Thursday, January 8, 2015

Why the Dryer Shrinks My Clothes

I remember the first time I attended a book club discussion. 

It was about 4 years ago and I'm pretty sure we were discussing the book, Women, Food, and God At some point during the conversation we got on the topic of clothes not fitting. This was one of the first times I remember publicly coming to the realization that I don't think how most other women think - at least about my body.

I'll have to paraphrase because I surely can't remember who said what or how but someone at that book club discussion shared how she really did not enjoy wearing the pants she owned because they always fit tightly and that made her think she was gaining weight and that made her think that she'd have to go on a diet and exercise more...  I don't remember anyone at this gathering looking like she needed to shed a few pounds so, her comment seemed odd. Like, why would you think such a thing? But everyone else in the room shared her sentiments and I've come to learn that a lot of women have automatic thoughts like these.

At this point, I'm pretty sure I thought to myself, "Huh. This happens to me, too, but all this time I thought my pants were just shrinking in the dryer. I never suspected I might be gaining weight." 

I'm serious. Every time I put on a freshly pair of laundered pants I have to do stretch-out-squats so they don't look painted on to my ample thighs. After a couple of wearings - because I am not the type of person to wash a pair of pants after one wearing simply because I wore them - I no longer have to do squats anymore and they fit just fine. Never once did the thought occur to me, "Hmm, these are fitting pretty tightly; I better not go get that double fudge cookie dough blizzard from Dairy Queen." 

Cause I would never say that. Ever. 

I think I even shared my thought process with the group which lead into some interesting conversations about where we thought our perceptions came from, etc. I don't remember too much else from that gathering and it didn't become a regular thing for me but this awareness of these automatic thoughts we have stuck with me for a long time.

I think perception is a wonderful yet frustrating disability that we all live with and try to compensate for because if we were without perception, what would we be? 

So, maybe we can't not be perceptive but we can actively change our perceptions so, instead of automatically thinking that you've put on 5lbs, you could instead think, "I need to reduce the heat on my dryer settings." The last one is a lot easier to do and it doesn't make you feel bad about yourself. :) 

Have negative perceptions that you've turned upside down? Please share them with me!

Friday, January 2, 2015

Why We Live to Learn to Live

This essay addresses three points from the NPR article, In search of a science of consciousness” by Alva Noe which, in turn, includes pieces from Evan Thompson's book, Waking, Dreaming, Being.

1) Omniscient Consciousness
I am fascinated by the concept of consciousness and how it is reconciled with the concept of perception but I've never thought of it in terms of colors as Noe does in the article but what I have thought about is the popular belief that consciousness ends when we die. I don't believe it does. I believe consciousness lives in the formless and is ever-present regardless of our physical condition, although it may take on different states.

This analogy is old hat but consider the Sun. I like to think of consciousness as the Sun. Our perception of consciousness is how we experience the Sun on Earth. The Sun is always there, suspended in space, doing what it does but depending on where we are on Earth, we may not believe we are experiencing the Sun's presence. For example, when it's cloudy outside most of us would say that we aren't experiencing the Sun; we are experiencing the clouds obscuring the Sun but we don't say it that way. We just say that it's cloudy. A better example is when it's nighttime. Even with a clear sky, most of us would say that the Sun isn't present. But it is; it's just on the other side of the Earth. If it were totally 100% not present then we wouldn't survive.

I think our consciousness behaves the same way. Whether we're fully awake and lucid, or whether we're clouded by alcohol or mental illness, or whether our physical presence has ceased to be: our consciousness is still there.

Just because we aren't experiencing it doesn't mean it's not there.
2) The Meditation Irony
The article talks about Thompson's exploration into the meditative practices of certain Buddhist monks which is another fascinating concept for me. Although I don't practice strict Buddhist meditation – I don't really have a label for my practice - I found many of the statements to be true for me. That, “...focused attention practices...can be thought of as techniques for attending to features of experience to which we usually pay no attention...adept meditators can see and notice things we rarely ever do.”

However, I was disappointed that Noe didn't call attention to the ironic. What I find in strict, traditional meditation practices, is that we essentially deny our five physical senses their innate faculties. We close our eyes, we remove artificial sounds, we don't move and thus reduce our sense of touch, we aren't eating or drinking, and in most cases our sense of smell is dulled.

The ironic bottom line: the senses we use 99% of the time to perceive the world are actually impeding us from perceiving the truth.

Sensory Deprivation Tank: for those who want a taste but no committment
3) A Beautiful Idea
Noe ends the article with Thompson's notion that, in order for Western science to develop an “adequate phenomenology of experience” we need to collaborate with monks “to understand better the character of experience and, so, take the necessary preliminary steps toward a better science of consciousness.” Not having read Thompson's book yet, I am not sure how much he elaborates on what this collaboration would look like. I suspect, however, that it may be shortsighted for two reasons:

First, if Western science continues to perceive and label monks as 'special' then we'll never be on equal ground which I believe is essential to effective collaborations. In fact, I think monks would be the first ones to say that they aren't special. Anyone can do what they do. The difference is they are doing it while we stand around wishing we could do it rather than just sitting down and doing it.

Second, it's the fact that we aren't doing it (meditating) that I believe would be the largest impediment to a Western science collaboration with Buddhist monks. If we honestly want to take “the necessary preliminary steps toward a better science of consciousness” then Western scientists who want to study such a thing need to grab a cushion and sit the hell down and breathe. I've never had a conversation with a monk but I've had some pretty enlightening conversations with my teacher/mentor/master who is probably the next best thing to a monk and if anyone were to listen in on those conversations and they hadn't been meditating for a while, they would think we were talking gibberish. I think the same will hold true for the Western scientists who try to have these kinds of conversations with monks. There are just some concepts that require a different vocabulary and a different level of perspective. And if you don't have that vocabulary or experience, no one can impart them to you just by talking or coming up with clever metaphors. Yes, you may get the gist but you'll never know for sure.

It would be like learning a new language without ever reading, writing, or speaking it. Sure, you'd probably be able to recognize words when you heard them but could you truly communicate with another human being? At some point, in order to master a new language, you have to read, write it, speak it. Even then, some die-hard linguists would say that that's not even enough. You'd have to go even further and live it.


I think the same is true for what Western science is trying to learn from the monks. Until we live it, we won't learn it.