The things we're most attached to are our memories. If you can let go of them, then you can let go of anything. But the attachment here is insidious, because it is not strictly voluntary, but more customary, even essential. Because, like computers, we are in many ways defined by speed and memory, the two measurements which simultaneously both limit us and liberate us. What is more basic to our ability to think than language? Memory, of course, even if it's always the past. Language is optional in the proto-consciousness of our lingo-less ancestors. Memory is not.
That's the strict definition of thought, or awareness, but the sentimental attachments are more problematic. That's when we become attached to our memories for purely sentimental reasons, or even worse: craving. Craving has long been identified as the chief cause of suffering in the Buddhist worldview, and that isn't likely to change any time soon. The memories themselves aren't usually the source of craving, of course, but the objects they represent are, insomuch as all memories are memories OF something.
So, here we are, featherless bipeds with a difference: we think like crazy, literally, mostly through the medium of language. In fact, in some people's eyes, thought is indeed identified with language, as if no thought existed prior to language. I'm not sure how to prove it one way or the other, but I take it as an act of faith that that is not the case. Surely the animal kingdom conducts activities that can only be regarded as thought-driven, given the logic and forethought inferable.
Certainly, they have memories, and just as certainly, they have no language. But can we say that they are happier because of their lingo-less existence? Maybe. As always, the sweet spot lies somewhere in the middle. Dogs won't cure cancer, but they may have less of it to begin with. Still, they'll likely never live to the ripe old ages that we now consider normal. So, the best bet is to stop the thought stream periodically with meditation, and use memory as a substitute sometimes, but not as a practice of sentimental craving. Bingo. Sounds like an enlightened practice to me.
No comments:
Post a Comment