The Stream of Sciousness

The Stream of Sciousness Over the last several years that I have been studying, practicing, and teaching meditation, it has become increasingly evident that the cultivation of mindfulness is more a process of un-doing, rather than something we set out to accomplish or achieve. There are countless texts and articles regarding the how’s and why’s of meditation for anyone looking to decompress, destress, cultivate compassion and awareness, increase focus and concentration, boost immune system response, sleep better, and generally feel happier. These benefits are ultimately the result of peeling back the filtered layers that are imposed on our natural state, subduing our pure “being”1. We tend to spend our time in a filtered existence ruled by involuntary thought that focuses on either the past or the future, and whose relentless dialogue is accompanied by various degrees of fear, tension, anxiety, doubt, worry, and restlessness. Despite the acknowledgment of its copious benefits, the innate struggle with our ego-mind can make it challenging to simply get to the cushion to accrue our time of focused meditation. Once we recognize and accept the practice as one of un-doing, it will become substantially less daunting to establish a regular practice. This un-doing follows a clear, progressive pathway which correlates across three avenues: our breath, our level of awareness, and even the language we use to reflect this return to the present moment and our “cosmic selves”.

A Brief Tangent on Communicative Symbols A large obstacle in the West is how to describe what we feel and experience during un-doing and the systematic disconnection from the ego-mind2 and its filters. There are ancient Eastern words in Pali and Sanskrit3: panna (wisdom), samadhi (concentration), and sila (morality), for example, but our understanding of those terms rely on the interpretation and translation of ancient texts and teachers from another culture, language, age, and geographic region--a 2500-year-old spiritual version of the telephone game4. I have always been fascinated by language. Symbols and labels came about as a way for humans to communicate ideas, sensations, and feelings with one another. It is important to remember that these Throughout this article the “being” to which I refer is a “verb-being” (as opposed to a “noun-being”). We are not solid objects of fused skin and bone, separate from our environment. We are a collection of hundreds of thousands moving parts—atoms and molecules--and the sensations of those components. “Massed together, these sensations form a shimmering field that can be felt to occupy the space of the entire body and even a bit beyond, pulsating, vibrating, tingling.” (Johnson, 11) 2 “Ego-mind”: the narrative in our head that filters our perceptions; creates fear, doubt, and anxiety; and, disconnects us from our natural state of “verb-being” 3 Pali and Sanskrit are sacred languages of the Indian subcontinent widely studied because of their ties to early Buddhist and Hindu texts 4 The Telephone Game (also known as, “Chinese Whispers”, #offensivemuch?) is an ancient game from the pre-texting days of yore in which a group of people (presumably children) assemble, either in a line or in a circle, and the first person whispers a message in the ear of the individual next to them. That person, in turn, repeats the message (whispering) to the next person in line/circle. This continues until the message gets to the last individual, who then announces the message for the group. The game is to see how far the message has changed and been contorted through transmission down the line/circle 1

symbols are a man-made invention, and therefore subject to interpretation. They are the result of the analytical ego-mind, and effective communication relies on our ability to agree on the symbols that we’ve assigned everything around us.

An example from shamanic healer and teacher, Don Miguel Ruiz: trees exist, regardless of any involvement on our part to observe, analyze, label, or communicate about them. They are simply there, in a state of pure “being” as their beautiful tree-selves. It’s extremely challenging to describe what “being” entails, especially with such diversity in this universe, so we assign a communicable symbol (a word) to said “being” in order to express an idea or observation about that “being”, either to ourselves or to others.

Now, if what I call a “tree” (

) is not what you call a “tree” (

) then our symbols aren’t in

agreement and we won’t be able to communicate effectively. If you try to meet me for a picnic by your “tree”, I’ll be off in a serene field somewhere while you dodge shopping carts or sit in your driveway.

Obviously “tree” is a fairly common symbol that I think most of us can agree upon. But life is rarely that simple, so of course there are subtleties when we want to qualify the characteristics of that tree which complicates our ability to agree on the same symbol, such as “an old, straight, healthy, green tree”. What determines “old”, “straight”, “healthy”, or “green” varies from my experience to yours. As Ruiz puts it, “Every word in our mind has a meaning, but not because it’s real, not because it’s truth5.

It’s just an agreement with ourselves, and with everybody else who learns the same symbology.” (17) And this is where the Mindful community meets its quandary. The symbols we need for communication exist in the filtered realm of the ego-mind, while we, as practitioners, are trying to access, interpret, disseminate, and describe a plane of existence beyond the analytical label-maker in our heads.

In fact, those tools of the mind might even pull us out of an elevated plane and back to the place of our fears and anxieties. But, the simple fact that we are able to observe these thoughts, lists, and dialogue highlights the presence of a filter, and that “we” exist at a level further back still.6 It’s important to recognize that those thoughts we witness are not the true “us” and that we can continue to un-do further, peeling back yet another layer, to our cosmic core.

“Sciousness” – Awareness without the Self Moving forward from that brief background in communication theory, let’s discuss the symbols tied to awareness because if we can agree on the labels that express goals in a contemplative practice, we can begin to explore one avenue of un-doing: a progression of awareness. William James (1842-1910) was 5 6

The “truth” in this case is pure “being”, the existence of the tree in all its “verb-being” tree-ness This core, observational vantage point is commonly referred to as “the Silent Witness”

a physician and philosopher, widely considered the Father of American Psychology. His book, The Principals of Psychology (1890) was a major leap forward for the field in the U.S. I don’t need to get into the nitty-gritty of 19th century psychology but what I have pulled from the text is a fascinating term: “sciousness” (pronounced “chuss-ness”). Sciousness is the “end of the line” in a linear progression from a state of “unconsciousness”, being no awareness; to “consciousness” (or perhaps, “con-sciousness”) as awareness of the self; and, finally landing at “sciousness” or awareness without the self, which is arguably the primary goal of any contemplative practice. Note the un-doing inherent within the construction of our symbols.

Unconsciousness

Con-sciousness

Sciousness

We equate unconsciousness to a state of having zero awareness. We witness some variation of “functioning unconsciousness” in society all the time: the grocery store, the post office, or sitting in traffic on the 405 in Los Angeles, for example. It’s terrifying, especially from a meditator’s perspective, but if awareness was easy everyone would exist in that state.7 Consciousness—or awareness (of the self)—is one of the initial benefits of contemplative practices like meditation. By focusing on the breath, our posture, a mantra, candle light, etc., we become increasingly aware of the involuntary thoughts that occupy our attention. As awareness emerges, we start to tune into all the sensations of the body. We witness and catch “monkey mind”8 and how it affects us.

As we hone in on the present, we can learn to sit and savor the “gaps” in our mind chatter, pockets in the narration where the ego-mind is silent and all we do is simply exist and observe.

“Temporally, mindfulness involves firstly coming into closer contact with our experience, becoming more intimately aware of our experience, before secondly not identifying with that experience as a self (i.e. as ‘I’, ‘me’, or ‘mine’). (Stanley, 205) This is sciousness, or awareness without the self. Buddhists refer to this as “anatta”, or no-self9. The practice of meditation is essentially a “stream of sciousness”. We practice sitting for set periods of time, removing and cleansing the filters on our minds, dedicated to spending time with our core selves, in sciousness. Ultimately, the goal is to remain un-done and carry that state, or stream, of sciousness with us through our daily lives. With the addition of “sciousness” to our vernacular, Being aware is simple, but not easy. However, “every sentient being—even insects—have Buddha nature. The seed of Buddha means consciousness, the cognitive power—the seed of enlightenment. That’s from Buddha’s viewpoint. All these destructive things can be removed from the mind, so therefore there’s no reason to believe some sentient being cannot become Buddha.

So every sentient being has that seed.” – His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama, Tenzin Gyatso 8 The deluge of inner monologue that results from the activities of the ego-mind: fantasies, doubts, fears, and the endless lists we create from being either in the future or the past, instead of the present 9 Jonathan Bricklin cleverly describes the individuals who experience “sciousness” (no-self) as “anatta-nauts” 7

it is very clear to see the linear progression of “un-doing” within the terminology, moving from complete unawareness, to fostering awareness of the self and finally developing awareness without the self.

The Pathyway of the Un-doing Breath The breath is often the focal point for meditators. We use it because it’s inexpensive and always present. Even if our minds wander, we have a perpetual ebb and flow of breath providing us with infinite opportunities to gently ease our focus and concentration back on track. If the body is a temple, than our exploration of the temple may also follow a progression, reflecting the same un-doing that is evident in our symbols and our states of awareness. In the beginning, one should focus on the entryway of the body: either the nostrils or the belly. This is a very superficial level of the breath but represents our intention to develop focus and concentration. This entryway corresponds to the transition from an unaware or unconscious state of mind to one of intentional awareness.

After working with the breath on the first level, we move into the vestibule of the body, the respiratory system. We can follow the breath as it enters the body through the nostrils, moves up through the turbinates, further up and over the septum, then down the throat and into the lungs, filling the alveolae, before reversing its direction on the exhalation. During this second stage, our awareness expands into ourselves. We begin to reconnect to the sensations we tune out while occupying our headspace. This transition is important because of how we identify with our existence. I weigh about 190 pounds. Only three of those are my head, yet almost all of my self-identity and awareness comes from way up top. That leaves about 98% of my person experiencing sensations that I’m not remotely tuned into. As we transition from an unconscious state to intentional awareness, we also expand our awareness out of the ego-mind and down into the body.

Finally, we breathe into and throughout the entire body (and even a little beyond), allowing the breath to move past the belly, occupying the pelvis and flowing all the way to the tips of our toes. This also means brings our awareness not just vertically, but to 6 directions: up, down, back, front, and sideto-side. The breath can be felt from the crown of the head to the toes, as well as through the spine. This final step moves our awareness into the stream of sciousness. We drop out of the head and we rest in the sensations of the complete body. From the entryway, to the lobby, to the main temple, we have now traversed from being unaware, to possessing awareness of and within the self, to sciousness and no self (anatta).

Unconsciousness Unaware Temple Gates

Con-sciousness Awareness Temple Vestibule

Sciousness No Self Entire Temple

Conclusion By focusing on the breath--or any object of meditation--we are able to traverse from unconsciousness to consciousness, peeling back further, un-doing all the filters and reconnecting with our cosmic core of sciousness. Sciousness is a brilliant symbol for the un-doing which has been lacking in our Western dialogue. It follows the same linear spirit of un-doing that correlates with the breath and the levels of awareness. It also has the distinct advantage of proximity to our language and culture.

Sciousness does not fall into the enigmatic trap of translation from ancient or foreign texts and parables.

A vast obstacle in educating and discussing mindfulness is the inability to describe the experiences and states that we aspire to reach, mainly because they exist in a plane where labels and symbols are not needed. Meditation is an art of un-doing, and that journey is seen through how we breathe, awaken, and converse about the practice.

Benjamin Irons 2/16/17