Your Mind is Your Predicament

Okay, so here's the next passage that I want to share from the same book....

"The truth probably lies somewhere in between, don't you think?"

Without taking his eyes off the vegetables, Socrates said, "Your "in between' is hell, from my perspective."

Defensively I asked, "Is it just me whose the moron, or do you specialize in working with the spiritually handicapped?"

" You might say that," he smiled, pouring sesame oil into the wok and setting it on the hot plate to warm. "But nearly all of humanity shares your predicament."

"And what is that?"

" I thought I had already explained that," he said patiently. "If you don't get what you want, you suffer; if you get what you don't want, you suffer; even when you get exactly what you want, you still suffer because you can't hold on to it forever. Your mind is your predicament. It wants to be free of change, free of pain, free of the obligation of life and death. But change is a law, and no amount of pretending will alter that reality."

"Socrates, you can really be depressing, you know that? I don't even think I'm hungry anymore. If life is nothing but suffering, then why bother at all?"
"Life is not suffering; it's just that you will suffer it, rather than enjoy it, until you let go of your mind's attchments and just go for the ride freely, no matter what happens."

Socrates dropped the vegetables and tofu into the sizzling wok, stirring. A delicious aroma filled the office as he divided the crisp vegetables onto two places and set them on his old desk, which served as our dining table.

"I think I just got my appetite back," I said.

Socrates laughed, then ate in silence, taking small morsels with his chopsticks. I gobbled the food in about 30 seconds; I guess I was really hungry. While Socrates finished his meal, I asked him, " So what are the positive uses of the mind?"

He looked up from his plate. "There aren't any." With that , he calmly returned to his meal.

"Aren't any! Socrates, that's really crazy. What about the creations of the mind? The books, libraries, arts? What about all the advances of our society that were generated by brilliant minds?"

He grinned, put down his chopsticks, and said, "There aren't any brilliant minds." then he carried the plates to the sink.

"Socrates, stop making these irresponsible statements and explain yourself!"

He emerged from the bathroom, bearing aloft two shining plates. "I'd better redefine some terms for you. 'Mind' is one of those slippery terms like 'love.' The proper definition depends on your state of consciousness. Look at it this way: You have a brain that directs the body, stores information, and plays with that information. We refer to the brain's abstract processes as 'the intellect.' Nowhere have I mentioned mind. The brain and the mind are not the same. The brain is real; the mind isn't.

"'Mind' is an illusory reflection of cerebral fidgeting. It comprises all the random, uncontrolled thoughts that bubble into awareness from the subconscious. Consciousness is not mind; awareness is not mind; attention is not mind. Mind is an obstruction, an aggravation. It is a kind of evolutionary mistake in the human being, a primal weakness in the human experiement. I have no use for the mind."

I sat in silence, breathing slowly. I didn't exactly know what to say. Soon enough, though, the words came. I'm not sure what you're tlaking about, but you sound really sincere."

He just smiled and shrugged.

"Soc," I continued, "do I cut off my head to get rid of my mind?"

Smiling, he said, "That's one cure, but it has undesirable side effects. The brain can be a tool. It can recall phone numbers, solve math problems, or create poetry. In this way, it works for the rest of the body, like a tractor. But when you can't stop thinking of that math problem or phone number, or when troubling thoughts and memories arise without your intent, it's not your brain working, but your mind wandering. Then the mind controls you; then the tractor has run wild."

"I get it."

"To really get it, you must observe yourself to see what I mean. You have an angry thought bubble up and you become angry. It is the same with all of your emotions. They're your kneejerk responses to thoughts you can't control. Your thoughts are like wild monkeys stung by a scorpion."

"Socrates, I think..."

"You think too much!"

"I was just going to tell you that I'm really willing to change. That's one thing about me; I've always been open to change."

"That," said Socrates, "is one of your biggest illusions. You've been willing to change clothes, hairstyles, women, apartments, and jobs. You are all too willing to change anything except yourself, but change you will. Either I help you open your eyes or time will, but time is not always gentle," he said ominously. "Take your choice. But first realize that you're in prison - then we can plot your escape."