Decoding our life’s experiences, or perspectives, isn’t a problem so long as we are connecting them to comprehensible paradigms, contexts, or stated connotations that they convey to us. The whole idea, however, gets lost when we twist, or redefine them, while fitting them into totally new perspectives, or hooking them to a pedestal that does not exist. This is because ‘forced’ experiences communicate a strange hypothesis — a drapery of unconnected, unrecognisable, or confused contexts.
This is also a part of a muddled backdrop, not just in terms of ‘happenings’ that are not existent, but also because it does not help us to make detailed interpretations. The whole purpose of experience is, again, misplaced when we disallow perspectives to speak in their own, untainted language, or express themselves — simply, sensibly and without jargon.
What is true, or false, essential, or superficial, is a serious issue; it is not trivial. One cannot, as most of us often do, just sit and define our terms and not follow the practice that we assert — or, sincerely espouse. No spiritual quest can ever begin with such intentions — one that does not speak of fair play, candour, righteousness and openness. It is only when we preserve a rich assortment of views that we begin to explore our spiritual beliefs and also bring about a gradual transformation in our thought process — of what we once thought isn’t the same in changing times.
What does this signify? That to reach a ‘common divine position,’ our sense of diversity has to be as limitless as the divine — like our imagination which is unlimited. Imagination, of course, is boundless. If one were to apply the premise that imagination is a ‘limited’ enterprise, it would be akin to questioning the sublime genius of Benjamin Franklin. It is this recognition that drives us to ‘sport’ an open mind that is also accessible to new dimensions and possibilities in, and of, everyday life.
There is more to the ‘openness’ idea than what meets the mind. When we are open and receptive to anything new, or different, in the ‘thoughtful’ field, we would automatically be in a better position, than we ever were, to embracing new experiential perspectives about who we are, or what our theories and experiences actually are in our own presence — not just in front of others who we know, or may not know. This is the fundamental characteristic of genuine self-knowledge as opposed to popular formulae — more so, because the search for truth is not simple. It is a formidable exercise — one that goes on and on until there is nothing left to uncertainty, or there are no questions remaining to inquire, ask, or examine from the inside out.
The whole foundation of applying, understanding and absorbing our experiences calls for conscious and unconscious knowledge. In Eastern thought, the unconscious is everything that is not consciousness — it is not the divine, self, or subject. It is anything that could be an object of consciousness — your body, senses, mind, intellect and thoughts, including your own personality, your computer, or mobile phone — a mirror that holds your own self-image.
Western philosophy, however, views the self as self — the ‘objective’ aspect. This is also one reason why most thinkers from the West suggest that the psyche and self could be objectively studied. The Eastern standpoint is — all we can possibly study is the empirical, or the phenomenal self, and the conscious ego. The inference is obvious. The ‘true’ self, according to Oriental philosophy, can never be studied, or objectively analysed. It can only be experienced at a higher plane — of what is called as ‘reflective consciousness.’
All the same, the more we let go, the more relieved we’d all be from the stranglehold of stress, or anxiety. This positive endeavour, in the midst of chaos, allows us to ‘reinvent’ oneself and also understand our mind, body, and soul in quintessential, tangible terms. More so, when one manages to untangle from the deep recesses of a certain negative emotion that once defined their behaviour, or existence. Philosophers call it the ‘open-minded state’ — the fertile soil on which we are able to express ourselves, while reshuffling our expressions with the autonomy to act, and not reacting by reflex.
As psychologist Josh Adler writes in Open Journal of Philosophy, “’Open mind’ is a contemporary concept rife in popular cultural memetics since at least the late 1950s, when ‘father of the atomic bomb,’ J Robert Oppenheimer applied it to governance, as ‘an indispensable, perhaps in some ways the indispensable, element in giving meaning to the dignity of man…’”
Later, in the same article, Oppenheimer concludes, “The style, the perceptiveness, the imagination, and the open-mindedness with which we need to conduct our [governmental] affairs can only pervade… if they are a reflection of a deep and widespread public understanding.” Social psychologist Milton Rokeach and his colleagues in The Open and Closed Mind followed soon after by arguing sociologically, that, “a rigid cognitive organisation of attitudes and values leads to predictable social consequences, including prejudice and authoritarian submission.”
The Open Work, first published in 1962, by Umberto Eco, provides a poetics-based critique of ‘openness,’ as a crucial developmental aspect of contemporary art’s engagement with cultural ‘formativity.’ He writes, “In art, the individual forms for the sake of forming, thinks and acts in order to form… form is a structured object uniting thought, feeling, and matter in an activity that aims at the harmonious coordination of all three and proceeds according to the laws postulated and manifested by the work itself as it is being made… a form, once it has reached completion and autonomy, can be seen as perfect only if it is dynamically considered. Aesthetic contemplation is this active consideration that retraces the process which gave life to form… But since the fact of form opens it up to an infinity of different perspectives, the process which actualises itself as form also realises itself in the continuous possibility of interpretation.”
Eco’s understanding of aesthetic contemplation as a significant process in consciousness’ dynamic organisation of a perceptual continuum outlines its faculty as the primary receptive interpreter between indeterminate and deterministic neurological fields. For instance, the process of ‘harmonious coordination’ as Eco describes can be challenged by competing views that result in ‘cognitive dissonance’ if the interpreter is unable to remain ‘open’ to co-emergently different, yet viable, perspectives. His position, therefore, supports an understanding of open-mindedness as a compositional phenomenon that allows consciousness to combine into ever more complex activity, as well as a creative source of new physical possibilities.
It would do us all a world of good when we think of our emotions as a small paper boat in a puddle of water during rains. The little boat will move freely just as much as you let it go, more so when you tie a strand to it and hold the ‘controls.’ This simile holds good for your emotions too — because, it is only when your mind is willing to let go of old negative emotions that you’ll discard and break out of your comfort zone, or staying put in the cocoon that resides in your old, pessimistic psyche.
Paracelsus, the mediaeval physician and alchemist, articulated that each of us has a resourceful flair in the arts, sciences, and philosophies. Our imaginative powers are not just external, but also internal. This is because all of us can generate thoughts and emotions, propelled by anything that could be set in a peculiar motion. He suggested that there were several negative thought and emotion forms that cause energy blockages. When such negative energies generate damaging thoughts, on a perennial basis, it becomes difficult for us to operate well, or attain a state of personalised independence. This may, in the long run, turn upon us, triggering dreadful habits, including addiction, while impairing our health and happiness.
The philosopher Plato, likewise, thought that we are all in the same little boat as regards our moral behaviour, although the rational individual, as he contended, follows a life of wisdom, courage, balance, integrity, and not stupidity, fear, lack of self-discipline, or bias. Put simply, this means that if we were to choose physical illness over physical health, for example, we’d be foolish. If we were to choose moral and spiritual illness over moral and spiritual health, we’d be illogical. The inference is obvious — if we want to be truly happy, we must choose to live well.
— First published in India First
