Negative emotions are just fine. I’ll be angry if you don’t agree.

Proving (sort of) that the cosmos agrees with the theme of this blog post, about an hour ago I finished episode 8 of the fourth season of The Handmaid's Tale on Hulu, which I belatedly started watching after seeing Elisabeth Moss in another streaming series and wanting to see more of her acting. The Handmaid's Tale, of course, is an adaptation of the dystopian book by the same name written by Margaret Atwood. Women are treated extremely badly in the nation of Gilead, which used to be the United States until religious zealots managed to take over the country, motivated…

You can’t know your “true self,” but you can be it

I readily admit that Thomas Metzinger's new book, The Elephant and the Blind, often isn't easy to read. This detailed examination of pure awareness involves a lot of philosophy, a lot of neuroscience, and a lot of sophisticated arguments. All that is challenging. But every chapter rewards me with insights presented in simple language that make me pleased I bought this lengthy book -- which as I've noted before can be downloaded for free from the publisher, The MIT Press. (I prefer reading books on paper, not a screen.) Metzinger does a great job separating precepts of Buddhist, Advaita, and…

Narrative self-deception is one way we fool ourselves

Each of us is the hero or villain in a story of our own making. That's admittedly a simplistic summary of a psychological principle, but it isn't far from the truth. I'm certainly aware of this in regard to myself. I have a way of looking upon my 75 years of living that, by and large, puts me in a positive light. Which isn't surprising, since I prefer praise to blame, so why would I choose to view the events of my life in a fashion that draws attention to my weaknesses instead of my strengths? Of course, some people…

Feeling you know isn’t the same as knowing

One of the benefits of reading a book about pure awareness by a philosopher, instead of someone who identifies with a religion or spiritual practice, is that you get a more realistic perspective. A good example is that Thomas Metzinger, the author of The Elephant and the Blind, speaks in an early chapter about the difference between a feeling of knowing and actual knowing. This should be obvious to anyone, which really is everyone, who has confidently believed that something was true until they learned that it wasn't.  Metzinger calls this the E-fallacy. His glossary defines it this way: A…

Nobody is watching the movie of your life, or mine, or anybody’s

Every morning I try to read one of the short chapters in Thomas Metzinger's fascinating book, The Elephant and the Blind: The Experience of Pure Consciousness -- Philosophy, Science, and 500+ Experiential Reports. I particularly enjoy passages that intuitively appeal to me, yet rationally challenge my ability to comprehend exactly what Metzinger is saying. Below I'll share an example from the "Nonidentification" chapter.  First, though, this introductory mention in the chapter of the traditional movie theatre metaphor. One classic metaphor for this process [of de-identification], found in many places in the popular literature on meditation, is the image of being…

The Elephant and the Blind — a provocative book about pure consciousness

Proving my dedication to the study of consciousness (or maybe my addiction to books), a few days ago my $80 copy of Thomas Metzinger's 600 page book, The Elephant and the Blind, arrived.  I had to buy the paperback version because I can't read a nonfiction book without a pen and highlighter in hand. But the book can be read for free via a download from the publisher, the MIT press. Just click on the Open Access tab. Metzinger is a philosopher who wrote a book about the mind, The Ego Tunnel, that I enjoyed. Here's some of the blog…

Why “being at the eye center” isn’t possible

In my preceding post, "Joan Tollifson on the Imaginary Vantage Point. Brilliant observations," I shared quotations from one of her books that clearly demonstrated why it makes no sense for a person at one of her talks to claim that they were able to concentrate their mind at a vantage point that enabled them to be aware of the world from a detached distance that they considered to be positive for them. Just a bit of clear thinking illustrates why this couldn't actually be the case. Meaning, this person wasn't really concentrating their mind at a certain point in their…

Rather than rely on religion, here’s what I consider both true and beneficial

Having been a religious believer for 35 years, Eastern religion variety, I'm deeply familiar with why people are attracted to a belief in God, heaven, supernatural realms, mystical powers, life after death, and such. In short, it feels good.  Religions provide a community of like-minded people. They offer a ready-made meaning to life. Their believers are drawn to view themselves as special, possessing knowledge and benefits (like eternal salvation) off-limits to those not within the religion's fold.  I found all those things highly appealing and beneficial to me. Until I didn't. For this primary reason: I came to conclude that…

Becoming confused about illusionism, I shift to the simpler topic of many selves

So, I was happily reading along in Eric Schwitzgebel's book, The Weirdness of the World, getting to the last few pages of a chapter where he tries to define consciousness in a defensible fashion, when my attention was captured by a passage about illusionism -- though that term wasn't used by Schwitzgebel. Some philosophers have argued that consciousness, or phenomenal consciousness, does not exist. Keith Frankish is the most visible recent advocate, but others include Paul Feyerabend, Jay Garfield, Francois Kammerer, and maybe early Patricia Churchland. The argument is always a version of the following:  The ordinary concept of (phenomenal)…

Believing that the mind’s resources are non-limited allows more mental effort

Beliefs are powerful. We need to use them wisely. Not by believing crazy stuff wildly out of touch with reality, but by believing in possibilities firmly within our potential to achieve.  The placebo effect is a good example of this. Taking a sugar pill that is believed to be efficacious isn't going to cure a Stage 4 cancer. However, it can have other positive effects, such as reducing pain.  Reading David Robson's book this morning, The Expectation Effect: How Your Mindset Can Change the World, I came across an interesting example of the power of belief in his "Limitless Willpower"…

The smallest things we do can have huge effects

I don't believe in God. I do believe in the universe. Because it is clearly objectively real, and there's no evidence that God exists as anything other than subjective ideas in human minds.

So I love it when the universe appears to have a message for me. I emphasized appears, since the message I got today from the universe is solely mine. Maybe it's just a coincidence that two authors I've read recently had similar things to say.

No matter. I'm merely sharing what each of them said, which makes a lot of sense to me.

First, I get regular emails from Joan Tollifson where she communicates a fresh essay in line with her particular view of Zen, Buddhism, and spirituality in general. I've become a big fan of Tollifson after reading her book, Nothing to Grasp

(I've written several blog posts about the book.)

I liked her newest essay, "The freedom to be exactly as you are," so much, I've included the whole thing as a continuation to this post. Just click on the continuation link and you can read it. Here's an excerpt that reminds me a lot of how Robert Sapolsky describes the illusion of free will in his book, Determined.

In the conceptual picture of cause and effect, it certainly appears that people make things happen. We can seemingly control some things, such as opening and closing our hand, but not other things, such as the functioning of our spleen. These relative differences cannot be denied. We are conditioned to believe in free will and in our responsibility to accomplish great things, be a good person, do our duty, and so on. We habitually judge ourselves and others, compare ourselves to others, and think that we (and others) should be better, stronger, smarter, wiser, more compassionate, more successful, more attractive, more something than we are.

But we don’t actually get to choose the role we are playing in the movie of waking life. No one can simply “decide” to be Martin Luther King or Ramana Maharshi, or to not be Adolph Hitler or Pol Pot if that is the part we’ve been given. Even if we seemingly “choose” to change such things as our name, gender, career, hairstyle, religious affiliation, or anything else, each of these “choices” is a choiceless movement of life itself. Every apparent individual is the result of infinite causes and conditions—the whole universe is moving as each one of us and as everything that happens, and no form ever actually persists for more than an instant. You are not the same as you were when you began reading this article—the whole universe has shifted.

Second, Brian Klaas has written a book, Fluke: Chance, Chaos, and Why Everything We Do Matters, that has nothing to do with Zen or Buddhism, from what I can tell after reading about half of it. Yet these excerpts are very much in line with what Tollifson had to say above. They just approach the subject differently.

(Here's a link about how different sperm from the same man differ a lot, if you don't believe what Klaas says about this.)

Motivational posters tell you that if you set your mind to it, you can change the world. I've got some good news for you: you already have. Congratulations! You're changing it right now because your brain is adjusting slightly just by reading the words I've written for you. If you hadn't read this sentence, the world would be different.

I mean that literally. Your neural networks have now been altered, and it will — in the most imperceptible, minute way — adjust your behavior slightly over the remainder of your lifetime. Who knows what the ripple effects will be. But in an intertwined system, nothing is meaningless. Everything matters. 

You may think this all sounds a bit trivial or abstract, but consider this: You might decide, or you have already decided, to bring some new humans into the world. Without getting into graphic detail, the precise moment that a baby is conceived is one of the most contingent aspects of our existence. On the day it happens, change any detail — no matter how insignificant — and you end up with a different child.

Suddenly, you have a daughter instead of a son, or vice versa — or just a different son or daughter. Siblings often diverge in unexpected ways, so any change in who is born will radically change your life — and the lives of countless others.

But it's not just the one day that a child is conceived that matters. Instead, amplify that contingency by every moment of your life. Each detail in the entire chain-link architecture of your lifetime had to be exactly as it was for the exact child who was born to be born. That's true for you, for me, for everyone.

Yet again, the motivational posters have sold you short. "You're one in a million!" they shout at you with uplifting glee. Try one in a hundred million, because that's how many competitors, on average, your single-celled predecessor outswam to successfully become half of yourself. 

You matter. That's not self-help advice. It's scientific truth. If someone else had been born instead of you — the unborn ghost whom you outcompeted in the existence sweepstakes — countless other people's lives would be profoundly different, so our world would be different, too. The ripples of life spread out, in unexpected ways, for eternity.

Click below for the entire Tollifson essay.

 

Dehabituation is my new spiritual goal (until another comes along)

At the age of 75, after about sixty years of trying to figure out the Meaning of It All (I started that quest around the age of 16, when I struggled to comprehend the lyrics of early Bob Dylan songs), when I find a fresh idea to explore, it feels great. That feeling, by the way, is directly linked to the newest fresh idea: habituation, and its antidote, dehabituation.  I've got an article in the March 2, 2024 issue of New Scientist to thank for cluing me in to those words. I'd been vaguely familiar with the notion of habituation,…

I can’t stop seeing religious belief as a placebo

So, I'm reading along this morning in David Robson's book, The Expectation Effect: How Your Mindset Can Change the World, enjoying the "Faster, Stronger, Fitter" chapter, which is about athletic performance, not anything spiritual, and I come to a passage about how a bicycle racer benefitted from an injection of sugar water, which got me to thinking about how religious belief also is a placebo. (I've boldfaced the concluding sentence that struck me most strongly.) This new theory of exhaustion, one that rightly places the brain as controller of what the body can do, helps us to understand the influences…

Mass hysteria isn’t all that different from religious groupthink

During the 35 years that I was a member of an India-based religious organization, Radha Soami Satsang Beas (RSSB), one of the things that I liked most about that experience was how I felt like I was part of a giant family. A family not in the usual sense, but in the sense of a group of people who had much in common, who shared a similar view of reality, who trusted each other, who helped each other, who looked up to a father figure -- the RSSB guru, which made us sort of like brothers and sisters. All that…

Placebos point to the amazing link between body and mind

After writing the title of this post, I just had a doubt about my use of the word "amazing." It made sense when I wrote Placebos point to the amazing link between body and mind. But as soon as I'd typed those words, my mind said, in effect, "Hey, dude, is it really so amazing that one part of the body affects another part of the body?" To which I replied to myself, "No, it isn't." So why are placebos looked upon as an indication of the surprising connection between what the human mind does and what the human body…

Religion and mysticism are nothing other than the placebo effect

We've all heard about placebos. You know, those inactive substances, such as sugar pills, that are used as controls in research designed to determine whether a genuine drug has positive bodily effects.  Most of us also are familiar with the frequent finding that placebos turn out to be as effective as genuine drugs, or even surgical procedures. This is perplexing if we assume that the mind and body are separate entities. But not at all perplexing given the obvious fact that the mind is the brain in action, and the brain is an organ of the body. So if someone…

Neurons and synapses are what we are

Today I finished reading Robert Sapolsky's book, Determined: A Science of Life Without Free Will, by making my way through a fascinating appendix that, in 24 pages, gives an overview of how the brain works. It was a mind-blowing description of how, in broad strokes, the mind arises from goings-on in the brain. I'm not going to attempt to repeat what Sapolsky had to say, aside from sharing one of the illustrations in the appendix along with a brief quotation. What neurons do is talk to each other, cause each other to get excited. At one end of a neuron…

Stoicism advises being happy with what we already have

A few weeks ago I wrote a philosophical post for my HinesSight blog: Stoic guide to happiness: want the things you already have. Here's an excerpt from the talk by William B. Irvine that I transcribed. The ancient Stoics came up with a way to get off the hedonic treadmill. The trick, they said, is to want the things you already have, to love the life you happen to be living.  To better understand this trick, let’s turn our attention back to the gap theory of happiness. The Stoics agreed that the presence of a gap between what you have…

Concepts can’t be avoided and are different from thoughts

I've continued to make my way through Rob Burbea's excellent book about Buddhist teachings, Seeing That Frees: Meditations on Emptiness and Dependent Arising. As noted before, Burbea goes into considerable detail about his subject, sometimes more than I'm capable of appreciating -- since I'm a fan of Buddhism but don't consider myself a Buddhist. Then I come across some passages that truly do resonate with me. Here's a sampling.  This discussion of concepts impressed me because it fits so well with the modern neuroscientific theory of predictive processing by the brain. Basically this says that the brain is constantly making…

“Seeing That Frees” — a great book about Buddhist emptiness

Shamil Chandaria's talk on the Bayesian Brain and Meditation that I wrote about recently is a gift that keeps on giving. For on one of his slides there was a small image of a book by Rob Burbea, Seeing That Frees: Meditations on Emptiness and Dependent Arising. I recall that Chandaria mentioned it briefly, but he certainly didn't dwell on the book. I figured, correctly as it turns out, that the book was in line with the ideas about the brain that Chandaria was talking about, so I decided to order a copy from Amazon. It took a while to…