Re: organism and identity re: maria luisa
> > > > > > Hi, Maria Luisa, I have no bones (tee hee) with yourWhy be sorry, Maria Luisa? Let's look at this again..
> > > > > > words, except that I did want to point out that the body
> > > > > > organism is part of the identity and part of what may be
> > > > > > protected.
> > > > > >
> > > > > > To stop and observe reactions to threats
> > > > > > we typically ascribe to 'being of the mind'
> > > > > > and thus only 'threats to identity',
> > > > > > will reveal that these 'threats to identity'
> > > > > > correspond integrally with 'threats to the body'.
> > > > > > The converse is also observable.
> > > > > >
> > > > > > Nina
> > > > >
> > > > > YES NINA,
> > > > > BUT HAVE YOU SOMEHOW KNOWN OR NOTICED THAT EVEN
> > > > > THE BODY ORGANISM IS ANOTHER PROJECTION OF MIND?
> > > > > IT'S AS UNGRASPABLE AS ANYTHING ELSE
> > > > > ONCE UNDERSTOOD AS A COMPOUND OF PERCEPTIONS
> > > > > (VIA THE FIVE SENSES).
> > > > > I THINK WE ARE TRAPPED IN THE FIVE SENSES
> > > > > MORE THAN WE ACCEPT IT.
> > > > >
> > > > > LOVE,
> > > > > ML
> > Hello, Maria Luisa,
> > I'm not entirely comfortable with the word 'projection'
> > as you have used it, but I'll go along with it:
> > Agreed, that the body organism is a projection of mind.
> > However, mind is also a projection of the body organism.
> > The two feed each other, and are united in that feeding.
> > It's another chicken and egg story.
> > The mind speaks in thoughts, the body in sensation.
> > Thoughts and sensations are both expressions of stimulation.
> > Where does the stimulation come from?
> > What prompts a thought or a sensation to arise?
> > Nina
> No Nina,
> sorry, sorry, but no.
> There is the Self or Consciousness,
> the basis, the substratum.
> From the Self or Consciousness
> the first cognition, "I", arises.
> "I" is the first thing for any other thought to arise,
> the thought of a body, the thought of a world,
> the thought of a me in the world, etc.
> This thoughts are what i term as MIND.
> Mind is thought, and thought does not come from a body,
> it comes from Consciousness.
> Stimulations are responses to accumulated memories,
> (ask Gene about samskaras, or tendencies).
> Thoughts arise spontaneously, they get an order by their own,
> ones come first, others come afterwards, time is created.
> maria luisa
What is required, for the "I" thought to arise?
Allow me to put forth,
that the "I" thought is a complex thought
that is not simple differentiation
of "me" from "Consciousness",
differentiation of "me" from
a datum which exists prior to the "I" thought.
What is required, for a newborn
to come into the "I" thought?
In other words,
what is this datum that must exist prior to the "I" thought?
Allow me to put forth,
that the newly conceived human
has no sense of "I" prior to birth,
there is a vast, timeless undifferentiated being.
There forms a body, through mytosis,
which is the splitting and differentiation of cells.
Has the "I" thought arisen in the mind of the newly conceived?
No, but it has arisen in the body of the newly conceived.
One cell declares, "I am a liver cell."
The next declares, "I am a muscle cell."
The newly conceived human, however, has no "I" sense.
Duality, however, is working its way up
through the newly conceived's cells,
waiting for the pieces to be put in place
and for the quickening to build
to the moment where the newborn is propelled
into a most profound experience of
mytosis: that of birth, the rending of
the newly conceived from union with the mother.
A newly conceived human, has no sense
of 'void/form', 'push/pull', 'up/down', 'light/dark', etc.
as the newly conceived human has not yet
experienced these dualities. A newborn, however,
rapidly assimilates these experiences, which
register as profound realizations, obscuring
the void of prebirth.
It is in the rapid assimilation of these experiences
of difference, that the "I" sense begins to form,
from most simple to the most complex.
It is through the body that these experiences are had,
and it is through the body, that the mind
forms the original sense of "I".
Samskaras are nothing but accumulations of
experiences of difference. It may be seen
that the root of samskara is found in our
cellular function, in the dynamics of birth,
and in the flurry of realizations immediately
It is only later, when the original moment of
the arising "I" thought is completely lost,
that it seems that "I" have always been present,
that "I" is the first thought that arises.
By this time, the "I" thought is so well-ingrained
as to its purpose, the perpetuation of the "I",
that it has convinced us, that there is nothing but "I"
as the source of thought.
It might be said, that the "I" awareness percolates
from the bottom up, from the cells into the mind,
which is only the most superficial, graspable
sheath of millions of functions within the bodymind.
You have no doubt heard, in your study of yoga,
that the mind is a sense organ. The body is an
integral part of that sensing. Without the body,
without the living breath, the mind has no ground,
and so, dissolves. Where does your thinking mind
go upon death? Back into the void.
There can be no thinking mind without the body.
Likewise, body does not exist without some form of
thinking mind. They are an inseparable siamese twin,
saying "I" am not "you", but at the same time,
sharing the most vital of organs and fluids.
Do you see here, I am not speaking of "thoughts of
the body" or "thoughts of the mind", but rather,
about a functional relationship between body and mind?
I am also pointing to the origins of this relationship,
from a place where sensation in the body comes into being
at the same time that thought in the mind comes into being.
We may never understand how it is that the origination
of all this arising was stimulated. We must go way back
to find this, well before the arising of my "I" thought,
well before the arising of my cellular division, and that
of my ancestors, and the world that bore my ancestors.
It is the epic tale of genesis - and that is the truly
ungraspable piece, beyond imagination, beyond thinking.
You let me know if this isn't a simple enough. ;)
- --- In firstname.lastname@example.org, "Nina" <murrkis@y...> wrote:
> > > When the inspiration fails, it is no worse thanNina, you just made my day
> > > a sandcastle being washed away by the beach tide.
> > > Tomorrow, I build another sandcastle.
> > >
> > > The thing is, I do know that at any time, I could
> > > let go of the sandcastle building... but why?
> > > Maybe you know why and would share the why...
> > SG: one perhaps builds sandcastles until there is no longer
> > an attachment to building and creating a structured form ......
> > Inspirations may be wrapped up in sandcastles .....
> > perhaps at that point one simply creates them out of the joy of
> > the moment..... not expecting them to last but simply for the
> > beauty and joy of spontaneous art and motion which flows from
> > the Bliss of Being here now in this place in this moment .......
> > it needs not carry behind it some representation or hidden
> > meaning it simply is as it is Beautiful and sacred within it's own
> > right.......
> > then as in all things (this creation of the moment) simply falls
> > away so that another image may take its place
> > First one goes beyond the transient unfolding play before it is
> > fully understood and appreciated for what it is ....... then one
> > steps back into the lila and play simply Enjoying that lila as an
> > expression of Infinite Love in motion........
> > Formless or Form it is the same Essense
> > minus the distinguishing factors .....
> > SG: hahahahaha perhaps so .... everything proceeds from
> > Source and returns to Source in some manner......
> > Infinite Love
> 1. There are pictures of this sandcastle building: faded square
> photographs with radiused corners, the blues and greens and sand
> colors of photographs from that time, the reds always slightly
> pungent, as if the pigment were wired and erratic, unsure of its
> place in the film. There we are, squatting in the sand: my blond-
> haired mother, sitting aside, arm around the barrel-chest of the
> small grey dog; my father and a very small I sitting together,
> scraping sand into forms. What the photograph barely hints at is the
> joy of building that sandcastle, part enjoyment of the sand and
> water, part thrill and satisfaction of building it with my father.
> What the photograph doesn't contain is what came later. After
> building it, I felt so much happiness and pride; we played in the
> water, and I kept looking back to see that sandcastle sitting before
> the waves. Then the two boys came, stepping into the sandcastle,
> crushing it. I cried salt tears to the sea, inconsolable, and unable
> to explain or even understand that the greatest loss was not the
> sandcastle, but what the sandcastle represented.
> 2. We like to go early to the beach, before the beach patrol comes on
> line, and let our dogs run off leash. One morning, on the way back,
> we are walking close to the dunes, past a sandcastle left above the
> tide line. One of the dogs stalks the sandcastle, circling it,
> sniffing it carefully, as if the castle might move. She notes the
> hollow center of the castle, and daintily scratches it with one paw,
> once, twice. Moving within the hollow, she begins to dig, throwing
> large arcs of sand beneath and behind her, very efficiently deepening
> the hollow. Sufficiently inspired, she leaps from the castle, and
> runs circles on the beach. She is amazing, lean muscle and arching
> back, her earth-pounding feet carrying her so close to us on her
> returns that her breath is heard and wake is felt.
> 3. After the walk, I remain on the beach after the others return
> home. The sun is coming up, pink and orange, and the sky is humid and
> a thick blue-grey. The moon is still out, and a few stars, but are
> gradually fading in a sky that is approaching their brilliance. I
> stand within the laps of the waves, and look out to the rocking
> shrimp boats, and the long, thin horizon beyond. With each receding
> wave, the water draws sand from beneath the edges of my feet.
> Eventually, I am balancing on two pyramids beneath my arches. I find
> that if I am not perfectly balanced through the soles of my feet as
> these pyramids form, that eventually I must cling to the tops of the
> pyramids with the muscles of my legs, lest my feet slide from the
> pyramids. I stand for a long while like this, trying on new pyramids,
> learning as a matter of course what it is to be perfectly balanced
> within my soles, and how transparent and effortless that feels,
> watching the night suns recede as I am warmed by the heat advancing
> in the eastern sky. At some point, the shrimp boats disappear, and I
> take that as my cue to leave.
> Thanks for your letter, SG.