Path: utzoo!utgpu!news-server.csri.toronto.edu!cs.utexas.edu!tut.cis.ohio-state.edu!VAX1.CC.UAKRON.EDU!mcs.kent.edu!usenet.ins.cwru.edu!eagle!data.nas.nasa.gov!news From: david@star2.cm.utexas.edu (David Sigeti) Newsgroups: soc.religion.eastern Subject: Re: Buddhism and the reality of the phenomenal world (was Re: bloody Buddhists!) Message-ID: <1990Dec23.005751.22831@nas.nasa.gov> Date: 23 Dec 90 00:57:51 GMT References: <1990Dec20.012217.6422@nas.nasa.gov> <1990Dec21.224123.27840@noose.ecn.purdue.edu> <1990Dec22.061258.3644@noose.ecn.purdue.edu> Sender: news@nas.nasa.gov Followup-To: talk.religion.misc,soc.religion.eastern Organization: University of Texas at Austin Lines: 208 Approved: prabhu@amelia.nas.nasa.gov In article <1990Dec22.061258.3644@noose.ecn.purdue.edu> muttiah@stable.ecn.purdue.edu (Ranjan S Muttiah) writes: In article david@star2.cm.utexas.edu (David Sigeti) writes: >[My comments deleted as not relevant to Ranjan's question] Another question that just croped is (and this is what I was trying to hit at) how one "knows" that one has reached nirvana or buddhahood or whatever ? Is it by general agreement and consent by other fellow meditators ? Traditionally, one presents one's realization to a recognized Buddhist teacher, someone who has received "dharma transmission" in some line of teachers that is believed to go back to the Buddha, and accepts her judgement. Sometimes, a teacher may withhold judgement because she feels that she needs to get a better idea of the student's level of realization. Or she may be concerned that, even though the student has had a genuine and deep realization, he may be in danger of getting some inflated sense of his own importance and abilities. This really does happen and a lot of the stories of Zen masters treating their students to all sorts of abuse involve exactly this problem (on the students' part). I suspect that people who decide entirely on their own that they are "enlightened" are in severe danger of falling into this problem in some of its most hideous forms. I think that this is probably particularly likely to be true when the person has very little zazen behind them. The discipline of meditation really can help one to see into the traps of egotism. I don't mean to imply that the various experiences and realizations that one has in the course of practice can't be clear or that one doesn't know what one has experienced. The problem is really how one integrates one's experiences and realizations into one's life. Here, a teacher or even just a fellow student can be a great help in avoiding all sorts of traps and mistakes. >In the course of this observation, most people come to see that >there is really nothing in the body/mind process that corresponds >to a "self" or "ego". Certainly, the mind in particular is a >wondrously complex process, full of sensations, perceptions, >emotions, and thoughts changing constantly and at almost dizzying >speed. But, when observed closely and carefully, it really seems >to be pretty impersonal -- maybe almost mechanical. Certainly, >it is difficult to see what in it would constitute a "self". > >There is really nothing frightening about this realization. In >fact, most people find it quite liberating. This is part of why >I presented my own experience in almost frivolous terms -- "Good >Heavens, I really am *not* what I thought I was." (I am speaking >here of an early stage of the practice. Later on there are more >likely to be problems.) And this is the part that I don't understand. When you come to this realization and find that you weren't what you were, are you also supposed to realize that *the method* by which you arrived at the observation isn't also what you thought it was supposed to be ? And if so would you find it to be false ? [That was the point of my pervious post]. Three or four years ago, I might simply have answered, "No. The method is not faulty; it is just that, by careful observation, one has seen that a certain impression that one had had was mistaken." I still think that this is true on a certain ordinary level. In one sense, one has just made a simple observation about the operation of one's own mind. As I said earlier, David Hume became one of the most important figures in Enlightenment (European, not Buddhist) philosophy on the basis of this simple observation. I also should say that this simple observation has probably been the most helpful single thing that I have gotten out of Buddhism, in terms of helping me in my ordinary life. Mind you, I don't think that it would have been terribly helpful if I had gotten this far at too early a point in my practice -- I think that the effort that I had to make in meditation was critical to the fact that the observation was actually helpful to me. Nevertheless, this kind of observation seems to sum up a lot of what I got out of Zen meditation in the earlier years of my practice. As I said in my posting, though, this kind of simple observation is just the beginning of practice. It certainly does *not* correspond to even the shallowest "kensho" (often translated as "enlightenment" but more properly "awakening"). If one continues to pursue the practice of closely observing the body/mind, a kind of contradiction *does* emerge and I think that you have intuited something of its nature. It has to do with the fact that the mind being observed is precisely the mind doing the observing. This, of course, is a problem of self-reference (as you have intuited) but on the level of direct observation, rather than on the level of intellection or conceptualization (as in mathematics). Because the problem occurs on the level of direct observation, it was, for me, very disturbing. It "got me where I live," as they say. I found myself getting into a kind of infinite regression -- the mind observing the mind observing the mind observing the mind(...). The image that comes to me when I think of this process is of a pair of nearly parallel mirrors (as you often find in dressing rooms in clothing stores) and the series of images of oneself and the room that seems to stretch off into infinity. As I said, I found this very disturbing. It left me terribly perplexed. It seemed to me to imply some fundamental question but -- practicing a simple mindfulness meditation as I was -- I found it impossible to come to grips with this question or even to get any sense of it at all. This was when I took up a "koan", one of the strange stories or sayings that Zen Buddhists sometimes use as objects for meditation. It was precisely in order to focus this perplexity into a profound questioning that koan meditation was invented by the Chinese Zen teachers during the Song dynasty. The koan that I took up was "What is this?" which can also be phrased as "What is this, right here?" or "What is this very mind?" or even just "What?" This koan allowed me to focus my perplexity into a deep process of questioning, a questioning that constantly questions the questioner itself. The questioning is not conceptual -- it is observational. It is not like asking oneself intellectually "I wonder if I am really my train of thoughts." It is more like "Am I this?" "No, that's not it. What about that over there?" "No, not that. What about this here?" It's not really frantic like this -- I just want to give the sense that the questioning is observational rather than conceptual. Of course, this little monologue doesn't involve any questioning of the questioner either so please don't take it too seriously. I don't want to try to say too much about how one "solves" such a question. I certainly don't think that I have solved "What is this?" The one thing that I think I should mention is that I have found that, in questioning the questioner, it is impossible to operate entirely on an observational level. One has to go deeper -- "closer to the hardware" in computerese. One has to begin dealing with the process of observation on an *affective* level. In particular, one has to begin dealing with the problem of *grasping*. One quickly finds that the mental process involves a kind of continual and very rapid grasping at the level of perception. But, in order to fully see into this mental process of grasping, one has to give up the grasping involved in the process that is observing the mind. Sorry about the twisted syntax -- it really *is* like the series of images in a pair of mirrors. The upshot is that the two processes, grasping and observation, are all tangled up with each other in such a way that one has to give up grasping in order to see into the mental process and one has to see into the mental process in order to give up grasping. In order to "see" one has to "let go" and in order to "let go" one has to "see". I think that this is why "enlightenment" has to be "sudden". If one is to really "solve" the problem, one has to simultaneously see into the grasping involved in one's own mental processes and give up the grasping involved in the process of seeing itself. One without the other just won't do the trick. And doing both at once is only going to happen at a single moment, a "set of co-dimension 1 in time" as a mathematician would say. I realize that all this is nowhere near as simple and straightforward as the simple process of observation that I discussed in my previous posting. I have tried to give as down- to-earth an account as I can. In any case, I doubt that anyone gets to a point like this until they have at least several years of practice behind them. It sure took me long enough! >That said, I am going to imitate him after my fashion and ask you >where *you* are coming from. It would really help me to >understand your postings if I had a better idea of what *you* >think about this stuff. Are you and atheist, an agnostic, a >Hindu, a member of another religion? I have tried to be as open >as I can be about what I believe. How about you? Here's what I think: Life is miserable; life is a challenge; . People sometimes refuse to take responsibilities, assuming that one isn't control of what one does (remember all those religious wars ?). Some people find a way out of this by taking on a religion. Don't get me wrong, some people do need religion, but the basis for doing so should be made evident. In my case, I learn to take charge of whatever it is that I decide to think and do; I try to make things as self evident to myself as possible. This strikes me as an excellent basis for approaching life, or for starting Zen practice. Certainly, Zen should never be a drug that we use to avoid seeing the pain and suffering of life. The only admonition that I would add is that, just as the pain and suffering is not yours alone, even so your "taking charge of whatever it is that you decide to do," and your "making things as self evident to yourself as possible," should not be for yourself alone. Several times each day, Zen monks take the "Four Bodhisattvas' Vows". The first one is "Although the beings are numberless, I vow to save them all." -- David Sigeti david@star2.cm.utexas.edu cmhl265@hermes.chpc.utexas.edu