March 30, 2012
Karuna Cayton Karuna Cayton speaks with us about his new book, The Misleading Mind: How We Create Our Own Problems and How Buddhist Psychology Can Help Us Solve Them. East meets West. In our global society, that interaction is happening more and more, and the lines between the two are no longer so straight and …
Click to buy The Misleading Mind from Wisdom Books
Zen poet Ryokan (1758 – 1831)
Source: Stevens J., (trans), One Robe, One Bowl, 2006 (2nd ed), Weatherhill
Click here to buy this book from Wisdom Books
For those who aren’t familiar with this term, i have understood it ,”dissolution of the self” (DoS) , to refer to the ultimate buddhist experience, Awakening or Enlightenment or if you prefer, Bodhi in sanskrit. (On reading up on “Bodhi” on wiki just now, i see it is particular to the Mahayana outlook which i hadn’t realised and an article worth reading) What DoS means is when the boundaries between you and everything else falls away or dissolves and you lose your sense of separateness from the rest of the world. This i think is the core idea behind Thich Nhat Hanh’s Interbeing approach. My own zen teacher teaches that it as physical as it is psychological. And this is the reality that we are trying to see when we are told to see reality as it is according to the buddha’s teaching and through meditation practice. It is ultimately of course an experience one arrives at in meditation and not a mere matter of intellectual understanding.
Too soon after i first came across this term – the dissolution of the self – i forgot it and couldn’t find the reference again. Since then i’ve been confounded by a mistaken recollection of it as being “dissociation” – which of course is something else completely. In that first reference, from a book called Mind by Rita ?, a scientific journalist, she suggested that the enlightenment experience is one of self-induced dissolution of the self. And i think she stated, rather than implied, that it was in contrast to a naturally occurring event as a result of a mental breakdown or mental fault. That is to say, i think she suggested that it could occur without self-inducement also. But i’d like clarification on that if anyone knows… This little discovery really piqued my interest and curiosity but with forgetting what the original words were, i’ve been swimming in pea soup ever since with regard to my quest for information. If the term refers only to a self-induced mental event, then some buddhists could argue that it is indeed relevant. But my question is, if it can be either self-induced through meditation, but also through drugs, or naturally occurring as a result of stressful psychological conditions, how relevant is it?
Tonight, i’ve been listening to Susan Blackmore’s podcast with Ted Meissner on the Secular Buddhist Assocation website. To my great delight, she mentioned this term and described it and i knew this was the term i had been looking for. During this excellent podcast, Blackmore said that she had had this experience herself (not the out of body experience at the beginning of the talk), though i can’t now remember what induced it – drugs maybe but i can’t remember already – Duh! (im having trouble finding that talk to bring you a link but i might get it later.) I don’t think she was seeking it though she she does practice zazen, but interesting does not practice buddhism per se.
Again, my question is, if this experience can result from not only meditation experiences but also drugs or psychological stress or who knows what, is it really that meaningful after all. Is it really the reality the buddha wanted us to see. I suppose one might argue that if the experience spurs you on to behaving in a more highly moral way, then that’s a good thing. Otherwise, if its significance for reality is nothing more than a weird neurological experience in the brain, then there is no reason to meditate for very long periods. Going on silent retreat for 3 years, 3 months, and 3 days would be extremely pointless to say the least. Even going on silent retreat for 3 months might be questionable. Far better would be merely a twice daily practice only of say, hm, 30 minutes to one hour, or maybe even, as Muhammad told his follows – five shorter periods a day, say five times 15 minutes?
For some time now since reading The Prophet by Karen Armstrong, i have thought that Mohummad was onto something when he asked his people to pray this frequently. (I particularly liked this part of the book) The idea behind it is to help remind the faithful of their duty and keep them behaving at their best. And i think that was a very good idea. I would think that this would translate very well into a mindfulness practice as well. That said, perhaps at least one session of one hour per day is worth while too. Anyway, i’m open to discussion and trials to see what would be thought the most ideal – if anyone wants to test it all out, and then it might vary significantly from person to person. I should probably do it myself but i struggle enough as it is to meditate – and that’s why i’m going on a long retreat later this year all things going according to plan.
So I would be happy to discuss and hear your thoughts on this idea of the enlightenment experience – the dissolution of the self – what relevance it has in practice if its only an unusual mental blip. If you think this may be so, how do you think this affects meditation practice? Would you care to tease that out? Are there any other implications for practice.
It would certainly suggest that the buddha and all those indian sramanas and yogis were barking up the wrong tree – but perhaps not altogether without purpose. What say ye on that point?
Perhaps this is the far more important arguement that we should be having with the traditions than the one about rebirth and karma. And it might serve to separate the real value in buddhist practice from the not so valuable. I mean, people often like to say jhana experiences are not important but it seems to me that this DoS experience is just another one of those. Its already how i think of memories of past life experiences. Perhaps rarer than the others or perhaps its just that DoS seems to suggest a higher moral meaning than the others.
I hope this is all clear enough. Have any of you raked over this ground a lot already? Have you all? Am i the only one who doesn’t know this stuff already?
This video shows a dialogue between Stephen Batchelor and Bhante Sujato about the practice of Buddhism and its relevance at the dawn of the new millennium. Moderated by Tina Ng. Of course much of the discussion is about the topic of Rebirth . . .
Click here to view
This idea takes a little leap from one of Alain de Botton’s ideas in his book Religion for Atheists. His ideas can be found starting p268 Temple for the Genius Loci. I don’t want to summarise his description of the historical sources of this notion but instead direct you straight his idea for shrines and temples and associated stuff for sale. These places are not to worship but to find a quiet place to nurture different parts of one self in reflection or meditation. I urge you to read these pages because they are so delighful in his telling of the original notion of genius locii to his ideas of how we can revive them today. On page 275 he finishes “the point is only to argue that we should revive and continue the underlying aims of religious architecture, by expressing these through secular temples designed to promote important emotions and abstract themes, rather than through sacred shrines dedicated to embodied deities.”
“No less than the church spires in the skyscapes of medieval Christian towns, these temples would function as reminders of our hopes. They would vary in terms of their style, their dimensions and forms – they could range from huts to hangars, they could be made from recycled tyres or gold tiles, they could hang from the sides of office buildings or be buried in illuminated grottoes under the streets -but they would all be connected through the ancient aspiration of sacred architecture: to place us for a time in a thoughtfully structured 3-dimensional space in order to educate and rebalance our souls.”
My idea is that we could prevail upon local councils/governments and anyone else with the money or an existing building to build or make available secular meditation spaces in public parks and other quiet locations. They could be in the middle of cities as well as far from cities, in national parks, at beaches and rivers and on mountain tops, literally anywhere. The more the better. When they are located in the cities and towns, it could be suggested that meditation teachers could take free guided meditation sessions for the public on a more or less ad hoc basis where anyone can join in. And they should also be able to give talks. In fact i would say that they could also be used as soapboxes at designated times when anyone wanting to promote any idea could turn up and have a go. Between such times, people could go and sit quietly on their own and meditate. They do not need to so large as to accommodate a crowd. People can gather outside it. Even if they were all only big enough for one person to sit, it would be fine. Or a maximum of say 5 people, the size of a rotunda.
I myself would like to see artists and architects invovled in the projects so we don’t end up with uninspired and commercial looking structures, and I would aim for uniqueness of design in every single one. And then there could be a register online with addresses and photos of all the meditation spaces so that travellers can find them.
In his version, de Botton notes how on approaching temples, people first visit stalls to buy bits and things for giving as gifts to the temple and then on leaving, buy souveneirs. This practice lives on exactly as described by de Botton in india at hindu temples. And i think it happens at buddhist temples through out asia also. I’ve seen it in Bangkok. I myself like the idea of buddhist centres selling souvenirs that reflect buddhist values as a way for secular buddhist centres to raise funds in order to keep the dharma free. De Botton’s idea is that “inside [the temples or shrines] we could desposit wax versions of our anxieties and immaturities, attempting thereby to formalise the purpose of our trip – while outside talented artists would sell inspiring tokens of the transformative powers of their settings.
I’m not sure i’d be one to buy a wax statue to deposit anywhere but some people might go for that. Or there might be a tiny little thing that one could leave behind as a record of one’s having been there. I’m reminded of a pottery in turkey i once visited where the owner would take a snip of hair of all his visitors and hang it from the ceiling of his cave. There are 1000s of samples. Some tiny momento of this nature would be a lovely idea to draw people to a certain spot for spiritual activity. I don’t know if i’d recommend leaving hair. I haven’t quite thought what would be a wonderful thing to leave behind. But if this sort of idea were to be taken up, a space would also have to be created where these things could be attached, displayed and preserved.
In some ways these ideas seem totally antipathetic to what the buddha was about – he never left a trace of himself on his journeys, nor were his monks encouraged to do such things. But for me, in the spirit of what Alain de Botton is getting at, these are a to promote the dharma, and to promote a less commercial way of spirituality, personal growth, personal healing and all the values that these reflect. They’d be separate from any organised religion. They would be secular and in secular spaces. I think they could have the effect of drawing people to buddhism and that i think would be a good thing. Alternatively, they could even include a nod to all the religions and represent interfaith practices amongst which secular buddhism would be one.
If it were possible to practice buddhism today as the buddha did in the past, as a complete renunciate, living a homeless life, I might not be so keen on the above. But we are sedentary species these days and we like our comforts and it all costs money. If it were possible for buddhist teachers to be roaming and homeless giving their dharma freely in exchange for a meal and maybe even a bed for the night, that would be lovely. I wish it could still be possible. And maybe there’s a way to explore that idea too. Have you heard of couchsurfing (for backpackers) and warmshowers (for touring cyclists) where travellers spend a night or two in the homes of locals? They find their hosts through the websites. A website could be set up to provide hospitality for travelling dharma teachers, and homeless travelling buddhists. Such an option might enable people to actually take up this way of life. People like you and i list our home as a place where visitors of this kind would be welcome. The host negotiates the conditions with the prospective guest online.
In the comment thread on rebirth and Thanissaro, Andrea has raised some important points that I think need addressing. They are not just about rebirth, but about our whole attitude to philosophical discussion in relation to secular Buddhism. Andrea wrote
Robert says: “What I mean is that we won’t be able to manage to avoid engaging in debates about metaphysical beliefs in Buddhist tradition just by ignoring the subject. Such metaphysical assumptions will affect us anyway..”
Why not? How will they affect us? Why can’t we just state our position of disbelief and let it go? Why must we keep engaging with this debate instead of focussing on the practice. Why must there continue to be so much discussion about the metaphysics and almost none about the practice and practical matters of starting up secular buddhism.
I think that philosophical discussion is not something separate from spiritual practice, but an important part of it. I am not ceasing to discuss “practical matters” when I discuss philosophy. There are several interlinked points I need to make here about the importance of philosophy for practice of the Middle Way. To try and make these clear I will put them under five headers:
1. Neutrality of view is not an option
If we don’t express a view, we don’t thereby cease to have one. Beliefs can have implicit or explicit forms. Every single action we take requires beliefs about what is the case and/or what values we should apply to the situation, even if we don’t explicitly articulate those beliefs or reflect on them. For example, my action in making a cup of tea reflects my implicit beliefs that tea is safe and good to drink, that drinking tea would be pleasant and that such pleasure is good for me at this point. Obviously we don’t reflect on all our beliefs all the time, but discussing them and whether they are justified is an important way of gaining awareness of the conditions we work in. If we don’t do this, we are implicitly accepting the status quo – rather as people who claim not to be political tend to be conservative by default.
Philosophy is just systematic reflection on the justification for our beliefs, and everyone who tries to engage in spiritual practice is to some extent a philosopher, like it or not. You can just engage in the philosophical side of practice with more or less attention, just as you can with the meditational side of practice. Personally I’m better at the philosophical side of practice, but I don’t deny the importance of working at meditation, difficult as I find it. I think those who find the philosophical side more difficult also need to acknowledge that it is a necessary part of a balanced practice.
2. Agnosticism takes work
If we are trying to follow the Middle Way in avoiding metaphysical beliefs, this involves a demanding practice of letting go. Letting go of metaphysics involves a lot more than just “stating a position of disbelief”, because doing this unreflectively is likely to take one straight into the arms of the opposing belief, which is just as metaphysical and no more helpful in our experience than the one we started off rejecting. This is why, for example, I think it is important in critically discussing Thanissaro’s arguments about rebirth to also distance oneself from Thanissaro’s opposing target, the materialist view.
Finding that mid-point of agnosticism is a subtle business and it takes work. Partly it’s about seeing the limitations of the positions one is trying to avoid on either side, but also, more positively, consulting one’s experience and reflecting what beliefs one can really justify based on it. Philosophical discussion can be invaluable in finding that mid-point. It’s not primarily about attacking people or positions one disagrees with, but about finding a way forwards from the limitations of their positions. If you are really trying to find the mid-point and avoiding the opposing dogma, this will in any case make it much easier to see the complexity in the position of the person you disagree with – how they seem to be right in some ways but not others, and how their views relate to their context. All of these reflections have a close relationship with the arising of compassion.
3. Metaphysical views form a basis of attachment
Metaphysical views are so worth avoiding because of the ways they negatively affect ourselves and others. They do this by being a basis of attachment. If a belief is beyond all examination in experience it becomes apparently impregnable. All experience can be interpreted in a way that fits it. An obvious example of this is the way that theists can easily interpret every aspect of their experience as being compatible with God’s existence, whilst an atheist can just as easily interpret all experience as showing God’s non-existence. Since neither case can be proved or disproved, the arguments are interminable and the positions entrenched.
Metaphysics is associated with conflict – not just the obvious cases like the Crusades, but the person at work with the fixed attachment to a certain management theory who won’t listen to objections, or the psychological conflict one can discover in oneself between a belief in Romantic individual freedom and a belief in social responsibility. Wherever conditions are not being addressed as fully as they might be, there will be a dogma stopping us from examining those conditions, and wherever there is a dogma a little philosophical analysis can usually uncover a metaphysical belief. Avoiding metaphysics is centrally a practical concern if we want to address conditions better than we do, by forming provisional theories that are subject to examination in the light of experience and acting on them.
4. Critical metaphysics needs to be distinguished from metaphysics
Philosophical discussion is not necessarily metaphysical because it is philosophical. I make a distinction between metaphysics, which involves making assertions that lie beyond experience, from critical metaphysics, which uses philosophical argument to detach us from such assertions. The difference, in the end, is one of motive and mental state, so it has an inter-relationship with other aspects of spiritual practice. If we are using philosophy to try and get free of rigidity and narrowness, and to address conditions better as an aspect of practice, we are doing critical metaphysics. If, on the other hand, we are using philosophy to support a fixed position, develop a power base, or destroy an opponent, we are probably doing metaphysics. This distinction may not be immediately apparent to everyone, particularly online, but it is nevertheless a crucial distinction. It is a matter for ongoing self-scrutiny.
5. Silence needs to be pragmatically judged
Finally, there are also obviously some context and occasions when philosophising is more appropriate than others. There is a well-developed pragmatic tradition in Buddhism which talks, for example, of those “who have little dust in their eyes”. There is not much point in trying to persuade those who are a long way from even being able to understand what you are on about, let alone accept it. There is a case for pragmatic silence, or at least for building up a relationship first, before tackling philosophical matters with many people. However, I don’t think this is a reason for refraining from philosophical discussion where people are interested in it, where useful things might be communicated, learnt and shared, and where it does not interfere with any other important practical activities. This blog appears to meet all those conditions, so I do not see any case for philosophical silence, or for restricting myself to more obviously or immediately practical matters (as opposed to the long-term practical that philosophy is concerned with). Philosophical discussion of course does not exclude discussion of practice or inspirational material.
Where could it be more important to discuss philosophical principles than in the online discussion space of a nascent movement like secular Buddhism? No, we need more philosophy, not less, but we also need to do it with care and reflection.
Robert M. Ellis
When a highly respected figure takes a stand on something he sees as fundamental, he should be listened to. When that figure is Thanissaro Bhikkhu, a modern mouth of the Pali Canon, he deserves a respectful hearing for The Truth of Rebirth And Why it Matters for Buddhist Practice, a 46 page booklet available at Access to Insight. I should say at the outset of this brief reflection on it, however, that it has tended to strengthen my unbelief.
The two main strands are a learned and fascinating exposition of rebirth drawn from the Pali Canon, and a much less convincing account and attempted demolition of the views of those who cannot make rebirth part of their practice. I wouldn’t dream of arguing with the former—even if I could fully understand it—but have chosen a bone or two to pick with the latter.
Let’s start on page 3 (my references to the booklet are to the pdf version, and to its author, TB) where he begins to wind up a five-point rebuttal of rebirth deniers with a reference to the development of Liberal Christianity and Reform Judaism in the nineteenth century. I’d like to hold him there for a moment. These are perfectly respectable approaches to their faiths, and the fact that two major religions have been through a similar shift should give more pause for thought than he allows. I don’t think it’s good enough to suggest that a different standard of belief should be expected of Buddhists who inhabit a modern mental world, however much of the Canon is laid out in evidence, than of Christians and Jews.
Sometimes, I don’t think the Canon helps TB’s arguments. One of these is that the Buddha positively chose against materialism, ‘and there’s no reason to assume that he would respond to materialism any differently today’ (p.43). I wonder: one of the examples given (p.6) is that of Prince Payasi who tests the no-soul hypothesis by sealing a man in a jar and lighting a fire under it: ‘When we know, “The man has died,” then—removing the jar, breaking through the seal, opening the mouth—we look carefully, (thinking,) “Maybe we’ll see his soul escaping.” But we don’t see his soul escaping….’ (DN 23). Materialism has moved on a bit since then, as has human thought. Think of the Renaissance, the Reformation, the Scientific Revolution and the European Enlightenment. Try to imagine a debate between Siddhartha Gautama and Voltaire on the question of rebirth.
TB makes a lot of the blunt instrument of the wager as a means of keeping us on the path. Would you take a bet on being wrong, the Buddhist equivalent of risking hellfire forever? It doesn’t work for me, and even less when he reduces it to the cash nexus: ‘It’s like having money: Regardless of what you do with it—spending it, investing it, or just stashing it away—you’re making an implicit wager on how to get the best use of it now and into the future. Your investment strategy can’t stop with, “I don’t know.”’ (p. 16). That, I must confess, is where he really lost me.
So much more to say, but I’d rather end on a positive note. I’ve heard, I think, that the Buddha’s advice to his monks, should they start disagreeing about the doctrine after his death, was that they should go their different ways and practice the Dhamma as they saw fit (perhaps someone knows the reference?). I want all the traditions to live, and recognise that time and change will bring more into being. Given the pacific nature and history of Buddhism, I’m fully confident that there will be peaceful coexistence between whatever we are or become—’the Modern Vehicle’, or ‘The Hatless School’, perhaps?!—and the traditionalists like TB, whatever our differences.
Oh, and I’ve just spotted Mark Knickelbine’s much more learned posts on the same subject over at Secular Buddhist Association here and here.
John Skrine