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CHAPTER 17. THE AWAKENING OF BUDDHA

In one of the Upanishads there are such significant lines:

Two birds, who are inseparable and known by the same name, are sitting next to each other on the same tree. One of them eats a sweet fruit; the other looks but does not eat.

This is a beautiful metaphor for the two ends of the spectrum of selfhood; at one end we have the classical ego, at the other we have the quantum atman. In our ego, we eat the sweet (and bitter) fruit of worldly pleasures and forget about our quantum modality, which gives meaning to our existence. We exteriorize ourselves in local aspirations and become lost in the ordinary dichotomies of the world—pleasure and pain, success and failure, good and evil. We pay little attention to the possibilities available to us in our internal non-local connection, with the possible exception of rare cases of creativity and marital love. The older we get, the more we get stuck in our usual lifestyle. How to change this pattern of action and develop an individual program for adult development?

Fortunately, much empirical data has been accumulated over thousands of years, which is summarized in spiritual literature. Before we discuss these strategies, it is necessary to understand the two birds metaphor.

Many people think that the spiritual journey is like climbing a mountain, and that different spiritual paths are routes leading to the top along different sides of the mountain. With this understanding of the metaphor, there is a tendency to think hierarchically and believe that since we strive for a goal (the top of the mountain), the closer we are to it, the better we are. Once again we find ourselves caught in the higher/lower dichotomy typical of the ego level.

The opposite of this is to say, like the mystic Krishnamurti, that truth is untrodden ground. But if there is no path, then only very little guidance is possible. This is a gigantic waste of the wisdom gained from available empirical evidence.

One of the heroes of the ancient Indian epic Mahabharata, Yudhisthira, was threatened with death if he did not answer the question: “What is religion?”

It is worth remembering Yudhishthira’s answer, which saved his life: “The cards of religion are hidden in the cave,” he said. “The path to it is indicated by studying the lives of great people.”

Therefore, we will consider the paths as examples of those methods that have been used in the past and are still used today to change our identity from the level of the ego and, through the level of buddhi, towards the atman.

According to the Bhagavad Gita, there are three main paths, each of which is called
yoga, which means “union” in Sanskrit. Here is the further meaning of the two birds metaphor: the birds are already united. The goal of yoga is to realize unity. With this awareness, a change in identity begins.

The Bhagavad Gita identifies the following three yogas:

1 . Jnana yoga, the path of enlightening the intellect with reason (buddhi). (Jnana in Sanskrit means “knowledge”.)

2.  Karma yoga, the path of action in the world. ( Karma means “action” in Sanskrit.)

3. Bhakti yoga, the path of love. ( Bhakti in Sanskrit means “devotion,” but in spirit the word is very close to love.)

These three yogas are by no means unique to the Gita or the Hindu tradition. Jnana yoga is popular in Zen Buddhism. Catholicism generally favors karma yoga (the ability to bring about transformation through acts called sacraments), while Protestantism leans heavily towards the path of love. (The love of faith is answered by a love called mercy, but mercy cannot be earned by works.)/div>

Jnana yoga aims to awaken the mind buddhi through the intellect, but the trick is to bring about a change in the normal contexts in which the intellect operates. Intelligence is an artful caricature of creativity; it involves a logical shuffling of known contexts; it mixes creatively with other ego-level drives coming from conditioning and libido. How can the intellect be awakened to the comprehension of a new self-identity? If you asked a Zen master about this, he might clap his hands and ask you to hear the sound of one hand clapping. This clap is intended to frighten the “bird” from the Upanishads, lost in illusion, to make it jump – to make a quantum leap in order to realize its unity. Paradox is a very effective way to stir up a bogged down intellect. A person thinking about a paradox finds himself in a situation of “double entrapment” and must make a leap to escape it. This method is commonly used in Zen Buddhism.

There are many misconceptions about Zen koans. They often seem so pointless. One day at a party I met a man who had recently returned from Japan, where he had spent some time in a Zen monastery. He offered a koan to the crowd: What is the sound of one hand clapping? Some of those present became desperate trying to solve the riddle. After all, how can you clap with one palm? After all, you need two palms to clap, right? In the end, the guy gave in and demonstrated his decision. He slammed his hand on the table. It was the sound of one hand clapping. Everyone was delighted.

It’s easy to think of koans as this man did—as riddles to be solved intellectually, and they can be fun to explore rationally because they allow for every imaginable possibility. But such intellectual solutions do not help us lift the veil that is the ego. The function of the koan is much more subtle. If you were to offer table slapping as a solution to the above koan to a Zen master, he might say, “I’ll hit you thirty times” (or actually do it), or rate your understanding at 20%, or give some other value. equally shallow answer. He would know that you didn’t understand the koan.

Our ego is eager to find out the answer to riddles and paradoxes, not to understand their meaning. We use intellect, not intuition. Intellectualization, in itself, simply increases the inertia of the ego. It has its place and role, but at the proper moment the intellect must yield to ignorance in order for new knowledge to be possible.

A Zen story speaks very convincingly about this. A certain professor came to a Zen master wanting to learn something about Zen ideas. The master asked if the professor would like to have tea. While the master was preparing the tea, the professor began to explain everything he knew about Zen. The master prepared tea and began to pour it into the professor’s cup; The cup was filled, but the master continued to pour.

The professor cried out: “But the cup is already full!”

“Just as your mind is filled with ideas about Zen,” replied the Zen master.

Anthropologist Gregory Bateson has noted the similarities between the koan technique and the “double hold” in psychotherapy. The double grip neutralizes the ego, paralyzing it. The ego-self cannot cope with the hopeless swing from one choice to another, for example in this situation: if you say that this dog is Buddha, I will hit you. If you say that this dog is not Buddha, I will hit you, and if you don’t say anything, I will hit you.

The necessary conditions that create a double entrapment situation are: a) there are two people involved, and b) there is a connection between them that cannot be broken. That is, the situation is such that a person caught in a “double capture” temporarily renounces the autonomy of his ego. Of course, once the leap to a new context of life occurs—in Zen this event is called satori— the master’s work is done, and he lovingly releases the “double grip.”

With the help of the “double grip” catapult, the Zen master aims the thinking mind to transcend ego-identity. In contrast, in the Sufi and Christian traditions, teachers focus on the feeling mind, instructing it to love without expecting anything in return. The ego-“I” itself is no more capable of selflessly loving than it is capable of solving a koan. In both cases, teachers want to create a creative challenge for their students.

Can you imagine what it would be like to love someone just for the sake of it – not because there is an opportunity for ego reward, not because you are in love, not because you have reasons to love? This love comes from the level of Buddhi. We cannot summon it of our own free will. We can only surrender to it in creative unfolding.

There is a Chinese fable about the similarities and differences between heaven and hell. Both heaven and hell are feasts with large round tables laden with delicious food. In both places, the chopsticks are about one and a half meters long. Now about the difference. In hell, people try in vain to use chopsticks to eat themselves. In heaven, everyone simply feeds the person sitting across the table from them. Will they feed me if I feed someone else? Letting go of this ego-level uncertainty leads to the awakening of trust.

Unconditional love requires trust from the lover as much as it promotes trust on the part of the loved one. The great Chinese teacher of Taoism, Zhuang Tzu, used to tell his students the following parable: imagine that a man is sailing on a boat and suddenly sees another boat coming straight towards him. Frustrated and angry, he screams loudly and frantically waves at the helmsman of that boat to change his course. But then the boat comes closer and he sees that there is no one in it. His anger passes, and now he himself turns away from the empty boat.

What happens, asks Zhuang Tzu, if we approach others from the emptiness of the heart, without preconceived ideas? In such an open-minded situation, the selection probability pool extends to the creative dimension. The quantum wave of our mind expands and is ready to include new reactions: I am not driven to love by desire, need for protection, or image – I am free to love without any reason. It is this unconditional love that suppresses our tendency to react.

Of the three types of yoga described in the Bhagavad Gita, karma yoga is the simplest and, at the same time, the most difficult. It is also the most important for our time, for the ultimate goal of karma yoga is right action. On the path to the sublime being from whom right action emanates, significant spiritual development is necessary. The Gita suggests a gradual, three-stage approach.

In the first stage, an action should be practiced without the desire to receive its specific fruits. “Give the fruits of action to God,” says the Gita. This is what is commonly called karma yoga.

In the second stage, a person acts out of service to God. If you asked Mother Teresa where she finds the strength to serve the needy in Kolkata and around the world day after day, she would say – by serving the poor, I am serving Christ. In her work she encounters Christ every day, and that is enough for her. This is karma yoga in which love has awakened.

At the last stage, man lives as a means of right action, and not as a subject acting on an object. This is karma yoga on the threshold of liberation.

Although spiritual development occurs in stages, no method is limited to just one stage. At all stages of self-development, all three yogas are used simultaneously – action, love and wisdom. Buddhism clearly recognizes this spiral nature of the various types of yoga. If you look at the Eightfold Path of the Buddha, you will find all three paths in it. If we use them together, then one path strengthens the other. The more we act selflessly, or the more we meditate, the more we are able to love. The more we love, the more mature our wisdom becomes. The wiser we are, the more natural selfless action is for us.

Note that all three paths depend on our awareness of what is happening within and without us. This awareness is so crucial to all paths that Krishnamurti is absolutely right when he says that there is no path and recommends only awareness. All that is needed is the practice of awareness, which is meditation.

Jnana: awakening to reality

When we connected mysticism with monistic idealism (chapter 4), we introduced the concept of consciousness as the basis of being, Brahman. As we developed a cosmology of one becoming many, it became clear that consciousness-Brahman arises as a subject (atman) co-dependent with objects. Co-dependently, the knower (subject of experience), the field of knowledge (awareness) and the known (object of experience) arise. However, neither the subject nor the object has any nature of its own, no independent existence: only consciousness is real.

The problem is how to comprehend this reality. Language is no good here. Take for example: “there is only one consciousness.” Not bad, but by saying “one” we are already making a distinction, subtly implying duality. There are beautiful words of Shankara: “one without a second.” Better, but not perfect. Another approach is expressed by a joke: how many Zen masters does it take to screw in a light bulb? One and not one.

It is very difficult to express non-relative reality in relative words. In his writings, which have been called the first truly post-modern philosophy, Jacques Derrida introduced the concept of deconstruction – the destruction of all metaphysical statements about reality by destroying the very meaning of any statements. The same thing was proposed a thousand years ago by the Buddhist philosopher Nagarjuna. The immediate wisdom achieved through the careful practice of this deconstruction represents the pinnacle of jnana yoga.

Now the quantum physics of self-reference provides another way of thinking about this indefinable: complex hierarchy. Before consciousness collapses the object/awareness in space-time, nothing manifest exists. But without awareness there is no collapse, no choice to collapse. What exists before the collapse? The complex hierarchy – the endless oscillation between yes and no answers – prevents us from experiencing the original: the sound of one hand clapping. What is the experience of atman? To creatively transform intellectual understanding of idealistic metaphysics into realized truth, go deep into the question – achieve inner conviction, awaken your heart.

The mystical philosopher Franklin Merrell-Wolf said: “Reality is inversely proportional to definability.” This is the main advice in jnana yoga: the more indefinable something is, the more real it is. Follow the thought to increasingly subtle depths. Then…

The consequence is awakening, which leads to self-identity at the level of buddhi. For most people, except for a few carefully trained scientists or philosophers, jnana yoga may be too difficult. Fortunately, the other two methods (karma yoga and bhakti yoga) are more achievable by many.

Meditation

According to many philosophers, there is only one method of inner creativity – meditation (which consists of learning to pay attention, to be dispassionate, and to witness the continuous melodrama of thought patterns). To break free from the egoic level of existence, you may need to be quite specific about what is happening in your daily life, becoming aware, perhaps painfully, of how you are controlled by your attachments and habits. Or, to open up to love, you can focus on your relationships in the world. Or you might want to contemplate reality. All of these methods require a fundamental practice of mindfulness and detachment. This is what meditation teaches us.

Of all the many forms of meditation, the most common is performed in a sitting position. If you keep your attention on your own breath (with your eyes open or closed), or on the flame of a candle, or on the sound of a mantra (which is usually done with your eyes closed), or on any object, then you will be practicing concentration meditation. In this practice, whenever your attention wanders and thoughts arise—as they invariably do—you must gently and persistently bring your attention back to the object of meditation, maintaining concentration to transcend thinking, to push it from the foreground to the background of awareness.

In another form, called mindfulness meditation, the object becomes thought itself—indeed, the entire field of awareness. The principle here is that if the attention is allowed to freely observe the flow of thoughts without focusing on any particular thought, it will remain at rest in relation to the moving thought parade. This form of meditation can give you a detached, objective view of your thought patterns that, over time, will allow you to transcend thinking.

The difference between concentration meditation and awareness meditation can be understood by applying the principle of uncertainty to thinking. When we think about our thinking, either the individual thought (position) or the train of thought (impulse) becomes blurred or uncertain. As the uncertainty about a single thought becomes smaller and smaller, the uncertainty about the train of thought tends to infinity. When the connection of thoughts is lost, we become focused on the here and now.

In awareness meditation, it is the uncertainty about the connection that is made less and less, thereby causing us to lose the characteristics or content of thoughts. Since attachment comes from the content of thoughts, when the content is lost, attachment also disappears. We become impartial observers or witnesses of our thought patterns.

Meditation Research

Do meditation techniques, absurdly simple in principle, although difficult in practice, really enable people to achieve altered states of consciousness? Based on the assumption that there may be a unique physiological state corresponding to the state of meditation, brain physiologists have tried to answer this question by measuring various physiological indicators (heart rate, galvanic skin response, bioelectrical brain wave activity, etc.). ) in subjects during meditation. Although this assumption has never been confirmed, meditators exhibit such significantly distinct physiological characteristics that many researchers have recognized meditation as a fourth major state of consciousness, along with wakefulness, deep sleep, and rapid eye movement (REM) sleep associated with dreaming. The main evidence that meditation is a special state of consciousness comes from studies of brain wave patterns using electroencephalography (EEG).

The pattern of brain wave activity corresponding to the state of wakefulness is dominated by low-amplitude, high-frequency (more than 13.5 Hz) beta waves. During meditation, these waves are replaced by high-amplitude, low-frequency alpha waves (7.5-13.5 Hz). This predominance of alpha activity, corresponding to a relaxed, passive receptivity, is one of the important characteristics of the meditative state of consciousness, although it cannot in itself be considered a sign of the state of meditation. To achieve predominantly alpha wave brain activity, simply close your eyes.

Other striking characteristics of the brain wave pattern during meditation have been discovered. When people in their normal alpha state are presented with an unexpected stimulus, their brains respond by abruptly returning to beta activity. This phenomenon is called alpha blocking. Adepts of concentration meditation demonstrate the unique nature of their meditative alpha-dominant state in that they do not experience alpha blocking when presented with a sudden stimulus. Although alpha blocking occurs in people who practice mindfulness meditation, what makes their type of meditative alpha state unique is something else. When a person in a normal waking state is presented with a repeated stimulus (for example, the ticking of a clock), within a very short time he becomes so accustomed to the stimulus that his brain wave pattern no longer changes. This is called a habituation reaction. (In a normal subject, habituation occurs as early as the fourth presentation of the stimulus.) Adepts of mindfulness meditation demonstrate a unique lack of signs of habituation, both in the meditative state and while awake.

Research has shown the importance of passive visual attention (called soft gaze) in achieving the meditative alpha state. Such passivity can be achieved by simply lowering the eyes down or rolling them up, as is common in some Tibetan practices. Additionally, high alpha activity is achieved through passive attention to space. It is now generally accepted that the alpha state is beneficial because it typically marks a release from bodily and mental tension, allowing us to delve deeper into self-exploration.

Another aspect of the meditative state is the appearance of theta waves (3.5-7.5 Hz) in the EEG picture. Theta waves can be extremely important as they are also known to be associated with creative experiences.

The presence of theta waves in the pattern of brain wave activity during meditation brings to mind the fact that in children under the age of five there is a predominance of theta activity, which gradually turns into a predominance of alpha activity, corresponding to the EEG pattern of the normal waking state in adolescents, and in eventually gives way to a predominance of beta activity in adults. Since the developing consciousness of children is dominated by the quantum modality (that is, there are fewer secondary processes of awareness), we can assume that theta waves are in some way characteristic of the quantum modality of the mind-brain. If this assumption is correct, then the appearance of theta activity during both sitting meditation and creative experience may indicate a transition of consciousness to the primary process of the quantum modality.

Modern attention research provides some insight into how mantra repetition or concentration meditation works. In experiments conducted at the University of Oregon, psychologist Michael Posner and his colleagues present subjects with one letter, such as B, and then, after a period of time, a pair of letters. On some trials, subjects are asked to focus on the first letter, but on others they are not. Subjects respond “yes” or “no” depending on whether the pair is made of the same letters, such as BB, and experimenters measure the time required for this response.

From my point of view, the most interesting result is obtained when subjects are asked to focus on the first letter in those trials where the subsequent pair of letters does not correspond to the first letter: in this case, the reaction time increases noticeably. Focusing attention on the first, preparatory stimulus influences the processing of unexpected stimuli. (Conversely, in the absence of conscious attention to the first stimulus, reaction time remains unchanged.)

Thus, focusing our attention interferes with our ability to perceive objects other than the object of our attention. The quantum state of the brain evolves over time as a pool of probabilities that includes new stimuli, but focusing attention on an existing stimulus changes the probability of a response in favor of that stimulus, while the probability of collapse corresponding to a new perception becomes low. Therefore, focusing on the mantra diverts our attention from idle thoughts. Our consciousness is literally incapable of focusing on two things at the same time. As we focus our attention more and more steadily on the mantra, the external world that exists within us as an internal map begins to recede. Eventually a state is reached in which the thinking mind itself seems to cease to be perceived as a result of a kind of habituation effect: that is, although secondary awareness events still occur, they are few and far between. This occurs when primary processes can reveal themselves in their suchness.

The strategy of mindfulness meditation is also consistent with the structure of our brain. Ultimately, all the thoughts and feelings of our secondary awareness process are inevitable; we cannot fight them for any length of time simply because of the structure of our brains. In mindfulness meditation, thoughts and feelings are allowed to arise, but a distinction is made between the contents of consciousness and the subject—consciousness itself. In mystical literature this idea is conveyed by the metaphor of troubled water:

The seed of mystery is hidden in troubled waters.
How can we perceive this mystery?
Water finds peace through real estate.
How can you find peace?
Moving with the flow.

If we flow with the stream, the so-called muddy contents of consciousness – our thought patterns – settle to the bottom of the stream, to the bottom of the awareness that we witness. Using this strategy, we can witness for longer and longer periods of time because we no longer interfere with the experience of the secondary process of awareness through introspection. This allows us to experience the suchness, or impersonality of the witnessing consciousness.

Thus, in both concentration meditation and awareness meditation, a startling experience of suchness is achieved, which gives us some insight into the primary consciousness beyond the murmurs of the secondary ego. Beyond thinking and beyond the ego there is a primal consciousness. With practice, the experience of this primal consciousness can become stronger.

Freedom in Meditation: Karma Yoga

Karma yoga, or the path of action, begins with learning to act without attachment to the fruits of one’s action. The ego always wants to receive these fruits. This is why the system of rewards and punishments is so ubiquitous in all cultures. Refusing the fruits of action is heresy both from the point of view of the habit-bound ego and from the point of view of the authorities – because it makes the system of rewards and punishments ineffective.

Thus, the path of karma yoga is associated with renouncing the rewards and punishments that condition our behavior. How can we break with our conditioning? With the help of meditation, which is an integral part of karma yoga.

When you first start meditating, most likely nothing special will happen. During this initial period, it can be very difficult to maintain about twenty minutes of sitting meditation. This requires real discipline. In my own case, it took several months before I started to notice anything.

Maggie and I’s marriage began with a commitment to open communication. In less exalted language this means that in the early years we quarreled a lot. After a fight, I usually had negative thoughts regarding compromises and retreats – I’ll prove it to her and all that. One day, after about three months of meditation, I was upset because of an argument, but I noticed that I was not having the usual negative thoughts towards my wife. Something has changed.

Another time, not long after this, I had a heated argument with my ten-year-old stepson, who, like me, is very logical – and you know how annoying logic can be when tempers clash. I was angry, but suddenly I noticed that my anger was only on the surface. Internally, I enjoyed how skillfully he objected to me. I had a choice between reacting angrily or enjoying the situation, and I chose to say no to the habitual reaction. At first I made these choices mainly internally, but over time they began to manifest themselves in my external actions.

In fact, these kinds of incidents are quite common and can sustain us during the first few crucial months of practice. Most importantly, they show that meditation actually helps us see ego patterns. Some of them may even disappear.

Pat Carrington, in her book Freedom in Meditation, tells how one of her clients quit smoking: “While traveling on an airplane, he was meditating and had the impression that he heard his own voice telling him: “Free yourself from your desires!” » This very cryptic statement was followed by an experience of jubilation, and then these words: “I can … smoke a cigarette if I want – but I shouldn’t do it.”

In meditation, we try to reduce the almost one hundred percent probability of our habitual reaction to a conditioned stimulus. For example, I want to smoke. The ego has two reactions: I should smoke because… and its exact opposite – I should not smoke because… Meditation breaks the monopoly of these reactions, creating a clearing. In this gap a creative reaction is born: I decide whether to smoke or not to smoke. Only when such a thought arises creatively is a radical change possible, transforming a person from a smoker to a non-smoker. Such an event becomes possible with intense and persistent practice.

It is important not to separate meditation from the rest of your life, but to allow it to transform your actions. You will find that it is not as easy as it seems. The ego is well protected from change. Psychologist Richard Alpert (Ram Dass) recounts an experience in which he and several of his friends had just completed a group meditation. Everyone was supposed to feel satisfied when one of the meditators, intent on reconciling the incompatible, said, “Oh, that was wonderful. Now we can go have a beer and eat pizza.” It can be very difficult to break this habit of making distinctions.

After all, the idea that beer and pizza are relaxation and meditation is work is just a belief. As long as we hold these beliefs, there will be little benefit from sitting mindfulness meditation—no matter how blissful it may be. We must complement our meditation practice with careful examination of the belief systems that limit us. The idea is to, like Mahatma Gandhi, not hold beliefs that we do not fully embody in our lives. Beliefs held without putting them into practice are useless. They are dead reflections of the spectacle of life.

Once Einstein, posing for the artist Winfried Reiber, who was painting his portrait, noted that Hitler in pre-war Germany damaged himself in the eyes of the whole world when he confiscated the property that the Einstein family left when they emigrated to the United States. However, Einstein’s wife had a different point of view. She remembered with longing the personal values ​​she had in Germany and regretted that she had so few of them here. She missed “her grandmother’s silver, tablecloths, carpets, books and old Meissen porcelain.” She was attached to these things. “But they weren’t attached to you,” Einstein said sarcastically.

That’s the problem. Our thoughts, our beliefs are not tied to us. If you don’t cling to them, they will pass. Recently, the film “Gandhi” caused excitement all over the world. I hope that so many of us have embraced Gandhi’s thoughts. He liked to say: “My preaching is my life.” He lived according to his beliefs. Any belief that is not put into practice is unnecessary baggage. The purpose of meditation is to help us release baggage so we can live freely.

At one of my seminars, someone asked how I could preach the rejection of belief systems while at the same time helping to create a new idealistic science, which, in a sense, is also a belief system. This is a legitimate question, to which I answer in the spirit of Gandhi: do not make a new science a new belief system. Use it, or the philosophy of monistic idealism, or any of the teachings of the great traditions, to discard existing belief systems that only constrain your minds and hearts. If you have the opportunity, join the efforts of new science in the search for an enlightened life. Then science will be your sadhana (practice), playing the same role in your life as it plays in mine. But if science is not your field, and if you are sincerely seeking radical change, find your own path. Follow the path of your heart. Don’t pick up other people’s baggage, or their weight will make your spiritual journey burdensome.

The eureka experience! inner creativity

The poet Rabindranath Tagore wrote:
The immortal, like a diamond,
Proud not of his years,
But of the sparkling edge of his moment.

The secret of immortality is to live in the moment of the present, here and now; here and now is timeless. Like poets who see glimpses of immortality, teachers of inner creativity constantly talk about the importance of experiencing the here and now. But what exactly is meant by here and now? Most of us cannot even intellectually comprehend the meaning of this term, except as a refined abstraction—let alone experience a state of present-centeredness.

We cannot voluntarily live in the here and now, but we can cultivate the conditions that allow such a life to arise. We can enter into it through meditative practice – sitting and repeating a mantra or practicing impartial awareness meditation. A mantra can transport us into the here and now, depriving our senses of all other stimuli other than itself, and allowing us to establish a new relationship with reality.

When there is complete absorption in the object of meditation, staying here and now is called samadhi. The subject becomes only implied. In higher samadhis, penetration into the essence of the object occurs, and, ultimately, the object is seen in its suchness, in its identity with all consciousness. This is also called the experience of no-self (anatta) because there is no separate self anywhere. In Zen Buddhism this is called satori with a living awareness of the suchness (tathata) of an object. Some people call this gnosis, or enlightenment. The state of samadhi or satori is accompanied by a feeling of deep joy.

A somewhat different experience of timelessness occurs when a state of perfect witnessing is achieved through meditation. Objects also arise in awareness, but the witness remains completely unattached, abstaining from judgment. The consequence of this experience is the same effect of deep joy. (Of course; the creative power of experience only emerges when we become, over time, able to bring the attitude of witnessing into everyday life.)

The joy of meditative experiences is the original joy of consciousness in its pure form. According to Indian philosophy, Brahman, the basis of existence, manifests as sat-chit-ananda, where cam means existence, chit means consciousness, and ananda means joy (or bliss). Everything that appears in spacetime is cam. Things exist. By contrast, self-awareness is of a very special nature. It needs a brain-mind to be manifested. Joy is even more special. Only after ego development has been completed can a person realize that he is experiencing something much greater than the individual self. This realization brings about joy—the joy of beginning to understand who we really are.

In some traditions this “eureka” experience of inner creativity is called enlightenment. This name is somewhat accurate. In our ego we are usually identified with our brain-mind. In samadhi we learn that our identity is the light of consciousness that fills us and all that exists. The ego has no essence.

Unfortunately, the term “enlightenment” also creates a lot of confusion. Many people think of the experience of enlightenment as an achievement: I am now enlightened. Although this experience opens the way for a change in self-identity, ego-level tendencies persist and the achievement orientation may prevent complete transformation.

But the experience itself is only the threshold of this transformative potential. A creative act is not complete without its result, and inner creativity is no exception. After the experience of samadhi or satori, or perfect witnessing, disciplined practice is still required to carry the awakening of buddhi into action in the world.

Awakening Love: Bhakti Yoga

In the Bhagavad Gita, Krishna tells Arjuna a very instructive thing. “Arjuna,” he says, “I will reveal to you the secret of all secrets, the most direct path to the awakening of Buddhi. It consists in seeing Brahman in everyone and in everyone (in this context Brahman means “God”), and serving it devotedly. There is no need to struggle with subtle forms of discursive wisdom. There is no need to practice action without the fruits of action. Even formal meditation is not necessary. Just love God and serve God in everyone.”

Of course, there are some subtleties here too. What does it mean to love God? Many people get this wrong. They believe that this means ritual worship of some image or the very idea of ​​​​God.

Idealistic literature mentions five ways to love God; they are all related to the human form:

1. Love God through self-love.

2. Loving God through service.

3. Loving God through friendship.

4. Loving God through the mother-child relationship.

5. Loving God through erotic relationships.

This list does not exhaust all possibilities. There are other, very realistic methods. For example, Francis of Assisi loved God through his love of nature, a practice forgotten in modern Christianity but lived on in American Indian traditions. Consider what the impact of reviving this practice would be on environmental protection.

In the method of love, it is necessary, firstly, to try to avoid the predominance of locality in our relations with non-local consciousness. Of course, in any human relationship locality prevails. We communicate through sight, hearing, smell, touch, and taste—the common modalities of experience. But they are not only means of communication. If this were the case, it is doubtful that we could really communicate with each other meaningfully. Therefore, we practice devotion to the spirit of relationships, abandoning calculation in our interactions with other people.

Secondly, as mentioned earlier, for each of us the ego becomes a solipsistic universe, a locked prison cell in which only I and my applications are real. Others have to reckon with me, my culture, my race, etc. in order to be accepted in my universe. Developing a selfless loving relationship is one way (perhaps the most direct) of overcoming ego solipsism.

The ego loves itself so much that it wants to be immortal. In the West, this thirst for immortality is expressed in the desire for power and glory; in the East it led to the idea of ​​reincarnation of the individual soul. Is it possible to transform this love of ego into love of atman—the inner quantum self? Man must discover another immortality for himself. Through love and patient forgiveness of oneself and others, one focuses on the unchanging aspect of oneself as a way of transcending the transitory ego. In Sanskrit this method is called santa, which means “passive”. It was widespread in many contemplative Christian communities.

The other four ways on the list above involve being actively involved in your relationships with others. Altruistic service to others, called seva in Sanskrit, comes naturally to many people; This fact puzzles proponents of the “selfish gene” idea, who believe that altruism is possible only between people who have a common genetic heritage. This method was the practice of Mother Teresa, who expressed her love for Christ by serving people – and it was a beautiful expression. To serve one must sacrifice one’s own egoistic needs and desires, and this is a direct insult to the solipsism of the ego. The free outpouring of love marks the awakening of compassion—and compassion is an integral part of Soto Zen practice.

In America, under the influence of the myth of the value of rugged individualism and the market economic system of relations, we have almost lost the institution of male friendship. In the market model, a person evaluates relationships through cost-benefit analysis. Fortunately, the tendency to apply such pragmatic criteria to friendship is beginning to wane, as perhaps evidenced by the popularity of poet Robert Bly’s recent work on male bonds. Another major challenge to friendship is the requirement for efficiency. Friendship is not always effective. It often involves self-sacrifice, abandoning the limitations of efficiency and time, and emerging from the cocoon of the ego. American women have traditionally been less bound by the market economic model of relationships. However, this trend is now growing as more women work in the market system, trying to divide their time and energy to meet the demands of both careers and homes. If women can resist this trend, they can bring their capacity for committed friendship into the market system and teach men how to humanize their economic relationships and be friends again.

Relationships between a man and a woman

Because of biological differences, intimacy is a unique test in the relationship between a man and a woman, and has great potency in breaking through ego boundaries.

A close relationship with a person of the same sex is in a certain sense easier due to the common experience shared by all men or all women. But men and women, subject to different biological and social conditioning, practically belong to different cultures. From the point of view of Jung’s archetypes (anima – the female experience repressed in the man, and animus – the masculine experience repressed in the woman), the consequence of the demands of form is repression, which causes a deep contradiction in our ability to communicate with the opposite sex.

There is a mystical story in Plato’s Symposium. Humans were originally bisexual creatures with two sets of arms, legs, and genitals. But the power of these bisexual creatures was so great that the gods were afraid that they would usurp the privileges of heaven. Therefore, Zeus divided the creatures in two. Since then, separated people have been forever searching for their missing halves. This story metaphorically expresses the unconscious urge we have to make the unconscious anima or animus archetypes conscious so that we can be whole. But the unconscious drive is not only instinctive – it also represents the eros of the personal unconscious that Freud wrote about. Eros enhances the creative ability that comes from the collective unconscious.

Somewhere along the path of intimacy between two committed people, the anima in the man and the animus in the woman awaken, and as a result, it becomes possible for both of them to move to the level of buddhi. Think about it. The reason for ego solipsism is that, in reality, there is no local way for a person to put himself in the place of someone else. (Read Thomas Nigel’s article “What’s It Like to Be a Bat ?”) One is therefore inclined to think that one’s personal universe is universally representative. The experience of anima and animus is a truly non-local experience, and suddenly otherness makes sense – the other becomes a human being like me. His or her individual experiences and perspectives become as valid as mine. By discovering this otherness, we discover unconditional love – love that can take us to the level of existence in the state of buddhi.

By breaking out of the cocoon of our solipsism-ego with even one person, we become potentially capable of loving all others. It’s like expanding your family. That is why the Sanskrit proverb says that “to the liberated, the whole world is family.”

When the whole world becomes a family, we begin to see the true nature of immanent consciousness. We love people for who they are. We don’t need them to conform to our patterns or cultures. Instead, we respect them and admire the breadth and extent of their diversity. We begin to see what Hindus call lila – divine play.

The flute of inner time plays
whether we hear it or not.
Its coming sound is what we
call “love.”
When love reaches its extreme limit,
it reaches wisdom.
How fragrant is that knowledge!
It permeates our dense bodies,
it passes through walls –
Its interweaving of notes is as if
millions of suns were lined up inside.
There is truth in this melody.

The book “The Self-Aware Universe. How consciousness creates the material world.” Amit Goswami

Contents

PREFACE
PART I. The Union of Science and Spirituality
CHAPTER 1. THE CHAPTER AND THE BRIDGE
CHAPTER 2. OLD PHYSICS AND ITS PHILOSOPHICAL HERITAGE
CHAPTER 3. QUANTUM PHYSICS AND THE DEATH OF MATERIAL REALISM
CHAPTER 4. THE PHILOSOPHY OF MONISTIC IDEALISM
PART II. IDEALISM AND THE RESOLUTION OF QUANTUM PARADOXES
CHAPTER 5. OBJECTS IN TWO PLACES AT THE SAME TIME AND EFFECTS THAT PRECEDE THEIR CAUSES
CHAPTER 6. THE NINE LIVES OF SCHRODINGER’S CAT
CHAPTER 7. I CHOOSE WITH THEREFORE, I AM
CHAPTER 8. THE EINSTEIN-PODOLSKY-ROSEN PARADOX
CHAPTER 9. RECONCILIATION OF REALISM AND IDEALISM
PART III. SELF-REFERENCE: HOW ONE BECOMES MANY
CHAPTER 10. EXPLORING THE MIND-BODY PROBLEM
CHAPTER 11. IN SEARCH OF THE QUANTUM MIND
CHAPTER 12. PARADOXES AND COMPLEX HIERARCHIES
CHAPTER 13. “I” OF CONSCIOUSNESS
CHAPTER 14. UNIFICATION OF PSYCHOLOGIES
PART IV . RETURN OF CHARM
CHAPTER 15. WAR AND PEACE
CHAPTER 16. EXTERNAL AND INTERNAL CREATIVITY
CHAPTER 17. THE AWAKENING OF BUDDHA
CHAPTER 18. IDEALISMAL THEORY OF ETHICS
CHAPTER 19. SPIRITUAL JOY
GLOBAR OF TERMS