[this is a repost from my personal blog explanationing.wordpress.com. Look there for posts explaining my priors.]
Our conscious experience of the world is tuned to the level of detail that our mind deems most important to our continued survival. We experience shapes, colour, depth, size, velocity, et cetera. Anything that would be useful in tracking a deer, climbing a tree, spotting a mountain lion. This world of solid objects, heat, light, and sound, is eminently comprehensible.
However, we know that it is only part of the picture.
Our experience of a body of water changes profoundly when we analyze it at the level of fluid dynamics, or molecules, or quarks. The same is true when we analyze it at the level of the water cycle, or meteorology, or geology. Any given object of experience may be understood at different levels of analysis. These levels bleed into one another, and seem to extend from our baseline perception of objects in all possible conceptual directions.
In the 19th century, while the scientific consensus held that matter is made of particles, humanity at large was still struggling with the idea. It’s easy to imagine the difficulty people had bridging the gap between this novel level of analysis and their intuitive view of a world. Up until that point, for most people most of the time, objects were exactly as they appeared. Rocks are made of rock, full stop.
Taking consciousness itself as the object of analysis leads to the same difficulties. Compelled by force-of-habit so deeply ingrained that it manifests in our physiology, it is difficult for most people to see beyond their usual approach to consciousness. In the west, this level of analysis talks about the Self and Choice.
A more robust understanding of psychology and neuroscience can provide some sparse furniture for further levels of analysis. However, consciousness can only be fully understood from within. Exploration of one’s own mind is required to get a full picture of the most significant levels of consciousness adjacent to the level of Self. This sort of exploration is laborious and unintuitive for anyone, let alone those unpracticed in any serious contemplative traditions.
This is why most people have to take it on trust that there is a level of analysis wherein the Self is completely absent, let alone that it is possible for anyone to inhabit the No Self just as completely as they inhabit the Self.
Consider again the example of particle theory. Over the last couple centuries, it has become common knowledge. However, while the vast majority of people can tell you that matter is made of particles, very few can tell you what the world of particles look like. It takes a lot of conceptual modelling, practical experience, and intuitive understanding to experience the world of particles in a way that approaches the truth of the matter. The difference between declarative knowledge and intuitive knowledge (interchangeable with “grokking” and “insight”) cannot be understated.
Consciousness is no exception. It is one thing to know that the Self is optional. It is another to be able to be intimately, intuitively familiar with the experience of No Self.
While my grokking of No Self has been improving, I still often feel as though I am only seeing its shadow. However, I think that I have a sort of compass pointing me towards No Self, if not an actual map. That compass is “unasking the question,” “ungame,” or “mu.” It is the act of noticing the level of analysis you are currently taking for granted as reality, then of stepping out into a different level.
Of course, when it comes to a level of analysis as deeply ingrained as the Self, this is far easier in theory than in practice.
Noticing that I am experiencing the world as though I were a Self is hard enough as it is, because I am so used to being a Self. However, the Noticing becomes easier and easier as I become more acquainted with the nature of Self through meditation.
The Stepping into No Self is hardest of all, because my consciousness only has a dim sense of where to go. I feel like a blind man searching with my foot for a stone underneath rushing river water. Even if sometimes my toes grazes a hard edge, I am either to afraid or too unskilled to take the step.
It’s a work in progress.
P.S.
The language of “levels” of analysis might seem hierarchical. I do not mean it in this sense. One of my deepest intuitions is that no level of analysis is more true than any other. I have the sense that many contemplative traditions disagree with this intuition. Most significantly, No Self is often privileged over Self. I do not see any reason why this should be inherently true. Even if it were often instrumentally true, I don’t see why it should be so in all circumstances. My intuitions about ethics and consciousness identify No Self as only one valid move among many in the game of consciousness.
[this is a repost from my personal blog explanationing.wordpress.com. Look there for posts explaining my priors.]
Our conscious experience of the world is tuned to the level of detail that our mind deems most important to our continued survival. We experience shapes, colour, depth, size, velocity, et cetera. Anything that would be useful in tracking a deer, climbing a tree, spotting a mountain lion. This world of solid objects, heat, light, and sound, is eminently comprehensible.
However, we know that it is only part of the picture.
Our experience of a body of water changes profoundly when we analyze it at the level of fluid dynamics, or molecules, or quarks. The same is true when we analyze it at the level of the water cycle, or meteorology, or geology. Any given object of experience may be understood at different levels of analysis. These levels bleed into one another, and seem to extend from our baseline perception of objects in all possible conceptual directions.
In the 19th century, while the scientific consensus held that matter is made of particles, humanity at large was still struggling with the idea. It’s easy to imagine the difficulty people had bridging the gap between this novel level of analysis and their intuitive view of a world. Up until that point, for most people most of the time, objects were exactly as they appeared. Rocks are made of rock, full stop.
Taking consciousness itself as the object of analysis leads to the same difficulties. Compelled by force-of-habit so deeply ingrained that it manifests in our physiology, it is difficult for most people to see beyond their usual approach to consciousness. In the west, this level of analysis talks about the Self and Choice.
A more robust understanding of psychology and neuroscience can provide some sparse furniture for further levels of analysis. However, consciousness can only be fully understood from within. Exploration of one’s own mind is required to get a full picture of the most significant levels of consciousness adjacent to the level of Self. This sort of exploration is laborious and unintuitive for anyone, let alone those unpracticed in any serious contemplative traditions.
This is why most people have to take it on trust that there is a level of analysis wherein the Self is completely absent, let alone that it is possible for anyone to inhabit the No Self just as completely as they inhabit the Self.
Consider again the example of particle theory. Over the last couple centuries, it has become common knowledge. However, while the vast majority of people can tell you that matter is made of particles, very few can tell you what the world of particles look like. It takes a lot of conceptual modelling, practical experience, and intuitive understanding to experience the world of particles in a way that approaches the truth of the matter. The difference between declarative knowledge and intuitive knowledge (interchangeable with “grokking” and “insight”) cannot be understated.
Consciousness is no exception. It is one thing to know that the Self is optional. It is another to be able to be intimately, intuitively familiar with the experience of No Self.
While my grokking of No Self has been improving, I still often feel as though I am only seeing its shadow. However, I think that I have a sort of compass pointing me towards No Self, if not an actual map. That compass is “unasking the question,” “ungame,” or “mu.” It is the act of noticing the level of analysis you are currently taking for granted as reality, then of stepping out into a different level.
Of course, when it comes to a level of analysis as deeply ingrained as the Self, this is far easier in theory than in practice.
Noticing that I am experiencing the world as though I were a Self is hard enough as it is, because I am so used to being a Self. However, the Noticing becomes easier and easier as I become more acquainted with the nature of Self through meditation.
The Stepping into No Self is hardest of all, because my consciousness only has a dim sense of where to go. I feel like a blind man searching with my foot for a stone underneath rushing river water. Even if sometimes my toes grazes a hard edge, I am either to afraid or too unskilled to take the step.
It’s a work in progress.
P.S.
The language of “levels” of analysis might seem hierarchical. I do not mean it in this sense. One of my deepest intuitions is that no level of analysis is more true than any other. I have the sense that many contemplative traditions disagree with this intuition. Most significantly, No Self is often privileged over Self. I do not see any reason why this should be inherently true. Even if it were often instrumentally true, I don’t see why it should be so in all circumstances. My intuitions about ethics and consciousness identify No Self as only one valid move among many in the game of consciousness.