So in that sense I think the issue of suffering is important: I think denials of it lie at the root of many problems.

I do wonder, though, if this gets at what you are talking about. I sense you may be referring to something more.

Good points. And yes, I am groping for something more, here.

In a nutshell, it’s this: I have come to the view that suffering, if you respond to it correctly, will open you to a sense of deep and profound connection with the world.

Responded to incorrectly, suffering will cause you to close and pull inside.

Responded to correctly, you have no choice but to open to it, feel the emotions at a deep level, and allow your conceptions of the world — your ideas of separateness, isolation, ego, and the many neuroses they carry with them, such as depression and anxiety — to fall away.

I’m describing it in conceptual terms, but it is an experiential observation. It’s not something I’ve arrived at by thinking, but by doing it over and over and observing the results.

When I feel fear or pain, and I surrender to it completely, and I feel the emotions fully, I fall out of my self and am left with a sense of openness and connection to the world that feels transcendental.

Is it possible to feel that openness and connection without suffering first? Probably. And I envy anyone who has that opportunity, however rare. (Or maybe it’s what we all feel as infants? I’m not sure.)

But mostly I look around and I see people who have suffered (and responded well to it) displaying this openness. And I see people who have suffered (and not responded well to it) displaying closure and stunted spiritual growth.

Nobody experiences life without suffering, so the question is: do you allow it fully into your experience, allow it to transform you, to teach you, to open you? Or do you close and try to withdraw from it?

And to me that’s what it means to acknowledge the significance of suffering — to open to it and allow it to transform you. Respond to it like a teacher, or a form of corrective feedback, or a therapy. If you don’t do this, then you miss the greatest spiritual lesson life has to offer.

So I guess what I’m saying is the complement to what you’re saying. You said that denials of suffering lie at the root of many problems. And I’m saying that fully embracing your suffering, when it inevitably happens, gives you the most profound opportunities for aliveness and growth.

I need to say more about what is means to embrace suffering. I don’t mean wallowing in self-destructive thinking, or moping around depressed, or developing a new identity for yourself as “someone who suffers.”

What I mean is a very specific way of being present with the emotions (learning to locate and be present with them in your body but not getting caught up in thinking about them) and then learning to feel them in a very pure and intense way, so the emotion can move through you freely rather than getting trapped inside.

This ties in with another post I hope to be able to write soon, about how best to respond to pain and fear. Coming soon….

The purpose of Mudita Forum is to provide a stimulating, thoughtful environment for discussing Eastern consciousness-raising practices — such as meditation, mindfulness, and the cultivation of presence — while using Ayn Rand’s philosophy of Objectivism as a basic philosophical frame-of-reference.

The old group got lost when I was changing servers a couple years ago, but recently I’ve been contacted by new people wishing to join.

My hope for the new group is that it will be much like the old one: low-volume, high-quality, and stimulating on many levels.

I sent invites to many of you from the old group, but I’m sure I missed some of you. Also, Google apparently holds such invitation messages until they can review and approve them manually, so who knows when you’ll get my invitation.

Membership in the new group is by approval only, but feel free to request joining if you’re interested in the subject matter.

Feel free to browse some of my own public posts to the forum for an example of the kinds of things we discuss.

He writes:

I am aware of Eckhart Tolle’s work in audiobook form. I have heard The Power of Now, Practicing the Now, Gateways to the Now, and Stillness Speaks.

Let me preface my questions by saying that as a result of his approach / suggestions I use the opportunities when I am driving or walking (and not distracted by people) to draw my attention to my inner self, to my surroundings, to awareness of my body, as practice in keeping out thoughts.

I clearly have periods in which I am successful, but as you know, thoughts and concerns creep in intermittently.

Even though I think I achieve the state he is recommending, I am not satisfied that I am totally in the Now. It is though there were thoughts (about potential problems, difficult tasks, etc.) waiting in the wings, waiting for an opportunity to begin the thought process and break my concentration on driving or walking.

Tolle repeatedly advises: “Accept the Now.” These are his words.

Here is my first question: There are many, many times when my mind is at rest, but I feel this “tug” to begin letting my mind parade my concerns past me. I am not sure that I have really “accepted” the Now at that point. My question, again: What constitutes acceptance? — as opposed to merely experiencing the now?

Second question: I believe I heard Tolle say “go deeper into your self” or words to that effect. How can I go deeper when I believe I am into myself as much as I will ever be?

Perhaps the answers to the above are simply keeping doing what you are told to do and the answers will come of themselves.

Anyone have suggestions?

Luke writes: “[Eckhart Tolle's] thesis that ‘mind identification’ serves as the source for all strife in the world stands squarely at odds with reason as man’s only means of knowing and his method of survival.”

Actually, this is not true. To explain why, we have to look at what mind identification consists of, and what the alternatives would be in everyday life.

First, here’s a working definition: ‘Mind identification’ is an unconscious process by which you imbue some transitory aspect of your experience — a thought, sensation, emotion, etc. — with your sense of self.

To identify means to ‘make same’ — and when you are in a mind-identified state of consciousness, you unconsciously treat many aspects of your experience as though they constitute your self.

When I say it is an ‘unconscious’ process, I mean something that you do automatically, perhaps out of habit, perhaps because you’ve done it enough times that your body and mind now do it for you without requiring you to actually think about what you are doing.

Here are some examples:

1. You meet someone for the first time, and the thought flashes through your mind “He doesn’t like me” — and, before looking at the thought as just a thought, you begin acting as though it were an unquestionable truth.

2. You’re supposed to work on your master’s thesis today, but you wake up yet again with a vague feeling like “I just don’t feel like working on it today” — and, before looking at the feeling as just a feeling, you proceed to act as though it’s just who you are, and, sure enough, you find that you just don’t have the motivation to work today.

3. You feel a headache come on. It’s been happening a lot lately. Automatically, before looking at the sensation as just a sensation, you begin to tense up against the sensation. This extra tension actually makes the pain worse, which causes you to tense up more, which ultimately results in a terrible headache.

In the first example, you identify with the thought (unconsciously associate your self with it), and proceed to act as though it were true. In the second example, you identify with the emotion (unconsciously associate your self with it), and proceed to experience yourself through the filter of that emotion. In the third example, you identify with the sensation (unconsciously associate your self with it), and your body takes over, causing you to tense up, seemingly without conscious control.

In general terms, this process is similar to the ways in which we project our sense of self onto a movie. When the characters in the movie have a scary encounter, we feel scared. When they achieve an important goal, we feel exaltation.

In a movie theater, of course, you can look around you, see the seats, remember that it’s a theater, and shake off the emotion. You can dis-identify from the movie.

In the same way, it is possible to break the unconscious identification with your own thoughts and feelings and emotions. You can have a thought and observe “That’s just a thought, it may or may not be true,” or an emotion and observe “That’s just an emotion, it doesn’t mean that’s who I am,” or a sensation and say “That’s a strong unpleasant sensation — but I don’t have to start reacting before my conscious mind arrives on the scene.”

Note that this dis-identification doesn’t mean you have to dissociate from the experience. Dissociation means shutting the experience out of your awareness; it’s the equivalent of getting up and leaving the movie theater.

In dissociation, you move away from your experience. In dis-identification, you move toward the experience. But you can only move toward an experience this way if you have some “you” — some capacity of an observing awareness — that is essentially separate from the particular experience in question.

In this way, you can be much more consciously aware of something — whether a thought or emotion or sensation — if you are not unconsciously identified with it.

For example, I can be much more rational in responding to a transitory thought if I don’t automatically assume it’s true. I can deal much more constructively with an emotion if I don’t act like it’s the sum total of who I am in this moment. And I have much more control over how I react to pain if I become aware of it as a sensation per se, rather than as a de facto home for my sense of self.

As these examples show, it is easier to behave rationally — to behave as though your “mind is your means of survival” — if you don’t allow unconscious identifications to run your personal life. And that’s what breaking mind identification consists of: breaking unconscious identification with individual aspects of your experience.

You may be thinking, “Why does Tolle call this ‘mind identification’ when it’s really unconscious identification? The unconscious has more to do with the body than with the mind.”

The short answer is that Tolle (like many people with experience in meditative disciplines) makes a distinction between intensely wakeful awareness (which he calls “presence”) and the automatic thoughts and emotions that are spun off automatically by the mind (which he calls “mind stuff”).

Tolle encourages us to strengthen our capacity to silently observe our experience, with a high degree of consciousness, in every moment. On a temporary basis, this might mean that you stop “thinking” for a short while, so you can devote more attention to simply observing what’s going on. You can come back to thinking later, when your thoughts will be much more clear and incisive, because they’re not clouded by mind identification.

Many people find that it is easier to cultivate this kind of conscious presence if you also adopt a meditation practice, in which you deliberately strengthen your ability to observe your experience closely without getting lost in thought.

In my own experience — and in the experience of several of my closest friends — this has contributed far more to my ability to be rational, to live consciously, and to earn a “face without pain or fear or guilt.” I invite you to try it out yourself, without prejudice, and see what you find.

Time permitting, I am happy to answer questions from anyone with genuine interest in the topic.

UPDATE: WordPress just reminded me, though the “possibly related posts” section below, that I have an earlier post (three years ago!) on this same subject, simply titled Mind Identification.

The original questioner asks:

How do you deal with Chronic Severe Pain? It takes energy to have patience, and long term agonizing pain disrupts the spirit, makes meditation impossible, sends shock waves through the whole body constantly, relaxation cannot happen. Enlighten me.

For help in this area, I highly recommend the book Break Through Pain by Shinzen Young. It is the best book I’ve read on the subject.

I can relate to all these frustrations. My own pain, however, has not been severe. I have had chronic low-grade facial pain (3 on a 10 scale, normally) since I was a child.

Still, I have a couple suggestions that might be relevant.

Regarding what the Buddha said, what comes to mind is a teaching that goes something like this: “Ordinary people have an arrow in the mind and an arrow in the body. The enlightened person has only the arrow in the body.”

So, the idea is that, through mindfulness practice, you can remove the sources of pain that originate in the mind.

A logical next question is: Which of our pains originate in the mind and which originate in the body?

My own experience suggests that more of our pain originates in the mind than we realize. In its purest essence, most physical pain is like a grain of sand in an oyster, a small thing unto itself.

But through our reaction to the pain, its becomes bigger, more imposing, more painful. We react to the pain, often at an unconscious level, and our painful reaction adds to the pain rather than reducing it.

Through careful meditation, we can learn to tease apart these two things, our pain and our reaction to the pain. Once we clearly see the reaction, we can begin to reduce it, by relaxing our mind and body, and thus enjoy the benefits of reduced pain.

I would think that the more challenging the pain, the more challenging this task. Since I don’t know what severe long-term pain feels like, I’ll leave that discussion to someone else.

First, though, I’ll point out some useful leads for anyone with an interest in the topic. Several people have written capably on this topic. The two with which I am most familiar are Jon Kabat-Zinn and Eckhart Tolle.

Jon Kabat-Zinn has created pain management programs for people with a wide range of incurable health problems. He describes his program in the book Full Catastrophe Living, which many people have found helpful.

Courses based on his teachings are offered around the country. They’re geared toward people who have little or no experience with meditation, but who typically have exhausted their options from western medicine, and are willing to try anything that might improve their quality of life.

Kabat-Zinn’s courses have helped many people, and even form the basis for much of the research on the healthful benefits of mindfulness meditation. (For information about this research, see Ruth Baer’s excellent meta-analysis of all the studies published up through 2003.)

In my own path, I’ve found Eckhart Tolle’s teachings very helpful. Tolle has an idea that you can transform yourself through pain, by going deeply into the pain and allowing it to “burn up” unhealthy states of mind that cause you to suffer more than you need to suffer.

A good place to begin exploring Eckhart Tolle’s teachings is his book The Power of Now. I also recommend his subsequent books Stillness Speaks and A New Earth: Awakening to Your Life’s Purpose. I encourage people to buy his audio books first, as the sound of his voice can be very instructive itself.

Finally, Shinzen Young (who I mentioned at the beginning) has written very capably on the topic of acute chronic pain. Last year I looked through his book Break Through Pain: A Step-by-Step Mindfulness Meditation Program for Transforming Chronic and Acute Pain, and it was absolutely terrific.

Shinzen Young is one of the rare people who has first-hand experience with using meditation to dissolve even acute chronic pain. His story is powerful and inspiring, and his insights into the healing process are without peer, in my experience. (I actually meant to order a copy of his book last year for myself. Just ordered it now.)

I hope this bread crumb trail is useful for others who have run into chronic pain and are seeking ways to help themselves.

The article explores some interesting dynamics at the intersection of sex, health, and pharmacology.

Here’s one apropos bit:

‘I see a lot of couples in my practice who don’t know how to relax,’ says Leonore Tiefer, a professor of psychiatry at New York University School of Medicine. ‘That’s fine – it’s a big asset to them in their corporate lifestyle, where they can work 80 hours a week. They’re trained to multi-task. Well, it doesn’t seem that that is really doable when it comes to sex. And they’re angry about that: they need it to be doable because they only have their five minutes.’

See the full article for more. (Hat tip: Drudge.)

Regarding the headline for this post… Eckhart Tolle has a funny moment in one of his lectures where he discusses resistance to being present for life:

“I don’t want to be in the now,” you say to yourself. “I want to get the future, and then I will be in the now. …Maybe my American Express platinum card will take me into the now.”

It’s a common problem. Maybe PT-141 will be the answer!

My meditation practice is aided greatly by the fact that, when I don’t meditate, I feel lousy inside. That, and having discovered the joys of listening to Eckhart Tolle (or simply enjoying, and matching, the presence of his voice) in the car.

Some days, due to my schedule, I find it very difficult to meditate (I normally meditate for 20 minutes twice per day).

Should I just not worry about it and try to do the two meditations the next day, or should I try to sit down and meditate for 5 minutes, or however long I have time for?

Your thoughts would be greatly appreciated.

I have a few suggestions.

First, your idea — about not worrying and resuming your regular meditation schedule the next day — sounds to me like a good one. (Introducing worry seldom contributes to successful meditation practice, in my experience. Meditation should be a source of equanimity, not worry.)

In general, the purpose of meditation is to foster healthy qualities of mind that can be carried with you throughout your life. When you first begin meditating, there’s often a real dichotomy between what you experience on the cushion and what you experience during the rest of the day. But as you practice, you want to start bringing those calm states of mind to your daily activities.

This relates to your question, because the things that you can do to bring mindfulness to your day-to-day activities are also the things you can do when you have to skip a sitting. These include mindful walking, sitting, driving, eating, etc.

Each of these acitivities is an art unto itself, to some extent. But the general idea is — whatever you’re doing, do it with your full attention. Don’t rush (or if you do, then know that you’re rushing while you’re rushing), and don’t allow yourself to become lost in thought, thinking about other things.

In my own practice, I have come to particularly enjoy mindful driving, because this is the time when I listen to Eckhart Tolle’s audio recordings. This is often the most productive part of my day, in terms of my spiritual growth. I recommend it highly to anyone who is trying to cultivate more mindfulness in day-to-day life.

I hope these answers are helpful. Regardless, don’t view me or anyone else as the authority on what you “should” do in your meditation practice. Experiment and see what works for you. Good luck!

I greatly enjoyed David Axel’s kickoff essay for chapter three. I’m particularly glad he brings up the subject of “mind identification,” as I find this to be one of Eckhart’s most important, and yet most challenging, ideas to understand and apply fully. David writes:

As much as I agree with Tolle’s recommendation that we “disidentify” from what he calls “mind,” I nevertheless remain unwilling to disown my mind or to treat it as anything less than a part of who I am. The same goes for my teeth, hair, skin and so on. Granted, changes in some of my aspects are more “essential” than others. If I need to get a tooth pulled, much as I may once have loved that tooth, if that’s necessary for my well-being, it’s not a problem. If I get my hair cut, my self has changed, but in a respect that’s not central to who I am.

So, in summary, I’m more inclined to regard the issue of the relationship between self and mind from the vantage point of the whole-part relationship, rather than maintaining that the mind is no part of the self.

I am fairly certain that the “identification” process Eckhart cautions against is an automatic, unconscious process of identification, rather than the conscious conceptual process of identification that David describes above. Further, the “self” that one should learn to disidentify from the contents of one’s mind is the felt sense of self, rather than the whole organism or some conceptual understanding of the self.

As such, there would be no need to exclude the mind from one’s conceptual identification of the self. Rather, we should learn to disidentify our felt sense of self from the (often automatic and compulsive) thought processes that constitute so much of normal mental life. How do we do this? By taking the unconscious process of identification and making it conscious.

Here is an example:

You have an argument with your boss in the morning. It’s only a minor disagreement, but later in the day you find yourself replaying the argument in your mind. As you continue to replay the conversation in your mind, you become increasingly unsettled and, ultimately, angry.

In this example, you become angry because you identify with the imaginary you (mental self) in your mentally recreated argument. But it is not your teeth, hair, and skin that you identify with the mental self; rather, it is the felt sense of self. This is key: When you’re in the mind-identified state of awareness, it is your felt sense of self — and not your bodily or even conceptual self — that “identifies,” so to speak, with the mental activity.

Note also that this identification process is not conscious. Rather, it happened automatically, probably by habit; you’ve had many such mental conversations in the past, and you normally relate to those conversations as though they were real conversations, instead of observing that they are mental creations that can be safely dropped.

I am convinced that this entire process — of how we form unconscious identifications, and how they can be broken — is of truly inestimable significance. No one could count how much human suffering has been created by imagining some scenario (e.g., she doesn’t like me, he is out to get me, I’ll be annihilated if I don’t stick up for myself) and

My thanks to Mark for his spirited kick-off essay introducing Chapter 1 in our discussion of The Power of Now.

In some ways, this chapter is a tour-de-force of challenging ideas. Here is my personalized summary of some of the key points from the chapter:

* Enlightenment is not a superhuman accomplishment, but rather a natural state of “felt connectedness with Being.”

* The experience of Being provides the basis of the spiritual life; however, Being is not something supernatural, but rather the supremely natural: existence itself, prior to being differentiated, by the mind, into existents.

* Being can be felt directly, as the experience of your own inner body. As a part of what exists, we are each part of Being, and thus the experience of Being is available to us at all times, if we only pay attention to it.

* However, we have a neurotic tendency instead to identify with our minds. This causes a constant preoccupation with past and future, as well as much unhappiness. As the mind strives to protect its fabricated sense-of-self — the ego — we are subjected to a low level of chronic anxiety and fear. Hence, the preoccupation with the dream-like past and future, rather than with the here-and-now.

* Descartes’s statement that “I think, therefore I am,” is thus an expression of the most basic error: to equate thinking with being, and identity with thinking.

* This tendency to identify with the mind is also the primary obstacle to experiencing Being, and thus enlightenment. Only by letting go of the ‘egoic mind’ can we find peace and connectedness with Being, with what is available to be experienced in this moment, with what actually is.

* The road to enlightenment lies in deliberately cultivating the capacity for present-moment awareness, and the direct experience of what is, in this moment, true and real.

* When we need to use our mind, our capacity for thought, it will still be there. But our mind will be clearer, more focused, more penetrating. We won’t be as clouded by resistance, tension, and emotion.

Above, I mention that these ideas are challenging. They can be particularly so for admirers of Ayn Rand’s philosophy, for several reasons:

…It challenges us to open to a new kind of spirituality, which can feel alien to self-identified atheists.

…It challenges us to recognize the destructive role of the ego, challenging the value of egoism per se. (Or does it?)

…It further challenges us to dis-identify with the mind — with our capacity for abstract thought — which seems like a yet more fundamental challenge to the very heart of Ayn Rand’s philosophy: the unalloyed reliance on reason.

Can these differences ever be reconciled? If so, how?

I certainly believe they can be reconciled, and to great benefit — but only after very careful consideration. I look forward to reading others’ thoughts.