Monday, December 20, 2010

The Horns of Integral Pragmatics

What I propose and emphasize by constantly returning to integral pragmatics is the possibility for co-enacting a “new” mode of intimacy with the utterances we make.

The Walls of Jericho
I put the word new in the quotation marks because I believe that this mode is old enough to have seen the first geniuses of both a spoken word and a written word in the history of humankind. I, nevertheless, say “new” because it seems we either lost our connection with this mode or haven’t found it yet. For some reason we tend to distance ourselves from the embodiment of our Logos or Word; and yet we shall always remind ourselves: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.”

In the alchemical lab of our Imagination the seed of the Word manifests as God’s will and energy. Through becoming one with the Word we re-unite with the miracle of Oneness with the Spirit as it manifests inseparably from reality. The Word uttered always brings aliveness to our being; and instead of looking straight at things we stare into the abyss in front of us and our consciousness embarks on a journey through the realms of the living and the dead, following the footsteps of infinity, swimming in the clouds of timelessness, and reaching out to express as non-locality.

The sacred way of speaking the Word is totally different from the profane way of speaking words. Peter Kingsley explains the difference between “talking about” and “talking from” in the magnificent article “Raven’s Appearance”:
There is the profane way of talking, which is to talk about things. And if you care to notice, you will see that in the modern Western world we always talk about something. There is the word; then there is the point of reference for the word, which is always separate from the word itself. And this, of course, is the basis for nearly all modern linguistics.

But according to people such as Parmenides there is another way of talking. This other way is that instead of talking about, you talk from. If you sense oneness you talk from oneness; and that oneness is communicated through the magic of the word in a way that our minds may find incomprehensible but that, even so, fascinates and endlessly obsesses them. For these people were magicians. The founders of logic and science in the West were sorcerers. They knew what they were doing even if, now, no one knows what they did.
If we intuit the infinite, if we intuit the eternal, if we intuit the timeless, the transcendent, the Divine, we are bound to wake up in the echoing thunder of silence. This silence is the original face of our selfhood; and it quietly floats in our Hearts. The silence explodes with ecstasy, and when it does, the Word manifests. You see, the Word is inseparable from the silence, the Word is connected to the silence, the Word is silence revealed itself.

We can spend years and decades talking about words but unless we talk from the Word we never reach the realm of profound pragmatics. We can infinitely chase our own tail of signifiers and signifieds but no matter what we do unless we open our minds and hearts wide enough to courageously embody the Word, our talking will always remain talking about philosophy instead of being philosophy, talking about poetry instead of being poetry, talking about science instead of being science, talking about art instead of being art. Philosophy is the Love of Wisdom; in its pragmatics it’s the Word uttered itself to itself and echoed in the Hall of sentient Mirrors.

I have always intuitively sensed the appearance of the intimacy with the Word in the writings of Ken Wilber. The striking difference between him and his philosophy and those who talk about Wilber and his philosophy is in the embodiment of the Word—Logos. The seed of this vision of integral pragmatics that I want to convey to you has been sown by a little and seemingly evanescent utterance of profound importance, the utterance delineating Integral Semiotics in Wilber’s Integral Spirituality (pp. 286-287):
James was a genius and a pioneer in so many ways, and the fact that he took states of consciousness as seriously as he did was extraordinary; but monological is monological, and in that instance he merely extended the imperialism of the philosophy of the subject. Fortunately, James’s sheer genius pushes him beyond his own self-imposed limitations. His empiricism is always open to hermeneutics, the representational paradigm is supplemented with Peircean pragmatics, and—above all—his is a soul in which Truth and Goodness and Beauty are still a holy and unbreakable trinity.

But radical empiricism is still empiricism. That is, radical empiricism is radical monologicalism. Stages in zone #2 and the constitutive nature of zone #4 are alien to him. Had he availed himself of more of the work of his contemporary James Mark Baldwin, how different it all might have been. This imperialistic empiricism is the worm in the core of this otherwise extraordinary work.

It’s interesting to note that, in fact, Charles Peirce himself criticized James for exactly this central problem. James and Peirce were lifelong friends, despite their little tiff over James’s appropriation of the term “pragmatism” from Peirce, who coined it. (Peirce subsequently changed the name of his philosophy to “pragmaticism,” which was “a term,” he said, “so ugly as to discourage theft.”) Despite their friendship, Peirce felt James’s approach of “pure empiricism” was deeply flawed. Peirce—who, as noted, is generally regarded as America’s greatest philosophical genius—nailed James with a simple sentence: Perception is semiotic.
I want to pause here for a moment, take a deep breath and state that for the last two years I have been a semiotician to the marrow of my bones. Semiotics is a way to recognize the almost religious reverence for the Word that manifests as a movement of the unmoving, as a birth of the unborn. The entire universe after the Big Bang represents the Word extended through time and space. Now, having said so, I shall continue this magnificent quotation:
In other words, perception is always already an interpretation. At least in part. Failing to see this is the common mistake of naïve phenomenology and naïve empiricism in all their forms. Understanding this also let Peirce point out two further problems, which people simply will not understand if they don’t get the first problem with monological empiricism itself. Namely, it let Peirce say of James, “Of course, he is materialistic to the core.” And further: “He inclines toward Cartesian dualism.” Whenever I mention this to fans of James, they usually express shock, which tells me that they haven’t gotten the postmodern revolution, because otherwise it makes perfect sense. But for those who fail to understand this, James is even seen as somebody who overcame materialism and dualism, whereas he merely embodied their subtler monological forms. Peirce went on to humorously say of James’s implicit materialism that this is so “in a methodological sense, but not religiously, since he does not deny a separable soul nor a future life; for materialism is that form of philosophy which leaves the universe as incomprehensible as it finds it.” What Peirce means is, what monological delivers is incomprehensible; perception itself is actually semiotic.
Now we come closer to the part which is most important to our reasoning. Let’s take a look:
We can also see, further, why James—as well as virtually all meditation and phenomenology—is, as often noted, modernist in essence, and why Peirce was a great postmodernist about a century ahead of his time (who else could see natural laws as natural habits, without falling into magenta magic?). Peirce maintained that all perception is already an interpretation, and interpretation is triadic in structure: it demands a sign, an object (referent), and an interpretant. You can see the similarity with Ferdinand de Saussure, who maintained that the sign is composed of a signifier and signified in a system of interpreted differences. Peirce coined the term “semiotics”; Saussure called what he was doing “semiology.” AQAL has drawn on both of them: there is a sign (signifier plus signified), referent, semantic, syntax, and pragmatics.
Here we have to look at the bottom of the page to find a short footnote with the utterance that forever changed my relation to the Word as it is written or spoken or read or done:
To give a quadratic view: the sign is composed of UR-signifier and UL-signified (and yes, à la postmodernism, there are often huge gaps between them, resulting in deferral of meaning). Integral Theory defines a sign as “any aspect of reality that signifies another, to another.” Signs exist in systems of semantics (LL) and syntax (LR), held together by pragmatics (whose telos is to integrate the 4 quadrants of any semiotic occasion: and all occasions are semiotic, although only higher animals have linguistic forms of semiotics: the 4 quadrants go all the way down, taking semiotics with them). . . .
Ever since I have read this footnote my life has never been the same. As I was reading the words “signs exist in systems of semantics (LL) and syntax (LR), held together by pragmatics (whose telos is to integrate the 4 quadrants of any semiotic occasion . . .)” the subtle tingling in my body and the space of clarity in my mind signified that the treasure is found.

I have expressed elsewhere my point of view that the third tier of development and evolution of consciousness described in the Integral developmental theory is the first truly Pragmatic Tier. In a gesture of connecting the dots I have linked Wilber’s testimony that the AQAL framework itself is a product of the Indigo stage of consciousness (a third-tier stage) with the statement that pragmatics’ telos is to integrate the four quadrants of any semiotic occasion. This means that the true nature of the four quadrants, the true nature of these primordial perspectives reveals itself only as an embodiment of the Word coming through a third-tier structure of consciousness.

Indigo is the first stage of consciousness which in its utterances, the utterances that manifest not just as a verbal-linguistic activity but as a kosmocentric activity, is able to hold the four quadrants in a single gesture of integration. Before that stage, every utterance we make is bound to be a fragmented aspect of a text within text within text within the boundaries of one dimension of consciousness. To understand and grok and grasp the difficult transverbal reality beneath these words I want to extend my philosophical hand so as to reach Vasily Nalimov, a truly unsung hero of our time. Vasily Nalimov understood consciousness as essentially a text reading phenomenon. He intuited very well the power of Logos—the power of the Word—and spoke from the silence and timelessness. The grand narrative of our life is a holarchy of semiotic occasions that forms the scripture with the Holy text breathing within and without.

I emphasize integral pragmatics but my words sometimes are misinterpreted as utterances of an isolated theorizing mind—but I am not a Pharisee and not interested in a book knowledge and in talking about. When I reach the space of clarity through which I can reconnect with integral pragmatics I see that human beings are lost in massive textbooks of their own minds. The dissociation of the words and actions is being established. The intuition of the immediacy of the Spirit-in-action’s tetra-manifestation becomes forsaken. A seed of integral intentionality which has the potentiality to reach a luminous mindbody becomes lost in the swamps of smaller vortexes of karma. The Integral Word instead of being spoken is being stuck at the throat chakra level of incessant mumbling; and the energy never reaches the forehead and the crown chakras (and often lower chakras as well). The micro-orbit is never fully completed. The Beauty fades away. The hopes get broken. Alienation insists. The Word is forgotten. The Man isolates himself in the web of texts he created.

My task is to do my best to bring the message which reveals the possibility for a passionate embodiment of the Word—the Word that has the sound of the Horns of Jericho. It shakes your destiny and frees your throat and liberates your fate. The influx of authentic pragmatics results.

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

Sepulchral frost


Sepulchral Frost

The gravestone’s coldness dissects streams of wind.
In solitude’s transparency a sepulchral rainfall bursts.
And on the headstone of my last resort
An inscription shines, hidden by withered leafs.
Six feet under the ground: it lies, consumed by worms,
Covered with loose, airy earth, with eyelids eaten away:
My corpse, forsaken organic matter,
That ceased to act as a living embodiment of mind-body unity;
That is simply a rotten mass feasted by Nature,
Out of which my corpse emerged some years ago,
While still being alive, hurrying to live, spurting towards joys
And sorrows of yet another illusion called the life path
Of an isolated personality that grows and develops under the blue sky,
The moon and the stars that shine with an elusive mystery,
The mystery which is so easy to miss in the face of the enchanted
Vibrating web of meanings that we weave as we dwell in our collective dreaming.
In my heart, ever since the moment of my birth, there was this sepulchral frost,
And behind the left shoulder, near my ear, I felt someone’s breathing,
And someone’s whisper pontificated to me that, while being alive,
Somewhere there, very near, right in my Heart
I’ve never been born. And my hour has struck but nothing changed:
All these years were dreamt by me when my body was already enthralled
By this cadaveric freeze. Another day on the planet Earth,
In the Milky Way galaxy, on the outskirts of this universe
Was lived by me. In vain or not in vain, that is the question of no significance
On the back of the monumental triumph of kosmic void
And her unstoppable life, in contrast to which I am only
A weak shimmering of a body shell swept away by a blink of Eternity.
Let the memory of me as of an unnoted sparkle remain
In the great sentient archives of the undying Kosmos.
And one day when the right time comes the good I’ve done here and now
Will grow into a gigantic wave, humongous sea of Goodness
Which will destroy all ignorance and bring eternal peace and joy—
At least for a moment. And I will cry for all the cursed and all the blessed.

April 27, 2010 
(translated from Russian)

Thursday, November 18, 2010

Reconnecting with the spiritual roots of the Western civilization

This is it!

Peter Kingsley speaks about the same profound connection with the Ancient Greeks’ vision for our Western civilization that I have been experiencing for the past couple of years. We can call it the ultimate resonance with the intentionality of the Past that created our Now and is a source for forming our future.

I couldn’t avoid the understanding all our Western civilization is really a dream of the great Ancient visionaries, not only of pre-Socratic mystics but also of the great spiritual leaders. I experience profound (trans)personal connection with some of the thinkers from the past and from the present.

The words of Plato and Plotinus speak directly to my Heart. The similar connection I have experienced with the gigantic personalities of Vasily Nalimov, Vladimir Bekhterev, and Fyodor Dostoevsky. If you really think about it, every manifestation from the past has never gone anywhere. The sentience is as alive as ever; and the individual suffering must be released into the freedom of the vast expanse.

It’s not just manifestation of impersonal Unity, it’s also manifestation of quite a (trans)personal intentionality, very unique self-sense of a visionary passion that we must ponder about.

Reconnection with our own cultural roots is a must.

A comment I wrote to my friend JF as a response to this interview:

I can’t believe I found another living person who resonates with the deeper truths about the European spiritual lineage that I discovered this and last year. When I embrace the contemporary world with my awareness, I couldn’t escape the understanding that the entire Judeo-Christian civilization that existed for the last two thousand years was in fact a direct product of the great mystics’ powerful visions and of all-transcending and all-including intentionality of Christ’s personality, which in turn emerged from the background highly influenced by Platonic non-duality, Egyptian mysticism, and Eastern contemplation.

By the way, this vision is almost exactly the vibratory level that Vasily Nalimov referred to in his works, when he spoke about and embodied the profound resonance with the geniuses of the past, the past which is our memory to be re-lived.

And here I wonder how this relates to Russia and the great Eurasian conglomerate of cultures; how this dissociation from the roots contributes to the poor condition of the state and its people; and how the profound meaning can be found in the fact that there’s so much suffering, that so many people, they were so radically sacrificed and put six feet under into the abyss of unbeing, while they’re actually so vital, so alive, and so crying for our help.

I couldn’t stop myself from recalling Alexander Vertinsky’s song: “Я не знаю зачем и кому это нужно, кто послал их на смерть недрожавшей рукой, только так беспощадно, так зло и ненужно окунули их в вечный покой.” [“I don't know what for, or who needed it, who sent them to death with an untrembling hand, but so ruthlessly, so evilly and so needlessly they were put to eternal peace.”] It is not a coincidence that Vasily Nalimov quoted this song in his major works when he wrote about the Karmic tragedy of that peoples in Russia suffered.

Why? What for? What is the ultimate meaning? WHAT WILL JUSTIFY ALL THESE DEATHS, MURDERED CHILDREN, MOTHERS, AND FATHERS, BROKEN HOPES AND UNENDING SUFFERING?

Monday, November 1, 2010

The spectrum of reading

While pondering about books and how to read them I remembered one episode.

On my first or second year at University one professor asked the auditorium whether anybody knew the name of the author of Moby-Dick. He said he’d give the highest grade for the semester to the student who’d say the name. All one hundred something students went silent. I read Moby-Dick and had two impulses: first was to earn an easy grade; second was: meh! I don’t need that kind of charity, passing the semester exam would be piece of cake anyway. Finally, one girl pronounced Herman Melville’s name. For the professor it was an amusement to showcase how stupid and ignorant the younger generation of students were.

The meaning of Melville’s multifaceted book unfolds greater and greater with each year of my recalling its oceans and passions. But to return to the question that originated this memory: I really don’t know what would be the wisest way to read books that stream into my life incessantly. Should I take notes, highlight phrases and paragraphs, or simply read in a flow, letting my unconscious mind soak in all things missed by my conscious mind?

Taking notes seems a time-consuming work, especially if I simply roam around the literature without any specific topic of investigation (although I usually highlight everything related to mind, states of consciousness, existential meaning of life, transpersonal realms, etc.). If I don’t save the notes to computer sooner or later they get lost.

However, every book’s text is a landscape to be traversed and carefully explored, sometimes pioneered. Notes and highlight can really be helpful if you want to access the knowledge right away. At times being able to find the quotation I needed by searching the tag system in my Zotero notes has been helpful. Taking notes from the important books now and categorizing them in a database seems like an investment into the future.

On the other hand, some of the most profound book knowledge that I have learned seems to be the one I learned passionately through spontaneous reading with an open mind (a beginner’s mind) and a broad intention. The naive reading, so to say. The flow of books would enter my life, stay there a little bit, leave a mark or a scratch or a signature, and then go away. Some years later it would re-emerge in a huge bulk of meanings constellations. That’s probably a Romantic way of looking at reading.

But no matter what, even more influential were the texts I translated myself. These texts I digested with all my sentient being. As always, it seems everything’s really scalable and we can adapt many styles to read and use many tools to enhance our reading. Perhaps, there’s a spectrum of reading?

Monday, October 11, 2010

In defense of integral reading

In Defense of Naïve Reading” by Robert Pippin is a pretty interesting integrative article on literary postmodernism published at the New York Times website. Reading it was as if the surfaces of the Red Postmodern Sea were parted and the depth of self-consciousness revealed itself. At least for a moment a silent green beam of hope shined. To quote,
“[L]iterature and the arts have a dimension unique in the academy, not shared by the objects studied, or ‘researched’ by our scientific brethren. They invite or invoke, at a kind of ‘first level,’ an aesthetic experience that is by its nature resistant to restatement in more formalized, theoretical or generalizing language. This response can certainly be enriched by knowledge of context and history, but the objects express a first-person or subjective view of human concerns that is falsified if wholly transposed to a more ‘sideways on’ or third-person view. Indeed that is in a way the whole point of having the ‘arts.’”
For me, literature has always been a source of deep wisdom that fosters one’s greater maturity. As a brilliant Russian thinker Vasily Nalimov argues in his books, consciousness is a text-reading phenomenon (in the broadest sense of the word). In my opinion, narrative brings meaningful & very subtle structures to one’s personal development; and Ken Wilber has pointed out the importance of the world greatest religious narratives as developmental conveyor belts for preconventional & conventional worldspaces in his book Integral Spirituality.

To continue quoting this wonderful article,
“Likewise—and this is a much more controversial thesis—such works also can directly deliver a kind of practical knowledge and self-understanding not available from a third person or more general formulation of such knowledge. There is no reason to think that such knowledge—exemplified in what Aristotle said about the practically wise man (the [Phronēsis]) or in what Pascal meant by the difference between l’esprit géometrique and l’esprit de finesse—is any less knowledge because it cannot be so formalized or even taught as such. Call this a plea for a place for ‘naïve’ reading, teaching and writing—an appreciation and discussion not mediated by a theoretical research question recognizable as such by the modern academy.”
Definitely, aesthetically-built literary narratives seem to have the capacity of constructing experiential frameworks for conveying certain domains of tacit knowledge (necessary for action learning in the pragmatic sector). To additionally contribute to this statement about the importance of aesthetics in our narratives, I would quote the famous Russian writer Anton Chekhov who said, “The writer’s function is only to describe by whom, how, and under what conditions… The artist must be only an impartial witness of his characters and what they said, not their judge.” (I borrowed the quotation from another interesting article by Nina Schuyler.)

Here are some of the questions worth pondering. Why reading comprehensive literature is so important for our development? Why do I think that in order for us to contribute to humanity probably the best thing we can do is to calm our minds enough to be able to actually have read Dostoevsky’s passionate reflections on universal conscience and self-liberation? Why do stories and their archetypal images have played such an important role for our humanity’s evolution for millennia? Why good 1st-person storytelling is so important not just for narrow marketing and cheap sales pitches but for a wide range of dimensions of life that involve communication and knowledge sharing?

One of the many perspectives that I find increasingly important when contemplating the matrix of these questions is the mind-blowing neuroscientific discovery of mirror neurons: 
“In multiple reports published in the Sept. 19 issue of Current Biology, neuroscientists provide evidence that mirror neurons are multimodal—they are activated by not just by watching actions, but also by hearing and reading about them.

An effort led by Lisa Lisa Aziz-Zadeh, a neuroscientist at the University of Southern California, found that the brain’s premotor cortex shows the same activity when subjects observe an action as when they read words describing it.” (“Mirror Neurons Also Respond to Language and Sound,” September 21, 2006)
Hence, we are witnessing the capacity of comprehensive narratives to evoke altered states of consciousness and deeper modes of knowing and appreciating life which are important for the emergence of a more sophisticated pragmatics of our being-in-the-world. Science cannot replace art and morals—Habermas, Wilber and others have proved it convincingly; but if science, morals, and art are in a complementary relationship with each other their synergy will most definitely bring forth powerful results.

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

Anamnesis and aletheia

I am in the process of re-watching a movie called Memento (2000). My dear friend reminded me of the existence of it. It is a movie by one of the most gifted directors of our time Christopher Nolan (who also created The Dark Knight which is simply a perfect film if you are in the right mode of consciousness). The protagonist of Memento, Leonard, is suffering from anterograde amnesia, a clinical condition that blocks mind/brain’s capacity to remember new phenomena. In order to survive in the world which is full of people who would like to take advantage of his condition Leonard constantly leaves himself notes to remind who he is, where he is, and what his goals are. 

The feeling of watching this movie is so uncanny that I had to stop watching it. And when I went to bed this uncanny feeling didn’t disappear, insisted on it being followed and brought me back to my computer to write this down. To be straightforward, this uncanny feeling is that of the recognition that in some bigger sense Leonard’s condition reminds me of my own—and, perhaps, it appears familiar not only to me but also to other people.  

I feel that in some way I live a similar life always leaving myself notes in attempt to re-mind myself who I truly am in the fullness of my being-in-the-world. I have this and that peak experience, I glance here and there on my true nature, I become one with something which is what I am, I become capable to hold it in the gesture of my meditative awareness for longer periods; and yet once in a while I slip into the darkness of forgetfulness. In a sense, this very blog is a note that I leave to myself to constantly remind myself of what I am—or at least of what it is worth living for and of what it is possible to choose as one’s own destiny. 

In addition to becoming a person on the frontal egoic plane in the process of individual growth and development mediated to a great extent through socialization it seems that my life is about, first of all, reminding myself of something—of my Soul’s True Love if you let me put it that way—then remembering it and then knowing through embodying my True Self (and finally letting go of it and stepping into not-knowing). As long as I am locked within the cell of my mind which constantly chaotically twinkles and flows I have to re-mind myself of what I am and then to train my mind to remember. But eventually when the personal mind gets transcended but included, once one enters the narrow gate, a bigger entity emerges, the one that simply knows and feels and moves and speaks and sees. Here, life becomes quite easy: I simply smell my way further and operate on the skills my well-adapted personal ego has learnt through the years of learning. Sometimes I could recall to my presence some farther events and perspectives that I have once known somewhere else—and feel as if I am actually there—and yet I don’t need to rely that much on re-minding myself of all those limited details any longer—I let go. 

Sometimes I can even forget what I said a minute or an hour ago and there is simply too much information in the world now for me to try to remind myself of all of it. When I open my email client and see all these different emails from different streams of life, different parts of the world, different projects, different ideas… they simply overwhelm if I attempt to remind myself of everything through my mind.  

I don’t know where the need for re-minders would disappear. My friend Jim whose depth of mind fascinates me says the word money comes from the word warning or reminder. Will the times when we don’t have to re-mind ourselves come? How would it be if we simply… remember—for starters? All the beautiful churches, all the beautiful temples, all the beautiful pyramids, all the houses, all the cities, all the graves, all the monuments, all the books, all the photographs, all the paintings, etc.—are they here to simply re-mind us of something once in a while or can they act as catalyzing portals into remembering and eventually simply and profoundly non-forgettingly being and fulfilling one’s destiny on multiple planes of living. I don’t mind if it happens.

I am concluding with an entry from a dictionary on Plato’s works:
truth

The Greek word for truth, aletheia, incorporates the word for “forgetting”; a-letheia might be translated as “unforgetting” or “remembering.” This etymology is particularly significant in Plato’s epistemology, which maintains that true knowledge can be achieved only through anamnesis, the soul’s recollection of the Forms it has glimpsed during its circuit through heaven in metempsychosis. For Plato, knowledge of mere phenomena cannot attain the truth, as only the ideal Forms are truly real.

Saturday, July 10, 2010

Brother David Steindl-Rast's Big Heart

As I mentioned in the blog earlier, two weeks ago I went for 3 days to Moscow to present at the International Transpersonal Conference. Being at the conference was quite an eclectic experience because it's attended by people of very diverse backgrounds. It was very hot on those days in the city; and the air conditioners at the Hotel Izmailovskaya were barely working. Some of the speakers whom I expected to be quite extraordinary disappointed me a little bit because they did not take an integrally balanced position. But, on the other hand, there were many profound moments, too.

There were two episodes, two meetings that have had a profound impact on me. The first episode consisted of having an opportunity to express in person all my gratitude to Stan Grof. It might not be realized by many people in the world (or in America for that matter) but Grof's books have the reputation of being somewhat classic for the generation of the intellectual Russians who spent their youth in the post-Soviet society, especially starting with the emergence of the open Internet access. It can be said that these works have broadened notions of being-in-the-world for many thousands of people. I mean not among psychologists or academia but among some ordinary people who are enthralled by the possibility and intuition of the transpersonal (although, of course, the influence is not that huge in terms of its span). Even though Grof's cartography of consciousness and its states now cannot be considered comprehensive (but it can be very useful for many individuals who are interested in consciousness exploration through altered states and peak experiences), the very fact of the existence and foundation of the transpersonal movement by such folks as Stan Grof, Abe Maslow, and Mike Murphy should be appreciated enormously.

 Expressing all my gratitude to Stan Grof, MD for his contributions to the humankind.

The second episode was the blessing of meeting Brother David Steind-Rast and having a little blissful exchange of meanings with him. Meeting him in person could definitely be a life-changing event not only for me but also for other people. I don't know what else to say here. I can only be grateful for being able to know him.

 An inspiring meeting of Brother David Steindl-Rast.

I invite you to watch the video clip I have recorded which includes a part of Brother David's beautiful speech about integral spirituality (filmed in Moscow on June 26, 2010). (I have also added subtitles but I've had problems hearing some of the words, so I'd appreciate if you can help me in filling the missing spots.)

Andrew Lloyd Webber & JCS

Andrew Lloyd Webber's Jesus Christ Superstar is one of the most beautiful and touching modern prayers that I know of.


Monday, July 5, 2010

The tale of Midas

Many Russians grew up on stories and tales from the Ancient Greek mythology. There were many Soviet cartoons made about Heracles (known in the West under his Roman name Hercules) and his Twelve Labors, about Prometeus who brought fire of knowledge, about smart Odysseus, Argonauts, and so many others. Perhaps, one of the most mysterious stories of all is the tale of King Midas.

The story is usually told in a very sad and ironic manner. Midas was a king of Phrygia. Once, his soldiers caught Silenus, who was a right-hand satyr to the god Dionysus (whose Roman equivalent is Bacchus). Midas recognized him as such and set him free. Dionysus was very pleased by this doing, so he offered to grant whatever Midas should wish for. Midas asked that everything he touch be turned to gold. As the story goes, soon Midas encounters that his blessing is also seems to be his curse. Everything he touched, a tree, a chariot, a fruit, food, and even his daughter was turning into gold. So Midas begged Dionysus to take this gift away. The god told Midas to wash himself in the river Pactolus. Ever since Midas washed away his magic touch in this river, it has been abundant in gold, and Midas returned to his normal life.

The way I am interpreting this myth is quite optimistic. In fact, gold and the color of gold has always been a symbol of Spirit. When Midas receives a gift from Dionysus to turn everything into gold, what he receives is the power of transmutation and transfiguration: of discovering Spirit beneath each and every occasion. Everything he touches turns into gold, that is every phenomenon in the universe that he  spontaneously selects with his awareness shows its true Divine essence. In the end he realizes that everything around him is Spirit's, and there is nothing he, Midas, could personally own or have. This leads to the agony and transformational death of his egoistic self. Then he asks Dionysus to retract the gift. But what has actually happened is that he makes one step further: by washing himself in the river he has undone the last barrier before the realization of Spirit as Spirit. In some spiritual traditions this move is called realization of the Nondual. Then the world becomes as simple as it has ever been. The source of gold, of spiritual energy is not ego but God. There is nothing to turn into gold because everything is always already gold—everything is always already Divine.

Thursday, July 1, 2010

The Bremen Town Musicians

In 1969, a Russian musical cartoon The Bremen Town Musicians started its voyage into the hearts of citizens of the Soviet Union. It resonated with the social revolution and the civil rights movement of The Sixties in the West, and due to this fact received harsh criticism from the USSR establishment and government for "noxious Western influence."

Within the two consequent years more than 28 millions Soviet people watched the cartoon and listened to the music. Two decades later, in the ruins of the collapsing empire, the songs from this cartoon fostered my early growth and development. For all my life I have remembered the subtle joy of freedom from these songs. 


Lives of several generations were guided and transformed by the sun beams of hope brought forth by this music. Such is a power of music. Let's remember and listen in silence and reverence.

Tuesday, June 22, 2010

International Transpersonal Conference (Moscow, Russia)

I am honored to be included to the list of presenters at the International Transpersonal Conference 2010 (Moscow, Russia). The list of presenters also includes Stan Grof, Alex Grey, Stanley Krippner, Dimitry Spivak, Jim Garrison, Bernard Lietaer, Andrew Cohen, Jenny Wade and others.

I will be giving two presentations (on June 24 and June 26). The first will be about the altstates.net project (one of the few projects of that kind in the field of altered states of consciousness research that is supported by a mainstream scientific organization) and the second will be about the Global Dialogue: Russian Contribution program I have been co-developing together with Dr. Mark Tourevski, Dr. Joachim Faust and others for more than a year.

Unfortunately, I couldn't visit Alex Grey's seminars and he leaves on the day I come to Moscow but I wrote a letter that I gave to my friend in Moscow so he would pass it to Alex.

Everything happens so quick in Russia (and the brand new world at large)...

Monday, May 3, 2010

Bosques de mi mente

Very beautiful, inspiring music video.


The musician whose music is featured in the video offers all his albums to download for free under the Creative Commons license.

Friday, April 9, 2010

The bus episode

I took a bus to get home from the gym this evening. I like to use public transport even though I live within a walking distance from that place. In Russian buses there is usually a special person, the ticket collector, who both sells tickets and checks whether you have one. As I was standing inside the bus looking into the window I suddenly heard the ticket collector's yelling at someone.

She screamed, "Get off the bus now! You want the entire bus to smell like you?"

I looked there and saw that the ticket collector was yelling at an old homeless man who sat there; and there was indeed that garbage stink of a person who haven't washed himself for weeks. The homeless man looked at her and said stubbornly and somewhat fearfully, "But I have paid for a ticket! I can leave where I want."

As the bus was approaching the bus stop the woman started to scream hysterically in the loudest way possible, "GET OFF NOW, YOU STINK! IT IS IMPOSSIBLE TO BEAR YOUR STINK ANYMORE! DO YOU WANT ME TO CALL THE BUS DRIVER NOW TO GET YOU OFF THE BUS BY FORCE?"

To which the homeless man repeated, "But I bought the ticket. I can leave where I want. I will leave on the next stop."

The woman continued yelling; and the man said, "Calm down, I'm leaving on the next stop anyway." The ticket collector understood that she can do nothing to get rid of this dirty old man and went to the farthest part of the bus.

The man left the bus on my bus stop. This particular old homeless man looked intelligent, he might even had a university education (as many people who lost their homes do), and I wonder how hard it was for him to get money to pay for one ticket to use the privilege and ride wherever he wanted. I also wonder whether he left the bus on the bus stop he originally intended or he just felt uncomfortable and didn't want to annoy the ticket collector.

In Russia, as in so many parts of the world, homeless people have no rights at all. It is in  a huge contrast with the developed Western countries such as Finland where homeless people receive money from the government (about €500 per month in case of Finland). Once, when I was in Helsinki, my friend pointed a person in the street to me and asked whom do I think he was. I had no clue; and he said that's a hobo. I was shocked because most Russian professors dress worse and look poorer than this Finnish "hobo." (In fact many Russian professors barely receive €500 per month while the prices are not that different.)

When I told someone about this bus episode I had tears in my eyes.

Thursday, April 8, 2010

What about the day we stop slaughtering our finest impulses?

A beautiful quotation I read a few minutes ago in the blog of one of my favorite fiction writers and magicians Johnathan Carroll. Carroll quotes Henry Miller who said,
Every day we slaughter our finest impulses. That is why we get a heartache when we read those lines written by the hand of a master and recognize them as our own, as the tender shoots which we stifled because we lacked the faith to believe in our own powers, our own criterion of truth and beauty. Every man, when he gets quiet, when he becomes desperately honest with himself, is capable of uttering profound truths. We all derive from the same source. There is no mystery about the origin of things. We are all part of creation, all kings, all poets, all musicians; we have only to open up, only to discover what is already there.
In my observations we most certainly do slaughter our finest impulses on a day-to-day basis. It doesn't necessarily refer to writing a poem or painting something beautiful. The finest impulses that we suppress may include the things we want to say, the moves we want to perform, the feelings we want to express. In some cases it emerges as a blockage in the throat, as if you were about to say something but then started to clear your throat and remained silent. In many cases we don't claim the destiny for greatness that belongs to us and settle due to our damaged self-esteem, an attachment to a false self for a lesser path or a path that is alien to us.

I hope an occasion will emerge to write extensively about Jonathan Carroll's magical novels that  helped me to rediscover my soul and make my soul presence stronger. His books have been very influential in my life—and I'm speaking of the magnitude of influence that at some point equals to that which, for instance, Ken Wilber's ideas have had on me (which is huge). Incidentally, in one of the older blogs Carroll writes about Wilber the following:
I was listening to a lecture by Ken Wilber about consciousness. He mentioned something I had never thought about. Yet as soon as I heard it, my mind jumped on its horse and rode off in all sorts of interesting directions. Wilber said one of the profound differences between mankind centuries ago and today was that in the past because a person was born, raised and usually died in one community and rarely left, their exposure to religious/spiritual ideas was limited to what was taught or believed only in that community. In modern times, particularly now with the ubiquity, width and breadth of the internet, a child in a remote community in, say, Mali, can learn in an instant about Buddhism, Christian Science, or Zoroastrianism. Sure, in the past missionaries from the various religions were sent out to the four corners of the earth to try and convert the heathen. But they were only individuals here and there. Now all that's needed is a computer and a modem and huge numbers of people can have their most fundamental beliefs challenged or changed—in an instant. I have always been fascinated by the idea of what we might be or have been if we were simply exposed to it. We would have been firm Catholics if we'd learned about that belief when we were most receptive to religious teaching. Or a great chess player if someone had only taught us how to play as children. How about a world class baker if we hadn't had a Mom who hated to cook and anything to do with the kitchen. Wilber extends that idea way way out—to God. Never in a million years would I (says the person in Mali, for example) have thought God or religion could be conceived in ways that contrast so hugely with my own. But now that I have learned about some of them, my world view and life could change profoundly (June 28, 2009).
I remember how amused I was when I accidentally opened Carroll's blog and found this post. I even spontaneously wrote him an email expressing my gratitude for his books and a joy that he, too, is getting somehow influenced by integral ideas as expressed by Wilber. Don't know if the email ever reached him though for I haven't received a reply (probably, it got lost among the tons of other fan mail). Let me quote most parts of it here:
Dear Jonathan Carroll:
I'm clinical psychology student from Russia (if I manage not to drop out on my senior year, of course). But that's not the point of this letter. The point is rather different. I'm in love with your books. I read everything I could find translated in Russian… and I'm waiting for an opportunity to buy your English books and re-read everything once again. It also happens that I'm scholar of Ken Wilber's works. It also happens that my life, my dreams, my soul, and the fabric of whatever happens in my world seems to me as being closely interlinked with the things I read. And I still can't quite figure out whose works influenced my today's consciousness more -- yours, Ken's or Neil Gaiman's. (Sorry, but I gotta admit that I'm a big fan of Neil's works, too.)

Anyway, during these two weeks, among other things, I finished reading three books. Your Bones of the Moon, Neil's InterWorld (actually, finished reading it just an hour ago), and Ken's One Taste and The Marriage of Sense and Soul (it was the first time I read those in English [and I read the former some years ago in Russian]). Freaky enough, I find that the taste of all these books is somewhat similar. I have that bad habit of immersing into whatever I read and attempting to intuit the possibilities towards greater and deeper dimensions of psyche and consciousness in it. For instance, I always sense a lot of transpersonal and transrational stuff (which doesn't look prerational to me) going on in your books, not to mention the play of Jungian-like archetypes and so on; and when I read your books, Neil's books, and Ken's books there's that unmistakable state of deeper translucence that makes all the dimensions of dream-and-reality dialogically interpenetrate—at least in my worldspace. For me your stories are keyless gates to deeper, broader states of consciousness. Believe it or not, this unmistakable recognition of the great story narrative supportive towards awakening of one's own deeper potentials is what I have always found as striking features in both your, Neil's and Ken's books. And it's even that I have been wondering whether it is possible that the art you're all working on is essentially of the same transcendental and transformational nature, pointing towards deeper dimensions and depths of the soul.

I am pretty sure that what both you and Neil are doing as artists is what can be called a contemporary transcendental art, transcendental because it transcends and integrates fragments of realities, be it the realities of waking & dreaming or realities of persona & shadow or realities of ordinary and transordinary. Ken Wilber, when speaking of integral art (you can find an essay on art here and there; see also two beautiful chapters in his The Eye of Spirit), said an interesting formula: Bad Art Copies, Good Art Creates, Great Art Transcends. Alex Grey, a famous integral artist (whose paintings have been of guidance for me), writes:
Ken has stated numerous times, and I agree, that art is an essentialized worldview, or as Bachelard called it, "a metaphysics in a moment." Over the millenia, culture has embodied worldviews that both express and guide the attitudes of the people. As artists, we need to be conscious of and responsible for the views we transmit through our work. We need to use all the tools available to re-invent and invigorate our field, and to my mind, Ken provides the amazing tool of a worldview that makes peace between the quarrelsome territories of science, art and religion. After the dissociation and alienation of artists and their communities over the past 120 years, Wilber's integrative approach holds much promise. He has lead the way beyond current post-modern thinking toward an integral approach to art, toward an art of the soul.
I would say that your art has done exactly that to my injured Russian soul that wanders in the wastelands of a collapsed country which has been experiencing a cultural disaster for more than 100 years. Your stories have been very helpful in terms of healing my soul and awakening it towards the deepest potentialities of its individuality. I remember thinking: there's gotta be something in common among these guys, I feel it with my heart, now what I need is evidence that I'm not making this up... So it was quite a surprise to read your CarrollBlog 6.28, in which you mention "listening to a lecture by Ken Wilber about consciousness." I was very delighted, because synchronicities play a very profound role in my life stream. It was "an accident" that I decided to browse your website (which I usually don't do), after reading that Neil's book in the period where everything I do is closely intertwined with Ken Wilber's philosophy. This is no accident that Ken calls himself not a philosopher... but a storyteller, a Kosmic storyteller. And I think of the universes you unfold in your stories as of the Kosmic stories as well; for me, they are visionary stories that open doors to something which is ready to emerge but is not yet here. . . .
I hope this email reaches you; and you'll have time to read it and perhaps even to respond, if it touches you. As for myself, I'm relieved, for I knew that I'm not crazy in sensing that what you do isn't simply an art confined into its own boundaries, and what Ken does isn't simply a cognitive philosophy confined to its own boundaries... everything becomes fluid, dialectical, and translucent. Which is groovy, indeed! Whenever I get your book or Neil's book or Ken's book, they always and instantaneously become my top priority in reading list; and I basically stop doing everything else besides reading, because these stories always offer gems of a deeper awareness. This is why I'm very grateful for being able to enjoy the brilliance and writing genius of all of you.
Kind regards,
Eugene Pustoshkin
Now I'd like to come back to the first point about slaughtering our finest impulses. After I posted what you have hopefully read above I went on reading Carroll's blog. There is one post that he wrote that I find right on money, so I am going to quote it:
I was reading an issue of MEN'S JOURNAL magazine. The lead article was "100 Things To Do Before You Die." On the list were things like climb Mt. Everest, parachute from a plane, hand feed a shark, etcetera. I skimmed the other things they suggested should be on everyone's list. I had no desire to do even one of them. So then I thought is there anything I'd like to do before I die that I haven't done yet? Hypothetically if someone is living fully, they're doing what matters (or is important) to them whenever and however they can. There's something pathetic about having to make lists of tasks to do before you die so you can be sure that by doing them, you will have really "lived." The Japanese say "live every day as if your hair was on fire" and within realistic bounds, that sounds just about right. Most of the time we know almost as soon as a situation arises whether we will later regret not doing it. We also know most of the time that despite the many fearful, well behaved inner voices telling us not to do something, that we should ignore those voices and just go ahead and do it. Because when we do it and it works, it makes us bigger and life richer. If it fails, we hurt for a while but generally then heal and move on. You don't need to climb Mt. Everest to have led a fulfilled life. You only have to have the courage, and usually it is only small courage, to say yes. Say yes and do something when your first, second and third instincts may be to say no because that frightens me (March 18, 2010).
Indeed.

Friday, April 2, 2010

Anaesthesia psychica dolorosa

In order to complete my graduation research I interview and conduct psychological testing of depressive patients at the V. M. Bekhterev Psychoneurological Research Institute, which is situated in an industrial district of St. Petersburg, Russia, the city where I live. Some time later I want to tell here the story of Vladimir Bekhterev (1857—1927), the founder of this institute, who in the beginning of the 20th century embraced a truly integral framework, attempted to integrate individual and social psychology, neurology and behavioral studies, materialism and spirituality in a unified gesture of his works. Bekhterev was a person of profound spiritual insight, possibly having a stable access to witnessing consciousness; he is also known for his studies on the subjects of telepathy, clairvoyance, hypnosis, and  other altered states of consciousness. He was a founder of some of the major schools of the Soviet psychology. It is rumored that he was murdered by Joseph Stalin after assessing him as mentally ill. But all of this in a hopefully forthcoming post; right now I want to speak about something else.

With depressive patients I conduct a simple semi-structured interview that I designed based on The Integral Intake form created by Andre Marquis. Since I am doing an empirical research at this point and, therefore, am not working with the patients as a consultant or a therapist I significantly shortened the number of questions. In general, however, I am attempting to make a survey that touches some points that are essential to my research in all quadrants (psychological, behavioral, social, and cultural, including inquiries regarding patient's current state of consciousness, education, professional background, sleep behavior, destructive and self-destructive tendencies, sociocultural activities, religious attitudes, the meaning of life, and so on). (Initially, I wanted to do a different kind of research involving the state of consciousness assessment but it appeared that I didn't have enough time, tools, and support to complete such an investigation prior to graduation. As you may see, I still inserted some of the questions regarding the first-person experience into the qualitative part of my study.)

In the beginning of the week I interviewed a patient diagnosed with recurrent depressive disorder. A woman, 27 years old, has two kids. One of the striking features of her current state, based on her first-person account, was acute depersonalization, a condition that was historically called anaesthesia psychica dolorosa. This condition is characterized by painful mental insensibility, apathy, anhedonia, alienation from the self and others, lack of emotions, feelings, and concerns for oneself and relatives (in this case, including husband and children). She characterized her state as the state of "emptiness," "lack of feelings," "lack of love." This lack of feelings causes acute psychic pain, an overwhelming feeling of loss, of missing something important. This leads to intensifying questioning of the purpose and meaning of life and whether it is possible to continue living in such a disturbed state of consciousness.

During the clinical interview I asked a usual question in this case, which is about whether she currently experiences suicidal thoughts. She replied affirmatively and stated that in February (before being hospitalized) she actually made a suicidal attempt (took some pills) because she didn't want to live anymore, life was meaningless. After the interview, when I read her case file, I haven't found any mention of suicidal attempts or dangerous self-destructive tendencies, which was surprising because these are foundational data that must be gathered during the medical history examination by a psychiatrist (and, in the case, it is repeated over and over that there are no dangerous behavioral tendencies observed). I informed the local clinical psychologist, a graduate student with whom I collaborate on this research, and asked her to tell the doctor about these findings of mine, that this woman's behavior should probably be observed more closely. I also rated her very high on the clinical depersonalization scale (it was actually the first time I used that scale); and the tests results came also with very low scores in all essential indexes. All of it I sent by email right away. The response I got was that the doctor was aware of the suicidal attempt and "it was demonstrative" (no mention of it in the case file) and he was also aware of her suicidal thoughts (while the case file stated no dangerous behavioral tendencies). Today, I received an email from the clinical psychologist saying that in the morning the patient attempted a suicide by cutting her wrists (fortunately, unsuccessfully), so I was right when raising my concerns regarding her current psychoemotional condition. The patient is now under a special observation. 

Now I'm left with mixed feelings. It was the first patient whom I interviewed of whom I am aware that she attempted a suicide afterward. In fact, I read a case file of another patient whom I interviewed on the same day in which there was a doctor's note (dated the next day after my interview) that the patient feels better. Obviously, I don't think that the simple interview and attention of psychologist (i.e. me) was the crucial factor, but I think the change was at least in some ways supported by the interview because usually by the end of the interview patients leave seemingly in a better state than that which I observed in the beginning (as in that particular case). In the case of the suicidal patient she was very fixed on her depressed emotional state and showed little, if any, improvement by the end of the interview. (Pharmacotherapy, according to the patient's subjective account, didn't seem to help alleviating her interior pain either.)

Every time I meet patients for an interview it is always a challenge for me, because on the subtler level of communication I become increasingly aware of the qualia of the state of consciousness the patients are in; and I attempt to give full space to this state in my awareness. Most of the time after meeting especially strong cases I recognize shifts in my own mood and state of consciousness. I haven't learned yet how to minimize these effects; and I am not sure they must be minimized. As one my friend said, in the process of any kind of healing the most valuable gift is the pain one suffers. Pain is what is usually an authentic connection to experiencing reality; anything else may be more of an illusion.

Tuesday, March 30, 2010

The writer's block?

In the mandala of our consciousness we are all in a sense artists. This is something that Alex Grey has recognized in his famous "The Vast Expanse" psalm:
Create perfection wherever you go with your awareness. That is why this teaching is admired by artists—they sense the correctness of the response to life as creative. Life is infinite creative play. Enjoyment and participation in this creative play is the artists profound joy. We co-author every moment with universal creativity. . . .
Artistic response (rather than conditioned reaction) to life is at least one-third of what we are as human beings. Integral philosopher Ken Wilber points out that virtually every greatest thinker in the history of humankind (from Plato to Kant to Habermas) acknowledged the Big Three, the triumvirate of perspectives—the Good, the True, and the Beautiful in the philosophy of Plato, for instance—to be the essential dimensions of our being-in-the-world.

Yes, it is important to subject ourselves to the oughts and shoulds of what must be done by us so as to fulfill our destinies (moral). Yes, it is important to subject ourselves to the truths and facts of coming to terms with the cruel reality—and not escaping from it into the vertigo of fantasies and illusions and false hopes (knowledge). But, as Kant argues in his concluding Critique of Judgment, without a cornerstone dimension of aesthetic response to life these other dimensions remain detached from each other. To embody our life as a play of creativity (as a form of art), as I see it, is a foundational component of a healthy and integrated existence.

Playfully writing one's own narrative of life and transcending a writer's block, the blockage that leads to copy&pasting of an old habitual storyline that we learned at some point and that makes us non-existent to ourselves, always looking for new ways of self-expression in the seemingly limited context of our life's framework, constantly searching for new tools for transcending that frame and finding new perspectives to it seems to be a way to balance the Big Three in one's own life. If I deny myself of this courageous creative response to life, I deny myself of life itself.

It is important to embody the Spirit's creativity in a canvas of the individual levels of our being, including the Soul, the ego, the adaptive personae, and the body. It is important to trust one's own artistic feeling that arises in the depths of the Heart. It is important to learn in action how to be a better artist of life than the moment before, to keep searching for new curves and touches in life, to keep looking for novel ways of self-expressing perfection while always already being a manifestation of the ultimate Stillness.

Otherwise life becomes a dull and in/efficient affair of a robot-like human mechanism that keeps self-replicating old constellations of patterns and occasionally passes the Turing test strictly by an accident.

And, as Elizabeth Gilbert wonderfully points out, when undertaking any form of art it is crucial to recognize that one's own creativity is not a private property or a selfish achievement, it manifests rather like a gift of Spirit. Even if your art is your life story (and it always is) the same writer's block rule still works; and you can get stuck, as we all do. Your life as a work of art doesn't belong strictly to your individual being, most certainly not to your personae or ego or even Soul, even though the latter comes closer to the essential Source. You can't force it, you have to let it grow.

P.S. And if you are forgetting both the dignity of being an artist and the humility of being a work of art by falling, e.g., into the dominance of either shoulds or facts I ought to wake you up by asking a simple question, the question that highlights the importance of your qualia or subjective joy of being:

"Why so serious?"

(A still from a highly recommended movie on the topic, The Dark Knight.)

Sunday, March 21, 2010

Architectonics of the Self

If the sky were to suddenly open up... there would be no law... there would be no rule. There would only be you and your memories... the choices you've made and the people you've touched. The life that has been carved out from your subconscious is the only evidence by which you will be judged... by which you must judge yourself. Because when this world ends, there will only be you and him... and no one else.
Donnie Darko (2001)
Who am I? There are always many ways to be answering this question. Every moment in life I am this or that, such and such, that's me, that's not me, this is mine, and this is not. Everywhere I go the sense of self follows my footsteps closely and generates the I-ness and the me-ness and the mine-ness of my being-in-the-world. The sense of identity can be very concrete for some people and it can be quite fleeting for others, but even when that which I am identified with changes rapidly there is always an intimate self-sense present to the sacrament of life, however big or small, strong or fluid, convenient or unconvincing, conscious or unconscious, personal or depersonalized and so on. It can be very dynamic, flaky even, and yet it undeniably exists.

The overall pattern of the self's manifestation as it is seen by a witness looking from the outside can be called personality (in a somewhat narrow meaning of this term); the overall pattern of the self's manifestation as it is seen by a witness objectively looking inside can be called self-system. The total kaleidoscope of fluctuating identities and self-perspectives I would call architectonics of the self, and it is a penetrating look into the mystery of the architectonics of the self that could bring forth a first glimpse for a satisfying answer to the question of self-identity. This is even more evident if one encounters the complexity dilemma of simple, however experientially grounded, answer "there is no I" being as much unsatisfactory as defining the self-sense in a reductionistic static way as something concrete—indeed, as some thing at all.

When one attempts to speak of the architectonics of the self, it is absolutely crucial, in my opinion, to mention the name of Vasily Vasilyevich Nalimov (1910-1997), a truly unsung hero of our time. In his numerous works, published in Russian, English, and German, Nalimov was tackling different issues all related to the basic question of science, existence, personality, and consciousness. A member of a Moscow mystical anarchist circle back in 1920s, ex-prisoner of Stalin's concentration camps, the last and lonely knight of the Eastern wing of Templars; a renowned mainstream mathematician and a physicists who worked in the laboratory of A. Kolmogorov; an influential transpersonal philosopher, a gnostic, and a truth-seeker, he shined throughout his life with profound intelligence, adamant will, and a commitment to knowledge, honesty, and freedom. In 1970s and 1980s, many years before Soviet people were able to learn about the West and its recent cultural trends, he was writing about such transpersonal authors as C. Castaneda, S. Grof, Ch. Tart, and K. Wilber; in a thoroughly fundamentalistic-atheistic society he was openly asking the questions of meaning, life, God,  the universe, and the Ultimate Reality—something that had long been forbidden in the USSR and, probably, is still unprecedented in the Post-Soviet countries. (For more information on Nalimov see, e.g., Wikipedia article, Eugene Garfield's web page, and Thompson, 1993.)

In his book The Spontaneity of Consciousness (Спонтанность сознания [Spontannost' soznaniya], 1st Russian ed., 1989/2nd Russian ed., 2007), Nalimov attempted to draw what he called  architectonics of personality or self. Now, in the Russian language the word personality (личность [lichnost']) has many meanings; and it can be translated to English basically both as a personality and as Self (in its broadest sense). Most certainly, Nalimov's probabilistic vision of language would require taking into account the total variability of the word's semantics.

Nalimov writes the following about the intention of the book in question:
In this work we want to focus on the problem of architectonics of the Self with the hope that this way the nature of the Self will appear before us as an ultimately accessible manifestation of reality—the manifestation in which reality discloses itself through ourselves. First of all, we will consider the Self to be a carrier of meanings, thus exploring its linguistic (semantic) nature.
We fully recognize that any attempt to build such a model of the Self includes not only and mainly knowing but rather not-knowing. The deeper and clearer we are drawing an image of the Self, the clearer the patterns of that which we do not know appear. Not-knowing is always richer than our knowing. Not-knowing—the not-knowing contours of which we can delineate—provokes us, makes us seek, makes us look at the World and our own being with wonder. In this wonder life becomes full of meaning. That which modern psychiatrists tend to call existential emptiness disappears.
Before we continue I should note that it is always very hard to describe views of a thinker of such high altitude and magnitude as V. Nalimov in a short essay. He was a strong proponent of postformal thinking (which he called a probabilistic vision); he was a founding father of the field of scientometrics; he developed a probabilistic view of language that includes both discrete and continual aspects; he tried to create a postformal panoramic view of the universe and consciousness so as to find meaning in the fact that there is something rather than nothing. In his writings he was dialoguing through books with Plato, Aristotle, Plotinus, Buddha, Christ, St. Augustine, Meister Eckhart, Pseudo-Dionysius the Areopagite, Kant, Hegel, Nietzsche, Freud, Jung, Heidegger, Sartre, Derrida, Popper (with Sir Karl Popper he actually exchanged correspondence), early Ken Wilber, and so on. In an oppressive state of the Soviet Union he was a liberated thinker, a free soul whose transtemporal and transspatial flight couldn't be held by physical or social restrictions and boundaries.

In my opinion, the best of his approach that we can take may not be the concrete ideas themselves but the span and the depths of the questions and problems he inquires into. In The Spontaneity of Consciousness he quotes Maeterlinck: "The greatness of a human being is measured according to the greatness of mysteries that perplex him or that make him surrender." (I didn't find the quotation as it is translated in English, so I translated it from Russian; the phrase in original Maeterlinck's language and the way it is translated to English can differ significantly.)

When contemplating such complex subject as what the actual meaning and structure of the Self is, I believe, it is absolutely crucial to adopt the most panoramic and integral vision one can, otherwise the attempts of knowing would be childish and reductionistic. In the spirit of this approach facing reality means facing its ultimate mystery and pure silent not-knowing which is the ultimate knowledge itself. Immanuel Kant said: "Two things awe me most, the starry sky above me and the moral law within me." Gazing at the stars and contemplating the depth within can bring nothing else but the state of profound awe and not-knowing, not-knowing that is self-liberating. I resonate a lot with this stance of Nalimov and most mystics, the perspective that sees and feels the universe as a constant unfolding of the Mystery.

The first Mystery that we encounter is the mystery of our own existence. Most people in the world go on in their lives ritualistically thinking and perpetuating the thought that what they think is what they are. In fact, as long as they continue ritualistically doing whatever they are doing without asking this profound question of who am I and what does it all mean in some ways they don't even exist. By saying that they don't even exist of course I don't say that they are zombies without consciousness, what I am saying is that they are not fully aware of their existence. Most of our adult lives we are running away from the very fact that we are here, from the fact that there is the starry sky above us and the moral law within us, we are numbing ourselves to our being. We constantly dissolve ourselves in our personalized me on, which is Greek for non-being, by habitually pursuing the games we learned to play and telling each others limited stories we learned to narrate.

The most obvious example of this running from one's own authenticity can be encountered in a therapist office (and actually in any occasion where there is an opportunity for a field of intersubjective resonance to arise). Sigmund Freud was one of the first to show that we are not what we rationally think of ourselves or even how we feel about ourselves, that there is much more in our personalities, in our selves hidden beneath the iceberg of that which we are used to be aware of. Further advancements in the science of therapy and healing demonstrated that most of our lives we live according to a matrix of experience that has been forming during the early and not-so-early years of our lives. In fact, our life is grounded in the illusory feeling of knowing, in a feeling that we know what our life is about with all its upsides and downsides. We think that this—whatever this that happens to be entering our conscious awareness—is what life is about. We constantly run in circles in the self-built corridors of our "known life" and recreate on multiple levels the limited story that we learned about ourselves and the world; and there is no space for not-knowing in this story. The basic mystery of existence is something that shatters our house made of cards and brings terror to our life because in our selves we are used to identify with a limited range of possibilities and experiential realities.

And then suddenly it strikes us that we are getting divorced three times in a row, that we keep losing friends and alienating people, that our beloved children don't want to talk to us, that we have cancer, that we are going to die today—and then, at the moments like this, we look into the face in front of us with awe and not-knowing-ness: who is this person in front of me, whom I have always thought I have known? At whom does this face look? Who am I, really?

Something else can happen that will disclose this basic gap between our conscious self and the overall self, between the relationships that we picture in our minds and actual totality of processes happening around us, involving us as participants and transforming us constantly, every minute, every second, every moment of Kosmic existence. A policeman takes a gun and kills ten innocent people in a supermarket; a schoolboy does the same at school. Anomaly arises in our minds; something tells us that we are not seeing a crucial aspect of reality and it is killing us or makes us anxious and we desperately want to wake up. As we are gradually waking up we look in astonishment at the unconscious processes, scripts, stories, and scenarios we were so used to follow, the patterns that constantly recreate and magnify suffering in us and others. The emerging sense of amazement and wonder brings us closer to the determination to become truly liberated, truly conscious, truly wise so as to participate fully in the festival of life and co-creation.

Every human being has a profound depth hidden in his or her consciousness and self. An old homeless person taking care of her pushchair with bandboxes and empty bottles that for months has been her last resort. An imprisoned oligarch who declined to leave the country because of his pride and dignity. A president who looks sicker and sicker with every year he is in power. A young university teacher who keeps wondering about her life while living in a dry academic environment. A psychiatrist who suffers more than some of his patients. A schoolboy who passionately fell in love with the Goddess for the first time. A detective who ruins his career because he can't stand corruption anymore...

The architectonics of the Self that I am talking about includes not only what we think of ourselves in our minds. We ourselves are a mystery. We are what we eat, we are what we talk, we are what we think, we are what we see, we are how we move, we are what we feel, we are the scripts we play, we are the light we shine, we are the darkness we emit, we are everything that happens in this particular manifestation of our individual being-in-the-world. Our self includes everything, from the birth to the death; it goes through time and space; it weaves together aspects of  Kosmic being and experience like wind gathers together clouds in the sky. We are the Witness and the Witnessed in its many ways of manifestation and interconnectedness.