Two Worlds

Rodin-The-ThinkerI seem to live in two worlds. One that might be called my “inner world” consists of my private thoughts, emotions, images, and sensations. The other which appears to me as an “outer world” is a shared world that consists of other beings (those who seem to possess an inner world) and objects (things that do not seem to possess an inner world). These two worlds make up my universe; nothing else exists…for me.

The interplay between these two worlds is complex. Much of what could be said to exist in my outer world, exists only in my inner world. For example, I have never been to Africa, so I have never experienced it in my outer world, I have never touched it, seen it, heard it, tasted it, or smelled it. The continent of Africa is an outer world shared by over one billion people that for me, exists only in my inner world through second hand experiences.

neo-wakes-upMy office, where I sit now, exists in my outer and inner world. My inner world, ostensibly fed by the “actual” outer world through my senses, makes my office appear to me as a part of my outer world. It seems real, but how do I know for certain what is real? The philosophical position of solipsism holds that the “outer world” cannot be known. Extreme forms of solipsism deny any outer world, which includes all the other inner worlds. The plot of the science fiction film “The Matrix,” plays with the concept that the outer world is constructed by the mind. The Matrix, a designed outer world, is a complex computer program which humans directly interface with through ports connected to their brains. The humans in the Matrix experience an outer world that does not really exist “out there.”

Chaplin.mirrorDebates about the nature of the outer world are not only happening in philosophy and science fiction, but increasingly in the scientific community. Thinking about the “realness” of my outer world can twist my mind in a Gordian Knot if I am not careful. Yet, I must also take heed of the other extreme, namely over-belief in the outer world. Questioning the outer worlds’ existence generally comes from an intellectual position, not an experiential one. Experientially, the outer world feels certain. Much of my inner world does too. I tend to believe my thoughts and interpretations. Certainty feels good, and these feelings are often necessary for survival — doubting the realness of the world is not a trait that will likely contribute to many descendants.

We crave certainty in both of our worlds; so much that we fight for it when someone challenges our sense of it. While we like suspense, surprise, and mystery, we do not like to sit with these feelings indefinitely. We ultimately want resolution; we want certainty. This can drive us in positive ways to understand our experience, and to use that understanding to improve our existence. But, this craving for certainty has the potential to destroy us. We see evidence of this in political, religious and other interpersonal clashes. What happens when two sides both feel certain of incompatible positions? Certainty can block mutual understanding, empathy, giving others the benefit of the doubt, or meeting in the middle. These are essential diplomatic and interpersonal relationship skills.

I am trying to learn how to question my own certainty, and to live a life that can embrace uncertainty. The scientific method, an approach based on confirming or disconfirming hypotheses based on empirical evidence, may be the closest that we can get to certainty in a subjective world. It provides a structured way to dialogue and find consensus about our shared outer world. Yet, consensus is still lacking, even science is subject to biases and current paradigms. Humans are naturally stubborn and resistant to evidence that works against their beliefs, even when it might provide a better explanation.

population-2014There are over seven billion people in our consensual outer world, each possessing a different inner world; each providing a unique perspective on the outer world; each potentially at odds with many of the others; each feels their “truth” deeply, craves understanding, and desires some sense of connection. The interplay of these many worlds might not be survivable, but if we are going to make it, then we must learn how to live together between the inner and outer worlds. Science alone is not enough, we must also find ways to understand, abide, and share our bewildering inner worlds.

“I like the scientific spirit—the holding off, the being sure but not too sure, the willingness to surrender ideas when the evidence is against them: this is ultimately fine—it always keeps the way beyond open—always gives life, thought, affection, the whole man, a chance to try over again after a mistake—after a wrong guess.”

Walt Whitman


John R. Lucy, Ph.D. is a psychologist in private practice at Decatur Psychology, LLC.

Black Boxes

black-boxI can only dwell in my personal experience. As the protagonist of my story, I am the subject and everyone and everything else is an object to me. Likewise, I am an object to everyone else who encounters me. Not only can I not enter another’s subjective experience, but I am unable to experience myself as an object. I live inside the “black box” that I am to others, a box that prevents me from experiencing the outside of the box. From inside my black box, I interact with other black boxes. I can never experience others’ subjectivity, and they cannot experience mine. This is an existential predicament — a predicament replete with peril and opportunity.

The peril stems from our instinctive feel that we are the experts of ourselves. We do indeed have access to exclusive information about ourselves which makes us experts of a sort, but this expertise is both biased and limited. The insufficiency of our expertise tends to be neglected like a blind spot. Like the eye’s blind spot, we fill in the missing information — never realizing it was missing in the first place.

Abiding in the midst of ignorance, thinking themselves wise and learned, fools go aimlessly hither and thither, like blind led by the blind. — Katha Upanishad

Communication with others often leads to the blind debating the blind and arguing about what they cannot see. We feel so sure of what we know that what we do not know is ignored. What we do not know is in part what others know, and here lies the opportunity.

Accepting our ignorance, opens the door to knowledge and intimacy. If, in my blindness, I can accept rather than reject the perspective of another, then my world is expanded.

The road to self-insight runs through other people.
— David Dunning

Successfully negotiating this existential predicament requires skill and eloquence. Feedback can be given in many ways, only some of which are effective. Effectiveness is increased when both parties acknowledge their “blindness.” This leads to dialogue, a type of mindful communication that is collaborative and open-minded rather than oppositional and close-minded. Dialogue does not come natural to most of us, but it is vital to learn if we ever hope to be the experts of ourselves.


John R. Lucy, Ph.D. is a psychologist in private practice at Decatur Psychology, LLC.

Hot Potato

open-mind-for-a-new-world-paulo-zerbatoI construct my world. My selective sensory input percolates through my unique brain wiring which has been shaped by my experiential mélange. Even the events I have shared with others are singularly mine. This constructed world appears to me so instantaneously, so automatically that I find it almost unfathomable that billions of worlds are simultaneously appearing to other perspectives. I interact with these other perspectives daily, encounters that hold the potential to transform my constructed world. Most of the time, I resist transformation by clinging tightly to my world and viewing my experience in such a way that my world is validated anew. This is easily accomplished when others corroborate my perspective. Group consensus authenticates the “realness” of my world. Those that fall outside my chosen consensus, my tribe, can be easily stigmatized and perhaps ostracized.

My challenge is conflicting with those in my tribe, those I love and whom I generally agree with. My reflex is to regard them as wrong. While this feels true, it seems to exacerbate the conflict because they seem to have the same reflex. They think that I am wrong when I think that they are wrong. It seems that no one appreciates being told they are wrong or bad. Being wrong challenges the world we have constructed and it has the potential of wreaking havoc to its foundation and maintenance. The coherence of our world is essential to our stability, so our world must be defended. Blame is a weapon, Fortress on a hilland most of us keep it readily accessible. Blaming others removes the stench of wrongness or badness and allows us to feel virtuous, perhaps even superior. Superiority feels safer, like a fortress on a hill which keeps threats below us. It preserves our constructed world, it helps us feel stable. However, no one seems to appreciate being blamed, thus, a hot potato game of blame ensues — escalation in the war of righteousness.

Some part of me understands this conundrum, can observe its carnage and wants to escape the push and pull of blame, criticism, defense and avoidance. While it is easy to see that those who disagree with me live in subjective and very biased worlds, this part understands that my experience in life is equally subjective. It takes a lot of work and practice to act on this understanding. This work feels worthwhile. Since no one wants to hold the hot potato of blame, it is relieving that there is an alternative to tossing it to someone else. This hot potato can be abandoned in most conflicts. I can be upset without the other person having to be wrong, bad or even at fault. The negative impact of another’s actions, does not imply negative intent — correlation does not imply causation. This is a very hard lesson for a mind programmed for debate, though it can learn to dialogue. As I learn to escape the blame-game, conflict is more easily and more successfully resolved, but escaping this game will take significant practice.

“Never attribute to malice that which is adequately explained by stupidity.” — Robert J. Hanlon


John R. Lucy, Ph.D. is a psychologist in private practice at Decatur Psychology, LLC.

 

Being / Seeking

The baby, assailed by eyes, ears, nose, skin, and entrails at once, feels it all as one great blooming, buzzing confusion; and to the very end of life, our location of all things in one space is due to the fact that the original extents or bignesses of all the sensations which came to our notice at once, coalesced together into one and the same space. — William James (1890)

120892My existence is mysterious to me, yet that I exist is my core reality. My existence integrates an experiencer with that which is experienced. My experiencer divides my experience into “external” and “internal” perceptual categories, which by convention I label as either objective (external) or subjective (internal).  Orienting towards my experience further divides the objective and subjective into seemingly inexhaustible perceptual phenomena. If I move toward the subjective, through my “inner world,” in the direction of the experiencer, I ultimately arrive at simple awareness. This seems to be the starting point of my existence, for here all my perceptions are subsumed since without awareness there is no experiencer. Without my experiencer, I have no experience, no existence. Awareness is my immediately available, experiential foundation, my existence. It is my source, the ground of my being.

When I maneuver away from my foundation of pure awareness, toward the “great blooming, buzzing confusion,” I feel unsettled because my source feels diluted in this mysterious array of experience. Making sense of this mystery is the impetus of science, religion, philosophy and speculation. In my own sense-making endeavor, I will inevitably diverge from all the other efforts to do the same. Nevertheless, I feel driven to make sense of this mystery to achieve a sense of coherence and to reconnect with the simplicity of my existence. I am ever seeking a state of connection, unity and oneness.

Do I continue seeking, dividing, sorting and rearranging? Or, is what I seek, right here, at one with me, inseparable and immediately available?

Could it be that simple?

What if?

You are a function of what the whole universe is doing in the same way that a wave is a function of what the whole ocean is doing. 
― Alan Watts

UniversalMindThe existence of consciousness remains the greatest of mysteries. What if consciousness is not a byproduct of matter but the source of matter? What if a universal mind is the field that holds together our world of matter? … each speck of life, a unique portal through which this mind pours forth its creative impulses. A creativity that further blossoms as “matter” awakens to consciousness. “Awakened matter” ultimately notices itself as an object, and a sense of self is galvanized. Self grows cognizant of its awareness, and an unshared subjectivity is conceived. This individualized perspective can neither be replicated nor fully understood by another.

What if that perspective in us — which is aware, which notices and is our observing self — is universal mind seeing through the filter that is us with all our idiosyncratic characteristics? What if the world we notice “out there” is actually inside rather than outside — a dreamworld contained within universal mind? I, like many other seekers, desperately want to reify this mind of which I am comprised. Even naming it is a movement in this direction, but whatever is observing and experiencing through us, if it is singular, cannot be mentally captured any more than I can see my eyes with my eyes. We know this universal mind, this source of awareness, only through living and experiencing our unique perspective. Our life is this larger life, but embodied and limited in space and time.

If we believe a universal mind experiences through us, might it change the way we see ourselves and one another? Could we feel connected and unified rather than isolated and divided? Is it possible we would value ourselves and others in a more treasured way? Maybe we would be curious and open to others’ perspectives and less judgmental and intolerant. Perhaps compassion and love could flourish.

While it often seems that we dwell in separateness and look out at a world full of objects perhaps it is quite the opposite, and a knowing, experiencing and creative mind is “looking” within — seeing itself through myriad perspectives … a dynamic self with so many ways to experience, to interact … to be. Perhaps this self becomes so enamored and entangled in these multiple perspectives that in the midst of embodied experience it believes these dreams of separateness and loses a sense of unity.

Do we want “it” to wake up?

You are actually—if this is the way things started, if there was a big bang in the beginning— you’re not something that’s a result of the big bang. You’re not something that is a sort of puppet on the end of the process. You are still the process. You are the big bang, the original force of the universe, coming on as whoever you are. When I meet you, I see not just what you define yourself as—Mr so-and- so, Ms so-and-so, Mrs so-and-so—I see every one of you as the primordial energy of the universe coming on at me in this particular way. I know I’m that, too. But we’ve learned to define ourselves as separate from it. ― Alan Watts


John R. Lucy, Ph.D. is a psychologist in private practice at Decatur Psychology, LLC.

 

Every Man Is An Island

…existentially speaking, that is. We are trapped in our own subjectivity and can’t fully escape. This is the “unbridgeable gulf between oneself and any other being,” (1) which Irvin Yalom refers to as existential isolation. This unbridgeable gulf can vary in size but it is always there.

The reality which our minds generate is infused with our experience, emotion and judgment; but this is generally invisible to us, and we are regularly fooled into believing that what we experience is THE TRUTH. We believe the gulf created by our subjectivity can be bridged by TRUTH, and we are lulled into debate as we try to convince others of THE TRUTH. This is chasing after the wind, a fools errand. All we can do is share from our observation point, our experience, our personal truth and hope that the other is willing to try and build a partial bridge towards us.

This partial bridge is built with empathy, a genuine willingness to attempt to enter into the experience of another. Empathy requires awareness that we are trapped in our own subjectivity, because only then do we understand that we actually have to wade through our own subjectivity and notice its interference in the bridge building process. Empathy is a process that inspires dialogue just as belief in TRUTH inspires debate. Empathy is imperfect bridge building that never completes the full span of the gulf. Nevertheless, a partial bridge creates the opportunity for connection, understanding and healing, something which most of us crave: a healing from the wounds of our isolation, disconnection and feeling unknown.

 

Could a greater miracle take place than for us to look through each other’s eyes for an instant? — Henry David Thoreau

 

(1) Yalom, I. A., 1980. Existential Psychotherapy. New York: Basic Books, Inc.

 


John R. Lucy, Ph.D. is a psychologist in private practice at Decatur Psychology, LLC.