A Gestalt View of No-Self
Preface:
My original intention
was for this post to be a follow-up piece to last week’s Too Big For Any Sticks or Stones To Hurt Us. Notwithstanding that
fact, Too Big For Any Sticks or Stones To
Hurt Us – Part 2 of Whatever seemed just a bit too obtuse and cumbersome.
It was then that my working title changed to Five Views of No-Self. I really liked that title, despite the fact
that it tips my hand regarding precisely what I really mean by “too big”.
(Alas, the element of surprise has been lost!) The biggest problem with that title,
however, was the fact that I could only do justice to one of those views over
the course of the five or so pages comprising my usual post length. And so we have
this week’s A Gestalt View of No-Self
– with four more views to be explored in the following post.
Too
Big For Any Sticks or Stones To Hurt Us began an exploration of the premise
that we might be better able to withstand the many verbal and physical insults
of life by simply expanding our conceptualization of who we are – by letting dissolve
our rigid ideas regarding self and other – thereby making ourselves bigger in
the process. Why don’t we begin with that premise now – using it as a base camp,
so to speak, from which to launch some additional excursions? From where I’m
standing it looks as though there are at least five peaks up there worthy of
climbing. I’m betting on the view from at least one of them being good enough
to give us a clear-eyed view of this valley that we call the self. But, of
course, you’ll have to judge that for yourself. So, are your hiking boots tightly
laced? Let’s head on out!
 |
| Base Camp at Mount Everest |
A Gestalt View of No-Self
The usual Western way of thinking
about the world is as a collection of things, each one separate and
independent, each one complete in and of itself, each one possessing its own
identity. Notwithstanding this prevailing perspective, Western thought has also
given rise to the concept of the gestalt, defined by Merriam-Webster's
online dictionary as: “a structure, arrangement, or pattern of physical,
biological, or psychological phenomena so integrated as to constitute a
functional unit with properties not derivable by summation of its parts.” How
one experiences a gestalt is a function of perspective, orientation, viewpoint,
or conditioning. For instance, one viewer might focus on the individual parts
without experiencing the integrated whole while another might experience the
integrated whole without ever becoming aware of the individual parts.
As long as we keep a couple of caveats
in mind, we might make good use of the gestalt concept in order to better
understand the Mahayana Buddhist concept of no-self
– the nonexistence of this thing that we normally think of as being separate
and independent, complete in and of itself, possessing its own identity. The
first caveat relates to the final clause in the definition of gestalt:
“summation of its parts.” Mahayana Buddhism does not recognize the existence of
any irreducible “parts” (dharmas to
use a Buddhist term). The second caveat relates to the fact that whatever
structure, arrangement, or pattern might result from any collection of “parts”
is also without enduring selfhood. Thus, whatever we are experiencing when we
experience a gestalt is also without separate and independent existence.
Consider the famous image to the left. On
one level it merely consists of three shapes – two black and one white. However,
when we focus on the image in totality, the gestalt, we see an image containing
much more meaning than a mere collection of shapes. The ambiguity of this
gestalt image is an excellent example how figure and ground interact in order
to affect our perception. In fact, figure and ground have no absolute meaning
in this image. We might see the black shapes as the ground and the white shape
as the figure – a vase, it would seem. We might also see the white shape as the
ground and the black shapes as figures – two faces, it would seem.
This example of figure/ground ambiguity
can be used to help us better understand how we experience our world as a
collection of separate human beings (figures) acting within a separate environment
(ground). The reason that we tend to not even question this understanding is
testament to the strength of our conditioning – we are projecting our
understanding of selfhood “out” into “our environment”. Whether we see faces,
or a vase, as the case may be, is related to our conditioning. The fact of the
matter is that neither face nor vase exists without the other. Neither exists independent
of the other; neither is complete in and of itself, possessing its own identity.
In an ultimate sense, we might say
that the image is empty of any meaning whatsoever. The face or vase forms are
illusory. This is precisely what is meant by the two levels of truth of
Mahayana Buddhism – relative and ultimate – wherein relative truth pertains to
our ordinary way of perceiving the world and ultimate truth pertains to the
emptiness of all phenomena (shunyata,
to use another Buddhist term). This interplay of relative and ultimate truth is
precisely that which is spoken of in the Heart Sutra: “That which is form is
shunyata; that which is shunyata is form.”
Hold that thought while I shift
gears for a moment and harken back to a line from the Diamond Sutra:
Subhuti, what is called Buddhadharma is everything
that is not Buddhadharma.
Perhaps you recall me quoting this
line in my Reflections on the Diamond Sutra post (translation courtesy of
Thich Nhat Hanh, 1992, p. 7). The term Buddhadharma
means “buddha law” or “buddha teaching” and is generally used in reference to
the teachings of the historical Buddha (Schuhmacher & Woerner, 1994, p.
48). Of course, the great truth pointed to by the teachings of the historical
Buddha is that of the seamless nature of ultimate reality. But how can we even begin
to grasp the truth of this seamless reality as long as we’re still clinging
tightly to our small ideas related to the Buddhadharma being some narrowly
prescribed pathway of perfection while everything else is simply, well,
everything else. It would seem, then, that these words spoken to Subhuti by the
Buddha must be pointing to a universal truth. Let’s see what happens when we
point them in the direction of this thing that we call the self.
What is called the self is everything that
is not the self.
Hmmm…, there’s that figure/ground
ambiguity again! The figure exists only in relation to the ground from which “it” is
set apart. The figure cannot exist without the ground. Likewise, the self
cannot exist apart from the context in which it arises. The self is not
independent of family, community, or the cultural and social norms and forms
that “it” has been born into. The self is not independent of the environment into
which “it” arises.
Do you doubt this? Consider the
following thought experiment: Imagine that you wake up tomorrow in a foreign
land – one with strange customs and a different language, one that doesn’t
particularly value that which you’ve grown to believe is of value, one in which
all of the skills that you’ve painstakingly learned throughout the course of
your life are of absolutely no use or consequence whatsoever. Why stop there?
Imagine, as well, that none of that which gave you sustenance even exists in this
foreign land. Now, imagine that this strange happening turns out to be your
permanent fate. Ha! I suppose I’m asking you to imagine yourself in a situation
like might be described on the Firesign Theatre’s science fiction satire, Everything You Know is Wrong. Seriously,
when plucked out of context in this way, the “self” can no longer exist. It must
change, adapt, transform, and relearn. It must become that which it is
not. It must become another self – another self in relation to another
environment, that is.
So, we’ve made it to the top of our
very first peak. How’s the view? It’s kind of interesting, isn’t it, that when
we’re way down on the valley floor it seems as though the valley is our entire
world. Now that we have some perspective, though, that valley is much more
easily seen as an integral part of a much, much larger universe. Well, how
about we head back down for now? We'd better get some rest because we still have four more climbs to go!
References
Nhat Hanh,
T. (1992). The diamond that cuts through illusion: Commentaries on the
prajnaparamita diamond sutra. Parallax Press.
Schuhmacher,
S., Woerner, G. (1994). The encyclopedia of Eastern philosophy and religion.
Shambhala Publications, Inc.
Image Credits
Everest Base Camp
by Tom Simcock via:
Cup or Faces
Paradox by Bryan Derksen via:
http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Cup_or_faces_paradox.svg
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