Welcome to The Lethargist Newsletter, where you will find my irreverent perspectives on religion, metaphysics, philosophy, psychology, science, and spirituality.
The human brain is predisposed to create coherent narratives about its experiences and integrate them into the mental construct of one’s selfhood. Empirical evidence strongly suggests that our sense of self does not exist as a fixed, intrinsic essence. In my previous Post, I explored the “Grand Illusion” of being a separate self that stands apart from one's experiences.
If one carefully examines the nature of subjective experience and discards all illusory concepts, what remains is only consciousness and its inseparable contents. All the things that we can perceive and conceive are, at their very essence, simply mental constructs, including our sense of self. However, for most people, recognizing that reality remains a challenge.
The sense of self, often equated with our personal identity and invested with our ego, is created from our memories, but research shows that our memory is dynamic and continually reconstructed, as well as being extremely fallible. That evidence includes:
The brain engages in distributed processing, with no central locus for a sense of self in which to reside.
In split-brain studies, each hemisphere can have its own perceptions, desires, and decisions.
Researchers can experimentally manipulate a subject’s sense of body ownership and their personal identity.
Many experiments demonstrate that our decisions and perceptions are not simply objective reflections of reality, but rather active constructions shaped by a variety of influences.
Subjective experiences of selflessness can occur in some neurological disorders such as Cotard’s syndrome, or with amnesia following damage to the hippocampus region of the brain.
Experiments by Libet, Soon, and Haynes show the brain engaging in subconscious activity many milliseconds before we become consciously aware of making a decision.
Reduced activity in the brain's “default mode network” during deep meditation correlates with a diminished sense of self.
Beyond Philosophy
There are two disparate philosophical perspectives regarding selfhood; that of René Descartes, summed up by his dictum, “I think, therefore I am.” Descartes embraced the notion of being a separate, substantial, autonomous “self” who is the thinker of their thoughts and the instigator of their actions. In contrast, David Hume posited a sense of self that is simply a collection of perceptions stitched together by ideas, without the involvement of a separate thinker.
There is, however, an experiential realm beyond dualistic, subject-object relationships, such as a thinker and their thoughts, in which mystics have been able to acquire the non-conceptual perspective of pure awareness. Access to this inner realm involves reawakening one’s so-called “natural mind,” a state of consciousness that existed before we acquired language and its inherent linearity and duality, which normally confines our rational mind.
Meditation
Throughout human history, and in many different cultures around the world, there have emerged meditative traditions intended to end those limitations and the attendant confusion and suffering that often results. What the different traditions all have in common is a form of introspection that is a deliberate and often formal method of turning one's attention inward.
What meditative traditions also have in common are religious and cultural trappings that make them appear unique, despite the fact that the basic technology involved is pretty much the same. A more secular and culture-independent approach to focusing one’s attention in the present moment, either inward or outward, is known as “mindfulness.” It is explored here:
Zen
Perhaps the least religious of historical meditative traditions is the offshoot of Buddhism known as Zen. In addition to the practice of sitting meditation called zazen, seekers of a kind of wisdom that goes beyond the boundaries of the rational mind are presented with intellectual challenges and mind-blowing puzzles in the form of koans.
Zen koans confront conventional thinking, break down conceptual barriers, and guide practitioners toward direct, non-verbal (ie. non-dualistic) insights, leading to an awakened state called satori. In order to help the student of Zen transcend habitual binary thinking, koans deliberately boggle the mind and can provoke the experience of kensho, or brief glimpses of emptiness.
Kensho is a momentary insight, more like a “mini-satori,” while satori is a more profound and sustained awakening. Some koans provide the impetus for contemplation of the self/non-self duality. Others direct the student to focus their attention only on what is here and now.
In practical terms, meditation and koans encourage an ongoing inquiry into the essential nature of the self, while simultaneously letting go of any concepts about who we are. Questions such as “Who are you?” can provoke inner explorations that result in the experiencing of oneself as formless and timeless, accompanied by an equanimity in the present moment, regardless of circumstances.
When we loosen our grasp on concepts, we become open to an entirely new, non-conceptual realm of experiences. Koans present riddles that aren't meant to be solved intellectually. When one enters meditation, and the koan is deeply experienced, it is then possible, even if only briefly, to transcend one’s conventional sense of self.
A modern, koan-like question is, “If a tree falls in the forest and nobody is around to hear, does it make a sound?” From a Zen perspective, this question invites us to examine the deeper nature of reality, our perceptions, and the interconnectedness of experiences.
Is sound an inherent property of the tree and the air, or does it exist only when perceived by an ear and interpreted by a mind? Without a listener, does sound truly arise? Is the sound of the tree falling independent, or does it exist only in relationship with a perceiver? If you listen deeply to the present moment, what do you hear?
Zen transcends dualities such as sound versus silence, or presence versus absence. Meditation and koans facilitate a direct experience of unity in which the falling tree (object) and the listener (subject) are not separate entities, but are rather interconnected within a greater whole. Ultimately, one will experience the utter futility of trying to conceptualize such questions. When the thinking mind gives up, that’s when satori occurs.
Find the Thinker
When we meditate, whether it's zazen or any other tradition, we often begin by paying attention to the breath. The act of breathing simply happens spontaneously. We can speed it up or slow it down, but if we relax and let it proceed on its own, it just happens in its own time and at its own pace.
It isn't long before we'll notice that the attention we've been focusing on breathing has become distracted by thoughts, which continually arise and fade away spontaneously. It then becomes a bit of a struggle to maintain an awareness of breathing, despite the incessant intrusion of thoughts.
At this point in your meditation, instead of trying to ignore them, see if you can follow a single thought back to its source, presumably the thinker. Let me know what you discover.