Infinite us.

We have a vision problem. We can see some things and not others. And naturally, we assume that what we see is the true you and me. 

That detectible is the objective part of us. We can touch, feel, see, and perceive it in every way our sensory faculties allow. That part is finite. It is born, it grows, and ultimately dies. That objective aspect has an imaginary identity, and we define and clothe it in a nearly unlimited set of configurations. We cherish such configurations and use them to represent us. We group these configurations into common frameworks in order to feel comfortable with others who choose similar arrangements, and we call this grouping, “flocking together with birds of a feather.” These birds love to fight other birds that don’t look the same.

This is the ordinary way of understanding ourselves in relation to others, and there is an unseen problem here because nothing objective possesses sentient qualities. A stone is a pure object. So is a blade of grass. Neither of these (and many other examples) has sentient qualities of consciousness, at least as far as we know, but we do. All animate beings have both sentient qualities and consciousness. These are the faculties that differentiate us from pure objects, and these are what make us human. But neither consciousness nor sentient dimensions can be seen because this is what is doing the seeing.

There are two parts of us, which are completely integrated into a single human being. One part is seen. One part is seeing. One part is infinitely different and seen, and the other part is infinitely the same and unseen. One part is finite, and one part is infinite. The true you and the true me is never born and never dies, but the other part does both. We’re told we now share the earth with 7 billion very different objective human bodies, and yet on another level, there is only a single, just-like-everyone-else infinite us. It’s a profound mystery.

Mixing it up.

We’re a curious species. Being human puts us at the top of the food chain. It also puts us at the top of other chains, such as the chain of creativity. No other life form (at least none that we know of) can imagine and solve problems as we do. 

Unfortunately, this seems to be a two-edged sword. One way cuts in the way of creation, and the other way cuts in the form of destruction. We are masters of both.

Awhile back, I wrote an article called a “Bird in hand” and spoke about compounds that result from mixing different things together. The point of that article was that once mixed, an entirely new compound results. The separate ingredients can then no longer be detected, but something new has been created.

I’m an old man now and have been kicking around spiritual conclaves for quite some time, and I’ve noticed a meaningful thing about compounds. People show up in a wide variety of such places for various reasons, but the alleged reason is they go there seeking God. After a time, many remain for other reasons, and they forget about why they came in the first place. A rare few figure out an essential truth: God doesn’t live in churches, synagogues, or temples. God lives in people.

Many people pay lip service to what their own scriptures tell them. For example, Christian scripture says that “You are the body of Christ.” If you happen to be a Buddhist you’re taught that everyone contains the enlivening essence of The Buddha. But too few seem able to accept the resulting compound and just go ahead and act like God is absent from the true temple of themselves.

Have you ever wondered what our world would be like if everyone conducted themselves by embracing this fundamental principle? If we really want to make the world a better place, begin to see yourself and others as a compound container of divinity. I am aware that most of us exhibit some less than ideal nastiness, but it’s also mixed together with genuine love and compassion. Adversity seems to bring out the goodness that is always there. And even if you don’t accept the idea that we are the resulting compound mixture of spirit and matter, it never hurts to pretend that we are.

Ideas and what ideas are about

Ideas about ideas

We think in image forms. Thoughts are not real. They are abstractions, coded messages that represent something but are not what’s being represented. In our minds-eye, we see a constant flow of images and ordinarily, imagine these images are real and, in such a state of mind, go unaware that there is a watcher of this flow. That’s what being conscious of our thoughts means. There is a watcher, and there is what’s being watched. Neither of these (the watcher or the watched) can exist by itself. It takes both for thinking to occur.

On the left side of our brain is the image factory, creating thought images, and on the right side of our brain is the watcher of the images. It’s a marvelous system, and both sides must function together. But since we have two sides, responsible for different functions, each side does things differently. The left side thinks in language (coded images). The right side “thinks” in pictures (interpreting the images). The left side talks but doesn’t understand, and the right side understands but doesn’t talk. Together the two sides make a great team, but individually they make for bad company.

The problem with our world today is that we are predominately left brain analyzers and have not been trained to make sense of what’s being analyzed. Education (in a normal sense) trains our language and analytics capacities but ignores our capacities that enhance compassion, creativity, and insight. Consequently, we are out of balance aggressors, dominated by our egos, and unaware that we are creating an abstract and unreal world that is progressively more violent and hostile.

The problem with identity is that we assume that an objective and independent watcher is doing the watching. We label that watcher as “me”—a self-image (otherwise called an ego). But here is where this must lead. So long as we see an image of ourselves, that image (ego) can’t possibly be the watcher because the watcher can’t see itself. So long as we see any images (self-image included), there is a difference between what is being watched and the watcher.

Some time ago, I read Paul Brok’s book “Into the Silent Land,” and wrote about what he had to say. Broks is an English neuropsychologist and science writer. The astonishing thing about our mind was laid out in these terms:

“That, which is basically inanimate ‘meat,’ can and routinely does animate with consciousness, cognition, imagination, feelings and every other aspect of our mental condition seems to float by as a given.” Due to FMRI imaging, it is possible to see certain parts of our brain light up when various thoughts and emotions are being processed. He observes that nothing remotely resembling any of these functions is found when a brain of a cadaver is dissected. It is indeed a mystery, yet we know neural activity occurs as abstractions of reality, but nobody can actually “touch” what is real.

The true person has no image dimension because all images are objective, whereas the true person is subjective. Subject/Object—Two halves joined together into a single real thing. One part can be seen (an image), and the other part can’t be seen (the watcher of the image). An image isn’t real. It just looks that way. The part that is real is the part that can’t be seen.

Waking Up.

Have you thought deeply about what it means to be conscious? We have invented a vast number of concepts to represent dimensions of life in every configuration. Still, most of the time, we use these concepts like intellectual barter coins without examining the coins. 

This lack of examination is that we go on automatic most of the time and then wonder how we got into situations. Today, I want to talk about what it means to be conscious, in any form ranging from the unconscious and beyond.

To be conscious really means to be aware of something. If we are not aware, the presumption is that there is nothing going on. Lights “on” and we see objects—we become conscious of them. Lights “off” and we see darkness. When we are asleep and dreaming we are said to be unconscious but this is of course not an accurate representation if we are aware of our dreams. Even when we are asleep we can be aware of the images which waft across our dream mind. 

It is always about the images—the holograms which we see in our “mind’s eye” that establishes the sort of consciousness to which we are making reference. In fact, we could say that being aware of images is the best way to define consciousness, in any form. So long as we see images we are conscious. How we slice the matter up after that is less important.

So what about states of mind when there are no images? We do in fact experience such non-image states, and in Zen, this is the state of mind we aim for—a pre-conscious state of mind with no images. Why is that state so desirable? Because so long as there are images, we are drawn to and absorbed by the images and lose touch with our subjectivity. We are drawn to objective images as a moth is drawn to a flame with similar results: We get burned by our thoughts, which of course are produced by our imaginations.

In Buddhism, we learn that our sense of reality is upside down. What we experience of normal life is really a dream state. All dimensions of consciousness, so long as we’re seeing images that float along like clouds crossing the sky of mind, are dream states. Only when the dream stops (no images) do we wake up. 

Then we find our true self: A non-imagination self. When there are no images to see we become free from the bondage of attachment and only then can we truly relax into a no-mind state. The definition of our true nature is no-nature. “Identity” ordinarily means objective dressing (image stuff we produce and can see). That is why we create a self-image that we think of as our identity. But the truth is that this image, like all images, is just another dimension of dreams. At the core, there are no images and no self. This has been a fundamental teaching of Buddhism since the beginning. But what is not usually taught, except in more advanced sutras, is that there is a deeper self hidden beneath the imaginary one.

Zen's challenge is to embrace this true self (our only real identity which has no defining characteristics). This self is our pre-conscious true nature: the well-spring from which all forms of consciousness arise. The question is “how?” How do we reach that state of mind where there is no mind—no images. And the answer is actually not so difficult. Just don’t think. That, of course, is easier said than done. 

How do we “not think?” Do we think a thought called “non-thought?” That, of course, would just be replacing one thought with another thought. No, that wouldn’t work. The answer is to concentrate on something other than thought, like our breathing or to direct our awareness onto our bodies as a whole.
There are many different forms of concentration which are non-thought. In the Śūraṅgama Sūtra The Buddha asked his advanced students (enlightened Bodhisattvas) to instruct Ananda (The Buddha’s cousin) on methods. Twenty-five of them offered their prescriptions of how it is done. Each of their answers, while different, had one thing in common—turning awareness around to become aware of awareness itself. 

The pathways employed were selected from the six forms of consciousness (sight, smell, taste, touch, hearing, and mind). The particular choice was not as important as what they did after making the choice—They turned awareness around and rather than focusing on an object of consciousness they used the selected pathway to flip awareness around and see (in the case of sight) the unseen seer. They thus learned to release themselves from the bondage of attachment to objects. Just one pathway choice (of the six possibilities) worked to solve all forms of attachment. One worked for all because at the core of awareness—where our true self exists, all senses are joined together (unified).

Unless we become aware of how our mind works (which in fact is nothing more than an aggregate of images and feelings) we are all lost in our dream state, convinced that we are awake. It is very difficult to accept that our sense of reality is really an illusion—that being awake is actually being asleep. But once you do in fact awaken to your true nature you realize that being awake means meeting your true self. Until then we are all dreaming and thinking that we are awake.