Introduction

There are several conflicting views on consciousness. For example, among scientists the most popular view is that consciousness is an accidental by-product of matter. Many scientists hold that as matter, the physical stuff of the universe, becomes more and more complex in evolving brains, consciousness emerges, as it were by chance. When the brain dies, consciousness ends. Some people find this a depressing view. Others, perhaps more surprisingly, are relieved by this thought. In a book about euthanasia called ‘Dancing With Mr. D’ by Bert Keizer, an old lady reprimands a smarmy young man, who is trying to sell her a system for recording her memories for her descendants, with the words "Young man, you’ll find that at my age nothing matters."

Many religious people on the other hand hold that consciousness is separate from matter and resides in the soul. The soul is considered to be primary and the world of matter is often thought to be a kind of school where the soul is tested or put through its paces or given the opportunity to learn certain lessons. Depending on the precise nature of the religion, if the soul does well it may either be united with God or earn a favourable rebirth.

The spiritual view of the connection between consciousness and matter is more complex. The physical universe is sometimes thought of as an emanation of consciousness and the particular nature of the world the person lives in may be seen as a creation of their individual psyche. So if we want to change the nature of our external reality, we must cultivate self-responsibility and change our internal reality. Other spiritual outlooks stress instead that as it is the nature of external reality always to be transitory, as everything is constantly subject to change, it is wiser to cultivate acceptance.

In this book I have presented another view, that consciousness is not only primary but it is all that there is, that the appearance of ourselves and of the world we live in is consciousness appearing as everything. The waves and the foam are not separate from the ocean that gives rise to them and we are not separate from the light of consciousness in which we and everything else arise. Even though this may not be understood by the mind, it may be seen in liberation. Then it may be known that there is no self and that "Everything that comes from birth undoes itself in liberation."

We are here to talk about nothing less than the end of the sense that there is a person.

The sense that I am a separate person in a sometimes alien world gives rise to certain inescapable thoughts and feelings. Chief amongst these, apart from ‘I exist’, is the feeling that I am able to make autonomous choices, that I have a life which I am in charge of in some way, that I am the executive director of a project called ‘my life’.

Many of us go through life oscillating between grandiosity and despair. Some of us settle on one of these positions. The degree of autonomy that we feel will depend on the position that we adopt as we try to negotiate our life. If our position is despair, we may adopt the role of a victim. This is a surprisingly popular role in which we see our choices as very limited. We will see circumstances, other people or our accursed fate as controlling us and imposing suffering on us. But even for someone in a victim role there will be some sense of choice, some sense of negotiating the blighted wasteland of our life through the exercise of our own free will.

In grandiosity, a magnificently arrogant role may be adopted. One way this emerges is in our many determined beliefs that we can ultimately understand (or already now understand) the mystery and miracle of this incredible manifestation. Some of the stories told about this require us to believe in a God whose intentions and preferences we know. We may believe that we know who God wants us to smite and who should be left unsmitten.

Or some of the stories might be scientific ones. We might believe that because we have understood something about the mechanics of memory and perception, we have explained consciousness. Or because we have developed a coherent theory about the Big Bang, we have explained the existence of everything.

A scientist with more humility and an appreciation of the mystery of life was quoted on the radio recently. He’d written a recipe for making apple pie. It began

‘First, plant one apple tree.’

and it went on

‘In order to do this, you will need to create a planet.’

This reminded me of the story of a group of scientists who went to God and said "We don’t need you anymore. We’ve discovered how to make life from dirt, just like you did." God said "That’s very interesting. Why don’t you show me how you do it?" So one of the scientists bent down and started scooping some dirt up from the ground. God said "Oi! What do think you’re doing!" The scientist said "I’m getting some dirt ready." God said "That’s my dirt! You create your own!"

Without humility, we do not notice that in our explanations of how things are there is always an infinite regression back to that which cannot be explained.

Another scientist with humility, a psychologist, contributed
a definition of consciousness to a dictionary of psychology. It was extremely short and it ended with the line "Nothing worth reading about this has ever been written." And a cognitive psychologist has written "Psychology is not ready to tackle the issue of consciousness." We might be tempted to add "And it never will be ready."

Whether we are arrogant or whether we are humble, whatever our belief system, there is almost always a belief in choice. In existentialism, for example, there is a great deal of emphasis on choice and it is held that even in the most restricted circumstances, the individual always has some ability to exercise free will. We may be tied to a stake, blindfolded, with ten rifle muzzles pointing at a target pinned to our chest, but it is felt that we still have a choice about how, for example, we orientate our thoughts and feelings towards this event. We can choose to face our imminent death bravely, to die defying our enemies, to regard our blood as being shed for a worthy cause. This is, of course, a very heroic story.

The idea that through choice we can make our life work is a very gripping one, even though the choices we apparently make are sometimes rather counterintuitive. We might be a little baffled about how we could ever have thought that drinking our tenth bottle of vodka this week would make our life work. Nevertheless there is this sense: "I am here. It’s sometimes quite difficult being on this planet. I can make choices and these choices may have the effect of making this stuff called life easier to handle." Our choices might be about getting a better job, drinking more vodka, finding a partner, buying a dog, going to live in an ashram. There will be a sense that these choices can have an effect on this huge work of fiction known as ‘My Life’.

But essentially it doesn’t matter what the choice seems to be about because it is in any case unreal.

In liberation, it is seen that all of this story of choice, autonomy and individual action is an incredibly persuasive fiction. Because there is no separate individual, there is no choice. The thought that we exist as a separate entity and we make choices is just another phenomenon that arises.

Of course there are many other stories about liberation which can be very attractive. One of the most attractive is that liberation will confer on us a permanent state of bliss. It’s a wonderful thought, though unfortunately it’s contradicted by the evidence of our entire lifetime, which shows clearly that everything is impermanent. Impermanence is one of the most obvious characteristics of existence. Everything is quite clearly in a constant state of change, of flux.

Nevertheless, the idea of permanent bliss through the attainment of a state of personal enlightenment can be so alluring that we may remain deluded by it. We may ignore our fifty or sixty years of experience that tells us that everything constantly changes.

A thought or a feeling may last for a few seconds. A cup of tea might last slightly longer. The fact that nothing is permanent, including bliss, is always staring us in the face.

There are other stories told about personal enlightenment. We may believe that this state can confer extraordinary wisdom on us, or magical powers, great insight, or an attractive golden aura. If our personality is attracted to these stories as a solution to the problem of being a person, it’s not surprising that they are very seductive.

They are very seductive but they have nothing to do with liberation. This may be one reason why the seeing of liberation can be such a shock. Instead of permanent bliss, great insight or magical powers, it is simply seen that ‘I’ am empty. What is here is empty space. This may also be why the shock is sometimes accompanied by laughter, when it is realised that all of our labours on the spiritual path had no meaning. It may be seen as a joke, a joke we played on ourselves, or rather a joke that Oneness played on itself.

Oneness pretends to be an individual who thinks it can do something to discover that it is false. Then it is seen that there never was anyone who could crack the code, who could discover the secret.

There never was an individual. There never was separation. There never was autonomy and choice. Seeing this can produce a lot of laughter. Seeing this can reveal everything as a miracle and give rise to gratitude.