Buddhism and Taoism
This is the Wild Goose Pagoda,
essentially the birthplace of Mahayana Buddhism in China.
Like Christianity, Buddhism has
many, many varieties. Traditionally, these are grouped into three major streams
or
“vehicles” – Mahayana (the “Greater Vehicle,” by far the biggest, especially in China); Hinayana (the “Lesser Vehicle,” essentially the oldest form),
“vehicles” – Mahayana (the “Greater Vehicle,” by far the biggest, especially in China); Hinayana (the “Lesser Vehicle,” essentially the oldest form),
and Vajrayana (said to be somewhat more magical, and more
common in Tibet
itself.). The Tang Emperor in his capital in Xian commissioned the monk Sanzang
to obtain the scriptures of Mahayana Buddhism from Tibet – a perilous journey of over
10,000 miles. When Sanzang returned, the Emperor had this tower built to house
the scriptures. The fictional version of this story, Journey to the West, is
one of the four official classics of Chinese literature. Simplified and cartoon
versions – “the Monkey and the Monk” -- are very popular among children.
For a
larger image and extended caption, click here.
This
is the view of the Buddhist temple attached to the Wild Goose Pagoda, looking
back from the stairs which lead to the tower itself.
For a
larger image and extended caption, click here.
This
is part of the view from QingCheng Shan, the Dao
Mountain, a couple of hours northwest
of Chengdu.
Many regard this as the traditional ancient center of Taoism. There are many
trails and “Taoist Master” caves throughout the complex, which would require
weeks to explore. It is interesting how Journey to the West discusses a cave in
the back of the mountain far to the south where the Taoist Patriarch teaches.
For a
larger image and extended caption, click
here.
This is the top of QingCheng Shan, with
Christopher in the center of the picture.
The
friendly spirits at the top of the mountain come closer to Christopher.
This
room is one of the legendary birthplaces of Lao Tzu, in one of the mainly small
buildings in the Goat Temple Complex. This complex, in downtown Chengdu, is considered
the birthplace of the Tao Religion, but is far more recent than the Taoist
activities on QingChengShan and far more recent than the TaoTeChing. When
people kowtow and pray to a golden statue of a Ming Emperor (in a different
building in the complex), it is natural that many modern mainland Chinese look
no further. Someday I imagine a Chinese comedy movie, where an old grandmother
visits her daughter in the city, and visits a modern shopping mall; when the
grandmother suddenly drops to the floor, lights incense and kowtows to a giant
statue of Santa Claus, the daughter looks totally exasperated – yet how much
worse is the grandmother than the other Santa Claus worshippers in the mall?
This
is the great statue of the traditional folk god Ehrlang, next to the ancient
irrigation works near QingChengShan. Ehrlang was actually the government official
and engineer who led the construction of these irrigation works, still in use.
He was considered to have become an immortal as the result of his great
achievement. He is also a character in Journey to the West. Nice to see a
little respect for engineer/officials sometimes…
These are the annual traditional
ancient dragon boat races in Chengdu.
They celebrate the victory of fisherman and engineers over the dragon spirits
of the rivers, which previously caused many deaths along with the flooding of the YangTse River.
As time went on, the meaning and significance of the dragon became ever more
positive in Chinese literature (except for an imperialist streak), but the
early folk culture was more like what you see in some Japanese cartoons
influenced by Shinto.
This
picture shows an eagle over a dragon over a tiger. I bought it for a small
price from an old man at the entrance to the big Buddhist temple complex in Nara in Japan
in 1991, where I was a guest of Professor Toshio Fukuda of the Computational Intelligence Society (CIS).
In the late
1970’s, a great earthquake hit Shantung province, northeast of Beijing, which was a major center of nuclear
development at the time. The New York Times reported that many Chinese people
interpreted this as a sign of “a war between the tiger and the dragon,” which
happens at the close of a great dynasty. When the Emperor (the tiger) is too
far out of line with the City of Heaven
(whence the dragon), Heaven signals its displeasure more and more strongly
until the tiger is replaced. The Times suggested that these beliefs played a
role in the true end of the period of the great Cultural Revolution, which had
been instigated by the “Gang of Four” under Mao.
In 1992, I
had a chance to ask some leading Chinese intellectuals about this picture. The
CIS invited me to Beijing,
to receive the Neural Network Pioneer Award for inventing backpropagation. The
Chinese group invited me to a small dinner of leading engineers, including
Jiang Zemin. Jiang had to cancel at the last minute, because of a real and
serious emergency, but still I learned something. At that time, they all knew
of the story of the tiger and the dragon. They were proud to be well-educated
in all aspects of Chinese culture, including such things as Taoism and
exercise. (This was before the fear of Falun Gong caused an intense withdrawal
towards more Western ideas.) But what is the bird in this picture? Is it the
dragon’s wife? Is it some attempt at imperialistic meddling by the United States or by Russia or by American Indian
tribes? No one had any idea. But I think it is interesting that it did come
from a Buddhist Temple and has other associations. For more detailed (2.5
meg) picture and explanation, click here.
To try to
enhance their credibility, many emperors of China
would wrap themselves in the symbol of the dragon, just as rulers and would-be
rulers in Europe and the Middle East have
often pretended to speak in the name of God.
=========================================
People in most countries are taught only a very simplified
version of the complex beliefs in other nations. What they are taught is like a
simple black and white cartoon version of the real color picture – or else like
a black and white picture with shades of grey but still without colors. These
simplified versions can be very useful, to start with, because they raise some
basic logical issues which need to be faced up to. Sometimes a simplified
version of a religion may be more attractive and worthy of respect than the
entire picture, with warts and politics included. Sometimes it is the opposite.
But which simplification do we choose?
Here, I will begin by discussing the cartoon version of
Buddhism and Taoism which they taught me before College. Then I will try to say
something about the larger human reality of Buddhism and Taoism, which is
harder to explain in a brief web page. (The pictures above give some hints.)
Added on March 2008: comments
on the “six planes of existence,” from hungry ghosts to demigods, which has
provoked some worthwhile and energizing fiction.
The American Children’s
Version of Buddhism and Taoism
The “People of the Book,” from Islam to Christianity, often
view religions as a defining set of fundamental beliefs. We are generally told
that Buddhism is really just a branch of Pure Hinduism – the same beliefs, but
a slight change in the advice for how to live up to the beliefs.
In Pure Hinduism, we are told
that every human and animal possesses its own soul. Almost always, after death,
the soul eventually is born again, either in an animal or human body on this
plane of existence, or on another plane of existence. But existence on all
planes is all about ugliness and suffering, if we look closely at it. The
supreme goal of life is to purify the soul, so that it will be reincarnated on
higher and higher planes, until finally it goes out of existence altogether,
and thereby escapes from this universal pain. In some variations, the soul
continues to exist after this final stage – but in a state of total nirvana or
emptiness without any desires or goals or thoughts whatsoever. The true source
of pain is desire, for if we do not have desires or goals, then our desires or
goals can never be frustrated.
We are taught that Buddha started
life as a prince shielded from all pain. When he finally left this shelter, he
was so overwhelmed by the reality of pain all around him that he became a
devoted traditional Hindu ascetic. In this path, the aspirant forcibly denies
all human desires, and forcibly acts in a direction opposite to all such desires.
To counter the desire for food, they keep themselves as close as possible to
starvation. They do not indulge in other normal desires at all. And they
actively seek pain. But sitting under a tree one day, Buddha was offered a cup
of milk by a young girl. At that moment, he realized that the pure ascetic path
was as bad in its own way as the path of self-indulgence, in centering the mind
on bodily desires. Living to fight them is a distraction as bad as living to
serve them. Thus he saw the Middle
Way, a path of true detachment, neither serving
nor fighting what comes from the primitive mind, striving for a kind of
absent-minded state in which one can even forget that the desires exist at all.
There is a wonderful set of books for young children in the US, called the
“Care Bear” series. In one of these books, there is a Professor Cold Heart, who
hates all human feelings, because of how they bring pain to people. One day, he
meets a young boy who has had a very bad day, and offers him a new medicine
which eliminates all feelings – pain, pleasure, hate, anger, love, all of them.
The boy succumbs, and wanders for a time like zombie, until the magical Care
Bears and the people who love him help him recover. In the original books, the
Care Bears generally do not do anything destructive or mean to anyone at all,
but I forget how they managed to be kind to Doctor Coldheart himself. Perhaps
that book could be seen as a kind of Christian response to a cartoon image of
Buddhism.
With Taoism (Daoism), the story is totally different. They
did not actually teach us anything about the content of Taoism before I went to
college, except for a very few limited fragments like yin-yang symbols showing
up out of context. But people seem to talk about Taoism more often these days
in cosmopolitan US
society. From all of this talk, I can imagine what they might be teaching some
children now in the US.
In such a cartoon view, Taoism has its own Bible. It is the
Tao Te Ching. But the Tao Te Ching is very hard to understand. (By the way, the
two editions of the Tao Te Ching which I have found most informative are the
classic version by Arthur Waley and the illustrated translation by Kwok, Palmer
and Ramsay.) In practice, Taoism believes that the reality we see easily with
our eyes and the reality of spirit and energy form one world of nature, all
around us. The natural and proper way of life is simply to be true to
ourselves, to what we really are, which is a part of nature. In the popular
Western simplification (and in some trends of thought in China), this
implies that the supreme principle of action and thought is to strive to be
more in harmony with all of nature.
But now: what can we say about these two different
philosophies, simplified Buddhism and simplified Taoism, from the viewpoint of
our new worldview? Again, the simplified Buddhism is not the real, true
Buddhism – but still it is an important question.
Which is the proper ultimate principle of action for us to
follow in life – to seek nonexistence, to express our inner natural selves, or
something else? Perhaps this is the most important question of all, which any
religion or philosophy must answer.
Perhaps some Buddhists would say: “We don’t strive for
nonexistence. We do not strive at all. Of course, it does not matter.” But if
it does not matter … this creates a logical situation similar to Pascal’s
ancient “Pari Pascal.” Either it matters or it doesn’t; there is no sense
considering the possibility that it doesn’t matter, because in that case we can
equally well choose either principle. Logically, the choice should depend on
the possibility that it matters somehow.
But still.. the pure logic of words cannot tell us which of these three
principles is the right one to follow (nonexistence/ inner nature/ something
else). The choice matters to us and that is enough. In fact, the logic of this
choice is exactly what I faced up to in great detail at age 15; there is no
need to repeat that logic, since I described it in another paper posted here. It leads
exactly to the Taoist approach, for the fundamental ethical principle of our
existence. (Of course, it is not only Taoists who have said something similar!)
In fact, just as many Christians adhere to a simplified and
even destructive version of Christianity, many Buddhists actually do fall into
the gigantic trap offered by simplified Buddhism.
In modern psychoanalysis, it is well known from decades of
clinical experience that some of Freud’s basic insights are correct. For example,
human personalities do need to have “defense mechanisms” in order to maintain
some kind of coherence in their thinking and plans (one aspect of “ego”) when
they are under great stress. Harvard Magazine once published the story of a
deep longitudinal study of Harvard graduates, comparing their characteristic
defense mechanisms versus their success in life by their own standards,
with respect to their own goals. They had a catalogue of over forty standard
defense mechanisms, for which each subject was evaluated at the start of the
study. They found that two very common defense mechanisms – “denial” and
“repression” – correlate with great self-deception and pathology, in ways that
hurt the person. Two others – ‘the silver lining” and “postponement” – correlate
with good outcomes. (Actually, when I told my older son about this, I warned
him not to rely too much on postponement. Even more mature than that is wise
and rational time management; I cited the book which Clinton said turned his life around, and
allowed him to become President.) The
ancient wild saying “I don’t care,” especially popular among children having an
irrational outburst, is a classical extreme example of total denial, and total
lack of self-understanding in the words one uses. And so many people may
actually use simplified Buddhism as an excuse for indulging this simple kind of
defense mechanism, which is not a sign of profound insight or feeling, but of
very common low-level human weakness.
In other parts of Asia, I
remember visiting a high-ranked Buddhist monastery where the monks were very
very good people, and friendly to strangers. But I remember especially one
typical monk who almost seemed to be surrounded by a cloud of dryness and
parched feeling, just like old dry paper about to crumble to dust. Having
strived for true nonexistence for so long, he really was close to achieving it.
There was an air of success about him, as with people who are close to
achieving any difficult goal – but also a kind of rictus of a smile edging into
a look of creeping, growing horror as he realized this wasn’t really what he
wanted, and something was wrong somehow. But I also met some very bright-eyed
Buddhists of a very different kind.
Of course, there are also rural people who worship through
statues to Buddha, Lao Tsu, Mao Tse Tung, golden goats, politicians and the
Virgin Mary – sometimes all at once. I would not really call that Buddhism or
Taoism in a proper sense, but it is part of the phenomenon of religion which
requires discussion at some point. (Maybe later.)
Beyond The Children’s Version
As with the entire web page, it is hard to provide linear
organization to a very complex web of thought, for people with different
backgrounds. I will do my best to avoid writing something long, rambling and
sequential – but it may help to divide it up into several categories:
Buddhism and Taoism As Part of a Larger Culture
The Meaning of Some of the History
Mind, Cultivation and Qi
-- Key Ideas in Buddhism and Taoism
Here I will comment on three big ideas in Buddhism and
Taoism – Mind, Cultivation and Qi.
Mind, the Soul and
Reincarnation
There is a
common story about Buddha and reincarnation. According to my (fuzzy) memory --
a follower in India
once asked him: “Will we be born again? Or does your dark philosophy say that
we will all just die at the end of our mortal lives?” Buddha then said: “Do you
see this drop of water in my hand, which I will soon return to the stream? When
these drops fall from the rain, and reach the stream, and go down to the ocean…
it may seem as if this bit of water has totally ceased to exist. But in fact,
it still exists. The sun will shine, the water will evaporate, clouds will
form, it will rain again, and the cycle of life will continue. It does not
really die.”
The water
continues, but the drop loses its individual identity. In fact, I would guess
that Buddha must have been well-educated in the higher schools of Hinduism and
Vedanta – not just the childrens’ version.
From this quotation and from what we know about Buddha, it
is not at all clear that he even agreed with the old belief that each of us has
a personal soul which survives after death. (For a longer discussion of that
belief , click here.)
I have only
read a few bits of the Upanishads (traditionally the “highest” part of the
Vedas), but I do remember something like three geological strata in those
books: (1) a very formal level, probably the oldest part, which does not
require any belief in “spiritual reality”; (2) a middle level, which discusses
concepts of a more operational form of “Atman” or “Brahman” as a kid of greater
unified active Mind; (3) a “later degenerate” part, very practical in nature,
which provided the foundation for practices of yoga addressing individual
personal cultivation. Again, please forgive the fuzzy and oversimplified nature
of these old memories; what matters in this context is the logic, not
the historical accuracy!!! The challenge is to learn from the history, not to
be a slave of it. (Still, I sometimes kick myself for not speaking about it
with Oppenheimer when I met him at Princeton,
and he was poking around on the same shelves of the same library! And still it
is important that I insert the caveats.)
The oldest
part of the Upanishads appealed to me
most when I was a young mathematician and could easily see the beauty of it. It
fit so well with the kind of culture I was raised in, the same kind of
mathematical and universal culture that once led early people to cross big
oceans and build stonehenges to try to reach out to the stars. But by 15, I learned
to ground myself better in humanity and life and our reality. And now… I can
better appreciate the other, later parts.
When Buddha
spoke of “the ocean,” could he have been referring to the old metaphor of the
“ocean” as the greater mind of which we are all part? Do the thoughts and ideas
live on, but only as part of this greater whole ? Was he echoing the middle
part of the Upanishads, where the individual personal soul is just an illusion
or temporary event, an illusion which does indeed dissolve at the moment of
mortal death? Most likely he was. If the “ocean” is the One Soul which all of
us on earth are part of, then this is generally consistent with “the standard
model of the soul.” And perhaps, instead of escaping existence, he was really
striving for unity, to “dissolve” himself – still active, intelligent and alive
– into this larger living Mind.
This
version of Buddhism reminds me a great deal of an important scientific book,
Lucid Dreaming, by a Stanford Professor, LaBerge. When he wrote this book,
LaBerge was head of the international sleep research association, and his
theory about dreaming had been published in Science. The transcripts he
published in this book were quite startling to read. The people he had trained
in his laboratory would begin by saying something like “This time, as I floated
in the air above the laboratory, I decided to float through the wall on the
left…” To avoid getting in trouble with his colleagues, he inserted a caveat
something like: “Don’t worry. I know that these people were not really floating
out of their bodies. There is excellent reason to believe that this was all
just an artifact within the mind.” And
then – a footnote to an ancient text saying that the entire universe as we see
it is just an artifact of the mind. But which mind are we floating in? Our
personal mind? The mind of “Gaia” or “the noosphere”? The mind of everything
which exists, which some call God? Is everything but the One Mind a grand
illusion?
Many
physicists have in fact become very excited that the universe as a whole might
be understood as One Great Mind. There is a famous quote from a quantum
physicist who said “the Universe is looking less and less like a great machine
and more and more like a great mind.” But this vision has yet to be translated
into a workable, useful, operational model of physics. It is worth trying, and I have a few ideas here, but there is nothing there at
all in physics to support it as yet. On the level of psychology – Mind as we
know it has purpose; purpose and goals are the main organizing principle. But
what could a purpose be of everything which exists? There is an idea from
Cabbala (Jewish mysticism) which says that the universe was once whole, but
fractured into little pieces; in fact, any mind which is totally deprived of
external stimuli would be expected to fracture to pieces, and there
would be little point in pulling it back together just to fracture again! The
“standard model of the soul” makes no claims about collective intelligence
beyond humanity and our immediate neighbors. (If we postulate a different kind
of “mind” – different from mind as we know it – then the word ”mind” suddenly
loses its meaning! The whole idea degenerates into empty rhetoric, unless we find
a more specific way of providing meaning to it.) Furthermore, I do not see any
credible hint of evidence in the entire history of humanity (even for someone
like me who can take a hint much more than most…) which would favor the
Universal Mind theory over a complete version of the “standard model of the
soul.” The earth is a big place, and we should be very careful about our
speculations about what lies beyond the furthest galaxies that we can see.
Seeing the earth better, and extending our economies into space, is enough of a
challenge for us now anyway.
Nevertheless,
a Buddhist way of thinking can be useful in reminding us that there is
something beyond our furthest horizon… and we do not know it all.
On a more
concrete level… the “standard model” as described in my book chapter (even with an extension) does not
immediately tell us whether we should believe in a personal soul or not. (For
more discussion of that issue, click here.) But
when I think about this question, I remember a book from the Freemasons which I
found by accident many years ago, when visiting a house in old Philadelphia. I would guess that that book came
from a Scottish Rite Freemason, the same group that George Washington was an
officer in; I guess this because people have told me that Scottish Rite
Freemasonry has a heavy Neoplatonist origin, unlike the York Rite people, who,
they tell me, are analogous to the “Programmed Quakers” who retreated from
their original universal vision in order to fit better with their local
neighbors and politicians. In that book, it describes us all as being like
“cells” in a greater self or mind. In fact, well-organized organisms on earth really are a kind of amalgam of
individual cells and matrix. It is reasonable that cells or modules should be
reused somehow – but this does not necessarily imply the simple traditional
notion of reincarnation. For me, it is more plausible (both in logic and in
experience) to think of the kind of “reincarnation” that a subroutine might
experience within a large, well-designed computer mind – sometimes reused
multiple times in parallel, sometimes linked to other subroutines, and sometimes
(if it is not very useful) left on the shelf long enough to be digested by a
“garbage collector” subroutine from the matrix. The garbage collectors may have
been very busy lately.
The true
Buddhist or Taoist would not care so much about whether he has a
personal soul or not. Either way, one does one best to support the natural flow
of life. Still, one can do this more effectively if one understands what is
going on, and what the flow really is.
Cultivation
Even in the children’s version of Buddhism, the theory leads
to an immediate question: what do we need to do, in everyday life, in order to
achieve the desired ultimate state, whatever it may be? An extreme true
Buddhist would dedicate his or her entire life, and his or her energies,
towards the goal of inner cultivation. But what is the best way to achieve that
goal? How does it work?
Buddha
himself proclaimed the “Eight-Fold
Way” as his set of practical recommendations for
how to cultivate the soul. Many ordinary Buddhists will say they do not really
care about achieving nonexistence or Nirvana in their own lives; they merely
try to follow the Eight-Fold Path, as a way of being a good person. But many
different schools of Buddhism have arisen, which offer very different guidance
in practice. They explain their
diversity in part by saying that
different people have different needs, just like children at school, who
are ready for different courses – but this does not really answer the general
question in a concrete way. Some Western schools of mysticism have also said
“Life is a school.” But what is the curriculum? And does it make sense to say
that cultivation of the Soul is the true purpose of life?
In the
“standard model of the soul” (which I discuss in a previous book chapter), I agree with Teilhard de
Chardin and others that our collective inner intelligence here on earth is
basically just an immature organism. Some might say “Gaia is still just a
baby.” (Here I am referring to the “Gaia
Theory” in science, not to the
ancient pagan version! Science is full of such unfortunate confusion between
technical terminology and popular ideas; the same problem has also led to a lot
of misunderstanding of Freud.) For any immature organism, the number one task
is to grow up – to learn, to mature, and so on. As humans, we are not only
spiritual entities, in my view – but for the spiritual side of us, the real
natural imperative is exactly an imperative towards cultivation. Not just
cultivation of our own personal souls (if those exist), but of the whole. This
is what inner spiritual dialogue is really about. That doesn’t tell us what the
curriculum is – but I hope that the kind of understanding I have been striving
for may be of help in coping with that question. In the face of ignorance,
however, it makes sense to bring ourselves a balanced curriculum, developing
the most general possible abilities and understanding. Greater understanding is
a vital part of the curriculum for every one of us; it is the essential
prerequisite to moving to a more fruitful path, both in terms of performance
and stability. Naturally, authentic global dialogue within humanity (and the
ecosystem) does include the topics which humanity is really thinking about on
all levels – including our collective physical survival and religions and
science and economies and emotions and all – wherever that dialogue actually
happens.
I have
spoken a lot in these web pages about the idea of sanity or sapience, as it
applies to the individual brain. In my view, all of the same considerations
also apply – and more – to the challenge of collective spiritual cultivation
which lies before us. In the “standard model,” we as humans are by nature a
symbiosis of the two. Total, “whole person” sanity entails a kind of
“alchemical marriage,” a harmonious blending and accommodation of the two goals
and what goes with them.
Curiously
enough, in wandering around places like Harvard, I met several people who (1)
were much closer to attaining this inner harmony between their brains and their
spiritual selves than most religious people, but (2) would hate all this talk
about spirituality and such. It weakened them that they could not see
themselves as they really were – but they were much further along in many ways
than those wild fundamentalists who foam at the mouth and brandish knives while
shutting both their physical eyes and their spiritual eyes! (Sort of like Good
Samaritans?)
Buddhism
sometimes makes a distinction between Buddhas – who depart from the world – and
Bodhisattvas, who have compassion and stay here in order to help humanity as a
whole. Mahayana Buddhism tends to emphasize Bodhisattvas more than Buddhas.
Some regard this as a kind of regression – but could it be that the
Bodhisattvas are actually the more advanced in a way, more in tune with the
greater reality of which we as individuals are just one part? Or is it possible
that it is important for us to think so, for now, as we strive to reach
that level – even as something larger may ultimately open up in the far future?
The “standard model of the soul” could be reconciled with either one of these
views; it leaves certain details open. And of course, based on the ideal of
sanity – I would not want to feel more than 50% conviction in any model,
even the one which best fits my present experience and scientific
understanding.
I sometimes say “Qi is basically just backpropagation. That is all that it
really is.” To truly understand what qi is, one must first understand what
backpropagation is; click here for a brief
simplified explanation of what it is. But how can I explain the connection more
completely?
Let me start with a
few passages from the Tao Te Ching (in the beautiful translation by Kwok,
Palmer and Ramsey):
Chapter 4:
“The Tao pours out
everything into life --
It is a cornucopia
that never runs dry.
It is the deep
source of everything –
It is nothing, and
yet in everything.
It smooths round
sharpness
And untangles the
knots.
Chapter 6:
“The Tao is … the
fountain of Heaven and Earth, laid open,
Endless source,
endless river
River of no shape,
river of no water..
Chapter 8:
The sage’s way, Tao,
is the way of water.
There must be water
for life to be,
And it can flow
wherever.
And water, being
true to water
Is true
To Tao.
Chapter 10:
“Can
you nurture your souls by holding them in unity with the One?
Can
you focus your chi - your energy – and
become as supple, as yielding as a baby?
Can
you clear your mind of all its dross without throwing out the Tao with it?”
This is from the translation by Kwok, Palmer and Ramsay. In
actuality – the Tao Te Ching is hard to understand because of the diversity of
views it contains, in addition to the poetic language, the sophisticated ideas
and implicit assumptions. At times, perhaps, we are like color blind people
trying to make sense of simple stories about objects described in color. But
here I will try to explain qi or “chi”, not all of the Tao Te Ching! (By the
way – “qi” and “chi” are the same word in Chinese; people
have used different systems at different times for writing Chinese words in our
alphabet.)
In general, Buddhism
says that we should somehow seek “wu” as our ultimate goal. “Wu” is essentially
the same as “nirvana,” which is commonly called “emptiness.”
This sounds like the
American children’s version of Buddhism – but is it really?
This month (November 2007), I went back
to seriously read part of a book, The
Spirit of Chinese Philosophy by Fung Yu-Lan (translated by E.R. Hughes),
which I was unable to penetrate very far when it fell into my hands decades ago
in Princeton. Chapter eight is called “The Inner Light School (Ch’an Tsung) of
Buddhism.” This is basically the original Zen Buddhism, which he ascribes to
Tao Sheng (d. 434.). On the fourth page of this chapter, he says:
“What in the last resort is this ‘wu’
which we translate as ‘non-being’? In regard to this, there are two
interpretations. One is that it is not anything at all, a final nil, nullity as
against all that is, even null in relation to its own nullity. (Comment: Does
this sound silly? Does it make you want to laugh? If so, many Buddhists would
say they should laugh with you, about this and about the White House and about
Communism and about all of it. Just laugh. But what if you feel like crying
after that?) It is without any quality whatever, and therefore cannot be
defined as something. The sage’s mind is one with this nullity, hence the
statement that the sage’s mind is like empty space. The other interpretation is
that wu denotes the mind, the mind which brings all things into existence… ‘the
intrinsic nature’… ‘the Buddha-nature’… Tao Sheng put this as follows: ‘To turn
one’s back on delusion is to attain to the ultimate; to attain to the ultimate
is to attain the origin..”
“Sheng Chao adopted the first
interpretation, Tao Sheng.. the second. Later.. there were two tendencies..
‘not mind, not Buddha’.. (and) ‘being mind, being Buddha.’ To use the criterion
of this book, the second interpretation is inferior to the first with its
complete transcendence of shapes and features.”
And so, folks, what do we make of
all this? When I was a young mathematician taking courses at Princeton,
this book was such a tangle that I was unable to make myself read it.
(Remember, this is just one paragraph that I just cited!) But now, having a
solid foundation in the mathematics of intelligent systems and some
perspective, I can look back with appreciation and amusement at how many levels
of meaning there are in that one paragraph. It reflects so many levels of the
hall of mirrors we seem to see whenever we approach the human Mind in a deep
way.
Yet the truth itself is not so
tangled, in my view.
Sheng Chao’s glorious sounding words
about nullity which is null to nullity itself is almost as good as Godel’s
paradox, in showing how silly human thought can become when we try to rely
exclusively on symbolic reasoning or formulae without a sense of empirical
reality. For some people, the whole purpose of religion and spirituality is a
grand assertion of the ego to try to deny empirical reality – a grand
all-encompassing neurosis, which is possible in human brains only because human
brains are at a stage of evolution where a proper use of symbolic reasoning is
not yet hard-wired. (See “What is Mind?”.)
Sheng Chao’s old version is the American children’s version, which is popular
in the West among pure academic intellectuals attracted by the glorious
solipsistic nature of it, and by the way it seems to justify running away from
all reality. But Tao Sheng’s version tries to bring people more in touch with the greater reality and mind, larger than
themselves. The theory of One Universal Mind gives him an excuse for that
approach, but the practical implications for the early stages of individual
human development are really quite close to the practical implications of the more cautious theory that I would rely on. And so, Ch’an
Buddhism chose the better fork in its road, at first.
But what about those later “two
tendencies”? It sounds like the same old choice, all over again… reverting back
to the empty nonsense of Sheng Chao! How could that happen? Fung Yu-Lan himself
explains how it happened, because he himself supports the same mistake. He says
the first must be superior because of its “complete transcendence of shapes and
features.” Here, Fung Yu-Lan reminds me of the Christians who think it is
superior and more praiseworthy to believe that Jesus is the omnipotent and
omniscient God of all that exists, because omniscience and omnipotence are
greater than merely seeing a million times deeper than the average couch
potato. Fung Yu-Lan and those types of Christians both make a very simple
typical mistake in human reasoning: if X is superior to Y, they conclude that
BELIEVING in X must be superior to BELIEVING in Y. Again, humans are capable of
such mistakes only because their brains are at a kind of intermediate stage of
evolution, and because human schools of development do not always train people
how to think in a clearer, more sapient way. (For discussion of sapience, see “What is Mind?” )
Life is not only mind – but
certainly I agree with Tao Sheng that a greater development of Mind is one of
the key challenges that we all need to rise to. I applaud the inner instinct
which drove Tao Sheng to try to fulfill this valid inner need, no matter what
the theories were that he used to justify it. Yet the experience of history
shows that the attempt to achieve nirvana directly in one step has often hurt
human development more than helped it. For many of us, the best path is to
first seek sanity and sapience in the brain, in coping with mundane reality,
and discarding the kinds of illusions or neuroses that Freud talks about. The
discipline of science and mathematics is a very important tool in that development
of the mind. Because sapience does include awareness of all nonverbal
experience (not just eyes but touch and stomach and inner feelings), it can
lead in a natural way to some kind of experience-based,
empirical approach to the level of mind which is beyond the individual
brain as such. We can become more self-conscious and aware of the nature of our
soul as part of the larger noosphere, a state which Tao
Sheng and Siddartha tried to express in words as “nirvana.” And yet, logic says
that there is a further state which even they could not try to express, because
they had not yet experienced it: a state of greater self-awareness even within
the noosphere itself. The noosphere itself does not have the tendency to use
words to escape from reality, as humans brains do, because it represents a
different level of biological evolution. But there is the old expression
“ontogeny recapitulates phylogeny.” Nirvana is not an end state, but only a
kind of awareness of reality, which leads to a rolling up of the sleeves to
start doing the larger work which lies beyond it. Part of that work does
include contributing to the efforts to work together to achieve sustainability
on this earth. More precisely, it means contributing to the effort to give
humanity both a “solid place to put our feet on and an open free place for
moving our arms and our mind,” as I discuss in the final part of the discussion
of Communism and economic materialism. Part of that work
involves the further development of the noosphere itself; that further level of
development, beyond mere nirvana, cannot be accomplished by isolated
individuals who run away from the complex mental state of humanity as a
whole.
In filling in the “religions” web
page, I decided to start with Buddhism and Taoism because of the really
intense “hot buttons” which can upset people very easily, and generate
“negative energy,” if one is not extremely careful to take a positive and
sympathetic approach. China has a history of unusual tolerance between
alternative worldviews like Buddhism, Taoism and Confucianism, but the mutual
respect has never been perfect even within China, and there are major “hot
buttons” there even today.
Communism and Marxism is such a large
and complex subject that I decided (in November 2007) to give it an entire web
page of its own here. But the interactions between Communism and other streams
of thought in China
still require more discussion..
I am not
yet ready (in 2006) to do justice to the complicated subjects in the subtitle
here – but I would briefly like to assure the reader that I do not intend to
engage in any kind of propaganda for or against any of the major streams of
thought listed. All of these streams are
a “part of us,” yet they are all the product of fallible human beings who are
capable of doing better, like all of the rest of us.
With Falun
Gong, in particular, I have heard some very intense views from Chinese friends,
a couple strongly in favor and several intensely against. I do not intend to
take a position on the matter. The two in favor gave me a copy of Zhuan Falun,
one of their primary books. Those against told stories about people who became
so obsessive about their exercises that they suffered a great deal, and did not
make real progress, and stated that the founder of this religious movement was
creating a cult of personality that reminded them of those golden statues of
Ming emperors. Certainly I have seen abuses of that kind in the history of
Christianity, Islam and Buddhism.
Nevertheless, as in those other religions, there were some
interesting thoughts in the book that they gave me. Most of all, there was a
notion of a three-fold path of cultivation – to cultivate truthfulness,
benevolence, and “ren” (which is essentially untranslateable to English). It
seemed a bit odd to me at first – one more ancient laundry list of virtues. Yet
as I thought about this… I thought about the two major themes I have pursued in
my own life, the search for scientifically grounded
truth and understanding, and the effort to address the larger needs of
humanity. (I can almost hear the control engineers saying “system
identification and optimal control.” Or “cultivate the Model networks and the
Actor/Critic networks in your brain.”) Certainly these are fundamental. But
what about “ren,” which the Falun Gong folks translate as “tolerance” but is more like tolerance of adversity,
endurance, robustness, resilience? When I thought about that, I laughed,
because life has certainly been forcing me to work on that one too – and the
control engineers as well – whether I like it or not. And so, there is
something valid there, even if there are some negative things out there as
well. We all need to work on trying to overcome the negative aspects, no matter
what paths we choose. How should society as a whole deal with these conflicts?
Again, I do not feel it would be appropriate for me to add many words on that
issue at this time.
No comments:
Post a Comment
We highly admire your helpful comments on our posts.