Perception vs. Reality

Seeing you seeing me.

The President’s daughter Ivanka Trump says, “Perception is more important than reality.” Obviously, a distinction is made with that statement. The difference is that perception, alone, is not reality. 

More than likely, every person agrees there is a difference between the two. We know what perception is, but do we know what reality is? It is a nonsensical statement to say the two are different unless we can define both perception and reality. Ordinarily, everyone believes they know what reality is, but when pressed to explain it, hesitation arises, for a good reason. One of the most intelligent scientists to ever live (Albert Einstein) said this: “Reality is merely an illusion, albeit a very persistent one.” Could he be right?

Let’s test his hypothesis, and to do so, we must begin by defining some terms, such as what can be perceived and measured. Scientists deal with measurement. If something can be measured, the presumption is that it is real, and the opposite: No measurement=Not real. So far, so good with our test. So what can be measured? Anything objective can be measured. Non-objects can’t.

Given that, let’s return to grammar school and consider the following sentence: “I see me.” That sentence is instructive to our test. The word “I” is the subject, “see” is the verb, and “me” is the object. Now let’s consider the logic and the previous agreement: Any object can be measured and is thus real. 

If the grammar is correct (and it is), then “I” am not real because “I” is a subject, and a subject is different from an object. But wait! “I” am clearly real, and so are you. I am writing, and you are reading, so where is the fly in this ointment?

Now, look at the image at the top-right. There you see a picture of two people looking at each other. The clear conclusion is that every person (or sentient being: dog, cat, iguana, cow…any entity with consciousness, capable of perception) is both an object seen and a subject doing the seeing. Thus, it is an indisputable fact that any and every sentient being is both real and unreal at the same time. If so, can reality and illusion be a package deal: One part objective (and measurable, thus real, in scientific terms) and the other part subjective (and immeasurable, therefore unreal, according to the scientific criteria)?

If we (subjects) are unreal, then nobody can know anything, at all, about anyone else and what we think is real is merely an illusion. 

Einstein is correct. His hypothesis holds up, and this begs the question: How is perception different from reality? And one final point: When we refer to a self-image (ego/image of I), we refer to an unreal object that is seen. So who, or what is the subjective us that is doing the seeing? Obviously, it is the part of us that is allegedly unreal, but it is the only part of us that is real, despite Einstein or rational logic. 

The flip side of this coin is the real subjective aspect of us sees nothing but unreal illusions. Now answer the original question: What’s the difference between perception and reality?

Seeing you seeing me.

Nearly 400 years have passed since the great Scottish poet, Robert Burns, offered the words, “O would some power the gift to give us to see ourselves as others see us.” 

Seeing ourselves, in that way, is a daunting challenge. What others see is limited to the perception of our objective nature, and the same is true in reverse: we see the outside evidence, and they see ours. None, however, can ever see another’s true subjective nature. We see the tip of the iceberg but not what lies beneath. 

The evidence of what lies beneath must be seen through word and action. In the Mahāparinirvāṇa Sūtra, The Buddha himself is quoted as having said there are two kinds of understanding: “One is seeing by outer signs, and the other by fathoming. Seeing by outer signs is like seeing fire from afar when one sees the smoke. Actually, one does not see the fire. Fathoming is like seeing the colour of the eye. A man’s eye is pure and does not get broken (damaged by looking). The same is the case where the Bodhisattva clearly sees the Way, Enlightenment, and Nirvana. Though he sees thus, there are no characteristics to be seen...Seeing the actions of body and mouth, we say that we see the mind. The mind is not seen, but this is not false. This is seeing by outer signs.” And Jesus, likewise said, “Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep’s clothing, but inwardly they are ravenous wolves. You will know them by their fruits.” 

Our inner truth is reflected through word and deed. We are all seeing through a glass either filtered by the darkness of how we think and imagine ourselves, through the bias of our own egos, or through a clear lens cleansed of defilement. What we believe ourselves to often stand against how others see us and that contrast is a thorny problem everyone must work through before the darkness vanishes. We can see clearly, life as it truly is: a magnificent creation—a heaven on earth!

The genuine truth is the same regardless of source. The same is true of wisdom. If honesty and knowledge are real, they will be the same for all people irrespective of origin or affiliation. Nevertheless, people often are misled between gold and fool’s gold. Genuine gold is always authentic, regardless of judgments and filtered bias. In the 13th chapter of 1st Corinthians, the Apostle Paul addresses this matter of the accouterments of religiosity compared to correct vision. 

He said, “…where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when completeness comes, what is in part disappears. When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me. For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.”

This wisdom is not different from that offered by Jesus in the Gospel of Thomas to which I referred in a previous post Getting saved: “When you know yourself, then you will know that you are of the flesh of the living Father. But if you know yourself not, then you live in poverty and that poverty is you.” 

Neither is it different from the words of The Buddha found in the Sutra of Perfect Enlightenment: “Good sons, it is like smelting gold ore. The gold does not come into being because of smelting...Even though it passes through endless time, the nature of the gold is never corrupted. It is wrong to say that it is not originally perfect. The perfect enlightenment of the Tathagata (A Buddha: our right mind) is also like this.”

The central battleground is the impediment that blinds us all and turns righteousness into self-righteousness. What is right doesn’t depend upon our ideas about ourselves. Right is always right. Truth and wisdom are always what they are. To claim that our views alone are right, standing against the opinions of others, is nothing other than an egotistical reflection of the internal workings of not understanding who we indeed are: “…flesh of the living Father.” We can see the flesh. The question is, can we see “…the power of the gift within.” When completeness comes, what is in part disappears. Then only will we know fully, even as we are fully understood.

Who do you think you are?

By now you see the difference between a thought about things and the reality of things. One is abstract and the other isn’t, and the “isn’t” can’t be described. 

So who do you think you are? Are you an abstraction that can be described or a reality that can’t? And the truth is an abstraction has no power to do anything. An abstraction is unreal and wholly conceptual. Our real personhood is beyond thought because it is real, but it too can’t be found. But we think we can be found. When we look in a mirror, we see our image there. But who is seeing that image there? 

Is an image the same thing as the one doing the seeing? Is your car the same thing as the manufacturing facility? Are you the same thing as your source? And are you 100% sure the mirror is “out there” reflecting an image of you? Or is the mirror “in here” reflecting an image of an image of you? What’s the difference between “out there” and “in here”? Are you a thought image? What’s the difference between thinking and knowing? Give these questions some serious thought, or better yet begin to notice the limitations of rational thought. And then come back tomorrow as we go into the looking glass— the human mind that can’t be found.

Intimacy and Objectification

When we objectify anything, we remove ourselves from it. Often we may say, “I’m just objective” without realizing what we are saying. Subjectivity is more honest. It recognizes the lens of our own being to perceive. We are not objective and will never be. We experience life through our own biases and experiences. When we miss-identify ourselves and adopt the cloak of ego, our bias is self-serving, and the natural result is objectification and alienation.

Objectification is a form of abstraction, such as when an artist represents something through paint, stone, or words. Unless the artist is completely lost, they will be clear about the difference between what they represent and the medium they employ. That difference—always, entails duality. An artist, creating works of art, is an objectification. The work comes from their subjective nature but is expressed as an objective, perceptible form. The thinker is dually creating thoughts. The thinker is an abstraction, and abstractions are not real. Both thoughts and thinkers are objectified condensations about reality, which are cut off from life.

When there is objective separation, true intimacy is not possible. An imaginary self is an impediment to integration. It is an illusionary, one-sided dimension that blocks wholeness and denies intimacy with our real self and, therefore, others. An imaginary self understands itself as independent and can’t see the interdependent connection to others. It is a psychic island cut off from life.

The ego adopts a stance of “what’s in it for me” with expectations of return on investment in an objectified role. Compassion and equanimity are not possible, objectively. There may be the appearance of virtue, but ego-centricity is waiting for that return, and if not provided, disappointment will result. Genuine compassion is intimate and non-discriminatory with repose as its defining characteristic. The only way such a thing can occur is through subjective identification in a non-dual way. When the subjective nature of Self identifies another Self, there is the recognition of unity.

Seeing you Seeing me.

The amount of energy and consideration which routinely goes into the notion of personal identity is huge. It’s taken as a given that we know ourselves but even though the matter is of paramount importance it is questionable that anyone really “knows” themself. And if nobody knows themself how is it possible to truly know someone else?

When we meet someone for the first time, we want to know something about them and they want to know something about us. So we say, “Tell me something about yourself.” And then they begin to tell their stories—Name, job, interests, family, etc. And then we tell our story. The question—the only relevant question is: Are we nothing more than a name or a job or any of the other characteristics we share? Names can change. Jobs come and go. Interests shift over time and sadly families die just like we do. All of these objective measures are in a constant state of change. Objects are impermanent. They are like a suit of clothing that gets put on and taken off. Do we in fact have a permanent identity? Something upon which we hang those objective, impermanent clothes?

It isn’t something we think about very much but perhaps we should because if we did we might discover an essential truth which explains the cause of much suffering. There is a beauty that comes with getting old and I’m not talking about impermanent clothes; not even my objective body which is not what would be called “beautiful.” That part of me would be called decrepit but that is Okay because it is not who I am.

A long time ago I studied grammar and learned about such things as subjects and objects. I don’t remember much beyond that but just knowing the difference between a subject and an object is very helpful in nailing down this matter of identity. As I’ve aged I’ve noticed what changes and what hasn’t. Everything has changed except one thing: Me—The subjective me; the me who sees the changes, hears, smells, tastes, touches, and thinks. So I like everyone else who has ever lived identifies with that subjective me—the one inside my changing, objective skin. There is just one little problem with that view: When I objectify my subjective me, and by that I mean when I imagine that me inside and convert it from a subject into an object called an ego or a self-image. When that conversion takes place that too then undergoes change and becomes subject to suffering.

Here is the truth: A subject can’t be seen. Only objects can be seen. We want to be true to ourselves and to others but it is very difficult to be true to what can’t be known, objectively and that applies to ourselves also. So to meet that mental challenge we create an objective surrogate which we then take to be who we are. If you want to conquer suffering you’ll take the time to understand this piece of mental sleight-of-hand. WE SUFFER BECAUSE WE BOTH “REIFY” OBJECTS AND OBJECTIFY WHAT IS REAL. I write these words in capitals because suffering boils down to that. It is just that simple. So what does this word “reify” mean? It means to imagine life where there is none. And of course, to objectify something means to mentally convert life into a stone.

The Buddhist definition of reality is most exact. Accordingly, reality is understood as something which has substantial, intrinsic, independent status and the opposite is true as well. Something is unreal which does not subscribe to that understanding. Therefore “subjects” are considered real and objects are not. An object (any and every object) is dependent and has no intrinsic substance yet we can see objects. So here is where this understanding solves the suffering problem: If you can see (or perceive in any way) something, know that it is unreal and has no power to harm the real subjective you. That true you is beyond harm or suffering since it is eternal and hasn’t changed a whit during your entire life. Yes of course our bodies (the objective us) experience pain, but suffering is not pain. Pain is unavoidable but suffering is a spiritual/mental issue. If we can hold that understanding as our reality then when we see thoughts and feel emotions percolating up from our memories we can see them as objective residue rather than reality.

The essential matter is not who we are subjectively but rather who we aren’t objectively. When we confuse this identity issue not only do we not know ourselves but we mistake our real nature for an objective ghost.

Isolation or Unity

In the past few days, a man murdered three women, injured 10 more, and then turned his gun on himself. He left behind many tracks declaring his intention, one of which was his blog. Amongst his many comments, he said that he felt isolated and rejected. 

Sadly this is not an unusual reflection in today’s world. Rather it is very understandable given how we ordinarily consider ourselves and others. Phenomenally we are all very different and separate. If that is all that we are, everyone can only experience themselves within that tight definition—isolated and estranged. 

That is a fairly accurate understanding of what phenomenal life means: As things appear. When we consider ourselves and others as purely phenomenal, the only possible conclusion is that we and they are mere objects, lacking intimacy and life. In that case, shooting someone is not much different from a video game. In our contemporary world, too often, this one-sided view has become the standard—pure objectivity and nothing else. Buddhism holds a very different view. 

Not only are we (and all life) objects, but we are also subjects and whatever is subjective contains an eternal spirit that is unborn and never dies. The unity of these two sides (phenomena and noumena, or subject and object) is accepted as a fundamental aspect of existence. Given that unity, all of life is sacred and without discrimination. The lowest of life-form contains the same Buddha-Nature as the most enlightened person. This understanding can radically transform anyone’s experience from isolation to unity and from a lack of caring to compassion.

Perpetual Motion

Our daughter tried for a long time to build a perpetual motion machine from her Legos. She wasn’t the first to give this a shot, but as attractive as the idea seems, no one has succeeded. The physical law of Conservation of Energy states that energy can’t be created nor destroyed, only converted from one form into another. In that conversion, the generated energy must never fall below the energy used to keep the motion going.

I’ve often wondered about the fit between a perpetual energy machine and the way our minds function. The parallels are insightful and instructive in understanding the meditative process. We have a machine within us that manufactures products that are then converted into energy used to fuel the machine, which produces more products in a never-ending feedback loop. The machine in question is the self, which for illustration purposes, let’s call a “thinker.” This thinker manufactures the products of thought, and these thoughts are used/converted by the thinker-machine into energy, which sustains the self-thinker. In a pure sense, this process is a perpetual motion machine. The critical question is whether or not the energy used is equal to the power generated?

Taking this process apart can be quite educational in guiding the meditation practice. What happens on the cushion? It goes like this: We sit down and turn on the machine. It begins to think. 

Actually, the machine is already on (it’s always running), but we just become aware when we sit down. Because we are mindful, we notice the object/thoughts. Because we have given our self, the instructions: (1) when we notice these object/thoughts, we neither cling to nor resist (forms of attachment), but (2) will instead concentrate on the breath. This works for a while, and then (3) the machine starts up once again. We repeat steps 1 thru 3, and then the cycle continues over and over. 

Some times we have a hard time even getting to the first step but instead are caught up in the pre-step #1 conversation because we are not sufficiently mindful to even notice the conversation. Other times we are mindful but not sufficiently concentrated. Yet other times, we can stay within the boundaries of steps 1 and 2 and rarer, yet the machine just stops with no more object/thoughts being manufactured. When that happens, the thinker goes on vacation, and we enter samadhi.

This machine operates according to a set of dynamic “instructions” within the five skandhas framework, which is worth considering. The first of the five is “form”: The physical/psychic/emotional capacities which constitute what sits on the cushion. The second is “feeling.” This includes sensations that our form feels with its functions. Accordingly, these feelings can be physical, mental, or emotional sensations. The third skandhas are “perceptions.” 

Ordinarily, we think of perception as being equivalent to sensing. It is hard to imagine sensing something which we don’t perceive (or vice versa). However, from a Skandhas point of view, perception includes a post-sensing aspect, which entails discrimination and judging; in other words, how we react to what we sense. We sense (become aware of) a particular object/thought, we vote on whether or not we like/don’t like the object/thought, and we move on to the fourth skandhas “will or volition,” where we choose how to react (cling or resist). 

And lastly, there is consciousness, what we could call mental state or mood. These dynamic instructions are operating continuously and are a critical aspect of what moves the “machine.”

It is not a given that these causal links must continue automatically in an unbroken fashion. In fact, the Heart Sutra tells us that these five are empty, which means that they don’t have a life of their own. They are causally linked, and they can be interdicted through mindfulness and redirected concentration. 

For example, a sensation in the knee is not pain. “Pain” is the result of the post-sensing aspect of discrimination, judging, and labeling. The feeling is just a sensation that we perceive, judge, label, choose how to respond, which then generates a mood. This entire chain of causal links occurs at lightning speed—so fast that it seems like a single thing, but it is not. 

When we sit and observe, we can see the separate links happening and realize that we don’t have to go along for the automatic trip. Try it the next time you sit. Observe the process and see if you can make a different choice. For example, if your knee is hurting, try to just stay with the sensation without turning it into a vote of “pain.” Just focus on the pure sensation and choose to not move. If you can cut the chain at this juncture, the remaining links will not materialize because they depend upon what occurs before their turn. For example, without the judgment of “pain,” there won’t be the next step of volition and without volition, no ensuing “mood.”

What this mindful/awareness/choice teaches us is that we can choose to alter our karma. We don’t have to accept our automatic instructions and the resulting karma that flows from our perpetual motion machines. Either we will run the engine, or it will ruin us.