"The Passionate Mind Revisited" - Diana & Joel Alsted
Chapter: Time
People are capable of experiencing time in different ways. Our brains are constructed to deal with challenges that involve the future through a complex and sophisticated time-awareness, an example being child-rearing. With language expanding memory and causality, fears, anticipations, and goals all become part of the mix. We can escape the inner feeling of the passing of time through the subjective experience of timelessness—another gift of our evolutionary heritage. So one can use time for becoming, doing, and accomplishing goals—or one can just be, without future orientations. We control or use time through memory and planning; we can also be immersed in whatever is presenting itself, temporarily unaware of past or future, which has a timeless quality that in those moments is agenda-free. Timeless “moments,” which differ in duration, have something in common with the intense, effortless focus of a child at play...
Working toward goals generally involves controlling or being controlled by time, while surrendering to what the moment brings or to the immediacy of interest can move you to a more timeless state. Although “doing” (using time for accomplishment) and simply “being” often correlate with being in time and being timeless, this can be somewhat misleading, as you can be timelessly absorbed in whatever you’re doing or thinking. When you’re totally interested and immersed in whatever you’re doing—which does not preclude thinking or cognition as part of it—then too you can lose the sense of time, and it feels timeless.
Being aware of the flow of time through schedules and obligations is using time for a goal, while timelessness subjectively seems to remove one from feeling that flow. Timelessness more easily allows what’s happening in the living moment to move you. Using time accentuates control, and being timeless accentuates surrender, with life being an interplay between the two poles of trying to control what’s going to happen and just letting it happen. Trying to capture and clarify the difference between the two states is somewhat elusive (as is the flow of time itself)—like trying to find the exact point where the past or future becomes the present. As subjective states they depend more on your relationship to what you’re doing than on what you’re doing itself.
Being in time and being timeless are two subjective states that are sometimes referred to as becoming and being, and also as doing and being—although the differences are not that clear-cut. So I’m using descriptions in trying to contrast being in time and being timeless rather than trying to lock them in as fixed concepts.
These two basic ways of experiencing living in time—being either in time (past, present, and future) or being timeless—each have their place. Since they’re both human psychological states, each with a different internal feel, I describe them as subjective experiences of time to distinguish them from the ongoing, chronological time of the cosmos in which evolution unfolds. Chronological time relentlessly moves us through aging to different relations with ourselves and the world around us....
The experience of being timeless has many attractions, including a cessation of worry and a heightened consciousness of the livingness of the present moment. Many people have had moments of awe and what could be called ecstasy. What ecstasy really means is ex-stasis—being out of time. But timelessness is not necessarily pleasant—not if the now one is “in” or aware of is unpleasant or difficult.
... For most of us, thought is an almost continual companion, keeping us company by silently talking to ourselves as a partially automatic process. It has taken most of us over so that it becomes much of who we think we are. Thinking is often presented as a hindrance to living because much of it is conditioned and habitual, which removes you from the actual livingness of the present. Some thoughts are loops that go ’round and ’round, mechanically repeating out of habit, fear, or unfulfilled desires, spinning in mental circles. In daily life aren’t you usually thinking about what happened, or what you want to happen, or what might happen? To be either preoccupied by the past or projecting into the future, both of which we do so much, is to remove your attention from the immediacy and ongoing movement of what’s happening within or around you. Sometimes this is desirable; sometimes it’s mechanical. This separation, which lives in thought, changes the experience by coming between you and the experience. Techniques abound for quieting thought, which can be so appealing that many people spend a good deal of time practicing them...
...I’m not at all implying that being “in time” is somehow inferior, or that thought is a hindrance to living fully. Our complex relation to time allows us to extend into the past and future through thought—this is what makes us human. Looking at your own life, it’s obvious that learning from the past and having some concept of the future are inherent parts of living. Our brains have evolved to think, analyze, and evaluate the present, past, and future, to remember, foresee, and plan. This has been our big evolutionary advantage—and will be again if we succeed in raising our capabilities to meet current needs. But however important thought is as a practical and creative tool, it can dominate our lives when it’s not useful and inhibit other modes. Seeing when thought is appropriate and when it is not takes awareness.
The sixties motto “Be here now” was a valuable pointer to a different relation to time and way of being. The concept of simply “being” was a revelation in an achievement- and progress-oriented (thus time-bound) culture where simply “being” was considered “wasting time.” Consequently, “being in the now” became for many an enduring prescription of an ideal way to be. Timeless periods are becoming ever more rare and alluring. Mounting fears and real and anticipated crises make timelessness even more attractive—and elusive. This is partly because in its popularized conception, the “now” is defined as being without thought, and ceasing to think about the future is a way to reduce fear.
Timelessness has long been touted by mystics as the gateway to spirituality and to “reality.” Timeless, mystical experiences can reveal mind-altering ways of viewing existence outside normal consensus “reality” that can transform the way you see things afterward. The energy and intensity of these experiences is in a real sense beyond words and memory’s normal grasp. Although such experiences may make one see the world in a new light, they do not give a pure, unfiltered lens into the nature of reality. They get interpreted through the worldview that the mind has, builds, or takes on to assimilate them. People bring their worldview to the experience, later interpreting the experience through it or whatever worldview they come to think better explains it. Christians have Christian mystical experiences; Buddhists have Buddhist ones; Hindus have Hindu ones, etc. Memories and interpretations of mystical experiences are constructions of the human mind and are potentially fallible, like all mental constructions. Since the sixties, in the West the ideal of being timeless all the time, or most of the time, or as much as you can, has become associated with being present to the living moment, what some call “presence.” This ideal came out of worldviews that deem it more spiritual and promote it as the way to be. But even though this ideal has been somewhat secularized, it leaves out core parts of life and so is the source of conflict and confusion.
“Being in the now” as a formula for “the way to be” can also be used as an escape from unpleasantness in one’s own life or the world, or used to justify ignoring future consequences. Under the guise of living in the now, one can bring more disorder and pain into the world. For example, one could carelessly and casually impregnate someone because “now” is really all that matters. Or I can feel superior to you who are caught in the “rat race,” or dull myself with alcohol or drugs since all that counts is pleasure and immediate sensation. None of this has anything to do with aware living in the present, but rather with justifying uncaring, cavalier self-indulgence.
Although techniques that quiet surface thoughts can bring the feeling of timelessness, the question is when and how to use them, and whether they are furthering your life or serving as an avoidance, an escape from life’s frustrations. Only you can answer this. Many people find such techniques a welcome antidote to a stressful life; others eventually find them a burden—one more thing they feel they should do because it’s thought to be cumulatively “good for them.” (We’ll go into the benefits of stilling thought and the double-edged nature of techniques when we discuss meditation.)
Techniques to quiet thought can serve a valuable function in modern life by counteracting some of the great imbalances of a harried work and consumer culture that promotes scheduled lives and endless desires. This culture depends on people being driven to continually accomplish by a puritanical work ethic, which then makes them want to reward themselves for their efforts by buying things.
But however important, an antidote to an imbalance is in itself one-sided too when taken alone or prescribed as an ultimate way to be. Goals, work, achievements, etc., also meet needs and enrich life. The conventional view of “presence” tends to make surrender a tacit value, which is also one-sided for it leaves out or downplays choice, motivation, intentionality, will, and control. Here “being present” is conceived as surrendering to what confronts you, whereas life offers a wide spectrum of possibilities that you can focus attention on depending upon needs, interests, passions—what you want to be present to.
Since being and doing are each important and incomplete alone as a way of life, some kind of balance is needed. An aware life is a balancing act between being in time and being timeless, doing and being, control and surrender. The brain is constructed to think, which is often geared at doing, analyzing, and planning. There is also a non-cognitive, more intuitive part that can bring forth insights from just being that do not originate in thought—that, however, can only come from a being that thinks. The ability to experience timeless moments within the more usual flow of time is an important capacity, especially when combined with insight.
Passion brings a temporary abandonment of the self that lives more in surrender than control, but as mentioned, one can also be abandoned in activities that include thinking. Timelessness and thought are not mutually exclusive, contrary to some prevalent concepts of timelessness as devoid of thought. So the difference between being in thought and being timeless is not as clear-cut as tradition would have it. Thought and time interweave in many ways. Thought can create the subjective flow of time, but thought that’s fully engaged (say in a problem or passion, meaningful project, or intense conversation) can feel timeless.
Timelessness can bring newness, unexpected insights and creativity, and at times peace, joy, a feeling of oneness and being closer to the eternal. This is not nor can it be a constant, steady state. Living in time well incorporates knowledge from the past and the insights, potential wisdom, and passion that can emanate from being timeless. A living awareness rides on the ever-shifting interface between the two subjective states of time and timelessness; a creative life depends on the interplay between them.
Question: I find all the different things I hear about timelessness confusing. Timelessness is supposed to be part of bringing balance into daily life. Regular meditation practices are said to lead eventually to timeless mystical experiences; but others say that enlightenment is just a heightened form of normal awareness. These don’t seem very related to me and leave me wondering.
Answer: There are a variety of ways of being timeless, just as there is of being in time. Ever since the sixties when the “Be here now” ideal was championed by the counterculture, being timeless has been associated with being in the mystical “eternal now.” There is also the implication that such experiences are always blissful, a gateway to a new life, a new world, and so on. In many spiritual groups promises of mystical experiences were dangled like carrots as an ultimate reward for joining in their beliefs and practices. Such experiences have occurred throughout history, but in the sixties they became more available through entheogenic substances. Seductive images of enlightenment and eternity, and even eternal life, led some to believe that a new millennium was just around the corner. Time and experience made people realize that not all mystical experiences are pleasant, and that they are often more about people’s hopes than an absolute indicator of “reality.”
Tantalizing images and promises arouse desire and sidetrack people from the more accessible timeless moments in daily life. Because mystical experiences are emotionally intense and of a different order than usual experience, they are often made superior or more real, while the more available timeless experiences get lost or ignored through being conflated with them. A common “mistake” fostered by the popularized concept of mystical timelessness is prioritizing it, while ignoring or making timeless moments in ordinary life less important.
Mystical experiences touch on different aspects of the universe and humanity and thus are not all identical. The most mentioned type usually involves removal of time and a usual sense of self, with a feeling of being connected to everything, including the source of creation. Contrary to the common idea that mystical experiences are the ultimate in rapture, they are not always even pleasant. This is partially because if you really come to experience that you are part of everything, this cannot exclude the horrors that we humans have done to each other. Interestingly, there are mystical experiences, seldom mentioned, where one feels eternally disconnected.
However special and revelatory mystical experiences are thought to be and at times may be, they rarely come from being sought, and do not give an unbiased touchstone into the nature of reality. We bring to them our worldviews, cultural archetypes, hopes, desires, and fears, and later interpret the experiences through these different lenses.
The Authors' Later Addition: A Commentary on Original Chaper
A worldview reveals its relation to matter, mind, life, and evolution in its conceptions and views of time. This commentary on the Time chapter is key to understanding the worldview represented in this book. It discusses common conceptions about time and thought within prevalent worldviews and presents a different view of time and thought’s relation to it. Because using humanity’s special gift of time-awareness to deal better with future consequences is crucial for protecting the Earth and our survival, we must reexamine worldviews, beliefs, and ideologies that limit our capacity to effectively utilize our awareness of time. We as a species are running out of time. How long we have to rectify problems is uncertain. What appears almost certain is that time is limited.
What we do with our time and how we live in it are related to how we conceptualize it, which we (the authors) view as critical. This is why we have meticulously delved into the relationships among worldviews, thought, awareness, and time. That a shift in awareness is needed about who we are, and how we got where we are, is a major thesis of this book.
People develop or take on a worldview in an attempt to integrate their experiences into a belief system about the way the world works and the individual’s place in it. Time and values are a core part of any worldview, so how you look at time and live in it depends largely on how you view the universe or “reality.” People can be conscious of their worldview but often are not. In either case people usually think they’re seeing “reality” in an unfiltered way as they become identified with whatever worldview they’ve incorporated. Religions, philosophies, political ideologies, and scientific paradigms are examples of worldviews that attempt to incorporate the big-picture meaning of the cosmos and human experience....
...If you’re not conscious of your worldview or are unaware of how it affects your relation to time, your values around time may help reveal it. Examining your attitudes toward time can be like looking through a prism that is able to reveal parts of the worldview you operate from and how it can filter perception and create ideals and agendas for living. Since different worldviews have different views and values around time, people usually value one time mode over another. Eastern worldviews tend to value “being” over “becoming,” and so value the subjective experience of timelessness and surrender to it over experiencing the flow of time.
Both scientific and Western religious worldviews see matter, time, and life on Earth as real. Accomplishments and control over your life are valued and linked with progress, while just being (“doing nothing”) tends to be considered wasting time or something done only on vacation. In monotheistic worldviews the eternal only pertains to the afterlife and to God, who manifested a separate creation, the cosmos, to exist in time. According to Western Judeo-Christian religious worldviews, the purpose of life and time is to serve as a morality test for God to reward or punish humans. In monotheism being spiritual is based on obeying God’s rules, doing good works, and maintaining faith in whichever God the religion worships. In the Islamic worldview the past, present, and future are laid out by God—all is determined by the will of Allah so one surrenders one’s will as one’s own life is laid out too. (The word “Islam” literally means “submission.”)
In many mystical worldviews (both Eastern and Western), the past and future “exist” only as projections of thought with no “real” existence outside the human mind, as it is only the ever-eternal now that truly exists. Here the “now” is viewed not just as “the present” but as a more profound way of “being” that is a gateway to “reality.” Such worldviews value presence and mindfulness—meaning, being present to the timeless “eternal now.” So if one has mystical predilections, the tendency is to value timelessness, which can feel eternal and peaceful, and to identify it with spirituality. In this view using thought, which puts you in the flow of time, is a practical necessity at best, as well as a potential hindrance to being “spiritual.” Therefore, many spiritual practices are techniques for quieting thought and cultivating mindfulness to tame the out-of-control “monkey mind” that endlessly chatters to itself. Here controlling thought can become its own agenda—an agenda ironically created by thought.
The timeless ideal is part of a worldview that considers the basic reality to be the unity of existence, with all “things” totally interconnected. Boundaries and individuation are viewed as merely part of the illusion of separateness, or as a lesser order of reality within the material plane. Here spirit is conceptually separated from matter; although matter may contain spirit, spirit is viewed as being of a different and superior order. Placing spirituality on a “higher” plane than life as we experience it, in a superior, other-worldly dimension, creates (to our minds at least) a false separation between the spiritual and the worldly. Historically this split has been detrimental to life on Earth and is a core part of our crisis.
This spiritual/mundane split shows up in the seemingly non-dual Hindu Advaitist and Buddhist worldviews. In the Advaita worldview reality is essential unity (what we and others call Oneness), and in traditional Buddhism reality is a formless Void with the boundary-less interconnectedness of all the ever-changing forms that the Void somehow gives rise to. By making boundaries and separation less than real, both worldviews that claim to be non-dual actually create a hidden duality between reality and illusion. Both are involved in what might be called a unity fallacy—a fallacy because under the guise of unity duality is hidden between reality (unity) and illusion (multiplicity), mind and matter, formlessness and form, spirit and the world of seemingly separate entities. (See our critique of hidden authoritarianism in the ideology of Oneness in “Oneness, Enlightenment, and the Mystical Experience” in The Guru Papers.)
As a social reformer, Buddha eliminated the Hindu caste system and shifted the focus from Hindu metaphysics to his main agenda of ending or alleviating suffering. His reformation of Hinduism involved undermining its cosmology through creating a worldview that on the surface seems to be its opposite. But like other “protestant” religions, Buddhism harbors many Hindu beliefs in disguised forms (karma, reincarnation, and khandhas are examples). Although Buddhism eliminates Hinduism’s concept of a higher Self by claiming there is no self, both worldviews negate the ego-self, calling it illusory, and both identify it as the main impediment to spirituality...
...Since we’re born with ego, villainizing it is structurally and functionally similar to original sin in Christianity. (This squarely places the basic human problem in intrinsic human nature.) The cosmologies of Hinduism and Buddhism are structurally similar. Hinduism’s split between Oneness and Maya (the illusory Many) is carried over into Buddhism’s split between the undifferentiated Void and illusory separation within the world of interconnected forms. Individuated life, time, and the self are devalued in both Eastern worldviews, along with the so-called “material plane” or “world of forms.”
Given Buddha’s agenda of dethroning Hindu ritual and caste hierarchy while spreading compassion, loving-kindness, and alleviating pain, he was more interested in negating Hindu cosmology than in creating a consistent one to replace it. Thus how forms could arise out of the Void and other such mysteries were left undefined and interest in such irrelevant abstractions discouraged in favor of teaching individuals detachment practices to end their suffering.
Just as villainizing ego is the East’s abstract, more sophisticated version of original sin, karma as a cosmic virtue-measuring device is the East’s more abstract, sophisticated version of an omniscient God’s judgments. Karma and God both observe your every little thought and action and mete out appropriate rewards and punishments, and both prioritize self-renunciation. In both worldviews, these two concepts are tightly linked (God with sin, and karma with villainizing ego), as virtue is measured by how much ego or sin one manages to subtract from one’s original defective state.
For both traditional Hinduism and Buddhism, time only occurs in the illusory world of Maya (Hinduism) or in the multiplicity of ever-changing forms. Being timeless is usually presented as superior to being in “mundane” time. The idea that one could and should be timeless all the time, most of the time, or at least more of the time than one is creates the behavioral paradox of using time to become timeless. Similarly, even the admonition to “Be here now” contains a usually unseen paradox, for it exhorts one to relate to time differently, which of course implies the future. These paradoxes are not merely an amusing play on words. They point to the important fact that whenever one side of an interwoven dynamic is peremptorily emphasized to the exclusion or devaluing of the other side, paradoxes occur. When one consciously values one side of a polarity, the other—the hidden side—displays itself in unacknowledged ways, revealing that the imbalance is untenable. This is why one so often sees these quixotic contradictions: desiring to be desireless, competing to be the best non-competitor, judging judgmentalism, being self-absorbed in trying to be selfless or in how selfless one is, etc. We sometimes call trying to escape the devalued side “the binds of mind,” as these mentally constructed oppositions really cannot be ultimately separated, and the less valued side will somehow express itself.
Worldviews that keep people locked into outmoded beliefs are a drag on social evolution and maturity that we can ill afford. The most significant change in consciousness would involve the way we look at and behave toward ourselves, each other, and the world. For this one’s attitude toward time is crucial. Accordingly, we wish to present a view of time that we think is more in line with the demands of the era. This view of time interweaves with concepts in other chapters.
Eastern worldviews that emphasize unity, and Western ones (including science) that acknowledge the reality of separate individuals, are all incomplete ways of looking at existence, even though each reveals an important aspect of the cosmos (unity and individuation within multiplicity). We have found that a dialectical synthesis bringing these two perspectives together is more representative of the way things actually work. It also resolves false polarities in the field of time.
By “dialectical” we mean that the two sides of a dynamic opposition are embedded within and dependent on each other—like creation and destruction, individuation and merging, control and surrender rather than each element being autonomous. These polarities, including time and timelessness, define and thus are necessary for each other. By “embedded” we mean that seeming opposites (like competition and cooperation) create each other, as each side contains aspects of the other. For example, whether you see competition or cooperation depends on which level of engagement you’re looking at. Teams cooperate at one level to compete better at another. We consider cooperation and competition to be in a dialectical relationship.
Really starting to get to time/timelessness....
For time to “flow” there must be movement, motion, which is change. Within evolution, something in relation to something else must change. There must be separate entities that move in relation to something else in time and space. Change implies diversity as well as the boundaries necessary for individuation and separation. Whether it be evolutionary development or simply a shift in physical location, change involves changing through time and in relationship to something else.
Unity implies an unchanging permanence. In a unity perspective where everything is interconnected, every single part affects everything else (like a mobile). This means that every individual movement is influenced and to some degree determined by the whole. The Buddhist concept of “emptiness” (the Void) as the ultimate reality is terminally static and timeless.
Change in the world of forms has a problem with continuity, for continuity implies some thing (perhaps a self) that is changing. Our sun, which is always changing by burning itself up (as are we) is still recognizable as our sun and will be for millennia. How much permanence is needed in order to acknowledge that permanence does have some reality? The Buddhist conception of change in the world of everyday life is also strangely static, for it seems to assume that what is changing is disconnected from what “it” was. Real change brings newness into the universe and is not merely varied and repeated oscillations. Real change only occurs when interwoven with continuity: In order for change to occur, there must be some “thing” that is changing. We see permanence and change as dialectically embedded. Change is in essence relational—either to itself or to something else.
In denying ultimate reality to permanence and continuity, and thus also change through time, Buddhists are unknowingly and quixotically denying the possibility of real change. This reveals how Buddhists can give reality to an underlying, unchanging Void while preaching that there is nothing but change. The concept of change that they put forth is as empty as their Void.
Where does evolution as a creative force come in? How to account for it if the really real is a timeless Void? And where do human will and intention that can affect the future come in? For those who believe in evolution, a simplistic unity worldview (we are all one) cannot work without casuistic convolutions to try to make it fit scientific facts. Casuistry is a way of protecting beliefs instead of changing them to align with new evidence. (Jesuits used casuistry to justify Catholic dogma by elaborate arguments that do not reach a conclusion, but start with one.)
We humans via evolution have been given the gift of experiencing both time and timelessness. What, if anything, does this say about the nature of existence from which we arise? An assumption we make (enlarged upon in the “Evolution” chapter) is that existence through evolution manufactures parts of itself itself that experience in myriad unique ways the nature of itself that is unimaginable in its totality to any individuated piece. If this has any likelihood, then the ability to experience both time and timelessness is a clue to what existence is about. It is our experience of time coupled with our ability to use symbols, think, and create generalities and abstractions that has given us a history to continually pass on. This eventually brought tools that allowed us to probe deeper into the workings of the universe.
Sometimes timeless moments allow us to touch into the feeling of being part of the source of all of this, which feels and could well be eternal. Other species probably live a more timeless existence than we do. Although some do to an extent take past and future into account, unlike us they do not concern themselves with notions about time itself. As far as we can tell, it takes a creature capable of abstracting with thought, with a history and language, to be able both to live in time and appreciate the timeless moments that occur. Many indigenous peoples live more timelessly (given a plentiful food supply) because their relatively more static cultures are not structured around progress.
If, as we think, spirit and matter, being and becoming, timelessness and time are embedded in each other, then being in time and being timeless are two counterbalancing modes available to human awareness. An awareness of the timeless state is only possible in people because they exist in time, for it too occurs within the flow of time. It takes awareness of the past and future to give a sense of continuity, and thus time, in a given moment. An experience is called timeless to distinguish it from instances when one feels the flow of time more. The word “timeless” only has meaning because it stands out as different in a context of experiencing time’s flow. The inner psychological state of experiencing the flow of time and the experience of being timeless each need the other for contrast to be perceived. The concept of timelessness itself can only arise by comparing the memory of a timeless moment to other more time-bound ones. It takes a being who can remember, project, and think about the past and future to recognize a different state that feels out of time. Both modes are an essential part of living or at least being human. Like thought and non-thought, each is valuable and has an important role and appropriate function in the scheme of things, with neither being superior to the other. They each need the reflection of the other to have meaning and to reflect an aspect of how existence puts itself together.
Either/or thinking has difficulty with a dialectical synthesis that unites polarities because it assumes that one viewpoint must be more real and primary than the other: Seeming opposites are either “this or that,” but not “both and.” Either/or thinking cannot conceptualize two seeming opposites being equally real and fundamentally embedded in each other. The way we’re taught to think makes it difficult to see the embedded nature of much opposition because at first blush the two sides seem so absolutely different and opposite. If you look from a more inclusive level of awareness, you can see that they are not, but it is hard to think it.
Several other powerful factors work in tandem to reinforce the difficulty of holding unity and separation as embedded. For those who may have had a unity or Oneness experience, it often contains the quality of a sacred revelation of hidden cosmic truth. The “eternal now,” which can seem to be all there is when thought quiets, feels timeless and more real, as if one has touched the essence of “reality”—even though one seems to move from one eternal now to the next. Given the nature of either/or thinking, for those who have had this kind of “mystical” insight and others who value unity, it’s difficult not to make unity more important and more real than multiplicity. Even without these values, within the binary paradigm unity appears more encompassing, and in a fragmenting world the dream of unity seems to offer more hope and the possibility of an inbuilt solution. Multiplicity brings to mind the separateness of individuals, which highlights boundaries and isolation rather than their capacity to connect.
Then, too, the actual experiencing of unity is far more rare than experiencing oneself as separate. This naturally makes unity seem more special and profound. Moreover, strong emotions contribute to wanting to believe that separateness is an illusion or more limited reality, including the feeling that since unity seems eternal, the individual as part of this unity can be easily projected as eternal too. This assuages the inbuilt fear of death. The polarization in the world between spirituality and materialism, religion and secularism is partly a product of the prevalence of either/or thinking and worldviews. Two generic and opposing worldviews either place spirit in another realm or make the material world the only reality.
The proposed dialectical perspective can account for the nature of the subjective, internal experiences of time and timelessness. The unity worldview considers “psychological time” to be a product of thought as it plays in memory (the past) and projections (the future). So the thoughtless “now” is assumed to be more real than the inner feel of the flow of time. In our synthetic worldview both viewpoints are partially true: In a sense although the “now” is all that exists, it has within it the products of the past and the seeds of the future. So the past and future are not illusory. “Being” or “is-ness” has within it “becoming,” and becoming at every instant displays within it “what is.” The eternal (“timelessness”) only displays itself in the field of time as each separate moment contains and expresses what some consider the eternal in its own unique way. Another way of saying this is that the “eternal now” only displays itself through the transformations and patterns within time.
Worldviews that present the sense of self (which includes an ego) as a construct totally built by thought conclude that the idea of a self that thinks thoughts is illusory, because there is no thinker (self)—only thought. In this view the brain is merely an automatic thinking machine. It’s no accident that these worldviews (Buddhism being an example) look at spirituality as divesting yourself of ego and of the very idea (thought) that you are or have a self. In viewpoints where time and thought are defined as illusory, preoccupation with the past and future—a future that will be different from the mind’s spinnings—is seen as a major obstacle to being totally present. The living in the “now” ideal usually has an agenda that intimates it would be better to let go of the past and future, or at least not dwell in them, as much as possible.
Here the ideal of letting go of thoughts and the attachments that thought brings also becomes enmeshed in this agenda. Attachments, expectations, desires, fears, etc., are all a function of being in time, so that (theoretically at least) detaching enables one to be timeless. For how can you be attached and timeless? Attachment evoke desires and fears around continuity. Certain worldviews present detachment (or “non-attachment,” the sometimes preferred articulation) as fundamentally different from and better than being attached. It’s true that many past dramas and projections into the future come from thoughts and memories containing fears and desires, regrets and worries. Letting go of the past would be good if all that were meant by this is not getting caught in memory’s mechanical loops, although this is not easy to do. But what is often meant by letting go is “detaching from your story,” which involves detaching from your self, your identity, personality, and ego. The unity worldview maintains that your ego or sense of self is at the core of thought, preventing you from being truly present to “the only reality” there is, the now. Many “spiritual” paths aim at transcending ego, which really means trying to lose the sense of being an individuated self.
Although ego, personality, one’s sense of self can at times be limiting filters that become frozen and inhibit growth, they’re also an inherent part of being human. Without memory there would be little sense of self, but it is memory and the continuity of core aspects of the self that make us human. People who lose memory through brain damage lose the very fabric of their lives. One tragic amnesiac who lives entirely in the now with intelligence, but no memory whatsoever from moment to moment, describes himself as “condemned to live in the hell of the eternal now.” People say, “Be in the now because that’s all there is.” Though the present is all there is, thought too, which generates our sense of the past and the future, only occurs in the present. But as we’ve noted, it’s equally true that the present contains the past and future in very real ways that do not involve thought. A seed containing a future tree is an example of the future being contained in the present. When we look at a star many millions of light-years away, we’re seeing its past (what it looked like in the past), but the light emanating from it enters our eyes in our present. This is but one type of example of how the past is contained in the present. Thunder is heard in the listener’s present after it occurs. So is one not fully in the now when hearing or seeing something from the past? Is that different from an internal memory trace from the past?
In humans too, one’s past and future are not non-existent or merely the product of thought. Though parts of personality and the sense of self change over time, there are embodied and emotional aspects of the self that display a consistency through time. In one way it’s true that everything changes, but what changes has a history that is structured into whatever it becomes and that ongoingly remains part of it. Past experiences actually change the cellular matter that one’s “thinking and emotional body” brings to whatever now one is in. So the past does not live only as disembodied memory; past experiences live in the cells of the brain and body that thinks, remembers, and anticipates. This means that the past in a very real sense lives in and is part of the present you, as these changes occur through time within the unique structure that is and remains you. In short, the past is an integral and deeply meaningful part of the self. (Witnessing the later stages of Alzheimer’s reveals how very true this is.)
The way past and present are intertwined in our very being represents the embedded nature that we humans manifest of permanence and change within the universe. We change, but recognizably so. If you observe a person over time, you see many changes, but through the years there is also something recognizable that makes people who they are—to themselves and to us. This is not only a physical continuity but one of mannerisms, preferences, temperament, and so on. People’s genetic flavor, coupled with environmental input, develops over time to make them uniquely who they are. Their thoughts and worldview play an important role in this: when someone’s worldview dramatically changes, so too do they in important, but not all, ways.
Like the past, the future is also contained in the present. Human will, intention, and desire, which are real factors that impact the future, all aim at a future while occurring in the “now.” This partially constructs living moments, which become the next and then next present “now.” What’s important to see is that human will, intention, and action that aim at the future (in the present) are part of what creates the next present. Though our behavior and beliefs tend to come from social structures em-bedded in the past—and now determining and possibly destroy-ing humanity's future—we are capable of novel behavior to meet truly novel and dangerous challenges. So how we understand the interconnections among present, future, and past can affect what we do or don't do—it really matters.
There are many possible ways of looking at the relation be-tween the flow of time and that exact moment of livingness that we call the present. The present actually has no duration—that is, it instantly appears and disappears—and yet it's experienced as a continually uninterrupted flow. That there was a past and will be a future is necessary to make the present possible. The present contains within it the results, structures, and effects from the past that become part, though not all, of the living moment. The laws and tendencies that influence how the old and the new combine, as well as whether the inbuilt operators (laws, habits, patterns) are fixed or themselves evolving, is an in-teresting field of speculation. The past brings to the present its form, its shape, which comes out of what came before. Thus the present (and by extension the future) contain the products of the past, the old—these tend to be more mechanical and causal. The past creates tendencies, habits, and is necessary for certain events to happen at all. We humans are alive today and have civi-lization only because humans were alive yesterday and a million years ago to create culture and pass it on.
The relation between the past, present, and future, however, is not merely causal. The living moment has within it some-thing else something different from what the past brings. It is a gestalt, a unique configuration that is not merely reducible to the sum of its pasts. The present is the living, eternal miracle. That special and truly miraculous moment of aliveness that is the present is inherently new. Each instant, though often containing great similarities to the one before and after it, is never exactly the same as others. That which is truly new in the present comes as it intertwines with the future. This intermix of past and present with the future becomes the next present moment. So the future cannot be totally predetermined, defined, or pre-dicted merely by the past or by mechanical causality.
Cosmic evolution—that is, evolution in the broadest sense as an operator of change—works through the momentum of time. This is why many who claim the ultimate reality of only the "eternal now" (with past and future mainly being mere illusory products of thought) rarely adequately deal with evolution.
When the past slides into the present it doesn't totally disappear. Parts of it remain fossilized, like the fossils we find of extinct animals in the present. From a geological perspective the present contains the past embedded in matter (rocks), and from a psychological perspective it lives less stably in the memory of conscious individuals, while the present's possibilities (including human influence) construct a future. The past, then, is not only present within the present, it partly influences the future's direction-ality and possibility. Both past and future exist through the continuity of the ongoing present, which is always becoming, instant by instant, something new. This means that past and future, however differ-ent from the actual experience of the living moment, are not illusory but are real in the sense that they are operators within existence that make the living "now" possible.
This forward evolutionary movement, the one-way arrow of time, out of matter/energy created the galactic systems, the planet Earth, and then life, which led to consciousness and human thought. One might ask if the past and future are real, then where do they "exist"? One might as easily ask where the present, which does not seem to have a fixed point, exists. We think, as does much of science, that the best one can do at this time is to place the existence of the flow of time as a fourth dimension in the makeup of the cosmos.
Let's take as a supposition (one we think more likely than alternatives) that the only reason any life and intelligence are in the universe at all is because something in the way the whole of existence works aims toward it. That is to say that a vector toward intelligence is embedded in the structure of how existence puts itself together. In other words, the fact that intelligence evolved is not an accident or coincidence. If this were indeed true, it would mean that there is a teleological factor existent in the movement of time. (Teleology refers to the theory that the universe is not merely a function of mechan-ical causes, but has an element within it that aims or rather is pulled toward a purpose or result.)
This telos would reveal itself in the way the past and present combine to create the future. Insofar as the future is not totally determined, neither is the present that it helps create. The way "teleology" is usually used means going toward an inbuilt, specified, somehow predetermined end or result. This is not what we mean—our conception involves an ever-evolving, embedded, unpredictable movement toward complexity of matter and consciousness that shapes and defines itself as it develops, and inter-acts with everything else. As the present moves seemingly seamlessly from moment to moment, this telos brings to the next present moment a directionality toward complexity. This eventually led to self-reflecting intelligence that can uniquely reflect on the wonder we are all a part of Humans are not the conscious plan of some super-intentional intelligence. Rather existence is a context that through evolu-tion moves to construct undetermined forms that display intelligence.
It is neither scientifically provable nor falsifiable (equally important) to posit (as we are) that self-reflecting intelligence evolved because there is something (telos) within the structure of the way things work that moves in that direction. However, the other alternatives assume that we evolved by chance, or that our occurrence is statistically likely over the long haul (science's two favored but likewise un-falsifiable theories), or that we evolved by the will of some outside agent or creator god. Given the extraordinary complexity that brought forth experiencing, making chance or statistical possibility the reason we're here seems to us far more remote and unlikely. This is especially so given the fact that at higher levels of complexity, new qualities and laws emerge that are not reducible to those of lower levels. How the qualities and laws emerge in essence is still not understood. Having the cause be some super-natural outside agent stretches unlikeliness to its limit.
Likewise, if synchronicity were one of the operators in the way the universe and telos work, it would also function in this interface of the past and future, that is, in the living moment. Synchronicity refers to the simultaneous occurrence of related events whose juxtaposition cannot be explained by causality alone, while a belief that they happen to coincide merely by chance strains credulity. One reason for this strain is that these so-called chance occurrences happen far too often for mere chance to be even a plau-sible, let alone the best explanation. But if a teleological factor were operative in the way things work, this would make synchronistic events more understandable. If events are not only causally manufac-tured but are also pulled or drawn together by another principle based on enhancing (say) connecting and complexity, this could explain those moments that we have all had of connections that seem to defy both causality and coincidence as an explanation.
We've been examining the two subjective ways that people experience time—being in time or being timeless—as non-evaluatively as we can. We'll now look more closely at the seemingly simple but actu-ally convoluted question of what living in the present, the now, actually involves. Living in the "now" has become a very popular idea. The injunction to "Be here now" that was a rallying cry for the counter-culture in the sixties came from the infusion of Eastern mysticism into a society hungry for new values, new experiences, and new meaning in life. It offered an alternative to the "rat race." For an essentially puritanical culture whose deep values warn against "wasting time" and laziness, this was heady stuff that gave permission to "be" instead of always being busy "becoming" which usually translates into trying to become "better," however defined.
What "be here now" means is to be present or be mindful of the present: "Be in the eternal now—for that's all there really is anyway." The past and future live only in your mind, and dwelling there removes you from the potential ecstasy contained in the moment. In short, "be out of time; be timeless." The idea that the past and the future only exist in thought came from the East. So valuing timelessness was taken to mean detaching from the creator of psychological time, which was correctly seen to be thought.
Many popular books and seminars talk about a spiritual awakening that comes from being in total presence. They tell you to quiet thought in order to be "in the now" as much as possible, and they claim to help people do it. Some extol the power of the now to cure all your problems and even the tremendous world crises. This belief is an example of how a worldview can influence ideas about time, thought, and the self, which have a direct influence on behavior—what people want to do, think they should do, try to do, and will or won't do. Quieting thought is said to detach you from your ego, ending the illusion of separation and allowing you to experience the interconnectedness of all things. The assumption is that if people would quiet thought and just be present, this would bring a radical change in consciousness (love and a sense of unity) that would enable us to solve personal and global problems. This is why many purveyors of unity worldviews tout presence as the only real revolution in consciousness, so radical that it will be a panacea for everything.
There are many problems with unity worldviews, including the fact that ego can't get rid of itself because it is integral to individuation. And the exhortation to "be here now," be present or mindful, presumes that there is only one present to be mindful of and one right way to be in it. This is an oddly narrow vision for the wide spectrum of existence and behaviors that one can be present to. Being truly meticulous with the meaning of "being in the now," one sees that everything that is happening is only occurring now. This includes people starving, ice caps melting, thoughts about the past or future—ev-erything external and internal: if it exists it's happening now.
If there's no way not to be in the now, why all the concern? Does this mean that it's possible to not be in the now? If the present is all one can be in anyway, there should be no need to advocate being in it. The very interesting question is, then, what are all the admonitions really about? What is the underlying true concern? A hidden agenda must be involved in preferring some nows over others. People might say that although there's no way not to be in the present, there are many ways of not "being present" to the present. But an often-underlying worldview assumption here is that presence, being in the "now," only occurs when thought is silent and ego is in abeyance, and then the "real" now (devoid of human subjectiv-ity) reveals itself......
chapter excerpt ends
Chapter: Time
People are capable of experiencing time in different ways. Our brains are constructed to deal with challenges that involve the future through a complex and sophisticated time-awareness, an example being child-rearing. With language expanding memory and causality, fears, anticipations, and goals all become part of the mix. We can escape the inner feeling of the passing of time through the subjective experience of timelessness—another gift of our evolutionary heritage. So one can use time for becoming, doing, and accomplishing goals—or one can just be, without future orientations. We control or use time through memory and planning; we can also be immersed in whatever is presenting itself, temporarily unaware of past or future, which has a timeless quality that in those moments is agenda-free. Timeless “moments,” which differ in duration, have something in common with the intense, effortless focus of a child at play...
Working toward goals generally involves controlling or being controlled by time, while surrendering to what the moment brings or to the immediacy of interest can move you to a more timeless state. Although “doing” (using time for accomplishment) and simply “being” often correlate with being in time and being timeless, this can be somewhat misleading, as you can be timelessly absorbed in whatever you’re doing or thinking. When you’re totally interested and immersed in whatever you’re doing—which does not preclude thinking or cognition as part of it—then too you can lose the sense of time, and it feels timeless.
Being aware of the flow of time through schedules and obligations is using time for a goal, while timelessness subjectively seems to remove one from feeling that flow. Timelessness more easily allows what’s happening in the living moment to move you. Using time accentuates control, and being timeless accentuates surrender, with life being an interplay between the two poles of trying to control what’s going to happen and just letting it happen. Trying to capture and clarify the difference between the two states is somewhat elusive (as is the flow of time itself)—like trying to find the exact point where the past or future becomes the present. As subjective states they depend more on your relationship to what you’re doing than on what you’re doing itself.
Being in time and being timeless are two subjective states that are sometimes referred to as becoming and being, and also as doing and being—although the differences are not that clear-cut. So I’m using descriptions in trying to contrast being in time and being timeless rather than trying to lock them in as fixed concepts.
These two basic ways of experiencing living in time—being either in time (past, present, and future) or being timeless—each have their place. Since they’re both human psychological states, each with a different internal feel, I describe them as subjective experiences of time to distinguish them from the ongoing, chronological time of the cosmos in which evolution unfolds. Chronological time relentlessly moves us through aging to different relations with ourselves and the world around us....
The experience of being timeless has many attractions, including a cessation of worry and a heightened consciousness of the livingness of the present moment. Many people have had moments of awe and what could be called ecstasy. What ecstasy really means is ex-stasis—being out of time. But timelessness is not necessarily pleasant—not if the now one is “in” or aware of is unpleasant or difficult.
... For most of us, thought is an almost continual companion, keeping us company by silently talking to ourselves as a partially automatic process. It has taken most of us over so that it becomes much of who we think we are. Thinking is often presented as a hindrance to living because much of it is conditioned and habitual, which removes you from the actual livingness of the present. Some thoughts are loops that go ’round and ’round, mechanically repeating out of habit, fear, or unfulfilled desires, spinning in mental circles. In daily life aren’t you usually thinking about what happened, or what you want to happen, or what might happen? To be either preoccupied by the past or projecting into the future, both of which we do so much, is to remove your attention from the immediacy and ongoing movement of what’s happening within or around you. Sometimes this is desirable; sometimes it’s mechanical. This separation, which lives in thought, changes the experience by coming between you and the experience. Techniques abound for quieting thought, which can be so appealing that many people spend a good deal of time practicing them...
...I’m not at all implying that being “in time” is somehow inferior, or that thought is a hindrance to living fully. Our complex relation to time allows us to extend into the past and future through thought—this is what makes us human. Looking at your own life, it’s obvious that learning from the past and having some concept of the future are inherent parts of living. Our brains have evolved to think, analyze, and evaluate the present, past, and future, to remember, foresee, and plan. This has been our big evolutionary advantage—and will be again if we succeed in raising our capabilities to meet current needs. But however important thought is as a practical and creative tool, it can dominate our lives when it’s not useful and inhibit other modes. Seeing when thought is appropriate and when it is not takes awareness.
The sixties motto “Be here now” was a valuable pointer to a different relation to time and way of being. The concept of simply “being” was a revelation in an achievement- and progress-oriented (thus time-bound) culture where simply “being” was considered “wasting time.” Consequently, “being in the now” became for many an enduring prescription of an ideal way to be. Timeless periods are becoming ever more rare and alluring. Mounting fears and real and anticipated crises make timelessness even more attractive—and elusive. This is partly because in its popularized conception, the “now” is defined as being without thought, and ceasing to think about the future is a way to reduce fear.
Timelessness has long been touted by mystics as the gateway to spirituality and to “reality.” Timeless, mystical experiences can reveal mind-altering ways of viewing existence outside normal consensus “reality” that can transform the way you see things afterward. The energy and intensity of these experiences is in a real sense beyond words and memory’s normal grasp. Although such experiences may make one see the world in a new light, they do not give a pure, unfiltered lens into the nature of reality. They get interpreted through the worldview that the mind has, builds, or takes on to assimilate them. People bring their worldview to the experience, later interpreting the experience through it or whatever worldview they come to think better explains it. Christians have Christian mystical experiences; Buddhists have Buddhist ones; Hindus have Hindu ones, etc. Memories and interpretations of mystical experiences are constructions of the human mind and are potentially fallible, like all mental constructions. Since the sixties, in the West the ideal of being timeless all the time, or most of the time, or as much as you can, has become associated with being present to the living moment, what some call “presence.” This ideal came out of worldviews that deem it more spiritual and promote it as the way to be. But even though this ideal has been somewhat secularized, it leaves out core parts of life and so is the source of conflict and confusion.
“Being in the now” as a formula for “the way to be” can also be used as an escape from unpleasantness in one’s own life or the world, or used to justify ignoring future consequences. Under the guise of living in the now, one can bring more disorder and pain into the world. For example, one could carelessly and casually impregnate someone because “now” is really all that matters. Or I can feel superior to you who are caught in the “rat race,” or dull myself with alcohol or drugs since all that counts is pleasure and immediate sensation. None of this has anything to do with aware living in the present, but rather with justifying uncaring, cavalier self-indulgence.
Although techniques that quiet surface thoughts can bring the feeling of timelessness, the question is when and how to use them, and whether they are furthering your life or serving as an avoidance, an escape from life’s frustrations. Only you can answer this. Many people find such techniques a welcome antidote to a stressful life; others eventually find them a burden—one more thing they feel they should do because it’s thought to be cumulatively “good for them.” (We’ll go into the benefits of stilling thought and the double-edged nature of techniques when we discuss meditation.)
Techniques to quiet thought can serve a valuable function in modern life by counteracting some of the great imbalances of a harried work and consumer culture that promotes scheduled lives and endless desires. This culture depends on people being driven to continually accomplish by a puritanical work ethic, which then makes them want to reward themselves for their efforts by buying things.
But however important, an antidote to an imbalance is in itself one-sided too when taken alone or prescribed as an ultimate way to be. Goals, work, achievements, etc., also meet needs and enrich life. The conventional view of “presence” tends to make surrender a tacit value, which is also one-sided for it leaves out or downplays choice, motivation, intentionality, will, and control. Here “being present” is conceived as surrendering to what confronts you, whereas life offers a wide spectrum of possibilities that you can focus attention on depending upon needs, interests, passions—what you want to be present to.
Since being and doing are each important and incomplete alone as a way of life, some kind of balance is needed. An aware life is a balancing act between being in time and being timeless, doing and being, control and surrender. The brain is constructed to think, which is often geared at doing, analyzing, and planning. There is also a non-cognitive, more intuitive part that can bring forth insights from just being that do not originate in thought—that, however, can only come from a being that thinks. The ability to experience timeless moments within the more usual flow of time is an important capacity, especially when combined with insight.
Passion brings a temporary abandonment of the self that lives more in surrender than control, but as mentioned, one can also be abandoned in activities that include thinking. Timelessness and thought are not mutually exclusive, contrary to some prevalent concepts of timelessness as devoid of thought. So the difference between being in thought and being timeless is not as clear-cut as tradition would have it. Thought and time interweave in many ways. Thought can create the subjective flow of time, but thought that’s fully engaged (say in a problem or passion, meaningful project, or intense conversation) can feel timeless.
Timelessness can bring newness, unexpected insights and creativity, and at times peace, joy, a feeling of oneness and being closer to the eternal. This is not nor can it be a constant, steady state. Living in time well incorporates knowledge from the past and the insights, potential wisdom, and passion that can emanate from being timeless. A living awareness rides on the ever-shifting interface between the two subjective states of time and timelessness; a creative life depends on the interplay between them.
Question: I find all the different things I hear about timelessness confusing. Timelessness is supposed to be part of bringing balance into daily life. Regular meditation practices are said to lead eventually to timeless mystical experiences; but others say that enlightenment is just a heightened form of normal awareness. These don’t seem very related to me and leave me wondering.
Answer: There are a variety of ways of being timeless, just as there is of being in time. Ever since the sixties when the “Be here now” ideal was championed by the counterculture, being timeless has been associated with being in the mystical “eternal now.” There is also the implication that such experiences are always blissful, a gateway to a new life, a new world, and so on. In many spiritual groups promises of mystical experiences were dangled like carrots as an ultimate reward for joining in their beliefs and practices. Such experiences have occurred throughout history, but in the sixties they became more available through entheogenic substances. Seductive images of enlightenment and eternity, and even eternal life, led some to believe that a new millennium was just around the corner. Time and experience made people realize that not all mystical experiences are pleasant, and that they are often more about people’s hopes than an absolute indicator of “reality.”
Tantalizing images and promises arouse desire and sidetrack people from the more accessible timeless moments in daily life. Because mystical experiences are emotionally intense and of a different order than usual experience, they are often made superior or more real, while the more available timeless experiences get lost or ignored through being conflated with them. A common “mistake” fostered by the popularized concept of mystical timelessness is prioritizing it, while ignoring or making timeless moments in ordinary life less important.
Mystical experiences touch on different aspects of the universe and humanity and thus are not all identical. The most mentioned type usually involves removal of time and a usual sense of self, with a feeling of being connected to everything, including the source of creation. Contrary to the common idea that mystical experiences are the ultimate in rapture, they are not always even pleasant. This is partially because if you really come to experience that you are part of everything, this cannot exclude the horrors that we humans have done to each other. Interestingly, there are mystical experiences, seldom mentioned, where one feels eternally disconnected.
However special and revelatory mystical experiences are thought to be and at times may be, they rarely come from being sought, and do not give an unbiased touchstone into the nature of reality. We bring to them our worldviews, cultural archetypes, hopes, desires, and fears, and later interpret the experiences through these different lenses.
The Authors' Later Addition: A Commentary on Original Chaper
A worldview reveals its relation to matter, mind, life, and evolution in its conceptions and views of time. This commentary on the Time chapter is key to understanding the worldview represented in this book. It discusses common conceptions about time and thought within prevalent worldviews and presents a different view of time and thought’s relation to it. Because using humanity’s special gift of time-awareness to deal better with future consequences is crucial for protecting the Earth and our survival, we must reexamine worldviews, beliefs, and ideologies that limit our capacity to effectively utilize our awareness of time. We as a species are running out of time. How long we have to rectify problems is uncertain. What appears almost certain is that time is limited.
What we do with our time and how we live in it are related to how we conceptualize it, which we (the authors) view as critical. This is why we have meticulously delved into the relationships among worldviews, thought, awareness, and time. That a shift in awareness is needed about who we are, and how we got where we are, is a major thesis of this book.
People develop or take on a worldview in an attempt to integrate their experiences into a belief system about the way the world works and the individual’s place in it. Time and values are a core part of any worldview, so how you look at time and live in it depends largely on how you view the universe or “reality.” People can be conscious of their worldview but often are not. In either case people usually think they’re seeing “reality” in an unfiltered way as they become identified with whatever worldview they’ve incorporated. Religions, philosophies, political ideologies, and scientific paradigms are examples of worldviews that attempt to incorporate the big-picture meaning of the cosmos and human experience....
...If you’re not conscious of your worldview or are unaware of how it affects your relation to time, your values around time may help reveal it. Examining your attitudes toward time can be like looking through a prism that is able to reveal parts of the worldview you operate from and how it can filter perception and create ideals and agendas for living. Since different worldviews have different views and values around time, people usually value one time mode over another. Eastern worldviews tend to value “being” over “becoming,” and so value the subjective experience of timelessness and surrender to it over experiencing the flow of time.
Both scientific and Western religious worldviews see matter, time, and life on Earth as real. Accomplishments and control over your life are valued and linked with progress, while just being (“doing nothing”) tends to be considered wasting time or something done only on vacation. In monotheistic worldviews the eternal only pertains to the afterlife and to God, who manifested a separate creation, the cosmos, to exist in time. According to Western Judeo-Christian religious worldviews, the purpose of life and time is to serve as a morality test for God to reward or punish humans. In monotheism being spiritual is based on obeying God’s rules, doing good works, and maintaining faith in whichever God the religion worships. In the Islamic worldview the past, present, and future are laid out by God—all is determined by the will of Allah so one surrenders one’s will as one’s own life is laid out too. (The word “Islam” literally means “submission.”)
In many mystical worldviews (both Eastern and Western), the past and future “exist” only as projections of thought with no “real” existence outside the human mind, as it is only the ever-eternal now that truly exists. Here the “now” is viewed not just as “the present” but as a more profound way of “being” that is a gateway to “reality.” Such worldviews value presence and mindfulness—meaning, being present to the timeless “eternal now.” So if one has mystical predilections, the tendency is to value timelessness, which can feel eternal and peaceful, and to identify it with spirituality. In this view using thought, which puts you in the flow of time, is a practical necessity at best, as well as a potential hindrance to being “spiritual.” Therefore, many spiritual practices are techniques for quieting thought and cultivating mindfulness to tame the out-of-control “monkey mind” that endlessly chatters to itself. Here controlling thought can become its own agenda—an agenda ironically created by thought.
The timeless ideal is part of a worldview that considers the basic reality to be the unity of existence, with all “things” totally interconnected. Boundaries and individuation are viewed as merely part of the illusion of separateness, or as a lesser order of reality within the material plane. Here spirit is conceptually separated from matter; although matter may contain spirit, spirit is viewed as being of a different and superior order. Placing spirituality on a “higher” plane than life as we experience it, in a superior, other-worldly dimension, creates (to our minds at least) a false separation between the spiritual and the worldly. Historically this split has been detrimental to life on Earth and is a core part of our crisis.
This spiritual/mundane split shows up in the seemingly non-dual Hindu Advaitist and Buddhist worldviews. In the Advaita worldview reality is essential unity (what we and others call Oneness), and in traditional Buddhism reality is a formless Void with the boundary-less interconnectedness of all the ever-changing forms that the Void somehow gives rise to. By making boundaries and separation less than real, both worldviews that claim to be non-dual actually create a hidden duality between reality and illusion. Both are involved in what might be called a unity fallacy—a fallacy because under the guise of unity duality is hidden between reality (unity) and illusion (multiplicity), mind and matter, formlessness and form, spirit and the world of seemingly separate entities. (See our critique of hidden authoritarianism in the ideology of Oneness in “Oneness, Enlightenment, and the Mystical Experience” in The Guru Papers.)
As a social reformer, Buddha eliminated the Hindu caste system and shifted the focus from Hindu metaphysics to his main agenda of ending or alleviating suffering. His reformation of Hinduism involved undermining its cosmology through creating a worldview that on the surface seems to be its opposite. But like other “protestant” religions, Buddhism harbors many Hindu beliefs in disguised forms (karma, reincarnation, and khandhas are examples). Although Buddhism eliminates Hinduism’s concept of a higher Self by claiming there is no self, both worldviews negate the ego-self, calling it illusory, and both identify it as the main impediment to spirituality...
...Since we’re born with ego, villainizing it is structurally and functionally similar to original sin in Christianity. (This squarely places the basic human problem in intrinsic human nature.) The cosmologies of Hinduism and Buddhism are structurally similar. Hinduism’s split between Oneness and Maya (the illusory Many) is carried over into Buddhism’s split between the undifferentiated Void and illusory separation within the world of interconnected forms. Individuated life, time, and the self are devalued in both Eastern worldviews, along with the so-called “material plane” or “world of forms.”
Given Buddha’s agenda of dethroning Hindu ritual and caste hierarchy while spreading compassion, loving-kindness, and alleviating pain, he was more interested in negating Hindu cosmology than in creating a consistent one to replace it. Thus how forms could arise out of the Void and other such mysteries were left undefined and interest in such irrelevant abstractions discouraged in favor of teaching individuals detachment practices to end their suffering.
Just as villainizing ego is the East’s abstract, more sophisticated version of original sin, karma as a cosmic virtue-measuring device is the East’s more abstract, sophisticated version of an omniscient God’s judgments. Karma and God both observe your every little thought and action and mete out appropriate rewards and punishments, and both prioritize self-renunciation. In both worldviews, these two concepts are tightly linked (God with sin, and karma with villainizing ego), as virtue is measured by how much ego or sin one manages to subtract from one’s original defective state.
For both traditional Hinduism and Buddhism, time only occurs in the illusory world of Maya (Hinduism) or in the multiplicity of ever-changing forms. Being timeless is usually presented as superior to being in “mundane” time. The idea that one could and should be timeless all the time, most of the time, or at least more of the time than one is creates the behavioral paradox of using time to become timeless. Similarly, even the admonition to “Be here now” contains a usually unseen paradox, for it exhorts one to relate to time differently, which of course implies the future. These paradoxes are not merely an amusing play on words. They point to the important fact that whenever one side of an interwoven dynamic is peremptorily emphasized to the exclusion or devaluing of the other side, paradoxes occur. When one consciously values one side of a polarity, the other—the hidden side—displays itself in unacknowledged ways, revealing that the imbalance is untenable. This is why one so often sees these quixotic contradictions: desiring to be desireless, competing to be the best non-competitor, judging judgmentalism, being self-absorbed in trying to be selfless or in how selfless one is, etc. We sometimes call trying to escape the devalued side “the binds of mind,” as these mentally constructed oppositions really cannot be ultimately separated, and the less valued side will somehow express itself.
Worldviews that keep people locked into outmoded beliefs are a drag on social evolution and maturity that we can ill afford. The most significant change in consciousness would involve the way we look at and behave toward ourselves, each other, and the world. For this one’s attitude toward time is crucial. Accordingly, we wish to present a view of time that we think is more in line with the demands of the era. This view of time interweaves with concepts in other chapters.
Eastern worldviews that emphasize unity, and Western ones (including science) that acknowledge the reality of separate individuals, are all incomplete ways of looking at existence, even though each reveals an important aspect of the cosmos (unity and individuation within multiplicity). We have found that a dialectical synthesis bringing these two perspectives together is more representative of the way things actually work. It also resolves false polarities in the field of time.
By “dialectical” we mean that the two sides of a dynamic opposition are embedded within and dependent on each other—like creation and destruction, individuation and merging, control and surrender rather than each element being autonomous. These polarities, including time and timelessness, define and thus are necessary for each other. By “embedded” we mean that seeming opposites (like competition and cooperation) create each other, as each side contains aspects of the other. For example, whether you see competition or cooperation depends on which level of engagement you’re looking at. Teams cooperate at one level to compete better at another. We consider cooperation and competition to be in a dialectical relationship.
Really starting to get to time/timelessness....
For time to “flow” there must be movement, motion, which is change. Within evolution, something in relation to something else must change. There must be separate entities that move in relation to something else in time and space. Change implies diversity as well as the boundaries necessary for individuation and separation. Whether it be evolutionary development or simply a shift in physical location, change involves changing through time and in relationship to something else.
Unity implies an unchanging permanence. In a unity perspective where everything is interconnected, every single part affects everything else (like a mobile). This means that every individual movement is influenced and to some degree determined by the whole. The Buddhist concept of “emptiness” (the Void) as the ultimate reality is terminally static and timeless.
Change in the world of forms has a problem with continuity, for continuity implies some thing (perhaps a self) that is changing. Our sun, which is always changing by burning itself up (as are we) is still recognizable as our sun and will be for millennia. How much permanence is needed in order to acknowledge that permanence does have some reality? The Buddhist conception of change in the world of everyday life is also strangely static, for it seems to assume that what is changing is disconnected from what “it” was. Real change brings newness into the universe and is not merely varied and repeated oscillations. Real change only occurs when interwoven with continuity: In order for change to occur, there must be some “thing” that is changing. We see permanence and change as dialectically embedded. Change is in essence relational—either to itself or to something else.
In denying ultimate reality to permanence and continuity, and thus also change through time, Buddhists are unknowingly and quixotically denying the possibility of real change. This reveals how Buddhists can give reality to an underlying, unchanging Void while preaching that there is nothing but change. The concept of change that they put forth is as empty as their Void.
Where does evolution as a creative force come in? How to account for it if the really real is a timeless Void? And where do human will and intention that can affect the future come in? For those who believe in evolution, a simplistic unity worldview (we are all one) cannot work without casuistic convolutions to try to make it fit scientific facts. Casuistry is a way of protecting beliefs instead of changing them to align with new evidence. (Jesuits used casuistry to justify Catholic dogma by elaborate arguments that do not reach a conclusion, but start with one.)
We humans via evolution have been given the gift of experiencing both time and timelessness. What, if anything, does this say about the nature of existence from which we arise? An assumption we make (enlarged upon in the “Evolution” chapter) is that existence through evolution manufactures parts of itself itself that experience in myriad unique ways the nature of itself that is unimaginable in its totality to any individuated piece. If this has any likelihood, then the ability to experience both time and timelessness is a clue to what existence is about. It is our experience of time coupled with our ability to use symbols, think, and create generalities and abstractions that has given us a history to continually pass on. This eventually brought tools that allowed us to probe deeper into the workings of the universe.
Sometimes timeless moments allow us to touch into the feeling of being part of the source of all of this, which feels and could well be eternal. Other species probably live a more timeless existence than we do. Although some do to an extent take past and future into account, unlike us they do not concern themselves with notions about time itself. As far as we can tell, it takes a creature capable of abstracting with thought, with a history and language, to be able both to live in time and appreciate the timeless moments that occur. Many indigenous peoples live more timelessly (given a plentiful food supply) because their relatively more static cultures are not structured around progress.
If, as we think, spirit and matter, being and becoming, timelessness and time are embedded in each other, then being in time and being timeless are two counterbalancing modes available to human awareness. An awareness of the timeless state is only possible in people because they exist in time, for it too occurs within the flow of time. It takes awareness of the past and future to give a sense of continuity, and thus time, in a given moment. An experience is called timeless to distinguish it from instances when one feels the flow of time more. The word “timeless” only has meaning because it stands out as different in a context of experiencing time’s flow. The inner psychological state of experiencing the flow of time and the experience of being timeless each need the other for contrast to be perceived. The concept of timelessness itself can only arise by comparing the memory of a timeless moment to other more time-bound ones. It takes a being who can remember, project, and think about the past and future to recognize a different state that feels out of time. Both modes are an essential part of living or at least being human. Like thought and non-thought, each is valuable and has an important role and appropriate function in the scheme of things, with neither being superior to the other. They each need the reflection of the other to have meaning and to reflect an aspect of how existence puts itself together.
Either/or thinking has difficulty with a dialectical synthesis that unites polarities because it assumes that one viewpoint must be more real and primary than the other: Seeming opposites are either “this or that,” but not “both and.” Either/or thinking cannot conceptualize two seeming opposites being equally real and fundamentally embedded in each other. The way we’re taught to think makes it difficult to see the embedded nature of much opposition because at first blush the two sides seem so absolutely different and opposite. If you look from a more inclusive level of awareness, you can see that they are not, but it is hard to think it.
Several other powerful factors work in tandem to reinforce the difficulty of holding unity and separation as embedded. For those who may have had a unity or Oneness experience, it often contains the quality of a sacred revelation of hidden cosmic truth. The “eternal now,” which can seem to be all there is when thought quiets, feels timeless and more real, as if one has touched the essence of “reality”—even though one seems to move from one eternal now to the next. Given the nature of either/or thinking, for those who have had this kind of “mystical” insight and others who value unity, it’s difficult not to make unity more important and more real than multiplicity. Even without these values, within the binary paradigm unity appears more encompassing, and in a fragmenting world the dream of unity seems to offer more hope and the possibility of an inbuilt solution. Multiplicity brings to mind the separateness of individuals, which highlights boundaries and isolation rather than their capacity to connect.
Then, too, the actual experiencing of unity is far more rare than experiencing oneself as separate. This naturally makes unity seem more special and profound. Moreover, strong emotions contribute to wanting to believe that separateness is an illusion or more limited reality, including the feeling that since unity seems eternal, the individual as part of this unity can be easily projected as eternal too. This assuages the inbuilt fear of death. The polarization in the world between spirituality and materialism, religion and secularism is partly a product of the prevalence of either/or thinking and worldviews. Two generic and opposing worldviews either place spirit in another realm or make the material world the only reality.
The proposed dialectical perspective can account for the nature of the subjective, internal experiences of time and timelessness. The unity worldview considers “psychological time” to be a product of thought as it plays in memory (the past) and projections (the future). So the thoughtless “now” is assumed to be more real than the inner feel of the flow of time. In our synthetic worldview both viewpoints are partially true: In a sense although the “now” is all that exists, it has within it the products of the past and the seeds of the future. So the past and future are not illusory. “Being” or “is-ness” has within it “becoming,” and becoming at every instant displays within it “what is.” The eternal (“timelessness”) only displays itself in the field of time as each separate moment contains and expresses what some consider the eternal in its own unique way. Another way of saying this is that the “eternal now” only displays itself through the transformations and patterns within time.
Worldviews that present the sense of self (which includes an ego) as a construct totally built by thought conclude that the idea of a self that thinks thoughts is illusory, because there is no thinker (self)—only thought. In this view the brain is merely an automatic thinking machine. It’s no accident that these worldviews (Buddhism being an example) look at spirituality as divesting yourself of ego and of the very idea (thought) that you are or have a self. In viewpoints where time and thought are defined as illusory, preoccupation with the past and future—a future that will be different from the mind’s spinnings—is seen as a major obstacle to being totally present. The living in the “now” ideal usually has an agenda that intimates it would be better to let go of the past and future, or at least not dwell in them, as much as possible.
Here the ideal of letting go of thoughts and the attachments that thought brings also becomes enmeshed in this agenda. Attachments, expectations, desires, fears, etc., are all a function of being in time, so that (theoretically at least) detaching enables one to be timeless. For how can you be attached and timeless? Attachment evoke desires and fears around continuity. Certain worldviews present detachment (or “non-attachment,” the sometimes preferred articulation) as fundamentally different from and better than being attached. It’s true that many past dramas and projections into the future come from thoughts and memories containing fears and desires, regrets and worries. Letting go of the past would be good if all that were meant by this is not getting caught in memory’s mechanical loops, although this is not easy to do. But what is often meant by letting go is “detaching from your story,” which involves detaching from your self, your identity, personality, and ego. The unity worldview maintains that your ego or sense of self is at the core of thought, preventing you from being truly present to “the only reality” there is, the now. Many “spiritual” paths aim at transcending ego, which really means trying to lose the sense of being an individuated self.
Although ego, personality, one’s sense of self can at times be limiting filters that become frozen and inhibit growth, they’re also an inherent part of being human. Without memory there would be little sense of self, but it is memory and the continuity of core aspects of the self that make us human. People who lose memory through brain damage lose the very fabric of their lives. One tragic amnesiac who lives entirely in the now with intelligence, but no memory whatsoever from moment to moment, describes himself as “condemned to live in the hell of the eternal now.” People say, “Be in the now because that’s all there is.” Though the present is all there is, thought too, which generates our sense of the past and the future, only occurs in the present. But as we’ve noted, it’s equally true that the present contains the past and future in very real ways that do not involve thought. A seed containing a future tree is an example of the future being contained in the present. When we look at a star many millions of light-years away, we’re seeing its past (what it looked like in the past), but the light emanating from it enters our eyes in our present. This is but one type of example of how the past is contained in the present. Thunder is heard in the listener’s present after it occurs. So is one not fully in the now when hearing or seeing something from the past? Is that different from an internal memory trace from the past?
In humans too, one’s past and future are not non-existent or merely the product of thought. Though parts of personality and the sense of self change over time, there are embodied and emotional aspects of the self that display a consistency through time. In one way it’s true that everything changes, but what changes has a history that is structured into whatever it becomes and that ongoingly remains part of it. Past experiences actually change the cellular matter that one’s “thinking and emotional body” brings to whatever now one is in. So the past does not live only as disembodied memory; past experiences live in the cells of the brain and body that thinks, remembers, and anticipates. This means that the past in a very real sense lives in and is part of the present you, as these changes occur through time within the unique structure that is and remains you. In short, the past is an integral and deeply meaningful part of the self. (Witnessing the later stages of Alzheimer’s reveals how very true this is.)
The way past and present are intertwined in our very being represents the embedded nature that we humans manifest of permanence and change within the universe. We change, but recognizably so. If you observe a person over time, you see many changes, but through the years there is also something recognizable that makes people who they are—to themselves and to us. This is not only a physical continuity but one of mannerisms, preferences, temperament, and so on. People’s genetic flavor, coupled with environmental input, develops over time to make them uniquely who they are. Their thoughts and worldview play an important role in this: when someone’s worldview dramatically changes, so too do they in important, but not all, ways.
Like the past, the future is also contained in the present. Human will, intention, and desire, which are real factors that impact the future, all aim at a future while occurring in the “now.” This partially constructs living moments, which become the next and then next present “now.” What’s important to see is that human will, intention, and action that aim at the future (in the present) are part of what creates the next present. Though our behavior and beliefs tend to come from social structures em-bedded in the past—and now determining and possibly destroy-ing humanity's future—we are capable of novel behavior to meet truly novel and dangerous challenges. So how we understand the interconnections among present, future, and past can affect what we do or don't do—it really matters.
There are many possible ways of looking at the relation be-tween the flow of time and that exact moment of livingness that we call the present. The present actually has no duration—that is, it instantly appears and disappears—and yet it's experienced as a continually uninterrupted flow. That there was a past and will be a future is necessary to make the present possible. The present contains within it the results, structures, and effects from the past that become part, though not all, of the living moment. The laws and tendencies that influence how the old and the new combine, as well as whether the inbuilt operators (laws, habits, patterns) are fixed or themselves evolving, is an in-teresting field of speculation. The past brings to the present its form, its shape, which comes out of what came before. Thus the present (and by extension the future) contain the products of the past, the old—these tend to be more mechanical and causal. The past creates tendencies, habits, and is necessary for certain events to happen at all. We humans are alive today and have civi-lization only because humans were alive yesterday and a million years ago to create culture and pass it on.
The relation between the past, present, and future, however, is not merely causal. The living moment has within it some-thing else something different from what the past brings. It is a gestalt, a unique configuration that is not merely reducible to the sum of its pasts. The present is the living, eternal miracle. That special and truly miraculous moment of aliveness that is the present is inherently new. Each instant, though often containing great similarities to the one before and after it, is never exactly the same as others. That which is truly new in the present comes as it intertwines with the future. This intermix of past and present with the future becomes the next present moment. So the future cannot be totally predetermined, defined, or pre-dicted merely by the past or by mechanical causality.
Cosmic evolution—that is, evolution in the broadest sense as an operator of change—works through the momentum of time. This is why many who claim the ultimate reality of only the "eternal now" (with past and future mainly being mere illusory products of thought) rarely adequately deal with evolution.
When the past slides into the present it doesn't totally disappear. Parts of it remain fossilized, like the fossils we find of extinct animals in the present. From a geological perspective the present contains the past embedded in matter (rocks), and from a psychological perspective it lives less stably in the memory of conscious individuals, while the present's possibilities (including human influence) construct a future. The past, then, is not only present within the present, it partly influences the future's direction-ality and possibility. Both past and future exist through the continuity of the ongoing present, which is always becoming, instant by instant, something new. This means that past and future, however differ-ent from the actual experience of the living moment, are not illusory but are real in the sense that they are operators within existence that make the living "now" possible.
This forward evolutionary movement, the one-way arrow of time, out of matter/energy created the galactic systems, the planet Earth, and then life, which led to consciousness and human thought. One might ask if the past and future are real, then where do they "exist"? One might as easily ask where the present, which does not seem to have a fixed point, exists. We think, as does much of science, that the best one can do at this time is to place the existence of the flow of time as a fourth dimension in the makeup of the cosmos.
Let's take as a supposition (one we think more likely than alternatives) that the only reason any life and intelligence are in the universe at all is because something in the way the whole of existence works aims toward it. That is to say that a vector toward intelligence is embedded in the structure of how existence puts itself together. In other words, the fact that intelligence evolved is not an accident or coincidence. If this were indeed true, it would mean that there is a teleological factor existent in the movement of time. (Teleology refers to the theory that the universe is not merely a function of mechan-ical causes, but has an element within it that aims or rather is pulled toward a purpose or result.)
This telos would reveal itself in the way the past and present combine to create the future. Insofar as the future is not totally determined, neither is the present that it helps create. The way "teleology" is usually used means going toward an inbuilt, specified, somehow predetermined end or result. This is not what we mean—our conception involves an ever-evolving, embedded, unpredictable movement toward complexity of matter and consciousness that shapes and defines itself as it develops, and inter-acts with everything else. As the present moves seemingly seamlessly from moment to moment, this telos brings to the next present moment a directionality toward complexity. This eventually led to self-reflecting intelligence that can uniquely reflect on the wonder we are all a part of Humans are not the conscious plan of some super-intentional intelligence. Rather existence is a context that through evolu-tion moves to construct undetermined forms that display intelligence.
It is neither scientifically provable nor falsifiable (equally important) to posit (as we are) that self-reflecting intelligence evolved because there is something (telos) within the structure of the way things work that moves in that direction. However, the other alternatives assume that we evolved by chance, or that our occurrence is statistically likely over the long haul (science's two favored but likewise un-falsifiable theories), or that we evolved by the will of some outside agent or creator god. Given the extraordinary complexity that brought forth experiencing, making chance or statistical possibility the reason we're here seems to us far more remote and unlikely. This is especially so given the fact that at higher levels of complexity, new qualities and laws emerge that are not reducible to those of lower levels. How the qualities and laws emerge in essence is still not understood. Having the cause be some super-natural outside agent stretches unlikeliness to its limit.
Likewise, if synchronicity were one of the operators in the way the universe and telos work, it would also function in this interface of the past and future, that is, in the living moment. Synchronicity refers to the simultaneous occurrence of related events whose juxtaposition cannot be explained by causality alone, while a belief that they happen to coincide merely by chance strains credulity. One reason for this strain is that these so-called chance occurrences happen far too often for mere chance to be even a plau-sible, let alone the best explanation. But if a teleological factor were operative in the way things work, this would make synchronistic events more understandable. If events are not only causally manufac-tured but are also pulled or drawn together by another principle based on enhancing (say) connecting and complexity, this could explain those moments that we have all had of connections that seem to defy both causality and coincidence as an explanation.
We've been examining the two subjective ways that people experience time—being in time or being timeless—as non-evaluatively as we can. We'll now look more closely at the seemingly simple but actu-ally convoluted question of what living in the present, the now, actually involves. Living in the "now" has become a very popular idea. The injunction to "Be here now" that was a rallying cry for the counter-culture in the sixties came from the infusion of Eastern mysticism into a society hungry for new values, new experiences, and new meaning in life. It offered an alternative to the "rat race." For an essentially puritanical culture whose deep values warn against "wasting time" and laziness, this was heady stuff that gave permission to "be" instead of always being busy "becoming" which usually translates into trying to become "better," however defined.
What "be here now" means is to be present or be mindful of the present: "Be in the eternal now—for that's all there really is anyway." The past and future live only in your mind, and dwelling there removes you from the potential ecstasy contained in the moment. In short, "be out of time; be timeless." The idea that the past and the future only exist in thought came from the East. So valuing timelessness was taken to mean detaching from the creator of psychological time, which was correctly seen to be thought.
Many popular books and seminars talk about a spiritual awakening that comes from being in total presence. They tell you to quiet thought in order to be "in the now" as much as possible, and they claim to help people do it. Some extol the power of the now to cure all your problems and even the tremendous world crises. This belief is an example of how a worldview can influence ideas about time, thought, and the self, which have a direct influence on behavior—what people want to do, think they should do, try to do, and will or won't do. Quieting thought is said to detach you from your ego, ending the illusion of separation and allowing you to experience the interconnectedness of all things. The assumption is that if people would quiet thought and just be present, this would bring a radical change in consciousness (love and a sense of unity) that would enable us to solve personal and global problems. This is why many purveyors of unity worldviews tout presence as the only real revolution in consciousness, so radical that it will be a panacea for everything.
There are many problems with unity worldviews, including the fact that ego can't get rid of itself because it is integral to individuation. And the exhortation to "be here now," be present or mindful, presumes that there is only one present to be mindful of and one right way to be in it. This is an oddly narrow vision for the wide spectrum of existence and behaviors that one can be present to. Being truly meticulous with the meaning of "being in the now," one sees that everything that is happening is only occurring now. This includes people starving, ice caps melting, thoughts about the past or future—ev-erything external and internal: if it exists it's happening now.
If there's no way not to be in the now, why all the concern? Does this mean that it's possible to not be in the now? If the present is all one can be in anyway, there should be no need to advocate being in it. The very interesting question is, then, what are all the admonitions really about? What is the underlying true concern? A hidden agenda must be involved in preferring some nows over others. People might say that although there's no way not to be in the present, there are many ways of not "being present" to the present. But an often-underlying worldview assumption here is that presence, being in the "now," only occurs when thought is silent and ego is in abeyance, and then the "real" now (devoid of human subjectiv-ity) reveals itself......
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