MOVING TOWARD KNOWLEDGE
MOVING TOWARD KNOWLEDGE
The Sevenfold Division
PART OF EPISTEMOLOGY is the knowledge of conceptions and perceptions, and of mistaken and valid minds, as we saw in the previous chapter. Another part is understanding the actual way we move from mistaken to correct minds and from conceptual to perceptual consciousnesses. In its examination of the validity of knowledge and the way we acquire it, the Gelug tradition commonly lists seven types of mind:
1. wrong consciousnesses
2. doubting consciousnesses
3. non-ascertaining consciousnesses
4. correctly assuming consciousnesses
5. subsequent cognizers
6. valid inferential cognizers
7. valid direct perceivers
WRONG CONSCIOUSNESSES
Wrong consciousnesses, whether conceptual or perceptual, are erroneous with regard to the main object. Although a direct sense perception can be a wrong consciousness, the error will generally be very superficial. The traditional illustration is seeing everything as yellow because of jaundice—although wearing sunglasses might be a more modern twist on this example. In contrast, wrong consciousnesses at the conceptual level, such as belief in a permanent self, can be quite deep.
Buddhist epistemology lists six sources of deception:
1. the object
2. the basis of perception
3. the situation
4. the immediate condition
6. repeated familiarization
I’ll deal with the first source of deception last. The second, the basis of perception, is deceptive when we mistakenly focus on an inappropriate object. Many minds and mental factors make up a mental event, and usually the mind moves to the most important but not always. Something can skew our appreciation of the object. For example, a loud sound can blind us to an oncoming car as we step off the curb.
The situation can also deceive us. For example, we may view a large male figure on a dark street as intrinsically threatening when no actual threat is present.
The immediate condition refers to the immediately preceding moments of mind that distort our appreciation of an event. An example is when intense anger leaves a residue that colors the following situation, causing us to see something we would ordinarily experience as pleasant or neutral as negative.
Karmic imprints trick us all the time. In fact, the propensities left on our mindstream from past actions have almost constantly programmed us to mistake things. The most important mistake relates to the suffering of change, where we cling to objects as intrinsically desirable only to set ourselves up for future suffering when they inevitably “fail” us. The fault lies not in the object, but in our perception of it.
Similarly, repeated familiarization distorts the picture, dulling perception and making mistaken attitudes seem normal and correct. We see this with political rhetoric, advertising campaigns, and dysfunctional families when violence and selfishness are �Àportrayed as desirable. It is also true of our habitual projection of self-existence onto objects.
These points are interesting to explore and, I think, reasonably easy to understand. But let us return now to the first source of deception on our list, the object. As I mentioned earlier, the object itself can also deceive us. The other sources of deception can be seen as subjective—they are all mistakes the mind makes. How is it that the object can be at fault?
In fact, the fault does not come from the side of the object, but rather from the inability of the mind to take in certain aspects of the object. These aspects are known in Buddhist epistemology as the four densities:
1. the density of continuity
2. the density of function
3. the density of object
4. the density of whole
Density is the word that English-language scholars use, but I prefer the Tibetan term, nyurwa or “quick”—as in, the object or event is too “quick” for the mind to apprehend.
The density of continuity refers to the mistake we make when we see a sequence of events in relation to an object and mistakenly impute them as simultaneous or continuous. The confusion arises because there the space of time between the first event and the second is so small. The traditional example of this is of an arrow that is shot through a thick sheaf of paper. To the naked eye, it seems that the arrow has instantaneously created a hole through all the paper, but in fact it has gone through each sheet separately, one at a time.
We see another everyday example of this when we watch a film. Each second of a film is made of twenty-four separate frames, and each frame is a still picture. Because the frames are run through a projector very quickly, however, the movement in the picture seems to be continuous rather than composed of discrete stills.
The density of function looks at a set rather than a sequence as in the first density, but other than that it is quite similar. For example, walking up stairs seems like one single action to us, but, if we think about it, we can see that it involves a complicated set of motions.
The density of object refers to the way we see an object as a whole rather than as a collection of parts. A black-and-white photograph in a newspaper might look like one image of continuous tones, but if we examine it closely we will see it is nothing more than a collection of dots. Our mind makes connections that aren’t actually present in the object itself.
The density of whole refers to objects that look uniform throughout although they are not. I see the front of something and presume the back and sides are identical. I bite into a delicious-looking apple only to find the inside is rotten. We are always making assumptions about wholes based on knowing only parts.
Recognizing that objects trick us all the time helps disengage us from appearances and look for deeper realities. Some people encountering television for the first time think that the characters and situations in soap operas are real. Of course we aren’t like that (at least I hope not!), but we might well get so wrapped up in a�À good film that we forget we are watching actors in fictional situations. And rarely are we conscious that the images we are watching on the screen are a series of still images.
This does not mean that objects and situations are utter illusions or that they do not function. They do function. A newspaper photograph functions as such, and merely because we fail to see that it is composed of many dots does not mean there is no photo. There is, however, an element of illusion at work that relies on our mind to fill in the spaces.
The lesson here is that we should not grasp onto things unreflectively, or take the labels our mind gives them as fixed. The capacity to create a little distance in this way can help us break the patterns that cause us so much unhappiness. This gap is essential for understanding reality and for reducing emotional distress
Lama Yeshe offers a simple yet effective meditation.
You check, you watch, your own mind. If someone’s giving you a hard time and your ego starts to hurt, instead of reacting, just take a look at what’s going on. Think of how sound is simply coming out of that person’s mouth, entering your ear, and causing you pain in the heart. If you think about it in the right way, it will make you laugh; you will see how ridiculous it is to get upset by something so insubstantial. Then your problem will disappear—poof! Just like that.29
Wrong consciousnesses are minds that process the information about their objects incorrectly. This might seem a pedantic point but it is important to realize that there is a difference in Buddhist epistemology between a wrong consciousness, such as we have been discussing, and a mistaken consciousness. The Tibetan term for wrong consciousness, lokshe, means “reversed consciousness,” implying a complete inaccuracy, such as seeing a flower and thinking it’s a horse. Mistaken consciousness (Tib. trulshe) is much more subtle, referring, as we saw above, to the conceptual mind’s inability to perceive an object directly. As I have said, the conceptual mind is always mistaken in this way, whether or not it is wrong.
DOUBTING CONSCIOUSNESSES
The second of the sevenfold division is doubting consciousnesses. This is a consciousness that is uncertain, wavering between one conclusion and its opposite. Everyday we are asked to make numerous choices, from products in the supermarket to decisions at work. If you are like me, most of those choices will be colored by indecision.
In Buddhist teachings, great doubt often arises in relation to the question of the inherent existence of things. We can listen to a teaching on emptiness and initially feel it is some esoteric concept that has nothing to do with our lives. That is doubt not tending toward the fact. If we hear more about it and start to feel that there is some possibility that things do not exist inherently, as the teachings are saying, that is doubt tending toward the fact. This is a powerful initial step in weakening the force of wrong view. It is the beginning of the process of moving toward correct understanding.
Even the suspicion that things and events may not be permanent is a thought diametrically opposed to our normal patterns and is in fact a very profound mind. As Aryadeva says in his Four Hundred Verses (Chatushataka): “Even through merely having doubts, cyclic existence is torn to �Àshreds.”
In the sequence that leads us from wrong consciousness to direct perception, doubt is one of the first types of mind we want to eliminate. However, early on, healthy doubts that tend toward the fact are in fact positive minds. For instance, to doubt that this is the only life we have and wonder if there is a next life might lead us to think about it, research it, and from the understanding we gain, produce a positive result.
The danger of doubt is the unsteady mind that does not examine closely and stays stuck in a wavering state, under the sway of whatever view was encountered most recently. If, while doubting the existence of future lives and not having examined the issue carefully, we attend a lecture by a charismatic speaker who asserts there is no life after death, we may get caught up in the presentation and immediately grant it credibility. In order to progress on the path, we need to move beyond this chronic indecision.
NON-ASCERTAINING CONSCIOUSNESSES
Every day millions of sensory experiences appear to our consciousness. Say you walk from your home to a nearby park. When you return, you might be able to tell your partner about the noisy dog, the new display in the shop window, or the leaves turning brown in the autumn chill—but in fact you do not ascertain the vast majority of sensory input.
If we could analyze our minds over a twenty-four-hour period, most of what we experience would fall into this category. Of course we pay attention when we walk down a street—our survival depends on it—but the mind cannot possibly take in everything. The mind must filter input to make sense of the world, otherwise it would be like receiving every radio station in the world at once. The majority of our mental events are consciousnesses to which the object appears but is not ascertained, meaning the object has been apprehended by the consciousness without enough force to register.
Similarly, we may attend to an object, but it fails to register deeply. There is no certainty about the object. We attend a talk on Buddhism, but two days later cannot recall what was discussed because the teaching did not penetrate our minds sufficiently. That is another example of the mind that apprehends the object without ascertaining it.
CORRECTLY ASSUMING CONSCIOUSNESSES
The fourth consciousness is the last of what is called the noncognizing consciousnesses, in that they are conceptions and not perceptions and so do not actually “cognize” or know their objects. Correctly assuming consciousness is a consciousness that conceives the object in accordance with reality, but in a fallible manner.
While the vast majority of our consciousnesses fall into the category of non-ascertaining consciousnesses, the majority of the minds that do ascertain the object are correctly assuming consciousnesses. We ascertain the object but only through assumption. This mind can be positive, negative, or neutral, and it is a necessary step in developing the actual mind of direct perception.
A correctly assuming mind draws its conclusion based either on no reason at all or on a faulty reason. We have heard it, it seems right, and so we accept it without our own reasoning or experience playing a part. Even if we do investigate it in some way, we don’t take this far enough. Investigation ceases before there is a full, clear understanding and whatever we are investigating becomes incontrovertible; it assumes without fully knowing. Correctly�À assuming means just that—the mind is correct about its object but it is only an assumption, without the weight of detailed analysis or realization. Very often cultural assumptions are taken as truths without investigation. I know many Tibetans who are very simple, devoted people who recite mantras every day and have unwavering faith in the law of cause and effect, but possess no understanding at all of subjects such as the four noble truths.
Because this consciousness assumes rather than knows, it has no real power to actually recognize the object. We learn about impermanence and assume that things are impermanent, which is good to a point, but the whole thing can become quite dangerous if we become content with our limited analysis and never go deeper, especially if our assumption is accompanied by a good deal of intellectual egoism. Generally in Tibetan Buddhism we talk of three wisdoms: the wisdom of hearing, contemplating, and meditating. Correctly assuming consciousness belongs to the first and is only really useful if it leads to the second, which takes whatever it has understood to the next level and eventually leads to single-pointed meditation upon the subject.
