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- A Path to Psychological
Freedom
- Malcolm Huxter
Dukkha often translates as
"suffering", but it also means the quality of unsatisfactoriness and uncertainty
related to change. According to Buddhists all the conditional states of life are dukkha.
The alleviation or elimination of dukkha or the path to freedom is a very personal path
which may include western psychotherapies and or spiritual practices. Generally, Western
psychotherapies are directed at strengthening the sense of self while spiritual practices
are directed at self transcendence. Present centred awareness may be one practice which
engenders both self fortifying and self transcending aspects and helps facilitate freedom
from dukkha. Present centred awareness is a practice and a technique where practitioners
are present and aware for the experience of life. Present centred awareness has been used
as a self regulatory mechanism and a self discovery process. Present centred awareness may
facilitate peak experiences which can transform habitually detrimental tendencies. Present
centred awareness may also be instrumental in resolving inner and interpersonal conflict
and engendering love or nonjudgemental acceptance. Moreover, present centred awareness may
diminish dukkha because it helps align ones perception of one's self in accordance with
the way things are or the truth. According to Buddhists the nature of the self is empty
and insight into its emptiness, with present centred awareness, is intrinsically
liberating.
Introduction
About fifteen years ago a
Buddhist monk I met claimed that life for most people was dukkha. Dukkha, he explained,
was a word from an ancient Indian language called Pali. He said that dukkha was roughly
translated as suffering. However, this translation was, he claimed, inadequate because
dukkha also signified the subtle qualities of unsatisfactoriness and uncertainty connected
with change in life (Khantipalo, 1976). When I heard the word explained, I started to
realise that my life and the lives of most beings around me, were characterised by dukkha.
It was further indicated, however, that it was possible to seek a path to freedom (from
dukkha) and hence out of suffering. The end result of this spiritual path is believed to
be a total liberation which, ultimately, can only be directly experienced and any general
conceptual descriptions deem inadequate and meaningless (Rahula, 1959). The alleviation of
dukkha and the path to freedom are offered by numerous salvational philosophies and
practices. On the secular side of the picture, Western psychotherapies offer relief from
some aspects of psychological distress by strengthening the sense of selfhood with whom we
identify our individuality. Spiritual paths, on the other hand, are directed at liberation
by developing a level of experience beyond that which is centred on a personal self. Some
of these (liberating) paths appear to take aspirants in opposite directions, but some
authors have attempted to reconcile this contradiction by offering paradigms which include
both 'self fortifying' and 'self transcending' methodologies which, together, can
eventually lead the practitioner to freedom (eg Wilber, 1981).
My own path towards liberation is characterised by a practice in which
I try to attend to and live my direct moment to moment experience of life. This method,
which I have adopted as my spiritual path, is called present centred awareness. In my
personal experience, present centred awareness has been a way to heal the psychic wounds
which I have accrued during this life (and perhaps others). Thus, present centred
awareness can be powerful pychotherapeutic device. In addition, present centred awareness
is considered to be intrinsically liberating because it engenders, in the practitioner, an
insight into 'truth'. In the sections which follow, this essay will examine, in detail,
the nature of the human existential bind (dukkha) and the path to psychological and
spiritual liberation through the practice of present centred awareness.
Dukkha
According to Buddhist thought
dukkha, which usually means suffering, is the truth of existence. However, many Pali
scholars claim that the word often has been misinterpreted and misunderstood (Rahula,
1959).Though dukkha may mean suffering (as it is normally conceived) a more precise
translation of dukkha is "unsatisfactoriness" (Rahula, 1959). Dukkha can
properly be understood in three ways: 1) dukkha as ordinary suffering, 2) dukkha as
produced by change, and 3) dukkha as a characteristic of being someone in a 'conditioned
state' (Rahula, 1959; Sole-Leris, 1986). The first type of dukkha encompasses the pain,
grief, lamentation and difficulties associated with old age, sickness and death. Also
included in this first category is the inevitable fact that individuals often get what
they do not want, do not get what they want, and soon are parted from what they like. This
first type of dukkha also includes mental distress such as confusion, anguish, worry,
fear, anxiety, depression, loneliness, and alienation (Rahula, 1959). The second type of
dukkha involves the paradox of living in happy and pleasant states and yet knowing these
beautiful moments are transient and must inevitably change and disappear. The last type of
dukkha involves the suffering engendered from clinging to the belief that transitory
manifestations of sensations, thoughts, feelings and emotions, are a solid and concrete
self which is usually labelled, by each of, us as "I", "mine", or
"myself" (Rahula, 1959). This last type of dukkha is, perhaps, the most
difficult to comprehend, but it will be clarified later in this essay. According to the
classical Buddhist texts, absolute freedom from dukkha only can be found in Nibbana (or
Nirvana) which is an unconditional state beyond causal existence and hence suffering
(Nanamoli, 1978). Conditional states, on the other hand, are characterised by dukkha
(Rahula, 1959).
Conditioned States and the Wheel of Birth and
Death
The types of conditioned
states are infinite. It is believed in Buddhist thought that every being creates his/her
own reality, and the various dimensions of individual realities cross over to form a given
realm or world. Western religions encompass the possibilities of experiential reality as
falling within the tripartite concept of heaven, hell, and a mediating earthly plane. Like
these other religions, Buddhist cosmology also has several realms of existence. In
Buddhist thought, however, there are 31 such levels (Tambiah,1970). Though Buddhist texts
have classic descriptions of these realms as places where beings abide (Kapleau,1971),
they are often understood as states of mind (Trungpa, 1973). As states of mind the realms
can be understood as part of one's own personal experience and/or as part of the
experience of those who live around us. The various realms of existence in Buddhist
cosmology can be divided into six basic categories: 1) the hell realms, 2) the hungry
ghost realms, 3) the animal realms, 4) the human realms, 5) the heaven realms, and 6) the
demon or asura (jealous god) realms (Tamaiah, 1970).
The Hell Realms
Many people are unhappy.
Angrily or desperately they struggle with existence yet find no relief. They may feel
trapped, isolated and lonely. There is no one to trust as the world seems violent,
miserable and frightening. Contracted defensively, they experience hell. In these realms
one is collapsed into a total paranoia and defensiveness. Here we find insanity, despair
and a sense that all is hopeless and lost. It is truly a hell on earth into which some of
us slip occasionally, but some, less fortunate, become hopelessly enmeshed for life as the
incurably insane.
The Ghost Realms
The preta or hungry ghost realm is
experienced as a state of intense and insatiable desire, frustration and dissatisfaction.
Feeling ever empty and lacking, pretas constantly search for something or someone to fill
their hungry space. Pretas are never gratified. No matter how much they try, gratification
is always just beyond reach. In Buddhist cosmology pretas are considered to be in a realm
of misery (Tambiah, 1970). When caught in these experiential realms we seek food, sex,
power, glory, and money with unending appetite but, nothing can satisfy.
The Animal Realms
From the Buddhist point of
view, the animal realm is yet another realm of misery. However, those in animal realms are
not cognisant of their misery because the animal realm is characterised by stupidity.
Actions are performed without discriminating wisdom and dominated by sensual desires and
hedonistic needs. Those in animal consciousness do not think intelligently and their lives
are governed by conditioning, indoctrination and seeking personal gratification.
The Human Realm
The human realm is considered
to be a realm of relative advantage. As a human, one has the ability to both seek and
enjoy pleasure and happiness. However, the human experience is equally grounded in
difficulty, and hardship. Human existence swings between pain and pleasure, loss and gain,
and praise and blame. Nevertheless, the emotions are not too extreme and those with human
consciousness have the ability and mental space to ponder their existence. The human realm
is therefore one of discriminating intelligence and is characterised by the ability to
choose. This realm is a particularly useful realm to seek liberation because the human
realm is a realm where one can see a balanced view of existence (Trungpa, 1973).
The Heaven Realms
Heaven states of
consciousness, are expanded states of consciousness where one feels joyous, happy, and
blissful all the time. Relationships are always fulfilling and meaningful. No one fights
and life is pleasure. Projects are successful and every thing is wonderful and beautiful.
These states of consciousness are also characterised by moments of transcendental well
being and peace. It is like we have made it, we have arrived and won the prize
(Trungpa,1973).
The Jealous God Realms
The final possibility of
conscious experiential reality is that of becoming one of the asuras or jealous Gods
(Trungpa, 1973). Knowing that heaven is possible, asuras jealously struggle up the ladder
to gain access to the divine state, alternatively, like a fallen angel, having tasted the
bliss and joy of heaven, they want it to continue and strive to regain the lost prize.
This realm is different from the preta realms in that the jealous Gods have power. Like
some politicians or mega-millionaires they claw their way to the top and, ever vigilant,
they are protective of what they have and struggle for yet more. Asuras have a
consciousness that is obsessed with power and the need for engrandisement (Trungpa,1973).
The realms and the psychological states they represent are constantly
changing. Unlike the Judeo-Christian dogma, neither heaven nor hell can last for ever and
the nature of conditioned experience is ultimately always change. Thus, life has the
potential for cyclic fluctuation between and within the realms of experiential reality.
Some days we may be in heaven while other days feel like hell. The arising and passing of
experience, moment to moment or life time to life time, is what Buddhists call the wheel
of birth and death or samsara (Trungpa, 1976). Being enchanted by samsara is dukkha.
Enchantment
Possibly one of the most
subtle forms of psychological suffering is what Roy-King (1986) calls enchantment. The
word enchantment has positive connotations in modern speech, however, as in the world of
folktales: "to be enchanted is to be lured to one's death by seductive voices, to be
turned to stone, to be obsessed (as Sinbad was) with journeys to impossible places, to be
asleep or forgetful." (Roy-King, 1986 p211) To be enchanted is, therefore, to become
intoxicated with the realities we create and to believe that these realities will last
forever. Buddhists consider that the conditioned states of the wheel of birth and death
are essentially unsatisfactory, or dukkha, because nothing lasts (Sumedho, 1983). Even at
the most refined levels of consciousness, when our lives have no anxiety, worry, fear or
gross distress, there still may be a quality of uncertainty. This uncertainty is an
awareness that even if we had every thing that we could ever want, it is still not
lasting. Dukkha may be gross and obvious or dukkha may be subtle. Regardless of whether it
is gross or subtle it is the awareness of dukkha that motivates individuals to seek the
path to freedom (Sumedho, 1983).
The Path to Freedom
When individuals become aware
of their dukkha they either avoid it with distractions thereby perpetuating its
manifestation (such as with drugs and alcohol) or they attempt to resolve it in a healthy
manner. Psychotherapy and spiritual practices are two ways individuals may attempt to
resolve the manifestations of dukkha constructively. Psychotherapy is essentially a
process designed to alleviate mental distress by initiating psychological change in a
manner which is both personally meaningful and socially constructive (Muzika, 1990). Most
Western psychotherapies are directed at the personality and usually work at strengthening
the self to make it more able to bear pain and to experience pleasure (Muzika, 1990).
Psycho-spiritual teachings and movements (both East and West), on the other hand, are
directed at self transcendence. The term transcendence may have a number of meanings, but
in current psychological paradigms the meaning of transcendence is transpersonal in the
sense that it is a development or a transition "to a level of experience beyond that
centred in the ego or the personal self" (Washburn, 1990, p85). Many of the major
world religions consider transcendence to be the primary path to liberation. However, the
interpretation of transcendence varies. For example, in the spiritual paths found in
Christianity the concept of salvation is synonymous with freedom. With salvation the soul,
having confronted it's sins and having repented, is saved and reunites (in intimate
relationship) with God (Washburn, 1990). This process, Washburn (1990) compares to the
Jungian notion of regression and final integration with the archetype Self. The ego, being
no longer separate from god, feels ultimate security, psychic wholeness and freedom from
distress. Within Hinduism, the self has two aspects: Jiva, the individual soul, and Atman,
it's universal form. Thus, freedom from dukkha is the discovery of the soul's universal
aspect (Muzika, 1990). In the Hindu tradition, spiritual development is a progressive
letting go of various levels of the self, (such as the physical level, the sensory mind
and the intuitive intellect) until one finally achieves a transcendental absolute oneness
with Atman in "blissful undifferentiated illumination" (Washburn, 1990, p87).
Buddhism, on the other hand, teaches that suffering is conditional on the belief in an
abiding, existent self. Dukkha arises because of attachment, aversion and ignorance (to
and of that self) and is a cyclic reaction energised by desire. With Buddhism the path to
freedom is one of insight into the nature of the conditioning forces. With wisdom, the
attachment to conditions is severed and Nibbana, as ultimate freedom, is realised
(Sole-Leris,1986).
At a superficial level, some of the paths designed to alleviate dukkha
may seem contradictory. For example, Western psychotherapies are generally directed at
strengthening the self while Eastern spiritual paths are concerned with its deconstruction
(Wilber, 1981). Wilber attempts to reconcile these contradictions by offering a paradigm
which includes both self fortifying and self transcending functions in the path to
liberation. Wilber considers liberation to be an egoless state of mystical union with the
universe that is beyond all division and duality. This state, called 'unity consciousness'
he claims has no boundaries or limitations and is ultimate freedom. Suffering, on the
other hand, he argues, results as the deluded mind creates self imposed boundaries and
fantasy divisions between the 'self' and 'other'. The more contracted these existential
boundaries are, the greater the alienation and subsequent suffering one experiences
(Wilber, 1981).
Wilber (1981) claims that development towards "unity
consciousness" occurs in several stages. Summarised, these stages are the
prepersonal, personal, and transpersonal. Like other stage development paradigms (such as
those of Kolberg, Freud and Piaget in Shaffer, 1985), each stage has its problems which
must be resolved before an individual can move successfully on to the next (Muzika, 1990).
Thus, Wilber (1981) claims that the different directions emphasised by the various
liberation techniques and practices may be appropriate for different stages of
development. At the prepersonal level, for example, in which individuals may be suffering
from hurt, despair, worthlessness and loss, therapies such as simple counselling and basic
psychoanalysis may be useful. At the personal level, where individuals need direction and
sense of meaning, Gestalt or Existential therapies may prove to be the appropriate
vehicles. However, it is only when the ego is strong and has established a strong sense of
meaning, argues Engler and Wilber (1986 in Muzika, 1990), that it is capable of dealing
with the transpersonal processes that may be encountered in spiritual practices such as
meditation. According to Engler "You have to be somebody before you can be
nobody" (1986 cited in Epstein, 1990, p18). A perennial question regarding reality
is: What is the truth and which path does one follow to find it and freedom? Some base
their choice on emotional attractiveness, while others use intellectual reasoning to make
their decision. Therefore, confidence in a path or a "faith" can be fuelled by
emotional energy or by intellectual reasoning. Both kinds of faith are important and
valuable in the process. However, it is the faith arising from our own personal experience
of the truth which has the most impact on the direction one takes (Goldstein, 1976).I have
confidence in the Buddha's teachings. This "faith" is fuelled by both emotional
attraction and intellectual reasoning. However, more than these two driving factors is the
power of my personal experience. I do not pretend to ultimately understand the
unconditioned or Nibbana, but, personal experience of the conditioned states has confirmed
for me much of what the Buddha has taught. On his dying bed the Buddha has been quoted as
saying to Ananda, his personal servant: "Be lamps unto yourselves. Be refuges to
yourselves. Take yourselves to no external refuge. Look not for refuge in anyone beside
yourselves. And, those Ananda, who either now or after I am dead, shall be a lamp unto
themselves, shall betake themselves to no refuge, but holding fast to the truth as their
lamp, holding fast to the truth as their refuge, shall not look for refuge to anyone
beside themselves, it is they who shall reach to the very topmost height."
(Goldstein, 1976, p116). When I follow this advice and look to myself for the truth and
the path, I realise that it only can be known in the context of present moment experience.
"Yesterday is a memory. Tomorrow the unknown. Now is the knowing" (Sumedho,
1983). Thus, having both faith and experience in the reality of the moment as the truth
and the path, I have come to believe that present centred awareness is an important way to
heal a distressed psyche and facilitate freedom from dukkha.
Present Centred Awareness
It has been argued that being
in the moment may bean important factor in the development of emotional well-being
(Roy-King, 1986). Being aware and present centred may be one simple technique which has
self fortifying (Wilber's prepersonal), self clarifying (Wilber's personal) and self
transcending (Wilber's transpersonal) functions. Present centred awareness is the act of
being fully aware of and attending to experience. The focus of this awareness may be
directed introspectively towards the 'self' or, on the other hand, it may be directed at
the world around us. However, as life is experienced through the mechanisms of our
humanness (the senses, thoughts, and emotions), present centred awareness is usually
directed at aspects of the experiencing 'self'. Present centred awareness has come to
subsume a number of other terms such as; bare attention (Goldstein, 1976), listening to
oneself (Rogers, 1961), living in the moment (Perls, 1970) or just being here now (Dass,
1972). Present centred awareness has been utilised in many psychotherapies and is central
to Gestalt therapy as well as Buddhist spiritual practice. All of these psychological
approaches offer numerous techniques which help to centre a person's awareness on the
present. However, it is Buddhism which offers the clearest explanation of the nature of
present centred awareness and the most complete description of how it may be successfully
practiced.
In the Buddhist Theravadin schools (where I have had my most
comprehensive experience), present centred awareness is referred to as 'satipatthana' or,
simply, mindfulness (Goleman, 1975). The word satipatthana has its origins in Pali which
was spoken by Gotauma Buddha (Nanamoli, 1978). "Sati" means awareness and
"patthana" means keeping present (Nyanapondika Thera, 1962). Satipatthana is
"The accurate, continuous registering at the conscious level of all events occurring
in the six sensory modes: seeing, hearing, touching, smelling and thinking, without
qualitative judgment, evaluation, mental comment or behavioural act." (Deatherage,
1982, p 19) Similarly "Bare attention means observing things as they are without
choosing, without comparing, without evaluating, without laying our projections and
expectations on to what is happening, initiating instead a choiceless and non-interfering
awareness." (Goldstein, 1976, p20) Satipatthana is a way of being and a meditation
practice. The role of satipatthana is to clearly perceive, in an objective (but not
disassociated) manner, the arising and passing of all conditions of mind and body
(Nyanapondika Thera, 1962). As a practice its aim is to gain insight into the nature of
the self, inner peace and psychological freedom. The theme behind mindfulness is to
honestly relate with what ever arises as it arises.
In traditional Buddhist teachings there are four foundations or areas
of mindfulness. These are mindfulness of body, feelings, mind states and mind objects
(Nyanapodika Thera, 1962). Mindfulness of body includes, among other aspects, being aware
of postures, somatic sensations and the breath. Mindfulness of feelings is not regarded as
mindfulness of the emotions as such, but more being attentive to the qualities of
pleasantness, unpleasantness and neutrality which arise in the mind with relationship to
physical sensations or mental processes. Mindfulness of feelings is considered as
important because "feelings" are primary factors in conditioning clinging
(attachment) and condemnation (aversion), two root causes of suffering (dukkha)
(Goldstein, 1976).
Mindfulness of mind states refers to being aware of the states of mind
that may colour the mind such as a distracted mind, an angry mind, a happy mind, a guilty
mind and so on. Mindfulness of mental objects refers to being aware of the content of mind
such as thoughts, and, in addition, being aware of how they condition both physical and
mental processes (Nyanapondika Thera, 1962). As a meditation practice, a practitioner of
satipatthana chooses a primary object of attention and focuses upon that object.
Theravadin Buddhist meditation teachers usually recommend choosing primary objects of
meditation that are physical in nature. They recommend physical objects, such as
sensations or sounds, because they are tangible, easy to focus on, and less illusive than
mental objects (Nyanasamvara,1974).It should be noted, however, that meditation teachers
claim that all objects of self, physical or mental, are essentially similar in nature.
Thus, if insight is gained into one object of self, then insight is gained into them all.
Primary objects of satipatthana meditation vary, but one of the most commonly used objects
is that of the breath. As one breaths, attention may be directed to sensations at the tip
of the nose or at the abdomen as it rises and falls (Nyanasamvara,1974). As a meditation
practice satipatthana is not limited to sitting in a meditation posture, but can carry
over into other activities, such as walking. In walking meditation the prime object of
attention may be the sensations in the legs, or the general posture of walking.
Ideally, when one meditates, one's attention remains with the primary
object. In reality, though, many people's minds do not stay focussed on the primary
object. There may be, for example, thoughts of the past or future, distracting aches and
pains, sounds and so on. When the mind becomes distracted from the primary object the
distraction is acknowledged and the meditator returns his or her attention to the object.
If the distraction becomes overwhelming or predominant, this "distraction" may
then become the object of meditation and of non-intellectual investigation. Like changing
gears on a car one may shift from object to object and from mindfulness of body to
mindfulness of mind states, feelings or mental objects. For example, if a jackhammer
started up outside one's meditation room, the vibrations of the sound (a physical object)
could become the object of meditation (mindfulness of physical objects or body). One could
also choose to be attentive to the unpleasantness of the sounds (mindfulness of feelings)
or the thoughts that arise in regard to the sounds (mindfulness of mind objects).
Alternatively, one could direct attention to the quality of anger that may arisen
(mindfulness of mind states) (Nyanapondika Thera, 1962).
Currently, Buddhist meditation retreats are gaining popularity in the
West (Goldstein, 1976). The activity in these retreats is very different from one's normal
life style and the session may last anywhere from weekend to months. On these retreats,
much time is spent sitting in meditation posture while attempting to focus upon a primary
object such as the breath. At the end of a sitting period one arises and does something
else such as eating or walking. As the retreat progresses, the delineating line between
meditation and non-meditation dissolve, so no matter what one is doing, mindfulness
monitors. Moment after moment, attention is drawn to whatever is happening in that moment
and to whatever one is doing which then becomes the primary object of meditation. Thus,
when one brushes one's teeth, attention is directed to teeth brushing and (perhaps) the
way the brush feels on one's gums, or the jerking action of the arms. When one eats, one
eats with mindfulness of tastes and/or chewing actions or mindfulness of thoughts related
to eating. When one visits the toilet, one is aware and present for the process of
defecating and so on.
Meditation retreats and the practice of satipatthana are not always
easy. It must be emphasised that meditation retreats, for many people, are often
characterised by periods of losing mindfulness and becoming enmeshed and lost in thought.
Nevertheless, for most practitioners, it becomes clear that the process of mindfulness is
in itself enlightening. That is, it illumines one's situation and lightens one's emotional
burden or mental distress. As time passes, practitioners may realise that satipatthana can
be practiced anywhere at any time. "In one sense mindfulness refers to a clear,
lucid, quality of awareness to the everyday experiences of life." (Tart, 1990, p83).
For many, therefore, present centred awareness may become a way of
being with life and dealing with day to day activities. For example, Thich Nhat Hanh, a
well known Vietnamese Buddhist monk, once wrote "when washing the dishes one should
only be washing the dishes, which means that while] washing the dishes one should be
completely aware that one is washing the dishes. The fact that I am standing here washing
these bowls is a wondrous reality. I'm being completely myself" (Hanh, 1975, p3).
Being present centred and aware can generate a sense of freedom and
alleviate dukkha in a number of ways. For example, present centred awareness can be used
as a 'therapy' which helps us deal with distressing 'gross' forms of emotional suffering
such as anxiety, depression, obsessions and fear. Being present centred may facilitate
peak experiences, which can alter one's sense of reality thereby causing a radical change
in perspective and, hence, new awareness which may have a healing effect.
Present centred awareness also may help us to deal with inner as well
as interpersonal conflicts. However, more than any of the above change processes which may
obviate detrimental life habits, present centred awareness is intrinsically liberating
because it engenders a radical and awakening alignment in consciousness. Present centred
awareness is intrinsically liberating because it draws one's consciousness into accord
with the way things are and, thus, in line with the most basic existential truth.
"The prescription of living in the now is the consequence of the
fact that we are living in the now; this is something that the sane person knows, but the
neurotic does not realise while enmeshed in a dreamlike pseudo-existence." (Naranjo,
1970, p67).
Present centred awareness as a prescription for life is a means to an
end, where the end is the means. The different ways present centred awareness may
facilitate a sense of freedom work in essentially similar ways. However, to clarify and
elaborate the liberating nature of present centred awareness, four angles will be
delineated in the reference to my personal experience.
Present Centred Awareness as a 'Therapy'
In our efforts to manifest
self-actualisation, Rogers describes the goal of life as "discovering the self one
truly is" by "learning to listen to oneself... to experience what is going on
within oneself" (Rogers, 1961, p169). Self awareness is thought to increase a
person's knowledge about his/her behaviour and "the more one knows about their
behaviour the more likely he/she is in a position to do something about it" (Pyke and
Sanborn, 1975 cited in Gibbons et al. 1985, p662).
Present centred awareness is, therefore, a therapeutic tool which is
used in a number of psychotherapeutic programs. It can serve both as a self regulation
mechanism and as a process of self discovery. For example, Psychoanalytic processes use
the technique of 'free association' as a means of increasing awareness and uncovering
repressed memories and emotions. Like satipatthana, Freud's free association technique
increases attention to the processes and content of mind, without censorship and criticism
of what arises (Speeth, 1982). Free association is thought to be therapeutic because it
helps resolve the debilitating effects of repressed traumas by bringing them into the
light of awareness thereby freeing the mind from restrictions imposed by self-suppression
(Muzika, 1990).
With Gestalt therapy, awareness is directed at how an individual
thinks, feels, moves, and interacts in a present moment context (Naranjo, 1970). Some
techniques used with Gestalt therapy involve dialogue between a therapist and a client.
With dialogue, the therapist constantly reminds the client to relate to the present moment
and issues which may have normally been avoided are explored. The expression of internal
states acts as a tool to centre and clarify the client's experience while simultaneously
providing a witness which enhances the attention and meaningfulness of the experience
(Naranjo, 1970). Other Gestalt processes involve sensory awareness processes. Physical
sensations that are normally avoided are explored and this can awaken a series of
unresolved memories and traumas. Once recovered, these issues are explored, accepted and
reintegrated into the client's life. Using the process of being brought back into the now,
an individual is empowered to discover how he/she blocks and interrupts his/her
functioning (Kepner and Brien,1970). The insights gained from increased awareness are
thought to be sufficient to alleviate numerous psychological problems including anxiety
(Davison and Neale, 1982).
Some therapists have used traditional Buddhist satipatthana tools in
clinical situations to deal with manifestations of anxiety depression and obsessive
behaviour (eg Wortz, 1982; Deatherage, 1982). One traditional method which has been used
to enhance the effect of satipatthana is that of labelling an object of attention or
mindfulness with a name (Nyanapondika, 1962). Like the expression of feelings and thoughts
used in Gestalt therapy, 'noting' serves to concentrate the mind as well as clarify and
objectify the condition. For example, attention to the rising and falling in the abdomen
while breathing can be labelled "rising, falling", thoughts of the past can be
labelled "remembering", the future, "planning". Simple emotional
tendencies can be labelled appropriately such as "anger", "worrying",
"fear", sadness" etc. Actions also can be labelled accordingly such as
"brushing" for brushing one's teeth, "pissing" for urinating etc.
Another satipatthana tool which can be developed is what Deatherage (1982) calls "the
watcher self". "The watcher self can see the remembering of some painful event
and label it objectively without becoming involved in its melodrama. The watcher can
therefore put psychological distance between the 'me' who experiences the painful event
and the 'me' who is presently remembering it. "(Deatherage, 1982, p22) The
"watcher self" is not used to strengthen the self concept but: "The watcher
self is used only as a tool for grounding some of the patient's mental energy in the
present, providing a temporary, psychological stable centre for them to operate from and
providing a perspective from which their own psychological functioning can be objectively
observed." (Deatherage, 1982, p25).
Both "noting" and developing the "watcher self" can
be very useful. If one can say to oneself, for example, "anger" when one is
experiencing rage, then the "noting" allows the space to choose one's reactions
instead being dominated by blind action. This space which noting and satipatthana promote
can be therapeutic. In one case study, a divorced woman who was having bouts of
depression, anxiety and unwanted memories of her ex-husband's bizarre sexual demands, was
trained to label the thoughts as "remembering, remembering". Within a few days
she could see the causal relationship between the thoughts and the anxiety and depression
which proved to be quite therapeutic (Deatherage, 1982). Another woman, who was
hospitalised for manic-depression and schizophrenia, was instructed to watch the second
hand of a clock and, when her mind went off the clock, to name the distraction. She soon
realised that most of her distractions were related to the past. She was then instructed
to label them "remembering, remembering". With this technique "she learned
to identify herself with the objective watcher of her disturbed thoughts instead of the
depressed thinker" (Deatherage, 1982, p24). She was able to gain insight into the
nature of her illness from this process and it was not long before she was released from
hospital. Another woman who was hospitalised for anxiety, depression and inability to
function adequately, rebelled against any suggestion of introspection, and owing to the
fact that she was a Mormon the word "Buddhist" or "meditation" was not
mentioned. As the therapists interacted with her it became evident that much of her day
was spent fantasising and imagining to avoid the anxiety of her life. The habit of
fantasising was discussed with her and she was then was asked to undertake a
"psychological procedure". To her surprise she was asked to bake a cake.
However, she had to do it extremely mindfully with minute attention to every detail. When
her persistent fantasies would arise, she was instructed to just observe them. After a
time she found that she could intentionally return to the present moment and so function
more adequately. With mindfulness and other therapy she eventually gained insight into her
anxiety and depression and was released from hospital (Deatherage, 1982).
I have been using meditation practices for nearly fifteen years, but
began using satipatthana meditation techniques about 7 years ago. I have attended numerous
meditation retreats and have noticed a "therapeutic" effect of mindfulness in
these retreats and in my daily life. When I first started employing the satipatthana
methods, I began experiencing a pain in my heart area. At times it would feel as if a
knife had been inserted and was being twisted. At other times, it just ached. When I
meditated the pains would intensify and distract me from the primary object of the
meditation, so one day I decided to make the pain the object of my meditation. Although
the pain was dominant in my consciousness, I found that when I tried to direct attention
to the sensation my focus would 'deflect'. It was as if my mind wanted to avoid touching
that area. I experimented with methods which would enhance exploration and slowly I
learned that if I could generate a quality of total acceptance and gentle love, then the
pain would allow my mind inside.
As I ventured inside the pain, I was flooded with memories. I
discovered feelings of rejection, fear and loneliness which went far back into my
childhood. These feelings also related to my adult life and as I meditated images of past
interactions and associated emotional feelings of inadequacy and frustration would emerge.
The images and feelings arose concomitantly with the pain in my heart. The pains lasted on
and off for a period of about two years. I meditated upon them whenever they arose, and
slowly I gained acceptance of the pains and the past that they represented. Like the
integrative processes of Gestalt therapy, I found that the more I could accept the pain,
the more I could accept myself as a whole. This acceptance was also reflected in the way I
communicated with other people. I could relate with less fear and more openness and
honesty. In addition, the pains became a useful tool. Particularly, when I interacted with
people, (such as threatening individuals) the heart pain served as a warning signal that
communication was difficult. With the mindfulness training, I could be attentive to the
difficulty and allow myself to be open to those individuals (and the pain) finding
acceptance rather than closing down with resistance, rejection and fear. The mindfulness
process related to my heart area was therapeutic and healing in many areas of my life.
Slowly and gradually the pains vanished.
Mindfulness thus can open up and facilitate a resolution of undermining
influences in our lives. The detached (but not disassociated) attitude of present centred
awareness also allows for a space to occur between life's events and the ego's reactions
to those events, thus preventing our lives from being overwhelmed by unwise obsessions and
actions. Mindfulness, for example, can catch a thought of anger before that anger is
converted into a fist in someone's face or it can catch a worrying thought before the
thought explodes into full blown anxiety. The regular practice of present centred
awareness, can gradually alter habitual and crippling reactions to disturbing thoughts and
feelings. However, another even more potent and rapid method for effecting change in
habitual tendencies and promoting well-being is to experience a radical alteration of
consciousness or a peak experience.
Peak Experiences
A moment is only a short segment of
time, yet in moments the human experience of reality can be deepened, challenged, explored
and transformed (Roy-King, 1986). Carlos Casteneda, is an American writer who has authored
a series of books about experiences he supposedly had with a Mexican shaman named Don Juan
Matus. Over the course of their many discussions, Don Juan often attempted to get Carlos
to attend more fully to the moment. He believed that this type of attention had in it
great power to transform one's experiential world. "Do you know a moment can be an
eternity?....This is not a riddle its a fact, but only when you mount that moment and use
it to take the totality of yourself forever in any direction" (Casteneda, 1974,p8).
Being in the moment can facilitate what have been called 'peak
experiences' and facilitate the opening of realities previously unexplored. Maslow (1968)
described peak experiences as moments of intense joy and fulfilment that may occur when
individuals are present for life. A mystical experience is one type of peak experience
(Maslow, 1968). Mystical experiences may occur after intense spiritual practices,
encounters with death, or spontaneously when a persons attention is focused, in the
present (Happold, 1963; Grey, 1985; Goleman, 1975). The mystical experience is a
subjective phenomenon which is not susceptible to scientific scrutiny or verification.
Despite materialistic scepticism and explanation, the mystical experience is very real to
those who perceive them (Grey, 1985). According to Happold (1963) mystical states are
beyond description by discursive intellect. They are states of knowing that have elements
such as 'timelessness', 'peace', and 'oneness with the universe' which create a feeling
that the phenomenal ego is dissolved into some greater entity or presence. Gopi Krishna,
in reference to his mystical experience described "sensation of light....an
overwhelming sense of wonder and awe.... unshakeable conviction of the reality of the
situation...an encounter with an inexpressible all knowing intelligence of an omniscient
divine being... love and adoration." (Grey, 1985, p149) Another description is that
of a school boy who spontaneously experienced a "timeless moment" Suddenly and
without warning, something invisible seemed to be drawn across the sky, transforming the
world about me into a kind of tent of concentrated and enchanted significance. What was
merely an outside became an inside. The objective was somehow transformed into a
completely subjective fact, which was experienced as 'mine', but on another level the word
had no meaning; for 'I' was no longer the familiar ego." (Happold, 1963, p 130)
Peak experiences have numerous dimensions, and manifestations. They can
be cosmic shifts in consciousness (such as the mystic variety) or they can be less
spectacular moments of happiness and fulfilment (such as falling in love, watching a new
born child, moments of intellectual insights, or moments of athletic achievement). Maslow
(1968) claimed that these experiences were therapeutic. They could alter a person's view
of himself and others, and significantly alter the relationship with the world. In
addition, these experiences are capable of releasing a person's energies for greater
creativity, spontaneity, idiosyncrasy, and expressiveness. Maslow went on to claim that
some mystical or oceanic experiences have been "so profound as to remove certain
neurotic symptoms forever after" (Maslow, 1968, p101).
Of the few studies related to the after effect of mystical experiences,
those concerning the near death experience (NDE) are gaining increasing interest. Numerous
studies (according to Ring, 1980; Grey, 1985; and Flynn, 1982) have indicated that NDEs,
which have mystical elements have changed those who have experienced these states in a
number of ways: "Experiencers resume life by living it more fully, loving more openly
and fearing death less, if at all. Their life seems more grounded in a sense of purpose
and is more consciously shaped by the spiritual values of Iove and acceptance."
(Ring, 1980, p202)
After conducting a survey on NDE experiences Flynn (1982) argued that
the effect of the mystical states on moral consciousness and belief structures was
profound. He found that those who had experienced the mystical states associated with NDEs
were likely to operate from a high stage of moral development. Many of those who have
experienced mystical states have been called saints (Happold,1963). Thus, peak experiences
are not only pleasant, they can be profoundly transforming. They may uproot detrimental
conditioned responses that cause suffering and awaken individuals to self actualising
principles (Maslow, 1968). It appears, the more refined or transcendental the experience,
the stronger is its effect.
States of concentration called 'Jhanas' can produce very refined states
of consciousness which may contribute to the onset of a mystical experience (Goleman,
1975). Buddhist texts (Buddhagosa, 1976) offer detailed taxonomies, organisation, and
general explanations of how to achieve these states at will. Basically the greater the
level of concentration the more refined is the experience. At initial levels of activation
(such as being in love), the body feels light and expansive and the mind is happy. As the
states become more refined there are feelings of bliss, rapture, followed by consciousness
of infinite space, oneness with the universe, awareness of no-thing-ness and eventually
neither perception nor non-perception culminating in feelings of indescribable peace
(Goleman, 1975).
Mystical states form a major component of Wilber's (1981) notion of a
path to freedom and "unity consciousness" which, according to him, is the
ultimate state of freedom. Like Maslow (1968) Wilber (1981) argues that peak experiences
of this type have the power to eliminate neurotic habits and tendencies and they may even
alter one's perception of the world, the self and give a sense of incredible peace.
However, peak experiences are still part of paradoxical life situation
and the wheel of birth and death discussed earlier in this essay. The catch is, no matter
how sublime and subtle the experience is, like heaven, peak experiences are impermanent.
Certain individuals can encounter peak moments, benefit from them and then let them go.
Most however, like fallen angels, strive for the continued experience of expanded states
of consciousness and this can become a terrible trap. Meditation teachers caution of the
dangers of developing the Jhanas because of their seductive power and deceptive nature (we
can easily believe we have 'arrived' at ultimate liberation when, in fact, we are still
caught on the wheel). If attachment is developed to an impermanent experience, then the
attachment may condition wanting (like a Hungry Ghost) which eventually leads to misery
(Epstein, 1988).
Thus, ironically, being present centred may facilitate peak
experiences, but if one's mindfulness is not strong enough, attachment to the peak
experience can engender further suffering. When I was twenty one years old, being aware of
my dukkha, I decided that the most important thing to do in life was to "get"
enlightened. Keen and enthusiastic to make "it" or die, I travelled to Thailand
and was ordained as a Buddhist monk. At that stage I didn't know much about satipatthana,
but used a variety of contemplation meditations to centre my mind. After a short period of
searching, I found a meditation monastery in the forests of NE Thailand and stayed there.
The climate and surroundings were harsh and there were no other English speaking monks.
Life was difficult, yet I appreciated the rich spiritual life that being ordained and
living in a Buddhist community offered. During my stay I contracted, dysentery, malaria
and then later hepatitis, so the prospect of dying in the forests of NE Thailand was no
mere fantasy.
When I contemplated what or who dies, my mind became peaceful,
consequently death contemplation meditation became one of my primary practices. After
about 15 months of intensive practice, which was compounded by severe illness, my reality
began to break apart. My world and the experience of myself began to alter radically.
Wherever I looked, I couldn't find a "me" that died, and my ego seemed to be
dissolved into "something greater". There were many different experiences of
expanded consciousness which followed and they were characterised by a sense that
"I" was just a drop in the ocean of the universe. Everything seemed as if it was
a dream, but the dream seemed more "real" than anything I had ever encountered.
Strange but "perfect" events occurred as if they were following a divine plan.
The "me" I had always identified as my essential self seemed of little
consequence within this new perspective and everything appeared to be dominated by a very
tangible omniscient intelligence. All "I" could do was surrender to it. This
surrender was terrifying, but, at the same time it felt incredibly secure, spacious,
peaceful and liberating. For a period of about 4 months my world was turned upside down,
and my concepts of reality and existence were completely transformed.
For reasons primarily related to health I eventually disrobed, I left
the order of monks and returned to secular life. Two weeks later, as a result of a complex
set of circumstances, beyond the scope of this paper to describe, I married a Thai woman,
returning to Australia with her two months later. Having nowhere to live, we moved in with
my mother at Turramurra, an upper middle-class suburb of Sydney. Within a month my wife
was pregnant. The contrast between my expanded world of spiritual security and spacious
liberation and my new married life was horrific and my world felt as though it had come
crashing down. I felt completely trapped.
Back in Australia, my freedom lost, I experienced great conflict. I
reminisced about my experiences in Thailand, like flicking through postcards of a
wonderful holiday (holy days). I suffered intense inner conflict over my role as a husband
and parent while feeling great spiritual isolation in my new, materialistic surroundings.
I desperately wanted to be back in Thailand and not where I was. My feelings of misery
continued for quite some time. Eventually, I let go of my conflict and got on with life as
it presented itself, but I had learned some important lessons. The most important of these
lessons was that attachment to peak experiences can cause misery and suffering as
powerfully as these experiences can give feelings of peace and joy.
The Thailand experience had drastically altered my ,understanding of
life and the universe. However, it was just an experience and, as an experience, it was a
just another conditioned moment on the wheel of birth and death. The Buddha taught that
one of the primary root causes of misery was attachment (Nanamoli, 1978). Intellectually,
I realised that attachment may eventually lead to suffering, but habits are strong and I
still attach myself to concepts, views and objects. It is difficult to sever attachment.
Nonetheless, as I grow older, present centred awareness has become like a refuge or home
base. Sometimes I wander from it, suffer, but eventually return. Life is a constant
process of enchantment and letting go. When I experience conflict and the dukkha of
enchantment, present centred awareness is my most important ally in dealing with that
conflict.
Present Centred Awareness, Desire, Inner and
Interpersonal Conflict and Peace.
Conflict seems to arise when we feel that we should be somewhere else
doing something other than what we are presently doing. Amongst other things, it is the
feeling that conditions or circumstances 'should' be other than what they are and, in this
state of mind, the past and future appear to be more in accordance with our wishes and
ideals. Conflict of this type, whether inner or interpersonal, may be resolved with the
application of present centred awareness. Rogers (1980) seemed to be referring to the use
of present centred awareness in psychological healing when he described a process he
called becoming "congruent". "By this I mean that when my experience of
this moment is present in my awareness and when what is present in my awareness is present
in my communications, then each of these three levels matches or is congruent. At such
moments I am integrated or whole, I am completely in one piece." (Rogers, 1980, p15).
When people desire something and that desire is not satisfied, distress
or conflict may arise. Even the desire for peace and psychic freedom, though it may be
well motivated, is still 'desire' and therefore has the potential to give rise to
conflict. By being present for the experience of life as it naturally arises, it is
possible to transcend the pull of desire and the conflict or "discongruence"
which desire may create.
A few years ago I attended a meditation retreat. The retreat was held
in silence, which meant that there was no visual or verbal contact permitted amongst
participants. Some of the yogis were old friends while others I had never met before. For
six weeks I slept in a dorm, sat in a hall, ate and generally lived with 50 or more people
with whom there was no normal communication. One day, as I was "sitting" in
meditation, my mind became very quiet. There were no sounds in the hall and all I could
hear was the gentle rustle of trees and the sweet sound of birds. The conditions were
conducive, and I experienced peace. Part way through the session a person near me began to
wriggle. The sound drew my attention, but it was not disturbing. Later he began to scratch
his head and I also could hear him swallowing. My concentration was shattered and I felt
irritation arise, but at that moment the end-of-session bell rang and we all got up.
As the days continued, a similar scenario was repeated a number of
times. At these times his repertoire would also include getting up in the middle of the
session to use the toilet attached to the hall, flushing the cistern and then, returning
to his position in the hall, noisily writing memoirs in a journal he had been keeping. As
my meditations became more difficult I began to notice the person on the other side of me
as well. He was breathing quite heavily and, though not previously noticed, the rhythmic
rushing of air would distract me from my own breath which was the object focus of my
meditation. What were previously very calm meditation sessions began to become times of
great agitation and hatred.
My concentration deteriorated and instead of observing my breath, the
sessions began by neurotically waiting for the agitating sounds to begin. As their
vibration was detected, uncontrollable fantasies would arise. In my mind's eye I would see
me violently stomping on the culprit's journal and pen and strangling him while
simultaneously I could feel a power growing in my arms, getting ready to stuff any
available cushion up my noisy neighbour's nostrils. The thoughts would arise, and with
great aversion and clinging, I would suffer. Feeling the conflict in my heart, my mind
began to bargain. One thought I had was to write each of them a polite yet frank note:
"Please stop writing, it is disturbing my peace." or "Do you mind not
breathing, it is distracting my attention". For hours I would sit obsessively
planning the how, when, where, and what of my potential notes. While my colleagues were
either getting enlightened or completing the first draft of a best seller, I was entangled
and enmeshed with thought and conflict. Naturally, I didn't strangle my neighbours, nor
did I write them any diplomatic messages. I did, however, remember a talk given by a Thai
meditation master. He compared the suffering of worldly beings to a dog with an itch on
its back. If the dog sits in the sun it blames the sun. If it finds a shady tree it blames
the tree. If it jumps in the river it blames the river. The itch he said was greed,
ignorance and hatred. He, like the Buddha, claimed that only when these taints of mind are
uprooted will worldly beings find resolutions to their conflicts, peace and freedom from
suffering (Chah, 1980, 1982).
I suffered with my intense aversion for about 3-4 days. However, the
suffering came from my own mind. Its cause was attachment to pleasant and peaceful mind
states, aversion to unidealistic sounds, delusion about the way things should be and
ignorance about the way they were. The peace I originally experienced was conditional upon
getting things to go the way that I wanted them to. It became clear,(intellectually and to
some extent experientially), that true peace is unconditional and, so, not dependent upon
changeable objects of mind or body.
After this insight I tried to become 'congruent' with the experience of
life as it presented itself. I also tried to simplify and clarify the situation by
becoming aware of sounds as just sounds, thoughts as just thoughts, aversion as just
aversion and so on. As mindfulness sharpened the pain of desire, clinging and grasping
became more obvious with letting go of my views, concepts and desires being the only
natural resolution of my conflict and, thus, the way to peace and freedom.
Eventually I allowed myself to look at my noisy neighbours. I could see
that they, just like me, had conflict. Struggling with the mind's insanities, they also
had human difficulties, hopes, desires and personal issues. As I looked, and my 'seeing'
became clearer, an overwhelming quality of compassion and acceptance arose to take the
place of my anger and agitation.
In most cases interpersonal conflict resolution is dependent on being
able to hear another's point of view. Carl Rogers (1980) praised the ability some of us
have to really 'hear' another. If the mind is defiled with "taints", then
perception and human interaction may beclouded by one's judgments, expectations, desires,
aversions, hopes, fears and limitations. "Most of the time, of course, I, like
everyone else, exhibit some degree of incongruence. I have learned, however, that
realness, or genuineness, or congruence -- whatever term you wish to give it -- is a
fundamental basis for the best communication." (Rogers, 1980, p15)
According to Rogers (1980) real 'hearing' is a subjective experience
where one listens without judgement or expectation, but with an open mind. Words and the
concepts they create are therefore not twisted to fit into a listener's ideals or desires
but are heard in an honest and realistic manner. It was only when I could 'let go' of my
preconceived views, judgements and aversion that I could really 'see' the yogis on either
side of me and thus appreciate them with compassion. The ability to let go, however,
seemed to be dependent upon present centred awareness, which allows for the recognition of
conditions and fosters the wisdom to accept their reality. Conflict (inner or
interpersonal) is, of course, painful, and we tend to want to avoid it. Yet, if we
honestly feel and perceive our experience, whatever it is, in a present moment context, we
may find simple solutions.
To feel lonely is to feel isolated, alienated and disconnected from
oneself and the rest of the world. Love is a means of reconnecting with oneself and the
world around us, thus becoming whole through the union which love engenders. Love is
normally considered as liking something, however from a Buddhist perspective it is to
allow someone or something to be without judgment or expectation with "a willingness
to listen and be attentive" (Kittisaro, 1989, p155).
Intrinsic Freedom: No Self No Problems
The Buddha taught that there
are two types of understanding. The first type is the understanding which comes from an
accumulated memory and intellectual grasp of concepts. The second type is not dependent
upon intellectual reasoning and comes from a penetrative (non-discursive) insight into the
'truth's or the way things are. According to Buddhists the root causes of dukkha are
attachment, aversion, and ignorance and the way to liberation from dukkha is with
morality, concentration and wisdom. Morality is basically the act of living life with
integrity and doings those things which do not harm oneself or others. Concentration is
the ability to centre and focus attention while wisdom is a penetrative insight into the
way things are (Rahula, 1959). Mindfulness can engender both intrinsic knowledge and
penetrative wisdom (Mahasi Sayadaw, 1983).
Morality, concentration and wisdom are dependent upon one another. If
one leads a life that is fragmented with acts that are harmful, it is difficult to focus
the mind. If one cannot focus the mind, then it is difficult to see the truth. The more
one knows the truth, the more likely one is able to live life with integrity. Like a
forest water pool, if the muddy water is stirred up, one can not see its bottom, but if
the muddy water settles and the water is clear, one can then observe and know what is on
the bottom of the pool. Wisdom is the quality of clearly knowing the 'bottom of the pool',
that is, the truth of existence (Chah, 1980; 1982; Kornfield & Breiter, 1985).
According to Buddhists the truth of existence is that all conditioned phenomena are
impermanent and all phenomena are insubstantial, empty or not self (Sole-Leris, 1986). The
Buddhist line of thought considers that all psychological problems or dukkha, gross or
subtle, arise because of the idea that there is belief in a solid, abiding self and the
way to liberation is to gain insight into the empty nature of this deceptive self concept
(Rahula, 1959).
Egolessness has become an accepted aspiration of many meditational
practitioners (Epstein, 1988). For example, Wilber's (1981) "unity
consciousness" is a state where the "self" boundaries expand infinitely and
disappears and "identity, as a psychological concept, is achieved with the
universe" (Koltko, 1989). Many concentration practices, such as developing the
Jhanas, can lead to a loss of ego boundaries. For example, at the seventh level of the
formless Jhanas there is an "awareness of No-thing-ness" While at the eighth
formless Jhana there is "Neither perception-nor non-perception" (Goleman, 1975,
p215). Egolessness is commonly understood the sought after end state and so many
meditators attempt to abandon the ego for an experience that is free from ego boundaries.
This is not unlike my attempt to "get" enlightened when in Thailand. It seemed
that if I could surrender my ego and experience "Egolessness", I finally would
be free from dukkha. A few years back I began to realise that no-body "gets"
enlightened and there is nothing to be abandoned. According to Epstein (1990) emptiness
does not meaning nothingness or that nothing exists. Rather, it means that nothing solid
and lasting can be found with the concept attributed to self. Consequently, the freedom of
emptiness is not an experience or a state, but a relationship to conditions which are in
constant flux. "Egolessness in not a state, it is only found in relationship to a
belief in concrete existence." (p30). Epstein argues, that by an individual's attempt
to be rid of an ego and to merge it with its surroundings or attain a "state" of
"egolessness", emptiness is rectified into yet another 'thing'. The Buddhist
doctrine of emptiness certainly does not intend to replace one 'thing' (self) with another
(emptiness) (Epstein, 1990).
According to Buddhists the "self" is made up of five basic
elements or clusters of conditions (called kandas). The kandas are: matter (form),
feelings, mental formations (such as thoughts etc), perceptions, and consciousness. The
kandas are constantly arising and passing away in a manner similar to a motion picture
which is only a sequence of still pictures manipulated in such a way as to create an
illusion of life (Rahula, 1959). The usual self- concept is the result of bringing the
kandas together into an illusively solid entity and calling them "I"
"mine" and "myself".
When I ordained as a monk in Thailand my head was shaved. The hair
which I once called mine fell into a drain and was washed away. Later, when I thought that
I was dying, I scrutinised the self that I thought I was. Everytime I looked I found a
different concept. Sometimes I was a "monk", sometimes I was a "lonely
boy", sometimes I was "an Australian", at other times I was
"frightened" "brave" "young" "old"
"confused" etc. With every introspection I found yet different images and
concepts of myself, all of which inevitably would fade into something else. I could not
find a stable and lasting concept that I could call "I", "mine" and
"myself".
A few years ago I went on (yet another) satipatthana meditation
retreat. The retreat was scheduled to last for six weeks. Usually on retreats I can
maintain a reasonably stable and comfortable sitting posture. However, for some reason on
this retreat, no matter how many cushions I used or how I twisted my body, I could not
find a comfortable position. For the first two week I wriggled and squirmed (possibly
driving my neighbours crazy) and then, eventually, decided to surrender to the discomfort.
Like other times before (with my heart pain) I made "pain" the object of my
meditation. This time though, the pain was not an obvious reflection of something else n
my life but was distinctly physical in nature. The pain usually occurred around my knees
and feet. At first I felt great aversion to the pain and the one hour sitting sessions
seemed like four or five. Slowly, however, as I tried to remain present centred and aware,
my mindfulness and concentration sharpened and my attention could focus right into the
centre of the sensations with a quality of openness. What I found was fascinating. The
essential nature of the pain was space. Out of the space there were qualities of hardness,
heat, movement and moments of burning, sharpness, pulling and twisting. All these elements
would arise like miniature explosions out of the space only to change to something else
and disappear again. Some explosions were bigger than others but all of them only lasted
moments. If I became distracted, or mindfulness faded, all the little separate explosions
became diffuse and connected and the "knee" felt "painful". If, on the
other hand, I could remain focused, the next moment would arise before the last one had a
chance to hurt. If I could remain mindful and focused there was no "knee" and no
"pain", only moments of sensations. Only when all the little momentary fragments
of sensations were put together did it feel painful.
The "pain" of a "knee" can be compared to the pain
of our lives. Our ignorance allows all the thoughts and feelings related to the past and
the future to be mixed with delusions about the supposedly solid present in order to
create an illusion of a self which is miserable. On the other hand, if life can be
experienced moment to moment, then the potential for dukkha is greatly minimised. Present
centred awareness is way of seeing clearly the moment to moment nature of life. Present
centred awareness has the capacity of grasping reality to its maximum (Epstein, 1988) and
is like a solvent which dissolves the glue (i.e. ignorance) that sticks the self concept
together.
"There is a story of a man fleeing a tiger. He came to precipice
and catching hold of a wild vine, swung down over the edge. The tiger sniffed at him from
above while below another tiger growled and snapped waiting for him to fall. As he hung
there two mice began to gnaw away the vine. Just then he saw a big wild strawberry growing
nearby. Reaching out with his free hand he plucked the strawberry. How sweet it
tasted." (Goldstein,1976, p22)
Because Buddhist thought emphasises dukkha, Buddhists have been
criticised for being pessimistic. However, a Buddhist view is neither pessimistic nor
optimistic but, rather, realistic (Rahula, 1959). The only certain thing about life is
that there is death. It is like we are always hanging over a cliff from a vine being
gnawed by mice. Yet, life can be sweet if we are present to taste it. Being present for
life is intrinsically liberating because it illuminates the emptiness of both self and
psychological distress. As far as I am able to understand, emptiness does not mean
nothingness or annihilation. On the contrary, emptiness is full to the brim with
experience. "Emptiness is where you experience everything in itself and of itself
without meaning and judgement" (Peter Nelson, personal communication, 1990). Again,
if we can do what we do for the sake of doing it, then the energy wasted in maintaining a
self can be free to experience life (Moss, 1981).
Satipatthana:
Destabilising or Centring?
Earlier in this essay it was argued
that Western psychotherapies are directed at self fortification while spiritual practices
are aimed at self transcendence. Now, it will be argued that Satipatthana can fulfil both
functions. Satipatthana is both a way of being and an intensive meditation practice.
Wilber (1981) warns that meditation practices may be fragmenting and destabilising for
those individuals who are still at the pre and personal stages because "You have to
be somebody before you can be nobody" (Engler, 1986 cited in Epstein, 1990, p18). If
satipatthana unsticks the self concept, then satipatthana as a meditation practice may be
inappropriate for those whose problem is some form of neurotic fragmentation. However,
satipatthana is a meditation practice which incorporates both stabilising and integrating
functions. The "ego", according to Epstein (1988) can be understood in both
representational and functional terms. The representational aspect of the ego constructs a
picture of the self and the world with multiple mental images. The functional role of the
ego, on the other hand, maintains psychic equilibrium and facilitates adaptation and
growth. The "I" of the ego can be found in its representational aspect and this
aspect creates the "I" as something that is felt to be real and solid. The
functional aspect of the ego, however, promotes organisation and integration of the
diverse elements and inputs of the life experience.
While on a meditation retreat with a Burmese meditation master (Sayadaw
U Pandita, 1988), I heard him describe sharp mindfulness as having the nature of
penetration and the ability to 'cover', 'rub' or stick to any object of attention. With
mindfulness one "stays with" what ever happens as it happens. Thus, mindfulness
maintains a sense of connection with changing events. It does not destroy the ego, but, on
the contrary, provides and enhances a stable yet flexible centre from which to integrate
and synthesise changing experience (Epstein,1988). This ability to integrate random and
incessant change inherent in events is healing and leads to increasing well-being
(Muzika,1990; Epstein, 1990). Thus, satipatthana facilitates and engenders the functional
aspects of the ego and those who are mindful appear centred, at ease and
"together".
The representational self or "I", on the other hand, is an
illusion which arises because we do not scrutinise our experiences closely enough but
instead we examine ourselves from the viewpoint of a person (Muzika, 1990). If we practice
mindfulness, we begin to see the space between the kandas and the illusion of the
"self" is shown for what it is - no-thing. Thus, mindfulness lets ego be ego
(Epstein, 1990). Mindfulness does not eliminate the ego but rather banishes the delusion
regarding the ego. "This seemingly solid, concrete, independent, self-instituting I
under its own power that appears actually does not exist at all" (The Dalai Lama
according to Epstein, 1988, p68). When there is no self, then dukkha has no place to
abide. When there is no self dukkha does not have an owner. No self no problems!
Conclusion
Dukkha, is a term that refers
to gross suffering as well as the subtle aspects of unsatisfactoriness and uncertainty.
Dukkha is the reason why individuals seek freedom. The path to freedom is a very personal
path and I have faith in the Buddha's teaching because it has been confirmed by personal
experience. Central to this teaching is the practice of present centred awareness.
Although I can not claim to be an expert on satipatthana, I do know
that mindfulness has helped me cultivate freedom from dukkha. Satipatthana has given me a
stable centre and the psychological space to help heal a distressed psyche. Satipatthana
has also given me a means of dealing with inner and interpersonal conflict and provided an
insight into how to love myself and others. Moreover, mindfulness has been intrinsically
liberating because it has illuminated the fantasy nature of "my"
"self". Satipatthana is not an easy exercise. The habits of attachment, aversion
and ignorance are strong. Like most people I become lost and enchanted with conditioned
states and perpetuate dukkha. Every now and then, though, I sense a taste of freedom from
the wheel of birth and death. In those moments I discover that present centred awareness
is my refuge as well as my path.
There are numerous ways to cultivate present centred awareness. Present
centred awareness can be an intensive meditation practice and/or a way of life, but
essentially it is the practice of doing what one does for the value of doing it using 100%
of one's being. Present centred awareness is one way to freedom of the heart, but in many
ways freedom of the heart is simply present centred awareness which is being here now for
the experience of life.
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