Sport and Spirituality

May 2nd, 2006 Fred McVittie

Abstract:

This review suggests that the concept of spirituality should be considered seriously within sport psychology research and consultancy. Four key areas are addressed: how spirituality may be reconciled into the athlete-centered model; the integration of spirituality and religious observances into mental skills training (MST); the relationship between spirituality and positive psychological states such as flow and peak experiences; and the role of spirituality in counseling. Recent work has acknowledged the importance of spirituality in consultancy work (Ravizza, 2002a) and religious beliefs and rituals for some athletes (Czech & Burke, in press). Despite extensive study in psychology, research of spirituality in sport psychology has been slow to emerge. Some of the reasons for this are discussed and suggestions made in relation to how this important concept can be integrated into research and consultancy work. Future research and theoretical work should focus on both performance enhancement and life-skills development.

WATSON, N. J. & NESTI, M. (2005) The Role of Spitituality is Sport Psychology Consulting: An Analysis adn Integrative Review of Literature. Journal of Applied Sports Psychology, 228 - 239.

Posted in Exercises, Spirituality, Sport, Training | No Comments »

Language and Being: Centred

May 10th, 2006 Fred McVittie

An aim of much artistic, performative practice, as well as spiritual practices which promise ‘enlightenment’, is to go beyond (or before) conceptualisation and fully experience what the senses offer, with minimum filtration and organisation by the rational mind. Artists know this principle in the maxim ‘draw what you see, not what you know’, and in the field of theology, Rahner refers to this as ‘unthematic experience’ and associates it with a non-objective contact with the divine. An important aspect of realising this aim is to fully occupy the space and time that one is in; avoiding distributing one’s consciousness by thinking of the past or the future, or smearing that consciousness across space by imagining oneself to be anywhere else but exactly here, precisely now. The common term for this full occupation of personal space and time is presence, or being centred.

A significant obstacle to overcome in any attempt to be centred is the inevitable decentering of oneself that happens in much language use. We refer to ‘ourselves’, as if those ’selves’ were some object that we possessed and that was in some way outside of us. We nominate ourselves as an object in our sentences, even when we use ‘I’. This usage, and the conception that goes along with it, inevitably places us at a remove from the centre of our own experience. We talk, and think, of ourselves from a position that is eccentric. If our aim is to claim the centre with all of the sensual subjective power that comes with that claim, then we need to watch our language.

The following exercises are highly recommended.

  • Exercise One: Avoid using the following words. I, me, myself.
  • Exercise Two: Shut the fuck up.

Posted in Centre, Enlightenment, Exercises, Performance, Presence, Rahner, Karl, Spirituality, Training | No Comments »

The Ocean and the Womb

June 10th, 2006 Fred McVittie

Many individuals report certain moments in their lives during which they experience a feeling of unbounded unity with all creation and an egoless merging with ‘the divine’. This is typically experienced during moments of highly novel and extreme stimulation (free diving, mountain climbing, etc), or moments of spiritual epiphany. Often this feeling is incorporated into cultural practice, either as part of religious or artistic observance, or less formally within the context of extreme sports, recreational drug use, etc.

This paper will suggest that the prototypical experience for this ‘oneness’ is that of floating in the amniotic sac prior to the partition moment of birth. At that literally pre-conceptual point in our ontogenic history there is no effective separation or ‘individuation’ between oneself and the environment in which that self is lodged. Floating in amniotic fluid we are literally ‘one with everything’. We are reminded of this experience non-conciously during moments of peak experience or religious epiphany when similar feelings of connected ‘oneness’ occur. It will be suggested that this is one of the reasons we tend to conceptualise and articulate these moments metaphorically using liquid metaphors, particularly those invoking the ‘oceanic’.

Posted in Liquid, Metaphor, Spirituality, Unity | No Comments »

Energies of Creativity

July 10th, 2006 Fred McVittie

Highly effective work by coaches Loehr and Schwartz uses the metaphor of energy, and particularly the metaphor of an energy economy, to underpin techniques for the optimisation of performance, particularly in the areas of sport and business. In this work, four different types of energy are identified; physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual. (In this case the term ’spiritual’ is used loosely and may mean ‘intention’ or ‘mission’ or ‘purpose’). This model of different types of energy might also be usefully applied to the creative process, or the performance of creativity.

To engage succesfully/optimally in a creative process the following four energies need to be engaged:

  • Physical - this is a combination of raw physical fitness, in which one is not physically ill, plus having possession of the actual physical skills necessary to carry out a creative act (which includes practical creative skills such as synectics, scamper, triz etc)
  • Emotional - to optimally create one should have enough emotional balance to be able to function, and also be sufficiently ‘in touch’ with one’s emotions to be able to discriminate aesthetically.
  • Mental - one should be in possession of sufficient knowledge about the domain of practice one is operating within, and have knowledge and information about the material and ideas one is using.
  • Spiritual - one should have a reason to do it, even if this reason is a ‘bad’ one such as making money or pleasing people or showing off.

Some more about energies of Creativity

  • More energy does not necessarily mean better art. Aim for enough of each type of energy rather than more than enough.
  • There is a hierarchy of energy (this is important). You have to make sure the physical energy is in place first, then the emotional, then the mental, then the spiritual. If you don’t have the physical energy, nothing happens.

Loehr, J. and Schwartz, T. - The Power of Full Engagement. The Free Press, New York, 2005.

Posted in Energy, Loehr, J. and Schwartz, T., Spirituality, Sport, Training | No Comments »

Spirituality and Actor Training

August 10th, 2006 Fred McVittie

“This paper intends to show that conservatory theatre teachers and acting teachers in specific are using the techniques and ethos of Taoism, Zen and First Nations spirituality in their studios. I will suggest what they are ‘borrowing’ and why they are doing it, whether they are conscious of this borrowing or not.”

FORSYTHE, J. (2004) Spirituality and Actor Training. Journal of Religion and Theatre, 3, 24 - 36.

Posted in Acting, Exercises, Spirituality, Theatre, Training | No Comments »

Enlightenment every Morning

September 20th, 2006 Fred McVittie

Many Zen Buddhist texts, as well as those from widely different metaphysical traditions, stress that enlightenment is not some otherworldly, spiritual state of grace removed from everyday existence, (as if is often framed by the modern enlightenment industries), but rather is a simple realisation of everyday awareness; a ‘waking up’ to the life we are actually living. The Buddha is known as ‘the awakened one’, and this association of enlightenment with the passage from sleep to wakefulness is telling. The most phenomenal and phenomenologically evident example of the illuminated state of consciousness is the everyday act of waking up. In a few moments every day, to the accompaniment of alarm clock ring, birdsong, or traffic noise, each of us breaks the surface of sleep. This transition from ‘not-being’ to being, from unconscious to conscious, from endarkened to enlightened is more ontologically remarkable than the most affecting ’spiritual’ moment can ever be. This moment, together with its complementary transition in which we slip between the folds of consciousness and pass from wakefulness to sleep, is surpassed in its significance only by the birth and death of the organism, and whatever cognitive experience accompanies that process, (which may turn out to be very anticlimactic).

Posted in Buddhism, Enlightenment, Sleep, Spirituality | No Comments »

Spirituality as a Metaphor

September 28th, 2006 Fred McVittie

Spirituality - The application of the substance metaphor to feelings of unity, awe, and selflessness. Since feelings are inherently abstract, and can only be conceptualised through the use of concrete metaphor, such application is typical. In this case, these feelings (which Newberg and D’Aquili refer to as absolute unity of being), are conceptualised as a vaporous or liquid substance; one that moves between evansence and flow, much as a chemical spirit might behave. This substance metaphor is often combined with an anthropomorphic sense of agency applied to that substance such that the spirit is given intention and human-like attributes.

Posted in Agency, D'Aquili, Eugene, Metaphor, Spirituality, Substance | No Comments »

Spirituality (Definition)

October 9th, 2006 Fred McVittie

Spirit - an emotional response corresponding to love, compassion, awe,etc. in which the experience of the emotion is conceptualised as a physical entity. This (metaphorical) entity is usually conceived of as an invisible ether permeating space, or sometimes as space itself, and is often given the attribution of agency or intentionality (God).

Posted in Agency, Emotion, God, Metaphor, Space, Spirituality | No Comments »

Sacred and Profane

May 13th, 2007 Fred McVittie

The percentage of the material world that we can access directly with our senses is extremely small. Our eyes detect only those wavelengths of light which correspond to the visual spectrum, our ears only hear a narrow range of sounds, our hands can only discriminate the shape, size, and texture of objects within our reach, and then only within strict limits. In addition to these physical limitations of the senses, we are also out of direct contact with most of the things we think about and talk about. Not only can we not touch or taste atoms and galaxies, but we will also never have direct experience of such concepts as politics, God, justice, evil, and tomorrow. These familiar ideas have no sensory representatives and make no impact on our experiences, even love and the other emotions are outside the reach of our senses, (although their effects may not be.)

We are in the strange position therefore of having a constant waking awareness that most of what we think about, most of what we would regard as important to us, is not directly accessible and can only be spoken about using metaphors and analogies. So for example, as Samuel Beckett noted, we can only talk about God by talking about him as if he were a man (or a woman, or a light, or a force, etc.) In a sense we are still the prisoners shackled in Plato’s cave watching the dancing shadows on the wall, and whilst we may have full knowledge that these are merely shadows, we do not have the faculties to see the origins of these shadows, and in fact can only even think about our predicament by using terms such as ’seeing’, ‘in a sense’, and ‘full knowledge’. To paraphrase Beckett, we can only talk about knowing as if it was seeing, we can only think about knowledge by understanding it as a space which can be full.

There is, therefore, a vast netherworld of ideas and concepts which are beyond the horizon of our experience, and which we can never access literally. This is not to say that the land beyond this horizon does not exist, or that it is not real; we can be reasonably sure that there are such things as atoms even though no-one has ever seen one (the jury is still out on the existence of God). The reality of those phenomena which are outside sensory range may be confirmed by other means; through social processes of reality construction for example, or the formulation of theories, ideologies, religious beliefs, and cosmologies.

Our attitude toward these concepts varies enormously. To many people, scientific theories which posit the existence of entities outside of experience, whether this be superstrings, black holes, or dark energy, are approached with an attitude we might call ‘profane’ in the sense that, whilst these theories may be difficult or counter-intuitive, they are part of an approach to knowledge which is apparently materialistic and ‘of this world’. When extra-experiential concepts are referred to which are not framed scientifically, particularly religious or ’spiritual’ ideas, the attitude taken toward these concepts is not profane but is ’sacred’. These is a sense of reverence or even supplication toward the ideas. A distinction is felt between these two approaches, the sacred and the profane, in which the sacred attitude is reserved for certain concepts which lie outside of experience but not others. This is inconsistent, and in my opinion emerges from a false distinction between those aspects of the world we can access and those we cannot. If there was a clear correspondence between the profane and the accessible, and between the extrasensory and the spiritual this would at least be consistent, but no such correspondence exists. The sacred and profane do not map onto the literal and the metaphorical. In my opinion, both the literal and the metaphorical, the accessible and the inaccessible, are equally worthy of both sacred and profane regard.

Posted in Conference Abstract, Embodiment, Metaphor, Science, Sense, Spirituality | No Comments »

Anti-Epiphany

May 30th, 2007 Fred McVittie

The shifting internal landscape of metaphors and representations that we might call ‘imagination’ includes not only the extensive covert metaphors underpinning routine language and thought as described by Lakoff et al, but also the heightened and more recognisable metaphors found in poetic flourishes, scientific theories, political models, and theological beliefs and cosmologies. All of these constructs are beyond literal embodiment so are fabricated in our imaginations from the building materials of embodied experience. Some might argue that such entities as God, Quarks, and the Invisible Hand of the Free Market are objectively verifiable facts about the world, but such claims, however valid, does not alter the status of these entities as ultimately imaginary and metaphorical. Whilst these overt or ‘heightened’ metaphors actually have the same ontological status as the more routine metaphors, we tend regard these abstractions as deserving of special treatment. We treat poetic metaphor with an aesthetic appreciation that is largely absent from our experience of routine embodied metaphor. We approach political metaphor with revolutionary zeal or protectionist paranoia, and we treat theological metaphor with the reverence and awe we call ’spirituality’.

This ’spiritualisation’ of the imagination, in which we associate a particular attitude and mental state with a certain set of abstraction, amongst the sea of abstractions that surrounds us, is slightly odd. The oddness is that we spend most of our lives in the close embrace of one metaphor or another, completely immersed in the spirit world of embodied abstractions and yet we choose this particular subset of metaphors to have a ‘religious’ relationship with. It would perhaps be more consistent to develop this special kind of relationship with those parts of experience which are unlike the others, and which are distinguished by their rarity and ontological distinction. What is exceedingly rare as a category of human conceptualisation, and which in some ways makes more sense as a location for religious experience, is the unalloyed engagement with the material world, a direct experience of physical material, accessed via the senses. Given the human predeliction for metaphorical thought, such moments of engagement with the raw material of metaphor, physical experience itself, are inordinately difficult to sustain. Listening without putting a name or an interpretation on what is heard. Seeing and trusting the evidences of one’s eye. Feeling the texture of the paper under one’s fingertips. These things are not the epiphanies of spiritual experience but the anti-epiphanies of embodiment, which are far less commonplace.

It is perhaps significant that some practical philosophical traditions stress the importance of this kind of concrete experience; these moments of anti-epiphany are islands of holy materialism in an ocean of tumbling tumultuous metaphors, gleaming crystals of divine contact in a volatile and wholly spiritual world.

Posted in Cognition, Enlightenment, Metaphor, Science, Spirituality | No Comments »

Spirituality as a Relationship to the Immaterial

May 31st, 2007 Fred McVittie

The signs of spirituality vary in detail from one practice to another, but a general set of symptoms might include:

  • A sense of connection with something ‘larger’ than oneself
  • A sense of the existence of a ‘higher power’
  • (Occasionally) the presence of this ‘higher power’ in quasi-human form
  • The feeling that one’s understanding is somehow ‘deeper’ or conversely that one’s consciousness is ‘higher’
  • A feeling of meaningfulness: that one possesses a satisfactory answer to the fundamental questions of existence, even if one could not put that answer into words (unfortunately)
  • A dissolution of the ego, such that one feels the boundaries between self and world weakening or disappearing completely
  • etc
  • etc

Some, all, or more of these symptoms appear in testimony and creed of all the world’s major religions, as well as in the writings of individual mystics (and eccentrics) from Sri Aurobindo to David Icke. Many of the organised practices which religions offer seem to be designed to create the circumstances whereby such symptoms are created, enhanced, and supported.

An interesting feature of these spiritual feelings is that, whilst they tend to be similar across a wide range of belief systems, the actual object of this spirituality can vary enormously. Religious practices have worshipped the Sun, the Moon, one’s ancestors, the Earth, the Sky, the Ocean, a man (in the abstract, and written large), the Stars, etc. and all of these objects seem to invoke the same set of feelings and states. What this implies is that spirituality is best understood not as related to some particular belief or doctrine, but is a relatively specific state of mind, an altered state of consciousness that can be induced by a number of different means and originating in a number of different objects.

The range of possible objects assigned as catalysts for spiritual engagement is not infinite however, and there do seem to be certain criteria that such objects must fulfill before they can be used to invoke spiritual feelings. The primary and necessary criteria for such objects is that they be ultimately immaterial and unavailable to direct access by the senses. Religious and spiritual totems are all deeply abstract and can only be conceptualised through indirect means, primarily through the use of metaphor. Even such apparently concrete religious objects such as the Earth is not worshipped directly in its materiality but in the mental switch from the profane to the sacred is transformed into an essentialist abstraction. Earth worshippers do not worship the earth but ‘The Earth’, a abstract concept only apprehensible through metaphor. (It is paradoxical that in the case of Earth worship, since ‘The Earth’ is abstract and outside the realm of direct sensory embodiment, one must substitute a metaphor for this abstraction, and this metaphor is usually the actual material Earth itself. In this case, Earth effectively stands in for itself.)

Spirituality can therefore be seen as one possible felt relationship between consciousness and those aspects of cognition which are beyond direct experience. This particular felt relationship consists of a set of characteristic emotional and mental states, some of which are listed above.

Posted in Consciousness, Icke, David, Matter, Spirituality | No Comments »

Induced Spirituality

June 1st, 2007 Fred McVittie

Work carried out by Michael Persinger at Laurentia University (reviewed at http://home.comcast.net/~neardeath/religion/001_pages/04.html) suggests that some of the feelings associated with spirituality: union with a greater power, the presence of a divine being etc, can be induced by the application of Trans-cranial Magnetic Signals (TMS). This work is complemented by that of Andrew Newberg who, working with Buddhist monks and nuns, discovered that the meditative practices they engaged in, and which induced feelings of divine union, seemed to produce particular patterns of activation in the brain similar to those produced by TMS. Whilst this work does not dismiss or disprove the concept of the divine, or erase God from the equation (completely), it does clearly indicate that some of the experiences and feelings which we associate with ’spiritual practice’ are not evidence of the validity of whatever beliefs we may hold, but are part of our cognitive operation.

Posted in Buddhism, Neuroscience, Newberg, Andrew, Persinger, Michael, Spirituality | No Comments »

All that Rises

August 16th, 2007 Fred McVittie

Transcribed from HERE.

There’s a short story called ‘All that rises must converge’, by Flannery O’Conner and the title of this story is taken from Teilhard De Chardin, who was a Jesuit priest and paleontologist, albeit somewhat controversial in both areas. De Chardin was the guy who came up with the ‘Omega Point’ which is the theory that at some point in the future our evolution… it is a model of directed evolution or teleological evolution that we are somehow evolving toward some point at which we become singular and God-like. It is not a popular theory, and not a good theory, but it is interesting. This idea that he had that ‘all that rises must converge’, as well as being a beautiful phrase, but, I think is also quite interesting in relation to some of the ideas to do with the image schema of knowledge to do with our understanding of different types of knowledge, and a map of our epistemology being based on embodied experience, and in many cases that means visual experience, it is to do with visual awareness, visual consciousness of the world. What I have also mentioned is how various entailments of that schema, of that selection of metaphors map onto or organise our understanding of different types of knowledge and the different scales at which knowledge operates at etc. One I have spoken about before is the entailment of height, so when we want to indicate that we have access to greater knowledge we often use a height metaphor because elevated positions, be it the top of hills, in crow’s nests, standing on the shoulders of giants etc are the positions from which we can see more and tend to be metaphors which extend across so the position from which we know more tends to be an elevated position, in the ascendant. I think this idea that De Chardin is putting forward here, this idea that all that rises must converge is a related way of saying this. One imagines oneself rising into the air one also imagines oneself having access to greater and greater swathes of knowledge… I have this image in my mind of lots of people standing in this field where I am standing now and we all rise together, and as we rise our shared vision extends and it is almost as if we are moving together as these various planes in this field triangulate upwards. So the sense in which that all that rises must converge is a (very idiosyncratic) application of this spatial metaphor, and particularly the height entailment of it. That as one ascends one has access to greater knowledge; that the totality of knowledge becomes arrayed out underneath oneself and one becomes the focal point, the unique focal point from which one might view all of knowledge and if everyone was to go through a similar ascension process all would eventually arrive at that focal point, so there we would all be, all rising together, all converging on this unique focal point.

Posted in Chardin, Teilhard de, Evolution, Religion, Spirituality, Up | No Comments »

Atheist Awe

August 27th, 2007 Fred McVittie

Who among us has stood on a beach beside a vast raging ocean and not been affected by the sheer power and majesty of the sight. Or scooping up a handful of sand grains, a tiny sample of an incomprehensibly large quantity, has not been at least a little devastated by the numbers involved. Look up and see the stars and then tell me how big you are. These are just some of the times and places when our experience takes us beyond our selves and puts us in a place where medium sized creatures like us can only stand gobsmacked before the ineffable. Most of us regard these moments as interesting but ultimately insignificant diversions, and have no cause to integrate such feelings into the fabric of ones life. Such experiences that we might call ’sublime’ and the feelings they engender that we might call ‘awe’ or describe as ‘oceanic’, when they are associated with religious practices are embedded into the lives of those practitioners in a way that they are not with the casual, recreational seeker of the sublime. All faiths stress the importance of these feelings as marking knowledge (or the path to knowledge) of the relationship with the divine and this articulated, integrated set of emotional and cognitive responses is firmly ensconced within the writing, cultural practices, and relations of believers. For the atheists among us this is potentially a huge loss. We are as capable of grand emotional intelligence as the most fervent fundamentalist, yet it is hard to find a place within the life of an unbeliever in which such experiences, and the feelings they engender, might function, or indeed what this function might be.

Posted in Atheism, Enlightenment, Feeling, Spirituality | No Comments »

Spirituality and Self-identification

October 28th, 2007 Fred McVittie

Spirituality and self-identification

We embrace ’spirituality’ (both religious and secular) because of our identification with levels of being which exceed our ability to literally understand them. We have the brains of hunter gatherers, tuned by evolution to match the survival needs of medium sized, sexually-reproducing, omnivorous mammals living in an Earth environment of 200,000 years ago. Our conscious cognition, miracle of software engineering which it undoubtedly is, is similarly matched to the demands of that environment and the nature of that body. Having conscious awareness is the great adaptive trick which we, uniquely in all likelihood, developed, and which gave us the advantages that allowed us to spread to successfully.

This is not to say, of course, that the contents of our cognition is limited to that of hunter gatherers. Obviously we can think about pretty much anything, but the mechanisms we use to carry out this thinking: the symbols and grammar of thinking, is largely unchanged. We think modern thoughts with stone-age brains.

One feature of cognition which manifests itself most prominently in consciousness is an awareness of self. Whatever else we might be thinking about it is usual that that thinking is oriented in relation to a self-concept. We not only are conscious of the environment and the sensory impact of that environment on our bodies, we also continually posit our own presence within that environment, even though we may not be aware of the fact. Wherever we go and whatever we do we take our selves along, the consistent figure in a changing landscape (or vice versa). There is a persistent and compelling ‘feeling of being’ at the centre of our experience that we refer to as a ’self’ and which we call ‘I’. The actual nature of this ‘Mind’s I’ as Dennett and Hofstadter called it is not easy to describe, as evidenced by the many descriptions of the I provided by psychology, neuroscience, philosophy, and metaphysics. For most if us it is also experienced not having a single ontology, but as varying widely in scale, location, and consistency.

It seems likely that an early version of the I or self-concept, one which presumably is still available to us today, is one which is associated with and defined by the body and sensorimotor system. For the evolutionary narrative referred to above to make sense, then the adaptive success of a conscious embodied entity would require that such consciousness be initially of the body. The first contents of consciousness must have been of pain and pleasure, and the first self must have laughed and cried and probably little else.

Clearly we are not only conscious in this way now, and our identification with our bodies, whilst hugely significant, is not the whole story. Although the first self was built within the body and mapped onto that body seamlessly, the boundaries of the self no longer begin or end at the surface of the skin or within the confines of the senses. We routinely feel our selves to be ‘inside’ our bodies, looking out through our eyes and driving our limbs like children playing a video game. Sometimes this order is reversed and we feel our bodies are driving the I inside us and we are the unwilling passengers on the body’s careering path through the forests of desire and fear. Wherever we place the control, this dualism of ghost and machine has no basis in neurological fact but is nevertheless a human universal concept. We seem to be what Paul Bloom refers to as ‘natural born dualists’.

Conversely to this ‘inner I’ image, we often feel that our boundaries extend beyond their embodiment in an individual organism. The pain of others is often felt viscerally as our pain, particularly if that other is a close family member. When our team scores the winning goal we ourselves (sic) feel elevated by this triumph. When our country goes to war we (usually) experience it as personal, (and the extent that we do not is the extent to which our leaders have failed to steer our attachments in the direction of the desired conflict). Some individuals even claim to be able to identify with the entirety of the planetary ecosystem, experiencing damage to the Earth as a personal attack which may require an equally personal response, even if that response risks the safety of their own body. This would be an unthinkably contrary act if the old self, built by evolution for the better protection of the individual body, was all we had, but who can say, when pollution and climate change threaten the integrity of the planet, that such an expansive version of the self is wrong.

Whether one identifies one’s self with one’s body, with a smaller location within the body, or with an extended space, formation, or entity outside of the body, the mental tools that we use to conceive of this self remain the same as they have been since consciousness first emerged. As noted above, the basic symbols and grammar of though are those of the body and the senses; the body of a medium-sized mammal moving at medium speed. It is remarkable that with such clunky Newtonian tools we are able to conceive such elaborate and counter-intuitive versions of what a self can be. This is particularly true given that the rules and laws of the world our there with which we might identify often do not behave in ways we are used to.

In many cases, the physics of the world are radically different to the physics of the body, and therefore to the intuitive physics of thought. We may know that the universe is 11, 12, or 23 dimensional but we frame this knowledge in way which are remorselessly 3D. We may know that subatomic particles are ‘really’ probability functions with no specific and determinable location, yet we know this with a mind that is Aristotelean in its understanding of matter as stuff that exists at a single definite place and time.

When we identify ourselves with entities or phenomena which are beyond the ken of our embodiment, as we must when we extend our selves beyond the scale of, say, a mountain, or contract our selves inwards beyond the size of, say, a grain of sand, then that entity, that self, is operating outside the range of human physics and unsurprisingly feels a little weird. If we do attempt such a radical act of self enlargement or self diminution we may feel less solid in our certainties, less concrete in our understanding. We may feel that the world that we have become is less like the hard matter of material experience and more fluid, more flowing and penetrating and turbulent. We may even find that this evanescent feeling of being that I am is less firm than water even, that our self is melted into air and ether and has acquired the volatility of some rare and noble gas. At this point we may use the language of the ethereal to describe our self. Spreading and diffusing like oxygen on the moon, our self is everywhere infinitely expanded, infinitely thin and clear. At this point we have moved beyond gas and become, as mystics might say, spirit.

The phenomenological experience of being human allows, if not demands, that our awareness of our self is often applied to entities which are not simply embodied in the individual human organism. This ability to identify the self with ever larger and more encompassing areas of space and time has proved so interesting and entertaining that numerous practical methods have been developed for the encouragement of these ways of being. These traditionally include meditation, prayer etc, but also now may include technological and applied modern philosophical practices.

Posted in Evolution, Identification, Physics, Self, Spirituality | No Comments »

Open Source Spiritual Cosmology

February 7th, 2008 Fred McVittie

One of the criticisms often levelled against atheists is that they dismiss the idea of a cosmology involving a transcendent reality ‘beyond’ normal existence and day to day waking awareness. In particular, the notion that this ‘beyond’ might be populated by giant gaseous beings with super powers is treated with appropriate disdain. Amongst those who do have such beliefs however, these beliefs are supported and reinforced by individual, social, and institutional practices that are (ideally) coherently integrated into the cosmology such that these practices; prayer, meditation, rituals etc, ‘make sense’. And whilst these practices may bring other benefits or have other effects, to do with individual health and happiness, or with social cohesion for example, these other effects are not ultimately seen as the point of the practices and would likely be considered indulgent or cynical if carried out for these reasons alone.

Recent writing by Sam Harris, the author of ‘The End of Faith’ and ‘Letter to a Christian Nation’, unusually for work which is critical of theism, does acknowledge and even praise what might be referred to as spiritual practices. He recognises that many individuals within all cultures have experience of forms of consciousness which are so distinct from normal waking awareness that they seem to require special attention (as distinct from unusual states of consciousness which are less worthy; drunkenness, coma, drug-induced hallucinatory states for example). Meditation particularly is given considerable airtime as a practice which, even if divorced completely from any supernatural connections, can still be of value. It is worthwhile considering what this value might be however, and what role such practice might serve. Without its holistic relationship to an overarching cosmology meditation can ultimately only be a self-help technique. Useful and transformative undoubtedly, but only at the level of the individual and then only within the narrow framework of individual spiritual knowledge. Meditative practice does not, for example, allow one to experience or connect to secular cosmologies provided by physics, astrophysics, evolutionary biology, etc. To the extent that it connects to rational scientifically valid knowledge at all it is to psychology and neuroscience; and as interesting and research-worthy as this may be it is a long way short of the ambitions of religious contemplatives.

It seems to me therefore that there are two possible courses of action which follow from this. Either we can accept the limitations imposed by a secular account of spiritual practice, that whatever intuitions and feelings may be produced by such practice it does not somehow connect one mystically to the workings of the universe. Alternatively we can construct a new interpretation of meditation experiences such that its intuitions match up to the best that rational science can offer, presumably, given the developing state of scientific endeavour, a non-dogmatic, evolving interpretation, a kind of open-source spiritual cosmology.

Posted in Cosmology, Meditation, Spirituality | No Comments »