That's a pretty fair (meaning good and balanced) characterization of the issues surrounding what many question about various descriptions and interpretations of jhana.
I used Leigh's descriptions of the jhana process (as it was then presented on the Internet) as a means of practice way back in 2001 when I was first beginning my effort to understand this process and what it entailed. Intuitively, his descriptions made the most sense to me of all the descriptions I was reading about at that time.
From the looks of this interview, it appears that Leigh has taken the opportunity to clarify this issue even further, and in general and overall, I would agree with the explanation he has provided as it is expressed in terms of the various influences surrounding jhana and its characterization.
I particularly agree with the following section from the interview:
Leigh Brasington wrote:So we have different schemes in the literature, and it depends to some extent on where someone is learning the jhanas, [from] whom they're learning them, and what literature is being used in that tradition. This material has been preserved for up to 2,500 years, with people making little tweaks along the way and not necessarily communicating with one another, and that has also led to different interpretations.
It has been my experience that as one's discernment becomes heightened and more clarified (in part through the use of jhana in one's practice), one is able, with more personal conviction and confidence, to break down this process in a way that more carefully explains it in terms of one's individual direct experience of it. Sometimes this jives with how others have described it, and sometimes it does not.
At one point in the interview, Leigh states that: "The word jhana means 'to meditate,' so when the Buddha tells his monks, 'There are empty huts, roots of trees, go meditate,' he's saying 'go jhana.' Everybody was doing jhana."
While I agree in general in what he is stating, he is stating this within a certain context: that of teaching new practitioners about jhana. And that's perfectly fine. However, within the context of a more mature practice wherein the practitioners had been practicing jhana for some time, I personally would take this a few steps deeper and provide a slightly modified concept or definition for the word "jhana." Earlier this year I began to work on a piece that would more precisely express my view about this issue, but have not been able to return to it to finish it. Perhaps this brief excerpt from it may provide some valuable food for thought for others.
It has often been said that during the time in which Gotama lived that, at least among a certain group of people, the practice of dhyana was commonly known and understood, and that there was therefore no reason to explain its practice in any great detail. Whether or not this was true is not the point, as the discourses themselves seem to be quite limited in their ability to describe the practice in ways that people unfamiliar with it might more easily understand it. Whatever the reason for this lack of detail in the discourses, the fact remains that beyond certain stock references in the suttas, little is mentioned there about the practice of dhyana.
That the practice of dhyana seems to be taken in the suttas to be commonly understood seems tacitly implied, given that the discourses are based on an oral tradition which was only centuries later written down. In an oral tradition, it might be taken for granted that any missing detail would be filled in by the person teaching the practice to another, and therefore may have seemed superfluous or even too complex to include in the process of oral memorization of the talks. Whatever the reason for this, we are left with little to go on from the discourses themselves in order to satisfy our curiosity of the meaning of this term dhyana.
Since there seems to be no correlation between dhyana and any kind of similar practice that we in the West might be readily able to relate to, we are left with attempting to figure out this practice for ourselves — with the help, of course, of those more experienced in the practice than ourselves. One problem which might arise in this circumstance is the problem of translation of the terminology used and the concepts employed to describe such terminology. Translation from one language to another can often be fraught with misunderstanding or mischaracterization of subtle detail. Then again, language itself can sometimes be a limiting factor in communication as it can tend to solidify or limit the impression given of a concept where in reality no such solidity or limitation exists or may have been intended.
One of the first words in meditation technology we are presented with to translate is the word samadhi. To the uninitiated, such a word can seem quite exotic and mysterious on first contact. Moreover, often popular characterizations can creep into the connotation of our conception of such a word, especially if one is being influenced by the more mysterious characterizations from Vedanta, Hindu, or Taoist sources. Thankfully, most translators of this word into English in its Buddhist context agree that samadhi can be fairly accurately rendered by the terms "concentration" or "meditation."
It is important to have an accurate definition of this term in a Buddhist context since it is so often used in the suttas. Even the eighth step on the Noble Eightfold Path employs this word in the compound term, samma-samadhi, to denote "right meditation" or "right concentration." For our purposes here, and in the context of the word's usage in the discourses, the term "concentration" will do to accurately characterize its employment. It is important to be clear about this definition as it will be useful for our understanding of the term dhyana. The development of samadhi therefore involves the development of abilities of mental concentration. Nothing more nor nothing less.
Turning our attention elsewhere, the Sanskrit word dhyana contains the root dhi, which means to "reflect, conceive and ponder over." In light of the context in which Gotama was likely speaking when he talked of dhyana, that context having to do primarily with the dispelling of ignorance, it is highly probable that this meaning of the word and the intent in which it was used took a great deal of its gravity from this connotation or interpretation. In other words, when he used the word jhana in the discourses, his intent was to communicate the degree of concentrated awareness necessary (the "reflective, pondering over" aspect of the mind) in order to dispel ignorance and thus foster mental awakening and recognition of "things as they are."
Some observers have argued that because dhyana has been interpreted as "reflection," "conceiving," and "pondering" that it is closer in meaning to the word "meditation" than it is to what has become the traditional idea of the word being translated as "absorption." And while I can concur with this view, it may also be the case that "absorption" in an object is a valid secondary description of this process of dhyana to the degree necessary for the mind to be able to "ponder" and "reflect" clearly on an object. Indeed for other modern meditation masters to state that the concept of jhana is equivalent to their description of this state as being appana samadhi, or "fixed concentration," (the next step up from the commentarial concept of upacara samadhi, which means "neighborhood" or "access" concentration), it would be plausible to presume that the primary intent for employing the term jhana is to describe this "fixed" sense of the mind being focused exclusively on an object in order to "know it as it truly is" thus allowing the mind to dispel delusion or ignorance.
If this latter is the more compelling case (and I am positing that it is) for interpreting the word dhyana (and hence jhana) as the ability of the mind to remain in "fixed concentration" rather than the more glamorous and popular word "absorption" — with all the extra baggage that that word can carry with it in terms of "bliss," "joy," "a pleasant abiding," "a temporary shutting down of the senses," "a temporary formless superconsciousness" etcetera — then perhaps a major conceptual obstacle can be avoided before it becomes too set in the mind of the aspiring student of jhana.
One who views the process of developing dhyana as being akin to an increase in the level and power of concentration for the ultimate cultivation of mental clarity is less likely to confuse this state with states of dull mindedness or "blissful musing" or whatever other associated ideas may come to mind. At the height of its full maturity, jhana reveals itself as a clarity, an illumination of the mind with regard to whatever phenomenon it holds its attention on.
When this circumstance occurs, then, it becomes easy to confirm the idea that the use of the tool of jhana represents the pinnacle of mental cultivation of which Gotama spoke, which was so necessary for the development of wisdom and insight (clear seeing). The kind of wisdom and insight that had him making such statements as: "And it is hard to see this truth, namely, the stilling of all formations, the relinquishing of all attachments, the destruction of craving, dispassion, cessation, Nibbana. . . . but there is cessation of formations. Having understood 'There is this,' seeing the escape from that, the Tathagata has gone beyond that."
"The gift of truth exceeds all other gifts" — Dhammapada, v. 354 Craving XXIV