Vedanta and Buddhism: Dissolution and Revelation

Buddhism is a noble practice. My years of Vipassana taught me much—discipline, detachment, and the courage to sit quietly with the changing conditions of the mind. I do not regret that time. And yet, looking back from the perspective of Vedanta, I see that Buddhism brings one to the very threshold of realization but does not cross it. It takes everything away, and then leaves you with nothing to stand on. "All is impermanent. All is not mine. All is not the self," tells us the Buddha.

Buddhism: The Great Dissolution

Buddhism’s strength lies in its relentless dismantling:

• No permanent self in the aggregates.

• No enduring essence in body, mind, or phenomena.

• Everything is impermanent, conditioned, and ultimately unsatisfactory.

This clarity cuts through ego and loosens the grip of craving. It trains the mind to watch phenomena rise and pass away without clinging. But after all is stripped away, one is left with shunyata—emptiness. For some, this is liberating. For others, it is unsettling. If I am not the self, then what? Buddhism offers no place to stand, only the wisdom of groundlessness.

Vedanta: The Great Revelation

Vedanta, too, begins with dismantling. Through neti, neti (“not this, not this”), it removes layer after layer of mistaken identity. I am not the body. I am not the mind. I am not even the subtle sense of being a seeker. Everything that can be objectified is negated.

But Vedanta does not stop there. Once all else is taken away, it asks: What cannot be removed? What remains even when every object is negated? The answer is awareness itself—self-shining, ever-present, never absent. This awareness is not a void but the fullness of existence itself (sat), limitless (ananta), whole (purnam). Where Buddhism ends in emptiness, Vedanta reveals fullness.

The Difference in Voice

• Buddhism: “There is no ground. Rest in groundlessness.”

• Vedanta: “There is a ground, and it is you. You were never truly lost.”

Both paths strip away false supports. But Vedanta completes the journey: it negates the false and then affirms the true. Without this second step, negation alone can feel like nihilism. With it, the seeker finds not just absence but presence—an unshakable identity that was never wounded, never bound, never incomplete.

Why I Still Recommend Vipassana

Despite these differences, I still recommend Vipassana to seekers in the West. Why? Because it is widely accessible, rigorous, and transformative in ways many modern people urgently need. In a culture where minds are restless, fragmented, and often traumatized, Vipassana provides:

• A direct method to calm and observe the mind.

• A safe environment for suppressed material to surface.

• Discipline, patience, and the beginnings of detachment.

In traditional India, the role of preparing the seeker for Vedanta was filled by Yoga—not merely postures, but the integrated discipline of karma yoga, devotion, pranayama, meditation, and ethical life. These practices steadied and purified the mind, creating the qualifications (adhikaritva) needed for Self-inquiry. In the modern West, however, Yoga has often been reduced to exercise, while Vipassana has arrived largely intact as a serious discipline. For many seekers here, Vipassana now serves the very preparatory role Yoga once held in India. It doesn’t claim the final step, but it makes one ready to take it. For this reason, I see it not as a rival to Vedanta, but as an ally.

The Yoga Sutras of Patanjali describe Yoga as citta-vrtti-nirodhah—the stilling of the movements of the mind. This is the very condition required for Vedantic inquiry. Similarly, the Katha Upanishad (2.3.10–11) teaches that the Self is realized only by one whose mind is tranquil, controlled, and free from distraction. Shankaracharya, in his commentaries, repeatedly emphasizes that without such preparation, Vedanta is like sowing seed on barren ground.

Vipassana, though arising from a different tradition, cultivates precisely this inner steadiness and clarity. In this way, it indirectly fulfills the preparatory role envisioned by the Indian shastras for seekers of the Self.

My years in Buddhism brought me right up to the finish line. Vedanta carried me across. For this reason, I hold deep gratitude for both: Buddhism as the noble discipline that prepared the ground, and Vedanta as the final revelation of what I am. Dissolution and revelation—together they form the arc of the journey.