Science and Mysticism

  Rivals or Colleagues?  

Some of my friends view the world through the lens of science, and others are inclined towards mysticism. The first group generally fails to distinguish between “religion” and mysticism, and the second habitually confuses science with pseudo-science. Frankly, I find both groups complacent.

For me, the two endeavours are of a piece: I am both a scientist and a mystic¹. I therefore find myself in a kind of no-man’s-land, where some part of my vision is routinely discredited. This post is an invitation, especially for the scientists, to reconsider their smug certitude.

What Is? (Ontology)

Scientists² assume³ that an external reality exists, and that events occurring therein can be shared (at least potentially) by every human alive. As individuals, we also enjoy direct experience of an internal reality: what it is like to be me, which does not, at first glance, appear to be shareable in quite the same way. Just as scientists explore and characterize the outer world, mystics explore and characterize the inner world.

If I say that my experiments have shown water to be H₂O, you can check the truth of my claim by doing your own experiments: the shareability of the external realm allows reproducibility, one of the pillars of the scientific method. Claims about the external world can therefore be accepted as provisionally true, and used as elements in the construction of further such claims, unless and until they are shown, by evidence, to be false.

Whenever I say something about the internal world, however, there is a difficulty to be overcome. We have to consider the possibility that I’ve been misled by some unacknowledged bias or other misinterpretation. If you have no access to check the truth of my claim, then how do we know that I’m not deluded? Nobody bothers to ask this question when I say, “I have a headache”, but we must ask it if someone makes a claim like, “Love is the ground of all being”. So the problem only arises when I make a claim, based on the observation of my own internal realm, which impinges upon the external realm that we all share.

How Do We Know What Is? (Epistemology)

In the modern world, the scientific method is acknowledged as the tool of choice for investigating the outer realm: the best method of reliably establishing true facts. Even those who are reluctant to admit such facts, preferring the authority of “scripture”, are careful to apply their ignorance selectively: to the age of the Earth, for example, yet not to the principles of aircraft design.

But what about the inner realm? Remarkably, almost everybody depends upon received authority to establish true facts about their own inner world. How bizarre! Why rely upon “holy” books, “religious” leaders, media pundits, or even your friends and family, to decide what’s happening inside your own head? Why not just look for yourself?

In the same way that it takes many years to acquire a useful scientific education, conducting a comprehensive enquiry into the nature of one’s own psychology simply requires more commitment than most people are prepared to invest. Having explored both realms, I am trying to describe the process of investigating the inner world, and to talk about some of my findings, in a way which is digestible to scientists and others of a rational inclination.

There is an approach through which the inner world can be systematically investigated. Meditation⁴ is the discipline of persistently paying meticulous attention to any and every experience encountered. Or you can call it subjective science. Dedicated practice generates empirical observations⁵ capable of being communicated to (at least in outline), and verified by, anyone who takes the trouble to investigate for themselves. And there’s the rub. The discoveries of objective science only need to be made once, for everyone to share the benefits, but it doesn't work that way for subjective science – if you want the benefit, you have to do all the work yourself.

Pretending to Know What Is (Theology and Other Fantasies)

Nowadays “religious” people like to pronounce that their delusions are scientific; but they have always sought to claim ownership of mysticism, so much so that mysticism is routinely (and ignorantly) conflated with “religion”. Why do they play these games? Because science succeeds. Because mysticism works. They are simply trying to boost their power and prestige by associating their absurd delusions with truly effective practices. “Religion” gets in the way of science, and it gets in the way of mysticism.

Most people waste their lives being “religious” in ways which are easy to ridicule, and they surely deserve our scorn, as well as our pity. A very few people, however, far less than 1%, are trying to do something entirely different. We are engaged in an empirical enquiry into the nature of our own psychology. You have probably met many who claim as much, but most of these will be peddling some kind of new-age woo, and such people are simply another distraction, no more deserving of our attention than the traditional god-botherers.

A few lucky people manage to escape from “religion”, but all too often they become trapped by channelling, or chakra-balancing, or some other nonsense⁶. Until you can see through both kinds of delusion you can’t begin your own authentic enquiry. Genuine mystics really exist, and you will be fortunate indeed when you realise this.

Discovering What Is (Meditation)

Until you know who you are you can’t rely on anything else. To answer the question What is? you need first to ask Who am I? And the tool you need for this enquiry, the disciplined approach to subjective science, is meditation.

The search is arduous, and often dispiriting. Many who lack the necessary courage or perseverance disdainfully misrepresent the insights accruing from meditation as “revelation”. But in fact, such people are no more credible that those who deny the reality of climate-change, or the efficacy of vaccinations. If you don’t have a scientific education, it is foolish to express anti-scientific views on these matters. In just the same way, if you haven’t established a meditative practice, it is unwise to try to undermine those who have.

My enquiry is sustained, deliberate, incisive and coherent. I subscribe to no “holy” texts, I revere no “religious” leaders, I rest upon no authority but my own. Such beliefs and opinions as I hold are labile – readily replaceable by any better ideas which arise. All knowledge is tentative: knowledge of the outer world is falsifiable, but knowledge of the inner world is fugitive, and I pretend to none. In this moment something is self-evident, more I cannot say.

Nonetheless, it is my direct experience that meditation gradually disabuses me of the many false notions which I have found myself clinging to. The process of trying to live meditatively informs and illuminates my daily experience with a significance which was lacking when I limited my enquiry to the objective realm. I have benefited immensely from my practice, but it won’t help you at all, in fact you probably won’t even credit my remarks – unless you begin your own enquiry.

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¹When I call myself a mystic, people generally assume I’m selling something: either a belief-system deliberately designed to be impenetrable, or some preposterous new-age woo. This is a misunderstanding. Many useful words have been debased by those seeking power or profit, but the words mystic and mysticism are the best ones available in English, and need to be redeemed.

²For scientist you may read realist, rationalist, materialist, naturalist, physicalist, or any other philosophical flavour that takes your fancy, without affecting the essence of my meaning. Philosophical street-cred is not my primary concern.

³That this is indeed an assumption is rarely mentioned by scientists, who are also not generally concerned about philosophy. Solipsism has never had much support, but perhaps we live inside a computer simulation.

⁴This term is often used for specific techniques, for example Dynamic Meditation, but the meaning here intended is much more general, encompassing a way of living which is structured around a process of subjective enquiry. Mystic is to meditation as scientist is to scientific method.

⁵Astronomers never do any experiments either.

⁶Hey, I’m not knocking the placebo effect. If reflexology makes you feel better then go for it, but if you imagine it will help you become more conscious, then I fear you will be disappointed.

Gurus 101

  What’s it all about?  

When I became Osho’s disciple, a sannyasin, many of my circle of friends and acquaintances were surprised. Their opinion, generally implied rather than spoken, was that I had behaved in some inexplicably foolish manner which reflected badly on them – it was embarassing, and a little disturbing. I, who had always been so subversive towards any kind of authority, had abdicated my reason to follow some guru. I must surely have been brainwashed somehow, and if it could happen to me…

Times have changed and misunderstanding has modulated, still I feel that some may appreciate a basic introduction to the world as seen by a sannyasin.

What is a guru?

Let’s deal with the labels first: avatar, buddha, god-man, master, sage, teacher, and a score of Sanskit terms. It will soon become clear why I prefer the word Master.

A master is a human being who perceives identity and reality in a qualitatively distinct way. A nematode worm has 302 neurons, while I have around 100 billion, yet the way in which we experience ourselves and the world around us is rather similar, at least from the perspective of a master.

But the worm will remain a worm, whereas I, and you also, have the potential to become enlightened. Enlightenment means the transition process through which the realization arises. Every master is (permanently) enlightened, but it seems that not every enlightened being is a master.

In parallel with the superficial history of the world, the kings and presidents, the wars and revolutions, there is another view of what’s happening, especially of who the most significant people are. Some historical masters are taken to be philosophers (Pythagoras, Socrates, etc.), and others are thought to be religious leaders (Gautam Buddha, Jesus Christ, etc.), but both these perspectives entirely miss the point of who such people really are.

Do masters really exist? What are they like?

Yes they do! And they are astonishingly diverse. The rest of us are domesticated by our biology and psychology, and by our societies. But a master has escaped from these limitations, he is a wild and untamed being.

A true master performs a specific function. What he says or does is incidental. What he is is primary. Everyone who finds themselves sharing a space with the master experiences an involuntary overlap with the being of the master: there’s this guy on a trampoline doing the most amazing stuff, and you’re sitting on the edge of it so you’re sure to get bounced around some - love it or hate it.

Ultimately, however, the focus is not on how remarkable the master is, but on being a disciple. I will have more to say about this, in subsequent posts.

Do I need a master?

It depends. Most people don’t. Do you need to fall in love with this or that person? With anyone? Either you do or you don’t fall in love, that’s just how it happens. If you happen to encounter a master who makes your heart sing then you won’t be asking this question anymore. If you don’t then that’s fine too.

The traditional answer is that the master finds the disciple, not the other way around, but few of us are ready to embrace the surrender that this implies.

I’ve noticed that people often come to the master when they are suffering some kind of psychological and emotional crisis, but they tend to fall away when their lives become comfortable once more. We are all damaged and insane, to some degree, but if you are really ready to turn and look within, then the presence of the master is invaluable.

Aren’t there lots of false masters?

You got that right. There’s always been an abundant supply of bogus god-men, and nowadays there are legions of guru-wannabes bombarding us with new-age twaddle.

It has always been difficult to sort the wheat from the chaff, and the internet hasn’t made it any easier.

The very worst are the well-intentioned half-wise; self-deluded seekers who have prematurely ceased their seeking. If somebody seems to be, perhaps is, wiser than me, then perhaps this is a useful teacher, but a master is something else.

How do I tell the difference between the real and the false?

The short answer is that you can’t.

Well, certainly not from anything external. Perhaps you have a checklist, with lots of boxes involving money and sex – then you’ve provided the master with a simple way to throw you off the scent. Any apparent lapse into “attachment” or “impurity” will blow you away, making space for others, more discerning than you, to approach.

Some masters have a wicked sense of humour: Neem Karoli Baba sometimes made a great ceremony of catching a train to go to another city. Crowds of disciples would come to see him off, and hundreds would accompany him. Then at the last moment, when the train was already travelling quite fast, he would jump off and go somewhere else, leaving his disciples stranded.

Then how can anyone recognize the master?

It happens, somehow. From Osho I have heard that the master does not distinguish his point of view from yours or mine – to him we are all enlightened. To the extent that we are capable of sharing this understanding, we are also able to recognize the master within.

Are there different degrees of enlightenment?

For those of us who still imagine ourselves to be separate beings, holding on to our precious minds, there is little to be gained from such speculation.

Some say there are three levels, and that from the first level it is still possible to be reincarnated… oops! All this esoteric stuff is a potent distraction. Taste a little bit and you will go looking for more. Stay grounded in your own experience.

Are there different kinds of master?

More esoterica to get lost in. Some celebrated masters have made a big thing out of this, but mostly it’s just the disciples trying to get one-up. The only kinds I find it useful to consider are the master and the others. With the master you cannot helping loving him - his every word and gesture inspire delight. With the others you are not sure what’s what. And your other may be my master, and your master may be my other.

Any master will do. A few have a high public profile, and make an impression on the world at large, but most live quietly, ignored by all except a few disciples.

It may be that some masters, in addition working on their disciples, also play a broader role. They seem to be pioneers, discovering new realms of consciousness and opening them up for others to experience. This is all very entertaining, but again, it draws attention away from the real enquiry.

But my religion says that X / Y / Z was the only-son / true-prophet / last-messenger of god.

Like I said, not everybody is ready for a master. True seekers are a tiny minority.

What is your personal experience of masters? How do you know all this?

I am not enlightened. I spent weeks or months hanging out near Osho on a number of occasions, but many others were much closer for much longer than me. Perhaps some of them are enlightened - though a few are patently idiotic, or worse.

I speak on my own authority, from my own experience, trying to share my understanding as straightforwardly as I can. If I mention anything beyond my experience, I make that clear. Sometimes I’m obliged to use metaphorical language, but none of it is there to confuse you - authenticity is the cardinal virtue.

For those who may be looking, I can say that in the years since Osho left his body (“died”), I’ve checked out quite a few people who claim enlightenment, or allow others to claim it for them. I haven’t found any who struck me in the way that Osho did, yet it seems to me that there are real masters around.

What’s it really like to meet a master?

Like being home, at last.

Like feeling high, as high as sex or drugs have ever helped you feel.

Like meeting your best friend again, after many many years when you had somehow, strangely, forgotten all about them.

Like remembering what it was like to be you at the age of 3, or 2, or…

Like being in the right place at the right time, beyond any shadow of a doubt.

In resonance with the master, borrowing his eyes, you sense that something wonderful is possible; something fresh. The master is a sandpit for baby god to play in.

An Unexpected Departure

  How I became a disciple of Osho  

From my earliest youth it always seemed to me that my ideas were out of step with pretty much everyone else around me. Yet I held firm to my own opinions, indeed I fought so strongly for the rightness of my views that I found it hard to make or keep real friends. In time I found more congenial company, especially at Oxford University, where free-thinking was more socially acceptable. And gradually I came to realise that being right is less important than enjoying the freedom to form and express my own ideas.

Yet there was a method to my vehemence: the scientific method. I held no views unless they could be supported empirically, and was ready to reverse my position as soon as I became aware of fresh evidence. I considered myself a thorough rationalist, ignoring authority and eschewing superstition - let the truth be known by its merits. Yes I had read a book on Zen Buddhism, and I had even been to a few meetings with a group of Sufi mystics, but this was all part of my quest to know all that could reasonably be known. In just the same spirit I had set myself to reading as much as I could of the world’s great literature, though my formal education had been scientific, in order to complete myself as a rounded and well-informed person.

A few years after graduating I got together with some old friends from college. Another friend had been out of touch for some time, and now news had been received from him. Apparently he’d gone overland to India, which in those days was a common aspiration for hippie types like us, and there he’d met some guru. This struck me as rather exotic, it had never occurred to me that I might meet such people. Well, a book and a tape had been sent to one of these friends, but when I arrived they’d already listened to the entire tape, so they weren’t very keen to hear it again. Feeling a bit frustrated, I picked up the book, and in the front fly-leaf there was a photo of Osho…

So there’s this guy with long hair and beard, wearing a long white robe, and something about the photo is super-real – like he’s shining up out of the page at me. My mind suggests that the photo has been retouched, but I can’t imagine what could possibly produce such an effect. So I’m staring at this image, gob-smacked, and I try to point out to the others how remarkable it is, without much success, except that they eventually agree to listen again to a bit of the tape.

It was just a few sentences that I heard, considerably less than five minutes, but from the very beginning, as soon as I heard Osho’s voice – I couldn’t understand much of what he was saying so I guess the sound itself was the real trigger – another process was going on inside me while I was listening, and this parallel process was essentially completed during that time. Actually I don’t think there were any words involved but I’ll try to render it understandable as a stream of verbal thinking:

So I’m going to India. How soon can I go? I’ve got to give notice from my job, so that’s three months, and I’ll have to sell my place. Damn! It’ll have to be sold to my ex-wife, since she paid some of the loan, but she doesn’t have any money! So I’ll have to arrange a meeting with her and her parents, and I’ll just have to persuade them to buy it for her. Shit! What about my parents? They’re going to be really pissed off, but they’ll just have to accept my decision. And what about my girlfriend – she’s still at college? Well she can join me later, I can’t miss this opportunity. What else? I can give most of my stuff away, my books to A, my clothes to B and C, maybe I can sell my record collection to D, the rest of it I can just throw away, anything I can’t carry. So I’ll get a ticket for three months’ time, there’s a few friends I’d like to visit before I go, but, yeah it’s all doable…

Before encountering the photo and the tape I suppose I was vaguely discontented with my life as it had been, but I wasn’t actively seeking anything, certainly not a Master! I had a job I enjoyed, and a girl I wanted to be with, and plenty of good close friends. It seems, however, that an existential crisis was bubbling under. Within a few moments the direction of my life had utterly changed. I was going to India to be at the feet of the Master, and I didn’t intend to ever return.

Sure enough, it all played out as “planned” and three months later I was sorting through the last few things just prior to my departure. I came across a leaflet with some of Osho’s words, and a photo. In a flash I realised how I had nearly come to Osho…

Some years earlier I had visited a new-agey exhibition, when such things really were new, and there I’d picked up a great many leaflets. When I got home I’d read through them all and, concluding that none of them was for me, I discarded them. All except one. I read it many times, and decided that this was something which was either completely beyond my experience and wholly remarkable, or it was such a good hoax that it was anyway worth following up. These people had a centre in London, and Wednesday night was open night. Every Wednesday I thought about going, for many weeks, but every Wednesday I was too timid. Eventually I buried the leaflet in a deep drawer, and the uncomfortable memory of my cowardice in my deep unconscious.

So he got me in the end. It didn’t feel at all like I made any kind of decision, more like he had his hook in me and was just reeling me in. This, then, is the story of how I became a disciple of Osho - but did I have to abandon my rational approach to life? Absolutely not! I remain as awkward as ever, for which some of my fellow disciples give me grief. I’m also overwhelmed and delighted to have found Osho, for which some old friends scorn me as a fool. Down through the years I’ve tried to integrate these two streams of my experience, and it’s become clear that there’s nothing to be done about it - I’m just stuck with this unusual take on reality. Hearing Something Which Is Not Said is an attempt to crystallize my own understanding, and also to share whatever can be shared with anybody else who may be interested.