Open presence meditation

The story in “On Buddhist meditation practice” about meditators not being startled by a tree trunk crashing or heavy hail falling reminded me of a chapter in Matthieu Ricard’s “Happiness.”

Ricard is a long-time Buddhist. He’s participated in scientific studies concerning the neurological correlates of meditation. I suspect that the subject he’s talking about is himself.

He says that the startle response is one of the body’s most primitive reflexes. It responds to activity in the brain stem and is usually not subject to voluntary control. “The stronger a person’s flinch, the more he is inclined to experience negative emotions.”

The researchers hooked up the Buddhist meditator to equipment that would measure his reactions. Ricard says, “The experimenters opted for the maximal threshold of human tolerance—a very powerful detonation, equivalent to a gunshot going off beside the ear.”

The subject was told that within five minutes he’d hear a loud explosion. He was asked to try to neutralize it. Hundreds of other people had taken this test. Nobody had ever been able to stop the startle response. Not even police sharpshooters.

But the meditator could. He’d been practicing two types of meditation: single-pointed concentration and open presence. The best effect, he found, came with open presence meditation. He said:

In that state I was not actively trying to control the startle, but the detonation seemed weaker, as if I were hearing it at a distance. In the distracted state, the explosion suddenly brings you back to the present moment and causes you to jump out of surprise. But while in open presence you are resting in the present moment and the bang simply occurs and causes only a little disturbance, like a bird crossing the sky.

It seems, Ricard concludes, that the meditator’s body registered all the effects of the detonation, but it had no emotional impact on his mind.

The meditator’s performance suggests remarkable emotional equanimity—precisely the same kind of equanimity that the ancient texts describe as one of the fruits of meditative practice.

Well, this is my mind of spirituality. Measurable. Discernable. Practical. Instead of pie-in-the-sky you’ll-be-rewarded-when-you-die religiosity, the best forms of meditative practice deliver results here and now.

Which is where and when, the concluding page of my well-thumbed “Zen Flesh, Zen Bones” tells me, we should be looking for whatever the hell it is we’re all searching for.

What is Zen? Try if you wish. But Zen comes of itself. True Zen shows in everyday living, consciousness in action. More than any limited awareness, it opens every inner door to our infinite nature.

Instantly mind frees. How it frees! False Zen wracks brains as a fiction concocted by priests and salesmen to peddle their own wares.

Look at it this way, inside out and outside in: consciousness everywhere, inclusive, through you. Then you can’t help living humbly, in wonder.

“What is Zen?”

One answer: Inayat Khan tells a Hindu story of a fish who went to a queen fish and asked, “I have always heard about the sea, but what is this sea? Where is it?”

The queen fish explained: “You live, move, and have your being in the sea. The sea is within you and without you, and you are made of sea, and you will end in sea. The sea surrounds you as your own being.”

Another answer:

Suppose I should leave the empty space as that. Or, rather, as That. But there’s always another answer, after another answer.

Today I came across a “Lost” poem by a fellow Salem, Oregon blogger. Burton says that he’s a cynical, sarcastic Presbyterian. Also, a non-traditional know-it-all who questions authority.

I’d say he has some Zen in him too. Nice poem, Burton.

For those who want to diminish the startle in their lives, here’s Ricard’s description of open presence meditation.

Open presence is a clear, open, vast, and alert state of mind, free from mental constructs. It is not actively focused on anything, yet it is not distracted. The mind simply remains at ease, perfectly present in a state of pure awareness. When thoughts intrude, the meditator does not attempt to interfere with them, but allows the thoughts to vanish naturally.

Comments

[Robert Paul Howard]

Dear Brian,
So: is your "mind of spirituality. Measurable. Discernable. Practical. ...[with] results here and now" the same/equivalent of "becom[ing]...light"? Such seems different from "non-phenomenal truth."
Robert Paul Howard

[Brian]

Robert, I see what you mean (I think). But it seems to me "non-phenomenal truth" and "measurable/discernable" aren't necessarily at odds.

Quantum mechanics is non-phenomenal. No one has ever sensed a quantum-level "entity" (I put that in quotation remarks to indicate that there even is debate about whether the quantum world has distinct "entities").

Yet quantum mechanics is highly measurable. In fact, the measurements there are amazingly precise. That's one reason why microchips work as well as they do (software, that's another question, as any Windows user can testify).

What I liked about the startle experiment is that it showed that a meditator doing something mysteriously unobservable can produce effects in the phenomenal world. This doesn't mean that consciousness or mind is material, but that the effects of such can be observed in interesting ways.

After all, spiritual/mystical types usually don't confine themselves to making statements about the realm of Mystery. For example, Sant Mat mystics like to say that mantra meditation (simran) is so powerful it can stop a moving train.

OK. Let's see it. Or if not a train, how about a small marble rolling across a table? Never has happened, so far as I know. So this is an example of a supposed non-phenomenal truth not having a measurable effect.

If spirituality doesn't leave any traces in the material world, what good is it for us as material human beings?

[Robert Paul Howard]

Dear Brian,
From what you indicate, it would appear that some "non-phenomenal truth[s]" are just delusional falsehoods. We seem forced back upon "judging a tree by its fruits" - i.e., "phenomenally." Lacking personal experience of it, then, I must reserve my suspicions about even the existence of "pure consciousness." I've only encountered consciousnesses of lesser dimensions/degree. And, frequently, some of them are "deluded."
Thanks again for your replies.
Robert Paul Howard

[Brian]

Robert, yes, it's difficult to imagine what "pure consciousness" would be like. I've never heard of a convincing description of this state, which probably doesn't exist.

I mean, a truly pure consciousness seemingly would have no duality to it. So, no one to be aware that a pure consciousness exists. Still, I like the idea, if only for aesthetic reasons. It seems to be the ultimate end point of what familiar human consciousness is--filled with all kinds of stuff.

Eliminate that and you're left with...what? Something beautiful perhaps. Or, I suppose some might say, the ugliest scariest nothingness: awareness without anything to be aware of.

Either way, it's a fascinating subject.

[tao]

Brian,

It is not so difficult: "pure consciousness" is simply consciousness itself. No "convincing description" need exist. Descriptions are merely thoughts and concepts which cannot possibly encompass the indescribable nature of consciousness itself.

Also, "truly pure consciousness" actually has "no duality to it". Duality is but a misapprehension due to identificaton with form.

You said: "so, no one to be aware that a pure consciousness exists". Pure consciousness IS existence and awarness itself...and not an individual 'someone'.

You also said: "...human consciousness is--filled with all kinds of stuff". I would suggest that consciousness itself is not "filled with" anything. It remains only as eternal and immaculate pristine awareness....unborn and boundless. "Filled with" and "stuff" is a dualistic point of view. The "stuff" that you speak of is more on the level of being a kind of transitory dream-like apparition. Just as a rope which is mistakenly perceived to be a snake. The rope is not "filled with" the snake. The snake is simply a misapprehension, an illusory appearance of mind, just as dreams are in the sleep-state. Consciousness alone is.

[Nick]

Brian
Tao has here outlined the 'state' of pure consciousness as realised by the great sages, such as Ramana, Shankara and so on.

They are all clear that such pure consciousness is the foundation of 'existence'.

I find it equally hard to imagine a world of pure objectivity with all sentience and mind stripped out. May I paraphrase you:

"It's difficult to imagine what "pure objectivity" would be like. I've never heard of a convincing description of this state, which probably doesn't exist".

Bishop Berkeley and David Hume thought that pure objectivity was likewise a fiction, and so the prevailing scientistic reductionistic materialist belief is rebutted.

[Edward]

I love the competitive edge in eastern spirituality. How long will it take the monk to dry the wet sheet in the Himalayan winter air? Can you still yourself until sound itself does not exist? My ego wants to hold its breath!

So impressive! So "benching 250," and as essential to the play of maya as the purely objective view of... oooh! donuts!

My ego wants to prove how spiritual we are through extreme detachment. My ego will relish the competition. My ego will not get enough and start betting on relative heart rates!

My ego is more detached than yours! Or mine!