Living in a rural area means meeting animals. Particularly in
the winter, when we put food out for the birds, the sense of sharing a
challenging environment and the common need for food and shelter become
apparent. Of course there are preferences: the grey squirrel is regarded as a
pest because it forces out the red squirrel – and chews its way through the
roofs of our kutis in order to nest in the insulation. And when food goes out
for the birds, the squirrels turn up and grab it all. They are cute, agile, voracious and cunning. Like most sentient beings. The magpies bully
the thrushes, the robins fight each other.
Local cats move in and prey on the young rabbits. Us humans defend our waste food from rats and
our roof space from squirrels; and we feed the birds. What we all do is stay
alive and maintain ourselves within a shared environment; clashing when need be
and being gracious when we can. We’re real
creatures, not cartoon figures.
At least some of us are. Because the human world, and the
human mind, are also densely populated with abstractions. Our minds carry
impressions of others – some of whom are the characters we see on the screens
or read about. There’s Bugs Bunny, Mickey Mouse and their descendants; along with actors and
rock stars and the characters in the soap operas whose antics millions will
devotedly watch twice a week for a decade. If the fictional character ‘dies’ or is
written out of the series, people send condolences and want to go to the funeral. These fictional beings become larger
than life role models, icons of the cool and the successful. They form and lead
the culture – so the mind-set of the society gets established around fashion
models and movie stars. Even stranger:
these beings only exist in an abstract, iconic way. We don’t rub up against them
(except when in carefully monitored off-stage walkabouts, or by chance when
they’re out of role) and they are ‘he/she/it’ rather than ‘you’.
The ‘it’ relationship is the dominant mode for information
and data: science, economics and their technologies work in terms of ‘it.’ In
these the aim is clear object-definition and data that are verifiable and
understandable by any number of observers. ‘It’ lives at the end of the
microscope, on the screen, spreadsheet or graph. I am removed from it and
observe it and investigate and experiment on it, secure in the knowledge that
it will not do the same to me. It will not talk to me, or if it does, I will
note that, but not feel any need to reply or be affected by it. The abstract ‘it’ relationship is the one of
the physical sciences, and through their knowledge we can arrange the
phenomenal world to suit us better.
So
‘it’ is one way of measuring and knowing, a way that offers clear object-definition.
But how accurate is it? Perhaps you’re
aware of the incident when David Attenborough, the great British naturalist,
put down his observation role and met a group of gorillas on their own terms.
As an observer, his perception of the gorillas was marked by fear and mistrust:
these were wild, powerful creatures. His comment was: ‘If you
suddenly appeared close to them and took them by surprise, then they would
almost certainly charge.’ ('Gorilla' = savage, beating chest, bared fangs – King
Kong is the figure who represents gorillas) But to his credit, David relaxed in their presence,
and ended up lying alongside a huge male silverback, being cuddled by members
of the group as two young infants inquisitively attempted to remove his shoes.
For him it was a life-changing moment. What
you see depends not just on it, but on how you attend.
On
the other hand there’s the tragic story of a couple who took their young child
to the zoo to see the bears (Bears = cuddly,
teddy bear, Pooh Bear). Smearing honey on their child’s hand (to have the bear
lick it off, like in the cartoons), they poked the little one’s mitt through
the bars to where the bear was – who, naturally enough, bit off the hand.
So correct relationship between sentients depends on appropriate
signalling. ‘This is food for you’,‘This is my territory’, or ‘I’m looking for
a mate.’ If Attenborough had charged into the troop of gorillas waving his
arms, baring his teeth and screaming, the reception would probably have been
very different. And that’s the salient feature and growth point of the ‘you’
relationship: you have to wake up, and check where you’re at with regard to the
other. This is not always so clear with humans, because of the effect of our
projections. I may not give you an accurate signal of where I’m at, because
being clear and direct might be offensive, or make me look needy, pushy or otherwise
‘not right.’ I may see you as someone who has power, or is higher or lower or
the same as me – so that affects how I signal and what boundaries I create. In
that uncertainty, and because most of the people we move past in a day we don’t
contact (and then we watch others on a screen at night), the ‘it’ relationship migrates
into the sentient human world. It’s
easier that way. But the rule is that the lesser the degree of empathy,
the greater the possibility the relationship holds for fantasy, fear, adoration
and other projections.
As with screen-violence and pornography. The thrill perhaps with porn is that the participants are involved in highly intimate and emotionally stirring activity while relating to each other not as in-depth humans but as objects; and witnessed by another uninvolved party. What you see (or imagine) is all there is – it’s all surface and no depth. Actually, within boundaries, any public performers take on the character of an ‘it’; at the roots of performing arts lies the understanding that through such presentation, people can experience emotions that wouldn’t be accessible in their ordinary lives. Taboo energies such as violence can thereby be exorcized. But this always has to be done in a safe place, one clearly set apart from social life. Then when you leave it, you leave behind what it brought up in you. In Greek theatre, the place of performance was sacred and the actors were unnamed – clearly representations, not themselves. Even then the gory stuff was relayed, but not portrayed. There was an understanding that witnessing some acts (sex and violence) sends a charge to the autonomous nervous system that bypasses the reasoning and the empathic intelligence. The witness gets overwhelmed and loses moral awareness – and there is a giddy delight in that. So such acts are therefore to be held as (in Latin) ‘ob scena’ – obscene, literally ‘off-stage’. If we open to the obscene, we are at risk: pornography and violence etch their signals into consciousness and become addictive.
So how much TV, and what novels should you read? To the
Buddha, the mediation between fearful censorship and carelessness is up to each
individual’s ‘deep attention’ (yoniso
manasikāra). This attention – that literally ‘goes to the source’ – doesn’t
support the myth of objectivity. Rather than adopting the premise of a self
that exists independent of what it contacts, deep attention acknowledges that
our mind is always affected. And the affects of fear or gratitude or aversion
and so on tend to be retained as impressions that we carry around like
photographs. So the human responsibility is to cultivate awareness of how the
mind is affected by the immediate effect, or by the mental ‘photograph’.
What
are the things unfit for attention that he does not attend to? They are things
such that when he attends to them, the unarisen taint of sensual desire arises
… and the arisen taint of ignorance increases …’ [and vice versa] M2.10
This is not a matter of criticising one’s confused or
negative mind states. Deep attention creates a sacred space of non-judgement,
but the boundary is restraint – you don’t act out the states. Then deep
attention can investigate and dismantle unskilful ones:
...There are, bhikkhus,
wholesome and unwholesome states, blameable and blameless states, inferior and
superior states, dark and
bright
states with their
counterparts: frequently giving deep attention to them nourishes the arising of ... and fulfils by developing, the enlightenment factor of investigation of states. S 46.51
Deep attention then witnesses in line with cause and effect: what
attracts and interests me, and how this affects me. We can retain and dwell
upon uplifting impressions of other people’s kindness; or we can look into the
patterns of fear, aversion or addictive greed. Most significantly, through maintaining
the boundary between these states and our actions, we can exorcize our demons. If
the attention is wise and deep it isn’t mesmerized by the object, it sees the
figures of threat or hate not as people, but as phenomena that have to be
related to but not fixated on. They’re really just echoes and representations. And
with calm, clarity and empathy, we can learn from them and let them go.
However when there is careless, superficial attention, the
demons stay with us and we assume that their messages of who we are/he is and
what we/he should be are about real people. This is because when attention sees
things as ‘it’, the difference between fantasy images and responsive reality
get blurred. ‘It’ doesn’t support the kind of response that’s appropriate for
sentiency. ‘It’ is a topic for fixation and feeding on, not for relating
to. As in the realm of non-stop media
and glowing screens, where fiction and reality TV is interleaved with news and
commercials: you observe, but you can’t respond. And when there’s news from
war-zones following on from a violent movie, does the mind/heart really know
that these are different realities? When
you get used to seeing impressive characters blasting people away with their
high-tech weapons, doesn’t a percentage of humanity get attracted to doing just
that? Is real, responsible life getting replaced by theatre?
You may recall the Stanley Milgram experiments of the 1960s,
experiments that included two actors – one acting as the supervisor of the
experiment (wearing a white coat), and one who was pretending to be a learner
whose learning would be accelerated by being given electric shocks, in
increasingly high voltage, every time he made a mistake. The third person, who
was the real subject of the experiment and didn’t know that the other two were
acting carefully rehearsed roles, would be ‘teaching’ the actor-learner by reading a list of word
pairs, then repeating the first word of each pair and having the learner
respond with the second. If the learner got the word wrong, the teacher would
push a button that he believed to cause an electric shock to be delivered to
the learner. Actually, no electric shock was administered, but the
actor-learner would act as if there was. Every time the learner made a mistake,
the teacher was led to believe that the voltage being delivered (and labelled
as ‘intense’ and ‘dangerous’ on the control panel in front of him) was
increased. After a number of voltage level increases, the teacher could hear
the actor-learner screaming and even banging on the wall that separated them. Although
teachers might then wish to stop the experiment, the white-coated supervisor
would calmly insist that they continue, in the interests of the experiment.
Despite the actor-learner manifesting increasing degrees of agony over the
‘increased voltage’ (to the point of collapsing), over sixty percent of the
educators would continue to ‘increase the voltage’ up to a massive and
generally fatal 450 volts, even although they questioned the experiment, and
felt emotional and physical discomfort over continuing.
The experiment was designed to measure the degree to which an
average person will override their empathic and ethical sense under the
influence of authority. It highlights the willingness we have to allow official,
scientific and organizing activities to abuse our moral attention. Convinced
that they are by necessity on the receiving end of a control system, human
beings blindly adopt the ‘it’ relationship. The effect is heightened when the
control system is ruled by a principle or a mission. On the more horrific end
of the scale we note Auschwitz and Tuol Sleng and the neo-Nazi massacre in
Norway in 2011 as instances where humans were treated as ‘its’ and subject to a
higher principle. But then there’s the Rwanda genocide, ethnic cleansing in
Yugoslavia, and the genocide and slavery that accompanied the colonisation of
the New World. On a day-to-day basis we
can feel this ‘non-negotiable’ effect in procedures that involve an official: ‘I’m
sorry madam, but you’re form isn’t filled in properly, you can’t board the
plane …’ ‘But my son ...’ ‘I’m sorry,
madam …’ As we can see in the current and prolonged economic crisis in the
West, economic theory and fiscal policy translates into and impacts the reality
of daily life. There’s a dramatic clash between abstracts like the euro,
deficits and interest rates and the lived reality of getting food, shelter and
a decent way of making a living. Of even
more widespread and long-term concern is the way that the Earth itself is an ‘it’.
Probe it, frack it, blast it, no matter what the toxic effect; the oceans are ‘it’:
dump whatever you don’t want in them. Even though the poisons will work their
way up the food chain and into your body, the air becomes unbreathable and the
soil washes away. This is the result of wrong attention. If you can’t engage
the rational and empathic centres when you deal with any aspect of the
biosphere, if others are passive ‘its’, suffering and stress will surely follow.
'It' relationships are a part of how we relate to existence.
They offer simplistic clarity and free range to follow our wishes and
projections. They present control of the other as a conceivable, and in fact
optimal, relationship. To accomplish this we employ quick techno-fixes, fiscal
sleight of hand, and use guns and tear-gas if necessary. Yet as cause and effect – kamma – is always involved with any act of
attention, we reap many results. For example, when we hold our minds in that
relationship, when the mind is an object that has to be straight and right and
always ready to work, inner demons prosper and flourish. More common than any
fire-breathing goblin with a trident is the authoritative voice of the demon
that pushes people to work all hours calmly insisting that they continue to do
so for the sake of the future; or the ones that get people to swindle and lie
for the sake of the company; or the ones that get people to kill for the sake
of God, the nation, the mission. Rather like the ‘teacher’ in the Milgram
experiment, we may notice that the mind is resisting, or in stress, but many of
us continue to increase the voltage. In the
‘it’ domain, abstractions rule.
Perhaps for the scientific mind, the most difficult thing to
accept is that it can’t know an object. That approach merely measures; it can’t
deeply understand the empty conditioned nature of things – the awareness that
offers release. But with deep attention what we take stock of is the mind-state at this moment. You
don’t know the other, but you are aware of your mind’s dwelling in worry or
irritation, kindness or appreciation. You know the results of staying in that.
So you bring forth what will sustain the mind in honesty, clarity and kindness.
What we can deeply know is relational respect. Respect for self and respect for
others (hiri-ottappa): these are the guardians
of the world, parents of morality and kindness.
To guard the inner and outer worlds entails regarding all
things in the ‘me-you’ relationship. You surprise me. You frustrate and delight
me, and teach me about real life by not fitting into my projections. You are
generous for no apparent reason, forgiving when I expect blame, and calmly
unimpressed when I am at my melodramatic peak. I never understand you. There is
the pain of attachment if we take any one being as a real and solid ‘you’ – yet,
how could I live without ‘you’? The fact is, I don’t have to. ‘You’ as a relationship
is a mode of attention that can allow any individual thing to pass through its
lens, and teach ‘me’ to wake up.
Very true and in these times when politicians across Europe refuse to see inter-connection we see the devastating results. It's rather scary.
ReplyDelete"'You' as a relationship is a mode of attention..." I've been sitting with this for a few days now. What is its meaning? The heart's initial response was one of disquiet. Partly the result of the discomfort of not understanding. But it felt like there was something deeper than that. A need to have the 'you' relationship as something more solid, more fixed, than "a mode of attention." It reminded me of an experience I'd had several years ago following a dharma talk on the five aggregates during a retreat at Spirit Rock. For the first time it had struck me that the teaching on the aggregates didn't apply only to me. It applied to everyone around me including the teachers. For some reason this was more unsettling, more destabalizing, than applying the teaching to loosen my own sense of self. Irrationally perhaps, the feeling was that it was safe to carry out this challenging and scary work of self de-construction only if the teacher was solid, fixed, reliable. Hmmmm. Sounds like a bit of sleight of hand. I could let go of the sense of 'me' as long as the teacher could be relied on to hold that 'me' in my stead. Whew. A bit of confusion here. For the time being, I think I'll just rest with that.
ReplyDeleteApplying a 'you' attention means that the subject and the object become interchangeable: 'how would it feel to be in his/her shoes?' Of course you don't know – but the sense of conscience and concern opens. That sense is holistic - 'to others as to myself' and doesn't disconnect from the 'I'. The stability lies in maintaining that relationship.
ReplyDeletePolitics is the process whereby a group of 'I's are cast into a single unit of 'we.' If that process bypasses the 'you' phase of mutual acknowledgement, the result is various forms of tyranny. The problem of nation-states and central government is that the numbers are too big for a 'you' process. So what is needed are tiers of local governments to form more authentic consensus, with the central government supervising ethical standards and co-ordination. This is how Sangha works.