Credo

Now in my sixties, each time I get into bed at night I’m aware of a background feeling of dread. Yet another day has passed all too quickly; I have a very real sense of hurtling through time towards death. I have no illusions that death is anything other than the absolute extinction of consciousness. Whilst I fear the process of dying, the thought of personal extinction does not appal me, at least whilst its not an imminent threat. I do fear that it will come all too quickly, especially since I feel that I have nowhere near achieved my potential. Life is sweet and I would not want to leave my wife and family whilst I am still able enjoy life with them. But far greater than my fear of extinction is my fear that just ahead of me might lie years of physical and mental incapacity and dependence. That seems to me to be the ultimate degradation of what life should be.

Yet I have faith, or perhaps just hope, that it is possible, whilst we are still engaged in the midst of life, to achieve a radiance of being from which joy, meaning and purpose can flow. Such a radiance of being would enable us to live creative and compassionate lives in communion with others and in a way that deepens our resilience in the face of the worst that might confront us. My hope is that if the worst happened and I became completely helpless, even unable to speak, I would still be an inspiration to those supporting me, because such radiance would still be evident, if only through a gleam in the eye or a squeeze of the hand. Perhaps my last gift would be my need for their compassion, which would ennoble them. So, perhaps, the prime goal of life ought to be to achieve such radiance, so that one’s life is transformed for the benefit of oneself, others and the World.

But how might such radiance be achieved? The mystics and seers of the World’s great religions tell us that a profound serenity, even bliss, can be achieved through deep and sustained meditation or prayer, the purpose of which is to focus our attention onto what is most fundamental about existence in that moment. It is said that in such moments one achieves a state of consciousness freed the ego-centric realms of fantasy or of a distortedly remembered past or imagined future. It is commonly reported that when the ego is overcome it can be replaced by what William James, the American philosopher called ‘cosmic consciousness’ – a sense of not being a separate entity observing the rest of reality, but of being an integral and inseparable part of all that is.

Too often it seems those who claim to have achieved such a spiritual breakthrough are in the World but not of the World. I live in hope that it is possible to achieve a radiance of being that is intimately connected to the stream of daily life of ordinary people, with all its joys, sorrows, struggles, failures and achievements. People need to a find meaning and purpose in life that is greater than themselves – something that both ennobles each life and outlives it. If, as I believe, the quest for an eternal life is both self-defeating and negation of what is most important in human life, the only entity worthy of our love and devotion that far outlives us is the World itself: the miraculous physical, ecological, cultural and social environment that gave birth to each of us and that will bear our legacy into the future. My hope, therefore, is that there is a way to live my life as a radiant and compassionate gift to the World, which is the realm of humanity’s shared existence, hopefully for millennia yet to come.

The possibility of a spiritual epiphany without God

It seems that a common aspiration in all spiritual traditions is self-transcendence. This is hardly surprising since much of religious doctrine is aimed motivating the individual to abandon self-centeredness as a moral imperative and to follow the paramount requirement to submit oneself to God. However, its clear from every spiritual tradition that some intense self-transcending practices can lead to what might be termed mystical or world-transcending experiences that provide, if only temporarily, a deep sense peace and joy and connection with the rest of creation.

Practices vary widely across all the great spiritual traditions and can involve, amongst many others, intense periods selfless prayer, group incantation, quiet meditative contemplation or even, in the case of Sufi Islam, swaying and whirling. What seems to be common is a relaxed form of deep concentration in which the sense of self, which is always most concrete when pondering the past or an imagined future, is temporarily suspended. At such times there is an acute but calm awareness, but not from the standpoint of the self, with its time-bounded obsessions of likes, dislikes, regrets, hopes and fears.

When the sense of self is overcome it is often replaced by what William James, the American philosopher called ‘cosmic consciousness’ – a sense of not being a separate entity observing the rest of reality, but of being an integral and inseparable part of all that is. There may well be physiological reasons why humans are capable of such experiences. In her well-known talk at one of the TED conferences, the neurophysiologist, Jill Bolte Taylor relates a powerful experience that she had when she suffered a huge stroke in the left hemisphere of her brain. Between periods of panic, during which she tried to overcome her impaired language and motor control in order to phone for help, she had experiences of great joy and expansiveness. During these periods she felt her body to be without boundaries and herself connected in a free exchange of energy with the whole of the rest of reality. This she attributes this experience to the suspension of those seemingly left-hemisphere functions that define our physical boundary and our sense of self as being locked in a continuum of time between past and future. Other neurological researches into mystical experiences seem to confirm that that there are indeed areas of the brain that control our sense of our body’s physical boundary and its place in space and when these are ‘switched off’ such powerful experiences can occur. Since, I take it as axiomatic that all mental processes are underpinned by physiological processes within the embodied brain (this, in my view, does not entail reductionism), I don’t think that physiological explanations of how such experiences might occur invalidate them. We know that some people taking ‘psychedelic’ drugs, such as LSD, have reported similar experiences. The point is that such experiences are very powerful, even transformative, and allow insights into the nature of existence that may well be just as valid as those everyday experiences more usually dominated by an overriding sense of a bounded, separate self navigating between past and future. Like any other experience of the world, the elapse of time, which is such a fundamental and yet such an utterly mysterious aspect of normal consciousness, is a brain-mediated. If it attenuated in any way this must lead to a profoundly different experience of reality.

Unfortunately, I have never had such a life-changing experience myself; at least not to the degree I believe some have genuinely experienced. Like almost everyone else, I have had moments of uplifting joy and, perhaps, fleeting moments of insight, usually when out walking and opening up to the beauty of the natural world or when listening to great music. A number of times I have had a delicious sensation of a lightness of being after spending a 45 minute train journey to London in a semi-meditative state cultivating goodwill towards my fellow passengers. However, I cannot claim that any of these individual experiences, all of which quickly faded, have been profoundly life changing. But I take it on trust that such epiphanies are possible and that it should be an essential part of any spiritual path to follow practices that open oneself up to the possibility of such transformative experiences occurring.

I also take it on trust that such spiritual illumination is possible without necessarily attaining sainthood or achieving perfect enlightenment in the Buddhist sense. I’m happy to be agnostic about how far any individual can approach a completely transformed state, let alone perfection, however that may be defined. But profound experiences that are blissful and that open one up to new dimensions of reality seem to be both attainable and highly desirable. However, from what I have learned in Buddhism, the pursuit of spiritual illumination as an end in itself may well be self-defeating, especially if such a quest were mainly self-serving. It seems that spiritual illumination is more likely to occur as a by-product, if we assiduously follow practices that engender selflessness, love, compassion, peace and acceptance for their own sake.

The core of any profound experience is ineffable – it that cannot be adequately explained in conceptual terms, which is perhaps why some of the very greatest artists have sought to convey their essence through the poetic and metaphorical language of the arts. However, given that such experiences are so powerful, its natural that people should want to communicate their impact and significance. This it seems to me is where the danger lies, because hitherto most attempts to explain such experiences have entailed using conceptual language drawn from the individual’s religious worldview. In so doing, they are drawn into making claims about the nature of the shared universe that can’t be justified in rational terms. Experiences of ‘cosmic consciousness’ might be explained as union with Christ, God or Allah or the liberation from the rounds of earthly rebirth or reincarnation or some other access to eternal life. Most of these claims must be mutually exclusive and so, if we’re not careful, we can slide back into the destructive cycle where our highest spiritual aspirations lead us to make exclusive claims of certainty about the world that cannot be verified and can lead to disunity at best and global conflict at worst.

The great challenge for the humanistic spirituality that the world so desperately needs as it enters the Global Age, is to discover a great new spiritual vision (a great dharma, to use a Buddhist term), partly inspired by the awesome panorama provided by science, of humanity’s place in nature. Such a dharma would allow us to see a connection between moments of epiphany and our everyday lives, without the need for unverifiable claims, but in a way that enlarges our capacity to live our lives joyfully and compassionately as gift to all beings and to this world, which is the realm of humanity’s shared existence, hopefully for millennia yet to come.

The Buddha pointing at the Moon

There is a legend that Buddha likened his teaching, his Dharma, to a finger point at the Moon, which, in this analogy, represents the ultimate truth that can only be apprehended by experience and can never directly communicated in human language. He also liked his teaching to a raft that could ferry you across the river of greed, hatred and delusion. As he said, once over the river you would cast the raft aside, you wouldn’t carry it further, once it was of no further use to you.

This tells us that the Buddha perceived an ineffable truth about human existence in this World and that his teachings shouldn’t be confused with ultimate truth itself. In modern parlance, we might say that this truth must be written in the stars: it must be part of the fabric of our Universe. It asserts that human life, although it has come about over billions of years, through the vagaries of cosmic, stellar, geological and biological evolution, is not a purely accidental and meaningless process.

For those who have experienced the joy and freedom that the Buddha’s teaching can bring, it represents one of the great breakthroughs in our understanding of the human predicament (religious Buddhists would, of course, elevate the Buddha’s attainment even higher). For the danasattva, the human pursuit of wisdom is an unending quest to deepen our understanding of the Great Dharma at the mysterious heart of our World, the Buddha’s Dharma being but one great step in that quest.

The serenity and joy of meditation

Imagine a danasattva sitting in deep meditation. His attention becomes focussed. He can now see the figments of the ego flit across his mind and pass away. A delicious lightness of being floods his awareness. Gradually, the burden of egocentric selfhood drops away. He is not ‘blissed out’: his attention is exquisitely poised; universal loving kindness arises. His being is filled with light as his awareness soars and expands so that he feels the boundary between his inner and outer selves and the rest of cosmos dissolve. He sits long with a feeling of deep and quiet joy until he is ready to return to the World with a generosity of spirit that overflows.