MEDITATING SELFLESSLY

This most remarkable book is the jewel in the crown of James Austin's series of books describing the relationship between Zen meditation and practice and changes in brain function. The three other books on this topic, Zen and the Brain, Zen Brain Reflections, and Selfless Insight, are all steps along the path leading up to Meditating Selflessly, and are important companions to this volume, which has references to them throughout and is a treasure trove of both science and experience. Together these books chart Jim's progress from the straight neurologist who practised Zen to the mature Zen student who has experienced kensho and who shows in his personality the positive changes that Zen can bring. Meditating Selflessly is a practical guide that leans heavily on Jim's own experience of practising Zen and is full of tips and anecdotes to keep you alert and your practice invigorated on the cushion. It starts by asking the question What is meditation, what is Zen? The opening quotation, from Zen Master Tai Zan Maezumi, "Taste as much of this as you can/ Swallow what you need and spit out the rest," sets a practical note for the book, and adds "Be even and balanced in your attentiveness, becoming attuned to the inherent quality of all things." As Zen Master Dito Kokushi said "Time flies like an arrow, so be careful not to waste energy on trivial matters. Be attentive! Be attentive!" Jim points out that for millennia that Zen meditation, indeed, all meditation, has been tested and found useful in many different cultures. He describes the two main modes of attentiveness which are important in the practice of Zen: one to the external world, that which is out there, and the other to the internal world of the self, which is us. Each mode of attentiveness is underpinned by its own neurological system; the external system by allocentric networks and the inner systems by the egocentric networks. The aim of Zen, although it seems churlish to give this away so early in the review, is that the refined attentiveness of meditation reduces the function of the egocentric system so that objective selfless allocentric perception can arise in the clear pristine bare awareness of Kensho. The egocentric system conducts messages from the upper part of the occipital lobe, through the parietal lobe, which then leap forward into the upper frontal regions. This is the dorsal stream of information and is action-orientated. The trajectory of this system implies that every top-down form of attentive processing (actions initiated by the ego) can easily link into the nearby circuits that represent our own personal physical self. He warns us to be careful not to overuse this system as it may come to dominate our perception of the world in our action-orientated lives. He points out that this system comes fully into action when our eyes look down and this has consequences for how we look when we meditate. The allocentric system is a 'bottom-up' pathway. This uses the ventral system in the brain and is organised to asks two 'What' questions – what is it, and what does it mean? In this dual role it first uses pattern recognition functions to identify objects, particularly when they are unfamiliar, while simultaneously parallel circuits are starting to interpret what such items mean, they are even beginning to infuse values into what they interpret as existing out there. This allocentric system follows a lower course through the brain. The impulses from the lower occipital lobe (upper visual field) pass down through the temporal lobe and forward into the lower frontal regions. These involve our visual and auditory senses, which contribute in a major way to our other referential associations. Jim stresses that the self/other, ego/allo distinction is fundamental, as the difference between self-centred and other-centred processing is crucial to Zen. He goes on to point out that the covert progress made during meditation is in the bottom-up allocentric networks which silently change over the years until finally they burst into independent bloom in the selfless experience of bare awareness which is Kensho. This gradual letting-go of the self is summed up by Suzuki-Roshi "When there is no self you have absolute freedom. Because you have a silly idea of self you have a lot of problems." There two complementary categories of meditation. Concentrated meditation,, more focused and exclusive, a choosing to pay attention; and receptive meditation, a more effortless sustained attention, unfocused and inclusive, a bare choiceless awareness. In the first we are in charge and it is inherently self-referential, whereas the receptive mode of meditation is more nuanced. It is more difficult to understand because it is entered more passively. It requires minimal or zero degrees of personal effort, and finally this anonymous awareness taps increasingly into hidden subconscious resources. Jim warns that you should not overbalance one form of meditation against the other. After meditating for some time, you may encounter a moment of blissful absorption and Jim underscores the important point always made by competent meditation teachers that you should not "cling to the notion that an episode of blissful absorption means you are 'enlightened'." Jim includes a section on meditating outdoors, and introduces this with another quote by Suzuki "I don't know anything about consciousness. I just try to teach my students how to hear the birds sing." Jim notes that brains did not evolve indoors and so when we commune with nature we return to our most basic awareness. One of the most useful chapters in the book gives very precise instructions about how to meditate and attend, and deals explicitly with work indoors on the cushion. Read this chapter with care, so that you can extract maximum benefit from meditating selflessly. It begins with instructions on how to sit on the cushion, back and legs straight, gaze tilted down at about 45 degrees so as to focus on a discrete spot in front of you. Next (joy and delight) you are told that your legs should assume their usual posture, adopting a position that you can maintain without unusual discomfort. Jim is a realist and acknowledges that we all have different physical requirements. There is no mention of a three-line whip to maintain a full lotus or even a half lotus. What is important is to keep the back straight, chin down, head back, as though a steel rod extends straight down your spine into the centre of the earth and up high into the sky. He discusses the subtlety of the in-breath and the out-breath, saying 'just' on the in-breath and 'one' on the out-breath, up to ten and then repeating this. This can be varied by saying 'this one' or 'just this', which I find particularly helpful. Don't be trapped in a fixed posture. Experiment by opening up your hands and your arms. He gives specific instructions about letting the eyes wander slowly upwards so that the visual world is excluded to some extent by the upper lids. This provides a period of rest for the lower visual pathways, the important allocentric system. He does however say that before you start looking out and up you need to be become practised in the more focused looking down.