This is the fifteenth chapter of the book „Viveka – the Voice of Inner Guru.“
The whole book will be tokenized as NFTs on Mirror and, as such, published in 20 articles (20 chapters of the book: The Illusion; India, oh India!; The Accurate description of the Reality; The Crown Jewel; Dead Guru; Living student; Who you?; Leaving the room; The Weakness of the Mind; The Archimedean Point; Three Powers of Maya; Viveka - the Sword of Truth; The Cave of the Mind; Language Can Save Us; Searching for Lakshana; Nine Golden Rules of Viveka; Purification Exercises; What to do with all this?; Dealing with Fear; Ekam Evadvityam: Living without a Center).
Chapter Fifteen: Searching for Lakshana
tatastu tau lakṣaṇayā sulakṣyau
tayorakhaṇḍaikarasatvasiddhaye |
nālaṃ jahatyā na tathājahatyā
kintūbhayārthātmikayaiva bhāvyam ||Hence, the two terms are to be correctly understood through their discerning characteristic
so that the absolute identity between them may be established.
Neither the method of accepting all meanings nor rejecting them all will suffice.
One must discover the truth through the process which combines the two.Vivekachudamani 247
The above sutra comes closest to the direct description of the viveka method. That description is hidden inside the context of discerning between the one consciousness (ishwara) and different vantage points created in the first wave of creation (atman). Nevertheless, that instruction is valid for any and all viveka procedures aimed at a correct understanding of the universe of ideas (the world, reality).
Buddhi can apply viveka to any word (idea), using language as the operational field. The task is to discriminate between different words (ideas) and to establish the firm identity of that idea in comparison with any other. To do that, buddhi must find a factor of differentiation, a quality that signifies that by which something is recognized. That quality is called lakshana.
If you think that is an easy task, wait until you try it yourself. Every student of viveka quickly finds out that the way people are thinking (which includes himself) is everything but precise. Our ideas are blurry, to say the least. That means our reality is blurry, too. The communication between people is full of misunderstanding, and rightfully so, because the language we use is full of assumptions about what other people know or think. While communicating, we use complex construction to express our feelings, experiences, or thinking. We have to do it; otherwise, it would be practically impossible to convey any idea larger than a sum of two or three elements. For example, the simple word „car“ would be impossible to understand because it is a complex conceptual and categorical construction. That means, to understand what a car means, you have to have a certain amount of knowledge (about the engines, wheels, roads, and many more) stored in vigjanmayakosha. When you read the word, that knowledge activates itself and enables you to quickly grasp the meaning without going through all the details about what a car actually is.
If you are a fan of J.R.R. Tolkien and his „Lord of The Rings“, you'll probably remember Ents (tree people) and their way of speaking (and thinking). Tolkien was a linguist, and he experimented with different forms of languages, inventing them for the characters of his books. Ents didn't think as we do. They didn't jump over the steps of constructing a particular idea. It was not enough to say „the war“, and quickly rush further. „The war“ is a complex idea. How does it come about? What is happening during the activity described with the word „war“? Are there different kinds of wars (human war, dwarf war, just war, war with the hands or weapons, etc.), and what kind are we speaking about? For the correct pronunciation of such a complex idea, Ents needed a lot of time. Their discussions were going on for days. But, they were slow living beings, much like the trees they cared for, so they could afford such a language. It would be a terrible thing for us, so we are doing it differently and paying the price of blurriness.
There are means for compensation in our language, for example, understanding the true meaning of an idea from the context. That works up to a certain extent but causes its share of misunderstanding. The context is something you perceive or don't. Furthermore, you may deliberately disregard or pull something out of context. You may be mischievous, malicious, or just tired, and you'll invert or lose the true meaning in a flash.
The words we use (the ideas we think), besides direct meaning, often have implied meanings, or they share some parts with other words. Some words have a double meaning, represent something else, have symbolic or transferred meaning, or are synonyms. It is quite a mess in there, in our minds. With such a language, is clear thinking possible at all?
In a moment, I'll attempt to systematize unacceptable ideas according to the meanings they carry. „Unacceptable“ for viveka, of course. For everyday communication and easy-going thinking, those ideas (words, thoughts) are useful and applicable. Well, to be honest, they are useful and applicable also to literature, poetry, philosophy, and any human activity, except for the activity of finding the truth about ourselves and reality.
If your mumukshuta is strong, you'll have to listen to Shankara and find a lakshana for any idea that pops up in your mind. If you don't find it... well, your thinking may be practical and useful, but you are most probably living in a deep illusion.
The search for a lakshana – a discerning quality of an idea that makes it unique compared to any other idea – is the process of purification of the mind required for unveiling the truth and showing Maya her place in the order of things.
Remember that viveka unacceptable language characteristics are necessary for communication and creative thinking. Viveka is not a replacement for what we are doing every day. It is not meant to teach you how to construct new ideas by following the right rules. By the way, that is the function of logic, a much more widely known discipline. By following the laws of logic, you may be sure that your conclusions (new ideas, new constructions) are valid. Viveka is going in the opposite direction: it takes a structure and then deconstructs it into its components, all the way down to the element that is impossible to disassemble further.
Take as many books from philosophy or spirituality and try to see how many of them offer downward movement. You'll quickly see that almost all of them are building a story from the ground up. Usually, they start with an assumption, something they take for granted. Equally often, that assumption is a specific belief or conviction. From that point on, they add elements and construct a complex picture of new ideas. If that is meant to be a manuscript for developing a new set of skills, great, why not! This book is partially written the same way, except it lacks the fundamental belief. The flow of chapters and the meanings they convey form a story. The reason why this book belongs to the rare, different ones lies in an offer of escape out of the story!
If you want to pierce through the veil of illusion and find the place where the mistake is made and how it is that we see something that is not and do not see that what is, well, you'll need an opposite, downward movement. And those movements, like the attempt to start from the „blank slate“ by Descartes, or the direct implementation of viveka by Shankara, are super rare.
Likely, you never read a clear viveka statement. It is also likely that, if you saw it now, written by Shankara or me, you would not recognize it. Your mind is not trained to do that; you'll need to purify it through practice. I am trying to show you the direction you must walk, but walking is entirely yours.
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Viveka unacceptable ideas are those without clear lakshana. They can be systematized into three major categories:
• Allegorical (implied, shared, and double meanings)
• Conceptual constructions
• Categorical construction
Rejection of allegorical, implied, shared, and double meanings is a logical consequence of the first rule of viveka described in previous chapters (The Archimedean Point, chapter 10). The possibility of a doubt (expressed in a word, a sentence, or a phrase) is a good enough reason to reject the particular idea as lakshana. Of course, we use allegories all the time; that's how we communicate. Implied meanings are embedded in the structure of language.
For example, we may poetically say that „the mountain blooms“. The implied meaning is that the plants, flowers, or trees on the mountain are blooming. The mountain itself can not bloom, but we understand the meaning of the expression. Or, we say that „London is a city on the Thames“. The Thames is a river, and cities usually are not on the rivers. What we understand from the expression „London is a city on the Thames“ is that London is a city on the banks of the River Thames. Grammatically speaking, the lakshana of that expression (a city on the banks of a river) is hidden and implied. Our buddhi catches the omitted lakshana, and through it, we understand what was meant by that expression. Good enough for grammatic, but not good enough for viveka. The methodology of viveka requires that the lakshana is clearly visible, without a doubt. According to the usual expression, London may really be on the river, with its houses floating on the pontoons. But, we suppose what was implied, what „everybody knows“ (cities are on the banks, not on rivers), and disregard what was said. For viveka, it is not acceptable. Due to the tight connection or actual identity between words and thoughts, the unclear expression means that the mind is left in doubt. Instead of following a clear line of thinking, the mind is on autopilot. And right then, when the mind is left to patterns of learned behavior, customs, convictions, and prevalent beliefs, the mistake happens. It is easy to overhear what was said – not only from another person but also from inside, from ourselves. Our conclusions become hazy; the whole structure of thinking starts to swing without a fixed resting point.
As I wrote earlier, viveka procedures are not meant for communication. In everyday life, we perceive such behavior as meticulous or even sociopathic. One of the famous sociopaths of our time, Sheldon Copper, a character from the TV show „The Big Bang Theory“, is an excellent example of occasional viveka-orientated communication that makes us laugh. When his handsome neighbor Penny says, „Love is in the air“, Sheldon would look at her reproachingly and explain to her like she was a child that mostly in the air are oxygen and nitrogen molecules made from two atoms of those elements, and some small amounts of argon atoms and carbon dioxide molecules, plus some other gases in traces. Not love. Love can not be in the air.
Well, yes, anyway, despite that, we will continue to use implied and figurative meanings when we want to say something emotional, poetic, or simply human. However, if you're going to use viveka as a procedure to pinpoint where and when your mind makes mistakes in the interpretation of reality, you will have to be very meticulous with words (and thoughts, of course).
So, no implied, hidden, or double meanings in viveka; forget the allegories, metaphors, and figures of speech. That is not viveka acceptable, but it doesn't mean that you should not write that book of poems you have been thinking about for many years. If you do that, fine, but separate the creative process from the deconstructive actions of viveka. You'll see that, despite looking cold at first sight, viveka thinking can be fun, much like Sheldon's interventions in the behavior of more ordinary humans.
But, I must warn you that giving up allegorical thinking is a more accessible part of the necessary purification of the mind. Getting rid of categorical and conceptual construction is a big viveka fish! You'll need some time and practice to master that skill. But, when you learn it, you are mostly done and ready (remember the verse 184: „When the mind is purified, liberation is as easy of access as a fruit in the palm of one’s hand.“).
Let's look now at the big monsters swimming in the dark waters of our minds.
To build knowledge and understanding of the universe of ideas that surrounds us, in our language, we use both category and conceptual constructions. Without them, our language would be like the slow language of the Ents, or it would not exist at all. However, it is because of that feature that our mind makes mistakes by misinterpreting and consequently projecting the false reality. The mechanic of Maya is the mechanic of building the constructions of language (thinking), and the mechanic of viveka is the mechanic of deconstruction of the ideas formed in the mind so that the mistakes can be identified and corrected.
Let me give you an example of a simple everyday experience, which in the eyes of viveka, turns out to be a very complex structure. Imagine a car in the parking slot in front of the building. I call you to the window and ask you to look and tell me what you see. Your answer is simple: „I see a car in the parking slot in front of a building“. Is that an accurate description of your experience? Well, for everyday purposes, it is. Everyone is familiar with all ideas involved (a car, parking, building, and the experience of a sight), so there is no reason why should be any doubt about what you saw. Right?
No. Not right. If I were your viveka mentor in some ancient times and had a stick in my hand, I would bash your back with it because you are not listening. We are looking for a lakshana, and you are playing dumb. Lakshana does not tolerate any doubt, and there is a lot of uncertainty in your simple report about what you see through the window. Let just focus on a car.
Is the expression „a car“ really a lakshana, a discerning quality of the object on the parking slot? Of course, it's not!
I could ask you: „What kind of car?“
You could naively answer: „A red car“, and earn another punch with a stick.
„Do you know how many red cars are around? And, by the way, what kind of red? Ruby red? Ferrari red? Carlet, crimson, cerise, magenta, maroon, carmine, claret, burgundy, or maybe carnelian or cardinal red?“
„I think... it is...“ you could start answering, but I would stop you with another stick stroke.
„It doesn't matter. I asked you what kind of car it is, not what color.“
„O, that! It is a sedan, a large one, the manufacturer is...“
„O, stop it, you lousy student of viveka! You are just making a mistake after a mistake, trying to define the experience with constructions. You lost lakshana from the beginning, and it seems you can not find it. Didn't you learn anything by now?“
One more bash with a stick.
All right, don't worry, this is just an imagined situation. You are not a real student of viveka yet, and if you were, I would not use a stick to teach you a lesson. At least not a stick made from wood or something. I could use some harsh words to wake you up, that's true, but let's leave that for the moment; we'll have an actual viveka conversation, shall we?
The point is that the simple word „car“ is both a category and conceptual construction. Yes, both.
Category construction is a superset of specific ideas in the same category. „A car“ is a superset of many smaller sets, like red cars (by color) or SUVs (by functions), and all other characteristics by which the cars can be classified. You may ask what does it matter – it is still a car in the parking slot, right? Right, it is, and it doesn't matter for everyday communication. But it matters a lot for viveka! The search for lakshana is not even begun if you use the word (a though, or an idea) such as „a car“.
Imagine what happens when you search for a lakshana of some inner experiences, like, for example, „love“? Who cares about the car but love? Or more subtle, eternal ideas which you'll find in the depths of your mind and consciousness? That will be the real challenge. To be ready for it, you must first purify your mind on the easy stuff, like cars, parking slots, rivers, and other seemingly inanimate objects you experience. Because, when you come to the hard ones, you'll need a sharp scalpel of viveka. If you are not ready, you'll be lost in a second. The hazy, lazy, comfortable, gross, unprecise, and utterly misguided way untrained mind functions will just create additional confusion. The result will be that you'll give up before you start. So, better pay attention from the beginning.
„A car“ is also a conceptual construction. Conceptual constructions are ideas for which you need other ideas to understand. Despite looking ordinary and straightforward, the idea of „a car“ is a complex construction. You need to know many things, to understand what the word „car“ means. Don't believe it? Imagine that you have to explain what is „a car“ to a person from the second century BC. What would you say? How would you describe the engine? Weels – well, that should be known then - but tires? If you go back in history further enough, you'll have a problem explaining the idea of a road! „A car“ is quite high on the hierarchy of constructions dependent on knowing and understanding many other ideas.
To spear you from doing the homework (it's not an efficient method for learning viveka, but this is a book, and I have to compromise), I made a deconstruction graph of an idea of „a car“. Take a look.
Yes, all that, and probably many more ideas, have to inhabit your mind for you to be able to understand the word „car“. Some of those ideas are located and created by vigjnanmayakosha, the body of knowledge. For example, you learned what oil is and how the engine functions. But, there are other ideas that are the result of a perception: circle, movement, distance... It is arguable that such ideas belong to the „divine network“ and needn't be learned. And the fundamental concepts, like time, space, reality, or existence, definitely belong to the most delicate structure of reality. All that should be in your mind if the language and thoughts are to be efficient in transferring meanings and creating experiences. You are not aware of that, of course. You don't think about the idea of a time when you utter the ordinary word such as „a car“, but it is there, nonetheless.
I'll write some more about this graph in the next chapter. In the meantime, you can spend some time studying it. Try to see how one idea leads to another and why lower ideas are necessary for understanding the upper. Maybe you can add some other ideas and make the deconstruction graph more complete. That would be a helpful exercise because what I have done is just a quick sketch to give you a first insight into the nature of conceptual constructions.
What's happening in our minds is a miracle of complexity. And it is just a car. Again, imagine „love“, or abstract ideas like „tolerance“ or „purpose“. You'll need a lot of viveka practice before trying to deconstruct such hard nuts. And, you should know, there is no warranty that you'll not break your mental teets on them.
Viveka is the method of differentiation of ideas. It answers the questions of which ideas are simple and straightforward and which are complex constructions. Also, viveka deals with definitions of ideas by finding their lakshanas. Here is (large and vivid) the definition of viveka answer to any question:
At first sight, it may seem all ideas are categoric or conceptual constructions, but that is incorrect. Further, there are certain levels of precision applicable to different categories of objects. That means the minimal usage of construction is sometimes allowed, not by rules, but by the nature of the idea we want to deconstruct.
And, you should know, some ideas are very near to being pure and undividable. And some are literarily undividable because they are the essential elements – real atoms – of our reality.
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Next Chapter: Nine Golden Rules of Viveka