Sandy raises a point that comes up a lot. When you write about "spiritual" versus "non-spiritual" people, our mind tends to immediately think in extremes – often helped by the extremeness we have experienced with those two classes of people!
It's easy to think of "spiritual" implying all the good virtues – generosity, faithfulness, control of negative emotions, a reverence for life, etc., and "non-spirituality" as implying nothing but greed, cynicism, evil, immorality, etc. Certainly many people who label themselves "spiritual" claim they represent all that's good and everybody else is evil.
But let's step back a bit.
First, the way a person is conventionally labeled can sometimes be useful, especially when your dealing with general characteristics of large numbers of them. "Short people don't make winning pro basketball players" is a useful generalization when you're putting together a team, but not absolutely true. So some of the nastiest people may label themselves "spiritual" and fool others into buying into that label – we humans are good at deception – and some who call themselves "atheists" may be among the nicest people around.
Second, let's remember that having a philosophy or belief system about the world that you derive the "spiritual" and "non-spiritual labels" from is an intriguing and often fun intellectual activity, to usually be engaged in when times are easy. But when you're under stress and things get tough, intellectual philosophies may go out the window, without you even noticing, and you are run by instincts (psycho-biological programs built into the human bio-computer) and emotions. On the one hand, we have the saying from some general that there are no atheists in foxholes. On the other, many a person has gone from a sweet idea of a benevolent God to a "Fuck you, God, you don't even exist, you phony!" attitude when a loved one dies of cancer or the like.
Indeed I'd argue that if we were good at self-observation, we would probably notice our position on "spiritual" vs "non-spiritual" changing many times per day with mood and circumstances.
Third, let's also remember that there are many variations in the beliefs associated with words like “spiritual,” “materialist,” “atheist,” etc.
So in a group, general sense, then, when I'm talking about "spiritual" versus "non-spiritual" people or belief systems, I'm making generalizations that have to be modified in individual cases. If I say someone is a “materialist,” e.g., of the kind I discuss in The End of Materialism: How Evidence of the Paranormal is Bringing Science and Spirit Together, I'm talking in general about people whose intellectual philosophy is that everything is made up of material objects, moved only by material forces, and that there's no logical place to talk about “ideals,” “morals” or the like except as biological outcomes of mindless and purposeless physical forces operating over billions of years since the (meaningless, it just happened) Big Bang. If, as I discuss in the book, you truly believe this, then looking out for your material welfare is certainly the most sensible thing to do: it's all you have, really. All those emotions, satisfactions, hopes, fear, loves, etc. are biological byproducts and are totally dependent on your physical well being.
If I describe someone as “spiritual” or spiritually inclined, on the other hand, I'm describing someone whose intellectual philosophy (and perhaps some deeper experiences) is that there is some other kind of real level of existence than the material, and the goals and values stemming from contact with this “higher” level are much more important than mere material ones. When Canadian physician R. M. Bucke, e.g., whose Cosmic Consciousness experience is described in The End of Materialism says
“Among other things he did not come to believe, he saw and knew that the Cosmos is not dead matter but a living Presence, that the soul of man is immortal, that the universe is so built and ordered that without any peradventure all things work together for the good of each and all, that the foundation principle of the world is what we call love and that the happiness of every one is in the long run absolutely certain…”
we may be deeply touched, especially if we think of ourselves as “spiritual.” If we are logically materialists, though, our only sensible conclusion is that Bucke experienced some sort of seizure where his brain malfunctioned, for the cosmos is dead, man has no soul, and the universe has no care whatsoever he we live or how our lives come out.
Dr. Alan Smith, whose Cosmic Consciousness experience is described later in the book, was an agnostic before his experience, now he's quite spiritually inclined. That's an illustration of what I briefly alluded to above, that our “philosophy” may be created by much more than intellectual speculation about life.
So a person may be an “atheist” and a very nice person – they can blame in on the human firmware, the biological instincts they inherited. Or a person may strive to be good because of what they believe and seek about the “spiritual.” Or a person may be good or bad as the result of enormous social and psychological pressures in their upbringing. Or, or, or….
Bottom line in my writing: I'd like to do a bit to make the world a little better place, I think generally (not exclusively) having “spiritual” values leads people in that direction more effectively than having just “material” values. My concern in The End of Materialism was to help people who have been denying their spiritual aspects because they think science had “proved” that spirituality was all nonsense. The next book, Explorations on the Spiritual Side, will be to share some ideas and reflections about getting on with developing our spiritual side in modern times….
Tags: agnosticism, atheism, atheists, belief, brain functioning, Charles T. Tart, Charles Tart, cosmic conscioiusness, Institute of Transpersonal Psychology, ITP, Transpersonal
“This is way oversimplified, of course.”
The Wikipedia article on Jhana explains it in some detail.
The idea of access concentration came after Buddha. He taught his students to do vipassana from within the jhana state, it was Buddha’s innovation to combine concentration and vipassana.
Some people have a hard time with concentration meditation so it is fortunate that they can use vipassana with access concentration. Other people, like me, have difficulty with vipassana. My nervous system is too excitable. I need the tranquility and detachment that comes from concentration meditation or I can’t concentrate at all on vipassana.
According to wikipedia, the Jhana’s don’t lead to enlightenment. But I think the concentration meditation involved, noticing distractions, letting go of them and refocusing on the meditation is transformative and is somewhat like vipassana.
So vipassana is the sine qua non of Buddhist practice but i don’t think it is necessary to denigrate or discourage concentration meditation because some people need it to do vipassana.
I think you also have to consider what the benefits are for the average person. A truly dedicated practitioner might only be able to get freedom from suffering through vipassana but for the average person I don’t know how the benefits between vipassana and concentration meditation compare. Probably different people have different needs, and aptitudes. Some might be better off with vipassana others with concentration.
Anonymous,
I guess I mean all of the lights I see. I’m not always sure where one kind stops and another begins. When I was given instructions in psychic protection from a professional psychic, she said to fill up my own aura with the sort of light that can be used to heal. She said that it is good to get used to wearing your aura farther away from your body. You kind of fill it up with light and push it outwards a bit. Strangely enough, I find that when I do this, people tend to give me more space. They give me both physical space and psychic space. I don’t get as overwhelmed.
Animals like people who carry a lot of light with them. Even wild animals seem to be less afraid of people who are bright. My husband always jokes that nothing is afraid of me. I always have to step over bunnies along the trail in the park. I’ve also encountered quite a number of large animals like bears, moose and mountain lions in my travels, and I’m happy to say that I’ve never had a bad encounter with any of them either (not that I don’t have a healthy respect for keeping my distance whenever possible). I’ve corresponded with a number of psychics who report the same kind of experiences with animals.
People react to light as well. I’ve sent light to people who were feeling sad or unwell, and it does seem to make a difference. I don’t tell them about it, but they seem to know. My father-in-law has commented on how I seem to affect people, and he doesn’t know about how I am. Complete strangers often come up and tell me their problems, and they quite often say how much better they feel after talking with me. A friend of mine who died of cancer used to tell me that she forgot about her pain when I was around. I wish I could have given her more than just a little bit of relief, but I suppose at least that much was better than nothing. Maybe the effects are really small, but I think that they do appear to be real. And I’ve heard similar stories from people who are professional psychics, not just ordinary people like me.
“This is way oversimplified, of course.”
I found a very good explanation of how vipassana, samadi and jhana fit into the larger perspective of Buddha’s teaching:
One Tool Among Many
The Place of Vipassana in Buddhist Practice
by
Thanissaro Bhikkhu
http://www.accesstoinsight.org.....etool.html
In
The Path of Concentration & Mindfulness
by
Thanissaro Bhikkhu
http://www.accesstoinsight.org.....cmind.html
http://www.accesstoinsight.org.....cmind.html
The author explains how Buddhist theory gets applied in meditation.
Anonymous, are you OK? Sorry to go off topic, but your colors just aren’t YOU for some reason. Sorry if I’m over reacting.
anonymous Reply:
November 9th, 2009 at 2:33 am
Hi Sandy,
What do you think the change in colors mean (if it’s personal please tell me by e-mail).
The only unusual thing that I am aware of is I cut my finger, at 2 am Sunday morning. There was a lot of blood in the kitchen. Stupidly, I decided to use my finger as a backstop to keep the dull but serrated butter knife from flying away when it broke off the chunk of cheese I was trying to cut. I lost a deep gouge of skin from my finger, but a band aid seems to have taken care of it. I don’t think I need to go to the emergency room. It wasn’t too painful but it is very inconvenient trying to do everyday things while trying to protect the injury from getting bumped.
Thanks for your concern.
How are things with you?
Sandy Reply:
November 9th, 2009 at 11:31 am
Anonymous, I didn’t know what the change meant. I just saw a change. You seem more like you now. I’m the sort of person who faints at the sight of blood though, so what happened to you might have been enough to make a change in what I see. Oddly enough, I don’t usually notice individual colors on a message board. I hope your hand heals quickly.
anonymous Reply:
November 9th, 2009 at 12:19 pm
I don’t think it was the sight of blood or the loss of blood. I donate blood every eight weeks. However, I felt pretty bad about doing something so stupid. I have a phobia of doing stupid things … and a vivid imagination. Maybe that was it.
Sandy Reply:
November 9th, 2009 at 2:33 pm
I’m glad you’re OK now. I was upset when I saw the change in colors. I don’t know why, but I was.
anonymous Reply:
November 9th, 2009 at 10:23 pm
I should have read this first:
http://health.yahoo.com/emerge.....3spec.html
Stop the bleeding, clean the wound, apply antibiotic ointment (helps keep the bandage from sticking), then bandage.