On self-sovereignty in the waking world
Control of one's thoughts and actions seems to be a universal virtue. What's in it for the individual, and what's the right way to undertake this enterprise of self-control?
Lao Tzu tells us that “he who conquers men has force, he who conquers himself is truly strong.” Tao Te Ching, Ch. 33.
From the Katha Upanishad:
When one lacks discrimination and his mind is undisciplined, the senses run hither and thither like wild horses. But they obey the rein like trained horses when one has discrimination and has made the mind one-pointed.
It’s not just an Eastern thing. The Stoics, of course, had a lot to say about the topic. Here’s a line from Marcus Aurelius:
Take me and cast me where thou wilt; for there I shall keep my divine part tranquil, that is, content, if it can feel and act conformably to its proper constitution. Meditations, Part VIII, para. 45.
So this idea of controlling the self (I like the term self-sovereignty) has as a fundamental aspect a controlling or management of the effects that the outside world has on one’s consciousness. To do it completely is a sort of transcendence or escape, or a complete equanimity. The attainment of nirvana, or the delivery into Heaven, is to be taken away from this “life in the flesh” (See Romans 8:5), or to escape the world of maya. Or closer to the ground, we may just go looking to transcendence for a "fix" or a "salve" to get through a rough time.
I suppose it's too good to be true. Thinking about it only on the surface one can be swept away or even seduced by transcendence or escape. But a more principled evaluation reveals the issue’s complex nature: a self-sovereignty that leads one only to transcendence and equanimity, at least for as long as we're alive, is incomplete.
Here’s how Jon Kabat-Zinn presents this idea:
The quest for spiritual unity, especially in youth, is often driven by naivete and a romantic yearning to transcend the pain, the suffering, and the responsibilities of this world of eachness and suchness, which includes the moist and the dark. Wherever You Go, There You Are, p. 267.
He goes on to say that the idea of transcendence can be "a great escape, a high-octane fuel for delusion." So that's why in Buddhism, for example, it's important to bring it back down, so to speak, to give practice to the Zen concept of being “free and easy in the marketplace.”
It’s a big part of the idea of the bodhisattva -- a being who, though fully enlightened, still keeps one foot in the temporal world because of his compassion for all sentient beings. One could also see the same idea manifested in Jesus. We are asked to believe that he was fully divine while walking the earth and associating with prostitutes and lepers and tax collectors. At an even deeper level, it’s the idea underlying the horror of the crucifixion -- the perfectly transcendent being dying a painful and ugly death. (See Philippians 2:8: "Being found in appearance as a man, He humbled Himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.")
These ideas seem helpful tools in navigating a path that leads one to joyfully participate in life's suffering. It's harder to do than one may think, but not necessarily for the reasons one may come up with at first.
