Take Me to the River
- Learning and the Mind
by Michael Maciel
The word educate comes from the Latin word
educare, which means to draw out. This implies that knowledge comes
from within us. Facts act as catalysts to activate the knowledge that is
already there. This leads us to think that learning is more a remembering
than it is an accumulation of new ideas.
Of, course, this flies in the face of the conventional wisdom, which places
great importance on deriving knowledge from the world of objective sensory
experience. Knowledge isn't knowledge unless it comes from the world
"out there". Ironically, this belief is held by a world whose major scientific
discoveries have come through flashes of insight, dreams, and hunches more
than it has through rational deduction and objective evidence. Nevertheless,
the world persists in believing that the mind is a blank slate, a tabula rasa,
built up from birth out of input from the senses. Most of today's learning
methodologies are based upon this premise.
We are now compelled to consider an alternative: there is nothing to learn.
Everything that has ever existed, does exist, or will exist exists now. In a
way that is perhaps impossible to articulate, existence does not relate to
time. The principles of electromagnetism were just as real for the
Neanderthals as they are for us today. We did not invent them - they have
always been, and they will always be. Likewise, the principles of cold
fusion, anti-gravity, the cure for cancer, and physical regeneration are real
now, existing right under our collective nose, waiting only for the proper
insights that will bring them to light.
The second premise to be considered is that what we call mind has its
origin in the total spectrum of existence. It functions as an ethereal organ of
reflection, a cosmic web browser that, depending on how it's configured,
sorts out and interprets the One as the Many (the "ten thousand things" of
Lao Tzu). Why it occurs this way is anyone's guess, but it does present us
with a whole new way of learning, because knowledge does not originate
with the senses.
If everything that can exist already exists, then learning about a thing
happens when we focus our attention upon it. We simply look in that
direction. The only hindrance to this process is our own preconceptions.
Instead of simply looking, we try to superimpose our ideas onto what we're
seeing - we try to make reality conform to our ideas about reality. It is only
when we can, as William Blake put it, "cleanse the doors of perception", or
as Emily Dickinson said, "see with the unfurnished eye", that we can re-
relate the parts to the whole.
The new model for learning, therefore, is to UNLEARN - to take our mind
and "wash it down" of the opinions and preconceptions that prevent our
vision. Daisetz Susuki called this "beginner's mind", which strips away the
superficial clutter of collected facts and uncovers the total spectrum that
forms the foundation of our experience.
The ancient rite of baptism reminds us that underneath the encrustation of
earthly, sensory interpretation lies the direct perception of the total spectrum
- not as a new insight, but as the very water out of which we are born. All
we need to do is immerse ourselves in the silent depths and release our
preconceptions and opinions. This is important. The Sufis say that what
you are looking for, you are looking with. The mind, and, by extension, the
objects of learning are not "out there". Everything, again in a way that
cannot be articulated, exists right here, right now. Part of that "everything"
acts as a reflector of itself, and that part we call the mind. A good analogy is
the surface of water and the way it reflects our image. But when we go
beneath the surface, we are left with the one thing and not the reflection.
Can you do that now? Can you release your ideas about "baptism" as
something done to you? Can you unlearn what you "know" so that you can
see it with an unfurnished eye and perhaps glimpse the reality that it affirms,
that we are not born of flesh and blood, but that we are children of the
Infinite?
Our senses and their cranial counterparts tell us things that the heart cannot
reconcile - that we are separate, that we are different, that we are isolated
and alone. Can we unlearn this? Can the mind realize that it reflects that
which is "above" and that it is not merely an aggregation of sense-born data?
When the mind pulls back the veil and finally knows its origin, it will never
again hold itself separate and apart. It will stand aside and let the Thinker,
the User of the mind, come forth in fullness and in joy to experience the
multifaceted splendor (Indra's necklace) which It has created.
What to Learn
If everything that can be known is already known, and if the word "educate"
means to draw out, then it makes sense that some forms of learning help to
draw out the total spectrum of real knowledge, and some forms actually
get in the way. We have seen through the study of Zen, the mindfullness
teachings of Thich Nat Hahn, and the quiet mind spoken of by Eckhart Tolle
that the vision of unity comes upon us when we let go. As all of these
people will attest, this is easier said than done. Even when we are able to do
this for brief moments, we are quickly pulled back into the thrall of
objective, sensory stimuli. Fortunately, there are systems of thought that are
designed to "activate" the wholeness that forms the foundation of the mind
and thus transform it from within.
Wholeness is a powerful elixir - it knits together the fragments of what we
have "learned", fills in the missing pieces in our knowledge of ourselves and
the world, and eliminates the repetitive and superficial facts that relate to
nothing but themselves. Anything that can spark that wholeness within us
and fan it into flame is worthy of our most careful attention. You might
think that I'm referring to symbols or rituals, and, yes, these can act as
activators, as long as they are intelligently constructed and carried out. But
the Infinite is not a static thing - it is alive. So in order to activate it and
bring it to awareness, the activators have to be alive as well.
How do you have a living symbol? A living symbol must have movement.
It must have a pattern which progresses through tme and space. It cannot
simply repeat itself, because that would be a static condition. It has to have
a sequence, like the notes in a piece of music, before it can animate the
mind. Not only does there have to be a sequence, but the sequence must
have an order to it, like DNA. How does this relate to learning? It relates in
that it not only matters what pieces of information you learn, it also matters
in what order you learn them.
Consider this: we did not lose our vision of unity all at once; it happened
over a long period of time and in a series of interrelated steps. It stands to
reason that the road back will also consist of separate steps, each one
building upon the other. This, of course, is the message of religion - not just
one religion, but all of them. They all have a "program" or a prescribed way
in which to learn their truths. Some religions have a well-defined catechism,
a step by step process for spiritual realization. Others have stories, the
characters and actions of which lead the reader or hearer through a series of
ideas, pictures, and feelings designed to awaken the inner consciousness to
wholeness. If the stories are tampered with, if the elements are changed or
rearranged, the process that the story was designed to activate will be altered
and lose its effectiveness. This drives the fundamentalists of the world to
insist on the integrity of their teachings, which they seek to validate by
interpreting them as literal events. This is no different from societies that
relied on the oral transmission of their mythologies. They had strict rules
about accuracy and even stricter rules about artistic license. Scribes and
storytellers had to toe the line, or they would lose their heads. It's no
wonder that fictional writing took so long to appear on the scene. Stories
were meant to relate eternal truths, and as such had to be well crafted by
those who knew how.
Once the world was interrelated; now it is fragmented. The postmodern view of the world has blown the vision of unity apart. Even
before the modern era, we tended to separate our inner experience from the
outer. In short, we saw ourselves as separate from God. To find our way
back, we need tools of consciousness that catalyze the foundation of
wholeness that lies beneath the surface of our human experience, tools that
peel back the layers of interpretation one at a time, that take us from where
we are and lead us back step by step into our original vision of unity.
The task before us is not to create the correct order of learning (or maybe it
is) but to look at the written traditions that we already have, with an eye for
their elementary concepts and principles, and especially for the sequential
order in which they are presented.
All living organisms have a maturation cycle, the driving information for
which comes in "sets". Humans, for example, have a seven-year cycle of
development, each cycle differing qualitatively from the next. We lose our
baby teeth at the close of the first cycle, come into puberty in the second,
reach the age of majority in the third, and so on. Each cycle has its own
"set" of in-formation. Logic dictates, and intuition confirms, that these
physical cycles, which differ markedly from each other and build one upon
the other are reflections of a process of spiritual maturation; Spirit
gradually reclaims and manifests Itself in the flesh in an intelligent,
sequential order.
The ancient seers and shamans knew and understood these cycles and passed
on their knowledge symbolically within the stories and "historical" accounts
that we now know as scripture and myth. This is not new information.
What is new, or rather what is now being re-revealed, is the knowledge of
the sequential order contained within these symbolic representations.
The Seeming Paradox
It might look like I'm proposing two contradictory models for learning, one
of unlearning and the other of in-depth study and interpretation of sacred
writings. And in fact, when unlearning is complete, there is no longer any
need for study. But the mind is tenacious, and must be persuaded on its own
terms. It can only be turned by degree, and will never let go as long as the
dots of one plane are left unconnected to the dots of the next. This is why
there are stories and myths. Besides, the mind cannot escape its own cycles
of development, and the stories and myths mirror these cycles, adding their
catalyzing images and concepts in order to dress the mind in progressively
finer and finer garments. All of this in preparation, of course, for that high
state of spiritual union wherein garments are no longer needed.