Dhamma vicaya: Investigating Nature

Loosely translated as ‘discrimination of states’, ‘investigation of doctrine’, or ‘searching the Truth’, the principle of Dhamma vicaya has drawn comparisons to modern scientific and philosophical thought. Dhamma vicaya is the second of the ‘seven factors of awakening’ which are said to precede the actualisation of mindfulness. The principle motivates individuals to explore Nature, with special attention devoted to oneself. We become the objects of critical inquiry, just as nature is the subject of critical inquiry for the scientist.

It is not hard to see Buddhism as a combination of both speculative and scientific philosophy. In essence, it asks the questions, ‘What is the nature of the mind? And what is the nature of matter?’ These two questions are addressed in the hard sciences through Physics and Neuroscience. It also asks which, mind or matter, are of greater importance? Do our ideas of nature determine how nature manifests itself to us, or does nature determine our ideas of it? This debate of materialism vs. idealism is deeply rooted in Buddhism as much as it is rooted in Western philosophical thought, and is arguably still a matter of dispute.

The epistemological target of Buddhism is the self. And so, it is not surprising that metaphysically, Buddhism lends itself to more of an idealistic interpretation of the external world. That is, our ideas of nature determine how nature presents itself to us. The mind or consciousness precedes the physical. There is some science which is compatible with this idea. Wave-particle duality, how subatomic particle behavior can resemble both particles and waves simultaneously is still an enigma of science. The double slit experiment (check out Jim Al-khalili’s explanation on youtube) demonstrates that it is the observer who determines whether a particle acts as a wave, or behaves as a localised physical entity. In this case, it is the presence of a conscious being which determines how the material world manifests itself to us. This works well within the confines of an idealistic interpretation of nature.

Electroencephalography: Measuring Meditation

Electroencephalography (EEG) is a method that cognitive scientists, psychologists and physiologists use to detect and measure electrical activity in the brain. Small electrodes are placed along patient’s heads which measure voltage resulting from the firing of neurons in the brain. EEG is used mainly for the diagnosis of cognitive impairments, but it also can offer us an illuminating light into the minds real-time activity. A graph measures fluctuations in electrical activity, giving us a visual representation of our very own ‘brain waves’. EEG has been used to measure changes in brain activity of participants who practice meditation, and the results pointed to something quite interesting, that meditative brain activity is quite distinguished from sleeping and conscious activity.

The electrical measurements taken from a range of study participants who had varied meditative experience showed patterns similar to expert Zen meditators. These patterns were distinguished by large amplitude alpha waves which slowly decreased in frequency. The alpha waves are created through the synchronisation in the oscillation of cells in the brain, and they are at their most abundant during conscious relaxation with closed eyes. Alpha waves diminish when either our eyes are opened or we fall asleep. It is at this purgatorial stage that meditation operates, we haven’t quite entered the pearly gates of nap time, and we haven’t quite left the hustle and bustle of full bodily awareness.

For some, increasing alpha wave activity is an attractive proposition because of its close relationship with relaxed states. Currently, meditation is being explored as a type of ‘biofeedback training’. EEG can inform subjects when alpha wave activity increases, enabling them to make conscious links between thought processes and spikes in alpha waves activity. Psychologists have hopes to employ these techniques to help suffers of phobias, hyperactivity and stutterers bring back a little bit of calmness and relaxation into their lives.

Further Reading: http://science.sciencemag.org/content/167/3926/1751

Physiological Effects of Meditation

While I have professed the psychological effects of meditation in my previous blog posts, I now want to move onto some of the physiological effects that the practice can bring. Intuitively, common sense can already tell us what kind of consequences bringing the body to a contemplative resting state will induce. Meditation is a relaxing process, so symptoms associated with relaxation like the lowering of the heart rate, changes in metabolism, respiration and blood pressure are not surprising.

It is thought that these effects are elicited by the activation of the parasympathetic nervous system. After eating food, or having sex, the parasympathetic nervous system kicks into gear and focuses the body’s attention to things like digestion and rest. When someone begins a meditative routine we basically trick our parasympathetic nervous into action, which is why we see these symptoms like the lowering of the heart rate and heightened activity in the gut. The parasympathetic nervous systems works in contrast to the sympathetic nervous system, which is responsible for our ‘fight or flight’ response at times of high stress. So meditating can subdue the effects of the sympathetic nervous system. While it is vital to our survival, the sympathetic nervous system releases hormones into our blood stream which help us cope with high-stress situations, not the type you want floating around while you are trying to chill out.

Mutual Interdependance of Being and Buddhist Environmentalism

Buddhism states that all things are dependant in their origin upon other things. Pratītya-Samutpāda a central tenant of Buddhist belief, translates as dependant originating or dependant arising. It is not too dissimilar to the idea of cause and effect; things can only arise out of a prior condition. All physical and mental states affect the proceeding physical and mental states, they are products of their origin, and dependant in nature of what manifested them.

So for Buddhism, everything is inextricably interconnected. And we can extrapolate this to biological systems; living things are dependent on other living things, forming the complex network known as the biosphere. But this interdependence does not stop here. The notion of dependant originating implies that all things are not as fundamentally ‘different’ as we perceive them to be since they arise out of and resemble what caused them to exist. At a scientifically reductive level this is also true, human beings just as all flora and fauna are made of the same stuff, and subject to the same governing physical laws. Break down any living thing and you will see that it is comprised of the same atoms which hold us together. So, does it follow that Buddhism can lead to compassion and empathy for the environment that we share this intimate connection with?

Environmentalism is not really mentioned in the first emerging Buddhist scripture. But this has to be taken in the context with which it was written. At the time, communities were sporadically located among the jungle, in stark contrast to the now pockets of jungle that defy human urbanisation. So looking for textural justification of Buddhist environmentalism would be difficult, or at least for an explicit mention of it. But from the principle of Pratītya-Samutpāda, however, we can infer that a Buddhist environmental movement would make a lot of sense. If we can’t draw arbitrary lines in the sand about what separates us from everything else on Earth, then as we work to sustain ourselves, we should work to also sustain what gave rise to us, the environment.

For Buddhism, demarcating between yourself and the environment which created you would be drawing a false dichotomy. Where do we draw the line between where ‘I’ exist and where the external world exists? If you were to say ‘I’ end where my skin ends then are you implying that this is because you need your bodily extremities to exist. But we also need ‘external’ factors from ourselves to survive as much as we need our vital organs. Oxygen, water, sustenance, we all rely on these to get by just as much as our beating hearts. So to justify the degradation of the environment in terms of self-interest is a fallacy. Acting to preserve and sustain the environment is an act of self-interest just as much as it is an act of environmentalism.

Photo Courtesy of Nick Stringer

Anatta and the Crisis of Identity

In my previous blog post I talked about anatta, a central pillar of Buddhist belief which rejects the idea of the self or ego, and how scientific interpretations of the mind vindicate this idea, or at least can work in conjunction with it. I also talked about meditation as the method by which this detachment from the self occurs. Arguing that at least to a degree, embracing this idea can lead to better mental health, reducing anxiety and perhaps depression. Our faculties for worrying about the past and future are reduced because we see ourselves less as a rigid entity moving through time and more as a perceiver of the present.

While the west is waking up to the benefits of meditation, and uptake into mindfulness classes explodes, there are a minority of cases where people who have undergone meditation classes are experiencing psychological trauma. A theme of ‘depersonalisation’, the feeling that one is observing one’s self as if they are a character in a film has popped up in rare cases where individuals are experiencing crisis of identity post-meditation. As meditation gains popularity, the scope of its influence will increase, meaning that vulnerable individuals with mental illnesses may be exposed to this quite powerful mental tool. Sure, the majority of people would benefit from a sprinkling of meditation into their daily lives, but this highlights the awareness that practitioners should have, knowledge of when to perhaps suggest specialist help for people who are trying to combat depression and other mental illnesses through meditation.

There is no cause for immediate concern. The majority of these cases tend to occur after prolonged meditation, where beginners are thrown into multiple week long retreats, so a gradual introduction into your life is not going to cause irrevocable harm. But if you are thinking about taking part in a meditation course, it would be wise to choose one where you are fully confident in the abilities of your teacher, experience really is a must.

But this phenomenon of people losing their own sense of identity is not all that surprising when we look at the feelings that meditation is actually trying to induce (anatta), and how reliant people have become on their perceptions of themselves and the perceptions that others have of them (their ego). The fostering of narcissism in today’s society, where success is nearly if not always defined by popularity lies in abject contrast to the letting go of egocentrism. Perhaps these cases of ‘depersonalisation’ are a microcosm of a larger issue. Imagine working your entire life to build a reputation for yourself, only to then start meditating and realise that the idea you have of who you are is somewhat an illusion, you are going to question what it was all worth and maybe experience something like the clichéd midlife crisis. We can see some perhaps implicit dangers of meditation for those who have grown with a notion of the self as unchanging. It is not dissimilar to the notion of ‘unplugging’ in the Matrix films. Older individuals became so reliant on the system (which was an illusion), that to thrust them out of the reality they know intimately would be psychologically catastrophic, so they reframed for emancipating people who they thought were vulnerable. Similarly, unveiling that the self does not exist to individuals heavily invested in the idea of themselves could be equally detrimental.

Further reading on the topic: http://shinzenyoung.blogspot.co.nz/2011/11/dark-night.html

Scientific and Buddhist Interpretations of the Self

For most, the experience of consciousness is analogous to the feeling of being a centralised ego within our heads, a passenger inside our bodies, thinker of thoughts in addition to our experiences. But this sense of being the captain of our own ship, steering the vehicle of ourselves on a road through life is where most of us start intuitively when we begin to ask questions about the nature of the self and what you define as you. A largely Cartesian picture of mind and body as separate emerges through this introspection. We don’t feel like we are identical to our bodies, we feel we have bodies, and that sense of having a centralised locus of thought, an ego inside the mind is all too familiar. But with our current understanding of the mind, this apparent a priori intuition that this impervious self exists is unveiled as an illusion, there is no centre for consciousness in our brain. Our reality spawns from interaction between different malleable parts and a myriad of process spread across our brains. Not only do we know that this perceived centre for experience is anatomically fictitious, but that we can escape this illusion, and that people have been doing so for thousands of years.

The Buddhist belief of anatta, the perception of there not being a self, is attained by the rejection of the idea that we remain the same person moment to moment. But when the idea is scrutinised of there being an unchanging identity of whom we define as ourselves, it is easy to see its flaws. Try and think of something you wrote five years ago, that person with all of their convictions, assumptions, perceptions, almost their entire world-view has altered in some way. So how can we say that it was written by the same person that you are now? The mind is in a constant liquid state of change, and as events occur in your life the ripples change the composition into something new, a different person.

For Buddhism, anatta is reachable through meditation, and this relies on the premise that the mind is susceptible to change. By meditating, it is known that neural pathways can drastically alter. This is only made possible by the plastic nature of our neurology and scientists think they have seen the physiology of our minds reoriented in the process of meditation. The idea that the brain changes and adapts to variations in environment, thinking, behaviour, emotions, and bodily injury, has replaced the prior position that the brain is in a physiologically fixed state. A concrete conception of the self moving through time is at odds with how we now know the brain functions.

Why might this state of mind be desirable you may ask? If we aren’t really the same person moving through time, doesn’t that take away some of the authenticity from our relationships? Living in the present and refraining from trying to stay within the rigid confines of who you define as yourself will actually create a more authentic sense of self, adapting to events as they unfold in your life, which mirrors how the brain actually grows and develops. People often remark on the consciously calm, compassionate, and collected manner of those who have practised meditation and shaped their perception based on the tenant of anatta. A sense of tranquil equanimity for those who are less reactionary to the emotiveness of life is a by product when we take things less personally and lose sight of a self which we constantly have to maintain rather than just let exist.

Photo courtesy of Nick Stringer.

Clash of the Worldviews: Part 2

You will understand then, that it was exceptionally refreshing to hear a religious leader say, “If Science proves some belief of Buddhism wrong, then Buddhism will have to change.” Buddhism is unique. It asks the devotee to examine its central ideas critically, and arrival at accepting these ideas is not attained through textual interpretation but rather experiential confirmation. And once these experiences start to work in tandem with our scientific understanding, we have pretty good reason to suggest these ideas are based in reality. A philosophy of the mind seems like a more accurate label.

I’m not saying Buddhism is right, and everyone should drop everything they are doing and start meditating. I’m saying that the polarising framework of how debates surrounding the biggest questions we ask ourselves is exhausting. Who are we? What is the external world? While the neuroscientist and the physicist can tell us the mechanistic basis for these questions, they also address a weakness in the scientific method. The more and more we break down the underlying physical processes of the universe, the less likely we seem to be able to describe the most complex phenomena like consciousness. Science starts from a reductionist position and then tries to extrapolate. While something like Buddhism starts from the subjective experience of the human condition (exactly what science is trying to reduce). Each respective epistemology should be informed by the other. A spiritualistic explanation can tell us what it is like to be human, while science can tell us how this may arise.

Photo Credit: Jon Reis Photography

Clash of the Worldviews: Part 1

So much of the debate surrounding spirituality and scientific worldviews is framed in the context of a battlefield. ‘Science vs. Religion’ is how the majority of dialogue is portrayed. We have the scientist in their lab coat, and a creationist across the table, arms folded, each worldview being explicitly mutually exclusive and at antagonistic odds with one another. For the viewer, whoever you may identify with most will be forced into the extremities of their particular stance on whatever topic they are discussing. Whether it is the science denialism of the religious representative, or the materialistic rabbit hole the scientist is forced into when asked to describe prescriptive conclusions about the world from a descriptive foundation. Both are left drowning out of their depth. What we are left with is a polarising frame from which to view any particular debate. There is no room for a discussion as to how a spiritualistic interpretation of the world could be further corroborated by the research of scientists, where, if there is any middle ground, or how such interpretations of reality could be compatible with one another.

For me, and for most young, sceptically inclined individuals, our allegiance typically lie with the scientist. But when we are presented with a Religious vs. Scientific argument, science is characteristically portrayed as spiritually empty, and nihilistic in nature. ‘Science can’t tell me how to live my life’, frustratingly still rings in my ears. No, it can’t tell you how to live your life; in fact it doesn’t try to. A misconception of the scientific method is that it prescribes how to live your life. Science is descriptive. It describes the workings of the external world. We know that the biological function of our genes is to be passed on, but that does not mean we are obliged to engage in procreation with as many possible partners for every waking moment of our lives. Yes reverend, we are primates, but don’t worry, I’m not going to throw faeces at you.

A larger part of why I think emerging generations are becoming more and more critical of the monotheistic faiths that they often start from a point of ideological embarrassment. Let me explain; you are born into a particular faith, you get to a certain age and learn that there is an astounding multiplicity of worldviews (emphasised now with our globalised lives). The healthy thing to do would be to weigh counter-arguments and refine, change, or adapt your existing worldview. But these faiths characteristically want to keep the doors of scepticism closed. They provide you with your dogmatic foundations, and you can then only accept what reinforces those ideas. We then find that our only solution to this problem is to reject any kind of spiritualism.

Can Meditation Enhance Creativity?

A reoccurring theme of my previous blog entries has been the notion that practicing meditation can actually alter the physiological make-up of the brain. If new neural pathways and modes of thought are now opening up for a person who has slid some meditation into their daily regime, then could this contribute to or increase that person’s propensity for creativity? It seems to make sense by way of inference that if someone’s brain state has changed then new avenues of thought that were once inaccessible could now take place, enhancing that individuals creative bag of tricks. It is as if we have updated and innovated the hard-drives and information processors of our bodies, resulting in a new way to interpret ourselves and the external world around us. But does this idea have any scientific pillars supporting its weighty hypothesis?

So, if we wanted to try to measure a potential increase in creativity, how could we possibly go about quantifying such a thing? Creativity’s nature is quite elusive to try to articulate. There are two intriguing methods, however, in trying to pin down a measure of creativity. These are the Alternate Uses Task method which analyses divergent thinking and the Remote Associates Task method which covers convergent thinking. An example of divergent thinking is if we tried to think of as many possible practical purposes for say, a paper clip. Convergent thinking would be like trying to solve a problem using a set of specific tools, or finding a common denominator in a set of given objects or ideas. Each types of thinking are central ingredients in the creative soup.

A particular study attempted to measure if these two facets of creativity were in any way affected if participants had engaged in meditation prior to performing these tasks. It compared two different types of meditation. Focused attention meditation, where you focus on a specific object or sensation and open monitoring meditation, where there is even distribution of attention given to sensations felt within the meditative process. Subjects who participated had varying levels of experience in meditation, ranging for first-timers to ‘gurus’. It yielded some surprising results. Those who had engaged in open monitoring meditation prior to the test scored significantly higher in the divergent thinking task, increasing their ability to conceive of multiple uses for common objects. The focused attention group were expected to perform better in the convergent thinking task but surprisingly did not. It is easy to see why the researchers thought that the open monitoring meditation would influence their divergent thinking task as each requires a multiplicity of thought tangents, they also thought that the focused attention group would score higher on the convergent thinking task, as it requires elongated focus on a particular concept, something that would feasibly be beneficial to solving a task which requires lengthy attention to solve a specific problem.

While the research on the links between meditation and creativity are illuminating, this particular field of inquiry is still in its relative infancy. And as I mentioned earlier, the complexity of what we define as creativity draws us to the limitations of trying to find tangible links between meditation and increased creative thought. There are many more approaches in describing the definitive aspects of creativity. However, the study was able to show that different methods of meditation have varying effects on cognitive processing and link open monitoring meditation where attention is evenly distributed to divergent thinking and malleable states of mind. It would be certainly wise to watch this space.

Photo Courtesy of Nick Stringer.

Diverging from Personal Narratives

It is rare, even when we have nothing to do or are performing a bland automatic task, to pause and feel the present. We almost instantly introspect, venturing back in time to make sense of some past life event, or scurry forward to some foreseeable future obstacle conceiving of possible avenues to resolution. Think about it, the last time you painted a house, drove a considerable distance, or took a sizeable stroll, your mind may have initially been on the task at hand but then it inevitably would have veered off to resurrect whatever daydream lay dormant in your mind. And this invariably gives us the perspective that we are the protagonists in the narrative of our lives. We are all the Leonardo Dicaprios of our own subjective blockbusters. In a sense, people are suckers to the psychological mechanisms which are constantly trying to storify our lives. A specific region of the brain (the midline of the cerebral cortex) has been associated with this storification, which shows increased activity when people literally just stop and think. It is known as the ‘default mode network’.

This default mode network functions as a point of self-reference, creating personal narratives past, present and future. However, meditation opens up an alternate avenue of the brain. Rather than the usual default mode lighting up, a more lateral region associated with the insular cortex boasts heightened activity. Conversely, the insular cortex functions without the linear time-based narrative the default mode network relies on. So without this temporal reference point, the insular cortex accentuates the awareness of the body’s present state, which is unsurprising since that this is pretty much analogous to what meditation practically teaches. The expansion of the rib cage as you breath in, gravity pulling you towards the earth’s centre, a gentle breeze rustling through your hair, come to the forefront of experience, lacking the self-syllabus that we usually succumb to. By constantly flexing (through meditation) the insular cortex region of the brain, it begins to have a more prominent role in our everyday experiencing of consciousness.

A lot of the anxiety that human beings experience is caused by this inclination to worry about the future, and getting stuck in the psychoanalysis of past events that have reshaped us. So, in a way, that storification of our lives, to place ourselves on this narrative trajectory, can be destructive to mental well-being. However, by implementing meditation into your life the intangibles of past and future become less pronounced, while the present becomes enhanced. For sufferers of anxiety about the past and future, mindfulness meditation could be your antidote.

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