| | 30 minutes at work.
Started out with noting, applying labels according to Michael Taft’s recommendations. Was then confused about the distinction between mental processes and ”outside”-related sensations, because methodologically they are cause some difficulties. I assume this is one of the things that the practice aims at making the meditator notice for themself (I’m guessing that these distinctions in the model are there to sort of provoke the reaction, because neither Michael nor Shinzen Young would do something like this by mistake; there must be a purpose). Therefore the session turned into something more explorative, methodologically (it is all an exploration, of course, but I refer to being more eclectic about methods).
There are sounds that I ”know” come from ”outside” and auditory sensations that are soundlike but yet I ”know” that they are mental. But do I really know that? If so, how? There are also sounds that could be from many different sources. Is tinnitus a physical or mental phenomenon? There seem to different kinds. There are many sounds that seem to be from ”inside”, but they could also be from electronic devises. How should I know while I sit there meditating? Does it matter? It’s still the same sound. Aren’t all sensations mental at least to some degree? The mental part is after all the only thing we know for certain while sitting there.
I tried to investigate phenomenologically how ”inner” and ”outer” auditory sensations/perceptions/whatever differ from each other. I noticed that when I make an effort to focus on the sounds that I perceive of as coming from outside, I have a certain physical sensations that I find hard to describe. There is movement. I know that there are muscles inside our ears (I’m one of those people who can manually open and close my ears similar to what happens when there is a pressure change), but I don’t know whether we actually use them actively for the purpose of hearing. Maybe I feel them moving? Or maybe the perceived physocal sensation is in fact a mental image of the shifting of focus? I don’t know what it is. I don’t know for sure that there is actual movement, and if it is, I don’t know what is moving. Anyway, I noticed that the same movement did not occur when shifting focus between sounds that appeared to come from outside the window in front of me and sounds that appeared to come from the corridor outside the door behind me. That sensation of movement only occurred when shifting between ”mental” and ”outside”. Yet there were sounds the origin of which I could not tell; that is something that could be interesting to explore further. Could that sensation be used to identify the source as inside or outside? On the other hand, how could I control that when the factis that I don’t know the source? And even if it were possible to find a correspondence to a certain source, that doesn’t prove a causal connection. It could very well be the case that believing that there is a difference between inside and outside is what causes the sensation, either mechanically (because it makes us activate something) or mentally.
My subjective experience is that there is a qualitative difference between sounds from outside and mental sounds, but I don’t know how to describe it and I don’t know how much of that perceived difference is a mental construct, a story that has no bearing on a sensate level. A few days ago I mentioned in this log how while listening to a video using headphones, moving away from my ipad (and from seeing Daniel speek in the video) I noticed how the sound suddenly moved into the headphones. Logically, the sound should have been there already, but that was not what I experienced. I guess something very similar happens when the image and the sound is out of synch. Suddenly it is obvious that the sound and the image come from different sources, and the formation (?) is splintered into parts in a disturbing way.
Actually, I also have experiences from auditory hallucinations that complicate this matter. It seems to be surprisingly common in some autistic communities to have hallucinations specifically related to the current signal of one’s own mobile phone (I won’t go into speculations about the reasons for that), and I have had such hallucinations for at least two different time periods. When the hallucinations are fullblown, it is impossible to distinguish the sound from ”real” sound. I could hold the phone in my hand and see with my own eyes that it was turned off and still hear the signal loud and clear, every tone of it. Phenomenologically, there was no difference. It didn’t start out like that, though. You know how while in the shower or in some other noice you can sometimes wonder whether that was the phone ringing (or whatever sound you have reasons to watch out for, maybe a baby crying or the cat scratching on the door because they want to come inside)? That is normal and healthy, but it’s also how the hallucinations start. The brain interprets some frequences as possible cases of a specific sound, and it does so using imagination and pattern recognition, I guess. Much of our hearing in daily life is the result of such processes, to varying degrees. Thus it’s not a qualitative difference, but a gradual one. So basically, the distinction between inside and outside is a construction. We don’t need to read old theravadan texts to learn that. Science says the same thing. I know a woman with dementia who used to have hallucinations because of her medication. Sometimes she would see a big black dog in her livingroom, as detailed as if it was physically there. Her friends asked her ”What did you do then? Did you pet it?” She replied ”No, I couldn’t possibly do that. It wasn’t real.” She also had reoccurring distorted perceptions. For example she could see her own sofa in the wrong size, as if it was a tiny miniature. First she would admire the detailed production, but then she would realize ”Oh, that really IS my sofa!”, and then she would actively change her perception, making it big again, sort of manually. That doesn’t differ very much from my own meditative experiences. Once I found myself sitting upside down, which I knew was not likely to be the case for ”real”, so I imagined myself sliding down the inside of a circle until my perception matched what was likely to be more corresponding to reality outside the meditation experience.
Okay, that was a big sidenote. Now back to this session:
Oh yeah, I was having a similar problem with regard to the nimitta (it has come back). Is that physical sight or mental image? Most of my mental images are not something that I really see. I can watch the purple swirls behind my eyelids and at the same time have a mental image, and the mental inage is much more vague and elusive. I can’t study it in detail, because it’s not actually there, if that makes any sense. These different kinds of seeing do not seem to occupy the same space. I don’t know if this is something that differs between people? Maybe if one’s mental images are vivid enough, it’s not possible to distinguish them from physical sight? Like with hallucinations. That seems reasonable. I would love input from others on this. I’m curious: if so, is there a moment when these different spaces merge into each other? How does that look? In dreams, unless one is having a lucid dream, the mental images seem to be convincing enough to be indistinguishable from physical sight. I tend to have a problem with reading in dreams, though, because either the content is unconscious or I didn’t bother to ”make it up” in the dream. Thus, my mind uses a lot of different tricks to cover for the lack of content. It may be too dark, or I may be too dizzy to be able to read, or too distracted to be able to remember any of the words long enough to make sense of them. Sometimes the words change while I’m reading, or move around, or get blurred (this has happened during meditation as well, but not in this session). That is usually the key for me, telling me that I’m dreaming - that and all sorts of problems with regard to availability of toilets, haha. Once I had one of those dreams and really needed to wake up for real, because I needed to go to the bathroom, but some lazy part of my mind tried to fool me into believing that I was already awake. Thus I made sure to find some text to read, which proved my point. Knowing that I was in fact dreaming, I made a huge effort to open my eyes. For a really brief moment, probably less than a second, the image changed into the view of my bedroom. They seemed to occupy the same space at that time, so obviously it should be possible even for me, as a not very visual person, to have mental images vivid enough for them to be indistinguishable from physical sight.
Back to the session:
The nimitta is back. It varied in size, density, brightness and color. Sometimes it had like an aura in a separate color. The colors appearing were red, orange, yellow, lime, green, purple and dark blue. I’m not sure exactly where to draw the distinction between a nimitta and the embryo of one. Maybe these were all embryos, I don’t know. I know that they are somethings different from the ordinary swirls, at least. The nimitta (or nimitta embryo) appears when I’m more focused (a more unified mind).
I noticed that observation changes the nimitta. Observation per se has an effect, but how I direct my gaze makes a difference too. For me observing the nimitta is tricky. It appears more clearly when I focus on something else. When I shift my attention to the nimitta, it tends to fade out. Sometimes it makes it bigger and brighter, though. I’m not sure what I do differently. I do know that when I try to focus on it with my eyes while at the same time looking down a bit, it gets smaller. For a moment it becomes more condensed, but then it fades away. If I defocus and look upwards a bit, it becomes bigger. Sometimes it becomes brighter for a while. In both cases, it tends to spread out and be undistinguishable from the rest of the vision gield. Sometimes this means that the entire vision field brightens up, sometimes it’s more like the nimitta gradually fades while spreading. Sometimes I’m not sure which one of these is occurring. At least once I thought that the nimitta had spread out, but then a new small nimitta appeared.
The nimitta is not reliable enough for me to base a kasina practice on it, not that I have that intention. Just stating the obvious.
That crackling sound in my right ear appeared when I was observing both inward and outward sounds, or whatever I should call them using such an arbitrary distinction. It seems to be related both to the disctinction between inside and outside and to the shifting of attention per se. I can’t tell if either of these relations is more central to this phenomenon than the other.
Peripheral clarity seems to have increased again, or rather, started to come back to a similar level as before. That makes me feel comfortable, so I guess that’s a clue to what I cling to as self. I didn’t investigate phenomenologically the feeling of being comfortable, unfortunately. I did investigate subtle anxiety/nausea, though. It seemed to entail heightened awareness of pressure to the heart, tension of muscles around eyes, and some kinds of sensations in the throat region that I have difficulties explaining. Intellectually, I think they may be related to the secretion of saliva. Phenomenologically... I don’t know... contractions?
There was quite a lot of mental talk on a very conscious and conceptualized level, with verbalization of whole sentences. Unfortunately, I was unable to investigate that on a sensate level. I was occupied doing analyses and thus lost in the content. I don’t know whether it’s possible to have such verbalized thoughts going on by themselves while the identification point is moved into the ”watcher” in order to observe on a sensate level. Maybe that’s what Shinzen Young calls auto talk?
To sum up: the distinction between inside and outside is a blur. Well, duh. |