The Zennist

Buddhist apophasis

The apophatic methodology, also known as the via negativa, is something not absent from the canon of Buddhism.  Apophasis or negation, for example, occurs when the Buddha inventories the Five Aggregates, consisting of form, sensation, perception, predispositions, and consciousness, and finds them to be not the self or anatma.  In this respect, these aggregates do not belong to him, fundamentally.  They are, in other words, what he is not, viz., not his self.

The method of Buddhist emptiness is another form of Buddhist apophasis.  One of perhaps the earliest formulas of emptiness occurs in the Culasuññata Sutta of the Pali Canon.  

“He regards that which is not there as empty of it.  But in regard to what remains there he comprehends, ‘That being, this is.’  Thus, Ananda, this comes to be for him a true, not a mistaken, utterly purified realisaton of (the concept) of emptiness” (M. i. 104–105).

In Vasubandhu's Madhyantavibhaga he defines emptiness in the following way which is not unlike the definition in the Culasuññata Sutta:

"It is perceived as it really is that, when anything does not exist in something, the latter is empty with regard to the former; and further it is understood as it really is that, when, in this place, something remains, it exists here as a real existent."

Under this definition we will use the example of mind perturbations (âsravas) as being the emptable or removable part of mind that doesn't belong to mind's true nature.  

In apophasis, the âsrava obstructed mind is confronted by the, as yet, hidden, potentially transcendent mind.  The transcendent mind removes from its primordial field all âsrava/perturbations arriving finally at itself.  This arriving-at-self, is none other than nirvana and pure Mind which is absolutely free of perturbations.  And for this reason, in the Pali canon, this emptiness of Mind is called paramanuttara suññatâ i.e., the incomparably highest emptiness.

Since mind has always been implicitly behind the removing or emptying-out process—although hidden from itself—by removing the three obscuring perturbations consisting of sensuality, becoming, and nescience (sometimes there is a fourth, which is view) mind has no other course than to eventually arrive at itself as pure Mind which is luminous and absolutely self-affirming.

Apophasis, if applied correctly, proceeds to what is most primordial and everlasting (nitya).  In the incomparably highest emptiness Mind is the immaculate medium of all in which all is seen—but as what is not the absolute Mind.  In this state one is Mind being now liberated from blindly following its perturbations in the belief that these conditions were it. 

A map to nirvana

The discourses (Sutras) of the Buddha are in essence road maps to nirvana or if you prefer navigational maps to the other shore of nirvana.  In no way should we confuse the map with the land itself.  Nirvana is an actual attainment whereas the Buddha's discourses, no matter how much we prize them, are simply the means.  They are like the finger pointing to the moon—not the moon.

A map of California on which we’ve just highlighted the route we are going to take from Lodi to Yosemite valley is not Yosemite, nor even California.  We understand this.  We might even imagine adding to this map photographs together with detailed descriptions of sights others have seen on the way to Yosemite.  Still, we understand that these additions are not Yosemite.  Far from it.

Now let’s imagine that someone informs us that the route we have just highlighted is not Yosemite.  Yosemite is nothing more than a name printed on this map.  He then asks us not to travel to Yosemite because it only exists on this map and what is on this map is only print.  At this point we might protest and tell this guy that he’s crazy.  We respond, “Yosemite does exist because others have been there.”  But no matter what we say or how many times, this guy still insists that Yosemite is just the printed word “Yosemite”—moreover, this map is just made of paper.  It is not even California.  Of course we know that Yosemite does in fact exist as does California.  We ignore this guy and drive to Yosemite.  Arriving, we hike up to Vernal Falls and enjoy a nice lunch we’ve packed.  

When it comes to maps in the form of the Buddha’s discourses or Sutras it is not that difficult to disregard their usefulness as navigational tools.  In the intellectual history of Buddhism, some Buddhists like the guy who is positive that Yosemite is just a mere name, insist that the Buddha’s discourses are not like maps at all.  The Buddha is just telling us that everything is empty—and samsara turns into nirvana when you realize and see the emptiness of everything.  There is, in fact, no ultimate reality like nirvana.

Next, we might imagine a dispute taking place between a school that asserts the Buddha’s discourses are like maps that will lead us to ultimate reality and a school that says the discourses teach no-maps and all is empty with self-nature being also empty.  Now let’s further imagine someone just recently awakened who has actually seen ultimate reality, then declares that the discourses of the Buddha are certainly like maps which help us to find ultimate reality.  Of course the other school, that asserts the discourses are not like maps at all, says of this person that he is mentally deranged.  

In the end, the school that asserts the Buddha’s discourses are like maps, that will lead us to ultimate reality, has to shun the school that doesn’t.  There is nothing to be gained by disputing with nihilists.

This brings to mind Wittgenstein who seemed forced to conclude there is no discoverable reality beyond the pale of language which means true reality will be forever beyond human cognition.  But certain kinds of maps, in the example of the Buddha’s discourses, can act as a bridge whereby we can discover true reality, that is, set foot on the other shore of nirvana.  Those who don’t treat the Buddha’s discourses like maps by which to accomplish the gnosis of ultimate reality really don’t understand Buddhism and perhaps never will.

Thought is their master

We are often blind as to the negative effects of thinking and thought, or the same, that unforeseen failures such as with large systems are largely due to the thoughts by which they are created and sustained.  This is what the Buddha meant in the Dhammapada when he said “Events (dhammâ) are preceded by thought. Thought is their master. They are made by thought.”  This further suggests that the main source of our problems is thought, itself, which paradoxically we use to try to solve our problems which only makes the problem worse.  On this subject the late physicist David Bohm noted:

“What is the source of all this trouble? That is really what we have been concerned with in all these dialogues of the past few years. I’m saying that the source is basically in thought. Many people would think that such a statement is crazy, because thought is the one thing we have with which to solve our problems. That’s part of our tradition. Yet it looks as if the thing we use to solve our problems is the source of our problems” (David Bohm, Thought as a System, 2)

The Buddha and David Bohm both understood that thoughts are not impotent or just tools to use as we see fit.  Far from it.  As Bohm points out, thoughts essentially use us.  

“But I want to say that you don’t decide what to do with the information. The information takes over. It runs you. Thought runs you. Thought, however, gives the false information that you are running it, that you are the one who controls thought, whereas actually thought is the one which controls each one of us” (David Bohm, Thought as a System, 5).

Indeed, thoughts have an effective power.  To the extent that we believe we are not moved by thoughts, in that proportion we probably are.  Thoughts, in this respect, produce a kind of spell over us.  We go to schools and universities to learn systems of thought which amounts to a kind of trance induction.  Our minds are subsequently programmed with thoughts which will determine how we perceive the world and make decisions.  

Least we forget, thoughts create nations and wars.  They create and shape religion.  Moreover, they are at the core of religious disputes and inquisitions.  Thoughts destroy nature, produce famine and disease while creating systems of governance of which the devil would be proud.  Thoughts also create economic systems which lead to recessions and great depressions.  Thoughts even produce an astonishing number of iatrogenic or physician induced deaths each year (some 250,000!), then tell us this is okay—it’s acceptable in light of the good being done!

One never thinks as the Buddha did to blame negative or evil consequences on thought, itself.  Thoughts are supposed to be harmless.  But this is clearly not the case.  Nor does it count for anything that our intentions are good.  The fact of the matter is that negative consequences often arise as a result of our thoughts although we have good intentions.  

While it is easy to point the finger at others when systems fail or our life is not working out as we imagined it would, the real blame lies with thoughts.  In other words, we have been used by bad thoughts which will lead to a bad outcome—always.  Incidentally, it never dawns on us to interrogate thought, rigorously, questioning where certain thoughts are leading us and to what doom.  We are more like sheep in this than rational humans.

It is pertinent to say that the reason that we are presently facing a depression; a crisis in our healthcare system; an environmental catastrophe is because of the preponderance of  thoughts that are unsound and often contradictory.  To be sure, all of these problems were created by thoughts that were never entirely sound, rational or based on credible hard evidence.  Even science fails, miserably.  Most of science is an elaborate fiction of what might be in terms of thought, but is not in terms of hard physical evidence.    

Thought is very capable of creating fictions of what might be but never is.  Thoughts can produce hypotheses, models, and hunches faster than a German sausage machine can pump out sausage.  Yet with all this thought which fills thousands of acres of books, man is still more like a barbarian than a civilized being who is, above all, compassionate.

But let us also not forget that thoughts can wrongly arouse our emotions as when at night when we hear a sound outside our home and imagine that someone is breaking into our car only to find out upon inspection that nothing has happened.  But worse, thoughts can arouse our emotions so that we hate and fear Native Americans, Asians, and African Americans.  Thoughts can drive us to hate Muslims or drive us to embrace psychopaths and do horrible things in the name of God.  Again, citing from Bohm’s book, Thought as a System:

“The thought of something pleasant will make you feel good. The thought that you are doing great will make you feel good inside—all the good feelings will come out. Or the thought that you have done something wrong may make the adrenalin flow, may make you feel guilty. If somebody says you are guilty, which is a thought, then you can feel very miserable. Feelings are tremendously affected by thoughts. And obviously thoughts are tremendously affected by feelings, because if you are angry you don’t think clearly. Likewise, if you have a feeling of pleasure in something you may find yourself reluctant to give up that idea which gives you pleasure, even if it is wrong—you engage in self-deception” (7).

What the Buddha asks us to keep in mind with regard to thought is the outcome of thought, especially, in light of the negative events that again, and again arise from thought.  History, in fact, if it is done right, is a good teacher of how deceptive thoughts can be and how they can destroy us by creating artificial divisions and problems where there are none.  

The history of the last four hundred years of Western civilization is such a history of bad thought which produced evil consequences.  And likely the evil consequences will occur again if we don’t critically interrogate thought and toss some thoughts into the waste bin of history that promised us much but delivered only more suffering such as our current economic system based on greed and the purposeful mal-distrubution of wealth.  And this also goes for thoughts used by certain religions that look to the future for a savior to deliver the flock from their backwardness and violence.  And this includes a secular society as well whose systems of thoughts drive sentient beings to value selfishness, materialism, and nihilism.

The deluded life goes on

Paradoxically, we are immersed in the immediacy of the absolute.  But all that we are capable of perceiving is the phenomena of this absolute—in fact, only its temporal, wavelike aspect.  The external world before us including our own subjective world, amounts to nothing more than wavelike phenomena.  Making matters much worse, we cling to this wavelike phenomena and as we do our suffering grows and deepens.  As a result, we become even more deluded.  In the main, our suffering doesn’t, by any measure, diminish as we age no matter how hard we might insist that it does.  

This problem has been around for a long time.  I am not the only one to have noticed this.  Bodhidharma noticed it ages ago.

"The Buddha said people are deluded. This is why when they act they fall into the River of Endless Rebirth. And when they try to get out, they only sink deeper. And all because they don't see their nature. If people weren't deluded, why would they ask about something right in front of them?  Not one of them understands the movement of his own hands and feet.  The Buddha wasn't mistaken. Deluded people don't know who they are.  Something so hard to fathom is known by a Buddha and no one else. Only the wise know this mind, this mind called dharma-nature, this mind called liberation. Neither life nor death can restrain this mind. Nothing can. It's also called the Unstoppable Tathagata, the Incomprehensible, the Sacred Self, the Immortal, the Great Sage.  Its names vary, but not its essence.  Buddhas vary too, but none leaves his own mind" (Red Pine, Zen Teaching of Bodhidharma, 22-23).

What Bodhidharma is saying is quite profound.  That which animates us is the absolute but our delusions prevent us from turning to it—enough to profoundly realize it.  Yet, I have to think, by the evidence around me, that most people could no care less about such matters.  Mundane life must go on.  And so it follows, the deluded people of the world will get in their automobiles this morning, drive to work or walk down a dusty trail with their empty plastic buckets to get water.  As far as their religion goes for deluded people, it must be a religion that promises to turn every sow’s ear into a silk purse; make fortune come from misfortune and, make good arise from the deep pit of evil.

The U.S. wrestles with its conscience (again)

Going back to the great supporter of religious Dharma including Buddhism, India’s king, Ashoka (304 B.C.–232 B.C.), was also recognized for his nonviolence (ahimsa) and compassion, especially, in providing essentially free healthcare for humans and animals.  As a test of his greatness, the great Ashoka transformed India into a state which even by modern standards was advanced and likely will never be duplicated since the lot of men and their leaders, these days, are more interested in controlling the reins of the power rather than helping sentient beings.

It is an unfortunate judgment, but we can measure the true compassion of a country by its healthcare system and whether or not it extends to all the people or to just to those who can afford it—the very few.  Indeed, as with the example of king Ashoka, what makes a country truly great is what it does for the good of all sentient beings—never for just the few who vainly crave to stay in power at any cost even if it means the ruin of their country.  Keep in mind that it is the latter who bring us, always, war, poverty, famine, and disease.  

These beings who crave to stay in power at the expense of the people are the Icchantika of whom the Buddha said lack the capacity to awaken.  In addition, they so lack empathy that it would not be wrong to call them incorrigibly evil.  In modern terms, these Icchantika are psychopaths who make up a significant portion of the business community according to the leading expert on psychopathy, Dr. Robert Hare.  By implication, these psychopaths also make up the managerial strata of our healthcare system insuring that profit and harm are the norm of the healthcare system.  This may also provide some basis to explain why, according to the AMA, physicians are the third leading cause of death in the U.S.—an astonishing figure if you consider this is more than the equivalent of one Boeing 747 crashing each day. 

Presently, the United States is wrestling with its conscience deciding whether it is going to be regarded as a nation of compassion or a nation that celebrates cruelty which is considered in Buddhism to be the polar opposite of compassion.  So far history shows us the U.S. lacks, even by its own standards of excellence, compassion for all of its people.  Given this, I seriously doubt that we will have a healthcare system for the people.  It will continue to be for those who can afford it which gets to be fewer and fewer each day as the recession worsens.

Having faith

What is meant by faith (S., sraddhâ: P., saddhâ) in Buddhism?  I think we all sort of know but at a fuzzy, common sense level.  A good way to illustrate faith is with the simple example of learning how to swim.  

When you were growing up and went to the public swimming pool for the first time you saw other children who were swimming.  Although you knew, at the time, that you not only feared the deep end of the pool but couldn’t swim, still, you had the confidence that you might eventually learn to swim since you saw other children of your own age swimming.  This, in a nutshell, is faith because although you can’t swim you are confident that you can learn how to swim and will eventually swim.  

With faith we can surmise Buddhists in the past realized nirvana or the pure Mind, or came close.  Although for us, we have not had the gnosis of nirvana or pure Mind, still we are confident that it is probable to realize such—with a lot of effort.  This is precisely what the Buddha had in mind when he told Bodhi Rajakumara that in order to learn the art of elephant riding and using the hook, faith was necessary.  For if one lacked faith how might they be able to accomplish the art?  As we can now see, faith comes before the actual accomplishment or realization.  In fact, faith is a very necessary part of the learning process.  

Faith also becomes less and less necessary when we begin to accomplish our goal.  When one has the gnosis of pure Mind, they have surpassed faith, the faith necessary for its accomplishment.  They no longer need it because they know pure Mind.  This is why an Arhat is described in the Dhammapada (97) as a being who is “free from faith” (assaddho) because he knows the increate (akataññû).

Changing gears, faith shouldn’t be confused with belief.  The logic of belief is one step down from faith.  It presupposes the impossible might well be true and might well happen.  Belief, in other words, is based on the impossible becoming real.  It only requires of us invincible ignorance and the stubborn unwillingness to admit that our position is absurd  But faith is not like this.  With faith there is always a reasonable assurance of attainment.  Where there is not, faith turns into belief.

The wrong mind in mind

The ordinary mind of a sentient being is more or less sensory consciousness.  One can say of it that it perceives reality in the way of seeing, hearing, feeling, conceptualizing, and being self-aware.  When the question is asked, “What is the pure, luminous Mind?” it is the ordinary mind that wants to perceive it.  But the luminous Mind (prabhâsvaracitta) is not accessible to sensory consciousness although the latter is contained in Mind which has no sensory characteristics.  Zen master Huang-po said of this Mind:

It is not green nor yellow, and has neither form nor appearance.  It does not belong to the categories of things which exist or do not exist, nor can it be thought of in terms of new or old.

To say the least, this presents the ordinary mind of a sentient being with a seemingly insurmountable problem:  how to gain access to the luminous Mind without trying to search for it under familiar sense related categories.  This was Huike’s problem when he came to Bodhidharma for help.  His long quest for the true Mind had eluded him.  His  meeting with Bodhidharma is found in the Collection from the Founder’s Halls (1.73, 6ff.).

“Huike:  ‘Please, Master, bring peace to my heart-mind!’  Bodhidharma:  ‘Show me your heart-mind, and I will pacify it!’  Huike:  ‘I have searched for it, but I could not find it.’  Bodhidharma:  ‘If you could search for it, how could it be your very own heart-mind?  And how should I bring peace to it?’  Then Bodhidharma said to Huike, ‘I have once and for all pacified the heart-mind for you.  Do you now see it?’  At these words, Huike was greatly awakened” (trans. Urs App).

As it seems clear, Huike had the wrong mind in mind!  He was using his sensory consciousness in an effort to try and perceive the luminous Mind as if it were a determinate thing.  His repeated failures had finally driven him to seek out the help of Bodhidharma.  Ironically, from Bodhidharma's perspective Huike was like a moron who went in search of light using a lighted candle or as the old Zen saying goes, he went riding an ass in search of an ass.  He didn't understand what the luminous really meant—yet he was using it all the time.

As long as we try to pigeonhole the luminous, animative Mind that gives our body life, into something for sensory consciousness we will never meet such a Mind face to face.  Reminding us of such a mind, Bodhidharma says:

“The Buddha is your real body, your original mind.  This mind has no form or characteristics, no cause or effect, no tendons or bones.  It’s like space.  You can’t hold it.  It’s not the mind of materialists or nihilist.  Except for a tathagata, no one else—no mortal no deluded being—can fathom it” (trans. Red Pine).

The real problem

The problem with self or atman in Buddhism is not the self, it lies with what we attach to a being the self.  In this respect, it is a huge mistake to naively assume that the Pali canon, for example, is clear with its presentation of the Buddha as a self-denier.  It is not.  

The standard formula extensively used throughout the Pali canon is that the Five Aggregates  (form, sensation, perception, latent tendencies or predispositions, and consciousness) are not the self.  The Buddha also explains why.  It is because these aggregates are impermanent and suffer.  They are also illusory.  Moreover, they belong to Mara the Evil One—Buddhism’s devil (S.iii.189).

But now I want to go back to the first part which is the problem with self, the problem being that we attach or crave to what is not the self, namely, the Five Aggregates.  Giving this problem some academic precision Erich Frauwaller observes:

“He [the Buddha] does not say that we should know the true self, but that we must not regard as the self (âtmâ, p. attâ) that which is not the self.  For otherwise craving clings to this false self, and thus brings about an entanglement in the cycle of beings.  And salvation takes place not through our becoming conscious of the true self, but through our recognizing as not-self (anatmâ, P. anattâ) all that is falsely regarded as the self, and so detaching desire therefrom” (Geschichte der indischen Philosophie, vol. I, 1953).

It should be apparent that craving or clinging to the Five Aggregates is the real problem—not the self.  In whatever way we may wish to say it, we are not these aggregates regardless of how important and vital they seem to be even if they constitute our mental life and the physical body with its senses.  Clinging to them goes contrary to the Buddha’s teaching.  By the same token, if what I call my self is what is liberated from the Five Aggregates, the Buddha did not teach against this.  

Self-help industrial complex (SHIC)

The self-help industrial complex (SHIC pronounced 'chic') has been around for a long time and I suspect very profitable for some.  From what I can gather, philosophically speaking, SHIC tends to go in the direction of antimodernism, although to be somewhat cynical, SHIC couldn't make a dime without the evils of modernity.  

Of SHIC’s members there are those who are committed to optimism and rational self-mastery and self-improvement.  They teach us that if you work hard enough you will achieve your goals or get damn close.  Above all, you won’t go into the loser column.  And then there are those who emphasize self-realization by teaching how to live hassle free (non-dualistically of course) in the here and now (for example, Eckhart Tolle).

Looked at from the side of capitalism SHIC represents a transfer of money from the pockets of almost losers to the bank accounts of the winners who have managed to convince the almost losers that if they buy enough of their SHIC books, CDs, and attend a lot of their special events, some of the winner's good monetary karma will rub off on them.

Of course, from a Buddhist perspective SHIC comes under the banner of samsara which means it acts as a diversion.  To put it more concisely, SHIC is a clever means by which to put off doing any spiritual work which might otherwise lead to liberation from the wheel of samsara.   To be sure, the SHIC teachers offer no attempt to break out of  samsara’s cycle of birth and death.  

As I see it, the apex of SHIC, if you are a rationalist, is keep pushing the envelop of your abilities within the ‘burning house of the triple world’ to borrow a turn of phrase from the Lotus Sutra.  And if you are more inclined towards self-realization, you deeply believe that under certain conditions, samsara can be lived in such a way that samsara can almost be pain free.  It just all depends on learning how to live in the here and now—mainly the “now” because you are already here.

While many of the self-realization SHIC teachers like Eckhart Tolle have high praise for Buddhism, they look at it like a smorgasbord.  They take portions of it which suit their own particular view of reality, and leave the rest.  

Admittedly, the study and practice of Buddhism appears difficult while SHIC seems easier.  But this is only because Buddhism is being taught to the spiritually ignorant who, previously, dedicated their lives to materialism only to catch the debilitating disease of nihilism.  In other words, Buddhism seems difficult because many who take it up as a study are trying to understand it through the filters of materialism.  In this respect, Buddhism has to deploy skillful means to help the average person turn off their filters.  This is why Buddhism seems complicated.  SHIC, on the other hand, just paints the wagon of materialism a different color.  As for the wagon’s prime mover, it places a pretty flower in the old nag’s hat.  It all seems bright and happy.  But it’s still samsara.

The endlessly turning samsaric worm

One can’t be a skeptic forever, nor even a diehard agnostic—at least not without something to remain indifferent to or reject.  What is not realized is that for anyone who takes such a course they become somewhat like the ancient Ouroboros depicted as a snake biting its own tail which, as a symbol, has various meanings.  

The naked truth is that a skeptic or an agnostic still has a hold of their tail.  They are still an Ouroboros.  They have just chosen to be indifferent (epoche) to biting their tail, holding on to it while laughing at others, in the meantime, who are obsessed with the belief that they can reach the head and with it the absolute by consuming their tail.

But there is more to this.  At least for me, I see the Ouroboros as symbolizing the skeptic’s need to convince oneself and others of the impossibility of truth (but it is only truth as something posited and determinate in the way of a subtle mental image).  No matter in whatever way the Ouroboros seizes its tail (i.e., the mental image), it cannot reach its head, i.e., the truth.  It merely turns in a vicious circle—a circle of samsara.  For the skeptic and the agnostic, the only solution is thus to declare this Ouroboros phenomenon as empty and meaningless and leave it at that.

However, it would seem that the better solution is for the Ouroboros to let go of its tail.  But this could very well mean the disappearance of the Ouroboros, itself, including the head.  To a large extent this is what actually happens when we are successful with a koan or have had some kind of intuitive breakthrough.  We let go of the tail of the Ouroboros for a second or two, and discover the real absolute that lies beyond the Ouroboros world.

This leads me to say that when we let go of our tails—if only for a second—we become mystics.  After this, we have no need for skepticism or agnosticism and, to be sure, no need for dogma.  These things were part of the Ouroboros: the endlessly turning samsaric worm.