In Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind, Shunryu Suzuki uses two conceptual metaphors to
describe the mental formations that arise across the surface of emptiness--mind weeds and mind waves.
Mind waves are sensations that momentarily
disturb the calmness of the mind, but these sensations are not distinct from
the mind. Instead, the waves are mind-generated: “Even
though waves arise, the essence of your mind is pure; it is just like clear
water with a few waves. Actually water always has waves. Waves are the practice
of the water. To speak of waves apart from water or water apart from waves is a
delusion."
Mind waves connect to the Buddhist concept of emptiness
in that the arrival of a mind wave in a meditator’s mind indicates that she may
be treating the external world as something with independent rather than
dependent origination, as something separate from herself to which she is
reacting—and therefore as a discrete, static, permanent entity. Mind waves
therefore provide opportunity to reengage with formlessness and overcome
binaries. As Suzuki explains, “If your mind is related to something outside
itself, that mind is a small mind, a limited mind. If your mind is not related
to anything else, then there is no dualistic understanding in the activity of
your mind."
While mind waves are like disturbances in a calm mind during
meditation, mind weeds are difficulties that arise in a person’s meditation
practice. Mind weeds are like cognitive dandelions: they invariably happen, but
the important point is that mind weeds when pulled out and examined can be used
to fertilize mindfulness practice. Suzuki advises, “We pull the weeds and bury them near the plant to
give it nourishment… So you should not be bothered by your mind. You should
rather be grateful for the weeds, because eventually they will enrich your
practice."
I need to emphasize the importance of an accepting stance
toward both mind waves and mind weeds: in a mindfulness practice for writing, they should
be treated as equal to possible content for a piece of writing, nothing more, nothing less.
Like dandelions, mind weeds and waves are ubiquitous and hardy—so encounters with them are inevitable. Actual dandelions could
be said to be pretty—dabs of highlighter yellow across an otherwise monotone lawn—and
categorizing them as nuisances is a matter of perspective. This sort
of value judgement—applied to cognitive rather than floral weeds—needs to be
monitored since it could well contain product overemphasis for writers.
By
studying mind waves and weeds with a detached mind, the meditation practitioner
can gain insight into habits, obsessions, delusions, and so forth. It’s these very mind weeds and waves that put a
mindfulness practitioner at the crossroads: depending on how weeds and waves
are handled, suffering or release from suffering ensues. A cycle can
ensue in which mind waves lead to more mind weeds and vice versa, and soo for
instance a writer may grow a mind wave that is an emotional reaction to a
preconception.
For writers, mind weeds are the
assumptions and judgements that arise via intrapersonal rhetoric during writing
practice about the emerging text as well as about the rhetorical situation. Mind waves, on the other hand, are affective responses to both of those matters. Mind weeds are lapses in critical thinking; mind waves are emotional and
physical responses to something in the writing situation.
Essentially, mind
weeds and waves function as rhetorical constraints, in Lloyd Bitzer’s original
sense, in their effect and in their source—with a slight difference. I would like to highlight how mind waves and weeds are mind-made and a result of
intrapersonal dialog. Whereas rhetorical constraints largely concern events
and matters external to the writer (in Bitzer's theory) and to which the writer must respond, mind
waves and weeds do not distinguish between self and other, interior
and exterior, since it’s all undifferentiated emptiness. For instance, Bitzer mentions constraints “given by situation” such as “beliefs, attitudes, documents, facts, traditions, images, interests, motives and the like” which originate externally to the writer and which his discourse “harnesses."
Bitzer adds a second type of rhetorical constraint,
one that originates in the writer who, when he “enters the situation, his
discourse not only harnesses constraints given by situation but provides
additional important constraints—for example his personal character, his
logical proofs, and his style." These writer-provided constraints, I would
qualify, are not static qualities (personal character) imported into the writing
situation but are also manufactured by the writer’s ongoing intrapersonal
dialog or monkey mind.
Mind waves and mind weeds are generated by
intrapersonal dialog. Both are mind-made.
Just as a meditator gains insights into
his or her tendencies, obsessions, compulsions, etc. from seated meditation,
the same is the case with writing: we might be surprised by the concoction of
rhetorical factors inside us. For example, even a seasoned and published writer
could be taken back by how he is framing a current book project, noting that
every third thought discourages or presupposes an unwelcome outcome. A student
may believe she is generally unhappy about needing to revise an essay, but upon
closer inspection finds that the content of her intrapersonal conversations
reveals a more subtle mix of curiosity and trepidation.
* image from alchemyindesign
No comments:
Post a Comment