Travel,
'Textures of Silence', Buddhism and Neuroscience
Greetings
from Bangkok, where I am briefly staying before starting my teaching
tour to Malaysia, Singapore, and on to Europe. I have only recently
uploaded a blog for February, but I will soon be quite busy teaching
and travelling, and so do not know when I will be able to send
another blog. Also, I wanted to let people know my schedule (attached
at the end) in case we are able to meet up somewhere in the world.
My
three-month stay at Wat Poo Jom Gom has been very rewarding in terms
of peaceful meditation practice. Especially during the last month I
was in quite good physical condition from many weeks of walking, the
weather was almost perfectly agreeable and the weeks of solitude and
regular practice allowed the mind to settle into some exceptionally
peaceful states – it does happen sometimes!
I
will now enter a more active and busy phase of practice, with quite a
few teaching engagements, travels and visits to various monasteries
and meditation groups. I will particularly miss my hour and a half
pre-dawn walking meditation from the hill-top cave to the monastery
hall. Since I usually have my most peaceful meditation early in the
mornings, I would normally stay in my lodging to continue with
practice. However, living at Wat Poo Jom Gom in a secluded cave some
distance from the main monastery requires me to journey down to the
hall to go on dawn alms-round.
The
walk down is a type of meditation like no other. I usually set off at
3:45 am, through the fresh, cool morning air wrapped in dark,
pre-dawn silence. Concentration meditation shifts from focusing on
the breath to focusing on the small section of path illuminated by
the tunnel of light from the headlamp. Mindfulness meditation shifts
to an increase in bodily sensations from the cool air, the careful
placement of each step on the uneven surface of the rocky path and
the different patterns of pre-dawn sounds: the rustling of dry leaves
in the breezes, the melodic patter of sandals on the path, the
occasion wild dog barking and the flowing symphony of thoughts and
textures of silence in the mind.
I
leave the cave before 4 am in order to have an unhurried pace. I can
thus relax the body so much (plus a modicum of fatigue from low blood
sugar after not eating for 20 hours) that it often feels as if I am
floating along the path. The mind can be so calm from several hours
of meditation, many hours of undisturbed solitude and the sensory
deprivation of the dark early morning, that the experience is
sometimes an exceptional meditation. On one occasion the mind was so
quiet that I came up with the insight: 'The silent mind is beyond
space and time, since the only space is 'here' and the only time is
'now''.
I
usually make several stops on the way, turn off the headlamp and gaze
at the star-filled sky. Every fourth or fifth viewing I see a
shooting star, and occasionally I can see a satellite silently
passing steadily through the darkness.
Textures
of Silence
I
refer to 'textures of silence' to designate the various forms of
silence (or quietude of mind). For example, the coarsest texture is
the sound of blood being pumped through the body and resounding in
the ear drum. The second coarsest texture is the higher-pitched sound
of 'ringing in the ears', which for some people has become annoying
tinnitus. Then there are various textures of humming or buzzing 'in
the head' when thought ceases. I sometimes refer to these as the
sound of 'hovering thoughts' (being the listener of thoughts) or 'the
sound of consciousness' (being actively conscious of the silence).
One
of the most interesting forms of silence is that arising from
absorbed awareness of physical sensations. This is interesting
because there is a collage of textures of silence, combined with a
variety of mental noise. If the sensations are extreme there is a
predominance of vascular sound, whereas if the sensations are very
subtle, the hum of no-thought predominates. Some sensations may of
course trigger mental reactions: memories, feelings of pleasure or
pain, emotions of liking or irritation, etc.
Wat
Poo Jom Gom is a place where I experience much physical sensation,
due primarily to living in such direct contact with heat, cold,
sunshine, wind and insects. During almost every waking moment the
body is continuously assaulted by a vast array of various sensations,
some pleasant, but many unpleasant. I almost always have some insect
bite which itches or stings, or there is an insect crawling on the
skin. Living largely unsheltered from the weather, I am continuously
aware of the varying temperature (fortunately not too much in
Thailand): the warmth of sun on the skin, the waves of heat-induced
sweat and the cooling or chilling gusts of wind. The main result of
this dominant awareness of physical sensation is that there is much
less mental activity (or at least less awareness of it), and thus it
seems that the mind is more easily able to settle into states of
quietude. Of course, this is also supported by many hours of
solitude, and perhaps by some degree of altered consciousness from
the extraordinary natural environment which, since it is something
with which I am quite unfamiliar, can often 'stop the mind' which
marvels at it. Also, as there are no stories, associations or
memories connected to the environment, the mind just stays at the
level of silently seeing it – it is just like this and not like
anything else.
On
one of the occasions when I had an especially quiet meditation, an
insight arose that really there is ultimately just nothingness. That
is, when the mind is totally quiet there is nothing there. It then
occurred to me how hard it would be to explain this, as most people
living in the midst of 'thingness' would not understand. This can
only be appreciated when we take into account the Buddha's teaching
of the principle of co-dependence or co-existence, that things arise
interdependently. Thus, in this situation, there is nothingness
because there is, at another level, somethingness.
Buddhism
and Neuroscience
Perhaps
the most important recent discovery of neuroscience is
neuroplasticity, that the brain is much more changeable then
scientists first thought. This ability of the mind to change is
succinctly expressed by the axiom: 'neurons that fire together wire
together'. This means that the network of neurons involved in
transmitting information changes depending upon the type of
information, and when that information is repeated, these networks
create habitual pathways. Thus the network of neurons engaged when we
repeatedly think positive thoughts begins to create regular positive
thought pathways, which encourage positive thoughts to occur more
easily and more frequently, until our personality may become more
optimistic.
A
number of psychologists have also made some valuable discoveries that
help support the Buddha's teaching on non-self. For example, Daniel
Kahnemann has explained some of the unconscious distortions and
biases to which the mind inclines in spite of the general view that
we are fully aware and in control of our interpretations and
decisions. Particularly insidious are 'priming effects', which occur
in the 'implicit' or unconscious memory where exposure to one
stimulus influences our response to another stimulus. In one famous
study students were unconsciously fed information implying old age,
and were then observed to act as if they were much older than they
really were! Also, of note are the familiarity bias, the confirmation
bias, the affect bias ('the emotional tail, wags the rational dog.')
and a number of others.
There
has also been some revealing research on the nature of memory (sañña,
in Pali), which is a common source of self-identification, supporting
the Buddha's teaching that it is intrinsically impermanent and
not-self.
Unfortunately,
due to the emphasis on studying brain activity, much brain research
inclines to what might be referred to as a materialistic view of a
human being. Thus, one researcher concludes that we are merely
ever-changing neural activity and no permanent 'self' has been found.
While at one level of understanding this is certainly true, at the
subjective level most people understand otherwise: We are not just
neural processes but much more. But what is that 'more'? My
reflection is that the 'more' is that this neural activity has
meaning
for us, which leads to deeper understanding and new ways of relating
to life.
A
related example may be music. On one hand it is merely
electromagnetic signals impinging upon the ear. Subjectively,
however, it is much more, in that it has personal meaning for us,
triggering subjective emotions, feelings, memories, etc. In Buddhist
psychology there is consciousness of sounds, which then condition
name-and-form: feeling, perception, intention, attention and contact.
These mental processes create a wide range of special meaning for us.
We are then conscious of these phenomena, which again condition
further name-and-form, which conditions further consciousness,
conditioning further name-and-form, in an ever-expanding web of
diverse experiences. At the physiological level we can say that these
are all just neural activities. However, subjectively they are much
more than that, and it is this meaningful subjective experience which
is what we call life, in spite of the objective neural undercurrents.
On
February 20 I gave a talk at the Buddhadasa Archive in Bangkok (BIA)
on the topic of Buddhism, and what modern brain research has learned
about the effects of Buddhist mind-training. This talk will
eventually be uploaded to the BIA website:
http://www.bia.or.th/en/index.php/online-dhamma/audio/tradition-of-ajahn-chah
Selected bibliography for those interested in further reading:
The
Emotional Life of Your Brain; Richard J. Davidson with Sharon Begley;
A Plume Book, 2013
Explains
the basic
Six
Emotional Styles and the results of his research on meditators.
The
Self Illusion; Bruce Hood, HarperCollins, Toronto, 2013
A
professor of developmental psychology explains the development of the
self illusion through our social upbringing.
Thinking, Fast and
Slow; Daniel Kahneman, Penguin Books, 2012
Explains the functioning
of the two systems of mental activity and how they are subject to
limitations confirmed by various distortions, biases and
non-attention to information.
White
Gloves: How We Create Ourselves Through Memory;
Kotre,
John, The Free Press, New York, 1995.
Self
Comes to Mind Damasio, Antonio, William Heinemann, London, 2011.
The
Brain That Changes Itself; Doidge, Norman, Penguin, 2008.
Buddha's Brain;
Hanson, Rick, New Harbinger Publications, Inc., Oakland, 2009.
Travel
Programme February to November 2017
Feb.
25-March 5: 10-day retreat at Sasanarakkha Buddhist Sanctuary,
Taiping, Malaysia
March
11-12: Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia
March
10: Day and evening retreat at Bandar Utama Buddhist Society: www.bubsoc.org
March
11: Talk at Cittarama, 8pm
March
12: Talk at Nalanda Buddhist Society
March
13: Talk at Subang Buddhist Society
March
16-20: Buddhadhamma Foundation, Singapore
March
18-19: Non-residential retreat.
March
21-28 Santacittarama, Italy
March
29 – April 2: Retreat in Paris, Terre d'Eveil; www.vipassana.fr
April
3 – 20: Wat Sumedharama, Portugal
April
11: Talk at Upaya Centre, Lisbon: upaya.pt
April
15 or 16: Thai New Year Ceremony, Bajao
April
21 – May 20: Dhammapala Monastery, Switzerland
May
3 or 10: Talk in Geneva
May
14: Vesak Ceremony
May
17: Talk in Bern
May
21 – May 26: Amaravati Monastery, UK
May
27 – June 20: Ratanagiri Monastery (Harnham), UK
June
10-17: Retreat at Kusala House, Ratanagiri
June
20 – June 28: Cork, Ireland
June
23-25: Non-residential retreat
June
27: Talk in Dublin
June
28 – July 6: Santaloka, Italy
July
6 – Oct. 20: Rains Retreat at Hartridge Monastery, Devon, UK
November
3: Arrival in Thailand
