The threads of reality

Transcribed from a conversation between Angelo Dilullo and Josh Putnam (favorite parts bolded):

Josh: This was something entirely different. It was almost like a spontaneous destruction and creation of all possibilities that, I guess, could be time. So, it definitely spills over into, just, all forms of reality, too, I suppose. Yeah, like, it kind of felt like a—I'll just describe it—this is always going to be conceptualized, of course, and it even came with some imagery in memory, but it was almost like these trillions of teal strings, like threads, kind of swirling in something like a sphere and pouring into an infinitely tiny singularity and vanishing. And also simultaneously, it's spewing something out, and it was just like a repeating cycle. And yeah, out here, in this distance, it was twisting and doing all sorts of chopping. It's really difficult to put into words, but it gave a very distinct sense that anything that could be, has already happened, almost—but not even like in a sense of a past.

Angelo: [...] There's something about it, like you said—it collapses into a singularity and then becomes infinite again, and again, and again. It has this essence of infinite penetration into itself. And also, it's fractal-like. It's as if no matter how far you zoom in, it just becomes more of itself, with more possibilities and iterations. And, at the very same time, nothing is moving at all. It's so paradoxical.

Josh: It's like the essence of paradox—that's what it felt like. There was this sense of being at the singularity, almost like the eye of a hurricane, and it was that nothingness. And you can't even describe it; even the idea of "nothing" is something. It was just... yeah, nothing—not even like it was a black space. There was nothingness; it was just frozen nothing. And then there was this turbulent outer, almost disk, and that just seemed like potentiality. It almost seemed like the stuff that dreams are made of, or the stuff that imagination is made of.

Angelo: It's very fundamental to the most fundamental way of experiencing anything at all. It just feels like this giddiness, like being able to experience anything at all is just a miracle, miraculous sort of ...

Josh: It felt as if there might have been a substance that was being simultaneously pulled apart—that was the substance, and I was the substance—and then put back and jammed so tightly into a tight singularity that there was nothing there. So, it wasn't like watching, or even necessarily feeling, but it felt so fundamental, like the threads of reality.

Angelo: I actually sort of avoid talking about it in videos and like, publicly, because it sounds so enticing, and there's nothing your mind can do with this. Like, you can seek it, but that's not it. But it's quite real, and I've called it "the fabric of reality"—that's the best terminology I've come up with for it. It's like a fabric of reality, sort of. Yeah, but it's even before overt reality. It's fundamental even to reality coming into being. It's neither something nor nothing; it's neither real nor unreal. It has way too much— I can say potentiality, or flexibility, or unhindered essence—to be encompassed by any of those terminologies, mind frames, or even physical confirmations, you know.

Anticipated regret

I was reflecting on my propensity for indecision which, despite all my spiritual practice, is a trap I seem to fall into way more than anyone else. And the notion of anticipated regret came to mind (which I'm sure I must have read about somewhere, despite it feeling like a fresh idea of mine).

Anticipated regret is the experience right now of the regret that we think we may feel in the future, typically about decisions we are currently considering making. This unpleasant feeling may well affect our decisions, sometimes wisely and sometimes less so.

The mind sure is twisty! We're imagining now that in the future we'll feel bad about the past, which ruins the present. This reminds me of some ideas from Bernardo Kastrup's More Than Allegory:

The sophistication and skill with which we trick ourselves in these circular cognitive games is dazzling. We imagine a future wherein we remember a past wherein we predicted a future that matches the future we are now imagining. From this tortuous intertwining of imaginings we conclude that the future and the past must exist, well, objectively, even though all the while we’ve never left the present. Wow! Do you see how we create past and future out of thin air? Past and future are myths: stories in the mind. If you truly grok this, you will be dumbfounded.

The usual process for me is trying to curtail the anticipated regret by collecting more data, or trying to think more clearly, so that the right answer becomes clear. (Spoiler alert: it never does.) But the longer that process lasts, the more I'm reinforcing the propensity for regret in the mind -- which means that I'm more likely to regret the decision no matter what it is. That's obviously bad. Worse, because the building feeling of anticipated regret is interpreted as regret that will be felt later (if I make the wrong decision), it becomes all the more important that I get the answer right. You see where this goes.

Any sane person would just put his foot down, make a decision, and live with it. But alas, I'm me, so I'm going to sit here and philosophize.

Next up is this quote from one Vinay Gupta:

Lowering the mental background noise means going through all the emotional layers and all of the attachments that generate thought. A single emotion that you don’t really deal with properly can generate 5 years of internal chatter. Should I? Shouldn’t I? Should I? Shouldn’t I? You finally come back and it’s this deep feeling of uncertainty about your place in the world. You feel it – it goes away. You’ve been liberated of an emotion, that stream of thought stops. And as a result your mind gradually empties and empties and empties and empties. 

(emphasis mine) 

That sounds closer to the root of the problem. Anticipated regret isn't really about what's going to happen -- though the mind is entirely convincing in its assertion that yes, that is what it's about, because yadda yadda. It's about an unresolved emotion now. It feels inconceivable that a "real problem" that has its roots in the past and tentacles in the future could be resolved now, but that's part of the central illusion. Bernardo again:

Existence only appears substantial because of our intellectual inferences, assumptions, confabulations and expectations. What is actually in front of our eyes now is incredibly elusive. The volume of our experiences—the bulk of life itself—is generated by our own internal myth-making. We conjure up substance and continuity out of sheer intangibility. We transmute quasi-emptiness into the solidity of existence through a trick of cognitive deception where we play both magician and audience. In reality, nothing ever really happens, for the scope of the present isn’t broad enough for any event to unfold objectively. That we think of life as a series of substantial happenings hanging from a historical timeline is a fantastic cognitive hallucination.

It would be nice to have a deep insight into the emptiness of time all the, uh, time, but if one has had even a glimpse of this truth, it ought to lend credence to the idea that resolving the unease now is key.

Or, as the sane person would put it: just make a decision and have faith that it will work out. 

A closer look

Close your eyes and listen carefully to a sound. Normally we think of "consciousness" as a property that you have that lets you experience the world. Instead, I now want you to conceive of consciousness as more like a substance that is currently taking the form of whatever sound you are intently listening to. Can you get the sense that "sound is made of consciousness?"

Some find this immediately intuitive. Others find it a little harder. Surely sound is made of something like air waves? If this is where you find yourself, just reflect on the fact that all experience happens in your mind. Sound, as one such experience, can therefore only be made of mind-stuff. Here we're just giving that stuff the name "consciousness." Don't let this remain just an idea: close your eyes and see that this is what noises actually are.

You can do this with other sensory objects, too. More subtly, do it with emotions and feelings. Finally, notice that your thoughts are also made of this "stuff."

Become really interested in what this "stuff" is. Be like a scientist in the field, examining it from every angle, in every guise. What, exactly, is it?

Now comes the really interesting question: who wants to know? "Well, I want to know, of course!" But that thought -- like all thoughts -- is just consciousness itself, in one of its infinite costumes. Try to find this "I" that wants to know. Maybe you feel a sensation behind your eyes, where it feels like the "I" must be. But this sensation is just consciousness shining, as well; no more special here than in any of its other myriad incarnations.

What if there is no "privileged position" where this one-who-is-conscious sits? What if the very idea of such a one is a myth; a story that's been told for so long that it seems too obvious to doubt?

But discovering the illusoriness of the supposed "I" is only half the fun. Because even if there's nobody there to be curious about what, exactly, this consciousness stuff is, it has become pretty damn interested in itself.

It's ineffable and ungraspable, yet "your" whole world is made of it. Look around. Pretty awesome, huh? And if you've ever had a moment where you're in awe of life's majesty and wonder, it's this magnificent substance you've been bowing before.

Whatever it is, it really deserves a closer look, doesn't it?

A poem by Nyendrak Lungrig Nyima

Although subject and object are not two,
They appear to us as fundamentally distinct entities.

And through attachment to them, we further strengthen this tendency.
Samsara is nothing else but that.

While good and bad actions are devoid of true reality,
By the power of our intention they produce joys and sorrows,
Just as seeds of sweet or bitter plants
Give fruits of corresponding taste.

Thus, the world appears similarly
To those with common karma,
And differently to those whose karma is different.

In fact, even if one “goes” to hell or elsewhere,
It is only a change in one’s perception of the world.
As in dreams, where the things that appear do not exist,
The root of all our illusory perceptions is the mind.

The nature of mind transcends the notions of existence
And nonexistence, eternity and nothingness:
To this nature is given the simple name “absolute space.”

That space, in itself perfectly pure,
That immaculate sky, empty and luminous, with no center or periphery,

Has always been in the heart of every being,
Its face obscured by the temporary veil of mental constructs.

It is hard to put an end by force
To the continuous chain of thoughts,
But if, when they occur, their nature is recognized,
Thoughts have no choice
But to be liberated in their own sphere.

Without pursuing past thoughts
Or inviting future thoughts,
Remain in the present moment, and simply recognize
The nature of whatever arises in your mind.
Relax in simplicity, free of intentions and attachments.

Although there is nothing to meditate on
Remain fully present without getting distracted.
By getting used to the way things occur of themselves, without altering anything,
Primordial wisdom, self-luminous, will arise from within.

“How is this so?” you might ask.
If you leave cloudy water undisturbed,
It will naturally become clear.
Most other meditations
Are only temporary ways to calm the mind.

The space of great unchanging emptiness
And the simple luminosity of uninterrupted wakeful presence
Have always been inseparable.
You must yourself experience that essential thing
Which is within you: no one can do it for you.

Ricard, Matthieu. On the Path to Enlightenment: Heart Advice from the Great Tibetan Masters (pp. 166-167). Shambhala. Kindle Edition. 

Forget about your brain

Everything you think of as "reality" is a construction or projection of your own mind. If you see this clearly, you will awaken.

Instead, most people think "well sure, everything I think of as reality maybe, but obviously there's also a real reality that's not a construction of my mind." Whether or not that's true, your rabid clinging to this belief will forestall realization.

Or maybe you think "obviously this is all a construction of my brain." But this is a grave mistake as well. You are convinced that if you could ever step outside your reality, all you would find is more of your reality -- in particular, a brain. Even the subtlest expectation of this kind thwarts what needs to be seen.

It is like trying to bungee jump, but every time you step off the platform, you carefully and transparently lay down more platform in front of you to catch you. You may think you've jumped, but you haven't.

The Marvelous Primordial State

From a root Dzogchen text (the Mejung Tantra):

The definitive secret instruction is the meaning of the marvelous [state]. The marvelous secret is that all phenomena originate from me, are created by me, expand from me, and I manifest in them. They emanate from me and are reabsorbed into the expanse [of my nature]. 

I enjoy myself in all phenomena that originate from me. I reveal and proclaim the greatness of myself in the qualities [that arise from me]. I show the total self in the phenomena that originate from me. As to their arising, phenomena originate from me and are re-absorbed into [my] expanse. Not a single phenomenon exists that does not originate from me or is not me.

Translator's commentary:

The definitive instruction consists of the fact that just as waves arise from the ocean, exist as the ocean, and subside in the ocean, all things originate from one’s self, exist as one’s self, and dissolve in one’s self. Without renouncing anything, enjoying the creations of one’s state, one meets the true condition, thus openly revealed as the all-inclusive reality.

Lama Gendun Rinpoche on the Nature of Mind

"The recognition of the nature of mind is the only thing that we actually need – it has the power to liberate us from everything and to liberate all beings in the universe, too.

All phenomena of the external world are only the manifestations of the luminosity of our own mind and ultimately have no reality. When we allow our mind to rest in the recognition that everything that it experiences is its own projection, the separation between subject and object comes to an end. Then there is no longer anyone who grasps at something and nothing that is being grasped at – subject and object are recognized to be unreal.

In order to experience this, we allow our mind to remain in its ordinary consciousness, the awareness of the present moment, which is the deep, unchanging nature of mind itself and which is also called “timeless awareness.” That is the natural insight that arises spontaneously when in every moment we look directly at the true nature of mind.

In seeing the nature of mind, there is nothing to “see” since it is not an object of perception. We see it without seeing anything. We know it without knowing anything.

The mind recognizes itself spontaneously, in a way beyond all duality. The path that leads to this is the awareness of the present moment, free of all interference. It is an error to think that the ultimate truth is difficult to recognize. The meditation on the nature of mind is actually very easy, as we do not have to go anywhere to find this nature. No work needs to be done to produce it; no effort is required to find it. It is sufficient for us to sit down, allow our mind to rest in itself and directly look at the one who thinks that it is difficult to find the nature of mind. In that moment, we discover it directly, as it is very close and always within easy reach.

It would be absurd to worry that we might not succeed in discovering the nature of mind, as it is already present in us. It is sufficient to look into ourselves. When our mind directs its gaze upon itself, it finds itself and understands that the seeker and the sought are not two different things. At the moment, we cannot see the nature of our mind because we do not know how we must look. The problem is not that we do not possess the capacity for doing this but that we do not look in the right way.

To become capable of recognizing the nature of mind in the way described, we have to work at relaxing deeply and letting go of all wanting, so that the natural state of mind can reveal itself. This work is the exact opposite of worldly effort, in which we strive to obtain concrete things and put ourselves into a state of strain. In the practice of Dharma, we must “strain without effort.” This does not mean that we do nothing at all and simply remain as we are, because then we would continue to reproduce the same behavior patterns that have existed in us since beginningless time. We must make an effort to purify our ego-centered tendencies and become aware of our intentions.

We must also make an effort to meditate, otherwise no awareness, no insight will arise in us. But this effort should be free of ambition and of the wish to accomplish something. In a deliberate but relaxed way, we give all of our thinking and acting a wholesome orientation. Merely having the wish to become awakened is not sufficient. But we should also not strain after it, full of tension and impatience. The crucial thing is to change our attitude of mind – everything else follows naturally.

When we become proficient in accepting the movements of our mind in a relaxed manner that is free of judgment, even when these movements are strong and lively, greater clarity and transparency will arise in our mind. To have strong thoughts and feelings is actually a good thing – provided we deal with them in the right way. If we feel uneasy when emotions come up, then evidently we are still attached to a desire for a quiet mind.

Because of this attachment, we are easily tempted to want to have a pleasant meditation, a meditation without thoughts, problems and disturbances. We desire quiet and believe that when thoughts no longer arise, our mind will feel well. As soon as this wish is stirring, we can be sure that ego-clinging dominates: our longing for personal well-being pushes itself to the fore. This attitude is called hope – hope that something good will happen to us. It blocks the mind and prevents it from being truly free."


Rinpoche, Gendun. Heart Advice from a Mahamudra Master (p. 150). Norbu Verlag. Kindle Edition.