The Conscious Process

“You are awareness. Awareness is another name for you. Since you are awareness there is no need to attain or cultivate it. All that you have to do is to give up being aware of other things — that is, of the not-self. If one gives up being aware of them then pure awareness alone remains . . .”

~Sri Ramana Maharshi

 For something to be “true” in the absolute sense, it must be true both now and always, independent of any transient conditions. Just so, there is no moment when the Truth cannot be true. Indeed, only the Truth is true, or Real. The Truth is Reality, and all else is imagination, illusion, impermanence.

Likewise, our “True Nature” or primordial state must be always and already real and ever-present, rather than something to be acquired through the strategic manipulation of methods, schemes, and circumstances, arbitrary fortune, gradual purification, or even beneficent Grace.

Only by a process of incorrect, or mistaken, identification do we assume a false as our actual nature and condition, giving birth to and sustaining the complex and stressful story of “me and mine”. This fundamental error in recognition is most commonly expressed as the belief and conviction “I am the body-mind-self”. It is as if the sky were to mistake itself as a passing cloud, and subject to its destiny.

By inquiring into our true nature and condition, we may see through any such identification with the false, and what then is revealed is not something new, but simply that which has always been the case: the Truth, the Real. The tacit assumption that there was an individual and concrete “I” who was operative in the field of experience is recognized as an error of judgment and appreciation — a case of mistaken identity.

The contemporary Dzogchen teacher Anam Thubten wrote this about True Inquiry: “Nirvana, or whatever you want to call it, means the complete deconstruction of all of our rigid mental patterns and habits as well as the deconstruction of all of our limiting beliefs. This deconstruction creates a space for true inquiry. When we open our hearts and our minds completely, we are in a place where we can experience something new, a new truth, a new reality, a miracle that we haven’t experienced in the past. We can see things differently and they present new, expanded opportunities, new horizons. Therefore an open mind is required. This is true not only in relationship to the truth but in relationship to everyday life as well.”

Some designate the direct recognition of the emptiness of the I-concept as “Realization”, but such terms are mere expedient concepts and do not ultimately exist in the Truth, or Reality. Strictly speaking, this recognition cannot even be called “Realization”, since that would imply the making real of what was not heretofore real. Furthermore, it would also infer that such a state can be attained through some sort of manipulation of energies and attitudes.

If it can be acquired, however, then it cannot be our True Nature, since in order to be True it must have been True originally and always, and not dependent on changing causes and conditions. Nor can it be called “Self-Realization”, since again, strictly speaking, even “Self” (not to mention “self”) is ultimately recognized via True Inquiry as a fantasy of interpretation on perception, empty of any inherent and substantial Person or person. What is, simply is. The tongue goes silent.

The direct recognition of our Original Nature and Identity (“our face before our parents were born”) is the purpose of True Inquiry, though again, it is not a technique to be employed in the accomplishment of some change of state, transcendental ascension, or mystical elevation. I have briefly introduced the subject of True Inquiry here, and so the aim of this essay will be to elaborate a bit further on the topic, in hopes of clarifying its actual practice and application.

When thoughts arise, the ego-mind automatically claims ownership of them, creating the sense that “I think”, “I know”, “I desire”, “I am the doer”. In reality, this ego-mind is itself nothing but a thought, the “I” or root-thought, which cannot exist independently from the phenomena with which it is identified. It strings together all other thoughts, emotions, memory associations, and perceptions to create the illusion of a separate person, an enduring entity in the form of the body-mind-self. It is precisely this mis-identification which serves as the source of all complications, and so True Inquiry consists of seeing through and letting go of this mental fabrication first and foremost by undermining its energy at the root.

Confusing the issue, most spiritual practices, traditional meditations, and various exoteric as well as esoteric methods are actually based on the presumption of the reality of the person — the seeker — who is undertaking these strategies (usually based on motives spawned from hope and fear). Such a presumption merely results in the reinforcement, confirmation, and validation of the “I”-thought, or ego-mind.

Such strategies may produce a variety of fascinating or blissful experiences, which nevertheless remain tethered to the sense of self. They can even serve to inflate that false identity-sense with the fictional narrative of a “someone” making progress, rising to a heavenly level of consciousness or triumphant personal illumination. Moreover, whatever original insight may have actually occurred invariably gets subsequently buried under an avalanche of conceptual fabrications and conditioned fantasies of interpretation.

Many would-be gurus and aspirants get entangled in various dreamy, idealistic scenarios stemming from the primal mis-perception of the archetypal heroic seeker traversing the spiritual path to “Enlightenment”, when in reality they are only digging themselves deeper into storyland. In any case, such practices cannot culminate in true Recognition because the “I”-thought is not penetrated.

In Buddhism, for example, Shamatha alone, or calm abiding, may produce some peaceful feelings and a quiet mind, but unless it is married to Vipashyana (insight into the illusion of independent selfhood), it will not amount to True Recognition. Such Recognition is also called the Unity of Samadhi (one-pointed concentration) and Prajna (Wisdom).

In its application, True Inquiry begins by bringing relaxed and effortless attention to the essential nature of mind itself. As Tulku Pema Rigtsal suggests: “Do not pay any attention to thoughts or to whatever arises in the mind, but instead examine where the thought or the image comes from, where it abides, and where it goes. If we do this for long enough, we will discover that all thought forms are empty and that there is nothing substantial in the mind. Keep the mind in its own place, unmodified and without distraction, at ease in its state of clear naked emptiness. Do not attempt to stop the mind and do not follow it.”

In order to “kick-start” this focus, the question “Who am I?” is sometimes employed, not as a mental riddle or mantra, but as an expedient prompt to turn attention back on itself, to the source of mind itself — where the “I”-thought first arises. It is essentially a matter of being aware of being aware — the heart essence of primordial consciousness.

As Khenpo Tsewang Dongyal Rinpoche notes: “A powerful way to unveil the primordial ground of being is to ask yourself, “Who am I?” […] The ground of awareness is the essence and source of your being. When you ask yourself ‘Where is my mind? Who am I? What is mind?, who is doing the asking?’ You are looking within, and you are discovering the state of clear and open emptiness. This is rigpa, the mind’s nature.”

It should be clear then, that True Inquiry does not represent some form of intellectual puzzle-solving, or attempt to grasp the mind essence through resort to the mind. Nor is it a strategic effort to change one’s state, but actually quite the opposite. It entails the surrendering of all fascinations and fixations which obscure the recognition and appreciation of the natural state – the Mind of Clear Light.

If this relaxed but focused attention is distracted by other thoughts, one can simply return the mind to rest in its natural state, naked radiant awareness itself, free from the discursiveness of the intellect. When the clarified attention is concentrated on this heart essence of awake awareness to the point that transient or provisional identifications cease to arise, then the ego-mind will be unable to fixate on phenomena/objects, particularly if that subjective attention is pursued to its end.

As the great Adept Dudjom Rinpoche suggested: “Take your stand on the ultimate practice of the heart essence — samsara and nirvana are the display of awareness. Without distraction, without meditation, in a state of natural relaxation, constantly remain in the pure, all-penetrating nakedness of ultimate reality.”

Likewise, Sri Nisargadatta echoed that suggestion when he said: “Abandon every attempt. Just be. Let go of every support. Don’t strive, don’t struggle. Hold on to the blind sense of being, brushing off all else. This is enough.”

One common misconception about True Inquiry is that it involves some kind of conceptual exercise entailing the rejection of all thought objects and perceptions as “not-self”. In traditional Advaita Vedanta practices, for example, this method is called “Neti Neti” (not this, not this), which is a process or form of analytical deconstruction.

Again, the problem here is that the ego-mind is still sustained by this intellectual approach, since the very “I”-thought which would eliminate or refute all other forms of identification as “not-I” cannot eliminate itself. In fact, the Truth can never be grasped by the discursive mind, either through affirmation, negation, or any strategy of subtle analysis and conventional inquiry, but only in its dissolution does the Real emerge from the silent background in the space between thoughts and shine as the transparent awake awareness of the Natural State.

The great Zen Patriarch Bodhidharma noted: “If you use your mind to study reality, you won’t understand either your mind or reality. If you study reality without using your mind, you’ll understand both.”

Likewise, when asked, “It is said that [Truth] is beyond the mind and yet the realization is with the mind. The mind cannot think it. It cannot be thought of by the mind and the mind alone can realize it. How are these contradictions to be reconciled?”

Ramana Maharshi responded: “[Reality] is realized with mind devoid of thoughts and turned inward. Then the mind sees its own source and becomes that.”

When the perception of all objects, both physical and mental, cease via the correct application of True Inquiry, the individual “I”-thought will be unable to hold its dominant position. Starved by lack of attention and confirmation, it will eventually become obsolete, falling back into its source and disappearing there. In its place True Recognition will shine forth, and once seen, the Truth cannot be unseen.

As the Dzochen Adept Jigme Lingpa wrote: “The location of the truth of the Great Perfection is the unfabricated mind of the present moment, this naked radiant awareness itself, not a hair of which has been forced into relaxation. Maintaining this at all times, just through not forgetting it even in the states of eating, sleeping, walking, and sitting, is called meditation. . . Just by not forgetting the nature of one’s own awareness — the kind that is not a tangled mindfulness that gets more tangled in order to be mindful — at some point the unelaborated ultimate truth, transcending terms and examples, will appear.”

Ultimately, and even now, only Awareness pertains, the same aware spaciousness that has always been the case, except that we have temporarily been beguiled by the energetic illusions of the self-sense, imagining that “I”-thought to be who and what we are. In fact, what we truly are is that which is aware right now. It is not at the end of a long journey, or waiting for us at some mountain top. It is closer than our own heartbeat, and we cannot be other than it.

The great female Adept Ayo Khandro proclaimed: “Whatever arises in the mind, the awareness of that, the presence of that state of whatever arises is itself rigpa (the innermost, essential nature of mind). This is not a concept but it’s a direct experience, that kind of presence or awareness. It’s beyond any concept. One continues to remain beyond concept and one continuously finds oneself in this knowingness or presence.”

Once the obscuring impediments and distractions have been seen through and released to some extent, the practice, if it can be labeled as such, is simply to not fall back to sleep. For most, because we have been so habituated to a pretense of identification with this or that fictional narrative, the full embodiment of such revolutionary Recognition will usually require a period of integration in terms of bringing life-level behaviors and relationships into alignment, but once our true nature has been recognized, it cannot be forgotten again.

In any case, there is no place to tarry along the way, since the truth of our Spirit is infinite expansion, even beyond any human comprehension. As Dogen Zenji noted, just as there is no beginning to enlightenment, so too there is no end to practice.

“The only true and full Awareness is Awareness of Awareness. Until Awareness is Awareness of itself, it knows no peace at all. Is it not because you are yourself Awareness, that you now perceive this universe? If you observe Awareness steadily, this Awareness as Teacher, will reveal the Truth.”

~Sri Ramana Maharshi

See also:

True Meditation: Recognizing Basic Sanity

I am going to begin this consideration with an extended quote from the book “Cutting Through Spiritual Materialism” by the late Chogyam Trungpa, an influential Buddhist teacher who was instrumental in introducing Tibetan Vajrayana Buddhism to the West:

“As long as we follow a spiritual approach promising salvation, miracles, liberation, then we are bound by the “golden chain of spirituality.” Such a chain might be beautiful to wear, with its inlaid jewels and intricate carvings, but nevertheless, it imprisons us. People think they can wear the golden chain for decoration without being imprisoned by it, but they are deceiving themselves. As long as one’s approach to spirituality is based upon enriching ego, then it is spiritual materialism, a suicidal process rather than a creative one.

All the promises we have heard are pure seduction. We expect the teachings to solve all our problems; we expect to be provided with magical means to deal with our depressions, our aggressions, our sexual hang-ups. But to our surprise we begin to realize that this is not going to happen. It is very disappointing to realize that we must work on ourselves and our suffering rather than depend upon a savior or the magical power of yogic techniques. It is disappointing to realize that we have to give up our expectations rather than build on the basis of our preconceptions.

We must allow ourselves to be disappointed, which means the surrendering of me-ness, my achievement. We would like to watch ourselves attain enlightenment, watch our disciples celebrating, worshipping, throwing flowers at us, with miracles and earthquakes occurring and gods and angels singing and so forth. This never happens. The attainment of enlightenment from ego’s point of view is extreme death, the death of self, the death of me and mine, the death of the watcher. It is the ultimate and final disappointment. Treading the spiritual path is painful. It is a constant unmasking, peeling off of layer after layer of masks. It involves insult after insult.

Such a series of disappointments inspires us to give up ambition. We fall down and down and down, until we touch the ground, until we relate with the basic sanity of earth. We become the lowest of the low, the smallest of the small, a grain of sand, perfectly simple, no expectations. When we are grounded, there is no room for dreaming or frivolous impulse, so our practice at last becomes workable. We begin to learn how to make a proper cup of tea, how to walk straight without tripping. Our whole approach to life becomes more simple and direct, and any teachings we might hear or books we might read become workable. They become confirmations, encouragements to work as a grain of sand, as we are, without expectations, without dreams.

We have heard so many promises, have listened to so many alluring descriptions of exotic places of all kinds, have seen so many dreams, but from the point of view of a grain of sand, we could not care less. We are just a speck of dust in the midst of the universe. At the same time our situation is very spacious, very beautiful and workable. In fact, it is very inviting, inspiring. If you are a grain of sand, the rest of the universe, all the space, all the room is yours, because you obstruct nothing, overcrowd nothing, possess nothing. There is tremendous openness. You are the emperor of the universe because you are a grain of sand. The world is very simple and at the same time very dignified and open, because your inspiration is based upon disappointment, which is without the ambition of the ego.”

Upon reflection, many of us who shopped around and patronized the various spiritual supermarkets that sprang up during the historical “Baby Boom” coming-of-age years in the West can relate to the hard wisdom expressed in the above excerpt. On the other hand, perhaps many of us are still living under the spell of the promise — the promise of enlightenment, redemption, salvation, or even just a better, richer, more desirable lifestyle – woven and cast by this or that guru, text, or teaching that convinced us we could change ourselves into something better, more powerful, happier, more peaceful, wise, and lovable.

After spending 7 years studying for the priesthood in a Roman Catholic Seminary, I finally became utterly disillusioned with that religion and its apparent fraudulence and so went off to live as a hermit in the Sierra Nevada mountains. A friend had given me a small pamphlet on Zen Buddhism before I left for the hills, and while living in a small tent by a river, I read and re-read that pamphlet and contemplated its implications. This extended consideration provoked a number of epiphanies that gave me a taste of a whole new way of looking at the world, as well as my place in it. I felt as if I had truly found my spiritual calling, after years of floundering in somebody elses’ limited idea of what spirit is really all about.

When I finally returned to San Francisco in 1970, I delved into two seminal books on Zen Buddhism that would serve to exemplify a particular paradox, and one that would take me years to resolve : “Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind”, by Shunryu Suzuki Roshi (a transplanted Japanese master), and “The Three Pillars of Zen”, by Phillip Kapleau (an American teacher trained in an austere Japanese Zen monastery).

In a nutshell, Suzuki’s manual spoke of practicing Zen with “no gaining idea”, no artificial motivation to have things be other than they are. For Suzuki and his lineage of Soto Zen, the very act of assuming the formal posture in seated meditation (Zazen) was itself “enlightenment”, and so attempting to “achieve” enlightenment through fabricated strategies and methods would be comparable to adding another head to the one we already have. The meditator simply sits still, relaxed and alert, but without fixation, interference, or identification, as the stream of thoughts arises and passes away. This of course is by necessity an over-simplification, but that is the gist of it.

On the other hand, Kapleau’s book spoke in glowing terms of the absolute necessity to attain “kensho”, a first step to enlightenment, consisting of a mystical, transformational glimpse of one’s “original nature”. In order to acquire this glimpse, or “awakening”, Kapleau suggested that one needed to submit to an almost militaristic regimen of marathon meditative endeavors, focusing all of one’s life and attention on answering “koans”, which are enigmatic cases drawn from dialogues between historic Zen characters that resist any intellectual resolution. This focus on koan work and kensho is characteristic of the “Rinzai” school of Zen, as opposed to the Soto school mentioned previously.

The sense of personal dilemma that ensued resulted from alternating back and forth, attempting to be free of self-centered notions of attainment, but desperate to achieve some breakthrough in consciousness that Kapleau and his ilk assured me was necessary to gain entrance into the real and authentic Zen club and reach the critical state of liberation. A seed had been planted in my head – if I wanted to be free from the suffering entailed in being born into this human condition, I needed to become someone different than I ordinarily am. I had to become a “Knower”. In other words, I had to get “Enlightened”.

The inherent wisdom of Suzuki’s school sounded reasonable, but the lure of some magical experience of “Satori” touted in the Rinzai school was much stronger. It would be years before I was able to recognize that I was embarking on a quest to become what I already am and have always been. Apparently, I needed to chase my tail for several decades before finally realizing that was exactly what I was up to when I left my previous life behind and entered into a Zen monastery, and from there continued on for years with gurus and purported wise guys, pursuing the big “E”.

As great non-dual sage Nisargadatta Maharaj noted: “Unless you make tremendous efforts, you will not be convinced that effort will take you nowhere. The self is so self-confident that unless it is totally discouraged it will not give up. Mere verbal conviction is not enough. Hard facts alone can show the absolute nothingness of the self-image. “

As long as I perceived myself to be a separate and enduring person, there was no way that I was going to be deterred from the search. Lingering in the background, there would always be the comparative mind insinuating that, if I only studied the right teaching, sincerely practiced the right strategic method, and discovered the right Spiritual Guide, I could become free, happy, wise, special, sanctified, and gracefully relieved of the chains that accompanied this human life.

Such was the “kool aid” I had swallowed, along with countless fellow boomers who were equally seduced by the promise of divine transformation being sold in the spiritual marketplace that had emerged in the West during the latter half of the last century. The almighty “Me” project was born and given legitimacy by a seemingly endless parade of swamis, roshis, lamas, and various home-grown variations of smiling and mostly well-meaning path promoters who each offered their own particular snake oil remedy for whatever spiritually ailed us, and we were happy to lap it all up in ashram temples, satsangs, monasteries, churches, and diverse holy gatherings (where financial donations and even sexual favors were gratefully accepted to further the general betterment of the lifestyle conditions of said teachers, masters, and gurus).

Certainly, I am not the first to point this all out, and in fact numerous books, articles, and journals have been published detailing the whole adventure we collectively undertook, from the streets of the Haight Ashbury to the Himalayan caves, and so this essay is really presenting nothing new about the phenomenon that has not already been discussed and analyzed and critiqued over the years. However, for those who are following along here, perhaps there might be some sense of resonance that will help shed light on their own process in this regard, particularly in relation to inspecting their own ambition, and recognizing that trap for what it is.

If we stay true to our spiritual path, regardless of sect or denomination, we may eventually come to a place where nothing works anymore, and we face a veritable stone wall which we can’t go over, under, or around by employing our intellect or force of will. That wall is actually a mirror. Our ambition will have led us here, and our various practices may have supported us on the search, but eventually we will find ourselves in a kind of “check-mate”, as one commentator put it.

At such a critical juncture, all of our pretense must drop away, all of our willfulness, so that we are left naked and exposed to the “hard facts” that we have heretofore been layering over with good intentions and hopeful projections of spiritual grandeur awaiting us upon “enlightenment”. Interestingly enough, it is only with that disenchantment that we can become truly available to real transformation.

For most seekers, our fondest wish has been to be gloriously present at our own Awakening, and thus we may discover to our shock and dismay that such an awakening from the dream of a substantial and independent self involves the literal death of our most cherished concepts and self-images — the death of our spiritual ambition. As it so happens, very few are willing to face that daunting prospect. The tremendous humility required for such a confrontation with one’s own fundamental emptiness is a gateless gate that challenges and undermines the raison d’etre of personal ambition.

Despite our insistence on wanting to be free, when push comes to shove, what many of us really wanted was some exciting and marvelous experience that we could claim for ourselves, accompanied by the enviable status of having gotten IT, perhaps even sporting cool powers and arcane talents – an Enlightened Ego, in other words. We were expecting some special revelation that in turn would grant our prideful self-sense an enduring and elevated validity and confirm our position as an advanced being.

The last thing we ever wanted, despite protests to the contrary, was to see the whole house burn down to the ground. Nevertheless, that is exactly what the fictional narrative of our “spiritual me-story” consists of – a flimsy house of cards – and its only relevant destiny, if we are to truly snap out of the trance of identification with being a needy seeker and assume our natural freedom, is submission to the consuming bonfire of our every vanity.

From that “place” of our original innocence, prior to the stressful adventure of seeking, we can relax more and more into the transparent spaciousness of awake awareness — that which is most true of us. By returning attention again and again to such open natural knowingness that is ever-present beyond any need for acquisition or attainment, what’s discovered is the self-liberated primordial sky of one’s own being in which all thoughts, desires, and self-images arise and dissolve like passing clouds on a warm summer day.

Resting in the simple innocence of awake awareness, we notice that our ambitions have been nothing but thoughts. Our desire for things to be different than they are, is just a thought. Our belief in some special state of enlightenment is just a thought. Every idea or image we might have of ourselves is just a passing thought. Our regrets about the past and projections about the future are mere thoughts. Indeed, whatever arises is nothing but a mental fabrication, a projection of mind that has all the solidity of smoke. Investing attention in any of it is only indulging in day dreaming. When such investments cease, there is no longer any energy fueling the machine of distraction, and thus, as the poet Ryokan so eloquently wrote, “Like the little stream making its way through the mossy crevices, I, too, quietly turn clear and transparent.”

“No ambition is spiritual. All ambitions are for the sake of the ‘I am’. If you want to make real progress you must give up all idea of personal attainment. The ambitions of the so-called Yogis are preposterous. A man’s desire for a woman is innocence itself compared to the lusting for an everlasting personal bliss. The mind is a cheat. The more pious it seems, the worse the betrayal.”
~Nisargadatta Maharaj

See also:

https://theconsciousprocess.wordpress.com/2012/11/26/the-myth-of-enlightenment/

https://theconsciousprocess.wordpress.com/2012/09/26/experience/

https://theconsciousprocess.wordpress.com/2012/12/28/self-improvement-projects-2/

http://travelsindreamland.wordpress.com/2012/09/26/in-the-sanzen-room/

There is no “You” or “I,”
no object to contemplate,
no contemplation!

Everything is
That lost in
That.

The blind theologians
didn’t understand.

Then they saw,
and their seven levels
of attainment dissolved
to nothing.

~ Lalla

One traditional developmental model addressing the various progressive stages of human/spiritual adaptation that some aspiring practitioners have found useful as a theoretical reference is the “seven-stages” paradigm of maturation leading to “liberation” in human form. Of course, successive awakenings to deeper and deeper levels of awareness beyond the self-contraction, and subsequent embodiment of such realizations, do not occur in a linear fashion. There is usually a lot of overlapping and flip-flopping back and forth between levels as we strive to rise above our various delusions and false views about reality and discover our true nature and identity within the totality.

No conceptual framework is ultimately true, but as a provisional expedient, the seven stages model may have something to offer as a general path guide. Regardless, working and studying with a qualified master teacher is by far the better way for most aspirants to determine the quality, depth, and breadth of their ongoing development in the so-called “spiritual” arena, and so avoid the common pitfalls of misjudgment and vanity that plague those who rely solely on their own self-assessments.

As a note of acknowledgement: a coherent version of this developmental model was first brought to my attention in the mid-1970’s via the writings of the controversial American author Franklin Jones (1939-2008), and because they still strike me as both brilliant and relevant (and despite the fact that, in his later years, the fellow fell victim himself to some of the very traps he had once warned about), I have incorporated some of his early insights in regard to human spiritual development into the following essay. The 7-Stage model itself has been around in various forms for centuries, and in fact it corresponds in many ways to the 7-Chakra system in Tantra, an ancient esoteric understanding of the evolutionary energy complex of the human body-mind.

The first three stages of life are representative of the stages of ordinary human growth and social adaptation from birth to the threshold of adulthood. They are the stages of physical, emotional, and mental development, occurring in three periods of approximately seven years each (until approximately twenty-one years of age). Every individual who lives to an adult age inevitably adapts (although, in most cases, only partially) to the first three stages of life.

Stage One—Individuation: The first stage of life is the gradual process of adapting to life as a separate individual no longer bound to the mother and dependent on her as the food source. This whole stage of life could be described as an ordeal of weaning, or individuation.

Substantial physical growth and learning occurs in the first stage of life, as one begins to manage bodily energies to explore the physical world. Acquiring motor skills is a key aspect of the first stage of life, learning to walk and talk and perform the necessary functions required for the basic upkeep and maintenance of the host form.

If the first stage of life unfolds as it should, the separation from the mother completes itself in basic terms. Nevertheless, there remains a lingering tendency to struggle with and even resist this simple individuation. Every human being tends to associate individuation with a feeling of separation, a sense of disconnection from love and support. That reaction is the dramatization of the self-contraction in its earliest form and will characterize most people for their entire life, manifesting in endless varieties of neurotic maladaptation, unless they are able to awaken to their true nature, prior to identification with their human host body and its personality.

In terms of eschatological orientation, one fixated at this early stage of adaptation commonly hopes to be “saved”, redeemed, or blessed by an external Supreme Parental Deity figure, who, it is believed, will intervene if properly petitioned to “make things right” (based upon one’s conditional concept of rightness), assist in the attainment of desirable effects such as wealth, health, and political victories, and generally watch over the chosen either directly or through appointed angelic agents to insure hopeful outcomes.

In the Abrahamic religions, the Parental Deity is imagined to be a super powerful male – God the Father – who is typically to be feared and obeyed, and who metes out just punishments on those who swerve from the laws He has handed down from His Divine Abode through His various prophets, now typically represented by the priest castes (be they Jewish rabbi, Muslim cleric, or Christian bishop).

In Hinduism and various polytheistic models, the Ultimate Parent Deity is projected as a Divine Mother figure, with all the nurturing maternal qualities associated with the role, although She too can get pretty fierce, in Her darker form of “Kali” for example. As the Divine Feminine aspect, She is the Subject of elaborate devotional gestures and endless rituals of praising and petitioning, in order to acquire favor and fortunate regard.

Even in Buddhism, which does not require worship of some ultimate deity figure, there are still numerous supernatural characters who fill the parental role, such as the Bodhisattva of Compassion (Quan Yin/Avalokitesvara), to Whom the faithful resort in devotional programs and petitions for well-being and good fortune.

Many of the “New Age” philosophies are little different, and merely substitute a concept of an idealized “Universe” for the Father or Mother Deity. Nevertheless, as long as we are living with the presumption that the universe is some kind of wish-fulfilling machine, external to us, and in charge of our destiny, we will always remain in the position of powerlessness. As our perspective matures, we come to realize that the universe and us are not two, and it is we who are co-responsible for the whole thing. We are not solely on the receiving end, in other words.

Regardless of nominal religious affiliation, those fixated at this first stage tend to cling to and depend on some version of an external parental deity to meet their religious/emotional needs, and curiously enough, have often waged wars in the name of their parent deity of choice, and ostracized, tortured, and killed those who fail to properly acknowledge their chosen Divine parent.

Stage Two — Socialization: Between the ages of five and eight years one begins to become aware of the emotional dimension of existence —how one feels and how others respond emotionally assume great importance. This is the beginning of the second stage of life, the stage of social adaptation and all conditioning programs that go with it. During this time the themes include a growing sense of sexual differentiation, an awareness of the effects of one’s actions on others, and a testing of whether or not one is loved and personally validated as an independent person.

With the arising of greater emotional sensitivity, there is also the  tendency to become fixated in chronic patterns of feeling rejected by others, and rejecting or punishing others for their presumed un-love and failure to confirm our idealized self-image. The drama of rejecting and feeling rejected is the primary sign of incomplete adaptation in the second stage of life, and it is both here as well as in the third stage where the emotional/sexual contraction most commonly takes root. I speak at more length about this knot at the heart, particularly in The Game of Rejection and Sadness – The Wound of Love and as it relates to certain contemporary spiritual practices, in Zen and the Emotional/Sexual Contraction.

Stage Three—Integration: During the teen years, the third stage of life becomes established. The key development of this stage is the maturing of the ability to use mind to conceptualize and discriminate, leading to the exercise of will. On the bodily level, puberty is continuing (having begun during the later years of the second stage of life) with all its attendant bodily and emotional changes.

The purpose of the third stage of life is the integration of the human character in body, emotion, and mind, so that the emerging adult becomes a fully differentiated, or an autonomous sexual and social human character. If the process of growth in the first and the second stages of life has proceeded unobstructed by conflicted messages and neurotic resistance, then this integration can take place naturally. If, however, there have been failures of adaptation in the earlier stages, such as a chronic sense of being separate, rejected, or unloved, and consequent difficulties in relating happily to others, then the process of integration is disturbed, and fixations on dysfunctional attitudes and behaviors assert themselves.

The religious counterpart to this life stage may include a complete rejection of the parental deity figure, along with a general questioning and suspicion of all parental religious values, perhaps resulting in an embrace of atheism or agnosticism, infused with various forms of pseudo-scientific materialism, or even hedonism as a reaction to perceived parental strictures.

Indeed, for most humans, the process of the third stage of life becomes an adolescent struggle between the conflicting motives to be dependent on others and to be independent of them. This adolescent drama tends to continue throughout adult life, and is a sign that the work of the third stage of life was never completed. The truly mature adult, characterized by equanimity, discriminative intelligence, heart-feeling, and openness to the new, tends never to fully develop, although a nominal adaptation to the first three stages of life is usually acknowledged by twenty-one years of age.

The first three stages of life are the “foundation stages”, as Jones notes, because the ordeal of growth into human maturity is essentially a preparation for something far greater — true spiritual awakening, and ultimately, Liberation. This greater process begins to flower in the fourth stage of life on the basis of a profound conversion and opening to love.

Stage Four — Spiritualization: The leap to the fourth stage of life is a transition that very few are prepared or disposed to undertake. It is nothing less than the breakthrough into a spiritually-illumined life of Divine recognition and heartfelt compassion, and one generally oriented towards selfless service. Historically, such lives are elevated in the consensus judgment to the level of sainthood.

How does such a life become possible? Typically, it is inspired by a heart-awakening so profound that the common human goals — those concerned with satisfying craving for “worldly” pleasures and avoiding hardship and pain — lose their force and attraction. The motive for one established in the fourth stage of life is based on devotion to a deep and persistent intimacy with what mystics call “the spiritual Heart”, an intimacy that is real and ecstatic, and which changes one’s vision of the world. Everything that appears, everything that occurs is now seen as a process full of Divine Presence. Stabilizing in this stage of life is generally considered the summit of realization achieved in the traditions of Judaism, Christianity, Islam, and much of Hinduism, and is most uncommon in this world.

However, the fourth stage of life, though it represents a profound and auspicious advance beyond the foundation stages, is truly only the beginning of real spiritual growth. Despite breakthrough moments of Unity Consciousness that may occur, as well as a dramatic relaxation of the core emotional contraction that characterizes the usual person’s life and relations, the primary error of judgment and appreciation in the fourth stage of life is the dualistic presumption that God and the individual soul are inherently separate from one another.

The Divine is the intensely attractive “Other” with Whom one communes and in Whom one may become ecstatically absorbed at times, even to the point of consuming union. Nevertheless, such raptures pass, and one is left with the continuing hunger for the “Beloved”. The individual being is still taken to be a separate and independent self, still fundamentally contracted and thus still searching, even though the goal of seeking is “spiritual” in nature (as opposed to the craving for gross satisfactions of money, food, power, and sex).

Stage Five — Higher Spiritual Development: The fifth stage of life could be described as the domain of accomplished Yogis — individuals involved in the pursuit of “Enlightenment” through mystical experiences, exotic brain phenomena, and the acquisition of psychic powers. Just as very few religious practitioners fully awaken to the Divine Communion enjoyed in the fourth stage of life, even fewer would-be Yogis actually achieve the full fruits of fifth stage Realization.

The important difference between the fifth stage of life and all the stages of life that precede it is that awareness on the gross physical plane is no longer the normal mode of existence. Rather, attention is constantly attracted to phenomena associated with the subtle realms – the dreamlike or visionary regions of the brain. The energy of awakened “Kundalini” moves along the subtle nerves from the base of the spine, up through the ajna chakra (also known in mystical literature as the “Third Eye”), and beyond the crown of the head. At its point of highest ascent, the yogic meditative state traditionally called “Nirvikalpa Samadhi” (“formless ecstasy”, in which all awareness of body and mind is temporarily dissolved in the absolute bliss of Self-Recognition) is activated. This profoundly ecstatic state is regarded as the summit of Realization in most esoteric yogic schools.

This dissolution of body and mind is a direct demonstration to the yogi that the apparently separate self has no enduring substantiality or significance, and that only the radiant condition of absolute freedom and peace truly exists. Even so, a limit remains. This great Samadhi, the culminating achievement of the fifth stage of life, is fleeting. At some point bodily consciousness returns, and so does the ache to renew that boundless, disembodied bliss. Fifth stage conditional Nirvikalpa Samadhi, for all its profundity, is achieved on the basis of a subtle stress, a subtle self-contraction. It is the ultimate fruit of the yogic strategy to escape the body by directing one’s awareness upward into infinite Light. Moreover, as Ramana Maharshi notes: “Even though one practises Kevala Nirvikalpa Samadhi for years together, if one has not rooted out the vasanas [karmic residues] one will not attain liberation.”

When this process has completed its work, a great conversion has occurred in the human body-mind. One is no longer seduced by the fascinations of visionary experience, even when such experiences arise in the brain. Neither is one moved to direct one’s attention up and out of the body into the infinitely ascended state of “formless ecstasy”. Rather, the “tour” of mystical experience is revealed to be simply more of the futile search to become completely satisfied and fulfilled, based on the stress of the self-contraction. When that whole pursuit of mystical attainments relaxes, the aspirant may then be drawn beyond all habits of identification with bodily states and even beyond the subtle mind states of the fifth stage of life into a pristine understanding of Reality as Consciousness Itself.

Stage Six — Awakening to the Transcendental Self : In the sixth stage of life, one is no longer perceiving and interpreting everything from the point of view of the individuated body-mind with its desires and goals. Rather, one assumes the detached position of “Witness” to all that arises, and even though continuing to participate in the play of life, there is a disinterest born of dis-identification with any personal vanities or worldly concerns. It is the domain of the reclusive sage found in certain schools of Hinduism, Buddhism, and Taoism.

The sixth stage of life may include the experience of Jnana Samadhi, which, like fifth stage conditional Nirvikalpa Samadhi, is a form of temporary and conditional Realization of one’s “True Self”. However, fifth stage conditional Nirvikalpa Samadhi comes about through the strategy of ascent, the urge to move attention up and beyond the body-mind, while in Jnana Samadhi, awareness of gross and subtle states is excluded by concentration in formless Transcendental Self-Consciousness (the formless Brahman of Advaita Vedanta, for example).

The Awakening in the sixth stage of life represents a profound revolution in consciousness. Such Realizers discard the fascinations of experience, transcending the gross entanglements of the early stages of life, as well as the subtle attractions of devotional (fourth stage) rapture and of Yogic (fifth stage) mysticism. Instead, the Sages of the sixth stage of life have traditionally contemplated the spacious freedom and luminous, refined purity of their own innate awake awareness.

Nevertheless, even deep resting in the freedom of Transcendental Consciousness is not complete liberation in human form, for the aspirant has not yet penetrated to the essence of mind, nor resolved all lingering traces of emotional contraction at the heart. There is still a very subtle stress of identification at play, a lingering dualism between formlessness and form persists, and so there is still one last fixation to be released.

Sixth stage practice is expressed by turning within, away from all conditional objects and experiences (including the movements of energy and attention within one’s own body-mind), in order to concentrate upon the radiant Source of individual consciousness beyond name and form. Thus, the root of the self-contraction, the core story, is still alive. Mind has let go of everything, everything except itself.

Due to a fundamental delusion about its own nature, the seeking mind still continues, albeit in its most primitive form, to superimpose a fantasy of interpretation on perception called “the True Self”. However, no matter how clear, radiant, and knowing the experience may seem to be, it is still subject to fluctuations, still susceptible to conditionality. Moreover, the one who is enjoying this glorious condition still remains, obstructing final liberation. When both self and world are directly recognized as mere conceptual designations, and every single trace of one’s conditioned reality dissolves in the blaze of unconditional love, then no barriers remain. As it so happens, the one who would be free was the only one standing in the way of true liberation.

Stage Seven — Liberation: It represents release from all the contracted limitations of the previous stages of life, and the end to the core story of “me and mine”. It is the stage of completion in human spiritual development, and is traditionally pointed to in Tibetan Dzogchen Ati Yoga and Chan (Zen) Buddhism, as well as by the great and rare Realizers who transcend all schools and sectarian affiliations. Remarkably, the seventh stage Awakening is not an experience at all. The true nature of everything is simply obvious “as it is”. What is, simply is. This fundamental Awake-ness has been called “Open Eyes”, or “Sahaj Samadhi” – the natural state.

Form is no longer perceived to be different than emptiness, emptiness is not other than form. Beyond the sixth stage, any perception of dualism, even at the most subtle level, collapses. No longer is there any need to seek meditative seclusion in order to realize perpetual identification with Reality, or Union. Reality and you are not two, nor have they ever been. There has never been a single moment when everything was not pure perfection. It’s not that everything has finally arrived at a state of purity, but rather that it always was, is, and will be. It was only our temporary case of amnesia that obscured this simple realization. There had never been any separation to begin with. The whole adventure has been a dream journey all along.

When one is finally able to turn their attention around without distraction and thoroughly recognize mind for what it is, all fixation and false identification dissolve in what has been described as the “Great Death”, although paradoxically, it is not an event in time that happens to “me”. All sense of self or Self are instantly recognized as transparent fantasies of interpretation on perception, leaving the natural mind (awareness of the present moment) without any contraction or urge for modification in its open and relaxed simplicity.The essential emptiness of both self and world becomes spontaneously apparent. Any vestiges of the emotional contraction at the heart are dissolved, as the poisons of greed, envy, pride, hatred, and ignorance are effortlessly transmuted into wisdoms, and the boundless compassion of Awakened Mind becomes spontaneously activated. In that regard, one indication that such enlightenment is true of one is that all that is left of them is love.

The open spacious transparency of awake awareness recognizes itself — our true nature knows itself — without boundary or limitation. Both bondage and liberation, samsara and nirvana, are seen as mere conceptual designations in the radiant shine of unfettered mind. A tacit realization that pertains here is that all arising phenomena, including one’s own mind, are manifestations of the great natural perfection, inherently empty and marvelous as it is, and consequently, “with the ending, fading out, cessation, renunciation, and relinquishment of all construings, all excogitations, all I-making and mine-making and obsession with conceit, one is, through lack of clinging/sustenance, released.”

~ Aggi-Vacchagotta Sutta

See also: https://theconsciousprocess.wordpress.com/2012/09/26/evolution-of-consciousness/

“What will you do when you cannot do anything, when all your best intentions and great endeavour are invested to no avail whatsoever, when all you do is doomed to fail?”

~Hisamatsu

We’ve all heard the old saying that “the road to hell is paved with good intentions”. This can most clearly be seen in the various idealistic crusades which humans have embarked upon over the ages (both personally and collectively), only to have them result in even greater and more complex troubles then those that they were intended to fix.

A fitting metaphor of what has been called “idiot compassion” is exemplified in the tale of the monkey who had the grand notion one day that he should “be of help”. Consequently, as he set about on his mission through the forest, he came upon a fish swimming in a pond. Pitying the creature, he lifted it out of the water and placed it in a nook between the branches of a nearby tree, in order to save it from drowning. He then went happily on his way, pleased with himself to have done what he considered a good and helpful deed.

Even with the sophisticated technical diagnostic tools now at our disposal, we are still incapable of predicting the twists and turns that may result from our actions. The Buddha himself once noted that the effort to try and figure out the varied permutations of cause and effect could drive one insane. What’s clear is that this human life is characterized by a kind of paradox: we are here, we are alive in this world, and so we must act. However, our actions invariably result in entangling complications which create more and more strands in a karmic web that in turn binds us.

Moreover, this web-building has an exponential quality that can stymie even the best minds and hearts, since even the most altruistic preference leads to craving, which leads to suffering. Essentially, we are always acting from an ignorance based on attachment and identification, deriving conditional solutions which stem from provisional values and conditioned assumptions that have a habit of turning around and biting us.

This being the case, how can we make our way in the world without becoming trapped in a sticky web of our own action/reactions, of our own selective points of view that are drenched in accepting and rejecting, biased opinion, and limited vision? Upon inspection, it becomes evident that the only way to remain unbound by one’s actions is to perform them with real detachment, without fixating on the anticipated results, or fruits, of our activity, and especially without making it “personal”.

Developing non-attachment in all of our activities and duties does not mean non-action — standing aloof while the suffering world passes us by. Non-action itself has consequences. Non-doing is not the same as non-action. As the Korean Zen Adept Kusan Sunim explains: “When deluded people look inside themselves, they will find there are things to be cultivated and to be gained. Therefore, they make a great effort to practice. But as soon as they have completed what they set out to do, they realize that there was nothing really to have been done. Thus, the true Dharma involves non-doing. All things that are done will finally cease. Thus the Dharma of doing is the false Dharma. But everything that you do – which, in reality, is non-doing – constitutes eternal truth. Such actions will not cease even though you attempt to be finished with them. In this world all people look for the Dharma of doing, that is, for some thing. But the true Dharma is to look for the Dharma of non-doing. This is truly extraordinary.”

Nor does non-doing and non-attachment imply renouncing our work and relations; on the contrary, it simply means acting without leaving a trace. This is the essence of “non-dwelling”. It is refraining from identification with a separate and independent self-idea, a doer. There is only action acting, only doing is doing.  In the profound Buddhist treatise Visuddhimagga, Buddhaghosa wrote: “There is no doer but the deed. There is no experiencer but the experience. Constituent parts alone roll on. This is the true and correct view.”

Prior to the direct recognition of the emptiness of both self and other, we take it for granted that we are the doer, the actor, the person behind the drama, somehow making it all happen. However, once we awaken to how things really are, we know there is no personal entity at work. Actually, this insight typically provokes a good bit of laughter, and a great sense of relief!

We recognize that the ongoing narrative of “me and mine” is something extra we’ve been adding by habit and conditioning to all experiences — a complex mental fabrication which typically only complicates and obstructs direct action. What happens is that this I-concept, rather than being recognized and utilized as an expedient linguistic tool and navigation aid in the objective world, is instead granted a concrete and enduring reality, thus establishing the grounds for identification and fixation – in other words, “traces”.

Non-dwelling (as a component of clear seeing, or true meditation) is the practice of leaving behind no trace of a fixed self – no lingering thoughts, goals, desires, attraction or aversion – the chains that bind. It is characterized by the relinquishment of any selfish motivation whatsoever in our activities. It transcends all grasping positions spawned by the belief in the “me and mine” story. It consists of simply acting directly with spontaneity and focus, unburdened by conceit, fantasy, hope, or fear, and without clinging to some personal stake in outcomes.

As Shunryu Suzuki notes (in Zen Mind, Beginners Mind): “In order to leave no traces, when you do something, you should just do it with your whole body and mind: you should be concentrated on what you do, You should do it completely, like a good bonfire. You should not be a smoky fire. You should burn yourself completely, like a good bonfire. If you do not burn yourself completely, a trace of yourself will be left in what you do. You will have something remaining which is not completely burned out.”

In other words, to be truly liberated from attachments and act fluidly, we must be willing and able to let go of everything – all of our most cherished positions, concepts, and self-ideas, and plunge fearlessly into the Unknown, where true freedom alone abides. By practicing true meditation, we can begin to detach and mindfully observe, rather than habitually and impulsively reacting to events and circumstances.

As the Tibetan Master Jamgon Kongtrul Rinpoche wrote: “Why chase after thoughts, which are superficial ripples of present awareness? Rather look directly into the naked, empty nature of thoughts; then there is no duality, no observer, and nothing observed. Simply rest in this transparent, nondual present awareness. Make yourself at home in the natural state of pure presence, just being, not doing anything in particular.”

Upon sincere and persistent investigation, we can recognize the various temporary and compounded images that we have taken ourselves and others to be, are essentially fictional narratives. In other words, if we are earnest, we have the potential to (re)awaken to our true nature, rather than remaining a slave to borrowed and uninspected beliefs about ourselves and the world, and merely prolonging our sense of stress and dissatisfaction.

Nisargadatta Maharaj spoke to that when he taught: “There are no conditions to fulfill. There is nothing to be done, nothing to be given up. Just look and remember, whatever you perceive is not you, nor yours. It is there in the field of consciousness, but you are not the field and its contents, nor even the knower of the field. It is your idea that you have to do things that entangle you in the results of your efforts — the motive, the desire, the failure to achieve, the sense of frustration — all this holds you back. Simply look at whatever happens and know that you are beyond it.”

Rather than trying to change the world that we perceive through our conditioned filters, the practice of non-dwelling, non-attachment, and non-identification allows us to humbly be changed by our experience of it, to the point where we can joyfully recognize our natural function in the midst of life and relations, without the superimposition of a concrete and enduring self-idea. Indeed, there is a curious assumption that, without holding on to a self-idea, one would become dysfunctional, when in fact, it is the self-idea and its attendant drama that more often than not complicates straightforward and unfettered functioning.

Rather than rendering us dry, contracted, and withdrawn, the process of directly seeing through the fantasy narrative of the “me-story” releases a burden that chronically anchors us. That burden is composed of all the doubt and ambiguity which constricts our ability to freely respond with both wisdom and compassion to whatever circumstances arise. When we are no longer weighed down by past regrets or future expectations, not to mention the excess heaviness of personal self-interest, we can be intensely present and available to “what is”, right here and now, and act accordingly, in harmony with the universal Tao.

“Simply let experience take place very freely, so that your open heart is suffused with the tenderness of true compassion.”
~Tsoknyi Rinpoche

See also:

https://theconsciousprocess.wordpress.com/2013/01/07/the-practice-of-non-dwelling/

True Meditation: Recognizing Basic Sanity

http://travelsindreamland.wordpress.com/2012/09/26/pagan-babies/