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Experiments in Experience

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mindfulness exercise

Pay atten­tion!

Last arti­cle, we looked at two “mind states”–experiential and nar­ra­tive. I want to look at both in some depth.


In Bud­dhist thought, there are 6 senses — sight, hear­ing, touch, taste, smell, and “Mind.” We tend to for­get that these inputs (eyes, ears, body, tongue, nose, “mind”) are mean­ing or story free. In other words, the data received has no mean­ing until we tell our­selves a story. We for­get this because the process of input to sens­ing to nam­ing to nar­ra­tive nor­mally hap­pens “in the blink of an eye.”

Nonethe­less, each stage is distinct.

As an anal­ogy, imag­ine the 6 senses as 6 radio chan­nels on a radio. Now, if the radio is tuned to sta­tic, noth­ing comes through. How­ever, the actual radio sig­nals are “in the air.” That we do not notice (we haven’t tuned in to the sig­nal) is imma­te­r­ial. The data is there, supposedly?

Sup­pos­edly?

Well, we could spend a bit of energy on think­ing about whether some­thing is “real” if it is not per­ceived by some­one. This is the basis of “If a tree falls in the for­est, does it make a sound?” Let me just toss this out as a weird answer. There is no way to prove the tree makes a sound if no one is there to hear it. Even if you set up a dig­i­tal recorder to record the sup­posed sound, this proves noth­ing until some­one checks it to see if there is a sound recorded.

Thus, things are actu­ally not real until some­one (not some thing) per­ceives them.

This is actu­ally impor­tant, as we assume that “stuff exists inde­pen­dently of us.” To repeat, the only way to prove some­thing exists is for a human being to notice it.

For exam­ple, I just learned that the Google Bot scours the entire web once a day, ana­lyzes each new page it finds, and adds the data to its server data­base. How do you prove that? You search (a human being searches) the data­base, and the result shows up. No other way to prove it.

Mean­while back at my point…

antenna

I’m pick­ing up… wait a minute… flowers!

OK. So, sig­nals are (the­o­ret­i­cally) all around us, and to go back to the radio anal­ogy, we tune into a chan­nel. We then receive the data. And just like a radio sig­nal com­ing into clar­ity as we tune the radio, the next thing that hap­pens is that we begin to trans­late the sounds into words, or we iden­tify the genre, name, and artist of the song play­ing. (This is “naming.”)

Then comes what I call the choice point.

As I name, I reach a fork in the road. I can sim­ply immerse myself in the music and let it take me. (We’ve all had the expe­ri­ence of being “caught up” in the music, paint­ing, con­ver­sa­tion, project — we call this many things, includ­ing being in the zone.)

If I let myself go into the expe­ri­ence, I am, or I become, the experience.

If I tighten up, I tend to begin a process of nar­rat­ing the expe­ri­ence. And nar­ra­tion is always one step removed from the actual experience.

The nar­ra­tive fork in the road (using the cur­rent exam­ple of lis­ten­ing to music):

we decide if we like the song, whether we want to lis­ten to it, tune it out and wait for the next one, or change chan­nels. (This is ‘judg­ing,’ and is a part of our per­sonal nar­ra­tive.) We then think about other times we heard the song, think about the band/singer, etc. etc.

We tend to notice only one chan­nel at a time.

For exam­ple, I have a client who, when receiv­ing body­work, used to pop into his head and tell him­self sto­ries when I pressed on his shoul­ders. To describe this as above, he was tuned into the “touch” chan­nel, and was sim­ply expe­ri­enc­ing the sen­sa­tion of the body­work. On the shoul­der touch, again there is the oppor­tu­nity to be “in the shoul­der,” or to step away. In his case, he pops into his head, leaves his body, and starts remem­ber­ing all the times in the past he’s felt over­worked and over-responsible. He thus exits the expe­ri­ence, and ends up story-telling. In a sense, he’s “left the table!”

Now, there’s noth­ing inher­ently “wrong” about either fork in the road. The issue is one of atten­tion, notic­ing, vs. escap­ing into fantasy-land.

Here’s an Exper­i­ment or two

The idea behind these exper­i­ments is to prac­tice stay­ing “in the body” for a bit. In other words, to have the expe­ri­ence of expe­ri­ence, thus mov­ing rapidly from expe­ri­ence to sim­ple nam­ing to expe­ri­enc­ing.

The Fruit Experiment

mango

This one is pretty typ­i­cal of expe­ri­ence prac­tice. You’ll need a flavour­ful fruit—say mango slices, or orange seg­ments. Sit, and bring you atten­tion to the fruit in a bowl. Look at the fruit — really look. See how the light reflects off of it’s sur­face. Notice your Mind, doing it’s thing. It will go: “Mango. Orange colour. Smooth tex­ture. Con­trasts the bowl. At a right angle to the piece below it. 6 pieces, stacked in bowl. etc.” This is naming.

As your Mind does this, bring your­self back to look­ing, with­out telling a story about mangoes.

Now, get your nose involved. Smell the fruit. Again, Mind will label, or name. “Sweet smelling, mel­low, etc.” Keep smelling.

Now, touch the fruit. Really feel it. You can even smoosh the fruit between your fin­gers. Let your­self play with your food! “Squishy, smooth, sticky.” Feel the fruit.

Now, put some into your mouth. Taste it. (“Sweet, juicy, etc.”) Chew the fruit for 90 sec­onds, with­out swal­low­ing it. Move it around in your mouth and notice how the flavour shifts in inten­sity. Feel what if feels like on your teeth, gums, mouth. Then, swallow.

Likely, you were able to do that, and also likely, your Mind popped into nar­ra­tive mode every now and again.

You know it was “nar­ra­tive mode ” because you thought,

This is stu­pid. I hate being told what to do. No one in their right mind chews a piece of fruit for 90 sec­onds. I can’t believe I’m sit­ting here doing this. I could be get­ting some real work done. I won­der what peo­ple would think if they saw me doing this.”

Mind. Narrative—telling stories.

Hope­fully, as such things arose, you sim­ply shifted atten­tion, and came back to the experience.

Paired Experience

You can do the same exper­i­ment with another per­son. In this case, pre­pare a plat­ter with the range of flavours—sweet, sour, salty, astrin­gent, bitter.

  • Per­son receiv­ing, wear a blind­fold, to cut off sight (our dom­i­nant sense.)
  • Giver, feed bits and bites of the food on the plat­ter to your partner.
  • Receiver, remem­ber to “just expe­ri­ence” each piece, as well as the sen­sa­tion of being fed. As Mind kicks in, breathe, and come back to the experience.

Why do this?

I want you to have a choice. Most of us spend 90% of our time up in our heads, telling our­selves sto­ries— nar­rat­ing our lives instead of liv­ing them. We drop out of pres­ence and drift off into our sto­ries. Again, noth­ing “wrong” with our sto­ries — except that they are not real.

Real is our moment-by-moment experience.

So, we need to come up with ways to expe­ri­ence experience.

headstand

Dar­bella and I do level 2.5 Iyen­gar Yoga. At last night’s class, we were all laugh­ing about how hard we’d found last week’s class. I men­tioned how, when I got home, I had a hard time walk­ing up the stairs, as my legs were tired and sore. This is nar­ra­tive. We all had a story to tell. No problem.

Where this would be a prob­lem would be if I went: “Wow. I must be get­ting old and achy. I can’t do this.” And gave up yoga.

Last night, we did a fairly long head­stand prac­tice. We were using a belt to expe­ri­ence dif­fer­ent ways to elon­gate the shoul­der mus­cles, and to move the shoul­der blades down the back (this forms a solid base for the headstand.)

My Mind had a few things to say. “Wow. Your sinuses are get­ting full. Your neck is tight. You need to engage your shoul­der mus­cles.” This is “naming.”

Mind, telling stories—narrating: “Are you sure you want to do this? Can you do this? You’ll have a headache tomor­row. Why can’t you do this better?”

Those com­ments came as I was in headstand!

So, I breathed, and came back into the expe­ri­ence of the head­stand. Again and again.

Next week, I’ll sug­gest a cou­ple of whole body experiences.


Make Con­tact!

So, how does this week’s arti­cle sit with you? What ques­tions do you have? Go to the top of this arti­cle, click on the title, and leave a com­ment or question!


Work­shops, Retreats!

Dar­bella and I can help you to find a new, vibrant, rich path. We offer day-long and week­end events —just you and us—and we will work with you, to be the change you want to see.

Read about it here:

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Related posts:

  1. A Ques­tion of Experience
  2. Always Open / Closed
  3. Body and Mind


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  1. […] Exper­i­ments in Experience […]

  2. Ray (Reply) on Monday 26, 2009

    Most of us spend 90% of our time up in our heads, telling our­selves stories…“Nattering” our lives instead of liv­ing them…??
    Ha, Ha
    R

    • wayne (Reply) on Monday 26, 2009

      Yes, nat­ter­ing indeed. Noth­ing worse than sit­ting there and talk­ing to your­self, instead of liv­ing life!


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