Let's get straight to the point: muscles have no memory that controls their activity. Muscle memory (more properly, movement memory) resides in the brain, a product of brain-conditioning, i.e., learning.
Patterns of muscular tension result from that conditioning, acquired by learning and by incidents of injury and/or stress.
Think about it: muscles act in patterns of coordination. How can any one muscle control the activity of other muscles? What would be the mechanism? Willpower? Telepathy? And without the ability of a muscle to control other muscles, how could their activity by synchronized in coordinated movement?
No. Something must centrally control and regulate all muscles to enable coordination, and that something is our nervous systems, the seat of movement memory.
Whether learning to walk or to dance, if you want to change muscle memory, or movement memory, you have to do it by training your nervous system -- and if you're stuck in a tension pattern from an injury, you have to do it by training your nervous system -- by un-learning the dysfunctional pattern and learning a healthy pattern of function, i.e., healthy movement.
MORE:
Completing Your Recovery from an Injury
learning coordination with somatic exercises
Time, Memory, and Eternality
Memory is the confusion of time
(sensation-in-motion or disequilibrium)
with the intuition of the Eternal
(equilibrium) . . . . .
by which we confuse duration
with Eternality . . . . .
so that what we are experiencing now
feels like it is lasting forever
(which is why people need to be reminded of
the Buddhist Doctrine of Impermanence, or "This, too, shall pass.").
The Eternal is our sense of
the asymptotically fine omni-equilibrium
of the Omniverse . . . . .
misinterpreted as Voidness , Emptiness,
or the Unknowable
but which is just indeterminacy.
The "Eternal" is actually the supremely finely vibrating
dynamic equilibrium
of the fields of all co-existing and interpenetrating local ("parallel") universes.
All local universes are moving disequilibrium (or dynamic equilibrium) processes
appearing as material processes/energy fields or time, itself,
arising (condensing or precipitating, like weather) out of the ground of being
(or "cloud of Unknowing")
which is that Omni-versal Equilibrium.
Time and "the Eternal" are a continuum,
"not two".
Form is Emptiness and Emptiness is Form.
RELATED:
(sensation-in-motion or disequilibrium)
with the intuition of the Eternal
(equilibrium) . . . . .
by which we confuse duration
with Eternality . . . . .
so that what we are experiencing now
feels like it is lasting forever
(which is why people need to be reminded of
the Buddhist Doctrine of Impermanence, or "This, too, shall pass.").
The Eternal is our sense of
the asymptotically fine omni-equilibrium
of the Omniverse . . . . .
misinterpreted as Voidness , Emptiness,
or the Unknowable
but which is just indeterminacy.
The "Eternal" is actually the supremely finely vibrating
dynamic equilibrium
of the fields of all co-existing and interpenetrating local ("parallel") universes.
All local universes are moving disequilibrium (or dynamic equilibrium) processes
appearing as material processes/energy fields or time, itself,
arising (condensing or precipitating, like weather) out of the ground of being
(or "cloud of Unknowing")
which is that Omni-versal Equilibrium.
Time and "the Eternal" are a continuum,
"not two".
Form is Emptiness and Emptiness is Form.
RELATED:
There is No "Now" Moment -- There is An All-Present Now-Field
Using More of Your Brain
From a certain perspective, we may regard our sense of body as, "complete" -- meaning that we trust we are perceiving things in a "whole" way -- and believe that we don't have gaps or distortions in our perception.
Even if we think that we do -- or do not -- have gaps or distortions in our perception, the experience of having gaps is quite different from what we may think about it.
Having "gaps" is not experienced as "something", but as a "non:thing"; it's the absence of an experience that we don't know isn't there because it's an absence in us, so gaps are commonly missed.
So, it is said that people see things about us that we do not see in ourselves, and roundabout the other way.
Now, it's interesting that the same condition has a corresponding manifestation in the "motor" body (understanding that the notion of "a sensory" and "a motor" body, as "two" is only a device to get us to look at aspects of ourselves; it's not literal. It's a device. Really, the two are two aspects of a single experience.)
Back to the "motor" body -- the "motor" body has to do with the physical carrying out of our intentions, producing lingering traces of results in the tangible world.
It also shows up in our Nervous System Neural Network Patterning -- or NSNNP, for short. This patterning is the collection, the constellation, the array, the 4-dimensional collection of memories, with tendrils of connection to imagination and dreams -- the whole of which has the cohesiveness we call, "ourselves".
That patterning is visible in the way that person holds, contains, and involuntarily maintains tension. To some degree, our neural network ("NSNNP") is in a state of "SPROINGGG!!!" -- a state of arousal or activation due to the residual effects of intense memories that accumulate in a person. SPROINGGG is the way the person remains perpetually at-the-ready with his or her competencies and/or emotional reactions; SPROINGGG shapes our character and temperament.
Now, our SPROINGGG is a complex pattern or collection of memories imprinted on our NSNNP. Memories act as a Strange Attractor -- a time-warp tendency to gravitate toward certain experiences. So, the complex of memory imprints, the imprint of SPROINGGG on our NSNNP, tends to shape our attention, which attracts us toward or biases us toward certain kinds of experiences.
SPROINGGG is durable; it persists. The NSNNP, when imprinted by SPROINGGG, tends to keep the SPROINGGG experience as a lasting memory, which then functions as a Strange Attractor/Black Hole (SA/BH) which tends to draw us back to certain experiences. Again. And again. And again.
It's imprinted all the way into, not just the cellular (most shallow) level, but the entire neurological network (NSNNP) which is involved in physiological/psychological checks and balances. The whole person is affected, as residual SPROINGGG tension shows up as heightened muscular tension -- muscular hypertension -- the objective manifestation of SPROINGGG state (which we experience subjectively).
What, we may ask at this point, might muscular hypertension have to do with vascular hypertension? Just asking. Just asking. It's a little clue.
SPROINGGG tends to appear as a-symmetrical (off-balance) patterns of tension. That's what makes them disturbing, apart from the fatigue factor SPROINGGG introduces.
Now, just as muscular tensions appear in an asymmetrical way in the physical body, they appear as asymmetrical activation of their nervous system, especially the cerebrum and cerebellum. (which I speak about at more length in "Two Brains Out of Three", another one of these entries).
SPROINGGG states affect the formation of the neural network in the cerebrum, which participates prominently in moment-to-moment voluntary actions throughout the day (fluid memory or RAM), and also the cerebellum, the repository of long-term, often used, and instinctual action patterns, general templates for action, such as, "How To Turn a Steering Wheel". They're general templates for movement. The Hard Drive and The Backup Drive.
Now, what would it be like if one day your computer's hard drive took over the show and started controlling your computer, while your keyboard and mouse responses went unheeded?
Powerless. Out of control. Running Amok.
Hmmmm. Sound familiar? Having a virus does that. So does a glitch in your brain-conditioning.
Back spasm.
Awkward balance.
Perpetual crouch.
Yes. It's true, Your SPROINGGG imprint on your NSNNP (neural network) is at least partly responsible for whatever state of disarray you are in, and also (very likely) for your chronic physical pains and awkward liabilities. Yes, it's true. Your NSNNP integrates both sensations and movement-control patterns (coordination), and SPROINGGG shows up as tight muscles, awkwardness, and in-coordination. Think Jerry Lewis.
Your hard drive is running amok. We must veer away from SAs (Strange Attractors) . However, since SAs are both strange and very attractive, you have three options: (1) attempt to escape whatever SA you are (like Charibdis) nearby (2) go for it -- head straight into the SA/BH, or (3), alternate going into and pulling away from that "nearby SA" until you pop out of it, now newly being in control of your own NSNNP. You are in the command seat and the NSNNP is doing your bidding, using general template patterns resident in your cerebellum and "steering" them with your moment-to-moment awareness and voluntary control.
You see?
But your NSNNP functions somewhat erratically due to your NSNNP being asymmetrically activated.
Zo. You must learn new, better-balanced movement.
And once you learned better-balanced movement, you must let go of that balanced pattern, too, to have freedom -- necessarily so, for you must be able to move freely between activity and rest.
Now, how do we go about imprinting patterns? And isn't that brainwashing?
Ah, if only brainwashing were what the word implies.
No, this is true brainwashing -- self-washing of your NSNNP of residual SPROINGGG.
ahH HAH! I knew it!
It's like this: the first step of activating the neural net is, in little humans, gross motor control, primitive movement. Then, movements get refined as the NSNNP develops more and more internal inter-connections as it integrates the sensations and movement patterns that repeat the most and/or have more intensity. Stimulation patterns show up as network integrations and memory imprints, both healthy and SPROINGGG, accessible, in large measure, through patterns of movement that show up as patterns of sensation (memory).
And so it goes.
The way Out is In. Remember diving into the SA/BH? Well, there are both sensory-motor and memory/imagination techniques. Here's one.
Tha' tha' that's all, for now, folks!
SEE SOMATIC EXERCISES THAT ACTIVATE AND BALANCE BRAIN FUNCTION
Even if we think that we do -- or do not -- have gaps or distortions in our perception, the experience of having gaps is quite different from what we may think about it.
Having "gaps" is not experienced as "something", but as a "non:thing"; it's the absence of an experience that we don't know isn't there because it's an absence in us, so gaps are commonly missed.
So, it is said that people see things about us that we do not see in ourselves, and roundabout the other way.
Now, it's interesting that the same condition has a corresponding manifestation in the "motor" body (understanding that the notion of "a sensory" and "a motor" body, as "two" is only a device to get us to look at aspects of ourselves; it's not literal. It's a device. Really, the two are two aspects of a single experience.)
Back to the "motor" body -- the "motor" body has to do with the physical carrying out of our intentions, producing lingering traces of results in the tangible world.
It also shows up in our Nervous System Neural Network Patterning -- or NSNNP, for short. This patterning is the collection, the constellation, the array, the 4-dimensional collection of memories, with tendrils of connection to imagination and dreams -- the whole of which has the cohesiveness we call, "ourselves".
That patterning is visible in the way that person holds, contains, and involuntarily maintains tension. To some degree, our neural network ("NSNNP") is in a state of "SPROINGGG!!!" -- a state of arousal or activation due to the residual effects of intense memories that accumulate in a person. SPROINGGG is the way the person remains perpetually at-the-ready with his or her competencies and/or emotional reactions; SPROINGGG shapes our character and temperament.
Now, our SPROINGGG is a complex pattern or collection of memories imprinted on our NSNNP. Memories act as a Strange Attractor -- a time-warp tendency to gravitate toward certain experiences. So, the complex of memory imprints, the imprint of SPROINGGG on our NSNNP, tends to shape our attention, which attracts us toward or biases us toward certain kinds of experiences.
SPROINGGG is durable; it persists. The NSNNP, when imprinted by SPROINGGG, tends to keep the SPROINGGG experience as a lasting memory, which then functions as a Strange Attractor/Black Hole (SA/BH) which tends to draw us back to certain experiences. Again. And again. And again.
It's imprinted all the way into, not just the cellular (most shallow) level, but the entire neurological network (NSNNP) which is involved in physiological/psychological checks and balances. The whole person is affected, as residual SPROINGGG tension shows up as heightened muscular tension -- muscular hypertension -- the objective manifestation of SPROINGGG state (which we experience subjectively).
What, we may ask at this point, might muscular hypertension have to do with vascular hypertension? Just asking. Just asking. It's a little clue.
SPROINGGG tends to appear as a-symmetrical (off-balance) patterns of tension. That's what makes them disturbing, apart from the fatigue factor SPROINGGG introduces.
Now, just as muscular tensions appear in an asymmetrical way in the physical body, they appear as asymmetrical activation of their nervous system, especially the cerebrum and cerebellum. (which I speak about at more length in "Two Brains Out of Three", another one of these entries).
SPROINGGG states affect the formation of the neural network in the cerebrum, which participates prominently in moment-to-moment voluntary actions throughout the day (fluid memory or RAM), and also the cerebellum, the repository of long-term, often used, and instinctual action patterns, general templates for action, such as, "How To Turn a Steering Wheel". They're general templates for movement. The Hard Drive and The Backup Drive.
Now, what would it be like if one day your computer's hard drive took over the show and started controlling your computer, while your keyboard and mouse responses went unheeded?
Powerless. Out of control. Running Amok.
Hmmmm. Sound familiar? Having a virus does that. So does a glitch in your brain-conditioning.
Back spasm.
Awkward balance.
Perpetual crouch.
Yes. It's true, Your SPROINGGG imprint on your NSNNP (neural network) is at least partly responsible for whatever state of disarray you are in, and also (very likely) for your chronic physical pains and awkward liabilities. Yes, it's true. Your NSNNP integrates both sensations and movement-control patterns (coordination), and SPROINGGG shows up as tight muscles, awkwardness, and in-coordination. Think Jerry Lewis.
Your hard drive is running amok. We must veer away from SAs (Strange Attractors) . However, since SAs are both strange and very attractive, you have three options: (1) attempt to escape whatever SA you are (like Charibdis) nearby (2) go for it -- head straight into the SA/BH, or (3), alternate going into and pulling away from that "nearby SA" until you pop out of it, now newly being in control of your own NSNNP. You are in the command seat and the NSNNP is doing your bidding, using general template patterns resident in your cerebellum and "steering" them with your moment-to-moment awareness and voluntary control.
You see?
But your NSNNP functions somewhat erratically due to your NSNNP being asymmetrically activated.
Zo. You must learn new, better-balanced movement.
And once you learned better-balanced movement, you must let go of that balanced pattern, too, to have freedom -- necessarily so, for you must be able to move freely between activity and rest.
Now, how do we go about imprinting patterns? And isn't that brainwashing?
Ah, if only brainwashing were what the word implies.
No, this is true brainwashing -- self-washing of your NSNNP of residual SPROINGGG.
ahH HAH! I knew it!
It's like this: the first step of activating the neural net is, in little humans, gross motor control, primitive movement. Then, movements get refined as the NSNNP develops more and more internal inter-connections as it integrates the sensations and movement patterns that repeat the most and/or have more intensity. Stimulation patterns show up as network integrations and memory imprints, both healthy and SPROINGGG, accessible, in large measure, through patterns of movement that show up as patterns of sensation (memory).
And so it goes.
The way Out is In. Remember diving into the SA/BH? Well, there are both sensory-motor and memory/imagination techniques. Here's one.
Tha' tha' that's all, for now, folks!
SEE SOMATIC EXERCISES THAT ACTIVATE AND BALANCE BRAIN FUNCTION
Two Brains out of Three
or
Understanding Your Great-Grandparents
© 2006 Lawrence Gold
The field of brain research has progressed remarkably over the past few decades. Despite that fact, many people remain ignorant of the basics of brain functioning – essential information for those who intend to use their brain beyond middle age. This article is to bring you up to speed on some of the discoveries of brain research and to correlate these discoveries with facets of your own life, so that you can understand, when you have gone wrong, where you have gone wrong and why, not to mention, how, or with whom.
It should be understood, first of all, that your brain has what researchers refer to as “plasticity.” To say that your brain has plasticity is not to say that your brain is made of plastic. While that is true of Barbie and Ken, some politicians and certain news commentators, it is not true of you. No, the term, “plasticity,” refers to your brain’s capacity for reshaping the way it functions – its adaptability.
This is an important point. It means that people have tremendous variability in how they go about doing things and in what kinds of things they can do. You’ve heard the saying, “He couldn’t think and chew gum at the same time.” That’s what I’m talking about. Some people can think and chew gum at the same time, and some people can think and chew more than one kind of gum at the same time. Others can even type.
Which leads us to my secretary – who stands as an important exception to this observation, being a blonde. Actually, I don’t have a secretary. Back to your brain. Anatomists found long ago that the brain of vertebrates (animals with backbones) has three major parts. Perhaps you have seen pictures of them. These are the brain stem, the cerebrum, and the cerebellum.
The brain stem, as the name implies, is associated with plant-like functions – breathing, digestion, sensitivity to light – functions that are ongoing automatically, the so-called autonomic functions. Now, I know that plants don’t have lungs, but they do breathe through the leaves, taking in carbon dioxide and sending out oxygen (the opposite of what animals do); they do take in nourishment through the roots (in a way similar to how our intestines do it), and they do turn toward sources of light. That qualifies. Your brain stem is associated with vegetative functions and your interior life.
Your cerebrum is associated with moment-to-moment, immediate responsiveness to things – emotions, memories, movements, and sensations. It is the brain-center of action in the outside world. In the human, the cerebrum is especially associated with thinking, with learning, and with a sense of humor (which is the recognition of the unexpected results that come from certain actions). The sense of humor, particularly, is a higher brain function, and is lacking in some people. Many attempts have been made at humor transplants, and they have, in general, failed, probably because of the confusion some people have about intended vs. non-intended results. You may be confused about this point, yourself. I’ll clarify, but first I have to confuse you, some more.
The cerebrum, frankly, is what most people think of as the brain. It’s big, it’s gray, and it’s covered with wrinkles, kind of how your great-grandfather seemed to you when you were little. These wrinkles have a special purpose; they increase the surface area of your brain so more brain cells can fit in. These wrinkles are called, “rugae,” by medical scientists. The word, “rugae,” comes from the same word-root as the word, “corrugated,” which Webster’s
Thesaurus defines as
ridged, grooved, furrowed, folded, fluted, roughened, creased, wrinkled, flexed, crinkled, crumpled, puckered
Your brain is puckered, or if you like, corrugated. Your brain isn’t exactly a cardboard box, but you get the idea. (In that case, what does “thinking outside the box” really mean? Where is the box? In your brain??)
Now, your cerebellum is associated with the coordination of muscles and movement. The word, “cerebellum,” means “beautiful brain,” which is odd because whereas the cerebrum is wrinkled (like your great-grandfather), the cerebellum is even more wrinkled (like your great-grandmother). If your cerebrum has about as many wrinkles as your face, your cerebellum has about as many wrinkles as your fingerprints. Where learning is concerned, more wrinkles means more brain cells and more storage capacity for learning. This makes sense, if you think about it.
Where your cerebrum controls actions, your cerebellum contains the know-how to carry them out without your thinking about it. Your cerebrum is always telling your cerebellum what to do and your cerebellum is always coming back with an action, and not always the right one. Think about all your good intentions.
To understand this relationship better, let’s think about typographical errors. When you learn to type, you learn to type words by striking keys in a certain sequence. First, you learn where the letters are on the keyboard, then you learn to strike them in sequence to type the word, “the,” for example (people with dyslexia may prefer the word, “cat”, which refers to something you can actually see. Dyslexics have trouble understanding words about things they can’t see.) Then, the mere intention to type the word, “the,” results in your typing the word, “and”. Why is this? It’s because you weren’t paying enough attention to your typing and since both words contain three letters, involve similar rhythms in typing them, and are used with about the same degree of frequency, your intention to type the word, “the” (sent from your cerebrum to your cerebellum), resulted in your cerebellum causing you to type the word, “and,” which was close, but no cigar.
This explains many of the arguments between your great-grandmother (who sent your great-grandfather out to the corner store for cream) and your great-grandfather (who came back with a newspaper and a cigar). Your great-grandfather had a routine: walk to the corner store for a newspaper and a cigar; your great-grandmother had a different agenda. Somewhere along the way, your great-grandfather got distracted and went into his routine. He didn’t do it on purpose. Maybe it was partly your great-grandmother’s fault for not making sure she had his attention to begin with, maybe it’s just that he was set in his ways. Maybe both.
Anyway, you get my point. The cerebellum has routines and the cerebrum triggers them. Your cerebrum doesn’t (you don’t) usually monitor every detail of every action; it triggers (you trigger) the whole action and then it fine-tunes (you fine-tune) it, so you don’t always make a left turn the same way and sometimes end up in the bushes. Otherwise, your great-grandmother might as well have gone and gotten the cream, herself. Sometimes, the result is a newspaper and a cigar. It probably would have been better if she had gone with him to make sure he didn’t get off track, and the same is true of how to avoid typographical errors. Enough attention is needed when doing a learned action to keep the cerebellum on track.
Now, your great-grandfather learned a lot of routines over his lifetime and your great-grandmother liked some of them (running errands) and put up with others (cigars). The reason she put up with those others is because they were automatic and it was too much trouble to try to change them, even if they were not quite to her liking.
And so, we have described both your great-grandparents’ relationship and how your brain works.
Let me highlight, again, a certain point: Your cerebellum/great-grandfather learned his routines. They didn’t just come out of the ground. Some of those routines suited your great-grandmother; others didn’t, and at a certain point, she just accepted them as inevitable, even though they were just learned behaviors and an old dog can learn new tricks, if he wants to.
The problem with most people is that there is a communication breakdown within their own brain – their intentions don’t always get the desired action and they just accept the breakdown as inevitable. They think they’re getting old, when really they’ve just learned some routines that interfere with other routines. Result – a slowdown, a breakdown, or just lots of wasted effort.
Let’s talk specifics.
There are three basic ways we learn routines: by example, by deliberate cultivation, and by accident.
By Example
When you were a baby, you learned to walk. You learned the basics of standing up and your first steps by yourself and over time you learned styles of movement from your family. You did it by spontaneous imitation. Family members tend to develop similar movement patterns and similar posture by example. This is true to such an extent that people in later life attribute their aches and pains to heredity, rather than recognizing that they learned movement and posture from their family, patterns that may persist for a lifetime.
It should be understood, by the way, that many if not most aches and pains come from muscular tension learned and maintained by the cerebellum as movement routines (routine ways of moving, routine patterns of tension). These routines control posture and movement, and routines that involve too much muscular tension cause pain. In a sense, people hurt themselves.
By Deliberate Cultivation
In general, the movement routines learned by example set the foundation for new movement routines learned by deliberate cultivation. That means, for example, that a person’s way of walking (learned by example from the family) forms the foundation for their way of running and affects their performance in all sports. Dorkiness runs in the family. Snootiness runs in the family. Uptightness runs in the family – to the seventh generation.
Among elite athletes we see cultivation of more efficient movement routines, and this cultivation involves learning and self-correction. Even this kind of cultivation (learning which takes advantage of the brain’s plasticity) often leaves movement routines learned by example intact, which accounts for the unnecessarily high frequency of injuries among athletes and dancers.
Cultivation of movement patterns occurs automatically whenever we do something regularly. Auto mechanics, beauticians and computer-workers acquire movement patterns from their work just as dancers and athletes do from their disciplines. Repetition creates lasting routines, which explain the differing kinds of occupational injuries found in different types of work.
While these cultivated movement patterns have their place, if they get overcultivated, they create problems. There’s a story about Smokey the Bear. Every time his mate said, “I’m feeling hot, tonight, dear,” he went and got his shovel and went to look for a fire to put out.
By Accident
This category of learning accounts for the infirmities of aging so often taken as inevitable – lingering pain, stiffness, general decrepitude.
“By accident” means by accident. You turn an ankle, you have a car accident, you fall skiing, the pain of the injury causes you to tighten up around the painful area. You shift your weight and your movements to avoid pain. Pretty soon, you have a new movement routine.
A subtler form of accidental routine formation is stress. Stress leads to tension. Long-term tension leads to tension as a routine state.
A lifetime of injuries (whether or not bones were broken) and stress leads to a lifetime of accumulated movement routines, one on top of the other. No wonder people become decrepit as they age. Never mind heredity; your history of injuries and stress alone is sufficient to create lingering pains that make you feel old.
Your Body isn’t Broken; Your Brain has Too Many Routines Going On at Once
The pile-up of routines accumulated from learning-by-example, deliberate cultivation, and accidents leads to internal conflicts, experienced mentally as confusion and physically as awkwardness and heaviness of movement (tiredness). Your movements have “typographical errors”.
In Real Estate, there is the concept, “deferred maintenance.” It refers to all the things in a building that have broken down that have just been left unrepaired “until later.” “Deferred maintenance” lowers property value. People have deferred maintenance, too. Too much deferred maintenance, and people look like a structure that’s about to collapse. Think of very, very old people.
You’ve got to catch up on all this deferred maintenance. You’ve got to sort out all those movement routines accumulated from stress and injuries that have already healed and end those that have outlived their usefulness. That’s a job, in itself, but a necessary one.
It’s not really a repair job that you need, however, but debugging.
In computers, debugging refers to removing errors in programming and the junk residue of obsolete data and programs that once were installed and later removed, but left behind fragments that slow computer performance and cause crashes.
Your brain is “bugged,” and you’re feeling it bodily. That’s where you’ve gone wrong (and maybe where you’ve never gone right).
There is a way to debug your brain: unlearn the habitual routines that no longer serve (first step: by becoming specifically aware of them as sensations) and learn more efficient routines (by practice). You’ve got to get your great-grandfather to listen to your great-grandmother.
This kind of statement is problematic in a piece of writing like this because most people haven’t a clue, from personal experience, of what it means. So let’s try a little example.
A sneaky technique for getting your great-grandfather to change his routine is to have your great-grandmother say, “Dear, why don’t you go down to the corner store for a newspaper and a cigar, and while you’re there, pick up some cream.” He’ll be walking to the corner store thinking, “newspaper, cigar, cream … newspaper, cigar, cream.”
Somatic education techniques employ a similar strategy. It’s a truism that we don’t know what we’ve got (or had) until it’s gone, so the terms “habitual routine” and “more efficient action” have little meaning in the words, themselves. Sorry. So think of it this way: take care of your deferred maintenance; debug your brain. Get help from a movement (preferably somatic) educator and you’ll know the difference. Don’t end up like your great-grandparents.
Presenting Somatics
Ladies and Gentlemen:
for your edification and entertainment
may I present
Ever seen a dog dream? The waving paws, the changes of breathing, the barking? See the eyes move back and forth?
They call that REM -- Rapid Eye Movement. It's reliable sign of dreaming. The outer behavior that corresponds to doggie's inner experience.
You're seeing them thinking the words as they sound them.
Sounds like fun, huh?
This strategy works with physical pains, emotional distress, and stupid thinking.
It's a basic strategem of somatics, and if you don't like it, try drugs -- the legal kind, of course. (Oh, no, I would never advocate the use of psychoactive drugs -- you know, the kind that expand your reach beyond conventional thinking! oh, no ... not I.)
Which brings us to another principle, which I call "The Prime Directive of Somatics":
for your edification and entertainment
may I present
somatics
an evolutionary leap
in the understanding of humankind
This kind of stunt happens only every ten thousand years, or so, so listen up. I'm going to lay a metaphor on you.
The early stages of life were little more than separation of inner from outer by a cell membrane, with some chemical exchange and a sense of bouncy motion.
Later came light sensitivity and then, eyes, signifying the entire orientation of the next few hundred million years, or so -- the orientation to what is external. Most of evolutionary history has been taken up with that task, at first in the name of bare survival, then in the name of cultural and social development (beyond bare survival). The external orientation shows up today with the use of make-up (which simulates the facial coloring changes of sexual arousal).
Only recently (in terms that changed the face of Western culture) has internal awareness been developing; in earlier times, individuals rarely developed much subtle internal awareness, being more preoccupied, as they were, with challenging living conditions and social conformity pressures (both internal and external). Individual impulses were contained within and by conformist conditioning.
So, the inner is coming into its own, ready to be correlated with the outer.
"Correlated" -- what does this mean?
It means seeing the correspondences between inner (subjective) experience and outer (objective) behavior or physical changes as two experiences of the same thing. Not "thinking of them" as the same thing, not thinking "We're supposed to think of them as the same thing." Actually experiencing them as the same thing, considered differently.
So, "outer is experienced inwardly" and inward experience shows up as outward behaviors or changes.
Then comes the lie detector test.
Just kidding.
Here's some examples, instead.
Dreams are inward events, right?
Ever seen a dog dream? The waving paws, the changes of breathing, the barking? See the eyes move back and forth?
They call that REM -- Rapid Eye Movement. It's reliable sign of dreaming. The outer behavior that corresponds to doggie's inner experience.
Ever watched someone learn to read? The lip movements?
You're seeing them thinking the words as they sound them.
Ever blushed?
Point made?
So, somatics is based on inner and outer being two aspects of the same thing, not two different things.
First of all, for reasons stated, that alone is an evolutionary leap in the understanding of humankind.
But wait! There's more.
But wait! There's more.
Those primitive life-forms at the dawn of time, those cells floating in a primordial soup, were very simple. They had three functions: eat, excrete, and reproduce. They enjoyed it, but still, that's all they had.
Later down the line, they developed a fashion sense.
My point is that as life evolved, life forms became more intricate, more organized, capable of more and different forms of behavior. Most of these behaviors are what would call "instinctual" -- meaning intrinsic to the organism and, for the most part, constituting all of its behavior -- the behavioral patterns of bugs and worms, a reptile or two, maybe a fish.
The higher we go up the evolutionary staircase (fooled you -- you thought I was going to say, "ladder", didn't you?), and the more complex life forms are, the more complex their behavior gets, and something new appears -- the ability to learn more. Dogs, rats, bankers.
Now, learning is a big deal. It involves self-loading new behaviors and new perceptions into the Automatic Memory Library for use in day to day living. Any life-form can learn by repetitive experiences of something -- but how many life-forms self-load new learning? I ask you.
That's another evolutionary leap.
But wait! There's more!
Sometimes conditions change to such an extent that previous learning no longer closely applies. What do you do, then?
Learning something new on top of old learning is like playing two pieces of music at the same time. Moreover, one generally finds it impossible to turn off Song #1.
Good grooming suggests an alternative. Learn to turn off Song #1, or at least to modulate it.
How? You've got to switch it from "autoplay" to "manual launch". And to do that, you've got to switch yourself to "manual launch" and then manually re-launch Song #1. Now that you know what it feels like to launch Song #1, you also know what it feels like not to launch Song #1 -- and there you are. STOP PLAYING SONG #1!! You think I'm being funny? No. I'm using a metaphor to explain a principle. I'll explain, how, later.
For now, let's assume that you've stopped playing Song #1 and things are quiet enough that you can hear yourself think. You can play Song #2 without interference.
That's it, in principle.
In other language: Wash before you handle food.
What does this have to do with somatics?
I would think that would be obvious. But if it's not, here goes.
Our lives are a gigantic recording library of events and behaviors, input from earliest consciousness, grown into maturity, or something similar to maturity.
Life is constantly playing Song #2, while we continue to play Song #1 (to a greater or lesser degree). By time we get to Song #2, Life expects us to learn Song #3. It's always something.
Life is constantly playing Song #2, while we continue to play Song #1 (to a greater or lesser degree). By time we get to Song #2, Life expects us to learn Song #3. It's always something.
We're on a rolling landslide of cultural norms, so Song #1 is definitely on the playlist, as is Song #2 and, of course, Song #3.
Wouldn't it be nice to be able to bring songs under control, at least some of the time? Maybe clear out a little memory space so we can meet experience afresh, learn the next song more adroitly?
That's one of the basic understandings of somatics: free the grip of old "songs" so that we can dance to the new songs better. In other language: Out with the old, in with the new.
The question of "How" enters the picture.
Here's the basic approach:
Whatever a person is doing "wrong"
(causing problems for self or others) --
have him (her) do it more --
and then less.
The "more" part heightens awareness.
The "less" part activates responsibility.
This strategy works with physical pains, emotional distress, and stupid thinking.
It's a basic strategem of somatics, and if you don't like it, try drugs -- the legal kind, of course. (Oh, no, I would never advocate the use of psychoactive drugs -- you know, the kind that expand your reach beyond conventional thinking! oh, no ... not I.)
Which brings us to another principle, which I call "The Prime Directive of Somatics":
Ya Gotta Wanna.
If you don' wanna, you don'a get so much done.
I heard that, once.
The field of somatics observes certain principles and from those principles develops courses of action that free individuals from old songs so they can learn new ones and maybe a new act or two. Of course, ya gotta wanna.
Here's another way of saying the same thing:
There is No Mind-Body Connection | There Is No Mind-Body Split
Pain Relief through Somatic Education
Practical Action:
Programs
Here's another way of saying the same thing:
There is No Mind-Body Connection | There Is No Mind-Body Split
Pain Relief through Somatic Education
Practical Action:
Programs
Are You Centered? Where is Your Center, Really?
When people refer to being "centered", one wonders what they mean. Immobile? In possession of ones faculties? Calm? This piece clarifies the term. Psychologists -- don't worry.
If you answer the question with from a bodily perspective, “at the center of the trunk" or “at the hara,” I bid you recognize that those answers come from the third-person perspective (“it”), but for the answer to be meaningful, it must jive (correlate) with the first-person (“I”) perspective that is the essence of somatic existence.
What makes the somatic center, The Somatic Center? We would have to answer the question in functional terms, wouldn’t we? and in experiential terms, yes?
So, let’s explore some answers.
We might say that movement originates from the somatic center. Now, in experiental terms, when you lift your arm, do you experience the act emanating from the center of your trunk? Can you keep your trunk relaxed and still lift your arm? Well, mostly. You’ll find that you have to stiffen your spine to some degree, even if you are lying down, and even then your shoulder gets far more contracted than your spine.
So we are left with a bit of a question about the matter. Is our spine our somatic center?
Chiropractors and teachers of The Alexander Technique would argue that movement originates at the neck. Our neck is part of our spine, but hardly the center of our trunk, or hara.
Perhaps we need to revisit our criterion. Perhaps the somatic center is not the place from which movement originates, in that sense. Perhaps it’s the place at which the intention to expand into the world originates.
That still seems a bit abstract. To firm the idea up, a bit, we might look at the opposite motive, to withdraw from involvement with the world. The action of withdrawal from the whole world (which is different from withdrawing from something specific in our environment, which involves walking or running away) generally involves curling in upon ourselves, protecting our soft belly, hiding the hara. It’s wholesale avoidance of everything.
That might seem to give us an answer, but it’s still conceptual rather than experiential.
What are we protecting, when we curl that way, and what are we exposing, when we uncurl?
In first-person terms, we are protecting or exposing our most sensitive feeling-being.
That gives us a bit of a better lead on an answer, but leaves us with a deeper question.
From what place in ourselves are we viewing our most sensitive feeling-being?
Now, don’t go into your thinking mind for the answer. Go into your experience. You’ll notice that you can observe the sensation of your hara, which means you observe it from a from a place outside it. Since we are observing from that place, it must be at least “closer” to the center of our sensitive feeling-being than the thing being observed.
So, where is the center of our most sensitive feeling-being?
At this point, any answer you give that is based upon a bodily, or somatic, frame of reference, falls back to the same question. From what point of view are we viewing that?
Go experiential with that question and start exploring with your attention for the answer, and you discover something disorienting. All “places” from which we view anything can themselves be viewed, or felt, as as “something, somewhere.” The point of view from which you do the viewing, however, is always not there, where the object being viewed, is, but here, where our hereness is, the “hereness” that doesn’t move no matter where or how much we move.
If, at last, you turn your attention to the origin of the viewing, you can’t discover anything there because you are always viewing from “here” and anything you can view is “there.”
Now, where is the somatic center?
OK. I’ll give you a break. Let’s reframe the question, again.
Is awareness of the somatic center the center of somatic awareness? Or is the center of somatic awareness outside soma altogether?
Or to put the question another way, which is more central, our somatic center or the “hereness” from which we view it?
What does it do to your somatic experience to recognize that the center of your experiencing (hereness) is not the same as your somatic center?
Just asking.
Here’s a little clue: Whatever you can experience is not your essential self because it is always “there” and changeable; it is not your “hereness,” which is always here, always you.
That means you can discriminate more clearly between contractions that are so familiar that you identify them as yourself (sensory-motor amnesia) and the free condition of sensory-motor awareness.
Soma can be said to be our functional self because we identify, as self, anything we can control by mere act of will, with no intervening steps. However, soma cannot be said to be our self because somatic sensations are always perceived as “there” to our hereness, observable by ourself.
So, I hate to break it to you, but that means that soma is neither self, nor is it not-self.
What a relief.
© 2006 Lawrence Gold, Sunday, October 8, 2006, 1:28 PM
MORE:
If you answer the question with from a bodily perspective, “at the center of the trunk" or “at the hara,” I bid you recognize that those answers come from the third-person perspective (“it”), but for the answer to be meaningful, it must jive (correlate) with the first-person (“I”) perspective that is the essence of somatic existence.
What makes the somatic center, The Somatic Center? We would have to answer the question in functional terms, wouldn’t we? and in experiential terms, yes?
So, let’s explore some answers.
We might say that movement originates from the somatic center. Now, in experiental terms, when you lift your arm, do you experience the act emanating from the center of your trunk? Can you keep your trunk relaxed and still lift your arm? Well, mostly. You’ll find that you have to stiffen your spine to some degree, even if you are lying down, and even then your shoulder gets far more contracted than your spine.
So we are left with a bit of a question about the matter. Is our spine our somatic center?
Chiropractors and teachers of The Alexander Technique would argue that movement originates at the neck. Our neck is part of our spine, but hardly the center of our trunk, or hara.
Perhaps we need to revisit our criterion. Perhaps the somatic center is not the place from which movement originates, in that sense. Perhaps it’s the place at which the intention to expand into the world originates.
That still seems a bit abstract. To firm the idea up, a bit, we might look at the opposite motive, to withdraw from involvement with the world. The action of withdrawal from the whole world (which is different from withdrawing from something specific in our environment, which involves walking or running away) generally involves curling in upon ourselves, protecting our soft belly, hiding the hara. It’s wholesale avoidance of everything.
That might seem to give us an answer, but it’s still conceptual rather than experiential.
What are we protecting, when we curl that way, and what are we exposing, when we uncurl?
In first-person terms, we are protecting or exposing our most sensitive feeling-being.
That gives us a bit of a better lead on an answer, but leaves us with a deeper question.
From what place in ourselves are we viewing our most sensitive feeling-being?
Now, don’t go into your thinking mind for the answer. Go into your experience. You’ll notice that you can observe the sensation of your hara, which means you observe it from a from a place outside it. Since we are observing from that place, it must be at least “closer” to the center of our sensitive feeling-being than the thing being observed.
So, where is the center of our most sensitive feeling-being?
At this point, any answer you give that is based upon a bodily, or somatic, frame of reference, falls back to the same question. From what point of view are we viewing that?
Go experiential with that question and start exploring with your attention for the answer, and you discover something disorienting. All “places” from which we view anything can themselves be viewed, or felt, as as “something, somewhere.” The point of view from which you do the viewing, however, is always not there, where the object being viewed, is, but here, where our hereness is, the “hereness” that doesn’t move no matter where or how much we move.
If, at last, you turn your attention to the origin of the viewing, you can’t discover anything there because you are always viewing from “here” and anything you can view is “there.”
Now, where is the somatic center?
OK. I’ll give you a break. Let’s reframe the question, again.
Is awareness of the somatic center the center of somatic awareness? Or is the center of somatic awareness outside soma altogether?
Or to put the question another way, which is more central, our somatic center or the “hereness” from which we view it?
What does it do to your somatic experience to recognize that the center of your experiencing (hereness) is not the same as your somatic center?
Just asking.
Here’s a little clue: Whatever you can experience is not your essential self because it is always “there” and changeable; it is not your “hereness,” which is always here, always you.
That means you can discriminate more clearly between contractions that are so familiar that you identify them as yourself (sensory-motor amnesia) and the free condition of sensory-motor awareness.
Soma can be said to be our functional self because we identify, as self, anything we can control by mere act of will, with no intervening steps. However, soma cannot be said to be our self because somatic sensations are always perceived as “there” to our hereness, observable by ourself.
So, I hate to break it to you, but that means that soma is neither self, nor is it not-self.
What a relief.
© 2006 Lawrence Gold, Sunday, October 8, 2006, 1:28 PM
MORE:
There is No "Now" Moment -- There is An All-Present Now-Field
There is No "Now" Moment -- It's All Memory
A common confusion exists about what constitutes, "now" or "nowness". This entry clarifies that confusion to the point of dropping you into your own self-nature, which is only "now" -- not a person, place, thing, state, or process.
"Now" is utterly transcendental and not knowable as a particular "something" that we can "be" in, by decision.
In the Upanishads, the esoteric Hindu scriptures, and elsewhere, reference is made to the three "times" -- past, present, and future. We are said to exist only in the present.
Eastern spiritual and Western psychotherapeutic teachings exhort us to "be here, now" as the gateway to health and sanity.
While there exists a measure of benefit to following that advice, it leaves in place the very habit that leaves us subject to distress and strife.
It's helpful to re-cast the three times in other, familiar language. As we will discover, there are only two times -- past and future -- and what we call the present is actually the past. There is no "now" in which to be, here.
The past is memory. The future is imagination. The so-called present is considered the infinitesimal "edge" across which "future" enters our experience and becomes the past.
Psychology teaches us to "live in the present". The expression is, "Lose your mind and come to your senses." As noble as the intention behind it may be, even that advice leaves us in bondage to memory and habit.
Time is fleeting. No one has identified how infinitesimal the "edge" of the present is. I submit that it does not exist, but only appears to exist because of memory.
Everything Happens Before We Know It
This is not just a figure of speech. It's an observable fact.
There once existed a game show, "Name That Tune." Players competed to guess the tune being played in the minimum number of notes possible. No one guessed before the first note. The tune had to play for a certain number of notes before recognition was possible. My point is that contestants needed a certain span of time to recognize the tune.
There always exists a span of time, after an experience has started, before we can recognize it. Every event happens before we know it. We live, always, in the past.
Test my words.
Sitting as you are, now, turn and look elsewhere -- wait! Before you do, decide to notice how long it takes to see what you are now facing. Now do it.
You notice that you need a certain amount of time before your eyes can focus well enough to see what you are looking at -- and even more time to discern details. See?
Another example: Turn on the radio or some other source of music that someone other than you has programmed. You'll notice that, not only don't you know what's playing, at first; you don't even know the rhythm for some time. The music happens before you know it; you know it only after the fact.
Same with "The News": "news" is a misnomer -- it's old before we hear it. It may be a new development since the last time we heard "news", but if it's not "right now", it's old. Even "breaking" news with live coverage happens before we know it, since we need time to comprehend it, and then our emotions rise before we know it. "The News" ain't new. Interestingly, to give the impression of immediacy, news media commonly print headlines as if stating a general truth in the form of a generality:
and not,
which states the fact as in-the-past, which would be true. Oddly, people never question it. (Don't say, "People understand what is meant." It's a mis-statement, period, a distortion of the truth that people have to correct in their minds or be misled.)
You meditators -- here's one for you.
Some people make an effort to quiet (or silence) the mind in meditation. The vexing thing is that thoughts always seem to be arising and to exist before we can quell them. Ever notice? Thinking happens before we know it. Then, we may try to stomp on thoughts to get the mind quiet or we may try to "listen to the silence between" thoughts. The only problem: these strategies depend on thought (or intention -- same thing, for all intents and purposes. There's an "out" for that. Click here.)
Well, folks, there's no escaping it: Everything happens before we know it, both outside us and inside us, and everything we experience is memory (or perhaps, imagination, or both).
There are some, I know, who attempt to "hedge" on this observation. They say that events happen so recently in the past that they are, for all intents and purposes, in the present. This is a stand for the notion of "free will".
These people forget that their own reactions also happen before they know it -- and their efforts to control their reactions also happen before they know it. They confuse the past with the present, confuse memory with now-ness.
Likewise, people who believe that living in their sensations (or with mindfulness) constitutes "living in the Now".
Earlier, I showed how living in the senses always entails a delay between happening and recognizing. Now, let me drive the point home, some more.
I'll take two approaches that drive toward the same point.
Approach #1: The Limits of Physiology
It's an accepted physiological fact that our senses deliver information along nerves, from sense receptors (retinas of the eyes, inner ears, touch receptors, etc.) to our brain. Nerve impulses travel slower than instantaneously; they take time to reach the brain and time for the brain to process them. There's always a delay between stimulus and sensing the stimulus (never mind "reaction time"). We are always and only sensing the past (but paradoxically, in the present).
Approach #2: The Basis of Perception
Perception always depends upon recognition, and recognition always depends upon memory.
We have, at minimum, a memory of the difference between "something" and "nothing". The sense of "something being there" comes from the act of fixating (or holding) attention someplace. If you don't hold your attention steady in some way, at least momentarily, there's no possibility of experiencing something as "being there"; you don't perceive it. Holding attention steady depends upon a memory of "movement and position", so the ability to distinguish something from nothing depends upon memory.
Everything else follows from that. Recognition of persons, places, things and processes depends upon pre-existing, similar memories. If you don't have a similar memory to be activated by an event, you can't recognize the event; it's incomprehensible to you.
It has been said that the Indians of Central America failed even to see the ships of the approaching Spaniards because they were so unlike anything the Indians had ever seen. For them, this new thing happening (before they knew it) was the same as nothing happening -- and the Spaniards conquered them before they knew it.
Perception depends upon recognition, and recognition always depends upon memory.
In other words, perception of the present depends upon memory of the past.
Let's take a deep breath, here, and then I'll summarize.
It distills down to this:
Our experience of the present, even of the sensory experience that some call, "the now", is actually the experience of memory -- of the impressions of our past. Without memory, we have no experience of the so-called present.
"The Now" is a fabrication.
"Now" is indeterminate -- the experience of infinity, which is not some bizarre insanity, but without form, formation, or definition, most ordinary, but unnoticed.
What does that leave us with?
I said, earlier, that "now" is utterly and entirely transcendental. It is not one or many objects in time; objects-in-time are memories.
More than that, the presumption that we are "living in the now" when we are living in our senses leaves us sensing our memories, since perception depends upon memory -- and thus our sense of "the now" is our sense of "the past" (memories) confronting experience emerging before we know it. Take another moment with that, if you like.
We cannot exclude memory (or our perceptions or our motivations or our insights, either) in order to "live in the now". Motivation depends upon memory, even the memory of a "spiritual" or "psychologically healthy" intention. If you can operate upon it, it's memory operating upon memory, enforcing memory (the past) in the name of "the Now".
Thus, it has been said (for all you Buddhists) that "the more we pursue it, the further we go from it," and "You may polish a tile forever, but it will never become a mirror."
There is one loophole. It's the usual one: "The way Out is Into and Through."
If we recognize memory as "memory", if we recognize the so-called "now" as "memory", we intuit the subtle field of awareness within which memory exists (which is not a thing with a location) Now and Always. We intuit -- by another name -- The Universal Eternal (not a thing -- gotta recognize memory of "The Universal Eternal" as memory -- then the intuition flashes forward).
That recognition levels the playing field. We no longer seek to exclude memories or imagination in order to "live in the Now". We no longer seek, "The Power of Now", since it is always already the case, and never a "power". There is no "other" to be sought as Truth; there is only the simultaneous recognition of All Things and the Formless Field in which they arise as perfectly coincident ("not two"), and there is no way to escape Now. Memory loses its grip, even as it persists, and we fall through.
So, why does it appear that we must make an effort to intuit Now? It's because of entrapment in unconscious, habituated memory. Here's the next step, and it's the opposite direction, perhaps, to the one to which we have become accustomed.
Hee hee hee.
MORE:
"Now" is utterly transcendental and not knowable as a particular "something" that we can "be" in, by decision.
In the Upanishads, the esoteric Hindu scriptures, and elsewhere, reference is made to the three "times" -- past, present, and future. We are said to exist only in the present.
Eastern spiritual and Western psychotherapeutic teachings exhort us to "be here, now" as the gateway to health and sanity.
While there exists a measure of benefit to following that advice, it leaves in place the very habit that leaves us subject to distress and strife.
It's helpful to re-cast the three times in other, familiar language. As we will discover, there are only two times -- past and future -- and what we call the present is actually the past. There is no "now" in which to be, here.
The past is memory. The future is imagination. The so-called present is considered the infinitesimal "edge" across which "future" enters our experience and becomes the past.
Psychology teaches us to "live in the present". The expression is, "Lose your mind and come to your senses." As noble as the intention behind it may be, even that advice leaves us in bondage to memory and habit.
Time is fleeting. No one has identified how infinitesimal the "edge" of the present is. I submit that it does not exist, but only appears to exist because of memory.
Everything Happens Before We Know It
This is not just a figure of speech. It's an observable fact.
There once existed a game show, "Name That Tune." Players competed to guess the tune being played in the minimum number of notes possible. No one guessed before the first note. The tune had to play for a certain number of notes before recognition was possible. My point is that contestants needed a certain span of time to recognize the tune.
There always exists a span of time, after an experience has started, before we can recognize it. Every event happens before we know it. We live, always, in the past.
Test my words.
Sitting as you are, now, turn and look elsewhere -- wait! Before you do, decide to notice how long it takes to see what you are now facing. Now do it.
You notice that you need a certain amount of time before your eyes can focus well enough to see what you are looking at -- and even more time to discern details. See?
Another example: Turn on the radio or some other source of music that someone other than you has programmed. You'll notice that, not only don't you know what's playing, at first; you don't even know the rhythm for some time. The music happens before you know it; you know it only after the fact.
Same with "The News": "news" is a misnomer -- it's old before we hear it. It may be a new development since the last time we heard "news", but if it's not "right now", it's old. Even "breaking" news with live coverage happens before we know it, since we need time to comprehend it, and then our emotions rise before we know it. "The News" ain't new. Interestingly, to give the impression of immediacy, news media commonly print headlines as if stating a general truth in the form of a generality:
GIANTS DEFEAT PATRIOTS
and not,
GIANTS DEFEATED PATRIOTS
You meditators -- here's one for you.
Some people make an effort to quiet (or silence) the mind in meditation. The vexing thing is that thoughts always seem to be arising and to exist before we can quell them. Ever notice? Thinking happens before we know it. Then, we may try to stomp on thoughts to get the mind quiet or we may try to "listen to the silence between" thoughts. The only problem: these strategies depend on thought (or intention -- same thing, for all intents and purposes. There's an "out" for that. Click here.)
Well, folks, there's no escaping it: Everything happens before we know it, both outside us and inside us, and everything we experience is memory (or perhaps, imagination, or both).
There are some, I know, who attempt to "hedge" on this observation. They say that events happen so recently in the past that they are, for all intents and purposes, in the present. This is a stand for the notion of "free will".
These people forget that their own reactions also happen before they know it -- and their efforts to control their reactions also happen before they know it. They confuse the past with the present, confuse memory with now-ness.
Likewise, people who believe that living in their sensations (or with mindfulness) constitutes "living in the Now".
Earlier, I showed how living in the senses always entails a delay between happening and recognizing. Now, let me drive the point home, some more.
I'll take two approaches that drive toward the same point.
Approach #1: The Limits of Physiology
It's an accepted physiological fact that our senses deliver information along nerves, from sense receptors (retinas of the eyes, inner ears, touch receptors, etc.) to our brain. Nerve impulses travel slower than instantaneously; they take time to reach the brain and time for the brain to process them. There's always a delay between stimulus and sensing the stimulus (never mind "reaction time"). We are always and only sensing the past (but paradoxically, in the present).
Approach #2: The Basis of Perception
Perception always depends upon recognition, and recognition always depends upon memory.
We have, at minimum, a memory of the difference between "something" and "nothing". The sense of "something being there" comes from the act of fixating (or holding) attention someplace. If you don't hold your attention steady in some way, at least momentarily, there's no possibility of experiencing something as "being there"; you don't perceive it. Holding attention steady depends upon a memory of "movement and position", so the ability to distinguish something from nothing depends upon memory.
Everything else follows from that. Recognition of persons, places, things and processes depends upon pre-existing, similar memories. If you don't have a similar memory to be activated by an event, you can't recognize the event; it's incomprehensible to you.
It has been said that the Indians of Central America failed even to see the ships of the approaching Spaniards because they were so unlike anything the Indians had ever seen. For them, this new thing happening (before they knew it) was the same as nothing happening -- and the Spaniards conquered them before they knew it.
Perception depends upon recognition, and recognition always depends upon memory.
In other words, perception of the present depends upon memory of the past.
Let's take a deep breath, here, and then I'll summarize.
It distills down to this:
Our experience of the present, even of the sensory experience that some call, "the now", is actually the experience of memory -- of the impressions of our past. Without memory, we have no experience of the so-called present.
"The Now" is a fabrication.
"Now" is indeterminate -- the experience of infinity, which is not some bizarre insanity, but without form, formation, or definition, most ordinary, but unnoticed.
What does that leave us with?
I said, earlier, that "now" is utterly and entirely transcendental. It is not one or many objects in time; objects-in-time are memories.
More than that, the presumption that we are "living in the now" when we are living in our senses leaves us sensing our memories, since perception depends upon memory -- and thus our sense of "the now" is our sense of "the past" (memories) confronting experience emerging before we know it. Take another moment with that, if you like.
We cannot exclude memory (or our perceptions or our motivations or our insights, either) in order to "live in the now". Motivation depends upon memory, even the memory of a "spiritual" or "psychologically healthy" intention. If you can operate upon it, it's memory operating upon memory, enforcing memory (the past) in the name of "the Now".
Thus, it has been said (for all you Buddhists) that "the more we pursue it, the further we go from it," and "You may polish a tile forever, but it will never become a mirror."
There is one loophole. It's the usual one: "The way Out is Into and Through."
If we recognize memory as "memory", if we recognize the so-called "now" as "memory", we intuit the subtle field of awareness within which memory exists (which is not a thing with a location) Now and Always. We intuit -- by another name -- The Universal Eternal (not a thing -- gotta recognize memory of "The Universal Eternal" as memory -- then the intuition flashes forward).
That recognition levels the playing field. We no longer seek to exclude memories or imagination in order to "live in the Now". We no longer seek, "The Power of Now", since it is always already the case, and never a "power". There is no "other" to be sought as Truth; there is only the simultaneous recognition of All Things and the Formless Field in which they arise as perfectly coincident ("not two"), and there is no way to escape Now. Memory loses its grip, even as it persists, and we fall through.
So, why does it appear that we must make an effort to intuit Now? It's because of entrapment in unconscious, habituated memory. Here's the next step, and it's the opposite direction, perhaps, to the one to which we have become accustomed.
Hee hee hee.
MORE:
There is No Mind-Body Connection -- There is No Mind-Body Split
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