In Buddhist meditation, deep reflection on true nature of things should include meditation on the “I” as a body with form, name, life, and consciousness. Consciousness makes it possible for the “I” to be conscious of the “I”.
A component of “I” (the big and universal) is its own consciousness because without
it “I” (the small, particular) does not arise. Conversely, a content of the consciousness is the “I” it
is illuminating.
I do not know the purpose of life in general. But the
purpose of consciousness is to help the individual life in which it operates to live. That
means consciousness helps the “I” relate to the external world to survive
through the mind and sense organs and organs of action. That means desire is a
crucial inherent property or character of the mind. To survive is to eat and
breath and not be eaten by someone else.
Survival instinct requires the individual to be curious and explore.
Exploration and curiosity are part of seeking a mate also.
But that is a different story.
Exploration may yield something useful to survive which
means hope is part of it. But exploration may not yield anything useful to
survive but may land the “I”, the individual, in danger. Therefore, curiosity
is always tinged with caution and anxiety. That is how the “I” learns to
survive by trial, error and memory of past events.
In the process of taking care of individual needs to
survive, the individual forgets that
other individuals are also struggling with the same realities of life and
living. The individual also forgets that the construction of the external world
is the creation of the “I”, not the external world as it is, in its “suchness”.
Since “I” am partly made of my own consciousness and since
consciousness arises in “me” and since the particles and energy I am made of
pervade the entire cosmos (sarvavyapi) and also pervade every part of
my inside (antaryami), why not consider my body as similar to a mud pot
immersed in water, as had been suggested in the Vedic thoughts. The water
inside the pot is the same as the water outside. When the pot breaks, the water
remains as before.
Or consider myself as the wave, as the Buddhist teachings
say. The wave is the water. The wave is a transient thing with a form. When the
wave disappears it becomes one with water which was its base.
At the core, everything is made of particles of matter and
the associated energy which they carry. Reason does not lead us to a primordial cause, because if there was one, where did that come from? How can something
come from nothing? Can there be a causeless cause? Since scientific studies suggest that the cosmos we live in and experience are made of particles and energy which have been there eternally making up the unseen
aspects of the universe, why not call that particle-energy combination as the
Brahman or whatever name any culture wants to call and merge with that? And why
not concentrate on the present moment which is part of that eternity?
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