Turn on, tune in, or drop out?

I came of age in the 60’s, so “turn on, tune in, drop out” resonates with me. But now I’m more interested in exploring the spiritual, rather than psychedelic, implications of these words.

It’s always dangerous to reduce complexities to dualities. But I’m always ready and eager to try. It seems to me that most spiritual seekers are either turn-on’ers or tune-in’ers. I belong to the latter camp, so if my description of these options seems to favor tuning, that’s the reason.

Tune-in’ers are trying, obviously, to tune in to something. God. Spirit. Cosmic truth. Ultimate reality. Buddha nature. Tao. Pure consciousness. Whatever they call it, it’s capable of being contacted. Right here, right now.

That big It often is considered to be all-pervasive, omnipresent, foundational. There’s no getting around it. Or over it. Or under it. It’s the essence of all that exists, so the problem doesn’t lie in locating it. It’s in attuning oneself to the divine presence.

This can happen in many ways. Meditation. Mindfulness. Love. Compassion. However it happens, somehow the consciousness of a tune-in’er is transformed into a receiving set for a more meaningful station of reality, sort of like changing the channel from MTV to PBS.

Turn-on’ers, by contrast, consider that divinity can’t be perceived without a cosmic switch being thrown to the “on” position. And that can’t happen from our end. It requires the hand of a mediator, someone who intercedes for us and produces enlightenment where before there was only endarkenment.

Jesus, for example. Or a guru, angelic presence, avatar, master, goddess, spirit guide—believers put their trust in many personages who, they hope, are capable of lifting a fallen soul to the spiritual heights. Often all that is required is faith in the intercessionary power. To believe is to be saved.

Now, tuning-in is a much more scientific approach to seeking the Meaning of It All than is turning-on. Scientists don’t pray, “Laws of nature, please manifest yourselves so we can discern your presence.” No, they assume that reality is always there to be realized.

In other words, the truth is out there. It doesn’t play hide and seek. Those with the eyes to see, perceive it. Ultimate reality isn’t standing in the dark with a finger on the light switch, waiting for a spiritual seeker to utter the right words. “Abracadabra.” “Namu abida butsu.” “Jesus Christ, have mercy on me.” “Open sesame.”

Today I had an urge to clean up several bookcases. I took a look at the many religious, mystical, spiritual, and philosophical books sitting in my office and an extra bedroom. I got a queasy feeling.

Many of them meant nothing to me anymore. They were relics of bygone days. My turn-on days. My devotional days. The days when I envisioned that a Big Guy Upstairs was watching over me and was going to press my spiritual elevator’s “up” button.

Sometime. Any time now. Soon, for sure. Still waiting. No problem. Got plenty of time. Button will be pressed. Upper floor of consciousness will appear. Sometime. Any time now.

Fuck it. I’m taking the stairs.

The turn-on books are sitting in stacks on the floor. I’ve got to decide whether to store them, sell them, or give them away. They don’t interest me anymore.

I’ve always been a tune-in’er at heart. But for various reasons—laziness, longing for a father figure, whatever—there’s been a devotional turn-on’er side of me that hasn’t sat comfortably with my scientific tune-in’er side.

On an organizational level, the same tension is evident in the Sant Mat group, Radha Soami Satsang Beas (RSSB), with which I’ve been associated for many years. I was attracted to the goal of attuning one’s soul with spirit, a.k.a. surat shabd yoga. Yet I also was repelled by RSSB’s teaching that this could only happen when the guru wants it to.

That struck me as anthropomorphic, unscientific, and fundamentalist. Christianity in another form, really. Instead of Jesus taking on your sins, the guru does. And you don’t move an inch on the spiritual path until the guru changes the stop light to green.

Consider these quotations from the July 2006 issue of “Spiritual Link,” the RSSB magazine:

This you have to understand, that you are nothing, but all belongs to the Master.

Without the Master we cannot make spiritual progress and without us he will not shower his grace.

So when the Master is in a good mood and he is ready to shower more grace on you, will you be ready, or will the opportunity pass you by?

The Master is the mediator between God and us—he knows what pleases him.

No one can leave this “land of slaves” without a Master. We cannot even begin our journey home until we have found one and received initiation from him.

All we need to do is trust and obey him.

Well, maybe. But I’ve read a lot of science books. And I’ve never heard it said, “To find out the truth about reality, all you need to do to trust and obey scientists.” No, what you have to do is study reality. Scientists can point the way to truth, but they don’t turn truth on or off for your benefit.

Trying to tune in to reality makes a lot of sense for me. Hoping that someone else will turn on reality for me doesn’t.

Of course, there’s another option. Drop out. Sounds appealing. As the linked article says, "Consciousness will always be one degree above comprehensibility."

Comments

[Robert Paul Howard]

Dear Brian,
I believe I grasp your characterizations of "tune in" and "turn on," but I don't grasp how "drop out" (as illustrated/indicated [?] by the article) is to be understood. Might you give some further clarification? Robert Paul Howard

[Brian]

Well, Robert, I agree that "drop out" is more difficult to grok than "tune in" and "turn on." I Googled my way around the Internet for a while, exploring how others had used the term "mystical (or spiritual) drop out."

The Zen researcher, Austin, came up several times in reference to a statement that Zen seeing-clearly-now occurs when thoughts drop out of the mind.

Advaita and other mystic practices speak similarly. This seems to be different from tuning in or turning on, but maybe it isn't. Zen and Advaita point toward a pathless path, a sudden opening, a zap! that isn't this or that, tuning or turning.

As I've observed before (I think), Rumi said something like, "When you get to the other side, all you'll be able to say is 'I didn't know it would be like this.'"

Conceptions drop out like an elevator that suddenly snaps its cable when real reality makes an appearance.

[if_eye_onlyhad_abrain]

Your Rumi Quote:

"When you get to the other side, all you'll be able to say is 'I didn't know it would be like this'."

I wonder if there is just one side to the other side?

I also wonder if it is some place one "gets to".

I also wonder if there is any one who really gets there just to turn around and remember it here and write: "I didn't think it would be like that"

[Edward]

Rumi is fairly cagey, unusually so, in this fragment: will it be different, or the same; and is that why I am surprised? We also have on good authority that “before enlightenment, chop wood, carry water; after enlightenment, chop wood, carry water.”

I love to quote from Donovan, “First there is a mountain, then there is no mountain, then there is,” particularly daring for its state-of-being participle, dangling there, over the abyss.

The striving for enlightenment reminds me of the promise of heaven. If I act correctly, whether that has moral, dietary, or neurological implications, I will achieve… well, what do I want? What will the universe I experience be like when it is different?

I am glad to reject the idea that anything will change beside my orientation, that there is a promised land/head space in any of the books or lectures. The eternal is already happening. It is my confusion that leads me to decide this is not the perfect existence. I love my confusion!

Getting to learn, and feel, and sleep; all of us are in this, participating in the always-being-created. The surety that this life is not enough happens as the surety that there is no other way of being happens, simultaneously.

I got the message today that my now and your now, Rumi’s now and Meister Eckhart’s now, are the same now. What a wonderfully complicated confusion! I never need to know the end. I can’t ever point to, “this is my ignorance, and over there is where I had a spiritual experience.”

The language allows us the duality, but the menu is not the meal. All perceptions firing at once, all the tools in full swing, complicit in the, oh, you know… thingy.

[A friend]

I'm from the same generation as you, 1971 initiate. The problem with your writing and your lack of spiritual progress is that your ego has totally taken over and you’re mind is running amuck. You have what I call “Little Guru Syndrome”. You want to be the Guru; however, you are not the Master; you are the disciple. Please stop posting every thought that crosses your muddled mind and use that time for simran instead. In order to have a spiritual experience and hear the sound, you have to first actually attend to your spiritual practice; you have to be there. Some of us do hear the sound and have had spiritual experiences. But that doesn’t come from words or reading, it comes through spiritual practice, as a gift. Since you don’t have any personal knowledge of the path, only what you read in books, quit speaking on the subject. You obviously have no idea who or what your Guru is. Kind regards

[Brian]

Dear Friend, thank you for telling me so much about myself. That was a real gift. Wow! What a fool I've been. For so many years I've been trying to understand myself and the nature of reality from the inside of my consciousness.

Now I realize that all I need to do is attend to the wise advice of those like you, who, after reading what I write on my weblog, know me better than I know myself. Again, thank you from the depths of my unknowing heart.

That said, my out of control ego still can't resist commenting on your comment. Are you aware that I still spend most of my waking hours either in actual meditation, or attending to my simran (mantra)?

Also, are you aware that I spent 35 years attending in every detail to the mystic practice that you praise? I wasn't sure of this, because you said that I "don't have any personal knowledge of the path."

Hmmmmm. I was pretty sure that the person practicing for those 35 years was me. But it seems that I was wrong. Perhaps you could enlighten me as to who was having those personal experiences of the Sant Mat path, if it wasn't me.

It must be wonderful to know the truth about the cosmos as well as you do. I hope very much that you will share more, either through additional comment(s) or via an email(s) to me. There's so much I'm curious about.

Please, tell us who or what the Guru is. And tell us about your personal experience that has led you to this knowledge. Be specific. I gather that you have heard the sacred sound and have had spiritual experiences.

You shouldn't keep this gift to yourself. Enlighten we endarkened as to what we can expect when we are able to see the light.

I'm also curious about how you were able to write your advice to me about stopping writing every thought that crosses my muddled mind, focusing on my mantra instead. Do you have any thoughts of your own? Can you write while focusing on your simran?

I'd like to know how you do this, because no matter how hard I try, when I think about what I want to say, there always are thoughts in my head. Again, it must be wonderful to be able to set me straight on what I'm doing wrong without thinking thoughts yourself.

I mean, since you're so adamant about using every spare moment for repeating a mantra, I have to assume that you practice what you preach and wouldn't have taken the time to post a comment on this blog if this distracted from your spiritual practice.

Well, my last thought (damn! there I go again!) is that you're so far beyond me in mystical knowledge I feel deeply grateful that you're willing to speak with someone so deluded as me.

I look forward to the day when I possess the qualities of humility, love, and non-judgementalism that you so obviously enjoy in abundance. Sadly, that day is not yet here for me.