Tag: Zen

  • An Atheist’s Guide to Nirvana

    An Atheist’s Guide to Nirvana

    Transcendence is a reality and can change life for the better. It can be sought out and it can be achieved. The more you have the experience, the easier it becomes to trigger and the more often it comes unbidden and unlooked for.

    The word “transcendence” sounds grandiose and unduly religious – perhaps a less controversial way to describe the experience is Abraham Maslow’s phrase: the “peak experience”. Sounds secular, even scientific perhaps. Less arty, less poetic. But the same thing nonetheless.

    Anyone claiming to have had experience of “transcendence” tends to  sound like a new age hippy.  A religious nutter.  A fake messiah.  A crank, a would be promoter of a sinister new sect.  The reality is that such states are relatively common and the experiencer is more likely to be the man on the Clapham omnibus.

    States of transcendence have been experienced and described throughout the ages. It seems best to view them as an alternate state of consciousness – a different experience  of the physical reality we find ourselves in.  Rather than an entry into a supernatural or non-physical realm.

    Nonetheless, such experiences are radical and life changing. They make the physical reality we inhabit as special and magical as those we describe in faery tales and religious texts.

    Transcendent states don’t have to be imagined or believed in. Anyone can have one and  transform their experience of an otherwise unsatisfactory world.

    Doubtless those of a more traditionally religious state of mind will find my opinions unacceptable (even blasphemous). But  those unwilling to accept religious dogma will no doubt be far more amenable to belief in a different state of mind, a different perception of reality, which does not rely on non physical worlds or realms.  Or gods.

    The latter position is where I find my own beliefs to lie.

    I believe that the world is strange enough as it is and that there is no need to posit  supernatural causes or entities. In addition, transcendent states of mind make it possible to actually experience the sorts of qualia otherwise only described by the various religions.  “The Peace of God”, “Nirvana”, “Moksha” and so on. 

    There are practical routines which can lead us to our own transcendent episodes, and once experienced, our universe begins to look very different.

    It is unnecessary here to dwell on the nature of such experiences, which has been so often dealt with elsewhere, but often those who claim first hand knowledge talk of profound peace, tranquility and a sense of gnosis.

    There is no science to this, no proof of the existence of the state. It is subjective and self-reported, like any other state of mind.  Science is, however, making increasing efforts to track the neural correlates of such states, and brain activity does show characteristic markers in those who submit to tests.

    The reality of transcendence can be enjoyed by anyone who engages  in routines which tend to bring on the experience.  Which seems good enough. You don’t need a scientist or proof when you can bring about a state of transcendence or peak experience for yourself.

    What you make of the experience is, of course, up to you.

    Those of a religious frame of mind tend to see their god or other anchor of their belief system

    I have continuously queried such states over a number of years and god was noticeable by his absence. But then that would be expected – we tend to see what we believe is out there and over the years my atheism has become more pronounced. 

    For around four years I took psychedelics on a regular basis – for much the same reason as Alduous Huxley.  While fascinating, god again refused to make an appearance. Pure ecstasy was to be found in abundance however, and I found myself thankful that psilocybin is not addictive.

    I have found yoga and meditation equally proficient in producing  peak experiences.  I get many of the same bizarre effects, albeit on a less radical scale. I can feel my mind and body profoundly altered and my view of the world becomes clear and benign. 

    Unlike with psychedelics, the experience lasts and the alterations in one’s psyche are, it seems, permanent.

    The changes in my own personality and behaviour have accelerated over the past few years. I have become quieter and more contemplative and ever more sure that our species has it all wrong.  I no longer feel anger at the world – simply quiet acceptance.  Once an ambitious capitalist, I have come to be amused by those who pile up vast dirt balls for themselves, and I no longer believe that achieves anything worth having.

    I note arrogance, greed and aggression all around me. The suicidal mania on our roads, the destruction of our habitat, the callous, careless and selfish behaviour of so many of us. I note with wry amusement the behaviour of our “leaders” and realise that it has always been thus. How “amusing” that the Israelis are now bombing the shit out of Iran, having committed genocide in Gaza. What great lessons, what wisdom they drew from the Holocaust.  And the Iranian mullahs – how valuable their faith has been in promoting tolerance and world peace. 

    It is business as usual in the world at large.  Planning and scheming, grabbing and killing, re-arming and restocking with dread weapons.  Talking of war and annihilation instead of peace and harmony .

    Perhaps though, a better world is possible. Perhaps we will grow up. Perhaps more of us will come to see obscene material wealth for the abomination it is.  And that violence achieves nothing.

    I believe that turning inwards, adopting simplicity, trying to better ourselves might work one fine day.

    Back in 2018 I started a blog called “Weltanschauung”. My worldview is now largely complete. My years of meditation and contemplation have, in some senses, achieved nothing at all. I am no richer, I have no power, I am not famous.

    And yet, in general, I am happy, which is a state I have never before managed to achieve.

    And yes, I do attribute that to my “peak experiences”, my increasingly frequent transcendence to a very different state of mind.  To my many hours of meditation and yoga each day. To my contemplation and my realisations.

    I have proved to myself that a better world is possible, and I take much solace from that. It will not arrive by violent revolution or by the dictat of some imaginary god. It will come, if at all, by slow and incremental change. By evolution perhaps. By a slow realisation that a good life, a meaningful existence, can never be achieved by greed and violence. By more of us turning towards simplicity and peace and realising that nothing more is required.

    I am a man on the Clapham Omnibus, one of 10 bn souls on this planet.  On the Planck scale really – almost infinitely small and insignificant.  And yet I seem to have achieved a different state of mind, which has improved my life immensely.  I cannot help but believe that all of us could and should do the same.  And that if we did, many good things would be possible.

  • Being

    Being

    Sitting in the garden listening to the rain.

    There may be no more to be said than that. Call it a koan if you will, or a haiku perhaps. But do not be entangled by words or definitions.

    If you must subscribe to any line of thinking, let it be Eastern. I am Zen. Doing nothing.

    I am the Tao. I am the Hsin Hsin Ming.

    And so are we all, did we but know it.

    In the quiet, I have seen my origins. I have witnessed my past and my future. In me as in all of us, there are a million, million years of history.

    In meditation, it is not too fanciful to speak to your long deceased father. Or mother. Or any of the millions of things you have been in the past, or will become in the future.

    I sense a life in the woods, way back in time. I witnessed my consciousness emerge from all those eons of experienced time. And somewhere a monastery, in more modern times. Always a monastery.

    And I saw the way it must end. Or rather, not end. Continue.

    As I sense my father in me, my son, if he cared to think about it, would sense me in him. And his mother.

    A seeker eventually finds. I have found. The truth, the way, reality – call it what you will.

    It is devastatingly simple and of incredible complexity.

    The simple part is to be. To feel the waters and flow of time around you and to go, to drift with the gentle current.

    There is no more to it than that. If you seek contentment and meaning, then accept the river, the flow and do not try to go against the stream.

    If you seek complexity, you will certainly find it, but it will avail you little.

    Complexity is to be found in your body and the millions of working parts which make you what you are.

    Complexity is to be found in the society and economy we have created.

    Let it all pass. It will do so of its own accord in time. All is change, there are no constants.

    Being, that is all there is to it. Sitting in the garden and listening to the rain.

  • A Finger Pointing to the Moon

    A Finger Pointing to the Moon

    Master Po say “Grasshopper never mind finger, go for moon”.

    Well he probably put it rather better than that, but I think I have got the sentiment correct.

    Ever since childhood I have had a fascination with Eastern philosophy and mysticism.  While I never rated their clothes, and always preferred Byrd and Tallis over kabuki & noh, if I had to choose a favorite creed it would be a mixture of Zen Buddhism with a hefty dash of Taoism.

    All that going with the flow!

    After so many years of reading, I have recently come back to this very apt Zen koan. I don’t want to do any more study.  Grasshopper he say….. no more words.

    The direct experience is more important than the teaching. The teaching can only point you in the right direction, the reality, the experience of reality, you must find for yourself.

    Though my tone is mocking, I believe this very profoundly. As I believe passionately in much of basic Buddhism.  I can do without the nutty tinpot gods and pure lands but those guys knew a thing or two about how to be a decent human being, as well as how to find personal happiness.

    Because unless you are a happy bunny yourself you can’t spread the good word to others. I never did like Jeremiah. Or any of those miserable Old Testament Prophets.  God, were those ancient Jews a miserable bunch. Give me happiness any day over slavish obedience to a cruel old misery like Jehovah.

    My eastern friends had no problems with a horrid deity who kept slapping them around the face and sending them pillars of salt, exile and slavery. Sodom.

    I’m wittering. Let me be more concrete, come to the point.

    You don’t need books of words to open the doors of perception. And for gods sake, if ever there were a case for the burning of books, then it is those written by modern self help gurus which should take the first lick of flames, the first match.  All those guys want is …..well perhaps I should let them speak for themselves?

    “Power of Now”, my arse.

    Help me, help, I’m waffling again. There is a serious point in all this rambling, I promise.

    Nirvana – we all want it don’t we? Although the literal translation from the Sanskrit can be a little disconcerting – “a snuffing out”.

    The closest approaches  I have made have all been chemically or physically induced. But then our every emotion is chemical anyway, if we did but know it. We are our chemicals.

    My most profound moments of peace have tended to come not when poring over obscure texts but when out doing something in the real world.

    The spiritual boost, the feeling of peace after mat exercises on the gym floor. The rhythmic movement of paddles through water on a sun filled sea. Lying on the grass on a dark, dark night staring incredulously at the milky way.  Chanting in Latin to music written by a 16th Century Spanish priest.

    The moan of winter wind in the trees of my cottage garden, the drifting of my mind in meditation.  The strange effects of self hypnosis.  And yes, a microscopic dose of psilocybin now and then on a day when the world seems not so very benign.

    I am sitting here now, in the dark, in the quiet, quiet English countryside with the blowing wind as my only companion. I feel great calm. I have no need of Mr Chopra, nor Mr Tolle. Nor any of their ilk.

    I write but not so that you will read. I write as experience. I write to tease out my own truth, as catharsis.  I write for myself.

    It is in writing that I can explain myself to myself. It is in writing that I can find out who and what I am. What I mean, what I feel, where I am and where I am going.

    I write to experience the moon, not to see the finger pointing at it.

    stillness
    stillness