Showing posts with label inner turmoil. Show all posts
Showing posts with label inner turmoil. Show all posts

Saturday, September 23, 2023

Internal Conversation, Discursive Thinking, Troubling Thoughts

Star Trek: The Next Generation
Season 7, Episode 6 — Phantasms

Internal conversation, discursive thinking and troubling thoughts. All three are practical synonyms for something that keeps going on when you sit down to try, with all the goodwill in the world, to meditate. Trying to turn them off unleashes the inevitable flood. Seeing the flood inspires frustration, and frustration can give way to surrender. 

Understanding what namtok (རྣམ་རྟོག) is is something you can only come to when you try to practice meditative concentration. And meditative concentration, I think needless to say, isn’t something you can approach by constructive logical steps, logical steps being another of the many things we label with the word thinking without giving the matter much thought. Well, without giving enough thought to what thinking is or can be. And logical thinking, as good as it surely is for us a lot of the time, is just too often too much like rationalizing what is anything but rational to begin with. We seem to have an endless supply of excuses for ourselves.

Allowing namtok to fuel your anguish, any efforts to force your thoughts to slow down or stop will be kind of like thrusting your hand in the water in an attempt to make the fish stop swimming. A better approach might be to sit still and let the fish flow by at their own speed. Instead of being troubled by them, it may be possible to settle into a mood of mutual relaxation. Then the superior kind of tokpa* might have a chance. Let's translate tokpa as deeper or fuller understanding, in a word, realization. We may suppose it’s why you wanted to meditate to begin with.

(*རྟོགས་པ་ rather than the cognitive-conceptual generalities called རྟོག་པ་. That silent ‘s’ [ས] makes a world of difference.)

As it is for most people nervously approaching medical or dental treatments as they sit in the waiting room, this kind of practice can be quite effective. Imagine the thoughts that seem to get in your way are fish in the aquarium.* Those fish tend to settle down after you stop tapping the glass and instead settle down in your seat. And the more you gaze at their movements the less disturbed you are by them, you might even be able to look past them. You don’t push them, they don’t push you to do all those things you’d regret doing. There’s nothing to get hung about, but you’re not hanging up on your heart, either. It’s rude to hang up in the middle of a conversation.
(*Waiting rooms often have fish tanks, and for a reason.)

° ° °




As I started out learning Tibetan in the early ’70’s, I used to somewhat jokingly translate namtog (རྣམ་རྟོག or རྣམ་པར་རྟོག་པ་) as psychic whirligigs.* Not sure that translation has quite the right spin even if I thought it had the right ring. Trains of thought tend to circle back along the same old tracks, so repetitive, even up to the point of becoming obsessive-compulsive (all the more so the more we are blind to it). Ruts are good for what? Still think my amusing translation was in the right spirit: Lots of spinning motion, no significant progress. We’ll talk about bagged cats (བག་ཆགས་) another time.

(*It’s a challenge to come up with a translation for namtok that covers every instance of its usage. It can range from superstition to vain imagining to doubt and hesitation, not to mention anxiety... As normal as it is for us to engage in it moment after moment for as long as we shall live, this mental activity is regarded by Tibetan Buddhists as one that engages in its objects with varying doses of attachment, attachment premised on conventional subject-object dualism... It gets in the way of truly seeing until it doesn’t.)

 


At the time the initial sense of abiding occurs,

interfering thoughts come up one after the other

as if they were rolling down a steep mountainside.

The thought occurs that perhaps this is no meditative experience at all,

but this sensing of the amount of interfering thoughts that occur

means that the perceptions have somewhat settled down.

Before, when there was no settling down at all,

the interfering thoughts erupted as they pleased

and even the fact that they run on was not recognized.

Then, like a slowly descending stream,

the perceptions slow down and the troubled thoughts become few.

Finally, like the depths of the ocean,

the perception stabilizes and remains immobile.

Then the meditative experiences occur.

One experiences a bliss, untroubled by thoughts and clear

like the center of unbroken space.

Like a butterlamp that does not flicker in the wind,

one’s own clarity, one’s own awareness, is undistracted.

Like a beautiful flower in a rainfall

it stands out with a shining clear presence against the ground.

Like the sun shining in a cloudless sky,

nothing comes in the way of its smooth transparency.

It is, like a bronze bowl full of water,

transparent within and without.

There will never be a word for such an experience.

It dawns without reason like dreams do.

 


གནས་པ་དང་པོ་བྱུང་དུས་སུ།།

རི་གཟར་ལོགས་ལ་རྦབ་འདྲིལ་བཞིན།།

རྣམ་རྟོག་ཟམ་མ་ཆད་པར་ལྡང་།།

བསྒོམ་ཉམས་མེད་དམ་སྙམ་པ་འོང་།།

རྣམ་རྟོག་བྱུང་ཚད་ཚོར་བ་དེ།།

ཤེས་པ་ཅུང་ཟད་གནས་པ་ཡིན།།

གནས་པ་མེད་པའི་གོང་རོལ་དུ།།

རྣམ་རྟོག་རང་དགར་ཤོར་བ་ཡིས།།

རྟོག་པ་འགྱུས་ཀྱང་ངོ་མ་ཤེས།།

དེ་ནས་དལ་འབབ་ཆུ་བོ་བཞིན།།

ཤེས་པ་དལ་ཞིང་རྣམ་རྟོག་ཉུང་།།

ཐ་མས་རྒྱ་མཚོའི་གཏིང་བཞིན་དུ།།

ཤེས་པ་མི་གཡོ་བརྟན་པར་གནས།།

དེ་ནས་ཉམས་སུ་མྱོང་བ་འཆར།།

བར་སྣང་དག་པའི་དཀྱིལ་ལྟ་བུར།།

གསལ་ལ་མི་རྟོག་བདེ་བར་མྱོང་།།

མར་མེ་རླུང་གིས་མི་སྐྱོད་བཞིན།།

རང་རིག་རང་གསལ་ཡེངས་པ་མེད།།

མེ་ཏོག་མཛེས་ལ་ཆར་བབ་བཞིན།།

ས་ལ་ཧྲིག་གེ་ཡལ་ལེ་བ།།

སྤྲིན་མེད་མཁའ་ལ་ཉི་ཤར་བཞིན།།

སིང་ངེ་ཆ་ལེ་དངོས་པོ་མེད།།

འཁར་ཕོར་ཆུ་ཡིས་བཀང་བ་བཞིན།།

ཕྱི་ནང་མེད་པར་སེང་ངེ་བ།།

དེ་འདྲའི་མིང་ལ་ཐུག་པ་མེད།།

གཞི་མེད་རྨི་ལམ་ལྟ་བུར་འཆར།།


 
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