Tag Archives: Selflessness

Who are you?

Posted on by

This seems to be a straightforward question, and one we have all answered countless times in our lives. We each have a personal story we know by heart and repeat often. It usually begins with the time and place of our birth, and where we went to school, and is followed with what we do for a living, if we are married or have any children, and so forth. Depending on who we are telling our story to, details about our interests, experiences, political views, religious affiliation, and retirement plans may be added to give a more complete picture. In our society, such sharing of personal information seems satisfactory and accurate to most everyone.

While such facts may be conventionally relevant, from the perspective of the world’s wisdom traditions they have nothing to do with your true nature. In the Buddhist tradition, for example, a question that teachers often pose to students is: “What is your original face before your grandparents were born?” This koan, or paradoxical riddle of sorts, insinuates a reality far deeper than the surface characteristics with which most people are preoccupied. It bypasses all the demographic data, everything we have learned, the personality we have developed, all the wealth we have amassed, and the many accomplishments we so eagerly show off. The perceived content of our lives is given no quarter in this question, and for that reason its meaning is beyond the reach of most who try to fathom it. But once our personal stories are dropped and our perceived importance forgotten, we can see that this ancient query is directing us to what we are, to what is—to life itself.

We are born of two mothers, given existence in two radically different ways. Our actual mother is life, and we are conceived in the human womb and nursed with the milk of wholeness. Our virtual mother is language; we are conceived in the thoughts and words of our people and nursed at the breast of our cultural and intellectual heritage. Ever after, we struggle with the conflicts and confusion that have plagued us all since our species learned to divide up what is and give names to its separate parts. The key to our spiritual dilemma is not to find God, but to find our true Self—to solve the riddle of our conflicted existence and to return to wholeness.

Vipassana

Posted on by

When I began my spiritual quest almost two decades ago, I was unsure what direction to go. I knew I needed a practice, for it was already clear to me that reading and the teachings of others were limited in what they could do. I sought a practice that was proven, one that had passed the test of time. Vipassana, the form of meditation that the Buddha taught, was a logical choice. With a precision that rivals the controls modern science implements to attain valid results, this ancient science of the mind is so exact that for millennia incalculable numbers of practitioners have been able to generate the same results through their practice. While such practice does not produce spiritual realization, it can help us see through the false ideas that blind us to the truth.

Vipassana practice is based on mindful awareness, which means paying bare attention—bare of judgment, decision, or commentary—to what is happening to us and within us during every moment of experience. Progressing through a series of exercises under the guidance of an experienced teacher, we systematically examine every facet of what we believe our “self” to be. Observing how thoughts rise and fall on their own, for example, with no volitional participation helps the seeker to realize that they are not “his.” With practice and refined skills, we are able to discern that the self we construct out of form, feelings, perceptions, thoughts, and consciousness has no foundation in reality. One by one, the assumptions that have so long supported our erroneous belief in a permanent, independent self, are found to be groundless. What we always thought we were gradually dissolves like a cloud in the rays of the sun. Once we actually see this truth about the nature of experience, it becomes apparent that there is no abiding entity to be found.

Picture a piece of Swiss cheese. It typically has holes of all sizes and shapes in it. In your mind’s eye, pick out one hole. Notice its characteristics. Maybe it is bigger than the others around it; maybe it is deeper. It has existed since the cheese was made. Now imagine eating this piece of cheese, slowly nibbling away at the area surrounding the hole. Watch what happens. The hole slowly disappears. When all the cheese is gone, the hole is gone too. Where did it go? It was there a minute ago. You saw it, and even distinguished it from the others. But as you can see, in the truest sense, there never was a hole. There was only a relationship between the cheese and empty space. By labeling your perception, you created a concept of “hole” and gave it a sense of reality. This is exactly what happens with the self, or ego. The concept of “self” is given substance by the label we affix to a relationship between elements that are not the self—form, feelings, perceptions, thoughts, and consciousness. When we study this relationship carefully in vipassana meditation, we can see that there is only consciousness rising and falling with its objects. The ego is a construct, but not a reality. Now you see it, now you don’t.

You are not what you think

Posted on by

When we are born, our vision is fresh. The world as we first experience it is undifferentiated and timeless, and we have no real perception of self or other. We can see the magic of life without filters and become totally lost in fascination, one with our surroundings. But when we are educated, taught language and the lessons of good and evil, our vision becomes restricted. We start to see the world through the dualistic filter of concepts, with the grid of borders and boundaries it superimposes on everything. The holistic wide-angle lens view of our birth is transformed, and our vision refocuses on the sharply defined piecemeal view of reality that makes up our modern culture. While life as we know it would not be possible without language and concepts, and our very survival depends on them, we forget that they are only tools. The map is not the territory, but conceptual habits become unconscious assumptions that automatically frame our reality. We live within the confines of a hand-me-down view of the world that everyone around us shares, and we never even suspect the possibility of seeing in another way.

The process of identification with self is initiated by our parents when they name us and, in effect, tell us who we are. As we grow up, the idea is reinforced and endlessly repeated at every age and in every setting. Whenever we meet new people, for example, from kindergarten to retirement, introductions begin with our names. As if the enculturation of language were not enough, our sense of identity is further solidified by an extensive paper trail, beginning with our certificates of birth. With each year, more documents accumulate around us: school records, medical histories, credit reports, legal agreements, tax statements—just to name a few. As adults, whether we are making a purchase, visiting the doctor, casting a vote, or doing any number of other common things, we are routinely asked to show proof of who we are. The process goes on and on, and we unquestioningly identify with this separate, limited and vulnerable self.

The relationship between self and the wholeness of our true nature can be compared to the way clouds can block our view of the sky. The clouds represent the egos we parade through life: some are large and impressive, others meek or insignificant. Some have beautiful forms that capture our interest, and others flaunt the power of their dark, threatening thunder. Behind the play of these numberless, ever-changing forms lies a sky forever the same. This unchanging presence symbolizes the Absolute, the truth behind all phenomena, and we can see it clearly only when the clouds have drifted away. With us it is no different. Only when our concepts of what we are dissolve in realization, can we begin to see the truth so long obscured.