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Archive for June 10th, 2019

Four years ago, after a summer school workshop exploring the Universal House of Justice’s text Century of Light, I described some of the fruits of that exploration. For reasons I’ll explain in a moment, I have recently discovered another powerful aspect of this to which I had not given proper attention.

Prior to explaining exactly what this insight was and what triggered it, I need to briefly revisit my earlier sense of the matter,

Social Reality

We had looked at some of the obstacles that stand in the way of our full appreciation of reality, first as individuals and then as groups. Bahá’u’lláh writes (Tablets of Bahá’u’lláh Haifa 1978: page 58):

People for the most part delight in superstitions. They regard a single drop of the sea of delusion as preferable to an ocean of certitude. By holding fast unto names they deprive themselves of the inner reality and by clinging to vain imaginings they are kept back from the Dayspring of heavenly signs.

Given the hidden nature of spiritual reality and our freedom to choose what we believe or seek to teach others to believe, there is also therefore the immense power of social influence at work on what we experience and how we experience it.

Given that I couldn’t possibly reproduce here the complex flow of our consultation as we grappled with this issue, I pulled in quotations that cover much the same ground.

There are two thinkers who have shaped my perspective about this, which of course is an example of how culture works: these are Paul Lample and Charles Tart. A Bahá’í writer, Paul Lample, has written illuminatingly on this theme. I will move between the two of them as I explore their thinking. Tart’s views I have already explored at some length on this blog so I will spend more time on Lample’s as explained in Revelation and Social Reality.

Before I plunge into the depths, it is perhaps important to share the distinction Lample explores early on between two types of reality, a distinction that is of central importance to our understanding of human nature (page 7):

We can understand this special role of humanity by noting that most of what we perceive to be reality – the world with which we interact every day – is not physical reality at all. It is social reality. . . . Social reality mediates our engagement with the world, physical and spiritual, and it is this reality that we have the capacity to create anew.

He quotes from John Searle’s The Construction of Social Reality to unpack the distinction he wishes to make (ibid):

In a sense, there are things that exist only because we believe them to exist. I am thinking of things like money, property, governments, and marriages. Yet many facts regarding these things are “objective” facts in the sense that they are not a matter of your or my preferences, evaluations, or moral attitudes. I am thinking of such facts as that I am a citizen of the United States, that the piece of paper in my pocket is a five dollar bill, etc. . . . These contrast with such facts as that Mount Everest has snow and ice near the summit… which are facts totally independent of any human opinions.

Of course, Searle continues (page 8), ‘in order to state a brute fact we require the institution of language, but the fact stated needs to be distinguished from the statement of it.’

‘Abdu’l-Bahá eloquently explains exactly what this means in a spiritual terms (Promulgation of Universal Peace (PUP) Wilmette 1982 pages 421-422):

When we consider the world of existence, we find that the essential reality underlying any given phenomenon is unknown. Phenomenal, or created, things are known to us only by their attributes. Man discerns only manifestations, or attributes, of objects, while the identity, or reality, of them remains hidden. For example, we call this object a flower. What do we understand by this name and title? We understand that the qualities appertaining to this organism are perceptible to us, but the intrinsic elemental reality, or identity, of it remains unknown. Its external appearance and manifest attributes are knowable; but the inner being, the underlying reality or intrinsic identity, is still beyond the ken and perception of our human powers. Inasmuch as the realities of material phenomena are impenetrable and unknowable and are only apprehended through their properties or qualities, how much more this is true concerning the reality of Divinity, that holy essential reality which transcends the plane and grasp of mind and man?

Even before we consider the role of names in clouding reality, we have to accept that our senses are quite limited in the way they represent the world to our consciousness, even at a material level. We see wavelengths of potentially particulate light as colours, and combinations of atoms composed mostly of empty space as densely solid objects. In a sense not only is our social reality a simulation: our perception of the physical world is also. It has evolved simply to maximise our chances of survival, not to penetrate the surface to reach the inner reality.

Lample continues (ibid:)

Searle notes that the structure of social reality has a tremendous complexity. A simple visit to a restaurant as a reality that include immediately visible aspects, including the social meaning of ‘money,’ ‘waiter,’ ‘restaurant,’ ‘chair,’ and invisible, underlying aspects such as the concept of employment, an economic system, an agricultural system, and government regulations. There is also a normative dimension of social reality, in that the waiter can be rude or polite, the food unsatisfying or delicious.

There is an important corollary here (ibid:)

Searle observed that the entire structure of social reality is taken for granted by individuals, who are brought up in a culture that conveys social facts in the same way it presents rocks or trees.

Charles Tart

In his book Waking Up, Tart seems to be dealing with this same aspect (page 85): ‘normal consciousness will be referred to as consensus trance; the hypnotist will be personified as the culture. The “subject,” the person subjected to this process, is you.’

In a way that parallels Bahá’u’lláh’s ‘veils’ of delusion and superstition, Tart sees consensus consciousness as on a disturbing continuum (page 102): ‘We can view illusions and hallucinations as extreme points on the continuum of simulation of the world.’

He doesn’t give us much room to wriggle off the hook here. The state of mind he goes onto to describe is not an enviable one (page 95):

. . . . consensus trance is expected to be permanentrather than merely an interesting experience that is strictly time-limited. The mental, emotional, and physical habits of a lifetime are laid down while we are especially vulnerable and suggestible as children. Many of these habits are not just learned but conditioned; that is, they have that compulsive quality that conditioning has.

Even so, Lample sees us very much as agents in the creation of our world view (Revelation & Social Reality– page 6): ‘Human beings are not passive observers of reality and our personal reality, our thought, is not simply imposed upon us.’

Lample none the less plausibly contends that (ibid) ‘In a very specific way we may consider ourselves – collectively – as co-creators of reality, for through the power of the human mind and our interactions, the world undergoes continued transformation.’

He illustrates the kind of factor that can trigger such transformations (page 8):

When the fundamental agreements which frame belief and behaviour change, social reality will change, as in the case of the dramatic collapse of communism in countries across Europe and Asia in a matter of months around 1990, after being a commanding presence that dominated the lives of hundreds of millions for over a half century.

He concludes, in terms which acknowledge Tart’s sense that we are shaped by as well as being shapers of social reality, that (page 10) ‘. . . Social reality is not static; it is mutable. It forms us, but because it owes its existence to common human understanding, we have the power to contribute to reshaping it.’

Metaphor:

I have long been aware of the link between dreams, poetry and other forms of creativity, a link that many writers acknowledge and which has a function in reshaping consciousness.

The link with poetry is not straightforward, as Charles Rycroft points out in a passage quoted by Krippner et al in the book, Extraordinary Dreams and How to Work with Them (page15): ‘if dreams are poetry, they are incomplete poems.’

Montague Ulmman, in Working with Dreams,the book he co-authored with Nan Zimmerman, expands on this (page 73) when he speaks of ‘those qualities a dream has in common with art, especially with the art form which relies heavily on metaphor: poetry.’ He spells out where the incompleteness of dreams as poetry exactly resides (page 80):

. . .whereas the poet is addressing himself to an audience outside himself, the dream is a private communication intended to be personally, not universally, meaningful.’

It is still of value, of course, for the dreamer to treat his dreams like poetry, and Ullman clearly sees the metaphorical value as worthy of exploration before plunging into the associations, which he feels (page 97) rather serve to integrate ‘metaphors into the waking context.’

Ole Vedfelt’s book A Guide to the World of Dreams resonates with me when he writes (page 54-55): in dreams, metaphors ‘may appear much more literally and visibly to the dreamer, consciousness is so totally immersed in the metaphors. . . . It may be illuminating to view symbols and metaphors as poetry… They interact with the receiver’s intuition…’

That may not be as simple as it sounds. He digs somewhat deeper. He goes on to say ‘when I use the term symbol in connection with dreams, I am also referring to a more complex and inscrutable meaning, such as when Jung (Man and his Symbols 1964, p. 20) writes that symbols have “an unconscious aspect, which is never precisely defined nor fully explained.”’

The opening sentence to this chapter was particularly resonant for me, given the spiritual emphasis I tend to give to dreams (page 53): ‘A prerequisite for all dream interpretation is an understanding that dreams live in a world of symbols where wind and weather, plants, animals and objects can all be expressions of qualities of the soul.’

Approaches such as these have influenced my approach to dreams almost since my dreamwork began.

However, for someone who claims to be so keen on poetry and who has used metaphors to help raise his consciousness, I realise now that for most of my life I have discounted the importance of metaphor in society as a whole. It is only since resuming a close examination of my dreams and the idea of dreamwork in general, including the reading of related texts, have I woken up more fully to the pervasive power of metaphor, a power that may be either constructive or destructive.

A key book on the power of metaphor has been Metaphors We Live By, by George Lakoff and Mark Johnson. I only discovered it this year and it has widened the scope of my understanding about the role of metaphor in culture.

Their basic tenet may sound improbably radical on first hearing (page 3):

If we are right in suggesting that our conceptual system is largely metaphorical, then the way we think, what we experience, and what we do every day is very much a matter of metaphor.

They amplify further (page 6) by saying ‘we shall argue that… human thought processes are largely metaphorical.’

They give persuasive basic examples to illustrate our pervasive and unquestioning use of metaphor such as equating time with money, argument with war and the mind with a machine or brittle object. A moment’s reflection should be enough to confirm to us from our own experience the truth of that.

More on that in the next post on Thursday.

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