Or does meditation reveal the face of god?
These are nuanced questions. I have spent much of my life seeking the face of god and I shall assert that I have seen that face. Although my god is that of Spinoza and Einstein, not that of Abraham. My “god” is that revealed by the Tao, by Zen. My god is that of nature, of flow, of unity with all that is.
Scientists are swift to disparage the experience of altered states of reality, but I believe they are missing the point.
Such states have been reported throughout history and most religions have been founded by people believing they have discovered a higher truth through such experiences.
I believe that in order to understand such alternative states, it is important to consider first what we know of consensus reality – the “normal” state with which we are all familiar.
Waking up in the morning and taking the underground to work. Chopping wood, carrying water. Looking at art or a sunset. Climbing a mountain or rowing a boat.
Let us accept that we only access reality second hand, through our senses, and not directly. Touch, smell, sight and hearing – these senses are communicated to the brain by the nervous system and then interpreted by the brain.
Consensus reality is possible since humans are all wired more or less the same and hence will get similar signals from the external world and interpret those signals in a broadly similar manner.
But recognise that this is only a human reality. You and I might see the sky as blue and the sun as a fiercely bright orb in the sky. Other forms of consciousness will not. They may be colour blind for instance. To humans rotting meat smells terrible, to other animals which thrive on eating carrion, it may not.
We humans may not be able to alter some of our sensory apparatus (yet?) but there are aspects of our consciousness we can alter.
And therefore we can access realities very different to consensus reality – the ordinary variety which most of us experience most days of the week.
Science is just at the beginning of its research into the effects of meditation on the human mind and body, but the findings so far are very convincing to those who have deep experience of the practice.
The chemical effects of deep and long-term frequent meditation are a complex and still debated topic. Research is ongoing and the mechanisms are likely to be multifaceted. While definitive answers are currently not available, several avenues of investigation are revealing potential impacts:
Neurotransmitter Changes: Meditation practices are associated with changes in neurotransmitter levels, particularly:
Increased GABA: GABA is an inhibitory neurotransmitter that helps regulate neuronal activity. Studies suggest meditation might lead to increased GABAergic activity, potentially contributing to the calming and stress-reducing effects often observed.
Decreased Cortisol: Chronic stress is linked to elevated cortisol levels. Meditation has been shown to reduce cortisol levels, particularly in response to stressful stimuli, possibly through a combination of factors.
Changes in Dopamine and Serotonin: These neurotransmitters play roles in mood regulation and reward pathways. Some studies hint at potential changes in dopamine and serotonin activity resulting from the practice of meditation, but the specific mechanisms and remain unclear.
Brain Structure Changes: Meditation has been linked to structural changes in the brain, particularly in areas associated with:
Amygdala (stress response): Some studies suggest meditation may reduce the size or activity of the amygdala, which is central to processing emotions, especially fear and anxiety.
Hippocampus (memory and learning): Increased hippocampal volume is a possible effect, which aligns with the cognitive improvements often reported with meditation practices.
Prefrontal Cortex (executive functions): Meditation may strengthen the prefrontal cortex, which is involved in higher-order cognitive functions like attention, focus, and decision-making.
HPA Axis Modulation: The hypothalamic-pituitary-adrenal (HPA) axis is a crucial system for managing stress responses. Meditation might modulate the HPA axis, potentially altering the body’s stress response by influencing cortisol secretion.
Inflammation: Some evidence indicates that meditation may reduce inflammatory markers in the body, possibly through pathways related to the stress response.
The specific chemical effects of meditation can vary greatly depending on the individual’s practice, the length and frequency of practice, and individual genetic predispositions.
In summary:
there’s compelling evidence suggesting that deep and long-term meditation can induce changes in neurotransmitter levels, brain structure, and the body’s stress response. However, more robust research, particularly longitudinal studies, is needed to fully characterize the complex interplay of these effects.
So yes, the effects I am seeing in my mind and my body, in my thoughts and my actions are occasioned by changes in the physical nature and composition of “myself” (whatever that is) brought about by natural causes, by chemicals, by biology.
But then so is everyday reality, and mine was far from pleasant.
What has changed then is my ability to access a “different” reality, or perhaps to access reality in a very different way.
In concrete terms, I experience different and new qualia. I experience far less of those unpleasant and destructive qualia which for so long destroyed my life.
This in itself is to look through the doors of perception upon a world entirely different from the one I used to think I saw.
Key aspects of qualia:
Subjective Experience: Qualia are fundamentally about the feeling or sense of something. It’s not about the physical properties of the stimulus, but the experience of those properties. The redness of red is not simply the wavelengths of light reflected from an object, but the particular feeling of red.
Intrinsic Properties: Qualia are considered intrinsic to the experience itself. They are part of what it’s like to have that experience. They are not dependent on other factors or our knowledge of them. The redness of red doesn’t depend on my knowing what wavelength of light causes it; it’s part of being red.
We can never directly access another person’s qualia. We can only infer them from their behaviour and reports, but those reports are ultimately based on their subjective experience.
Qualia are often closely tied to the content of experience. The pain of a headache is about the headache. The taste of chocolate is about chocolate. This intentionality is what distinguishes qualia from purely physical sensations.
The Hard Problem of Consciousness: Philosopher David Chalmers famously identified the “hard problem of consciousness” as the problem of explaining qualia. How can physical processes in the brain give rise to subjective experience? This is a significant challenge, as there’s no obvious physical correlate to the feeling of redness, for example.
Philosophical debates surrounding qualia:
Physicalism vs. Dualism: Physicalists argue that all mental states, including qualia, are ultimately reducible to physical processes in the brain. Dualists, on the other hand, argue for a fundamental distinction between mind and matter, suggesting that qualia might not be fully explained by physical science.
Eliminative Materialism: Some philosophers argue that qualia are not real and that our folk psychology understanding of them is flawed. This position, known as eliminative materialism, suggests that our common-sense understanding of qualia will eventually be replaced by a more scientifically accurate account.
Property Dualism: Property dualism suggests that qualia are non-physical properties that emerge from physical processes but aren’t reducible to them.
Functionalism: Functionalists argue that qualia are not essential to understanding the mind. They focus on the role of mental states rather than their subjective character.
Examples illustrating the concept:
Redness: The redness of red isn’t just a description of a physical property; it’s a unique and personal experience of color.
Pain: The pain of a headache isn’t just a neurological signal; it’s a distinct, unpleasant feeling.
Emotion: The feeling of joy isn’t just a physiological response, but a complex experience with a unique subjective quality.
Understanding qualia is a complex and ongoing philosophical challenge. There isn’t a universally accepted answer to their nature or relationship with the physical world. But the pursuit of answers helps us grapple with the fundamental questions of consciousness and what it means to be human.
In particular my every day experience under the influence of deep and frequent meditative practice gives me experiences and feelings and insights which are entirely new to me. In effect my physical reality has become entirely different. Whether you wish to call that another world or some subset of ordinary existence is of little import.
One welcome qualia (a new arrow indeed in my sorry quiver) has been antaraxia, but there are many more. Some of which are difficult to describe – or at least I don’t seem to have the language to describe them.
Ataraxia represents a state of undisturbed mental tranquillity, a freedom from emotional turmoil and the anxieties that plague the human condition. It’s not simply the absence of pleasure or happiness, but rather a deep-seated inner peace achieved through understanding and accepting what is beyond one’s control.
Some believe that external events – wealth, health, reputation, and even the actions of others – are ultimately indifferent to one’s true well-being. These external factors are not inherently good or bad, but only our judgements about them create suffering. By focusing on what we can control – our thoughts, judgments, and actions – we cultivate virtue and ultimately achieve ataraxia.
This doesn’t mean suppressing emotions or ignoring problems. Instead, it involves understanding the difference between what we can influence and what we cannot. When confronted with an adverse event, we might aim at understanding its true nature, acknowledging its inevitability, and reacting with reason and virtue. This allows us to avoid the emotional turbulence that often accompanies negative experiences, maintaining a calm and serene state of mind, and fostering ataraxia.
Crucially, ataraxia is not a passive state of apathy. It’s a powerful state of mental clarity and resilience that allows individuals to respond effectively to life’s challenges without being overwhelmed by them. By aligning actions with virtue and reason, we might aim to find inner peace and freedom, a sense of inner harmony even amidst external adversity.
And lastly what have I seen, what is this face of god?
I have always been strongly drawn to the divine, although religion is not a word I have ever been entirely at home with. Nor “god” for that matter. Perhaps I should say, rather, that I have always sought meaning, explanations – not unlike the scientist I should have been.
And that I have always experienced moments of intense connection to things beautiful, mysterious and apparently remote.
But those things are better described by eastern philosophy than western religions.
A universe profoundly interconnected and perhaps infinite, perhaps undying. A fecund infinity, a vast and infinite sea of wonder and potential, for ever existing and forever, in some senses, unchanging.
So the face of my god seems so very close to that Spinoza or Einstein believed he saw.
Not a being outside of the universe, but the universe itself. Not a god to receive supplication and prayer. Not a god to raise Lazarus from the dead or part the waters of the red sea for his tribe to flee Egypt.
But instead, a unified whole comprising every great mystery we see around us, from suns and black holes to animal consciousness and beyond.
Einstein didn’t believe in a personal God who intervened in the universe’s workings. Instead, he described his belief as a “religious feeling” or “a cosmic religious sense.” He saw the universe as governed by rational laws that he believed reflected a deeper order. His understanding of God was more akin to a force or principle that underpinned the natural order, rather than a being with human-like attributes. He often referred to this as “the mystery of the universe,” a profound awe and reverence for the underlying beauty and harmony of nature’s laws. He used terms like “the divine,” “the universe,” and “the cosmos” when discussing this.
Crucially, Einstein’s concept of God was deeply influenced by Spinoza. Spinoza, a 17th-century philosopher, argued for a pantheistic view, where God is not separate from the universe but is the universe. The universe is God’s body, and God’s essence is expressed through the natural laws and order of the cosmos. Einstein, like Spinoza, saw the universe as a unified, rational system governed by discoverable laws, and he viewed the awe-inspiring order of nature as a reflection of this divine principle. Einstein’s God was not a personal entity interacting with the world, but rather the immanent order and rationality of the universe itself. This aligned closely with the pantheistic perspective. He rejected the idea of a God who answered prayers or performed miracles, instead emphasizing the beauty and harmony of natural laws as a source of awe and reverence.
So “is it just the chemicals”? I would argue for an emergent view.
In the beginning there was “no-thing”. Then came the most basic of elements, and then the entire periodic table was formed in the vast crucibles and furnaces we call stars.
And then on earth at least came life. And then consciousness – the ability to self reflect, to wonder, to seek the face of god.
And so my writing is emergent – and so are my thoughts. The agency may be chemicals and biology, but the result is so much more. My consciousness, my thoughts, my being has emerged from apparently inert matter. As has yours.
And my meditation has caused further reactions in my physical mind and body which have brought new insight and qualia which I have never before witnessed or felt.
And peace.
Is that just chemicals? I would argue the sum of the parts is greater than the whole. But try it and see.
As for myself, I am quite satisfied with the results of meditation and suspect that if you put it in the water, a very different world would result.
Weltanschauung 
Again, glad you’re finding peace with it. There’s a long tradition in this view. In a way it’s the end of a process begun with animism, of worshipping the forces of nature. But instead of worshipping each separate force, pantheism largely combines all that into one overall divine principle.
The main thing I’ve always wondered about with this view is how much daylight there really is between it and conventional naturalism (along with agnosticism or atheism).
But hey if it’s working for you, that’s good enough.
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I’m happy to say that in my case I don’t “worship” anything 🤣 nor have I ever done. But yes an interesting point about the antecedents. I wonder whether it matters too much how one defines these things. A Christian would certainly call me an atheist for instance and with justification – I have no belief in any of the more traditional type of god. As for agnosticism, I would imagine most people if they really thought about it would admit that they do not know – most of us, I imagine, if we are being totally honest. Even Bertrand Russell had to admit to the conceivable existence of the flying teapot. I think that the Einstein point of view is mostly about sheer wonder, as well as the conviction that there remained much to be revealed. Much to be discovered. There is certainly a sense of wonder in how the universe appears to be put together. And it is certainly a place of fecundity as the Buddhists believe. Think of the potential yield from asteroids. So all in all my feelings is one of wonder, even admiration for what we see around us. Coupled, and this is essential for ataraxia, which the realisation that none of it matters very much in the long term.
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Maybe a better word than “worship” would have been “revered”, which might fit with the sense of wonder aspect. “Worship” does imply praying (or in older religions, offerings), something I’m sure few Spinozists engage in.
As I noted in my post the other day, I lean Epicurean for ataraxia. Of course, there’s plenty of overlap, and no reason to regard them as exclusive of each other.
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In my amateur science experimentation, I find prayer or meditation substantially more uplifting and revealing than caffeine.
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Good for you Cheryl. I fear I do have a couple of cups of coffee a day but not so much as to create any sense of agitation. Meditation is, for me, prayer of a kind, although not to any god other than that of Spinoza. I am finding profound physical and mental effects from meditation and these increase as the days go by. A side effect is an effect widening gap with the physical world and a desire for a better one. Which may, or may not materialise!
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