Buddhism offers a rich array of terms for describing subjective experience – what it is like to feel as though we inhabit a human body. Although scholars and practitioners have come a long way in translating Pali Buddhist terms – we are still in floundering in some cases. We either don’t fully understand what a term means, or we have an idea but cannot easily translate this into English. When reading Buddhist authors or listening to teachers using Buddhist terms, we must always consider what is said as a possible interpretation for us to consider.
Mindfulness & Clear Comprehension
Sati-sampajañña is a composite of two Pali words and is usually translated as mindfulness and clear comprehension. This suggests a state of mind where we are fully present, unconfused, bright, sharp. We are not dull, fuzzy, confused and bewildered. However, if we adopt this translation and this understanding, then we are proposing to pursue a specific set of desirable mind-conditions. It is desirable to be sharp, clear and present. But sati-sampajañña is not pointing at a desirable and static set of particular mind-conditions, it is a clear knowing of whatever states are present – so it transcends any particular state. We can clearly know that we are confused and fuzzy, or that we are bright and on-the-ball.
In order to confirm our conceptual understanding of the term sati-sampajañña – through direct experience - we have to look within. We learn to notice what is present in awareness without reacting to it – without buying in to mind contents. This is exercising a skill and requires patient persistence. Just as with any skill, regular practice is required.
Mindfulness is based upon an awareness of context – which is known through the mind-sense – as well as what is perceived through our five senses.
The Numinous
Rudolph Otto in his 1928 work – ‘The idea of the holy’ - talks about the ‘numinous’ – a sense of the holy. He is pointing to an intuitive feeling that transcends everyday discriminative thought and may range from mild to overpowering and can be characterised by words such as awe, mystery, rapture, epiphany, deep humility, oneness and belonging in the world, profound peace, or feeling overwhelmed and swept away by a powerful force much greater than oneself. For Otto this experience, or felt sense, is what he calls ‘numinous’ - the idea or experience of the holy.
Many people are aware of the numinous – either from the memory of a powerful ineffable experience – or as a quite frequent intuitive sense - which for some may be referred to by the word ‘God’. It is the persistence of this feeling of holiness that thwarts any rational resolution of the somewhat naive question of whether or not God exists. For many believers we are not speaking about a rational construct that has been arrived at by thought and reason and is open to doubt, but a felt intuitive sense.
I suggest that this felt sense - of something always present, but just behind (or transcending) our normal everyday thinking - is actually a good subjective clue to the way our brain works – our more recently evolved thinking and language based ability which deconstructs and analyses and is where our thinking self ‘lives’ (sometimes called the ‘ego’), works alongside older parts of our mind that deal in holistic perception, pattern recognition, ‘gut’ feelings, impulses, artistic perception, automatic responses, learned behaviour and strategic direction.
These silent parts of the mind – at least in analytical language terms - have a much more grounded sense of being at home in the world and automatically and very rapidly respond at times of threat or when we are exercising a well-practiced routine – like driving. We share this intuitive ‘grounded’ mode with our mammalian cousins. Our intuitive mind is incredibly good at holding and re-enacting previously stored (learnt) constellations of feelings, thoughts and emotions according to current context. When our survival is at risk, our intuitive mind inhibits our thinking mind incredibly rapidly and will usually control our behaviour. We might also include impulses, habits and instincts as forming categories of intuition, or at least of parts of our brain that are outside of direct conceptual control.
Some intuitive functions of the mind are normally inhibited by thinking - and low moods - and yet can never be entirely or completely silenced – they become more obvious when we are relaxed, off-guard, not thinking, or involved with physical activity, but cannot be controlled or known directly through language based thinking – intuition itself lacks a language based voice – but makes itself known through feelings, sudden insights, creative leaps, ‘aha’ moments – and impulses and emotions.
So we may be aware of a strangeness just beyond thinking awareness – something felt as larger and wiser than ‘us’ – or something big and frightening - that we get in touch with in a variety of ways, but which means that a transcendent belief such as the ‘God’ concept is never going to disappear (although maybe we can encourage a less broad and misleading term) since the experience that the word ‘god’ refers to is built into our subjective sense of the biological reality of our brain.
Our thinking self has difficulty with intuition. If we are substantially identified with our thinking ego – and this is automatic for most adults - we may try to dissect, model and control our subconscious mind – and we may be quite frightened of it.
For an accomplished, articulate and highly intelligent individual, being asked to let go of thought may seem frighteningly, maddeningly, impossible. And it is impossible to deliberately let go from a thinking perspective – if you keep thinking about letting go of thinking you are still just thinking: but it can be done through trust and ceasing to worry about it – this is letting go as a relaxation of the tension involved in thinking. Thinking is vitally important, but is tiring and rather like using a small torch to know the large darkened room that is reality.
When the thinking mind engages in modelling the numinous it may go wrong in various ways. The thinking mind may reify the numinous into a dogmatic ideology –‘one or more sacred things’ to try to protect – and project a conceptual framework onto the world – and Gods get invented as 'things' and invested with superhuman powers. The use of deities, other realms and anthropomorphism, is an attempt to use metaphor to model the holy and our subjective experience, and provided it is clearly seen as metaphor, can be useful. However, metaphor may lead to a spiritual materialism and a belief in piety whereby the sacred and holy is linked with things and appearances – what we wear, special behaviours, rituals, beliefs, attitudes, special elite groups of people, and so on.
But we can educate both our intuition and our discriminative consciousness, and we can develop the awareness that knows both intuition and concepts. Neither discriminative consciousness – thinking – nor intuition - are reliable, however, the suffering – dukkha – that the Buddha pointed to – is a product of the discriminative thinking mind, not the intuitive mind. However, this is not to raise up the intuitive mind as somehow automatically better and wiser, although a trained intuitive mind – trained through careful thinking, learning, behaviour modification and meditation practice – can embody wisdom.
In fact the gradual training of Buddhism is using our discriminative mind to apply a framework (for example the noble eightfold path) to our lives in order to re-condition our automatic learned responses – sometimes called impulses or instincts or habits – our intuitive mind – so that our rapid and spontaneous responses are in accord with what we understand as skilful, wise and virtuous behaviour.
Meditation practice is about gently quieting (or resting) our discriminative thinking mind and when we do this our shy, holistic, creative, intuitive mind may come out to play. This is always there, hovering behind the scenes, on the edge of awareness. Thinking, especially intensive thinking, inhibits our intuitive mind. But becoming familiar with our intuitive mind and resting our thinking mind does not mean that we believe intuition is always good and thinking bad – it is simply that we are rebalancing and re-grounding our awareness in a spacious mindfulness that knows both thought and intuition and the muddy ground between these.
Consciousness
Buddhist teachings describe consciousness in various ways; but what these seem to be pointing to is discriminative consciousness – the ability we have to recognise and name – and the conceptual thinking that uses recognition of name and form. There are many scriptural texts in the Pali Canon that refer to consciousness. One is:
Where do name and form fade out?
Where do earth, water, fire and wind,
And long and short, and fine and coarse,
Pure and impure no footing find?
Where is it that both name and form fade out,
Leaving no trace behind?
And the answer is:
In the awakened consciousness
This makes it clear that our name and form recognition system that categorises our experiences can be known through another underlying and spacious consciousness – the awakened consciousness. Buddhist practice encourages us to become aware of, and to reside in, this awakened consciousness and to come to know our discriminative and intuitive consciousness as abilities that operate according to conditions.
Chris Ward
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