the morning. In the evening, I was always in a lot of pain and being eaten by the mosquitoes. It was very uncomfortable, and it felt like the sittings went on for hours. In the mornings, my meditation was so much better, and it went by in a flash. But another novice pointed out to me that I was fast asleep, with my head halfway down to the floor, semi-conscious. So this dullness can be deceptive; we can feel like we’re meditating really well, feeling so peaceful, but really be falling asleep. [iv]

As with all the hindrances, there is an allure at work in dullness and drowsiness, a siren song addling the mind. In this case, the allure is the promise of the sleep realm, of forgetting, of turning off. When we succumb to dullness and drowsiness on the meditation cushion, there is a great momentum in the direction of oblivion, a comforting submergence into the River Lethe, the Greeks’ mythical river of un-mindfulness.

Restlessness & Worry

If the previous hindrance represents a state of abundant Yin, the present one is a manifestation of excessive Yang. Restlessness and worry (uddhacca and kukkucca) refer to a mental condition that is overcome with agitation. The person might be overly concerned with future or past events. There is too much movement, which hinders one’s capacity to be settled and focused.

Ajahn Brahmavamso attributes the hindrance of restlessness and worry to a “fault-finding state of mind which cannot be satisfied with things as they are, and so has to move on to the promise of something better, forever just beyond.” [v] This is the “monkey-mind,” swinging from branch to branch, thought to thought, never satisfied with the present. Habitual mental activity can easily become addicting, an exciting distraction from the mundanity of life.

For me, this is the hindrance that gets the most play during meditation—this mode of strategizing, planning, worrying about what’s to come. When I was young, I learned to indulge in this habit, probably because I believed it would keep me safe. If I could only figure everything out, then nothing would sneak up on me! It’s been a gradual but rewarding process of learning to see this hindrance as junk food and to abstain from wolfing it down.

Doubt

The final hindrance is doubt (vicikiccha), which refers to habitual uncertainty that “causes a person to hesitate, vacillate, and not settle into meditation practice.” [vi] Doubt encompasses misgivings about one’s capacity for understanding and implementing meditation, or even about the usefulness of the teachings themselves. Doubt undermines one’s commitment to the path of awakening. I’ve heard it described as “the practice killer.” It’s like a mental thicket, keeping us stuck and unable to skillfully develop the mind.

Doubt represents a lack of trust in one’s innate knowing and/or the transmitted wisdom of the Buddha. In some ways, such dubiousness is justified—the meditator has entered an unknown land, after all. However, the tradition asks that you test out the “map” that has been passed down through the generations; you develop a trust in the process by applying the teachings, by taking one step at a time and verifying the teaching for yourself. With practice, you start to gain confidence and direction. Persistent doubt, however, paralyzes the process; it can serve as a significant roadblock.

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To summarize:

“Sensual desire” is too much pulling in of what we want. 

“Ill will” is the opposite gesture: an act of pushing away, rejecting, resisting. 

“Dullness and drowsiness” refers to the state of being too down—mental inertia, sluggishness, lethargy, lazily drifting from thought to thought.

“Restlessness and worry” refers to the state of being too up—there’s too much chaotic energy, and it tends to be driven by being overly excited about the past or the future…going over past events, worrying about what’s to come.

“Doubt,” or “uncertainty,” is a hesitancy around investing ourselves in meditation practice.

***

I invite you to spend a few minutes sitting there, and simply inquire inwardly. Notice the momentum of the mind: specifically, notice whether there’s too much pulling in or too much pushing away; too much downwardness or too much upwardness; or if there’s simply a resistance to training the mind.

What does it feel like when these hindrances are manifesting? How do they reveal themselves in your mind? How do they affect the speed and shape of your thoughts? Can you feel their repercussions in your body? Where do you feel them in the body, and what are their qualities—Do you feel tight and tense, lax and heavy, hot or cold?

If you’re not experiencing any of the hindrances currently, that’s great! Keep on practicing…they’ll come around before long!

In the next post, I’ll be exploring how we can skillfully navigate the hindrances—how we can stop bingeing on them, so that the mind can gain access to deeper levels of contentment.

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[i] Five Hindrances. In Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia.

[ii] Amaro, A. Finding the Missing Peace: A Primer of Buddhist Meditation. Hemel Hempstead, Hertfordshire, United Kingdom: Amaravati Buddhist Monastery; 2011: 117.

[iii] Fronsdal, G. Unhindered: A Mindful Path Through the Five Hindrances. Redwood City, CA: Tranquil Books; 2013: 41.

[iv] Amaro, 118.

[v] Five Hindrances, Wikipedia.

[vi] Fronsdal, 83.