Consider this my case against consciousness. I am not promising a strong case, maybe an observation that flirts with becoming a rant. You will have to pardon me, I am consciously aware (ha!) that I don’t even understand what I am going to fail to convince you of. But there I go again, breaking the rules, the rule against trying to change minds. Understanding is always the aim, to express a thought that has been bothering me for a long time, a thought that insists on being voiced.
The breathless bowing in worship to consciousness, a phenomenon that emerges from Nature that most creatures, allowing a small assumption here or there, do not have to contend with, is far too one-sided. To many, consciousness is all that matters, even all that can matter. Me? I accept my lack of understanding, giving consideration to the possibility that consciousness is, like most everything we wonder about yet again, a narrowly useful adaptation of evolution taking place in one (or a limited number) of species in a limited corner of the universe. Heck, it might even be a relic or an accident that doesn’t get in the way of survival and just rides along, but let us not take this too far.
Being unconscious feels great. Wait, that’s not right. We don’t know what being unconscious feels like; we lack consciousness then. I look forward to being unconscious, and look back wistfully on those gaps in the record with unvarying fondness. Falling into bed, I’m looking forward to dreamless slumber, rejoicing when I find it. Have you ever experienced a “flow state”? For brief moments, I have, perhaps minutes at a time. Doing work email used to put me in that state of unconscious flow. Yes, that is sad, but laughing doesn’t make us bad people. Watching a movie I’ve seen a hundred times can do it. Writing does it for me too.
Why do we pursue and remember these experiences so fondly? We want to return as often as we can. How many times have you heard someone describe “being in the zone” and say how much they hated it? Right — never. Zhuangzi had thoughts on consciousness, and he offers us a story from the point of view of both the one who remembers and the one who listens. See if you notice a yearning in your heart to find what this butcher seems to enjoy every day.
“Cook Ting was butchering an ox for Lord Wen Hui. Every movement of his hand, every shrug of his shoulders, every step of his feet, every thrust of his knee, were all in perfect accord. ‘Ah, how excellent!’ said Lord Wen Hui. ‘How has your skill become so superb?’ Cook Ting put down his knife and said, ‘What your servant loves best is the Tao. When I started to cut up oxen, what I saw was just an ox. After three years, I had learned not to see the ox as a whole. Now I practice with my mind, not with my eyes. I see the natural lines and my knife slides through the great hollows, follows the great cavities, using that which is already there. A good cook changes his knife annually, because he slices. An ordinary cook has to change his knife every month, because he hacks. This knife of mine has been used for nineteen years and has cut thousands of oxen. The blade is as sharp as if it had just been sharpened. Between the joints there are spaces, and the blade has no real thickness. If you put what has no thickness into spaces such as these, there is plenty of room. However, when I come to a difficult part, and see the difficulty, I take care and pay due regard. I look carefully and I move with caution. Then, very gently, I move the knife, and the flesh falls apart. I stand with the knife in my hand, and with an air of satisfaction, I wipe the knife and put it away.’
‘Splendid!’ said Lord WenHui. ‘I have heard Cook Ting and learned how to live life fully.’”
Losing ourselves in a task we’ve become so practiced at, so perfect at performing that there is no need to think is so pleasurable to anticipate, to experience, and then reminiscence about. We often think about these moments in times of stress, and it is no coincidence that we love to talk about and listen to others tell their stories. Just the act of watching another slice up their one-thousand-and-first ox triggers delight and confidence that we now know what life is all about.
It’s the quieting of the mind that I’m after. I’m so tired of hacking at life. That chattering narration running constantly in the background, dredging up memories, playing scenarios, wishful alternatives, and always, always imagining how things could have gone better. When I was dialled in, when I believed in my greatness, a quiescent mind and then wakening to that air of satisfaction, there really was nothing better.
Or so I thought. Turns out, I was wrong about a great many things, including the value of what I was doing, and the cost being extracted from my wellbeing. Who my friends were, the dependability of my relationships, and even the value of my character. I was Cook Ting slicing joints for a false lord. I was evading a voice that should have had my attention. In its way, that inner voice was telling me this wasn’t right. Not them; lords will have their own reckonings. No, it was me. I was wrong. The inner voice plays a part, there to be listened to and not shunted aside when we don’t like what it has to say. Turn a deaf ear to your voice long enough, as I have, and it returns all the more insistent. Listening can guide our efforts to professions and contributions that, when we awake from our trance, we can stand, our knife and an air of satisfaction in hand, and be proud.
[Author’s Note: Thank you for taking the time to visit. All pictures were taken by the author or family member, unless otherwise noted.]
Thank you for sharing . This is Zhuangzi’s another famous story. Zhuangzi want use Cook Ding story tell us let the nature take the course in our lifetime. But this is not easy to get we have to “try hard “ then figure out our own way to listen our inner voice find our inner peace. I guess that why we have to continue learning and practice .
Listening to that inner voice changes life fast. It’s alignment.
It would be like taking a map someone handed you versus using the short cut a friend told you about.
When you talked about the flow state, it made me think of all the times writing myself connected me to it or creation in general.
Maybe creating is the only hack that will stand the test of time. 🌹✨