Cracked Open

By Salman S                                                                                                                            salman.arc@gmail.com

All characters appearing in this work are real. Any resemblance to fictitious persons, living are dead is purely coincidental.

shaayad ke zamii.N hai wo kisii aur jahaa.N kii
tuu jisako samajhataa hai falak apane jahaa.N kaa  

What do you think Jill Bolte Tyler, Eckhart Tolle and Ahmad Rafiq Akhtar have in common? For some, perhaps the right question would be, who are these people and why should I care anyway? Let me try to address this with another question. If I ask you, where did your question come from? Perhaps your response would be: “It’s logical, I came up with it using my mind wise guy”. I would then argue that apparently you are considering your “mind” something distinct from “I”; so would you mind explaining who that “I” is, what is it that you are calling “mind” and which one of these suddenly “came up” with “thoughts”? Couple of things can happen from this point onwards. Our communication totally breaks down as you have better things to do with your time; already disillusioned by the onslaught of new age philosophies you take a big yawn and move on to your favourite blog; or perhaps you sense that these three folks may just have some pointers in response to the “thought provoking” question I have posed in our dialog.

I thank all who decided to stick around and yes, all three names mentioned above share something common. To date they are all alive, all went through personal experiences before capturing and sharing their opinions about the nature of process of thinking and all of them provide a unique and insightful window into this fascinating microcosm we call human mind. Please note that the text to follow is not an attempt to belittle the immense body of knowledge and research which already exist on this subject but rather attempts to take a different perspective relating to the life you and I experience on a day to day basis.                 

September 2010: 4:55 PM: Downtown Vancouver

South bound trains were frequent and tethering with passenger load on this grey and rainy Tuesday evening on China Town station. After three consecutive unsuccessful attempts in last 10 minutes of jamming my way into any of these, it was time to change strategy. I relocated myself to the farthest corner of the platform, made sure that I am the first person behind yellow line as I planned to produce one big “excuse me” from the bottom of my lungs with my body following the trajectory of laptop carrier right into the train door.

With trains only couple of minutes apart in the rush hour, I could see the destination sign blinking yet again. Seconds later head wind was blowing into the platform to be immediately followed by now very familiar grinding sounds of metallic wheels making contact with short gauge track. What seemed to be a haphazard and apparently bored crowd suddenly woke up and got involved, eye balls started scrutinizing every car entering into the platform with laser sharp focus, hand grips unconsciously tightening on their payloads and steps quickly adjusting to the stance providing the best possible chance to get in. It was going to get tricky and yet again only to be dealt with that strange mix of utter chaos and legendary Western discipline.

All cars were visibly jammed packed and I was not the only one to observe that. Last car halted, with doors sliding open laterally right in front of me as I waited for full 5 seconds, expecting first wave of exits spitted out before launching myself in. I just needed that one person to step out to acquire the left over space. That person never came out. Approaching t+15 seconds I panicked and commit the fatal mistake of leaving my spot and went after the car behind which was being worked upon by only 2 candidates in front. At t+25 those 2 candidates successfully stuffed themselves into the car and joined the rest of the eyes inside; which by now were screaming a big collective “don’t you even dare” look at me. For some inexplicable reason I had to look back to the spot I left. An exiting electric wheel chair had finally made it out and doors were now closing in. Train left at t+30 seconds. Something of this sort has happened before.

(Do you remember the spinning umbrella in 70’s Pakistani movies used for flashbacks?)

August 12, 2001: 11:15 PM:  Lahore Railway Station

The fact that it was deep in the night was not helping at all with that monsoon laden hot and humid mixture of air and legendary Lahore dust. Add to this aroma, smoke originating from those 24x7 kebab shops conveniently located in and around city railway station and I am sure you will get the common gist of the Urdu word “hubbs” and its Latin brother “habeas corpus”.

Task today was not easy. Wagon route 47 was one of the longest in the city, running from city railway station to Township, a southern suburb of Lahore proper and my final destination tonight. The other choice was hiring a rikshaw. While rikshaw may be a familiar entity to most, it’s the legendary Lahore ‘mini-wagon’ which deserves a brief explanatory note for the benefits of those lucky ones who always had an alternative. Let’s start from interior. The seating arrangement is the brain child of someone who has that sharp techno-business savviness perhaps only to be found in passenger airliner designers. Aside from successfully applying serious business concepts like economies of scale on 4 wheels, the ride offers an unmatched experience when it comes to doing away with some nonsensical concepts like comfort, leg room, cleanliness, fresh air and human dignity. Just when you think you have figured out how a 12 passenger vehicle can possibly seat 20, get ready to make room for another four and leave the mechanics of it to that master mind conductor hanging on the outside with the half open door. The very same door which can only be unlocked from outside, primarily to discourage weak hearted passenger who may have seconds thoughts and try to eject mid-flight. To quote Eckhart Tolle: “If you want to check if you are enlightened, spend a week with your parents”. I dare say that the same validation can be achieved in a single wagon trip from Lahore Railway Station to Township. 

I joined the waiting passengers club. Taking stalk of the situation, I could see four possible contenders for seats on the next wagon, possibly the last one of the day. Three of them were young happy lads in their teens and by the haircut and body language were most likely armed forces cadets visiting home for a break. Fourth one was a run of a mill “Lahoree Baba”. Fifty something, thinned framed, medium height, half bearded sun struck face, squatting down in his pale coloured “shalwar-qameez” next to the broken waiting bench. He was thoroughly enjoying the company of his filter-less “Camel” brand cigarette trapped between middle and ring finger of his left hand. He also had a pocket radio clenched close to right cheek but apparently was having some trouble with it. Finding me as the nearest “parrhaa-likhaa bandaa” he requested me to take a look at it. A well beaten up Sony transistor had his named boldly written in Urdu with a permanent white marker on the tuning band window: “Saabir”.

I was about to give up on the radio when route 47 wagon appeared from nowhere. Conductor was already hanging outside the sliding door. That was not a good sign. It never bothered to come to a complete stop. Cadets and Saabir anticipated the trajectory of the vehicle much better than me and were quickly scooped in by conductor within couple of seconds of running parallel to the wagon. Following the suite I made my dash. Playing mind games, wagon driver (a.k.a pilot as scribed on the door next to an F-16 image) was deliberately trotting with just enough pace to not let gasping passenger loose his heart. Pulling along all 6 and a quarter feet of my body with a 20lb bag as pay load, I got parallel to the open sliding door only to face a coloured wall of “shalwaars” and “qameezes”. With his left arm fully expanded and in between yelling the destinations names in rapid fire sequences, the conductor somehow managed to encourage me to take the plunge in. But I could not see even an inch to put my feet on let alone dare to get inside. Wagon started to pick pace.

What followed next can probably be best imagined as a slow-mo sequence from “Untouchables”. Saabir’s head popped out of open wagon door. High volume interior Lahori slang started to come out from his mouth, eloquently describing intimate family affairs of conductor and driver for the amusement of rest of the passengers. Wagon came to a sudden halt and Saabir’s head being true to Newtonian mechanics disappeared once again into the human blob. Five seconds later Saabir along with his radio was ejected out in one piece. Landing safely on his feet, he continued on with the remaining of the family briefing. Walking away from the wagon he looked up at me for one quick second, smiled wryly and winked in a meaningful way. Wagon started to move again and this time almost mechanically conductor scooped me in.

July 9, 1985: 6:30 AM: Rajanpur Junction

“Kafeel Bhai of Ghotkee - World’s greatest left arm and right arm googlee bowler...”. Holding the flask in my hand, I was staring at the back-plane of the limping truck having that legendary “monogram” sandwiched between an oddly painted eagle and equally oddly dented F-16 representation. Nobody who has traversed on GT road in last 3 decades can claim not to have seen the same signature art form.

Just 4 hours ago I was lying at the top of this overloaded truck among fertilizers sacks, chatting away with Mohammad Ali - the cleaner and a local football hero. Truck crew was kind enough to stop by our stalled Jeep on a deserted South Punjab road and made space for my parents and younger brother in “red-lit” front capsule as I was escorted up the open air top in the back. Close to the dawn we were dropped off at Rajanpur Junction and said goodbyes and thanks to our good Samaritans, perhaps never to see each other again.

About an hour later I saw Mohammad Ali’s smiling face at the entrance of the “Darjaa Awwal” waiting room on platform number 1 (and incidentally the only one) where I was dozing off with my parents. He uttered a low volume whistle to call me out and quietly handed me over our flask which we have left in the truck.

The Explorer

Imagine yourself growing up in urban surrounding of 80’s of Pakistan and having an extremely curious and equally shy personality. Not trusting the air around you and at the same time getting exposed to some serious literature, the natural outcome would be you becoming an introvert information sponge. Nurturing a wide aesthetic bandwidth and no particular objective in mind, this is what I ended up experiencing and consequently could not help but getting drowned into this sea of content. Anything and everything would go. Between “Jasoosee Digest” to “Ibne-Safi”, from  “Yadon Kee Baraat” to “Abduallah Malik”, from “Shorash Kashmiri” to “Maxim Gorky”, from “Enid Blyton” to “Sidney Sheldon”, from “Syed Sulaiman Nadvi” to “Abul-Aala-Modooddi”, from “The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich” to “Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee” and from “Story of Philosophy” to “History of the World”. This was my world in late 80’s. And yes all of it did bring in its due share of confusions and thought imbalances, at an age at which you are stupid enough to voluntarily open up for your cricket team without wearing a guard on a grass top uneven pitch. If you are ever hit by a brand new cricket ball on the groin you very well know what I mean!

Fast forwarding two decades, among a whole range of other fundamental questions, one of the most sought after one for me still remains understanding the mechanics of human thought process. How does thinking happen? What is the nature of thought? Who initiates thoughts? Who is a thinker? What do we mean when we say “I think therefore I am”? Are there any agents involved in thought process? Is thought part of instinct or something above and beyond? Is thought able to explain and express itself? Is thought just a chemical phenomenon or does it have some non-material existence?

Now surely I am not the first or the only one to have these questions, as validated from philosophy, history and psychology literature of the world and I am equally certain that the similar questions must have passed as your “thought“ streams at some stage. My intention is not to refer back to all the classical literature written on this subject but rather share a new age perspective of some extremely interesting and equally opinionated lives I have encountered surrounding this topic. What you will find interesting is that these opinions are primarily based on personal experiences and have their foundations deeply rooted in emotional intelligence as oppose to classical research methodologies. For some of my hopelessly left minded friends (please see Steven Pinkers “A Whole New Mind”) this new age mumbo-jumbo probably will not cut it. What follows could hardly be useful in the CSS exam or infer out a PHD thesis idea, let alone using it as a knockout punch in your next philosophical debate with your Uncles in Gymkhana. What I can assure you however is that if you are able to get the gist of even few of the ideas shared by these souls, your lives would be profoundly different as I am steadily discovering. Without further ado please meet Jill Bolte Tylor.   

The Anatomical

The year was 1996 and at the age of 35, Harvard trained neuroanatomist Jill Bolte Tyler was the youngest ever board member at the National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI). She was at the peak of her carrier researching towards her goal of understanding the chemistry of the brain related illnesses like schizophrenia, the very same disease which brought serious suffering for his brother 2 years ago. In December of same year, the unfortunate and ironical happened. Jill had a stroke. In matter of hours, the haemorrhage and blood clot shut down all activity in the left hemisphere of her brain. With only her right brain remaining active she could easily have suffered the same fate that so many other stroke patients have, never been able to turn back to what we called normal brain activity for the rest of their lives. Jill’s story however had to be different, perhaps to allow the rest of us to have a rare glimpse into the inner workings of human brain and it miracles. After eight years of intense personal perseverance and with the help of an extraordinarily dedicated mother, Jill was able to fully recover, reconnected lost connections of her brain and survived to tell her story. Perhaps the best way to describe the first few hours of the stroke would be in her own words as narrated in her book “My Stroke of Insight”.

“As my cognitive mind searched for an explanation about was happening anatomically inside my brain, I reeled backward in response to the augmented roar of the water as the unexpected noise pierced my delicate and aching brain. In that instant, I suddenly felt vulnerable, and I noticed that the constant brain chatter that routinely familiarized me with my surroundings was no longer a predictable and constant flow of conversation. Instead, my verbal thoughts were now inconsistent, fragmented, and interrupted by an intermittent silence.......”

“By this point I had lost touch with much of the physical three-dimensional reality that surrounded me. My body was propped up against the shower wall and I found it odd that I was aware that I could no longer clearly discern the physical boundaries of where I began and where I ended. I sensed the composition of my being as that of a fluid rather than that of a solid. I no longer perceived myself as a whole object separate from everything. Instead, I now blended in with the space and flow around me. Beholding a growing sense of detachment between my cognitive mind and my ability to control and finely manipulate my fingers, the mass of my body felt heavy and my energy waned. “

The rest of the Jill’s story revolves around this center theme of cohesion, consciousness and bliss that she was able to experience due to an accident that shut down her brain portion responsible for producing most of the noisy chatter. With her left brain slowly and deliberately getting back to life she was able to describe in painstaking details the functional boundaries of each of the hemisphere and how they affect the way we think.

In her own words again: “We essentially have two very different brains in our head. Wouldn’t it be nice if we really had an understanding of how to capitalize on the whole organism and recognize when we are skewed more toward one type of thinking as opposed to another? And we’re not just skewed toward another type of thinking; it’s an arrogance that says that my type of thinking is more important or better than your type of thinking because I do it this way and you don’t. We have both hemispheres, and they are equal. One is not better than the other. It just makes us a little bit different in the processing of information.

Jill’s story provide an interesting perspective on the nature and behaviour of brain cell communication patterns, based on the hemisphere they belong to and how easily the messages can be distorted by external and internal imbalances. It also attempts to explain the difference between an automatic thinking pattern and a programmed one and how one can take equal advantage of both of them. Most importantly, backed with anatomical reasoning, the ordeal underlines the importance of acknowledging and exercising the power of choice when it comes to thinking. For those keen in knowing the cause and effects of events, perhaps this story provides ample technical validation as it is experienced and narrated first hand by a neuroscientist using the familiar notations. What that experience implied however, may not be as readily acceptable for most of my left dominant brain friends.

Mohammad Ali was totally irrational. He knew he would never see us again, knew about the gallons of diesel the truck would guzzle but still decided to come back all the way just to return our flask. He was able to connect at a different level.

        

The Logical

Ulrich Tolle refused to go to school at the age of 13. Born in 1948 in Lunan, Germany, Ulrich grew up as disturbed child due to family conflicts and eventually ended up developing acute depression into his late twenties. Things took a sudden change from thereon. Experiencing a  ‘flash’ of bliss at the height of intense anxiety and despair, he stumbled upon some very basic but powerfully logical thought constructs which not only completely changed the perspective of life for him but in the process also unearthed some very interesting principles of the mechanics of thought process itself.

World at large knows him now as Eckhart Tolle and he is been sharing his experiences and thoughts through his retreats, lectures and books for the last 10 years out of Vancouver, Canada. It was not until he and his famous book “Power of Now” joined the Oprah bandwagon that his popularity rocketed as yet another new age spiritual teacher coming to the rescue of a disillusioned Western world. He had received his fair share of criticism with both secular skeptics and religious quarters pitching in and calling him opportunist as well as attempting to broker yet another cult. This has also partly to do with the influences of eastern religions and mythologies which are quiet apparent in his teachings and thoughts in general.

Controversy aside, the most powerful and logical of his concepts are actually part of a very simple and effective self-inquiry system. Whereas these concepts may have been existing in philosophies, mythologies and ancient religions for ages, his real achievements is packaging and representing them in a manner to align them pragmatically with the thinking minds of this (so called) rational world of 21st century. He probably have summed it up very nicely in his own words here:

“The beginning of spiritual awakening is the realization that "I am not my thoughts," and "I am not my emotions." So there arises the ability suddenly to observe what the mind is doing, to observe thought processes, to become aware of repetitive thought patterns without being trapped in them, without being completely "in them." So there is a "standing back." It is the ability to observe what the mind is doing, and the ability also to observe an emotion. I define "emotion" as the body's reaction to what the mind is doing. The ability to "watch" that without being identified. That means your whole sense of identity shifts from being the thought or the emotion to being the "observing presence." “

Simply put it’s a three step mental realization based on decoupling, observing and letting go. Decoupling realizes that your self is above and beyond your thought stream; observing allows having a “viewport” into “thought backplane” within which thoughts land, mature, create emotions and then die; letting go accepts thought streams and their causal effects as first class citizens and respect them irrespective of the immediate consequence to yourself.

Another shortcoming of thinking process Eckhart brought to light was its severe dependency on space and time as explained elaborately in his book “Power of Now”. Human mind is tuned to think within the context of two key negative drivers, fear and frustration and in order to address these it uses the notion of time very cleverly to its advantage. Apparently an excessive amount of thinking happens about the events of past or future in the mind and this is the primary source of mental exhaustion. The thinking is more than always either judgemental or speculative and nobody needs an Eckhart Tolle to personally experience this fact. Take out the time factor and suddenly you only have present moment to think about and the world is not so much of a bad place after all!

Saabir totally missed the fact that it was the last wagon home when he jumped out of it to make space for me. Welcome to the “Power of Now”.

The Mystical

Ahmad Rafiq Akhtar abruptly left a reputable and stable teaching career to open up a crockery shop in Gojar Khan, a small town an hour’s drive away from the capital city of Pakistan. Born in 1941, exposed to a wealth of world literature and accompanying an exceptionally keen mind he started to ask some seriously loaded questions at a very early age. The kind of queries which frequently pop up probably in all maturing minds but unlike most, Rafiq decided to take these thought bubbles on a test drive. What we know of him today, it can be safely said that in this era of information overload, one would hardly be able to find a mind with such a total command on the contemporary knowledge domains this world has to offer. This fascinating mix of historical, philosophical, anthropological, mythological and religious insight provides a unique and multifaceted perspective when you are forming opinions around issues like identification of God, nature of man, essence of knowledge and sciences of thinking and emotions.

Let me attempt to summarize and share some of his opinions about mind and thoughts. Thoughts are externally triggered streams of proposals constantly landing on the backplane of human consciousness. These are not standalone structures and actually have families with linkages and correlations. Humans may not have any control on the incoming proposals, but can have the ability to observe, filter and act on them. What really separate men from boys is to know, that this ability to choose exists and to understand the difference between involuntary and voluntary thought patterns. With this core capability available to all of us, the sophistication level of this “thought backplane” does vary from person to person. At one extreme, basic human wants like fear, security, control and approval dominate the filtering process and at the other end grasp of moderated behaviours, unbiased knowledge and deep parapsychological practices can take it to unprecedented levels of refinement.

An augmenting aspect of Rafiq’s observations and experiences is that perhaps for the first time we have an introduction to the workings of the basic principles of a new branch of knowledge centered on this theme. This body of knowledge was initially theorized by 11th and 12th century mystics like Ibne-Arabi, but were never really established as a science which can be clinically practiced. Thanks to Rafiq, we now know that this “thought backplane” has a design blueprint and more importantly the patterns are so recurring that with proper tooling they can be read externally! Rafiq will tell you about the ontology, correlations, complexities, anomalies and attributes of this blueprint. He will tell you about the adaptabilities as well as repulsions you inherently have with other humans and non-humans actors around you. He will tell you about your core tendencies, opportunities and limitations and most importantly he will tell you who this “I” is when you say “I think”! There is a reason we always call him “Professor” Ahmad Rafiq Akhtar.

September 2010: 5:10 PM: Vancouver - Southbound Sky Train

Holding the metal pipe with one hand and gently rocking back and forth, I yanked my BlackBerry out with the other and quickly searched for any urgent emails. None to be found. Next 35 minutes were mine. I looked around and saw faces of every age, race and mood busy with themselves. Mostly like me, were fidgeting with smart phones and few with the evening tabloids. No familiar faces, no eye contacts, no friendly smiles. The kind of air you would expect on a tired midweek commute anyway. Time to make my BlackBerry busy again and the choice was between finishing off the PDF version of “Futuhaat-ul-Makki”, listening to “Radio Ambiance” live stream or gaze aimlessly out to the world passing by. Before any of that though, I needed to meet the deadline I set up for myself. I had to finalize the title of my most recent write up. BlackBerry memo was showing up two choices. “Cracked Open” or “I Choose Therefore I Am”. I picked the former.          

Post Script

Jill Bolte Tyler: Currently lives and works out of Bloomington, Indiana, US. She is frequently invited all over the world to speak about her experiences. You can see some of her lectures on TED.   

Eckhart Tolle: Currently lives and works out of Vancouver, Canada. He is an accomplished writer, engaging presenter and acclaimed top tier new age thought leader.             

Ahmad Rafiq Akhtar: Currently lives in Gojar Khan, Pakistan. Top mystic of his age, an excellent teacher and a profound healer who has influenced lives of a generation.

Mohammad Ali: Current location and status is unknown. Probably driving his own truck somewhere in South Punjab.

Saabir: Very likely dead by now due to lung cancer.

Cadets: Most likely Lt. Colonels in the armed forces.

Salman: On the transit train in Vancouver.