Chapter 4: No Self

A Conglomeration

Near the top of the list of things I liked about the Buddhist path was the teaching on no-self. This is the idea that there is not a personal self - that what we think of as ourselves is just a conglomeration of random bits of conditioning, memories, habits, and experiences all held together by the ego so as to create the illusion of a self. The coherence is just a mirage.

Those random bits of mental flotsam and jetsam are just that. They don’t have any inherent cohesiveness or reality, but are, as they say, adventitious. When dreaming or meditating, random bits might float up to the surface and come into consciousness, but they don’t really mean anything about ultimate reality or about who you are. They are just pieces of our ordinary life.

From the little I have read, this seems to accord with current psychological theory about the self. In any case, it was an enormous relief for me. For one thing, it removed the idea that I was to blame for myself - or that I was responsible for making something of myself. It was wonderful to have no self to improve. I could give up all the energy invested in adjusting my persona, which was nothing more than rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic, and instead focus on the real goal of human life, which was to be stabilized in my buddha nature.

I was taught that my buddha nature is the same as everyone else’s, that it is always there and shines through either more or less clearly. The task is, first, to touch enlightened mind, then to practice discriminating between the ordinary mind and the awakened mind, always choosing Awareness, until one is firmly stabilized in it.

This was not essentially different from what I learned with Baba, where one had an experience of the Self and then did sadhana in order to become established in it. The difference was Self versus no-self. For me this was more about the stance one took in approaching the path than it was about philosophy. The stance I adopted from the Buddhists was to regard the egoic self as unreal, delusory, a dream from which one can awaken. In many ways, it was helpful to me.

The teachings of Kashmir Shaivism I had learned around Baba had also been helpful. It was helpful to consider the ordinary mind as merely a contraction of consciousness. There the sadhana was to find a way to expand the mind into the consciousness of Shiva, the absolute.

This made sense, but I can’t say that I had any particular practice around it nor did I have the experience. The experiences that I did have of higher consciousness just happened. They didn’t seem connected to my ordinary mind. I never had the experience of my ordinary mind transforming into the divine mind. Letting go of ordinary mind and then experiencing what was behind it or beneath it was a closer approximation of my experience.

No Self Leads to More Compassion

As an astrologer, I had been deeply interested in the variety of human beings. I saw that there are Uranic types, Marsy folk, Saturnine people, Neptunian, Plutonic or Mercurial types and every imaginable combination thereof. I was used to thinking of the uniqueness of each human being. Even identical twins have different charts. This was quite fascinating to me.

I also studied and taught the enneagram and other systems as well. I have had an abiding interest in the varieties of human nature evidenced by the fact that before spiritual life, I was pursuing a doctorate in cultural anthropology.

One of the positive side effects of contemplating the no-self idea was that I began to see all of the human attributes and qualities as more superficial and incidental. The qualities gradually became less fixed, less weighty and less burdensome. When I looked out at the world and people, everything was larger, the differences were contained in a larger field.

This subtle shift felt more compassionate and more realistic than my previous point of view. When I did focus on individuality, which of course I continued to do, there was a subtle difference-there was more of the sense of appearance than the sense of reality.

No Point in Self-Aggrandizement

Because the Buddhists are taught from the very beginning of the path that there is no self, it has an effect on the culture of the sangha, or group. Since there is no self, there is no point in self-aggrandizement, so it is not pursued quite so outwardly. Everyone at least pretends that they are not self-aggrandizing.

Also, with the idea of no-self, there is less frustration when dealing with lack of self esteem. There is not the belief that one must cultivate anger and resentment in order to develop proper self esteem. There is less narcissism. There is less emphasis on romantic love as the end-all and be-all.

While this is certainly less juicy, and less attractive in some ways than the culture at large, it is kinder, less harmful, less aggressive, and less competitive. Buddhists strive to be non-violent and I found it relaxing to be around those who at least hold the value of non-aggression in thought, word and deed.

Although I am aware that ideals held by a culture are not the same as the reality on the ground, still, a culture which holds, teaches and extols virtues, such as patience, humility, honesty, non-violence, and self-discipline, is preferable to me from almost every point of view. I believe there may be less suffering. Perhaps there is not, since humans are the same everywhere. All I can really say is that I resonated with that aspect of the culture.

Contemplating one’s own divinity is a good antidote to low self esteem, but I find that an equally compelling case can be made for contemplating no self. If there is no self then one doesn’t need to be anything or anyone. I find it a great relief to know that the self can’t really have any esteem. I sometimes fear that telling small children that they are special may result in later suffering when they discover that the world may not support this. There are innumerable skillful means to uplift people and whatever works is wonderful. Personally, I have found that my best tactic in all cases is love.

Self versus No Self

The Buddhist concept of no self is always a point of contention with Hindus. After a lot of discussion, I concluded that I don’t hold the Buddhist point of view from a philosophical conviction, but more from a personal bhav or attitude. I just don’t see the need or benefit in positing an individual self or delaring, “I am God,” which feels somewhat narcissistic to me. What does it serve? This is my bias, I admit. I am more inclined to the assertion that everything is God.

One of the mahavakyas or great statements of the Upanishads is “Aham Brahmasmi – I am Brahman.” I think of it as a pointer to one’s own divine aspect, one’s buddha nature. The absolute “I” is not anything like the egoic “I.” I don’t think of the ego as a version of Buddha nature, but more as a dark glass through which one’s Buddha nature shines more or less clearly.

Swamiji recently told me of a story he had heard about the Dalai Lama who was asked, “Is there a Self?” The Dalai Lama replied that there was, but not in the way people would understand. Swamiji and I seemed to accept this as the final word on the tedious debate.

I see that Buddhism deals with the path or the psychology of sadhana. The relevant question is “What is a person’s highest experience?” It may be that the highest experience is something which could be expressed as, “I am God”. However, to express in this way publicly seems inflated and has the possibility of leading one down dead end streets or blind alleys. I have no issue with sharing this experience or perception privately. “I am God” is fine if “and so is everyone else” is implied. My own experience is more along these lines, with my increasingly feeling the same as others.

How to Live in Samsara

Since I had always had the eradication of my little self, the selfish “me, me, me” part, as my goal, it was wonderful to be taught this little self held no reality. For years I found fault with my ordinary neurotic self. I judged myself as venal, petty, judgmental, jealous, calculating and above all, self-centered. I wanted things; I had likes and dislikes. I was never satisfied for any length of time.

Imagine the relief of hearing the Buddha’s teaching that samsara or ordinary life is suffering, that it is incapable of providing real satisfaction. That corresponded with my actual experience in life. The first noble truth rang true. The others were equally reassuring – that there was a cause of suffering, an end to suffering and a path to attain this end.

I had heard essentially the same things from Baba, but other factors had made it impossible for me to take them to heart and apply them as I was able to do with the Buddhists. In addition to my readiness, there was something about the whole system that really spoke to me.

The teachings on no self also provided me with a stance that helped me in meditation. The mind was considered to be another sense, like seeing and hearing or tasting. It is the thinking sense. In meditation I knew that seeing and hearing and feeling did not in way detract from the experience of meditation, any more than did the circulation of blood, or my breathing or pulse. They were just ongoing processes of my body. I liked regarding the movements of my ordinary mind in much the same way. It was there, but not important or relevant to what I was doing in meditation. Thinking was just thinking, like smelling, and had no more to say about my real identity than smelling did.

I continued the slow process of learning not to identify with my thoughts. After a long time, this attitude spilled over into my post meditation life. The focus was on Awareness, whether or not I was fully in it or just hovering around it. It was the goal, the reality, the meaning of everything - and the human body and personality were the vehicles through which it expressed its divine purpose.

The teaching on no self did not affect the interactions between teacher and student in the way one might expect. When I shared about an attachment or a problem, Lama Drimed did not come back with, “All that is part of the small self which does not exist,” or anything of the kind. The people in the sangha did not run around constantly uttering platitudes, such as “The self does not exist, man,” or “Remember, the self is unreal.” It was not mentioned, in the same way that one didn’t hear people around Baba saying things to each other about their mind being just a contracted form of consciousness. It was just a background belief.

This is not to say that spiritual platitudes did not abound, as they seem to do in every spiritual group. Just as there had been the annoying refrain, “Baba says…,” so too we had our fill of “Rinpoche says” or “Lama Drimed says.”
While I didn’t hear, “The self is unreal,” I did hear a lot of “It’s impermanent,” which was used to describe any situation that might provide even a ripple of discomfort or was not to one’s taste. Another recurring cultural artifact was something like, “That’s just a concept, dude.”

The microcosm of samsara that is the ashram or the gonpa always entails dealing with humans and their baggage. In the spiritual community, the oneupsmanship, preaching and mind games just have a spiritual flavor. As anyone who has lived for any length of time in such a community knows, it is not at all an escape from “the world.”

The concept of no self does not deny the world. There is this play, this lila, here in relative reality. It is relatively real, just not ultimately real. In rigpa, one experiences what is ultimately real. The experiencer of rigpa sees through the relative reality, as he or she functions in it. It is just a broader and wider scope.

After realization, the focus is always on conduct, or how one lives in the world. Guru Rinpoche gave the definitive directions on how to live when he famously said, “Though my view is as high as the sky, my conduct is as fine as barley flour.” He is saying that conduct in this relative reality really matters. A realizer in this tradition is enjoined to always serve humanity with great compassion from the highest wisdom.