One Man's Journey

      I was “thinking” about a couple of comments from the last book club meeting. Should we or should we not be “thinking” in order to advance our understanding of Buddhism and to take steps toward enlightenment? I recall from our meeting that someone (Ken?) had suggested the idea that reducing/suppressing our thinking may be a means to becoming more enlightened. This is highly compelling and consistent with the taming and silencing of the mind we seek during meditation.
     Through meditation, I can sometimes briefly see my “thoughts” as being separate from my true “self” and being counter-productive to finding the real “me.” But approaching and sharing these concepts in any way other than verbal communication and thorough analysis is farfetched for me (and most of the western world). And it seems that I’ve read over and over that Buddha insisted that we analyze, study, and test the concepts to see if they are valid, rather than accept them blindly (i.e. Without critical thought). So it is clear that on some level we need to use intellect to “get it.”
     The seemingly contradictory approaches of suppressing the intellect versus engaging the intellect as a means to becoming more enlightened was harmonized quite nicely by the statement that we have to use the intellect as a means to see beyond the limitations of the intellect. It actually tied it together very well.
     I can see that all concepts are only readily shared and absorbed through the use of written or spoken language. Then we need to mentally conceptualize the ideas that were expressed by words against the background of what we already know. However, after a period of getting comfortable with a concept, it seems that we can store it on a gut level and not have to pull it out by its label when we see or experience it. Instead, when the concept or idea is present or applicable I can try to “feel” it on a level that precedes the voice in my head calling it by the word that we (speaking humans) have collectively agreed will be the symbol for the concept. Somehow the intellect allows us to “get it” on a thinking level, and the intellect can then help recognize that, in order to truly “get it,” you have to experience it on an unspoken, visceral level that is intuitive yet tangible, rather than merely symbolic and conceptual.
     Reducing “thoughts” to tools or machinations to be employed skillfully and intentionally makes sense. Although I only get small glimpses of it, I have been able to sometimes distinguish between my conditioned thoughts and reactions and see some evidence of a true “me” that underlies these trappings. I like the idea of utilizing thought as a tool in everyday life, while continuing to search underneath the thoughts for what truly inspires me rather than what I have been taught by others to seek to achieve.
     The problem seems to be that the glimpses of what I think (hard to be sure) is the real me, are so short and so new, that it is hard to tell exactly what (if anything) the real underlying me is inspired by. When I get a spark, it is challenging to tell if it is genuine, and also hard to keep if from being extinguished by “rational” and “realistic” thinking.
     I tried to think about what that means. For me (at least for now), it means something like this:
     Buddhist concepts are most readily (maybe exclusively) shared and received through the use of written or spoken language. For example: I don’t think I would have ever spent much time on the concept of “impermanence” or intuit its relation to suffering just through my normal mental wanderings. Rather, it is by having read about impermanence many times in Buddhist writings and talking about it within our group that I even contemplated the concept of impermanence.
     Then after we (the listener/student) process the individual words and what they objectively symbolize, we need to mentally conceptualize the ideas that were expressed by the combination of words and sentences. For instance: Impermanence -- “Oh, I’ve noted constant change in my life before, but I just called it ‘getting older sucks.’” And, I understand that example of impermanence given in the teaching, because it is similar to the time I visited a hospice.” “Hmmmm, since impermanence is consistent with what I have learned to date and I’ve seen examples of it in my life, I think it is valid and I’ll try to remember this concept.”
     The new concept, if accepted and deemed worthwhile, is then labeled and categorized somewhere in my mind, but is most likely for me filed in relation to similar and contrasting concepts already within my mental framework. For example: Impermanence is filed in my mind with relations to -- (1) That image of the rotting log covered in moss that I saw in the woods, and (2) the memory of the death of my grandfather, and (3) within a mental file containing “central Buddhist teachings”; and (4) with some relation to other Buddhist concepts like suffering, 4 noble truths, etc., and (5) I know that I first heard about impermanence on a CD by Pema Chodron, and on and on and on.
     However, after a period of getting comfortable with a concept analytically and placing it on the mental shelf with appropriate connections to other knowledge, I don’t need to pull the entire concept and its constituent parts from the shelf every time I want to apply it. I just access it by the label on the outside without the need to redemonstrate its validity or completeness or immediately note its relation to other mental constructs. However, when I access by the concept by its label, I’m still “hearing” the word that is the label in my head. I don’t “hear” the label on an auditory level, but rather on a conscious level . For example: Oh, that event I’m witnessing is an example of “impermanence.”
     I don’t think I often do this, but at times new concepts eventually become so familiar and accepted within my mind that I’m able to access the concepts (now “knowledge”) on an immediate gut level (i.e. without even having to use my label for it). This is most likely to happen when external events occur and I’m truly present to them.
     In this state, when an event occurs to which the concept applies, I try to “feel” it on a level that precedes the voice in my head calling it by the word that we (speaking humans) have collectively agreed will be the symbol for the concept or whatever individual label I’ve chosen. For example: I see a recent, persistent pain in my knee and just note it with an “ahhhhh.” But behind the “ahhhhh” there is a knowledge that this is just aging and an example of impermanence, and I need to accept it and experience it just as it is in order to avoid denying it or revising the experience and thus causing suffering.
     In order to be fully present to the teaching inherent in the present event, I don’t take the time to say the label and don’t allow the cascade of my mental associations to the label to follow. Instead, I just say “ahhhh” (or nothing at all) and just mentally acknowledge that I see it for what it is without the need for pulling away from the experience even for a moment to label, compare, filter, deconstruct, “spin,” or otherwise think about it. “Ahhhh,” there it is, “Yes” . . . . But even without those mental words, if possible. Just a noting and acknowledging of what is present until things change and something else is present.
     So, with regard to Buddhist concepts, the intellect allows us to “get it” on a thinking level, and the intellect can then help recognize that in order to truly “get it,” you might need to experience the concept in your life on an unspoken, visceral level that is intuitive and internally tangible, rather than merely symbolic and conceptual (i.e. Experience an event on a level that transcends the very intellect that led you to even conceive of a conscious experience devoid of thought).
     Reducing “thoughts” to tools or machinations to be employed skillfully and intentionally makes sense if the evolutionary purpose of the ability to think relates to our effectiveness and survival in the material world. When meditating or really watching my mind closely I have been able to sometimes distinguish between my conditioned thoughts and reactions and see some evidence of a true “me” that underlies these trappings. However, when off the cushion, I tend to quickly slip back into “being my thoughts” rather than just utilizing and employing my thinking capacity. While difficult, I like the idea of pulling “thinking” off the shelf and using it as a tool in everyday life, while continuing to search underneath the thoughts for what truly inspires me rather than what I have been taught by others that I should seek to achieve.
     But I don’t think I have yet found a way to impassively watch myself as I’m thinking. It is instead a toggling back and forth between thinking and being. Nonetheless, I hope to at least eventually be able to merely note non-intentional and non-directed thinking with a simple “ahhh” and continue attending to what is actually occurring right then and there without the ancillary label of “oh, damn, I’m "thinking" once again” and the inevitable distracting dialogue about what it means to be thinking, when I’d like to just be “being.”
     This stuff sure is hard.
Thanks to all for this opportunity to share,
Bill