MYSTICISM AND TIME

I am somewhat preoccupied with the idea of time and how we perceive it in our lives. I am fascinated by how time sometimes seems to slip by unnoticed and at other times becomes the focus of our most immediate thoughts. When we are young, summers unfold endlessly into the future, but when we are older, summers are of such short duration that we wonder where time has flown. We are enveloped by our perceptions of time. Our lives are lived in time. We experience our livelihoods and our retirements in a sequence of time. We measure our productivity and our leisure in terms of time. We dwell in memories and anticipations of future times alike—all wound and bound up in perceptions of time. We have individual and family histories. We study history in school with the idea that we might find some wisdom in the untidiness of how other people lived their lives and how time treated their behavior and activities. We identify ourselves in a relationship with time, a relationship that changes as we age.

Our perceptions of time continue to influence how we observe our lives unfolding. In a previous blog post, I worked with the idea of linearity and how we see the world and construct our own cosmologies according to our concepts of linear time. We have come to feel that cause and effect in most things should connect point A with point B in a straight line. This is the scientific method incorporated into our perception of all things. Yet, it has been shown that creativity and the flow of time are often punctuated by what are termed paradigm shifts, jumps in insight that lie outside what we assume are normal ways of thinking. But linear thought has not always been the norm. Fragmented time sequences have been part of older cosmologies. If artistic trends can reflect social norms, then art history has had periods in which reality was broken into thousands of mosaic pieces, each reflecting some smaller aspect of a total picture. Stained glass windows were constructed of hundreds of brilliant sources of light, each transmitting a different color and intensity. Early textual writings were composed by multiple anonymous authors, each contributing to the whole. The whole was the point and not who had written which part.

So, my fascination with time and its expression in all aspects of our lives has taken me in different directions, not the least of which is to contrast notions of time and its influences with what it might be like to live with a sense of timelessness. What would it be like to adopt a world view that allows for a mental space in which there is no time? What would that feel like and what would it mean? In these times of so much chaos and fast living, such a feeling might offer us some peace and calm we can't find in the commotion all around us. In an old book, Mysticism: Christian and Buddhist (1957), D. T. Suzuki (pictured nearby), a Buddhist scholar, examines the idea of mysticism in the works of Meister Eckhart (also pictured here) and compares and contrasts his ideas with his own understanding of it. It is an examination of the idea of “emptiness” that is typical of Buddhism and of “infinity,” which is the Christian term for the same thing, he says. In both cases, the idea is that there is a place, a mental concept at least, where time does not exist. It is immovable and fixed but serves as the ideal space in which to dwell. Accessing this space is a matter of chance and circumstance and is described as insight or enlightenment, depending on one's orientation.

We are living in times that have invited exploration of what is termed “mindfulness.” This seems to be a response to the pressures of our time-focused lives. I am not certain that its full meaning and implications are realized by those who are looking for a quick fix to their confusions and fears. It is a beginning to some sort of relief but it has also become a somewhat superficial approach to a matter that begs for greater depth and commitment. Mindfulness is easy or difficult, depending on one's view. It represents a short-term pause in activity, but it is also a long-term commitment to changing one's perception of time. Mindfulness can be a suspension of time. Isn't that, after all, what is hoped for as a refuge from the pressures of time management and demand? There is in the minute point of time suspended a perception of infinity. It isn't necessary to posit a space outside daily reality that represents this unmoving and stable mental place. If one thinks of infinity as a place above earthly activity, somewhere in a “heaven,” then it becomes an ideal and unavailable to most of us as we go about our daily toil. However, if mindfulness is another face of infinity, then one only has to pause and connect with it in the course of a life full of distractions and interruptions. It is a place where time can stand still, if only for a brief sequence. Is this useful?

I think it is useful to think of mindfulness in this way. It avoids having to subscribe to a place that is so very remote for most of us to imagine. We are less attached these days to the religions and spiritual traditions that have in their dogmas ideas of heaven and hell or their equivalents. Suzuki writes about Meister Eckhart's notion of the Godhead, a static and immovable source from which emanates the spiritual energy he calls God. Suzuki equates the essence of the Godhead with the Buddhist idea of egolessness. He says that our time consciousness will never be abolished because that is the way we as humans perceive our lives in this world. However, he says that it is useful to have a concept of empty space with potential to realize a freedom we don't receive in the activities of our surface and relative lives. And it is useful to have some relief from our own egos, if only for brief periods. We benefit from this interruption personally in being reminded of our humanity and, in the ways mindfulness can be taught and shared with others, we cultivate a deeper sense of community. This is no small thing in times when we are faced with the consequences of individual power and the sense of entitlement that we derive from it. The more we are separated from each other, the greater the chances that our biases and prejudices will lead to tribalism and despotism. We will be divided from our best selves and from all those on whom we depend for so many aspects of our lives. Infinity is for everyone.

Yes, that small point of eternity in the moment can yield up to us benefits that are outside of time and all its tyrannies and joys alike. We can experience a deep freedom that gives us courage and strength to continue along the timely path until the next mindful moment. We are reminded that we are not alone in this effort of historical motion but we see ourselves differently in the process. We see that we are capable not only of continuation in our efforts along our paths, but also capable of participating in minute paradigm shifts and punctuations that lead to greater creativity and deeper relationships. We are not victims of time so much as actors in its long sequences, participants in the process of its flow. If we were to imagine a new metaphor for time in our lives, then the idea of a stream would be a good one. A stream is ever-changing and continuous with energies that vary. There are straight channels of flow and there are eddies and pools. There are rapids and there are indolently slow movements. No part of a stream remains static and unchanging, yet its substance is defined and characteristic of it. We are in the flow of time but our human agency and our talents at conceptualization open us to the possibilities of imagining the stream as a still point, a point of mindfulness in which there is the freedom of its motion and direction. We are given the capacity “to see a world in a grain of sand. And a heaven in a wild flower. Hold infinity in the palm of your hand. And eternity in an hour.” These words of William Blake echo what both Christianity and Buddhism share in their concepts of mystical freedom brought down to how we might conduct our lives in our desire for shared freedom from the tyrannies of time.

We will not escape history and we won't escape time. We will continue to move in a stream from birth to death and we will continue to age, get sick, and eventually die. But I suggest that within that process of streaming time there are moments of infinity and emptiness that bring to us refuge in dark and troubling and distracted times. This is no escape maneuver but a conscious effort of mindfulness that can lead to the hard work of deliberate self-care and the sharing of self with other. What do we have to lose in the effort? What do we have to gain? Are we not interested in a more fully whole life in which all people can participate? Are we not able to share infinity? And isn't infinity easily accessible to all of us?

 

LINEARITY

I am really thinking about non-linearity when I begin with linearity. We live in times in which we assume linearity and take it for granted, to our own distress quite often. Humans have so constructed their world view that to think in any way other than linearity is not to think at all. I believe our present way of thinking has to do with the preeminent status science in general has in our lives. By science I also mean to include the technology that results from scientific endeavors. The technology includes all the equipment and devices upon which we have come to depend in our lives. It seems only natural that we would take a superficial view of all that surrounds us and impinges on our daily living. What is embedded in our culture (civilization?) is the assumption that for every cause there is an associated direct effect, that point A leads directly to point B. I think this is what science has taught us to believe. And so I believe that way of thinking has permeated our mental processing about everything. There are implications for formal education and for the educational emphasis right now on the big four areas of concentration: science, technology, engineering, and mathematics (STEM); all solidly linear subjects based on linear thinking.

Creativity seems to subvert the idea of linearity. To the extent that we do not entertain non-linear thinking is the extent to which we are not creative at different levels of our lives (I am thinking here of creators such as Leonardo da Vinci, pictured close by). Being linear in thinking brings us much in the way of what we term “progress.” But it is also recognized that leaps of thought (paradigm shifts, by way of Thomas Kuhn's work) and exploration of the edges of accepted dogmas also open up creative realms. Some call this shifting of mental processing “combinatorial” thinking. It is a way of combining ideas from multiple disciplines to sift out new combinations and coalescences of ideas that would not have occurred with linear thinking. It is what is referred to as “thinking outside the box.” The “box” is a place with defined walls and dimensions and it also represents a place of tight confinement. People are encouraged to think outside these restrictions when there is a need for some breakthrough in planning or innovation or as an avenue to the deeper levels of creativity.

The examples of linear thinking are as vast as the disciplines or concerns that occupy humans. We are designed by social structures and behavior patterns to think in ways that link one thing directly with another. This happens in science of all stripes, in medicine and the understanding of physiological processes (I refer here to my own experience with the development of diabetes and how difficult it is to escape the idea that patterns of food consumption affect directly the processing of sugars in the body), in education and adopting the structures of learning and testing that have become constrictive and unproductive, in industry where new technologies replace old ones but impose their own orders of linear organization, in economics where analysts pin a highly complex and variable system of global monetary policy to the daily gyrations of stock markets (resulting in a comical set of explanations that don't make any common sense), in human relationships where we equate a human action with a single cause. All of these are just examples of the many ways in which we assume linear cause and effect.

However, the truth in my own experience is quite different. It seems to me that thinking linearly (and superficially, as it turns out) brings us to the matter of the assumptions we make and the expectations we have of how things operate. I have noticed that my own expectations of how the world should work are set against the realities I encounter every day. The degrees of separation of these two mental constructs or perceptions create gaps that are filled with the tensions I experience. I am always pushing against reality in hopes of realizing a situation closer to my expectations.

The truth of it all is that my perception of the world is becoming more and more non-linear and I am noticing the areas of my life that do not conform to linear thinking. When I notice one of those areas and explore its non-linearity, I discover that it has been non-linear all along and my discovery is merely understanding its true nature. For instance, in politics I assume that all politicians operate from a set of shared values of fair play and service but the reality is that politicians operate from a base of deep self-interest. This is especially stark in the Trump era in which it has been so difficult to understand why his supporters cling to him in the face of his erratic and dangerous behavior. It is in this gap between what I think should be and what really is (even if I can't explain it) that I formulate biases, prejudices, and judgments that feed the tension that exists in the gap. Right now, this is the most obvious gap/tension situation for me. There are others but I think because the media push their stories of drama and suspense and reactivity so hard that it is almost impossible not to perceive the gap/tension that results.

The areas of my life that I perceive to be essentially non-linear are of more concern and excitement for me than the events of the day, the surface or relative life. Most of my thinking any more is very non-linear. What interests me are all the more enduring aspects of my individual existence and my communal sharing. I have many interests and they sometimes come to me in variously sized packages and intensity. I welcome them as they come and consciously look for those overlaps and unusual combinations that are out of the box (maybe out of Pandora's box, too). When I sit to meditate, my mind is in a non-linear state of openness and exploration, if there is any content at all. And some days there is little to none of it. I do have some structure to my days but I am attempting to be more sensitive to the match between my activities and my circadian rhythms, allowing for a greater sense of flow beyond the constrictions of habit and routine. This, too, is very non-linear. I believe that there are miracles of body and soul that will always be non-linear and maybe even unyielding to common understanding.

We should not abandon linear thinking, for it is the means and the map to all other dimensions of thought. On the other hand, it need not be a refuge from exploring all those other dimensions. To give up linear thinking would be to open ourselves to the sorts of thinking that now prevail in our society, thinking that represents an anarchy of the mind where ego and self-interest prevail. I am suggesting that linear thinking opens up spaces for non-linear explorations based on moral values that lead to prosocial behavior, equality, fairness, and compassion for one another. I am advocating for nurturing the inner life and for a world in which communal relationships can flourish among all the peoples.

This brings me to the actual content of my non-linear life. While the structures of daily living are loosening for me, the content of thought, the topics, are also becoming more non-linear. For instance, I have mentioned how the physiological processes of the body are non-linear in ways that confound simple explanations of cause and effect. I have also gleaned from my studies of neuroscience that there are frontiers of understanding that haven't been reached at which the mechanisms of neural channeling and recruitment lie beyond what we already know. Technology has enabled us to see how the brain lights its way with certain stimuli but the encompassing networks of recruitment and toggle switching are still profound mysteries. When I think about what we know of conception, intrauterine human development, and birth, I imagine we think we understand most of what there is to know. However, the initial “big bang” of the process can only be conjectured. What forces existed in the first place to allow sperm and egg to fertilize? What atomic configurations needed to be in place for this to happen?

In the spiritual realm, and at the other end of the life spectrum, there is the mystery of death. There are the speculations about what happens after the skin bag drops off. We avoid thinking about it, in part I believe, because we cannot connect directly what we know of life to the fact of death. We can't make it a linear connection. Death comes as it does and as it will, regardless of our attempts to describe the preexisting conditions that lead up to its universal appearance. Death is the ultimate non-linear concept and reality that doesn't yield to our linear minds—and never will because of its final hard drop off from how we think of our lives. There is a huge gap between what we imagine death to be and the unknowable fact of what it is to experience it. We avoid thinking about it to reduce the tension the gap creates for all of us. Another concept that is non-linear is that of God, or whatever one calls the transcendent force that endures beyond our surface lives. It is what might be imagined behind the cosmic “big bang” that created all of the matter now existent in the universe. “Big bang” is a convenient way to refer to an event behind which is an unimaginable force, a non-linear force that doesn't yield to a linear explanation. It is in this gap/tension that we experience existential fear and anxiety.

What is to be done? How can we cultivate an appreciation of non-linearity that opens us to the ground of peace, calm, and contentment? Is it even possible to so structure a mindset that we are able to accept the apparent randomness and entropy and uncertainty of the universe more fully? Is there any way to come to terms with death—our own death? Is that the place to begin our experimentation with uncertainty? Would a daily practice of death awareness bring us to this understanding of our non-linear lives? If we can accept more of the reality of death, would that help us reduce some of the tensions that are inherent in our surface lives? Would we have a different perspective of the actor-network philosophy of Bruno Latour? Would we see our own thoughts and ideas and actions in different ways and eventually include only those that contribute to a holistic and wholesome benefit for all creatures and things? Would we then know that the mysteries of love and compassion are fruitful non-linear forces that aren't dependent in any way of the linear structures of our daily lives?

Of course, the questions abound and with few easy answers. The questions are infused with non-linearity and the act of inquiry itself invites thinking that moves us beyond the constrictions of “normal” thought. We are liberated from our attachments to commonly held methodologies of thought and action. We are truly creative in this new freedom. We have lessened our fears and we have narrowed the gap between what the surface world anticipates and what the world actually is. It is in this narrowing that we get closer to the truth of our existence as humans on a planet that seems to be a lone traveler in the universe with life like ours. Sharing the expansions of non-linearity brings all of us closer to one another in our shared experience of cosmic loneliness. We belong to one another in our emergence from the shadows of isolation and fear that generate our aversive behaviors towards one another.

Winding down this little essay on linearity and its permutations brings me to wonder how we might act toward one another that could make the world in which we live more nourishing. How can we loosen the grip of our linear thinking that is at the root of all that we do? I am not advocating that we foster existential anarchy. I am advocating for a deeper and broader acceptance of uncertainty and the determination to move ahead as we see the shared concern for each other and the welfare of all play out. I am advocating that each person notice the gaps/tensions of the linear world s/he inhabits and decide how they might change. It is in this approach to individual balance that changes will occur. So, yes, let us engage our linear thinking to make room for thinking that is necessarily non-linear. Let us be creative. Let us be kind to ourselves and each other. What else do we have?