Before meditation practice has even begun, Westerners are usually
complete victims of emotional responses, blinded by irrational hopes
& expectations. After initial engagement in the sitting practice,
they are easily defeated at the outset by apparent inconsistencies.
Rather than actually "practicing", the tendency is just to sit there,
exercising confusion.
It's necessary therefore to have some clear idea of what it is that
we're actually trying to DO when we meditate. Of course, any "idea"
we have about practice is NOT the practice itself, yet we don't gain
much by simply wandering into a semblance of practice without a realistic
sense of what is going on. Kalu Rimpoche once said:-
"It is said that someone who tries to meditate without a conceptual
understanding of what he or she is doing is like a blind person trying
to find their way in open country; such a person can only wander about,
with no idea how to choose one direction over another"
We can't suppose that just because a Dharma centre exists somewhere
& is apparently staffed by "teachers" that the mistaken approach doesn't
apply; having the capacity to raise funds & to physically establish
such a centre only demonstrates that many Westerners are sufficiently
wealthy & emotionally insecure to be willing to underwrite such a
project. Provided the "teacher" looks & sounds impressive, & the programme
promises some measure of emotional consolation, the money & the students
will continue to arrive. I myself spent five years in an organisation
that implied to its students that all they had to do was sit enough
formal meditation, & eventually they would "figure it all out". The
establishment I mention seemed to do little else with its time other
than sit staring holes in the wall & busily raise money.
In all the time I was there, I never heard one concise teaching
given on what the immediate purposes of meditation were, nor were
the students ever invited to discuss the conceptual models that might
be applied to sitting practice. If that last statement sounds a little
strange: "the conceptual models that might be applied to sitting practice".
I would refer to the above statement made by Kalu Rimpoche - there
is nothing "wrong" with commencing our sitting practice with a conceptual
model.
The abiding notion that concepts are WRONG often forms an early,
mistaken understanding of Buddhist teachings. Westerners, perhaps
by virtue of having been saturated with intellectual effort throughout
the centuries, believe that an alternative path to intellectualism
is one of establishing the "meaninglessness" of thought. All efforts
are thereafter dismissed as merely concepts: "Oh what's the point!
It's all conceptual anyway, why DO anything!". The Buddha identified
two main errors that we encounter on the path of practice, one of
them being nihilism, which is expressed in the previous sentiment.
The truth is that everything we deal with is conceptual - we live
in a conceptual world, & if we are to work in any profitable way with
our situation, then certain concepts have to be accepted as starting
points. Otherwise, we find ourselves in the position that Kalu Rimpoche
described, just blind people, blundering about with no clear direction.
Hindu spiritual practice is centred upon the Supreme Self - "Atman".
Through union with this supreme identity, we also unite with God,
& thereby abide in Brahman. Dwelling in the blissful state of Brahma
is seen as the final aim of spiritual practice, the greatest achievement
possible in the course of human life. This doctrine was rejected by
The Buddha on the basis that there is nowhere in the empirical personality
where such a "supreme self" can be located; in fact, when any phenomena
is investigated with the object of locating its essence, there's no
essence to BE located. An error often made in Buddhist meditation
practice is to suppose that "locating the essence within" is relevant
to Buddhist teachings also, & to suppose, mistakenly, that any minor
'experience" we might undergo as a result of practice - the days when
we feel we are thinking more clearly, or being more patient with people
& so on, is evidence of unity with that supreme essence. For reasons
that I hope will be made clear in this article, this is not the case
at all.
Another error that is often made is to suppose that we can equate
the Buddhist concept of self with the Western concept of "Ego" which
has been largely inherited from Freudian thought. It must be borne
in mind that no such concept of the Ego existed in The Buddha's time,
& that his identification of the Self is based upon different criteria
altogether. If we attempt to interpret Buddhist doctrines & practice
through the eyes of post-Freudian psychology, then we will doubtless
arrive at SOME theory concerning liberation from the constraints of
a mis-identified Self, but it will be a "mix & match" solution, &
will not relate accurately to The Buddha's teaching of Emptiness -
of the non-locatable nature of the Self. The position that tends to
be arrived at with the "mix & match" approach is to mistakenly equate
the egoless state with a total release from all constraints. The ego,
in this mistaken conception, is identified as "the enemy" - that which
limits our spiritual insight, robs us of freedom & spontaneity, leading
even to dysfunctions of the physical body. "Spiritual breakthrough"
is, under these circumstances, regarded as a return to some pre-natal
state, where the mind is one of childlike freedom, far beyond any
"pain" that is connected with the experience of "conceptual existence".
Many people holding this view were attracted to "Primal Therapy"
in the 1970's, which was popularised by the American psychotherapist
Arthur Janov. Briefly, Janov believed that pain is rooted in the original
trauma of birth. He believed that neurosis has its root in the active
suppression of this pain, whether that activity be conscious or unconscious,
& that regression through earlier & earlier pain-experiences until
the "originating pain" is located would lead to release. That release
would have such an impact upon the patient that they would be likely
to cry out, & Janov identified that cry as the "Primal Scream". He
wrote a book discussing his theories which gained a wide readership,
entitled - precisely - "The Primal Scream".
Egolessness is sometimes mistaken for a state of "oneness" or merger,
a kind of self-forgetting that will lead to identification with beings
& phenomena outside of the ego. Such ego-less experiences are interpreted
as trance-states or ecstatic union, & there are communities & centres
that foster this approach. Some such places have been, & are often
still, scenes of extraordinary & outlandish behaviour.
A more harmful result of this kind of mistaken practice is to see
spiritual liberation as a process of subjugation. This is where confusion
over merger-states is projected into relationships with perceived
"others". The problem with this sort of confusion is that the validity
of the "other" is accepted, whilst the validity of the self is not.
This denial of the self in the face of the glorified "other" quickly
leads to states of quasi-spiritual masochism. This masochism expresses
itself in a desire to be united or "merged" with the glorified other,
in the belief that something of the other's "essence" will then glorify,
or ennoble the disciple. The opportunity for all kinds of exploitation
of those labouring under such false perceptions is obvious. A kind
of pressure can develop to cast off the attachment to ego, & this
generates confusion between the "compassion" that is supposed to grow
out of wished-for egolessness - accessed through subjugation to the
glorified other - & Bodhi-Citta, or Wisdom-Mind, as identified in
Buddhism.
It is precisely this misunderstanding that renders individuals vulnerable
to eroticised attachments to gurus & teachers. Such masochistic attachment
will continue, even after final abandonment by the glorified other,
when the latter has moved on to another individual manifesting the
same masochistic tendencies. I once witnessed such a case in a meditation
centre run by a famous Tibetan guru-figure. The victim, a woman -
felt compelled to continue in her 'surrender" to the guru despite
the misery of having realised she had been sexually exploited. She
suffered isolation at the hands of other disciples, who interpreted
her complaints of mistreatment as "negativity". Her attempts to discuss
her difficulties with others were seen as "treachery".
Another mistaken approach is to identify egolessness as a state
BEYOND ego; the ego must first exist, then be abandoned. This is in
direct contrast with another mistaken belief mentioned earlier, that
the state of egolessness existed BEFORE the inception of ego, & must
therefore be "reached back to" in practice. It is not, then, the Western
perception of ego that is addressed in Buddhist practice. It is, rather,
the inner experience of "being myself" that is focused upon. Buddhist
meditation is the means through which we elucidate enquiry into the
validity of a seemingly substantiated self. Once it is realised that
an identified self is non-locatable, the experience of such is rendered
invalid.
Errors may also manifest self-destructive tendencies; most commonly
this dynamic involves identifying those parts of ourselves that we
perceive as "hindrances" - they might take the form of an unacceptable
level of lust, timidity, a crushing sense of our own unworthiness,
dissatisfaction with our physical appearance, & so on. An urge arises
to "let go" of these tendencies, or, more radically, to drive them
out. What is not understood is that such an urge is the prime engine
that DRIVES these tendencies - & the engine is anger. I can remember
a student, a middle-aged lady, becoming very confused when I suggested
that the only way to dismantle the feelings of anger that were crushing
her was to stop weeping over them & to acknowledge their existence
as PART of her, & to cease attempting to disown them. She protested
through her tears that she WASN'T angry at that moment, but sad. I
explained that all this so-called "sadness" was just a re-expression
of the same anger, the same engine pulling a different set of carriages.
Hearing this, she became very angry with me, raising her voice & throwing
her arms about. Then I shouted: "Did you see that! - Right in this
moment, right now, did you see how you dumped the "sad" carriages
& replaced them with "angry" ones? - BUT THE ENGINE IS JUST THE SAME!"
Hearing this in the middle of her tirade she stopped short. Her
eyes widened & her mouth fell open. She sat there, silently holding
that astonished expression for quite a long time. "OF COURSE!" she
exclaimed, "There hasn't really been any change in my basic attitude
at all, I've just been going through different emotional patterns!"
At once she relaxed, her face softened & she broke into a radiant
smile - in the moment that she INCORPORATED her anger, it dissipated
- like mist.
Another mistaken perception is to confuse Emptiness with some notion
of "empty mind", a mind in which no thought arises, no mental images
flit across our internal movie screen. In such a case, thoughts &
mental images are designated "enemy" & strident attempts are made
to shut the enemy out. The classic Christian monastic term for this
error is "quietism". As the term suggests, the practitioner embarks
upon a programme of "caution" in day-to-day living. Conversation is
cut down to the absolute minimum, if not discontinued altogether.
If a question is asked, the practitioner will force themselves to
stop & think before answering, & when they DO answer, it will be in
a quiet, measured voice, avoiding all but the most essential words
to convey a reply. There are hundreds of behavioural combinations
that the practitioner will go through in an attempt to block thought
& mental images. This stilted, unnatural behaviour, the practitioner
is convinced, is "mindfulness" or "living with the mind at peace".
All that is achieved out of this artifice is to irritate all those
whom the practitioner comes into contact with, & finally for the quietism
to collapse at some stage through sheer mental exhaustion.
The abiding problem in meditation is that after a comparatively
short period of regular sitting, certain states of mind arise that
bring sensations of happiness, elation, euphoria, a more calm & "centred"
way of carrying on with daily life, & all manner of inspiring things.
However impressed the practitioner might be with such mental phenomena,
they are only blips on the radar screen, internal "contact-highs"
experienced as a natural part of developing practice. These states
DO NOT inform of a penetration of Emptiness, nor the realisation of
No-Self, nor do they indicate the arising of Bodhi-Citta. No one state
that is experienced "contains the truth", for the truth, in Buddhist
practice, concerns everything - is contained in everything - & nothing.
"Form is Emptiness, Emptiness is Form". Mindful observation of the
pattern of existence of external phenomena - the way in which all
phenomena arise, abide & dissipate, leads eventually to the same questioning
of such patterns within our OWN existence. Continued meditation upon
this non-substantial aspect of our own existence, the constant questioning
of the validity of the abiding Self, is the true focus of Buddhist
practice.
Copyright © 2004 by Nigel Edmonds. All rights reserved.
