Like something out of a science fiction film, we are trapped in a prison-like world from which even escape is only an illusion of escape; which is a necessary part of that prison-like world. In other words, there is no real escape. As if we were under the power of some demon-like alien race, we are forever going from one birth and death to still another birth and death while denying that we do so.
What makes this prison work? It is consciousness (P., viññāṇa; S., vijñāna) which literally in Pali and Sanskrit means “in two parts knowing” — a kind of mutually reinforcing mind-system in which each side influences the other while at the same time maintaining each their difference (the Buddha likens it to a magician's illusion). We can find no way to break out of it despite our efforts.
Consciousness, for this reason, has an important place in Buddhist meditation generally known as dhyāna. It’s goal is to overcome the subtle states (S., sthiti) of consciousness; to ferret out all of its resting-places (S., sthiti).
The highest state of consciousness is the sphere of neither saṃjñā nor asaṃjñā. Here saṃjñā is closer to a ‘conception’ or a ‘percept’ in the sense of an impression. Asaṃjñā is a bit more subtle. It suggests impressionlessness, i.e., a blank. Translated into more simple terms, this is a state of neither-conception nor non-conception. According to the Buddha even this sublime state does not imply final emancipation or nirvana which is the cessation of all conceptual and empirical experience. Only in nirvana or the unconditioned does consciousness not find a resting-place.
Few in Buddhism understand meditation this way. The huge majority treat it as almost a ritual of sitting. What it yields in the way of happiness I contend is from the placebo effect. But this is not real meditation which has to overcome consciousness and reach the true ground of existence—the most fundamental essence. Consciousness in this regard is but a mode of this fundamental essence which unfortunately leads us never other than in a circle.
Consciousness is also the dark world of the people who live in Plato’s cave; who cannot somehow break free from their bonds and if they did, would be unable to explain what they beheld outside of the cave to those who are still prisoners in the cave. This is not far from the Buddhist story of the turtle and the fish. Bhikkhu Bodhi tells the story:
There was once a turtle who lived in a lake with a group of fish. One day the turtle went for a walk on dry land. He was away from the lake for a few weeks. When he returned he met some of the fish. The fish asked him, "Mister turtle, hello! How are you? We have not seen you for a few weeks. Where have you been? The turtle said, "I was up on the land, I have been spending some time on dry land." The fish were a little puzzled and they said, "Up on dry land? What are you talking about? What is this dry land? Is it wet?" The turtle said "No, it is not," "Is it cool and refreshing?" "No, it is not", "Does it have waves and ripples?" "No, it does not have waves and ripples." "Can you swim in it?" "No you can't" So the fish said, "it is not wet, it is not cool, there are no waves, you can’t swim in it. So this dry land of yours must be completely non-existent, just an imaginary thing, nothing real at all." The turtle said that "Well, maybe so" and he left the fish and went for another walk on dry land.
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