one-pointedness

Editor’s note: Continuing on the Forest Monk theme, I was looking into the followers of Ajahn Mun and came across Ajahn Thate (1902 – 1994), a contemporary of Luang Pu Dune, born in the same geographical area. There is a short e-book: “Steps Along the Path” by Phra Ajaan Thate Desaransi (Phra Rajanirodharansi) translated from the Thai by Thanissaro Bhikkhu in 1994. When Ajahn Thate was active (1930s), the whole of the North – North East of Thailand was a vast area of original forest, stretching across the borders of Burma and Cambodia.

I’ve selected a few paragraphs and excerpts from the book here, that are insightful re: meditation development, in particular one-pointedness:

(2) “… train the mind to develop concentration (samādhi) and absorption (jhāna) through the practice of tranquillity meditation. Once the mind is adept at maintaining a steady focus, we can then develop clear insight (vipassanā) based on an understanding of the Three Characteristics of inconstancy (aniccā), suffering (dukkhā)), and (anattā) not-self. This will lead us to pure knowledge and vision of things as they actually are, and thus to release from all things detrimental and defiling.

3. For Buddhism, the true aim in developing concentration and absorption is to gather one’s mental energies and make them steady and strong in a single point. This then forms the basis for the knowledge and discernment capable of gaining true insight into all conditions of nature and eliminating all that is detrimental and defiling from the heart. Thus, stillness of mind is developed not simply for other, external purposes, such as the various fields of science. Instead, it’s meant specifically for use in cleansing the heart of such defilements as the five Hindrances (nivarana) But when you have practiced to the point of proficiency, you can use your stillness of mind in any way you like, as long as that use isn’t detrimental to yourself or to others.

4. In training the mind — which is a mental phenomenon — there is tutoring, first by listening to the explanations of those who are already skilled. Followed by a determination to practice in line with those explanations, basing your initial efforts on a sense of trust and conviction if your own independent explorations into cause and effect don’t succeed.

By and large, people who start out by exploring cause and effect on their own don’t reach their desired goal because they lack the proper approach. They miss the true path, tending instead to be biased in favor of their own opinions. To develop first a sense of trust in the individual giving the training and in the practices in which one is being trained until the mind is firm and unwavering, and then to begin exploring and figuring things out, in line with the way they really are: This is what will give satisfactory results.

This is because any beginning exploration of cause and effect is usually a matter of looking at things from the outside, following external influences — i.e., “This person says that… That person says this.” But to investigate and explore cause and effect exclusively within the bounds of the body — i.e., “What is this body of mine made of? How does it come about so that its parts are complete and able to perform their functions well? What is it to be used for? What keeps it going? Is its fate to develop or to deteriorate? Is it really mine?” — and then, going on to mental phenomena — “Do greed, anger, delusion, love, hatred, and so forth, arise at the body or at the mind? What do they come from? When they arise, are they pleasant or stressful?” — to reason and explore things strictly internally in this way is, in and of itself, training the mind.

But if your stillness of mind isn’t yet strong enough, don’t go reasoning in line with the books you may have read or the things you may have heard other people say, because even though you may think things through, it won’t lead you to the truth. In other words, it won’t lead you to a sense of dispassion and detachment. So instead, explore and investigate things in line with the causes and effects that actually arise from the mind in the present.

5. The mind investigating and figuring things out in line with its own personal reasonings in this way will tend to focus exclusively on examining a single spot in a single object. This is called one-pointed concentration. This is a gathering of the mind’s energies so that they have great strength, able to uproot attachments — mistaken assumptions — and to cleanse the mind so that it is, for the moment, bright and clear. At the very least, you will experience peace — an extreme sense of well-being in body and mind — and perhaps knowledge of one sort or another: knowledge of a strange and striking sort, for it arises, not from mental imaginings, but from the causes and effects of the truth acting in the present, in a way that has never happened before. Even if it is knowledge of something you may have suspected all along, only now is it your own, making your mind bright, driving away all doubt and uncertainty about matters that may have been occupying your thoughts. You will say to yourself with a sense of deep satisfaction and relief, “So that’s how it is!”

Those whose sensitivities are dull, though, won’t be convinced and delighted with their knowledge until someone else confirms it or they see teachings of the Buddha in books bearing witness to what they have learned. This is in line with the fact that the Buddha’s followers are of various sorts.

This type of knowledge — no matter how much or how wide-ranging it is — won’t weigh on your nerves. On the contrary, it’s a form of calm and true well-being that will greatly brighten and refresh your nerves. At the same time, it will refine your mind and manners in a way that will be very inspiring to others. Whatever you say or do, you will do mindfully, with hardly any careless lapses. Once this happens to you, you should then try to maintain all these traits and not grow careless or complacent.

[Note: We can pause the text here in order to investigate “one-pointedness.” Some Dhamma Footsteps’ readers may remember Ajahn Brahm’s reference to the subject in “Mindfulness, Bliss and Beyond.” Click on this Link:https://dhammafootsteps.com/2022/05/06/the-second-and-third-jhanas/

Buddhasassana Link to another commentary on “one-pointedness of mind” (ekaggatā). Click here:https://www.budsas.org/ebud/bd8p/bd8p_17.htm

Link to the original text:https://www.accesstoinsight.org/lib/thai/thate/stepsalong.html

Details about the image of Ajahn Thate, above: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Statue_of_Luang_Pu_Thet_

Desaransi,_Thai_Human_Imagery_Museum.jpg

discernment

[Editor’s Note: I’ve had to discontinue last week’s Phra Payutto text due to vision strain after treatment at the eye hospital on 31 July. I expect things to get back to normal in a few days. However, it’s also an opportunity to consider a completely different way of Teaching; from the flowing almost poetic language of Phra Payutto, to the minimalist expression of Luang Pu Dune. The following is taken from the introduction and text of the book: “The Gifts He Left Behind” compiled by Phra Bodhinandamuni. (Note: The term “Luang Pu” in Thai, means “Venerable Grandfather,” a title for respected senior Buddhist monastics.)

Luang Pu Dune (Ajahn Dune Atulo) 1888-1983, ordained at the age of 22 and after six years, disillusioned with his life as an uneducated town monk, he left to study in a temple in Ubon Ratchathani, where he befriended another monk, Ajahn Singh and together they reordained in the Dhammayut sect where they became disciples of Ajahn Mun.

After wandering for 19 years with Ajahn Mun through the forests and mountains of Thailand and Cambodia, Luang Pu received an order from his ecclesiastical superiors to head a combined study and practice monastery in Surin. It was thus that he took over the abbotship of Wat Burapha, in the middle of the town, in 1934. There he remained until his death in 1983.

Luang Pu’s Dhamma talks are extremely rare, this is because he never gave any formal sermons or discoursed at any great length. He simply taught meditation, admonished his students, answered questions, or discussed the Dhamma with other elder monks. He would speak in a way that was brief, careful, and to the point. In addition, he never gave sermons at formal ceremonies.

It was noteworthy — and amazing — that even though Luang Pu normally wouldn’t speak, or would speak as little as possible, he was still very quick and astute in his expression, never missing his mark. His words were brief but full of meaning, every sentence containing a message complete in itself. It was as if he would hypnotize his listeners, forcing them to ponder his words for a long time with their deepest discernment.

I lived with him to the end of his days, and have compiled this book of his short teachings, gathered from memory or from notes in my journal. I have included the events, locations, and people who were involved, to help make the passages easier to understand and more inviting to read.

Phra Khru Nandapaññabharana (currently Phra Bodhinandamuni) July 1, 1985

102. I remember that in 1976 two meditation teachers from the northern part of the Northeast came to pay their respects to Luang Pu. The way they discussed the practice with him was very delightful and inspiring. They described the virtues and attainments of the different ajaans with whom they had lived and practiced for a long time, saying that that luang pu had concentration as his constant mental dwelling; this ajaan dwelled in the Brahma attitudes, which is why so many people respected him; that luang pu dwelled in the limitless Brahma attitudes, which is why there was no limit to the number of students he had, and why he was always safe from dangers.

Luang Pu said, “Whatever level a monk has reached, as far as I’m concerned, he’s welcome to dwell there. As for me, I dwell with knowing.”

103 When those two monks heard Luang Pu say that he dwelled with knowing, they were silent for a moment and then asked him to explain what dwelling with knowing was like.

Luang Pu explained, “Knowing is the normality of mind that’s empty, bright, pure, that has stopped fabricating, stopped searching, stopped all mental motions — having nothing, not attached to anything at all.”

104. Luang Pu was pure in his speech because he liked to talk about the genuine truth. He’d speak only of the highest aims of the Buddha’s teachings; he’d refer only to the Buddha’s words that led solely to the end of suffering and stress. You could tell this from the Buddha’s teaching he quoted most often.

“Monks, there is that dimension where there is neither earth, nor water, nor fire, nor wind; neither the dimension of the infinitude of space, nor dimension of the infinitude of consciousness, nor dimension of nothingness, nor dimension of neither perception nor non-perception; neither this world, nor the next world, nor sun, nor moon. And there, I say, is neither coming, nor going, nor staying; neither passing away nor arising: unestablished, unevolving, without support. This, just this, is the end of suffering.”

Link: https://www.accesstoinsight.org/lib

/thai/dune/giftsheleft.html

the search for happiness

Looking back over the Japan trip (see previous post), I remember on the night we left Bangkok, I was finishing off packing for the six-hour journey and glanced at the bookshelf to see if there was a small book, I could read on the flight. Picked out a transcribed talk by Thai monk, Phra Payutto, a bilingual publication translated in English and titled: ‘Perfect Happiness.’  I thought, “Is there such a thing?” and was going to put it back on the shelf, but for some reason, slipped it into a zipped pocket on my cabin baggage and found that it fitted that space exactly. It’s as if the small book insisted on being there – and that’s how this Teaching I was talking about last week came to be with me again today.
At the airport I read bits and pieces of the English sections between the pages of Thai script… unable to get the sense of it right, except that, yes it was about happiness, but also suffering. Decided then, I needed to focus on this and get a clearer meaning of the word: suffering. So, I went to google and keyed in: “What Is suffering in Buddhism?” Then clicked on an item at the top of the list:
“Dukkha refers to the psychological experience—sometimes conscious, sometimes not conscious—of the profound fact that everything is impermanent, ungraspable, and not really knowable. On some level, we all understand this, yet we resist it. All the things we have, we know we don’t really have. All the things we see, we’re not entirely seeing. This is the nature of things, yet we think the opposite. We think that we can know and possess our lives, our loves, our identities, and even our possessions. We can’t. The gap between the reality and the basic human approach to life is dukkha, an experience of basic anxiety or frustration.” [from Suffering, Open the Real Path, by Norman Fischer]

There were other definitions but this was all pretty much the standard Buddhism terms I’m familiar with, and one sentence caught my eye: “On some level, we all understand this, yet we resist it.” But first I need to know about suffering in the Christian context. So, I keyed in: “What Is suffering in Christianity?” Then clicked on the first item on the list:
“The first truth about suffering is the recognition that it is alien to God’s plan of life. That might sound incredible, but to the Christian worldview, it is vital. Suffering is a product of the fall, a consequence of human sin against God (Romans 5:12; 1 Corinthians 15:21). Suffering is in our lives because we are living in a broken world. Some suffering is due to our sinful and wrong choices, but some is due simply to the world being fallen. This aspect of suffering should drive us to long for a better world, a world redeemed and freed from sin, a world that God will one day come again to establish (Romans 8:19-23). [Excerpt from Grand Canyon University:]
Suddenly I was a boy again, thinking about it and left with the distinct feeling that something bad happened in the past and that’s what is haunting us here today. That was the first time I had an idea of what the guilt complex must be like. Looking at it now, the phrase: “we all understand this, yet we resist it” is saying that, in Christianity, everything is in the hands of God means we don’t have to think about it anymore. In Buddhism however, there is no God so finding happiness and the end to suffering is something we do ourselves – according to the Buddha’s Teaching. The following is a short piece comprised of excerpts from Perfect Happiness the Print Copy, page 5, (the first criteria for relating to suffering and happiness) – ending on page 10.
“The Buddha urged us to understand suffering (dukkha) completely in order to have an insight into how we can be free of it. Suffering is there, only to be understood. The approach to understanding suffering can be divided into four criteria. The first is to refrain from creating extra, unnecessary suffering for yourself. This is necessary because we live in the world of nature and our lives proceed in line with conditioned phenomena. Conditioned things are impermanent, (aniccan) subject to stress (dukkha), and nonself (anatta), according to their nature. If we conduct ourselves unwisely, the dukkha of nature spills over as suffering in our hearts. We intensify and aggravate suffering, by going off in search of unnecessary suffering, and stacking it up in our hearts.


The dukkha inherent in nature is what it is. We have no conflict with this. We do not add to it, or pile on unnecessary suffering. By refraining in this way, we reach a level of ease and wellbeing; everything in the world exists according to its own natural dynamic. We can see how people relate to these things unskilfully, harbouring misguided attitudes and views, and unwittingly give rise to suffering. With clear discernment, we see how these worldly phenomena exist and proceed.
This rule applies also to the vicissitudes of life—turns of good fortune and misfortune, ‘worldly conditions.’ The sources of all our joys and sorrows, highs and lows. When we encounter these worldly winds, if we do not come to terms with them prudently, our happiness turns into sorrow, and any existing distress is exacerbated. Conversely, if we maintain clear discernment and skilful behaviour, our unhappiness turns into joy, and any existing delight is heightened. These worldly conditions befall human beings in line with the law of impermanence. There are four pairs of such conditions, namely:
gain & loss, fame & disrepute, praise & blame, pleasure & pain.
The Buddha said that these things are inherent in nature. By living in the world, they are inescapable. We all must face these conditions. If, when encountering these things, we maintain an incorrect bearing and behaviour, we inflict suffering on ourselves. When we obtain something good—some material reward—it is normal to feel delighted. Yet often, when people lose a possession, they grieve, because the object has vanished. If one responds to this loss unskilfully, by feeling gloomy and depressed, engaging in self-punishment, railing against life, etc., one only aggravates the situation and increases one’s misery.
So too with praise and blame. Everyone likes praise. Hearing words of praise, we feel happy and uplifted. But, when receiving blame, many people feel distress. What is the cause of this distress? It occurs because people allow these words of criticism entry into their hearts; having gained access, these words can cause torment and agitation…. but we can come to terms with these things and understand that this is the way of the world. The Buddha declared that by living in the world there is no escape from these worldly conditions. We can say, ‘Yes! I have met with these worldly winds. This is an aspect of truth. I will learn from these experiences!’ As soon as we can view these encounters as learning experiences, we have begun to adopt an appropriate attitude. ‘Ah, so things are this way. I’m beginning to see how things work in the world.’ We thus gain a firm foothold and realize contentment. This is the way of not accumulating unnecessary suffering.
Generally speaking, when people are buffeted by adverse worldly winds, they make a problem out of the situation, because they feel personally affected. But if they can alter their perspective, these encounters simply become learning experiences. Besides coming to terms with these situations, means we can also see them as an opportunity for spiritual training. Here, our entire attitudes and perspectives radically shift. We begin to see even those unpleasant and seemingly negative experiences as a test. With this shift in perspective, we gain from every experience. Both good and bad events are seen as a challenge of our character, a test of our skill and intelligence. As a consequence of this training and development, we become constantly stronger. In a sense everything becomes positive.
If we experience good fortune or encounter advantageous worldly conditions, we feel happy and at ease. We can then use that good fortune, for example. material gain, prestige, etc., to radiate this happiness outwards. We use it to perform good deeds and to assist others. In this way our happiness extends outwards and reaches a large number of people.
In the same way, if we experience misfortune or encounter adverse worldly conditions, we consider these situations as an opportunity for development. They become valuable life lessons—a means to hone mindfulness, problem solving, wise discernment, etc., leading to self-improvement. This is how disciples of the Buddha maintain the principle of reflecting on things skilfully. If we possess skilful refection, everything we encounter—both good and bad—is seen as a valuable and beneficial experience. Observing this principle is a fundamental of spiritual practice.

 (Continued next week.)

More information on Phra Payutto;
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/P._A._Payutto

Source for the original of this text: https://www.watnyanaves.net/uploads/File/books/pdf/661-Perfect-Happiness-Bilingual.pdf

Source for the header mage of the Buddha and Jesus:
https://owlcation.com/humanities/The-Many-Similarities-Between-Jesus-and-Buddha

Other images are of Shitennō-ji Temple in Osaka

furtherance

[Continued from last week] We got back to Bangkok from Osaka, Japan late Saturday night, 15 July. Even though, 2500 miles (4000 kms) away, the mind, still in Japan, shifts to the events that led up to M in Osaka finding the apartment next to the Buddhist temple, where she is now.
One curious coincidence I forgot to mention in last week’s post was the numbers of the street/apartment address contain her birthday date: I Chome (district) – 3 – 19: M’s birthday is March 19. She noticed it immediately of course, when she made her way to the address for the first time, not thinking too much if this was the place she would choose to stay, yes-or-no…  but if you like the karma of finding a location next to a Buddhist temple, as well as the birthday date/ number coincidence, and things just feel right, the conclusion is: of course, yes! So, she signed the contract and moved in. Since then we have walked around the grounds so many times of our quiet neighbour, resting here for the last 1,430 years,  we feel there’s a connection with this place, the oldest Buddhist temple in Japan, (Shitennō-ji;  四天王寺 (Temple of the Four Heavenly Kings).

Such a great expanse of historical time between then and now, and today the temple grounds are surrounded by the urban structures on all sides. So how relevant are the Buddha’s Teaching in Japan today? I see it everywhere, community orientated, living close together; similarities in cultural behaviour, the same characteristics of a Buddhist society as you find in Thailand. The Dharma lasts for ever – even if it’s wiped out by war or disaster… it comes alive again with the right kind of cultivation and the journey goes on. Circumstances cause things to change, evolve, according to karmic influences of this-and-that moving on in furtherance of the here-and-now that was the there-and-then,and the human condition as such.
“Dedicate whatever happiness you enjoy to all sentient beings, wishing that whatever you have gained from your own virtuous actions will help nurture and serve everyone. All that you do and experience, all your happiness and suffering, should lead to the development of bodhicitta.” [Sechen Rabijam Rinpoche from ‘Equanimity,’ Great Middle Way]

It was this idea of a birthday that reminded me of the Teaching that consciousness is birthed into every moment. There’s a talk by Thai monk, Phra Payutto, titled ‘Perfect Happiness’ that expresses this concept of generating happiness. The talk was given at the 84th birthday event of a local person, then transcribed in Thai and translated in English. I have selected excerpts here that convey the simplicity and profound beauty of the Buddha’s teaching which only Phra Payutto can communicate.

“Everyone is searching for happiness; however, some people may not realize that happiness is something we can generate on the spot, within our own hearts. Whenever we are endowed with such qualities as faith, love, a sense of friendship, joy, and clarity of mind, happiness arises spontaneously, in an instant.Today we are celebrating a birthday. If we think of a birthday as marking the day when our lives began—when we came into the world— then we are thinking of the past. We cannot go back in time and relive any past events, but we can in present time. The Buddha’s teachings, show us we are born in every moment, both physiologically and mentally. In terms of the mind, we can say there are both positive and negative births. Unwholesome states should be prevented from arising, understandably, and we strive to give birth to wholesome mind states: delight, joy, ease, inner clarity, faith, mindfulness, love, concentration, diligence, wisdom, etc. With the arising of such wholesomeness, our birthday celebrations are genuinely warranted.

Human beings naturally desire happiness and so, the teaching: ‘birth is suffering.’  may be unhelpful. But the Buddha was referring to an aspect of nature, to the reality of conditioned phenomena; what this means is that birth is subject to laws of nature: anicca (impermanence), dukkha (suffering) and anatta, (nonself). All things arise, are sustained, and then pass away. Everything is subject to change, unable to maintain its original state of existence. Everything exists according to causes and conditions. These are all attributes of nature, following a natural order.The dukkha inherent in nature, however, is not identical to the dukkha (‘suffering’) in the hearts of human beings. Dukkha arises, or does not arise, based on whether we relate to the dukkha inherent in nature wisely or unwisely. In the context mentioned above, the Buddha was simply describing a phenomenon inherent in nature, a truth of nature. Conditioned phenomena invariably conform to this teaching on the Three Characteristics, anicca, dukkha and anatta, but if we conduct ourselves unwisely, the dukkha inherent in nature turns into suffering in our hearts. Suffering arises because people relate to nature unwisely. If we leave the dukkha inherent in nature to its own devices—we leave it be, as it naturally is and do not allow it to create suffering in our hearts. He urged us to relate to suffering skilfully, and we will be happy. The way to become free of suffering and realize happiness is to understand and gain insight into suffering. By living our lives discerningly, we gradually experience more genuine and reliable forms of happiness and our suffering diminishes, to the extent of it being dispelled all together: all that remains is happiness.There is thus a special technique to be applied vis-à-vis suffering. Here are four practical guidelines on how to relate to suffering and happiness:

1. Refrain from creating extra, unnecessary suffering for oneself.

2. Do not forsake righteous forms of happiness.

3. Do not indulge in any sort of happiness, even righteous happiness.

4. Strive in order to realize higher forms of happiness.

If we are able to accord with these principles, it can be said that we are practising correctly.

[More next week]

notes on nibbāna 3

Excerpts from: The Magic of the Mind: An exposition of the Kāḷakārāma Sutta by Ven. Kaṭukurunde Ñāṇananda Mahathera: Suppose a magician should hold a magic-show at the four cross-roads; and a keen-sighted man should see it, ponder over it and reflect on it.

The news of the magician’s arrival has spread far and wide, and eager crowds are now making for the large hall where he is due to perform today. You too buy a ticket and manage to enter the hall. There is already a scramble for seats, but you are not keen on securing one. for you have entered with a different purpose in mind. You have had a bright idea to outwit the magician – to play a trick on him yourself. So, you cut your way through the thronging crowds and stealthily creep into some concealed corner of the stage.

The magician enters the stage through the dark curtains, clad in his pitchy black suit. Black boxes containing his secret stock-in-trade are also now on the stage. The performance starts and from your point of vantage you watch. And as you watch with sharp eyes every movement of the magician, you now begin to discover, one after the other, the secrets behind those “breath taking’ miracles of your favourite magician. The hidden holes and false bottoms in his magic boxes, the counterfeits and secret pockets, the hidden strings and buttons that are pulled and pressed under the cover of the frantic waving of his magic-wand.

Very soon you see through his bag of wily tricks so well, that you are able to discover his next ‘surprise well in advance. Since you can now anticipate his ‘surprises’ they no longer surprise you. His ‘tricks’ no longer deceive you. His ‘magic’ has lost its magic for you. It no longer kindles your imagination as it used to do in the past. The magician’s ‘hocus-pocus’ and ‘abracadabra’ and his magic-wand now suggest nothing to you – for you know them now for what they are, that is, ‘meaningless’. The whole affair has now turned out to be an empty-show, one vast hoax – a treachery.

In utter disgust, you turn away from it to take a peep at the audience below. And what a sight! A sea of craned necks, eyes that gaze in blind admiration; mouths that gape in dumb appreciation; the ‘Ah!’s and ‘Oh!’s and whistles of speechless amazement. Truly, a strange admixture of tragedy and comedy which you could have enjoyed instead of the magic-show, if not for the fact that you yourself were in that same sorry plight on many a previous occasion.

Moved by compassion for this frenzied crowd, you almost frown on the magician as he chuckles with a sinister grin at every applause from his admirers. “How is it,” you wonder, “that I have been deceived so long by this crook of a magician?” You are fed up with all this and swear to yourself “Never will I waste my time and money on such empty shows, Nev-ver. The show ends. Crowds are now making for the exit. You too slip out of your hiding place unseen, and mingle with them.

KāḷakārāmaSutta

At one time the Buddha was staying at Saketa in Kalaka’s monastery:

“Whatsoever in the world that is seen, heard, sensed, cognized, attained, sought after and pondered over by the mind – all that is known to the Tathāgata [Tathāgata is the word the Buddha uses in the Pāli Canon when referring to himself or other Buddhas], but the Tathāgata has not taken his stand upon it, or made an approach by way of craving or views. He sees a form with the eye, but in him there is no desire and lust (for it) He hears a sound with the ear…… smells a fragrance with the nose. He tastes a flavour with the tongue, touches a tangible with the body, cognizes an idea with the mind, but in him there is no desire-and-lust; he is well released in mind.

“Thus, a Tathāgata does not conceive’ of a visible.” [refers to the stage in sense perception when one egotistically imagines or fancies a perceived ‘thing’ to be out there in its own right, which results in a subject-object dichotomy perpetuating the conceit: ‘self,’ ‘I’ and ‘mine’] The Tathāgata does not conceive’ of a thing as apart from sight;’ he does not conceive of an unseen: He does not conceive of a ‘thing-worth-seeing’;’ he does not conceive about a seer.

[The terms ‘thing-worth-seeing, -hearing, -cognizing etc’ are pointing to the habit we have of imputing inherent value or substance to perceptions, thoughts and emotions. Without such imputation they do not possess any such solidity or worth]. Thus, the Tathägata being such-like in regard to all phenomena seen, heard, sensed and cognized, is ‘Such’. These modes of conceiving represent ‘the plane of voidness'(suññatabhumi).

“This barb I beheld, well in advance, whereon mankind is hooked, impaled. I know, I see ’tis verily so’- no such clinging for the Tathāgatas. Having seen this barb well in advance:” janami passami tatheva tam: A phrase often cited in the Pali Canon as representing the stamp of dogmatism characteristic of speculative views.

A clue to the difficulties experienced by the Buddha in coming to terms with the world, may be found in your own unusual experience at the magic-show. To all intents and purposes, you saw the magic performance. Yet, there are difficulties involved in any unreserved affirmation or denial. The position of a Tathägata who has fully comprehended the magical illusion that is consciousness, is somewhat similar. He too has seen all the magical performances in the form of sense data enacted on the stage of consciousness. And yet he is aware of the limitations in any categorical affirmation or negation. Whereas the worldling is wont ‘to take his stand upon’ the knowledge he has “grasped’, the Tathagata regards that tendency as a ‘barb’ in spite of (or because of) the fact that he has ‘fully understood’. In other words, he has seen the magic-show so well as to ‘miss the show from the wording’s standpoint.

The question of ‘seeing what-is-shown’, brings us to the relationship between sign and significance. Sense-perception at all levels relies largely on signs. Sense-objects are therefore signs which have become significant in themselves owing to our ignorance that their significance depends on the psychological mainsprings of greed, hatred and delusion. This, in other words, is a result of reasoning from the wrong end (ayoniso manasikara) which leads both the philosopher and the scientist alike into a topsy-turvydom of endless theorising.

If, with mindfulness and wisdom, the tendency to ‘go out’ into perceptions, thoughts and emotions is restrained, and one just allows seeing to be seeing, hearing to be hearing etc., the whole papañca-drama does not get launched in the first place [papañca: conceptual proliferation]. The heart then rests at ease, open and clear; all perceptions conventionally labelled as ‘myself or ‘the world’ are seen as transparent, if convenient, fictions.

[Note on the word Atammayata:

Literally it means ‘not made of that,’ and refers primarily to the quality of experience prior to, or without, a subject/object duality arising. This insight leads us into a contemplation of the relationship of the apparent subject and object – how the tension between the two generates the world of things and its experiencer, and more importantly how, when that duality is seen through, the heart’s liberation is the result.]

Image source and a text on papañca:

https://conciergepsychologyla.com/blog/papanca/

notes on nibbāna 2

Excerpts from “The Island: An anthology of the Buddha’s teaching on Nibbana” Ajahn Pasanno & Ajahn Amaro

Atammayata

The term atammayata cannot be found in the Pali Text Society Dictionary. Readers will find it difficult to discover references to it in scholarly works, whether they come from West or East. The meditation masters of Tibet, Burma or Zen do not seem to be interested in it. Mention it to most Buddhists and they will not know what you are talking about. Yet there is clear evidence in the Pali Canon that the Buddha gave this word significant meaning.

Atammayata appears in a number of Pali suttas and each context suggests that the term has important meaning. The traditional commentators’ standard explanation, although vague, describes it as the awakened state of the Arahant, or fully awakened, perfected being. Buddhadasa Bhikkhu, from Suan Mokkhabalarama in southern Siam, first took note of this word about thirty years ago. The contexts in which he found atammayata convinced him that its meaning is important.

The word literally means ‘not made of that.’ It can also be rendered as ‘non-identification,’ focusing on the subject side of the equation. Other translators have it as ‘non-fashioning’ or ‘unconcoctability’ – thus hinting more at the object dimension of it. Either way, it refers primarily to the quality of experience prior to, or without, a subject/object duality arising. This insight leads us into a contemplation of the relationship of the apparent subject and object – how the tension between the two generates the world of things and its experiencer, and more importantly how, when that duality is seen through, the heart’s liberation is the result.

Looking now at the Buddha’s words to Bahiya: Bahiya repeatedly asked the Buddha to teach him the Dhamma even though it was an inconvenient time for the Buddha: “It is difficult to know for certain, revered sir, how long the Lord will live or how long I will live. So, sensing the urgency in Bahiya’s demeanour, the Buddha gave the following Teaching: “ In the seen there is only the seen, in the heard, there is only the heard, in the sensed there is only the sensed, in the cognized there is only the cognized: This, Bahiya, is how you should train yourself. ”

“When, Bahiya, there is for you in the seen only the seen, in the heard, only the heard, in the sensed only the sensed, in the cognized only the cognized, then, Bahiya, there is no ‘you’ in connection with that. When, Bahiya, there is no ‘you’ in connection with that, there is no ‘you’ there. When, Bahiya, there is no ‘you’ there, then, Bahiya, you are neither here nor there nor in between the two. This, just this, is the end of suffering.” [ ~Ud 1.10] Bahiya realized full enlightenment even as he heard the few words of this teaching, kneeling in the dust and clamour of Savatthi  town that morning; and furthermore, true to his own sense of the fragile nature of existence, moments later he was impaled by a runaway cow and breathed his last.

This abandonment of subject/object dualities is largely contingent upon the correct apprehension of the perceptual process, and thus the breaking down of the apparent inside/outside dichotomy of the observer and the observed. A spectacularly thorough analysis of the perceptual process and the inability to find oneself anywhere within it (as demonstrated in the brief teaching to Bahiya) is to be found in a key text that revolves around the Buddha’s pressing of Ananda, his closest disciple and ever-watchful attendant, to describe exactly where his mind is: “It is the fault of your mind and eyes that you flow and turn. I am now asking you specifically about your mind and eyes: where are they now?” [~ the Śūraṅgama Sūtra]. The investigation is scrupulous in the extreme, with the trusty Ananda repeatedly being confounded by the Buddha’s wisdom – as he regularly was. Every nuance of object, sense organ and sense consciousness, every possible dimension of subject and object, are explored and demonstrated to be no abiding place for an independent identity. At its conclusion the analysis arrives at the same conclusion as the teaching to Bahiya: any clinging whatsoever to this/that, here/there, subject/object, inside/outside or anything in between is synonymous with dukkha; abandon such clinging and dukkha necessarily ceases.

In the Vedanta, we read that to be wholly and exclusively aware of Brahman is at the same time to be Brahman. The origins of this seem to lie in a theory of sense perception in which the grasping hand supplies a dominant analogy. It takes the shape of what it apprehends. Vision is similarly explained: the eye sends out some kind of ray which takes the shape of what we see and comes back with it. Similarly thought: a thought conforms to its object. This idea is encapsulated in the term tanmayata, ‘consisting of that’: that the thought of the gnostic or meditator becomes con-substantial with the thing realized. [~ Richard Gombrich] That is to say, with the opposite quality, in a-tammayata, the mind’s ‘energy’ does not go out to the object and occupy it. It neither makes an objective ‘thing’ or a subjective ‘observer’ knowing it; hence ‘non-identification’ refers to the subjective aspect and ‘non-fabrication’ mostly to the objective. The reader should also carefully bear in mind the words “The origins of this idea…” and not take the Vedic concept and imagery as representing the Buddhist use of the word entirely accurately. In the state of atammayata, in its Buddhist usage, there is no actual ‘becoming con-substantial’ with the thing that is being known…

In the final triad of the nine insights as outlined by Ajahn Buddhadasa, three qualities describe the upper reaches of spiritual refinement: sunnata – voidness or emptiness; tathata – thusness or suchness; atammayata – nonidentification or ‘not-thatness. When the qualities of emptiness and suchness are considered, even though the conceit of identity might already have been seen through, there can still remain subtle traces of clinging; clinging to the idea of an objective world being known by a subjective knowing even though no sense of ‘I’ is discernible at all. There can be the feeling of a ‘this’ which is knowing a ‘that,’ and either saying “Yes” to it, in the case of suchness, or “No” in the case of emptiness. Atammayata is the closure of that whole domain, expressing the insight that “there is no ‘that.” It is the genuine collapse of both the illusion of separateness of subject and object and also of the discrimination between phenomena as being somehow substantially different from each other.

Of the ten obstacles or fetters (samyojana) that stand in the way of enlightenment, the ninth is uddhacca – restlessness. The restlessness to which this refers is not the fidgeting of the uncomfortable meditator; it is the subtlest of feelings that there might be something better over there or just in the future; a feeling that ‘that’ (which is out of reach) might have more value in some way than ‘this.’ It is the ever-so-insidious addiction to time and its promises. Atammayata is the utter abandonment of this root delusion: one sees that in ultimate truth there is no time, no self, no here and no there. So rather than “Be here now” as a spiritual exhortation, perhaps instead we should say: “Let go of identity, space and time,” or: “Realize unlocated, timeless selflessness.”

The aim of all these teachings on atammayata is to show us that the dualities of subject and object (‘me and the world’), do not have to be brought into being at all. And when the heart is restrained from ‘going out,’ and awakens to its fundamental nature, a bright and joyful peace is what remains. This is the peace of Nibbana.

Image source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki

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notes on nibbāna

Ajahn Sumedho

A difficulty with the word ‘nibbāna’ is that its meaning is beyond the power of words to describe. It is, essentially, undefinable. Another difficulty is that most of us are conditioned see Nibbāna as something unobtainable – as so high and so remote that we’re not worthy enough to try for it. Or we see Nibbāna as a goal, as an unknown, undefined something that we should somehow try to attain. if you work hard, keep the sīla, meditate diligently, become a monastic, devote your life to practice, then your reward might be that eventually you attain Nibbāna – even though we’re not sure what it is.

Ajahn Chah would use the words ‘the reality of non-grasping’ as the definition for Nibbāna: realizing the reality of non-grasping. That helps to put it in a context because the emphasis is on awakening to how we grasp and hold on even to words like ‘Nibbāna’ or ‘Buddhism’ or ‘practice’ or ‘sīla’ or whatever. The Buddhist way is not to grasp. But that can become just another statement that we grasp and hold on to. It’s a Catch 22: No matter how hard you try to make sense out of it, you end up with this limitation of language and perception.

You have to go beyond language and perception. And the only way to go beyond thinking and emotional habit is through awareness of them, through awareness of thought, through awareness of emotion. ‘The Island that you cannot go beyond’ is the metaphor for this state of being awake and aware, as opposed to the concept of becoming awake and aware.

In meditation classes, people often start with a basic delusion that they never challenge: the idea that “I’m someone who grasps and has a lot of desires, and I have to practice in order to get rid of these desires and to stop grasping and clinging to things. I shouldn’t cling to anything.” That’s often the position we start from. Eventually, we realize that no matter how much we try to get rid of desire and not grasp anything, no matter what we do – become a monk, an ascetic, sit for hours and hours, attend retreats over and over again, do all the things we believe will get rid of these grasping tendencies – we end up feeling disappointed because the basic delusion has never been recognized.

This is why the metaphor of ‘The Island that you cannot go beyond’ is so very powerful, because it points to the principle of an awareness that you can’t get beyond. It’s very simple, very direct, and you can’t conceive it. You have to trust it. You have to trust this simple ability that we all have to be fully present and fully awake, and begin to recognize the grasping and the ideas we have taken on about ourselves, about the world around us, about our thoughts and perceptions and feelings.

The way of mindfulness is the way of recognizing conditions just as they are. We simply recognize and acknowledge their presence, without blaming them or judging them or criticizing them or praising them. We allow them to be, the positive and the negative both. And, as we trust in this way of mindfulness more and more, we begin to realize the reality of ‘The Island that you cannot go beyond.’

When I started practising meditation, I felt I was somebody who was very confused and I wanted to get out of this confusion and get rid of my problems and become someone who was not confused, someone who was a clear thinker, someone who would maybe one day become enlightened. That was the impetus that got me going in the direction of Buddhist meditation and monastic life. But then, by reflecting on this position that “I am somebody who needs to do something,” I began to see it as a created condition. It was an assumption that I had created. And if I operated from that assumption then I might develop all kinds of skills and live a life that was praiseworthy and good and beneficial to myself and to others but, at the end of the day, I might feel quite disappointed that I did not attain the goal of Nibbāna.

Fortunately, the whole direction of monastic life is one where everything is directed at the present. You’re always learning to challenge and to see through your assumptions about yourself. One of the major challenges is the assumption that “I am somebody who needs to do something in order to become enlightened in the future.” Just by recognizing this as an assumption I created, that which is aware knows it is something created out of ignorance, out of not understanding. When we see and recognize this fully, then we stop creating the assumptions.

Awareness is not about making value judgments about our thoughts or emotions or actions or speech. Awareness is about knowing these things fully – that they are what they are, at this moment. So, what I found very helpful was learning to be aware of conditions without judging them. In this way, the resultant karma of past actions and speech as it arises in the present is fully recognized without compounding it, without making it into a problem. It is what it is. What arises ceases. As we recognize that and allow things to cease according to their nature, the realization of cessation gives us an increasing amount of faith in the practice of non-attachment and letting go.

The attachments that we have, even to good things like Buddhism, can also be seen as attachments that blind us. That doesn’t mean we need to get rid of Buddhism. We merely recognize attachment as attachment and that we create it ourselves out of ignorance. As we keep reflecting on this, the tendency toward attachment falls away, and the reality of non-attachment, of non-grasping, reveals itself in what we can say is Nibbāna. If we look at it in this way, Nibbāna is here and now. It’s not an attainment in the future. The reality is here and now. It is so very simple, but beyond description. It can’t be bestowed or even conveyed; it can only be known by each person for themselves. So, we have to continue bearing with our emotional reactions and allow things that arise to cease, to appear and disappear according to their nature, then we find our stability not in achievement or attaining, but in being – being awake, being aware.”

I’m reminded of the Buddha’s response to Kappa’s question in the Sutta Nipāta:

For the sake of those people stuck in the middle of the river of being, overwhelmed by death and decay, I will tell you where to find solid ground.

    “There is an island, an island which you cannot go beyond. It is a place of nothingness, a place of non-possession and of nonattachment. It is the total end of death and decay, and this is why I call it Nibbāna [the extinguished, the cool.

    “There are people who, in mindfulness, have realized this and are completely cooled here and now. They do not become slaves working for Māra, for Death; they cannot fall into his power.”~ SN 1092-5 (Ven. Saddhatissa trans.)

“Excerpts from an Introduction by Ajahn Sumedho to ‘The Island,’ Ajahn Pasanno & Ajahn Amaro

beginningless time (part 2)

Gary Horvitz

The individual aspect of karma, how we are ensnared in habits of mind is what comes with us from previous lives. It follows us into this life and influences what we create now by conscious or unconscious action. This is the material of our practice, the essence of our personal version of delusion. To have any influence over our unique way of navigating time—and identity—our practice must orient to the level of our habitual view and decisions about time. Imagine breaking the spell of time. Suddenly we have a different view of what is enough or what is too little.

Samsara is also dying and recreating itself in every instant. We are all doing it together. We are all subject to its terms. We perpetuate those terms with every conscious act. Being asleep to micro-events of our lives, we are wanderers, constantly re-creating ourselves without realizing our true relationship to what we take for granted as ‘events.’ If we are to have any influence on the terms of living in samsara, this is where our attention must go. The more we become aware of Awareness and our common entrapment, bringing that into our daily life, the more we might regard our predicament as a perpetual purgatory. The inner character of every instant always seems just beyond our grasp. What’s more important is to realize that by this very knowing we are always presented a choice of view and of conduct. Even so, the discipline we apply to resting effortlessly in our daily existence and the attention we bring to the activity of mind is all influenced by the fundamental limitation to which we are all subject. That limitation is time.

The flow of our individual negotiation with time is what Mahayana might call relative karma. It’s relative by virtue of the artificiality of viewing ourselves in isolation from others, separate from the collective field, the universe of sentient beings. The bodhisattva is an enlightened being devoted to serving others and concerned with the welfare of all. Such a being has seen through the array of habitual decisions about time and untangled from them entirely. S/he has developed Awareness transcending time, entering a unitary dimension including collective activity, thought, and behavior. The accomplishment of the bodhisattva is to remain stable within the absolute condition of all beings while acting as an open heart at the relative level to elevate their karmic condition; that is, retaining a degree of individuality while acting for the collective. In the case of the bodhisattva, maintaining this balance is entirely natural, completely effortless.

The notion of collective karma, group, tribal or ethnic karma, organizational karma, national or even planetary karma, is not a Western distortion. There are many references to the idea of collective karma in Buddhist literature. To think this way is not a departure from Buddhist orthodoxy. From a relative view, such decisions certainly do occur at the group, tribal, national, and global level. A national leader may commit acts of violence. Whether the karmic seeds of such actions spread to individual members of the group may depend on whether that leader is supported or opposed. Since membership in the group is continuously changing from one day to the next or one year to the next, we cannot assign karmic effects to those members a year or a generation later for the actions of their predecessors. But if there is no such thing as an independent actor and if causality itself is difficult to pin down, how can we explain any of this?

When attempting to tease out the factors effecting developmental decisions and collective actions, we inevitably encounter conflicting values and the difficulty of assigning their relative importance, the relative participation of individuals in hierarchies of relevancy and influence. What is the greater good or the greater harm? Such views occur within the relative realm. The question remains: how to expand our view to access the inter-subjective, the deeper and unspoken common agreements that define a group? How else can we discern what is happening at the interbeing level of process and decision-making to evaluate or realize the developmental potential of the whole? Our discomfort may be eased by remembering that such complex karmic conditions are rooted in beginningless time.

From the absolute view, all phenomena being equal, there is no such thing as good or evil. These distinctions dissolve as we uncover the activity of mind assigning such attributes to what is no other than a value-free arising. This is very difficult to grasp, let alone accept, given our religious, social, and cultural conditioning. Yet all phenomena are both ‘here’ in the relative sense of time, judgment, and evaluation and are also ‘not here’ in the sense that the ground from which they arise is not conditioned on conventional reality whatsoever. Such arising is based on something else entirely—a pure, unobstructed, unconditioned ‘space’ in which, paradoxically, neither time nor space have any meaning at all.

If all phenomena are the same, arising independently of any judgments or projections, then karma is defined by our intrinsic conditioning (or hardwiring) to see the world in polarities. The Vajrayana and Dzogchen definition of true liberation is that all phenomena, the continuous effervescence of everything, is instantaneously recognized as the expression of essence nature (emptiness) before any attributes can be assigned or any value judgments can be made. Everything remains free of memory or plans, free of past or future. Liberation is the instantaneous evaporation of all attachment, reversing the continuous ‘flow into oneself,’ becoming free of all polarities, free from any tendency—or even capacity—to make such distinctions, which is to say, the extinction of time. Such a capacity may not seem very useful in the relative world…unless we recall the union of the Two Truths operating as one Mind, flowing out of ourselves, giving ourselves to both the time-bound and timeless nature of every act, regardless of whether extended or received.

About “Just Passing Through”

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beginningless time (part 1)

Gary Horvitz

From the view of awakened mind, the term beginningless is a non sequitur. It names a condition that cannot exist. Yet Hindu and Buddhist teachings refer to the karmic panorama of numberless lives stretching into beginningless time. As with the word infinity, a condition having no beginning and no end has no reference points whatsoever. We have no way to understand beginningless other than from a conventional definition of time. Beginningless is the best we can do to refer to the nonexistence of time altogether.

Modern physics theorizes the beginning of the universe (the beginning of time) to be the Big Bang, but there’s no reason to assume the Big Bang denotes a beginning of consciousness. When modern science speaks of consciousness, it’s a reference to ego-awareness. When Buddhists speak of beginningless time, they are referring to what preceded the beginning of the known universe and what will remain after it.

Time is nature’s way of preventing everything from happening all at once.

—Woody Allen

Allen may not be a quantum Jedi master, but he was onto something. In a quantum universe, some things do happen simultaneously, a condition called ‘entanglement’ in which atoms at a distance seem to ‘know’ each other and mimic behavior. But those entangled atoms arise from the same source. Relative consciousness can only imagine ‘everything’ as seemingly unrelated discrete events, jumbled together without order, arising in random fashion, crowding each other out as they compete for ‘space,’ clamoring for the limited resource of our attention in the chaos of phenomena. This would be an inaccurate view. As quantum theorists suggest (Bohr and Barad), there is no such thing as an objective event removed from the observer. Theoretically, events only arise as a function of our interaction with them. It would be more accurate to assume all events are intra-actions. There is no objectivity we can claim. We are engaged with co-arising phenomena in an endless flow of becoming and disappearing. It’s difficult to comprehend this reality. To the relative mind, this flow appears as the instantaneous partition of perception into binary categories (this and that, etc), imputing relative qualities to everything. We are constantly making up ideas and concepts about perception, including thoughts in relation to the timing of ‘events’ we perceive or imagine existing.

Is there any true substance to time at all? Not really. From a practical view, like money, time is a currency we use to organize our lives, our relationships, to prioritize and make sense of our self-care and interactions. Like money, its value is arbitrary, shifting on a daily or even moment-to-moment basis according to our changing priorities, health, age, and personal pursuits. Have you noticed how the value of money is also elastic, shifting just as quickly according to our material circumstances? Time is another tool we employ to create permanence. Our aggregate accomplishments over a lifetime may be viewed as a record of our relationship with permanence. It’s a key component of consensus reality, to be sure, but it’s also no more real than money.

Absolute reality is not some unconventional form of time, unfamiliar to us as we hurry to our next destination. There is no sequence of events. There are no events. There are no discrete moments; no procession from one thing to another because there is only one thing (which is not a thing at all): everything, free of any limiting or defining conditions—cognizant awareness, emptiness that knows itself. It is time-less. All that arises is a manifestation of the spontaneous dynamic unceasing creativity of Being without limitation or variation. The term beginningless is a conception arising from a relative view, intrinsically based in time, dubiously limited by karma. Normally, we are not capable of another view.

How might we extricate ourselves from the reflexive time-based mode of mentation to create space in our universe for a timeless view? The Sanskrit meaning of samsara is ‘continuous flow’—the repeating cycle of all the transitional events of human existence: birth, life, death, and rebirth. The root of the word samsara means ‘flowing into’ or ‘wandering through.’ It could also be thought of as spinning in circles. If we only thought of the transitional events (birth, death, and reincarnation) as features of samsara, we would be overlooking the continuous flow of moment-to-moment ‘events’ in between these major transitions. We are continuously wandering, always spinning into ourselves. Can we imagine anyone ‘flowing out of themselves?’ Why yes, we can. I would put the saints of history into this category, people completely flowing out of karma, out of themselves, whose entire beings come to represent an absolute and common truth: Jesus, Buddha, Rumi, Padmasambhava, Longchenpa, Mother Teresa, Meister Eckhart, Sheikh Ibn Al-Arabi, Garab Dorje, Neem Karoli Baba, Nisargadatta, Ramana Maharshi, Thich Nhat Hanh and so many more. What the hell, I’ll even include Dolly Parton—strictly in a spiritual sense. These are enlightened beings. The rest of us are still flowing into ourselves.

Despite quantum theory calling the substance of karma into question, we still regard karma as the essential feature of samsara. Our habits of thought and our immediate actions fuel samsara as we helplessly fall into duality over and over in a continuing moment-to-moment dependent co-origination of the phenomenon we call time. Our conceptual frameworks reflect the ways we are embedded in time. Language also reflects these conceptual frameworks.

Part 2 next week 09 June 23

About “Just Passing Through”

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infinite consciousness and the finite mind

Excerpts from a talk by Rupert Spira, titled “What is Reality?”

As a person, you have emerged from the universe, your body has been born from the earth so whatever you are as a person essentially must be the same as the universe from which you emerged. For the same reason… what a wave essentially is must be the same as what the ocean essentially is, because it is an emergence of that ocean. The reality of yourself and the reality of the world must be the same, the question then is what is that reality?

That reality is that which truly is. An illusion is not something that does not exist, it is something that does exist, but is not what it appears to be. Unlike, or instance, a square circle – not only does a square circle not exist, it doesn’t even appear as an illusion. What, then is an illusion? A landscape in a movie is an illusion, it does exist as something that is obviously there, but it is obviously not a real landscape. All illusions have a realty to them, and there must be something about the landscape in the movie that is real.

ln order to find out what is real we need to somehow penetrate through the illusion and touch its reality. We go up to the landscape in the movie, touch its reality, and we find the screen. We do exactly the same with this experience we are having, sitting together in this room. It is undoubtedly real, all experience is real, there is no such thing as an unreal experience. So, what is real about our current experience of the world? It could be an illusion, which doesn’t mean to say it’s not real, and doesn’t mean to say it doesn’t exist. It just means it may not be what it appears to be.

The way the world appears to be is directly correlated with our sense perceptions, our minds have the capacity of seeing, hearing, touching, tasting, and smelling and reality appears to us in the form of sights, sounds, tastes, textures and smells. There is a direct correlation between the perceiving apparatus and the world as it appears to be in accordance with the limitations of the apparatus through which it is perceived. So, do these sights, sounds, etc., we see out there, do they have their own standalone reality or do our minds confer upon them their appearance? For instance, what would the thing in itself be if we were to remove everything from it that our minds project on to it; the sights, sounds, tastes, textures, smells and concepts, perceiving and thinking, what would be left of reality? There would be no forms because these forms are what we see, hear, touch, taste, and smell. What would remain would be undoubtedly present, without any form it would be being itself – some would say, God’s being. When you go directly to that being in yourself you find the awareness that shines in each of us, the knowledge that ‘I am.’

The experience that I am is not mediated through thought or perception; I know that I am, I am not imagining it. So, is the ‘I’ that knows that I am, the same ‘I’ that knows I am, or is your being known by something other than itself? Are there two ‘I’s in you, one that is and the other that knows you are? It’s the same ‘I’, there is only one ‘I’ in you. Your being knows itself; it is self-aware. Here you could say that the Ultimate Reality of the universe is aware being, which is consciousness, and what we perceive as the world is the activity of reality, called Reality Consciousness, that moves or vibrates within itself, and that movement or vibration of consciousness, appears when viewed through our sense faculties as the physical world. When you fall asleep at night the activity of your own mind appears as a physical world from the perspective of a separate subject of experience in that world. So, what appears to us as a physical world is the activity of a universal mind or consciousness, whose nature is consciousness, not matter. It only appears as physical matter when perceived through the sense perceptions of a separate subject of experience within that world. There’s a beautiful line from Wordsworth’s “Lines Composed a Few Miles above Tintern Abbey,” dated July 13, 1798

“ [from line 106]…all that we behold from this green earth; of all the mighty world of eye, and ear,—both what they half create, and what perceive; well pleased to recognise in nature and the language of the sense, the anchor of my purest thoughts…”

This stunning realisation that, of this green earth, what we perceive is half created by us, half perceived by us. What he’s saying is that the reality of the world precedes the finite mind and is independent of it., and the mind creates its appearance but perceives its reality.  Our sense faculties, seeing, hearing, touching, tasting, and smelling create the way the word appears, the way reality appears to us. We perceive the reality of the world, we don’t create it, it’s already there.

To put it into more contemporary language, the world as we experience it is very close to quantum physics and I don’t want to go too far in this direction because I’m not a scientist. The world as we perceive it results from an interaction of infinite consciousness and a finite mind – a finite mind being a localization of infinite consciousness.

When we conceptualize independently existing selves and things, there is a separating-out… but it’s not what it seems. There’s something about this in Ian McGilchrist’s book “The Matter with Things.” He says: “Relationship precedes relata.” By this, he means relationship precedes things. What it means is that normally we think there are things – things come first, and then there are relationships between things. He’s suggesting it’s the other way round, there is relationship between the whole infinite consciousness and the finite mind and it is the interaction between these two that creates the appearance of things. So, things come about as a result of this interaction, rather than the relationship being created by the things. But don’t think Reality is just a dead, inert being or consciousness, it moves, it is moved but the whole cannot see itself … let me try to demonstrate first why the whole cannot see itself.

Look at this glass I’m holding, you see this glass from a single point of view and therefore see it as a single glass. If you were to take a snapshot of your view of the glass, then change your seat and go to the other side of the room, take another snapshot of the glass and superimpose the two images, like transparencies, one on top of the other, you’d now have two glasses looking roughly the same but it would begin to look blurred. Now, say you did that four times, eight times, 16 times, 32 times and you superimposed all the images on top of each other, it would begin to look like a Cubist painting, the integrity of the glass would begin to disintegrate, you’d see all different angles of the glass. Now keep on doing that, 64 times, 128 times, 200, 400, and so on from different points of view in space. The image would get darker and darker until it would be utter darkness and that’s why the whole cannot perceive reality, it cannot perceive the world directly – there’s no form.

From the point of view of the whole, consciousness has no view of the world directly, it cannot perceive itself directly, it just knows its own being but that being doesn’t appear in any form. In order for its movement to be perceived or known, it must be perceived or known through a localised perspective. That’s what each of our minds are; a localized point of view within consciousness, from which it is able to perceive its own movement, its own activity as an apparently physical world. The activity of consciousness is there prior to the finite mind but the finite mind lends the world its appearance. Hence the world that we experience is an interaction between these two segments of reality. It’s the same realty; infinite consciousness and the finite mind but they have to seem to separate in order to bring something into existence.

Image: Rupert Spira’s Open Bowl, 2007, a stoneware piece with embossed text under white titanium glaze. Acquired by Friends of the V&A in 2013.

Link to the Rupert Spira talk:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LyyojKcGDNY&t=1417s

About Rupert Spira, Wikipedia:https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rupert_Spira