Foundational Tools and Moment-to-Moment Awareness – From Corpse Meditation to Continuous Vipassana | Understanding Sexual Desire through Vipassana
My Foundational Practices: Samatha and Contemplation
I have shared ideas for general ways that I learned for coping with sexual desire, but here is what I have actually tried and learned from experience — from the beginning, when I had to fight with myself not to give in to desire every day or multiple times a day, to the point where I could refrain from sexual activity for 2–3 months straight.
I started by upholding the Five Precepts and practicing Samatha to build Samādhi — finding happiness from within through Jhāna and developing Sammā-Sati and Sammā-Samādhi, which would serve as the foundation to support Vipassanā. It also enlightened me to the fact that we can find happiness from within — that I don’t have to chase after women, money, or achievements, hoping they would bring me happiness. In fact, happiness is already within everyone’s mind; we just have to look inward to see it.
For Samatha and Vipassanā, my main kammaṭṭhāna is Ānāpānasati — using the breath to maintain mindfulness. The breath helps anchor the mind when sexual desire arises, whether it comes from memory or from seeing someone. It’s very normal: when the eye sees something or someone beautiful, the mind reacts — it starts thinking, drifting, and imagining. This process is uncontrollable and not-self. Our instinct naturally wants to keep looking at attractive people, but if we continue staring, the desire becomes stronger, and even the breath can no longer anchor the mind. So I shift my attention elsewhere and avoid looking, to prevent the desire from intensifying, while continuing to observe what happens within the mind. When the mind starts to drift or the desire grows stronger, taking a few deeper breaths helps me regain mindfulness.
In addition for Samatha, I also practiced meditation on impurity (asubha-kammaṭṭhāna) and contemplation of the 32 body parts (Dvattiṃsākāra) as my meditation objects. I trained my mind to become familiar with contemplating my own body, other people’s bodies, and women’s bodies as asubha (impure or like a corpse). Sometimes, I also used contemplation of the four elements as a meditation object — to see that there is no human, woman, or beauty as my mind assumes; all beings are simply a combination of the four elements forming the body and its various parts and organs. These three meditation methods — contemplation of impurity, the 32 body parts, and the four elements (Dhatu-manasikara) — can be used for both Samatha and Vipassanā.
I chose a person I found myself interested in and imagined their body as a corpse, asking myself: if this person had been dead for one day, two days, or three days, would I still like her? What about one week or two weeks after death? It is the same body I liked, but without life or breath — why don’t I feel attraction anymore? This is how meditation on impurity works. Sometimes, I also watched autopsy videos, especially of women’s bodies, so I could see and remember what it looks like beneath the skin, and I can recall these images when practicing asubha-kammaṭṭhāna.
Likewise, for the contemplation of the 32 body parts, I began by breaking down the body of the person I was interested in into 32 parts — all in my imagination, mentally. I started with the external parts that are immediately visible, such as hair, body hair, nails, teeth, and skin. I followed the Thai Forest monks’ method of considering and breaking down each part of the body, asking myself: where is the beauty?
For example, I might like a girl because of her blond hair, but what if her hair fell into my food while I was eating? Isn’t that disgusting? What about her nails, or if she were missing teeth when smiling? What if she were bald or had no eyebrows? And if the skin covering her body were gone, what would I see underneath — flesh, blood, pus, organs? There is nothing beautiful there, nothing that sexual desire would naturally crave if we can see the truth beneath the surface.
Even the most beautiful woman in the universe — would I still find her attractive if she were in an accident that burned her skin? Consider what is hidden under a beautiful body. Poop is disgusting, no matter where it comes from. Even the most beautiful woman excretes like everyone else, and everyone carries waste inside them; it is simply hidden beneath a thin layer of skin. Will the same person look attractive as they age, when their hair turns white and eventually falls out, their teeth decay or disappear, and their smooth skin becomes wrinkled?
The same applies to the contemplation of the four elements. Every element in the universe consists of the four elements, separated by space — including the human body. From the perspective of ultimate truth, there are no humans, animals, or things as we conventionally assume and name them. There are no men or women; there is only a combination of the four elements. Next, what we consider “beauty” or “sexiness” is entirely a human construct. Only humans think humans are beautiful. Would a dog find Miss Universe attractive? Probably not. A dog might find another female dog appealing, just as other animals respond to what is relevant to them.
From my understanding, Asubha Kammaṭṭhāna, contemplation of the 32 body parts, and contemplation of the four elements can be effective tools both for taming immediate sexual urges and for long-term practice. I have continually trained my mind with these practices to understand the true nature hidden beneath the beauty we see on the surface. As taught, these practices work better when the mind becomes more equanimous — less attached to the body. As I attained higher Jhāna, it became clearer to see the separation of mind and body after emerging from Jhāna.
The main reason I practiced these types of meditation intensively from the beginning was that my mind was not yet accustomed to Vipassana. After emerging from Jhāna, the mind tended to stay still, leaving nothing to observe for Vipassana. Therefore, many Thai Forest monks suggest meditations such as the contemplation of the 32 body parts to “wake the mind up” or teach it to start observing again after Jhāna, which brings the mind to deep stillness.
Because of ignorance (Avijjā), we tend to believe that the opposite gender is inherently attractive — that girls are attractive, that men like women, and women like men. For this reason, I found it necessary to practice these three meditations: contemplation of the 32 body parts, Asubha Kammaṭṭhāna, and contemplation of the four elements. These practices gradually teach the mind that there is no such thing as a “human body” in the absolute sense. What we call a body is actually an assembly of multiple parts; beneath the surface, it consists of organs, each organ made of cells and minerals, and each cell and mineral composed of the four elements.
I found that a fairly strong level of concentration (Samādhi) is required to keep the mind still when encountering sources of sexual desire — whether seeing girls in person, through social media, movies, or even in memories. When desire is very strong, I tend to forget all of the ultimate truths I have learned and find myself chasing those desires. These urges seem to be deeply rooted in our DNA, just as in other species in the world — where males chase females and vice versa.
These three kammatthana are effective for suppressing sexual desire, but when the desire is extremely strong, it will arise again. It is like removing a rock from the grass: the grass will eventually grow back. Similarly, when the power of Samadhi decreases, sexual desire can resurface. This is why another tool — Vipassana (Panna) — is necessary to observe desire as it arises. While Samatha practices like these three meditation methods are excellent for suppressing sexual desire, from my experience, they do not work every time.
Deepening the Practice: Vipassana in Daily Life
When it comes to Vipassana, there is really only one way to practice — to observe things with equanimity. Whenever sexual desire arises in my mind, whether triggered by what I see, hear, smell, or by memories, I also notice the body reacting to it — there are clear physical changes. In the beginning, I often wondered how Vipassanā could help simply by observing the mind. I didn’t notice much change or reduction in desire at first. But after observing and experiencing the arising and passing of sexual desire many times, I began to see the three characteristics of existence — impermanence, unsatisfactoriness, and non-self — within the desire itself.
From my own observation, I can see that sexual desire arises every time there is a cause that triggers it. I can see the chain of dependent origination spinning each time desire appears. There’s that pulling feeling — the wanting to draw what I like toward me. I can see the sense of “self” that wants to become someone — the player, the lover, the chaser, the dreamer. I notice my mind wanting to daydream, to imagine, to create another world where there is “me,” the self, and another person I have sexual desire for.
This cycle arises and passes countless times, almost continuously. When I go outside, the source of desire naturally comes from what I see — people I meet or interact with. When I’m home, away from others, or meditating, the source of desire comes from within — from memories of what I’ve seen today or in the past. These memories arise again and feed the mind, keeping it restlessly active.
After watching this process again and again, I started to feel convinced about the Buddha’s teaching on cause and effect. Sexual desire arises because we see, because we remember, and because craving and ignorance are still present. That’s why the mind keeps creating and sustaining it. The mind works non-stop, always searching for happiness and trying to push away suffering.
Sexual desire may seem like happiness at first, doesn’t it? But if we look closely, it’s also suffering. It’s suffering because we are still caught in craving — always wanting something to fulfill the mind. These desires are what drive much of our lives, making us act as servants to them. It’s similar to how dependent origination works when attraction arises toward something or someone.
I can see this Paticcasamuppāda process happening all day and night. Every time sexual desire arises, the whole chain begins, and it stops only when I notice the mind thinking again. That’s when the desire fades — either because the mind gets distracted by something else or because another stronger feeling replaces it. This shows the nature of impermanence (anicca) and suffering (dukkha).
It’s suffering because nothing lasts. Everything arises and passes away — life itself, thoughts, and desires. They rise and fall, and then new cycles begin again and again.
It’s also non-self (anattā), because these things happen on their own. I can’t control when sexual desire will arise or fade. This truth of non-self becomes clearer when I sit in meditation — even with a calm mind, desires still pop up out of nowhere, one after another, sometimes even in deep jhāna. Thoughts of sexual desire can arise and pass away continuously, second after second. Seeing this clearly shows me that sexual desire, like greed or anger, is also not-self — just another natural process arising and passing according to conditions.
For me, the important key point is to practice Vipassana 24/7. You can only not do it when you are sleeping—the dream will take over. Thai Forest monks said that when your defilements don’t stop when you stop practicing, they become stronger and harder to cope with once you start your meditation again.
As my practice deepened and my mindfulness became more continuous, I began to notice more subtle phenomena in my body and mind. At some point after I had attained the Knower in my practice, I noticed multiple vibration spots around my body, and everywhere I put my focus, mainly around the 7 main chakras. The most noticeable one is at the center of my chest, where the heart chakra is located. The vibration is observable 24/7, like how I can feel my heartbeat, but every time sexual desire arises, I can observe this vibration as part of Vipassana. It doesn’t only appear with sexual desire — it also vibrates when anger or greed arises. Whenever I see some attractive women or something sexual arises from my memories, the heart chakra vibrates harder. It isn’t hurting, but it isn’t an easy feeling either. It’s probably similar to the feeling people describe as “butterflies in the stomach,” but this is in my chest.
From my understanding, when I progressed to the point where I reached the stillness — no thought and feeling or very little thought and feeling — probably from deep Jhana, and also attained the Knower, I experienced the stillness in my mind. Thus, my body is like I already see how it looks when the mind is clear from thought and feeling, just like clear water where we can see the bottom of the river. Therefore, whenever thoughts, feelings, or sexual desire arise, they become foreign objects that I can easily notice when the stillness is disturbed, similar to when the river is disturbed and the water becomes muddy so we can’t see the bottom. Likewise, the heart chakra, in its normal state, may have little vibration intensity, but it intensifies when sexual desire arises. This has also become my staple observable point on my body, in addition to my mind. I wrote another article dedicated to the heart chakra, the Knower, and Vipassana — you can check it out if you’re interested.
← Previous: Part3: The Vipassana Lab | Next: Final Part: The Householder’s Path →