I am going to break with my custom of using an excerpt from a book in this blog post. Instead, I am going to refer to a discussion I had about "spiritual experience."
Some interesting research findings that were offered in the discussion included the sense of an expansive "self" brought about by the quieting (inhibition) of the neurocognitive systems that underlie our sense of proprioception. In other words, as participants in the study meditated, their sense of having a distinct self in a distinct body separate from all other things outside of its boundary was attenuated. In the way an ice cube in a glass of water melts into the water, the sense of self melts into the environment. I suggested that these findings seem to be related to what Jill Bolte Taylor speaks of in her talk about how it feels to have a stroke: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UyyjU8fzEYU
Because these kinds of experiences are so powerful, they become transformative. The person is not changed by repetition or by a gradual progress, but instantly. Counter to the popular view that a person must work hard to achieve spiritual growth, this transformation occurs in one experience. The experience is very raw and is as real as the rest of one's life. A critical difference, it seems, is that the experience is truly ineffable. But, the mind cannot accept this fact. It must describe it! Not only for oneself, but to tell the story to others. In this urge begins the corruption, and the dangerous unfolding of a series of consequences.
As the mind tries to cope, categorize, and report on this profound experience, it starts to break it down into a sequence of distinct serially-based events. Language itself is serial, so the experience must be fragmented in the same way. Unfortunately, it's a bit like unraveling a yarn sweater. As each loop is undone, so is the sweater. The experience is then fully described, but it is reduced to a pool of yarn; it is jumbled and lacks integrity of meaning. That is the most common way to share that experience. One can use language in different ways, like the evocative art of poetry, but again, the experience is susceptible to "interpretation." Visual arts, likewise, are able to be parsed and possibly misconstrued.
Despite this, the experience has this potency that the experiencer does not want to ignore, abandon, or just forget. That experiencer gets so invigorated that she wants to share it with the world. She wants to make that experience a cornerstone of her life. It becomes much more important than the other, rather mundane, experiences. Using the interpretation she finds most appealing, she shares that expression widely and passionately. People notice a transformation--the charm in her voice--and they are attracted to that. They rally around here. A business is born, or perhaps a church......what's the difference? The charm of the leader and the description of the experience become the point of fixation (since they can't all just have the authentic experience). Means of creating that experience get laid out neatly. Dogma. Religion.
The momentum is like that depicted of the chasing boulder in Indiana Jones (Raiders). It will crush any opposition. Watch out! The boulder has no time to rest and to be self-aware.
The raw experience came and went, but the aftermath lingers, on and on. The reasons for that experience, whether it arose serendipitously from meditation or prayer, or by a stroke, it cannot be forced. The changed person may live and view life differently. But, just as we don't reach for Magritte's pipe through his painting, we cannot become "enlightened" through a description or through a ritual. Those are distractions that carry us further away from authentic experience.
Some interesting research findings that were offered in the discussion included the sense of an expansive "self" brought about by the quieting (inhibition) of the neurocognitive systems that underlie our sense of proprioception. In other words, as participants in the study meditated, their sense of having a distinct self in a distinct body separate from all other things outside of its boundary was attenuated. In the way an ice cube in a glass of water melts into the water, the sense of self melts into the environment. I suggested that these findings seem to be related to what Jill Bolte Taylor speaks of in her talk about how it feels to have a stroke: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UyyjU8fzEYU
Because these kinds of experiences are so powerful, they become transformative. The person is not changed by repetition or by a gradual progress, but instantly. Counter to the popular view that a person must work hard to achieve spiritual growth, this transformation occurs in one experience. The experience is very raw and is as real as the rest of one's life. A critical difference, it seems, is that the experience is truly ineffable. But, the mind cannot accept this fact. It must describe it! Not only for oneself, but to tell the story to others. In this urge begins the corruption, and the dangerous unfolding of a series of consequences.
As the mind tries to cope, categorize, and report on this profound experience, it starts to break it down into a sequence of distinct serially-based events. Language itself is serial, so the experience must be fragmented in the same way. Unfortunately, it's a bit like unraveling a yarn sweater. As each loop is undone, so is the sweater. The experience is then fully described, but it is reduced to a pool of yarn; it is jumbled and lacks integrity of meaning. That is the most common way to share that experience. One can use language in different ways, like the evocative art of poetry, but again, the experience is susceptible to "interpretation." Visual arts, likewise, are able to be parsed and possibly misconstrued.
Despite this, the experience has this potency that the experiencer does not want to ignore, abandon, or just forget. That experiencer gets so invigorated that she wants to share it with the world. She wants to make that experience a cornerstone of her life. It becomes much more important than the other, rather mundane, experiences. Using the interpretation she finds most appealing, she shares that expression widely and passionately. People notice a transformation--the charm in her voice--and they are attracted to that. They rally around here. A business is born, or perhaps a church......what's the difference? The charm of the leader and the description of the experience become the point of fixation (since they can't all just have the authentic experience). Means of creating that experience get laid out neatly. Dogma. Religion.
The momentum is like that depicted of the chasing boulder in Indiana Jones (Raiders). It will crush any opposition. Watch out! The boulder has no time to rest and to be self-aware.
The raw experience came and went, but the aftermath lingers, on and on. The reasons for that experience, whether it arose serendipitously from meditation or prayer, or by a stroke, it cannot be forced. The changed person may live and view life differently. But, just as we don't reach for Magritte's pipe through his painting, we cannot become "enlightened" through a description or through a ritual. Those are distractions that carry us further away from authentic experience.
