The Quiet Mind

The Quiet Mind Plot Summary

Introduction

In the heart of Bangkok, a remarkable transformation was taking place. John Coleman, a young intelligence officer stationed in Thailand during the 1950s, found himself lying on a straw mat in a Buddhist temple, his limbs moving involuntarily in response to another's mental commands. This uncanny experience marked the beginning of an extraordinary journey that would take him from the corridors of espionage to the sacred spaces of Eastern spirituality. Coleman's quest for what he called "the quiet mind" spanned continents and decades, bringing him face to face with some of the 20th century's most influential spiritual teachers. While most Westerners were preoccupied with material pursuits, Coleman delved into ancient practices of meditation and contemplation, seeking answers to questions that transcended cultural boundaries. His journey offers profound insights into the nature of consciousness, the limitations of intellectual understanding, and the universal human search for inner peace amid the chaos of modern existence.

Chapter 1: Awakening in the East: First Encounters with Meditation

John Coleman's spiritual journey began almost accidentally, against the exotic backdrop of Thailand in the 1950s. As an intelligence officer for the U.S. Central Intelligence Agency, he lived a double life – outwardly an import-export businessman, inwardly engaged in counterespionage work. The constant tension and vigilance required by his profession had taken a toll, creating a yearning for something beyond the material world. His first meaningful encounter with Eastern spirituality occurred at a Bangkok temple where he participated in a psychical research group. There, he witnessed a young Thai boy who, under hypnosis, demonstrated remarkable extrasensory perception abilities. The boy, blindfolded with cotton pads and sealed with adhesive tape, could accurately reproduce words that others had written on a blackboard, even in languages foreign to him. For Coleman, raised in the analytical tradition of Western thinking, this demonstration was both baffling and intriguing. The experience sparked Coleman's curiosity about the untapped potential of the human mind. Soon after, while visiting a friend at another temple, Coleman himself became the subject of an unexpected demonstration. While in a hypnotic trance, his limbs began moving involuntarily in response to the mental suggestions of a naval officer who was meditating nearby. Coleman had no awareness of these movements until after he awakened, when his friends described what had happened. This incident profoundly challenged Coleman's understanding of reality. If the mind could exert such influence without words or physical contact, what other capabilities might it possess? The question led him to investigate the psychological practices of Buddhism and other Eastern traditions that had explored these dimensions of consciousness for centuries. During his assignments across Southeast Asia, Coleman observed something else that captivated him: the serene demeanor of many Buddhists he encountered. Despite living in conditions that Westerners would find stressful, these individuals displayed a patience and equanimity that seemed to arise from something deeper than mere cultural conditioning. There appeared to be practical techniques for achieving mental tranquility that Western psychology had yet to discover or acknowledge. As Coleman's professional life continued to expose him to high-pressure situations, his personal quest intensified. He began reading whatever he could find on Buddhist meditation, Eastern philosophy, and consciousness studies. What had begun as curiosity was evolving into a serious search for what he increasingly felt was missing in his Western upbringing – techniques for achieving a genuine quieting of the mind amidst life's inevitable conflicts and challenges.

Chapter 2: The Three Wise Men: Krishnamurti, Suzuki, and U Ba Khin

As Coleman's search deepened, three extraordinary teachers emerged as guiding lights on his path. Each represented a different approach to spiritual understanding, yet all pointed toward the same fundamental truth about the nature of mind and reality. The first of these teachers came into Coleman's life by chance. While waiting for a plane at Benares airport in India, Coleman noticed an elderly Indian gentleman in a white linen suit taking leave of his friends. Later, during a stopover at Lucknow, Coleman found himself sharing a table with this same man, who introduced himself simply as "Krishnamurti" and described himself as "a sort of philosopher." This understated introduction belied the fact that J. Krishnamurti was one of the most influential spiritual teachers of the 20th century, a man who had rejected the role of messiah prepared for him by the Theosophical Society to teach a path of truth without intermediaries. During their conversation, Krishnamurti articulated a perspective that would profoundly influence Coleman. "Truth can only be experienced directly at the moment it happens," he told Coleman. "Any thought or intellectual projection of the truth is a step away from the truth." This emphasis on direct experience rather than conceptual understanding resonated deeply with Coleman, who had grown weary of intellectual approaches that never quite reached the heart of the matter. The second wise man on Coleman's path was Dr. D.T. Suzuki, the renowned Japanese scholar who had introduced Zen Buddhism to the West. By the time Coleman met him in Japan, Suzuki was over ninety years old but possessed a boyish charm and extraordinarily sharp mind. Despite Suzuki's hearing difficulties, which required Coleman to shout his questions, their conversation proved illuminating. Suzuki explained the fundamental differences between Eastern and Western approaches to understanding. "In Zen," he said, "it is the living fact—not the abstract or intellectual truth but the lived truth—that counts." He illustrated this with a comparison between a Japanese poet who simply observed and became one with a flower, and Tennyson who plucked a flower to analyze it. This distinction helped Coleman understand why his intellectual investigations had yielded limited results. The third and perhaps most influential teacher was Sayagyi U Ba Khin, a Burmese government official who was also a master meditation teacher. U Ba Khin was extraordinary – a high-ranking civil servant who managed multiple government departments with remarkable efficiency while also running a meditation center. His secret was regular meditation practice throughout the day, which purged his mind of accumulated stress and toxins, allowing him to maintain extraordinary energy and clarity despite his advancing years. Under U Ba Khin's guidance at his International Meditation Centre in Rangoon, Coleman received precise, practical instruction in Vipassana meditation. U Ba Khin taught that concentration alone was insufficient; one needed to develop insight into the true nature of reality. This meant experiencing directly the three characteristics of existence that Buddha had identified: impermanence (anicca), suffering (dukkha), and the absence of a permanent self (anatta). These three teachers – Krishnamurti with his emphasis on direct perception beyond concept, Suzuki with his elucidation of Zen's living truth, and U Ba Khin with his practical method for experiencing reality directly – formed a triadic influence that would guide Coleman's continuing quest. Though their approaches differed, they all pointed to the same essential insight: that true understanding comes not through intellectual analysis but through direct experience of reality as it is.

Chapter 3: Tantric Mysteries and Forest Retreats

Coleman's spiritual explorations soon led him into some of the most exotic and enigmatic corners of Eastern religious practice. Determined to leave no stone unturned in his quest for understanding, he traveled to Nepal, the ancient birthplace of Gautama Buddha and a living museum of Tantric Buddhist practices. In Kathmandu, Coleman was immediately struck by the ubiquity of religious symbolism. "There were more temples than houses, more gods than citizens," he observed. The walls of temples and pagodas were decorated with intricate carvings depicting gods and human figures in various sexual positions – visual representations of Tantric religious philosophy. Far from being merely erotic art, these carvings symbolized the union of male and female principles that lies at the heart of Tantric teaching. To understand this mysterious tradition better, Coleman sought out a high Tibetan lama, an octogenarian scholar who spoke excellent English. The lama explained that Tantrism views sexual energy as the most potent physical incentive known to mankind and seeks to harness this energy for spiritual purposes. The moment of sexual union and orgasm, though brief, can raise participants to a transcendental state conducive to spiritual enlightenment. More profoundly, the symbolism of sexual union in Tantric teaching represents the union of opposing qualities within oneself – the recognition in males of typically female characteristics like tenderness, and in females of typically male characteristics like assertiveness. Coleman found these practices intellectually interesting but ultimately felt they represented a complicated detour from the simplicity he was seeking. "Peace should be a simple matter," he concluded. "If the Tantras found true enlightenment, surely they went about it in a very complicated way." Seeking a different approach, Coleman traveled to Thailand's deep south to visit the forest monastery of Buddhadasa Bhikkhu, Thailand's leading Buddhist monk and a renowned teacher of "pure Buddhism" – the original, unadulterated concepts of Buddhist thinking without later accretions and rituals. The monastery, called Suan Mok, was set in dense forest, offering an environment of natural beauty and solitude ideal for contemplation. Coleman was assigned a small cottage surrounded by forest. His only company was a family of monkeys in the trees above and the various forest creatures that occasionally passed by. The stark simplicity of life at Suan Mok – rising before dawn, eating simple vegetarian meals, spending hours in meditation or walking mindfully through the forest – provided a dramatic contrast to the elaborate rituals and symbolism of Tantric Buddhism. Buddhadasa's teaching resonated with Coleman's growing intuition that the path to enlightenment should be direct and uncomplicated. "We humans are like fish who do not see the water surrounding them," Buddhadasa told him. "We usually do not notice life going on around us because we have become so accustomed to it." His approach emphasized integrating meditative awareness with all daily activities – "eating, drinking, working, sleeping, walking through the forest, watching the monkeys, bathing, listening to the stream, watching the clouds drift across the sky." A fundamental tenet of Buddhadasa's teaching was his objection to dualistic thinking – the tendency to divide experience into good and bad, right and wrong. In the center of the temple grounds, monks had arranged black and white stones in a circular Yin-Yang symbol. When the circle is in motion, Buddhadasa explained, the black and white merge into gray, "freeing us from the preposterous blindness of duality which had held Western man in its grip since Plato." This month in the forest monastery proved pivotal in Coleman's journey. The simplicity of life, the direct communion with nature, and Buddhadasa's clear teaching helped him see that understanding "seeps through during the common activities of daily life" rather than through elaborate rituals or intellectual gymnastics. Coleman felt his pursuit of the quiet mind was now bringing definite results, preparing him for experiences yet to come.

Chapter 4: The Transcendental Experience in the Golden Pagoda

After years of searching and exploration, Coleman's spiritual journey reached its climax during a return visit to Burma and U Ba Khin's meditation center. Having studied theories, witnessed phenomena, and practiced various forms of meditation across multiple countries, Coleman arrived with a new attitude. He was determined to set aside all preconceptions and intellectual curiosity, to "throw out all my preconceived ideas on the course my search should take." The meditation center consisted of a small golden-spired pagoda with a central shrine room surrounded by eight smaller wedge-shaped rooms for students to practice meditation. Coleman was assigned one of these rooms and began the intensive practice under U Ba Khin's guidance. The first few days were difficult, as his mind was slow to free itself from the accumulated mental debris of months of active business and social life. Following U Ba Khin's instructions, Coleman began by developing deep concentration through focusing on his breath. Once his mind was sufficiently calm and focused, he was directed to turn his awareness to the cellular movements and impermanent nature of his body processes. Starting from the top of his head and working down to his toes, he applied intense concentration to each part of his body in turn. Gradually, Coleman became aware of tingling sensations throughout those parts of his body on which he focused his concentration. "When concentration was directed to my right hand, for instance, I experienced the wild dance of electrons producing a warm glow throughout the hand," he wrote. This effect was replicated on each part of his body, leading to a full awareness of the physical structure as impermanent and constantly changing. As his practice deepened, the heat in his body intensified to an almost unbearable degree. U Ba Khin explained this as the repayment of karmic debts from past misdeeds in a concentrated form. At this point, Coleman was instructed to take a vow to remain perfectly still for one-hour periods without the slightest movement. The pain became excruciating, and naturally, the desire to escape from the agony grew intense as well. Coleman realized that as long as his mind functioned in its usual egocentric fashion, seeking escape from pain, the suffering would continue. The very desire to be free from suffering was perpetuating it. This realization marked the turning point. "Suddenly, at a point of supreme frustration, my mind stopped functioning for it realized it could not bring about a cessation of dukkha," he recalled. "The desire to be free from suffering ceased as the realization occurred that it could not be sought after and brought about." In that moment, something extraordinary happened: "There was an indescribable calm. There was cool equanimity that seemed to fill and encompass entirety. There was everything and nothing, a peace which passes all understanding. The mind and body were transcended. The mind was quiet." This experience represented the culmination of Coleman's search, the achievement of the quiet mind he had sought for so long. He later described it as "the fulfillment and justification of all my hopes," an experience "rich beyond all my expectations." Though nearly impossible to convey in words, the impact was profound and lasting. Coleman had discovered what Buddha and countless practitioners through the centuries had taught – that the greatest peace comes not from changing external circumstances but from changing one's relationship to experience itself. Most significantly, Coleman realized that this state was not an end in itself but a beginning. The experience awakened in him a desire to share what he had learned with others, to help them discover the same peace that he had found. Before leaving the center, Coleman discussed with U Ba Khin the possibility of bringing meditation teaching to the West. U Ba Khin, restricted by Burma's political situation from traveling abroad himself, authorized Coleman to teach on his behalf. Coleman's transcendental experience in the golden pagoda had transformed him from seeker to teacher, completing one cycle of his spiritual journey and beginning another. What had started as a personal quest for relief from the stresses of espionage work had culminated in a profound realization that would eventually benefit countless others around the world.

Chapter 5: Becoming a Teacher and Spreading the Dhamma

Coleman's transition from seeker to teacher began with reluctance rather than enthusiasm. After his transformative experience at U Ba Khin's meditation center, he returned to England with his wife Eve and settled into a quiet life. His immediate priorities were caring for his family and securing employment, not teaching meditation. But circumstances had other plans. Meanwhile, political upheaval in Burma had forced a wealthy businessman named S.N. Goenka, who had also studied under U Ba Khin, to relocate to India. There, Goenka began teaching meditation courses that quickly grew in popularity. This coincided with the height of the hippy movement, and thousands of young Westerners traveling to India for spiritual enlightenment found their way to Goenka's courses. Inevitably, they began asking why they couldn't access this teaching in their home countries. Remembering Coleman, whom he had briefly met at U Ba Khin's center, Goenka directed many students to seek him out in England. "Suddenly, it seemed that the Coleman residence was being inundated with telegrams, telephone calls and letters demanding that I should begin to teach meditation courses," Coleman recalled. His suburban home was besieged by visitors, "many of them barefoot, dressed in white robes and adorned with flowers, colored beads and other ornaments." To restore peace to his neighborhood, Coleman reluctantly agreed to conduct a meditation course if the visitors would stop coming to his house. The students organized accommodation at a Presbyterian retreat in Yorkshire, and Coleman found himself traveling 250 miles north to fulfill his promise – just two days after his wife had given birth to their second son, who had arrived two months prematurely. Despite his anxiety about having forgotten the details of how to conduct a course, Coleman found that the teaching came naturally to him. "Day one seemed to go well. The second day was easier and the next better still," he wrote. At the end of the ten-day course, he had "forty happy hippies" eager to know when and where his next course would be held. This first course set off a momentum that proved impossible to contain. Invitations poured in from across Europe – France, Switzerland, Holland, Belgium, Germany, Denmark, Sweden, Italy, and Austria. Soon, Coleman was teaching courses in the United States, Canada, South America, Japan, New Zealand, Australia, Singapore, Thailand, India, and Israel. His waiting list grew longer as word spread about the effectiveness of the technique. Coleman's teaching followed U Ba Khin's approach, emphasizing three elements: sīla (morality), samādhi (concentration), and paññā (wisdom). Students were taught to focus their attention on their breath until achieving deep concentration, then to observe bodily sensations with detached awareness, understanding their impermanent nature. This direct experience of impermanence (anicca) led to insight into the three characteristics of existence: impermanence, suffering, and the absence of a permanent self. Coleman's approach to organizing courses was deliberately simple and unbureaucratic. Rather than creating a formal organization, each course existed as a self-sufficient entity, with costs shared by attending students. "What this approach lacked in efficiency it made up for in reduced bureaucracy," he noted, aligning with the Buddhist tradition of giving teachings freely to those who ask. As the years passed, Coleman found himself unexpectedly fulfilling U Ba Khin's vision of spreading meditation teaching in the West. The technique that had originally provided him personal relief from the stresses of espionage work was now helping thousands of others find their own path to inner peace. Coleman observed with satisfaction that his students came from all walks of life – not just hippies and spiritual seekers, but also professionals, academics, and ordinary people struggling with the stresses of modern life. Eventually, the pace of teaching had to slow. "With advancing years such a hectic schedule could not go on indefinitely," Coleman acknowledged. He reduced his teaching commitments to a few courses per year in Europe and Thailand, while watching with satisfaction as other teachers, including Goenka, established meditation centers around the world. The seed planted by U Ba Khin had grown into a global movement, with Coleman playing a significant role in its early spread to Western countries.

Chapter 6: Reflections on Buddhism's Expanding Influence in the West

By the late 20th century, the landscape of spiritual practice in the West had transformed dramatically from the days when Coleman first began his quest. What was once considered exotic and foreign had become increasingly mainstream, with meditation centers, Buddhist temples, and yoga studios appearing in cities across Europe and North America. This development aligned perfectly with an ancient Buddhist prediction. According to Burmese tradition, the teachings of Gotama Buddha would last 5,000 years, with the first 2,500 years ending in 1956. These first 2,500 years had unfolded in five distinct 500-year periods, moving from an emphasis on meditation practice, to devotional activities, to moral precepts, to intellectual study, and finally to generosity. The second half of the 5,000-year cycle was predicted to follow the same pattern in reverse, beginning with a return to meditation practice – exactly what Coleman had witnessed and participated in spreading. When Coleman first arrived in Thailand in 1954, meditation was virtually nonexistent in practice, despite being fundamental to Buddhist teachings. "I approached numerous monks at various temples. No one was teaching meditation," he recalled. "I made enquiries at the larger universities, including the Buddhist University, to no avail." This void made his eventual discovery of teachers like U Ba Khin all the more significant. By the time of writing his reflections, the situation had changed dramatically. "Today, practically every temple in Burma and other Buddhist countries provides meditation courses and many new temples have been established exclusively for the purpose," Coleman observed. "Every university, college and secondary school has a meditation group or society. Meditation is even taught in kindergartens." The Western world experienced a similar transformation. What began with the countercultural interest in Eastern spirituality during the 1960s and 1970s evolved into something more substantial and lasting. Scientific research into meditation's effects on the brain and body began to provide empirical support for what practitioners had known experientially for centuries. Major universities established research programs studying mindfulness and meditation, while hospitals and healthcare systems incorporated these practices into treatment protocols. Coleman noted with satisfaction the establishment of permanent meditation centers in many countries. U Ba Khin's closest disciples, Sayama and U Chit Tin, received permission to leave Burma in 1978 and established centers teaching in his tradition. Goenka's organization alone grew to include more than seventy centers worldwide. The forced exile of Tibetan lamas following the Chinese occupation of Tibet led to the establishment of Tibetan Buddhist centers globally, including those of the Dalai Lama. In England, Thai forest monks established monasteries that trained Western monks and offered meditation instruction to lay people. This proliferation of teaching reflected U Ba Khin's vision, expressed shortly before his death: "The time clock of Vipassanā has now struck—that is, for the revival of the Buddha-Dhamma, Vipassanā in practice." The prediction was proving true, with millions of people worldwide engaging with these practices regardless of their religious background. Coleman reflected that the value of meditation transcended cultural and religious boundaries. The techniques provided practical tools for dealing with the accelerating pace and increasing stress of modern life. While traditional religious involvement declined in many Western countries, interest in meditation and mindfulness practices grew, suggesting they met a genuine need not addressed by conventional religion or secular psychology. As he limited his own teaching to a few courses per year, Coleman could look back with satisfaction on the role he had played in this global transformation. What began as his personal quest for peace amid the stresses of espionage work had contributed to a movement that was helping countless others find their own quiet minds in an increasingly chaotic world.

Summary

The essence of John Coleman's extraordinary journey lies in his discovery that peace is not something to be pursued through external means but realized through direct experience of reality as it is. Through encounters with remarkable teachers like Krishnamurti, Suzuki, and U Ba Khin, Coleman learned that the quiet mind emerges not from accumulating knowledge or engaging in elaborate rituals, but from the simple yet profound practice of present-moment awareness. His experience demonstrates that the most valuable insights often come when we stop searching and allow understanding to arise naturally. Coleman's story offers timeless lessons for anyone feeling overwhelmed by the pace and complexity of modern life. First, that our most persistent conflicts and suffering stem from resistance to what is, particularly our desire to escape pain and cling to pleasure. Second, that genuine peace comes not from changing our circumstances but from changing our relationship to experience itself through mindful awareness. The expansion of meditation practices worldwide since Coleman's initial quest suggests these insights respond to a universal human need that transcends cultural and religious boundaries – the need to find stillness within ourselves amid the inevitable turbulence of life.

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John E. Coleman

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