Basic principles of Zen Buddhism. What is Zen Buddhism: definition, main ideas, essence, rules, principles, philosophy, meditation, features

This article describes the basic rules, principles and philosophy of Zen Buddhism.

There are many branches of different religions. Each of them has its own schools and founders, teachers and traditions. One such teaching is Zen. What is its essence and what are its characteristic features? Find the answer to this and other questions in the article.

Zen teaching: direction of which religious philosophy?

Zen teaching: a branch of religious philosophy called Buddhism

Zen is an imprecise name for a religion that has undergone changes today, and it is not really a religion. At first this philosophy was called Zen. Translated from Japanese, Zen means: 禅; Skt. ध्यान dhyana, kit. 禪 chan. This word is translated as "think correctly", "to focus internally on something".

The Zen teaching is a branch of religious philosophy from the Buddha. It follows the Mahayana heritage, which originated in the Middle Kingdom and after that became known throughout the Far East (Vietnam, Korea, Japan). But followers believe that Zen is the philosophy of Japanese Buddhism, which was brought to this country from China in the twelfth century.

What is Zen Buddhism: definition, main ideas, essence, rules, principles, philosophy

After the 12th century, the traditions of Japanese and Chinese Zen found their place in life separately from each other, but until today they have maintained unity and acquired their own characteristics. Japanese Zen is taught in several schools - Rinzai (Chinese: Linji), Soto (Chinese: Caodong) and Obaku (Chinese: Huangbo).

• The word Zen has its roots in the Sanskrit-Pali “dhyana/jhana” era.
• The Chinese used to pronounce "Zen" as "Chan".
• The Japanese pronounced “Zen” correctly, so the name and sound of this word have survived to this day.
• Now Zen is a popular philosophy and practice of Buddhist orientation.
• This philosophy is taught in Zen schools. There is also another official name for this religion - “Buddha’s Heart” or “Buddha’s Mind”. Both options are considered correct.

The main ideas and essence of Zen teaching are as follows:

• Zen is impossible to learn. Teachers only suggest ways through which the follower can achieve enlightenment.
• It is worth noting that the masters of this religion do not use “to achieve enlightenment” in their vocabulary.. The correct way would be: “to gain insight and see your own “I””, to change yourself for the better.
• It is impossible to indicate one path for everyone, since each person is individual- with your own ideas about life positions, experiences and living conditions. A person must find his way in, without replacing consciousness by specially performing practical exercises or following ideas.
• Human language, images and words are meaningless. With their help it is impossible to achieve insight. This state will become accessible thanks to traditional Zen methodological instructions and even external stimuli - a sharp scream, a strong blow, and so on.

The principles of Zen Buddhism are based on four truths:

1. Life is suffering. When a person understands this, he will take everything for granted. People are imperfect and the world is not perfect. If you want to achieve Zen, then you have to accept it. Buddha recognized this and accepted it. He realized that a person has to go through a lot during life: suffering, illness, deprivation, unpleasant situations, grief, pain.

The following 3 truths lie in desires:

1. Desire for affection. The Buddha argued that the main cause of psycho-emotional disorder is attachment to one's desires. If we can’t get something, then life is not nice to us. But you shouldn’t get angry and irritated because of this, you need to accept it.
2. The end of suffering. If you get rid of attachment to desires and free yourself from torment, then the mind will be cleared of worries and worries. This state of mind is called nirvana in Sanskrit.
3. Walking the path to the end of suffering. Nirvana is easy to achieve if you lead a measured life. Follow the Eightfold Path, which represents self-improvement in your desires.

A teacher must see his own nature in order to teach this to his students. In addition, he must see the real state of the student. Only in this way will the master be able to give the right advice and instructions for the push of awakening.

Philosophy of Zen Buddhism consists of the doctrine of three poisons. It is because of them that all the troubles, torment and delusions appear in a person’s life. Such evils include the following:

• Man does not understand his nature- the mind is clouded, there is a constant restless internal state, and even dullness appears.
• There is an aversion to specific situations, things- presentation of something as an independent evil, rigid views on life.
• Excessive affection- to something pleasant, clinging to unnecessary things in this life.

Therefore, the rules of Zen Buddhism are:

• Calm your mind. Be calmer, don’t get nervous over trifles, so that life can flow peacefully and smoothly.
• Free yourself from rigid views. Understand that man creates evil around himself with his own hands. If we look at life differently, then everything around us will change.
• Free yourself from attachment. Understand that little is good, otherwise life will lose its taste and bright colors. There should not be an unquenchable thirst for pleasant things. Everything good in moderation.

Students are given different advice, but such that they are understandable to a specific person. For example:

• Practice meditation to calm and calm your mind. At the same time, try and follow all the teacher’s advice.
• Don't try to achieve peace and enlightenment, but let go of everything that happens around you.

Followers of Zen practice do a lot of sitting meditation and perform simple work. This could be growing some crops in the mountains or regular cleaning. The main goal is to calm your mind and unify your thoughts. Then the self-churning stops, the clouding of the mind disappears (Zen masters believe that modern people everyone's mind is clouded) and the restless state stabilizes. After enlightenment, it is easier to see your natural essence.

Japanese and Chinese Zen: are they the same thing?

Japanese or Chinese Zen

Japanese and Chinese Zen are one and the same, but with their own distinctive features.

Chan Buddhism is what the Chinese call the Zen religion.. Many followers at the beginning of their path cannot understand Chan Buddhism. It seems that this is something unattainable, irrational and even mystical. But Zen insight is endowed with universal characteristics.

Zen's influence on Japanese cultural heritage makes us recognize this school as important and relevant in the study of the ideas of Zen Buddhism. It helps to reveal the ways of development of philosophy and thought.

Psychological aspects, psychotherapy of Zen Buddhism: practice

Psychotherapy of Zen Buddhism

To achieve satori, a person should not just sit under a Bo tree and wait for indulgence and enlightenment. A special relationship is built with the master and a specific system of procedures is carried out. Therefore, the psychological aspects and psychotherapy of Zen Buddhism are important to free the individual for spiritual development.

• Many psychologists use the principles of Zen Buddhism in their practice.
• A psychologist who is inspired by Zen ideas and is familiar with them first-hand is especially good.
• People are complex by nature. Someone has obsessive ideas of taking revenge on another person, another strives to get to the future faster or, conversely, is worried about what might happen, and the third is absorbed in his past.
• A person himself may repeat actions that cause him trouble, but in the subconscious and in words, he wants to break out of this circle.

Zen psychology shows that all these attachments and fixations interfere with living and experiencing the present. The real and correct Zen path will lead to enlightenment and a person’s correct awareness of existence.

Zen Buddhism as a philosophy and art of life: examples

Zen Buddhism - philosophy and art of life

The main goal of Zen Buddhism is to achieve enlightenment or satori. For Europeans, such a philosophy and art of life as Zen is something unattainable. But there is nothing supernatural in this teaching. These are ordinary skills that are honed to perfection by Zen masters.

Here are examples of such art of living:

A mentor talks to his student:

-Are you affirmed in the truth?
- Yes, master.
- What are you doing to educate yourself?
- I eat when I'm hungry and go to bed when I'm tired.
- But every person does this. It turns out that you don’t educate yourself, but live the same way as other people?
- No.
- Why?
- Because when eating food they are not busy eating, but are distracted by conversations and other foreign objects; when they rest, they do not fall asleep at all, but dream a lot and even experience emotions in their sleep. Therefore they are not like me.

Explaining this example-parable, we can say that ordinary people experience constant fear and mixed feelings of self-doubt, and also live in an illusionary world, not the real one. People think they are tasting and feeling something rather than actually experiencing all the emotions.

Another example of Zen philosophy is revealed in another parable:

The master of this teaching tells about himself: “When I had not yet learned Zen, rivers were rivers for me, and mountains were mountains. With the first knowledge of Zen, rivers ceased to be rivers and mountains ceased to be mountains. When I fully comprehended the teaching and became a teacher myself, the rivers became rivers again, and the mountains became mountains.”

This is evidence that after enlightenment, what is here and now begins to be perceived differently. We take shadows for plausible things, and being in the dark at this time, it is impossible to know the light. For Zen, it is important that a person knows himself from the inside, and not with his mind. Zen must penetrate into the depths of the human soul and his being.

What does it mean to know Zen, the state of Zen, the inner Zen?

Among people you can hear: "I learned Zen". What does it mean to know Zen, the state of Zen, the inner Zen? It means: "a state of constant meditation" And "absolute unruffled mind". But if a person talks about this and even claims that he knows what Zen is, then he lives deceived. Learning the essence of Zen is given only to selected people, and the teachings of this philosophy are structured in such a way that a person will not talk about himself in such a way.

The Zen state is peace from within, a bright mind and soul. Zen within a person is equanimity. A person who has learned Zen cannot be thrown out of balance. In addition, he can independently help his opponent find inner peace.

How to achieve a Zen state?

Entering a state of Zen is not a game at all. The follower focuses on his everyday position in life. To achieve a state of zen, everything around you must be in alignment.

• Harmony in everything is the most important thing.
• You are confident and know that you can achieve it.
• All the problems around disappear, a special energy fills the world around us. Something ideal appears that helps solve problems.
• Your skills match the tasks- everything works out harmoniously. For people who are familiar with sports, this moment is called “being in the zone.” In science, this process is called “flow.”
• You should feel like you're in a dream. In the “flow” time and consciousness are lost. You seem to dissolve in everything around you. It is easier for a child to enter a state of Zen, but for adults it is more difficult. They understand the definition of time. But it is more difficult for a small person with his unstable psyche to break back into transience, so for a child the Zen state can be dangerous.

When you get into a Zen state, you will realize that you don't need to plan anything. It is the habit of outlining different plans that “stifles” creativity in each of us. There is nothing more awakening and tonic than being in the “flow”, a specially created “zone” or “white moment” by your mind.

What is Zen meditation?

Zen meditation is a meditative relaxation technique from the Buddha. It is the most popular technique in the world - it is the heart of Buddhist teachings. The benefits of Zen meditation include the following:

• Teaching good concentration
• Possibility of self-knowledge
• Getting peace and joy
• Improved health
• Emergence of willpower
• Increasing internal energy

Warning: If you do everything right, an emotional storm will occur inside you. This condition can occur after several days or weeks of practice. Your suppressed emotions will rise up into consciousness. At this moment, it is important not to fight them, but to give them the opportunity to splash out. After this, peace, clarity of mind and joy will come.

Techniques for performing Zen meditation:

There are two main techniques of Zen meditation: intermediate and advanced:

Two Basic Zen Meditation Techniques

Advice: Don't try to realize the secret of Zen artificially. Don't get caught up in inhaling and exhaling. The most important thing will happen between these processes: the secrets of the Universe will be revealed, you will know yourself, and so on. Just meditate properly and everything will happen naturally.

What is the difference between Zen Buddhism and Buddhism: differences, differences, features

Regarding the understanding of Zen Buddhism, it is worth noting that if you try to understand, it will not be Zen Buddhism. A person must comprehend reality as it is. If we talk about the differences between Zen Buddhism and Buddhism, then there is no difference, since such practice is Buddhism. All Buddhist practices are divided into:

• Samathi- calming the mind and body, understanding peace and tranquility.
• Vipassana- allows you to observe the emergence of mental phenomena. A person discovers something new for himself in feelings, thoughts, emotions.

All Buddhist practices help the mind to get rid of suffering, free itself from wrong views, and cultivate a correct worldview. Zen simply helps to acquire important elements of correct thinking and lifestyle, eliminating the destruction of the mind. There is no need to follow the rules, it is important to understand the world order. In Buddhist practice there are no rules, assumptions, or hypotheses. If a person learns to comprehend Zen, then he will get rid of delusions and will live in peace and tranquility.

Symbols of Zen Buddhism and their meaning: photo

Buddhism, like Zen Buddhism, has many different symbols. But in Zen the most important and significant is considered Enso- circle of enlightenment and freedom. This symbol of Zen Buddhism is made in the form of tattoos, painted on the walls of houses, especially in China and Japan, and interiors are decorated with its image.

Enso means enlightenment, strength, grace, emptiness, universe. The circle itself is continuous karmic rebirth, and the internal space is a sign of liberation from life’s hardships.

Zen Buddhism Symbol

This symbol can be depicted with a lotus flower inside, as evidence that a person has become whiter, more majestic and inseparable from nature - peaceful and calm.

Zen Buddhism symbols with lotus

Actually in a circle Enso You can depict symbols or even Buddha. It will still have the correct meaning of Zen - enlightenment, purification and peace.

Zen Buddhism Koans: Examples

Zen Buddhist koans are short narratives with questions and dialogues. They may not have logic, but they will be understandable to a person who wants to know Zen. The purpose of the koan is to create a psychological impulse for the student to understand and achieve enlightenment. This is a kind of parable, but the koan does not need to be translated or understood, it serves to understand the true reality.

Here are examples of koans:

Zen Buddhism Koans: Examples

Zen Buddhism Koan: An Example

Zen Buddhism Koan

Don't try to understand Zen Buddhism. It must be inside you, it is your true essence. Practice self-discipline, experience the joy of existence, believe, accept, and then you will be able to comprehend Zen and accept it into yourself.

Video: Conversation with Zen Master Jinen about truth and meditation

Introduction

The pursuit of human well-being through the study of his nature - this common feature inherent in both Zen Buddhism and psychoanalysis - is most often mentioned when comparing these systems, reflecting the characteristics of Western and Eastern mentality. Zen Buddhism combines Indian irrationality with Chinese concreteness and realism. Psychoanalysis, based on Western humanism and rationalism, on the one hand, and the romantic search for mysterious forces beyond rational comprehension, characteristic of the 19th century, on the other, is a phenomenon exclusively of the Western world. We can say that this scientific and therapeutic method of studying man is the fruit of Greek wisdom and Jewish ethics.

The study of human nature in theory and human reincarnation in practice is perhaps one of the few features that unites psychoanalysis and Zen Buddhism. There are obviously more differences. First, psychoanalysis is a scientific method that has nothing to do with religion. Zen, from the perspective of Western culture, with its theory and method of “enlightening” a person, looks like a religious, or mystical, teaching. Psychoanalysis is a therapy for mental illness, and Zen is the path to salvation of the soul. So, comparing psychoanalysis and Zen Buddhism, don’t we come to the conclusion that fundamentally they have nothing in common, but, on the contrary, are fundamentally different from each other?

Despite this, Zen Buddhism is attracting increasing interest from psychoanalysts. What is the reason for this interest and what is its meaning? The purpose of this article is to answer these questions. Of course, a fundamental description of Zen - Buddhist thinking - will not be presented here - my knowledge and experience are not enough for this. At the same time, in this article I do not set out to give a complete picture of psychoanalysis. However, in the first part of my work I will dwell in more detail on those aspects of psychoanalysis that I called “humanistic psychoanalysis” and which are one of the continuations of Freudian psychoanalysis. In this way I will try to explain why the encounter with Zen Buddhism has become so important both for me and, in my opinion, for everyone who deals with psychoanalysis.

Spiritual crisis and the meaning of psychoanalysis

When studying the issue that interests us, first of all it is necessary to pay attention to the spiritual crisis of modern Western man and psychoanalysis as one of the tools for overcoming this crisis. Most people belonging to Western culture experience the influence of the crisis to one degree or another, without fully realizing it themselves. Nevertheless, experts are quite unanimous both in recognizing the existence of a real crisis and in defining its essence. This phenomenon is defined by the concepts of “illness” (“malaise”), “boredom” (“ennui”), “disease of the century” (maladie du siucle). We are talking about apathy, human automaticity, self-alienation, loss of connection with other individuals and nature. Rationalism was put at the forefront by man until it acquired highly irrational features. The era of Descartes ushered in a clear separation of thinking and feeling: thinking is rational, while feeling itself is irrational. The embodiment of intellect alone, the human personality is called upon to exercise control over nature. The meaning of existence becomes the production of an ever-increasing number of material assets. At the same time, the person himself turns into a thing, and possession becomes the meaning of life. “Having” is now more important than “being.” While human improvement was the meaning of existence in Greek and Jewish ideology, the foundations of which are characteristic of Western civilization, modern man considers the goal of his life to be the improvement of the technology for producing things.

Aware of his inability to resolve the contradiction between thinking and feeling, Western man becomes anxious, depressed and in despair. If in words he calls wealth, originality and enterprise as his life values, then in reality he has no real goal in life. When asked about the purpose of existence and the meaning of the difficulties he experiences in life, a Western person will not be able to give an intelligible answer. Among the most likely answers is life for the sake of family, for the sake of receiving pleasure, for the sake of making money... In reality, no one sees the real meaning of their life. Danger and loneliness are what a person seeks to avoid a priori.

Nowadays, a person's belonging to a church is becoming more and more significant in some respects, religious books are becoming bestsellers, and more and more people are turning to God. However, this apparent religiosity is in fact not due to spiritual, but purely materialistic and non-religious aspects. This phenomenon can be seen as a human ideological reaction to the characteristic 19th century tendency expressed by Nietzsche: “God is dead,” caused by conformity and the desire for security. There is no need to talk about true religiosity here.

The rejection of theistic postulates that occurred in the 19th century was largely progressive in nature. The concept of objectivity has become defining:

The earth is no longer the center of the universe, and man is no longer the “crown of creation.” Freud, exploring the hidden motives of human behavior through the prism of new life realities, came to the conclusion that the all-consuming faith in God was based on human helplessness and insecurity. At the same time, the person relied on the support of his father and mother, embodied by him in the divine image. According to Freud, a person can only save himself, while the instructions of great teachers and the participation of loved ones can only support him, help him accept the challenge of fate in order to gain strength to fight life’s adversities.

A person no longer sees God in the image of a father and thereby loses parental support in his person. At the same time, the truths of the postulates of all great religions cease to exist for him. We are talking about a person overcoming egoistic limitations, striving for love, objectivity, humility and respect for life - and this in itself can be considered as a goal and as a result of a person realizing the potential inherent in him, which is the goal of both the great Western and the great Eastern religions. Let us note that in the East there was no concept of a transcendental father - the Savior, characteristic of monotheistic religions. Rationality and realism were inherent in Taoism and Buddhism to a greater extent than in the religions of the West. In the East, a person voluntarily, without coercion, joins the “awakened”, for every person is potentially capable of awakening and enlightenment. That is why Eastern religious thinking, embodied in Taoism, Buddhism and Zen - Buddhism as their synthesis, is of such great importance for Western culture today. Thanks to Zen Buddhism, a person is able to find an answer to the question of the meaning of his existence, and this answer is not fundamentally in conflict with both traditional Judeo-Christian ideas, on the one hand, and with such values ​​of modern man as rationality, realism and independence. Thus, paradoxically, Eastern religious ideas turn out to be, in comparison with Western ones, closer in spirit to Western rational thinking.

Values ​​and objectives of Freud's psychoanalytic concept

Psychoanalysis represents a typical manifestation of the spiritual crisis of Western man and at the same time shows the possibility of a way out of this crisis. Modern directions of psychoanalysis - “humanistic” and “existential” - serve as a striking example of this. However, before considering my “humanistic” concept, I would like to emphasize that the system developed by Freud himself is not limited, despite widespread belief, to the concepts of “illness” and “cure”. It represents primarily the concept of saving a person, rather than treating mentally ill people. With a superficial approach, one gets the feeling that Freud simply invented a new method of treating mental illness and that this was precisely the main subject of his research, eventually becoming the scientist’s life’s work. However, upon closer examination, it turns out that medical approaches to the treatment of neuroses conceal an entirely different idea, one that Freud himself rarely formulated explicitly and may not have always been aware of. What kind of idea is this? What is Freud's concept of the "psychoanalytic movement" and what was the starting point of this movement?

We can say that Freud's words: “Where the It was, the I must become,” give us the clearest answer to this question. Freud set out to subordinate irrational and unconscious passions to reason. According to his thoughts, a person, in accordance with his capabilities, must free himself from the yoke of the unconscious. In order to subjugate the raging internal unconscious forces to his will and subsequently exercise control over them, he must first of all realize the very fact of their existence. Freud's main postulate, which he always followed, was optimal knowledge of truth, and therefore knowledge of reality. This idea was traditionally characteristic of rationalism, Enlightenment philosophy and Puritan ethics. However, Freud became the first (or, at least, he believed so) who not only proclaimed the idea of ​​self-control as a goal, as Western religion and philosophy did, but, based on the study of the unconscious on a scientific basis, was able to propose a way to realize this goal.

With his teaching, Freud marked the flowering of rationalism in the West. Nevertheless, with his genius he managed not only to overcome the false and superficial optimism of rationalism, but also to combine the latter with the romantic concept that opposed it in the 19th century. Freud's deep personal interest in studying the irrational and sensual aspects of the human personality allowed him to carry out this synthesis.

Freud was largely interested in the philosophical and ethical aspects of the problem of personality. In his Lectures on Introduction to Psychoanalysis, Freud refers to the profound changes in personality that various mystical practices try to bring about, and goes on to say: “We still recognize that the therapeutic efforts of psychoanalysis have chosen a similar point of application. After all, their goal is to strengthen the “I”, make it more independent of the “super-ego”, expand the field of perception and rebuild its organization so that it can master new parts of the Id. Where It was, I must become. This is about the same cultural work as the drainage of the Zuider Zee. According to Freud, “the liberation of a person from neurotic symptoms, inhibitions and character abnormalities” is the main goal of psychoanalytic therapy. The role of the analyst, according to Freud, is not limited to the fact that the doctor “treats” his patient: “The analyst who strives in a given analytic situation to be a model for his patient and play the role of his mentor must have a certain superiority over the latter.” Freud further writes: “We must remember that the relationship between analyst and patient must be based on the love of truth, which means the recognition of reality. At the same time, any falsehood and deception become impossible.”

Freud's concept of psychoanalysis has other characteristic features that do not fit into the framework of the concepts of illness and treatment. For people who have an understanding of Eastern thinking, and primarily of Zen Buddhism, it will become obvious that the features that I will talk about resonate with them in a certain way. Firstly, Freud's principle, according to which knowledge transforms a person, deserves mention. Theory and practice are inseparable: by knowing oneself, a person is transformed every time. There is no need to say to what extent such a thought is alien to the principles of scientific psychology both in Freud's time and in our days. According to these generally accepted concepts, knowledge always lies in the realm of theory and is not capable of transforming the knower.

There is one more feature that brings Freud’s approach closer to Eastern thought, and primarily to Zen Buddhism. Freud never placed conscious thinking at the forefront, critically assessing the capabilities of modern man. He considered the main ones in the mental process occurring in a person to be the strongest sources of hitherto unknown unconscious and irrational forces, in comparison with which conscious thinking is practically insignificant and incomparable in importance. By developing the method of free association, Freud attempted to break through the veil of conscious thought and reveal the true nature of man. The principle of free association was intended to become an alternative to logical, conscious and formal thinking, to open new sources in a person, originating in the unconscious. Despite all the critical attacks to which Freud's concept of the unconscious has been subjected, it is absolutely indisputable that Freud, with his principle of free association as an alternative to logical thinking, significantly changed the conventional rationalist way of thinking in the West, moving closer in his research to Eastern thought, where similar ideas were developed in to a much greater extent.

Finally, let us note one more aspect that distinguishes Freud's method: when conducting his analysis, Freud could work with a person for a year, two, three, four, five, or even more years, which caused harsh criticism from his opponents. It is not worth discussing here whether the analysis needed more efficiency. I just want to point out that Freud had the courage to recognize the possibility of working with one patient for several years, helping him understand himself. From the standpoint of the usefulness and social significance of the changes occurring in a person, we can say that such an approach did not make much sense and that such a lengthy analysis did not justify the time investment. Freud's method makes sense only if modern categories of value are abandoned, traditional ideas about the relationship between goals and means spent, and recognition of the uniqueness of human life, with which no thing can be compared in its significance. Guided by the idea that liberation, happiness, enlightenment of a person (no matter what we call it) is a primary task, we will come to the conclusion that no amount of time and money will be comparable to its solution. Freud's foresight, the radical nature of his methodology, expressed primarily in the duration of contact with one person, revealed an approach that is fundamentally opposed to the limited thinking of the Western world.

Despite the above facts, it cannot be argued that Eastern thought in general, and Zen Buddhism in particular, served as a support for Freud in the development of his method. The features we are considering for the most part have an implicit rather than an explicit origin, that is, they are obviously unconscious rather than conscious. Freud himself was largely a product of Western civilization, mainly of Western thought in the 18th and 19th centuries. As a result, it is difficult to imagine that, even with deep knowledge of Zen Buddhism as one of the expressions of Eastern thought, he would rely on them in creating his system. Man, in Freud's view, was endowed with basically the same characteristic features as those of the economists and philosophers of the 19th century: a natural tendency to competition, alienation, a desire for contact with other individuals solely in order to satisfy their own economic needs and instincts. Freud viewed man as a machine controlled by libido and existing according to the law of minimizing libidinal stimulation. Freud's man is selfish by nature; He is connected with the people around him only by a mutual desire to satisfy needs dictated by instincts. Freud defines pleasure not as a feeling of happiness, but as a release of tension. With all this, a person, in his view, experiences a conflict between reason and feelings; he is not integral by nature, but is the embodiment of intelligence in the spirit of the philosophers of the Enlightenment. Love for one's neighbor is contrary to reality; mystical experience marks a return to primary narcissism. Taking into account these unconditional differences from the principles of Zen Buddhism, I nevertheless try to demonstrate that Freud's system has features that contributed to the development of psychoanalysis as a whole and, as a result, bring it closer to Zen Buddhism. These features do not fit into the framework of conventional ideas about illness and treatment and the traditional interpretation of consciousness from the position of rationalism.

But before we begin to compare this “humanistic” psychoanalysis and Zen Buddhism, I want to draw attention to one fact that is of utmost importance for understanding the evolution of psychoanalysis. These days there have been significant changes in the type of patients who come to see a psychoanalyst and the problems they share with him.

People who consulted a psychiatrist at the beginning of the century complained mainly of certain symptoms, such as arm paralysis, excessive hand washing syndrome, or obsessive thoughts. In a word, they were sick in the traditional sense of the word, since there was a specific circumstance that prevented their normal functioning. Since the obvious cause of their suffering was specific symptoms, the process of treating such patients was precisely to rid them of the latter. These people wanted to suffer and be unhappy no more than an ordinary person in society.

Nowadays, such patients still come to see a psychoanalyst. For them, psychoanalysis still serves as a therapy that helps them get rid of certain symptoms and returns them the opportunity to be full-fledged members of society. At one time, the psychoanalyst had to deal with just such patients in most cases, but today they constitute a minority. At the same time, it is difficult to say that their absolute number has decreased, while at the same time a huge number of “patients” of a new type have appeared, who in the generally accepted sense cannot be called sick, but who have become victims of the “maladie du siucle” (disease of the century - French) , depression and apathy - everything that was discussed at the beginning of the article. When visiting a psychoanalyst, these patients cannot formulate and clearly define the true cause of their suffering, talking about depression, insomnia, an unhappy marriage, dissatisfaction with their work and many other things. As a rule, they are convinced that the root of their illness lies in some specific symptom and that getting rid of this symptom would bring them recovery. These people fail to realize that their condition is not actually caused by depression, insomnia, or problems at work. All these complaints are in fact only an outer shell that allows a person in the modern world to declare a problem that has much deeper roots than those that this or that disease could have. The misfortune of modern man lies in his alienation from himself and from his own kind, from nature. A person realizes that his life is wasted and that he will die without truly living life. He lives in abundance, but lacks the joy of life.

How can psychoanalysis help patients with “maladie du siucle”? In this case, we are not (and cannot be) talking about “treatment” that relieves a person of symptoms and returns him to normal functioning. The cure for a person suffering from alienation does not consist in ridding him of the symptoms of the disease, but in mental healing and finding well-being.

Unfortunately, speaking about mental healing, we will find it difficult to define it specifically. Operating with the categories of Freud's system, we would have to consider well-being through the prism of libido theory, i.e., define well-being as the possibility of normal sexual functions and recognition of the hidden Oedipus complex. However, in my opinion, such an interpretation only answers the question of human well-being to a small extent. Trying to define the concept of human mental healing, we will inevitably cross the boundaries of the Freudian system. At the same time, we will be forced to delve into an a priori incapable of exhaustive consideration of the very basis of “humanistic” psychoanalysis, namely: the concept of human existence. Only in this way will the comparison of psychoanalysis and Zen Buddhism receive a real basis.

Human well-being through the prism of his mental evolution

Well-being can be defined as the existence of a person in accordance with his nature. Starting from this general formulation, we ask the question: what in modern conditions existence is human existence and how are these conditions themselves characterized?

Human existence itself poses questions. The birth of a person and his departure from this world do not occur according to his will. An animal, unlike a person, instinctively adapts to the surrounding world and completely merges with nature. For a person deprived of this opportunity, life cannot be lived on its own. He must live it. Man belongs to nature, and at the same time, realizing himself as an individual, he goes beyond its limits. This awareness gives rise to a feeling of absolute loneliness, alienation and helplessness. At every moment of his existence, with his whole being, mind and body, in thoughts and dreams, while sleeping and eating, crying and laughing, he is forced to answer the question asked by life. What kind of question is this? It can be formulated as follows: how to get rid of suffering, alienation, overcome remorse that is a consequence of this alienation, and how to find harmony in relationships with yourself, with your own kind and with nature? A person answers this question in one way or another. Even being mad, hiding in an imaginary reality from alienation, he thereby gives an answer to it.

If this question is always the same, then there may be several answers to it, in any case, there are two main ones. One of them solves the problem of alienation and finding harmony by returning to the integrity inherent in a person in the “pre-conscious” period of his life. The second answer provides for the “full birth” of a person. In this case, the individual must rise above his own egocentrism by acquiring the ability to love, achieving a new harmony with the world around him through deepening self-awareness and the evolution of the mind.

When we talk about birth, we usually mean the physiological process that occurs nine months after conception. However, the existence of a child during the first week after birth is in many ways reminiscent not of the life of an adult, but of being in the mother’s womb. Nevertheless, the uniqueness of the act of birth when the umbilical cord is cut is beyond doubt. At the same time, the child begins to breathe independently, and from now on any activity will free him more and more from his initial dependence.

By nature, birth is a process, not a one-time event. The meaning of life lies in “full birth.” However, the human tragedy lies precisely in the fact that most of us die without ever being truly “born”. Life implies birth every minute, while death is the cessation of this birth. Human body, if we consider it from the point of view of the cellular system, is in the process of continuous birth. Psychologically, a person, as a rule, stops at a certain stage in his birth. There are people who can be called “stillborn”. They live only on a physiological level, but mentally, being insane or practically insane, they want to return to the situation of intrauterine life in darkness, in death. There are many who continue to live, but, being unable to completely sever the umbilical cord, throughout their entire lives they remain inseparably attached to mother and father, family, race, state, social status, money, gods, etc. These people will never be able to “be truly born,” because they are unable to get rid of their addiction.

The regressive attempts made to achieve the blissful state of prebirth can be of different properties; they are united only by an unsuccessful final result, which brings nothing to a person except torment. If a person has once lost his divine, pre-human fusion with nature, he will never find a way back - two angels with fiery swords in their hands will block his path. He will be able to return only by dying or losing his mind, because it is impossible to do this while alive or in his right mind.

The search for regressive unity can be pursued in several pathological and irrational ways. A person may be haunted by the thought of returning to the mother’s womb or to the earth, that is, the idea of ​​death.

The result of these desires will be suicide or madness if a person cannot cope with them. To a lesser extent destructive and irrational can be considered the desire to remain dependent on maternal care or the authority of the father throughout one’s life.

These aspirations characterize two different types of people. The first includes a person who remains forever attached to the mother's breast. In life, he appears as a helpless sucker, for whom the highest joy lies in being loved, protected, cared for, admired. The distance from his mother causes him extreme discomfort. The second type includes people who remain under the authority of their father throughout their lives. They themselves can show enough initiative, but only if there is a person above them who serves as an indisputable authority for them and regulates all their life activities. On a different plane lies the destructive desire for all-destruction as a means of overcoming alienation. A person gripped by such an idea can look at the world around him as food and strive to absorb everything that surrounds him, or he wants to destroy everything around him, sparing only himself. Another attempt to overcome the crisis of existence is the construction of an indestructible bastion around one’s own “I”, likened to something inanimate; In the possession of material values, power, prestige of a position in society, and his intellect, such a person finds support in life.

Deprived of unconscious unity with nature, a person little by little overcomes his narcissism. A newly born child does not know about the world around him; for him, reality is only himself and the mother’s breast, with which he continues to form a single whole. For him there is still no division into subject and object. After some time, the child begins to differentiate according to the “subject - object” scheme, but only at the level of distinction “I - not me.” As for the emotional level, even if a person has a chance to overcome the narcissistic idea of ​​his own omniscience and omnipotence, this can only become possible after he reaches full maturity.

For neurotics, such a narcissistic idea is characteristic to the same extent as for children, but unlike them, it, as a rule, exists on a conscious level. For a child who lives solely by his desires, reality is what he wants to see, but not what actually exists. If his desire is not fulfilled, the child becomes furious, striving, through his father and mother, to change the world around him so that his desire is realized. Reaching maturity, a normally developing child comes to an awareness of reality and accepts its rules of the game, abandoning this narcissistic message. The neurotic, on the other hand, still proceeds from his ideas based on narcissism, still being confident that the world should obey only his desires. When faced with the opposite, he either unsuccessfully tries to force reality to obey his will, or experiences a feeling of his own helplessness. If for a mature person freedom means awareness of reality, acceptance of its immutable laws and life in accordance with them, comprehension and understanding of the surrounding world, awareness of one’s own place in it through reason and feelings, then for a neurotic freedom, whether he realizes it or not, is only the idea of ​​one's own narcissistic omnipotence.

Such differences imply different types thinking and, as a consequence, different models of existence as an answer that a person gives to the questions posed by life. All existing religions give the same answers. Over the course of a long evolution, beginning with cannibalism, man has chosen from a mass of various answers to the existential question, without knowing it, one of the existing options. A Westerner, as a rule, believes that in his soul he is fully consistent with the principles of Christian or Jewish morality, or is an adherent of enlightened atheism. In fact, if it were possible to analyze a person with the help of some kind of “psychic x-ray”, it would become obvious that in our society there are very few true Christians, Judaists, Buddhists, adherents of Taoism, and a huge number of cannibalists, totemists and various idolaters. Every religion is essentially an orderly and detailed response of humanity to the question posed by life. At the same time, for a person, even the most primitive religion becomes a convenient and cozy refuge where one could communicate with like-minded people. If the regressive aspirations of an individual come into conflict with his consciousness or with the interests of society and his own secret “religion” cannot be shared with others, it turns into neurosis.

By knowing the personal response of a particular patient, or any person in general, to the existential question that life poses to him - in other words, his own cult, which he serves, we can understand it. It makes no sense to “treat” such a patient before we know his secret cult, his fundamental answer to life, for many so-called “psychological problems” are in fact echoes of this very “answer”.

Based on what has been said, we are faced with the need to define the concept of well-being.

Well-being should be understood as the achievement of full maturity by the human mind. We are talking here about maturity not only in terms of the ability to think critically, but also in such an awareness of reality in which, in the words of Heidegger, a person acquires the ability to “let things be” what they really are. A person can achieve well-being only to the extent that he is open to the world around him and is able to respond to it (“awakened” and “empty” in the Zen Buddhist understanding). Well-being is characterized by the emotional richness of a person’s life in his relationship to other individuals and nature, in his ability to overcome alienation and feel unity with the world around him, on the one hand, and awareness of his own separate and indivisible “I”, on the other. This well-being implies the full birth of a person, the realization of the potential inherent in him, that is, his awakening, getting rid of averageness, gaining the ability to experience the full range of feelings - from stormy joy to deep sadness. At the same time, a person must be able to create, react to the world around him, be responsible both to himself and to everything that surrounds him; to appear as an integral personality, truly existing in the world of animate and inanimate objects. Giving a true answer to the world, a person - a creator, at the same time, is able to really perceive this world. In a creative attitude towards the world, a person must consider it as a product of his own perception. As a result, this world ceases to be something alien and distant for him and becomes his own. In the end, well-being consists of pacifying your ego and revising your life priorities. A person must renounce acquisitiveness, the desire for personal integrity and aggrandizement. The meaning of life should not be the eternal thirst for possession, accumulation, profit and consumption, but the joy of being itself, the awareness of one’s own uniqueness in this world.

Having said this, I have made an attempt to correlate the development of human individuality with the history of religion. Due to the fact that this article is devoted to a comparison of psychoanalysis and Zen Buddhism, it seems necessary to me to consider the evolution of religion at least in some psychological aspects.

As I have already noted, existence itself poses a question to man. This question is generated by the contradiction inherent in man: belonging to nature, on the one hand, and being outside of it, conditioned by the awareness of one’s own existence, on the other. A person is “religious” if he approaches this fundamental question not formally, but strives to answer it with his whole life. Likewise, any system is a “religion” if it tries to give its answer to this question and forces people to do so. Accordingly, every culture and every person who does not seek an answer to an existential question is non-religious in its essence - the best example of which is the man of the 20th century. Preoccupied with thoughts of material benefits, prestige, power, career, modern man tries to avoid answering this question, trying to forget about the very fact of his existence, and therefore the fact of the existence of his “I”. A person who does not have his own answer is not capable of development, in his life and death becoming like one of the millions of things he has produced. It does not matter how deep his religious beliefs are, how often he thinks about God or attends church. Such a person, instead of believing in God, only thinks about him. However, religions can differ fundamentally from each other in their answers to the existential question, and it would be misleading to generalize them in this aspect. Existing religions in all their diversity give two fundamentally opposite answers to this fundamental question. We have already touched on these answers when talking about individuals.

The first answer is to restore unity with nature through likening to animals, abandoning reason, returning to a primitive way of life devoid of consciousness. Such an idea can take on very different incarnations. As one of the extremes, we can cite the example of the German underground “bear shirt” societies. A recruit initiated into this organization must become like a bear and “change his human appearance in a fit of aggression and unbridled rage, becoming like a raging beast.” (Drawing a parallel between the “Bear Shirts” and Hitler’s “Brown Shirts,” it is easy to understand that the idea of ​​returning man to the primitive unity with nature is not cultivated only at the level of primitive societies. If the majority of members of the National Socialist Party are politicians, junkers, generals, businessmen and officials - were simply irreligious people, cruel and thirsty for power, then those who led it, Hitler, Himmler and Goebbels, were, by and large, the same primitive “Bear Shirts,” whose religious idea consisted of the same “sacred” rage and passion for destruction. "The 20th century brought back to life the myth of “ritual murder,” which they attributed to the Jews. The subconscious desire for destruction found expression in ritual murders. Carrying out “ritual murders” of Jews, then foreigners, and finally the Germans themselves, down to members of their own families and themselves, they thus realized their destructive aspirations.)

The desire for primitive unity with nature can take on many other, not so archaic, religious incarnations. This idea can be traced in tribal religions, where there is identification with a totem animal, where there is a cult of a tree, lake, cave, etc.

This is also manifested in orgiastic cults that seek to suppress reason and moral principles in a person. Everything that brings a person closer to primitive intimacy with nature is sacred for such religions. The one who stands closest to the goal, such as a shaman, will be the “saint.” The opposite camp includes all religions, where the answer to the existential question is the idea of ​​the evolution of the human mind, cultivating in a person the ability to love, and as a result, finding harmony with nature and other individuals. And although in some relatively primitive societies such ideas were only partially traceable, there is no doubt that the period from about 2000 BC was a kind of Rubicon of humanity. e. and until the Nativity of Christ. This time period was marked by global changes in man, expressed in the emergence of such religions as Taoism and Buddhism in the Far East, the religious revolutions of Akhenaten in Egypt, the emergence of the Zoroastrian religion in Persia, the religion of Moses in Palestine, and Quetzalcoatl in Mexico.

These religions are brought together by the idea of ​​unity - no longer in a regressive sense, achieved by erasing individuality and returning to a heavenly harmony devoid of consciousness. Unity is now viewed on a new plane; a person can come to it only by overcoming alienation, isolation of himself from the world around him and thereby achieving true birth. The human mind must reach full development, after which the individual will have access to active, intuitive penetration into the real world, which is an indispensable condition for achieving such unity. The aspiration of these religions is directed not to the past, but to the future, and their goal is determined by the concepts of “Tao”, “nirvana”, “enlightenment”, “good”, God. Sociocultural differences between the countries of origin of these religions determined the choice of one symbol or another. The domineering image of a majestic monarch or tribal chief was a characteristic symbol for Western society. However, already in the Old Testament era, this image begins to undergo changes. The almighty arbiter of destinies is now bound with his subjects by agreements containing certain promises. For example, man's achievement of harmony with nature at the time determined by the messiah is the goal of prophecy; Christianity is characterized by the presentation of God in human form. In widespread Western religions, the anthropomorphic authoritarian components undergo virtually no changes. An example of their almost complete absence is the philosophy of Maimonides, or mysticism.

Judeo-Christian and Zen-Buddhist thinking are brought together by the idea of ​​the individual’s refusal of the egoistic desire for coercion, command and suppression of the internal and external world. Instead, a person must become open, receptive, awakened, able to respond to the challenges of the outside world. Zen calls this state “being empty,” and this term does not have a negative connotation, but, on the contrary, characterizes an individual who is open to the perception of the outside world. In the Christian religion, the same idea is expressed in the concepts of self-denial and submission to the will of divine providence. At first glance, the differences in Christian and Buddhist postulates are not so significant and the difference exists only at the level of formulation. In fact, Christian ideas, as a rule, are interpreted in such a way that a person completely entrusts his destiny to the great and omnipotent Father, who protects and cares for him, while all independence is lost. Naturally, in this case the person becomes meek and humble, but in no way open and able to react. Genuine renunciation of selfish aspirations as following the will of the Lord takes on real meaning if the concept of God is absent as such. Only by forgetting about God does a person, paradoxically, sincerely follow his will. To be “empty” in the terminology of Zen Buddhism really means pacifying one’s will, but at the same time excludes the possibility of returning to a slavish reliance on the support of the Father.

The essence of consciousness. Repression and overcoming repression

In the first part, I attempted to characterize humanistic psychoanalysis through a description of those human postulates and aspects of existence that serve as its starting point. The above comparison indicates that these postulates are characteristic of psychoanalysis to the same extent as other humanistic systems. Now, in order to understand how psychoanalysis seeks to solve the problem assigned to it, it becomes necessary to consider the specific method to which it resorts.

home distinguishing feature psychoanalysis lies, undoubtedly, in its desire to make the unconscious conscious, i.e., using Freud’s terminology, to translate “it” into “I.” This diagram, despite its apparent simplicity, needs explanation. First of all, we are faced with several questions at once: what is the unconscious? How does the unconscious become conscious, and if this is possible, then what is the use of it?

It should be clarified that the terms “conscious” and “unconscious” can have different meanings. In one case, they characterize the subjective state of a person; this meaning of the terms is called functional. Conscious is an individual who is aware of one or another mental process occurring in him, i.e., aware of his feelings, thoughts, ideas, etc. On the contrary, unconscious in this sense is a state in which a person is not aware in any mental processes occurring in it, including sensory ones. An individual who is aware of a particular feeling is conscious in relation to this feeling. If an individual is not aware of any feeling, he is an unconscious person in relation to it. It must be borne in mind that the term “unconscious” defines only the unawareness of any feelings, desires, fears, etc., and not at all their absence.

The terms “conscious” and “unconscious” have, in addition to the functional, another meaning. In this case, we are talking about the principle of a certain placement of the conscious and unconscious in the human psyche and their semantic content. In this interpretation, “conscious” and “unconscious” represent two different parts of an individual’s personality, each of which has its own special content. According to Freud, the unconscious is the repository of everything irrational. For his part, Jung views the unconscious as the deepest storehouse of wisdom, and assigns the conscious the role of the receptacle of human intellect. The unconscious absorbs everything that is unable to fit into the higher levels of the human psyche. This can be compared to the basement of a house, where things are sent that do not have a place on the residential floors. The “basement,” in Freud’s understanding, contains human vices, but for Jung it is primarily a storehouse of human wisdom.

The use of the term “unconscious” in a narrow sense is unfortunate, as noted, in particular, by G. S. Sullivan. As a result, this leads to an insufficiently complete understanding of mental phenomena. For my part, I would like to note that the emerging trend towards abandoning the functional concept in favor of the substantive one illustrates a general pattern characteristic of the modern Western world. Today man tends to define the world in terms of the things he possesses rather than in terms of existence. Just like we have a car, a house or a child, we have an anxiety problem, we have insomnia, we have depression, we have a psychoanalyst. Similarly, we have the unconscious. Many people now use the term “subconscious” instead of “unconscious”, and this is not accidental. Apparently, this is because the word "subconscious" is more applicable to a substantive concept. Indeed, we can say “I am conscious of something,” while it is impossible to say “I am subconscious” of something.

Finally, the term “conscious” has another, sometimes confusing, meaning. If consciousness is identified with the reflective intellect, then the unconscious is identified with unreflected experience. If we assume that the meaning of the terms “conscious” and “unconscious” in this context is easily understood and there is no confusion with their other two meanings, then such use is quite acceptable. However, in my opinion, the use of these terms is not always successful. Of course, intellectual reflection is always conscious, but not everything that is conscious is intellectual reflection. Looking at a person, I am aware of all the shades of feeling that I experience in relation to him, however, this awareness will be identical to intellectual reflection only if I, through subject-object distance, separate myself from him. Likewise, this is true if I am aware of my breathing, and again this is not at all the same as thinking about my breathing: I will cease to be aware of it the moment I begin to think about it. This provision is equally true for any action that characterizes my attitude towards the world around me. This aspect will be covered in more detail below.

Now let’s try to understand what prevents our experiences from moving into the category of conscious ones, in other words, from becoming the substance that we call conscious. At the same time, we will define the conscious and unconscious not as certain specific “parts” of an individual’s personality, filled with special content, but as a state of awareness and unconsciousness.

First of all, it is necessary to clarify: consciousness is a priori of greater value than the unconscious, if we consider these categories from the perspective of psychoanalysis. If this were not so, psychoanalysis would not set itself the task of expanding the scope of human consciousness. However, it is also obvious that in reality a person’s consciousness is largely a chain of delusions and false messages, which is caused mostly by the influence of society, and not by the individual’s inability to discern the truth. It follows from this that human consciousness in itself cannot be of value. The evolution of humanity indicates that, with the exception of a number of primitive societies, society is built on the principle of control and exploitation of the majority of its members by an insignificant minority. Control of the majority is achieved through the use of force, but this factor alone is not enough. The consciousness of the majority must be filled mainly with fictions and delusions, as a result of which it, of its own free will, agrees to obey the minority. Nevertheless, the false nature of a person’s ideas about himself, other individuals, society, etc. depends not only on these circumstances. The replacement of universal human postulates by the interests of society, which occurs in any society, is due to an attempt (and, as a rule, achievement) to preserve the structure acquired by this society in the process of evolution. At the same time, the emerging contradiction gives rise to an internal conflict in such a society: discrepancies between the interests of a person and society are hidden at the social level under the cover of all kinds of fictions and false promises.

So, we are forced to admit that human consciousness by its nature does not reflect reality, but, on the contrary, is illusory and full of delusions. It follows from this that consciousness acquires meaning only under the condition that the hidden, hitherto unconscious reality ceases to be hidden and thus becomes conscious. We will return to this issue later. Now I just want to note that our consciousness is largely “false” in content, and this is caused precisely by the influence of society, which instills misconceptions and false ideas.

The influence of society, however, is not limited to just planting fictions and false ideas in the human mind. Its role also lies in the fact that it does not allow us to realize reality. Now we come directly to the problem of repression and the formation of the unconscious.

The animal is capable of being aware of the objects around it; in the language of R. M. Becky, his consciousness can be defined as “simple.” Man, in his ability to recognize himself as the subject of his experiences, has self-awareness, which distinguishes him from the “simple consciousness” of an animal. However, awareness in a person can occur in different ways, which is apparently caused by the very high degree of complexity of this process. This or that experience can become conscious only if it is expressed in categories accessible to conscious thinking. Concepts such as “time” and “space” are universal in nature, which ensures their perception is common to all people. A category such as “causality” is accessible to many, but not all types of conscious thinking. Some categories exist only within a particular culture. In any case, experience can be realized only if it is possible to identify, compare and define it within the categories of a particular conceptual system. This system by its nature is a product of social evolution. The system of categories that defines the principles of awareness is developed in every society thanks to life experience and one or another way of defining, feeling and understanding. Such a system plays the role of a kind of filter: it is the reality of a particular society. Only by passing through this filter can the experience become conscious. In this case, we need to consider the principle of operation of this “social filter” in order to understand how it can pass through some experiences on the way to their awareness and delay others.

The first thing to remember is that not all experiences are easily recognized. The most easily recognized are physical experiences, for example pain, as well as such as sexual desire, hunger, etc. Undoubtedly, those experiences that are vitally important - either for a specific individual or for a group of individuals - easily become conscious. Experiences that are more subtle and complex in nature may be easily recognized in some cultures and not recognized in others. For example, the reverent contemplation of a rosebud with a drop of dew in the early morning, while the sun has not yet risen, the air is cool and birdsong can be heard, is easily recognized by the Japanese. For a Western person, such an experience will most likely remain unconscious, since in his eyes it is not “important” or “eventful” enough. The role that certain subtle emotional experiences play in the culture of a particular country determines the ease of their conscious perception. Very often, in one language there may be no words that define any emotional experience, while in another there may be many. For example, in English, the whole range of emotions from erotic feelings to brotherly and maternal love is expressed by the word “love”. If any emotional experiences do not find expression in different words of a particular language, they actually remain unconscious; the reverse is also true. In general, it can be argued that rarely conscious experiences are those for which there is no corresponding word in a given language.

However, the filtering properties of language are manifested not only in this. The variety of words used to refer to a particular experience is only one aspect of the manifestation of cross-linguistic differences. Languages ​​differ from each other at the syntactic, grammatical and semantic levels. Any language reveals the attitude towards the life of the people speaking it. Language is a kind of cast of a certain way of experiencing being. Let's give a few examples. In some languages, the verb form “it is raining” can have fundamental differences in semantics, depending on the context: am I talking about rain because I got caught in the rain and got wet; either I am watching from the hut as it rains, or I heard from someone that it is coming. This example clearly demonstrates that focusing attention on the circumstances of experiencing a particular phenomenon has a significant impact on how these phenomena are experienced. (For example, for our modern culture, the source of knowledge of any fact is not of fundamental importance: be it direct or indirect experience or the message of other people. Only the purely intellectual aspect of knowledge is important.)

Or another example. In the Hebrew language, the aspectual feature of verbs (perfect - imperfect aspect) is more important than temporal differences (past, present, future), which are of secondary importance. For Latin, both categories (both tense and aspect) are equally important, while English emphasizes the time of the action. Obviously, such differences in the way verbs are conjugated are a reflection of differences in the experience of events.

Differences in the use of verbs and nouns in different languages, or even among different people speaking the same language, is another manifestation of this phenomenon. A noun refers to a subject, while a verb refers to an action. Since more and more people in our time think in terms of the possession of things, rather than existence or action, this is reflected in their speech: they use nouns more readily than verbs. How a person experiences, which of the experiences he is aware of - all this is conveyed by language at the level of vocabulary, grammar, syntax, and the structure of the language as a whole.

Logic, which governs human thinking within a particular culture, represents the second level of the filter that allows awareness of experiences. In this case good example serves as a distinction between Aristotelian and paradoxical logic.

Aristotelian logic is based on three laws: the law of identity states that A is A; law of contradiction - A is not A; the law of the excluded middle - A is either B or not B. According to Aristotle, “... at the same time it is impossible to be and not to be... this is the most reliable of all principles.”

However, there is another logic, which, in contrast to Aristotle’s, can be called paradoxical. In this case, the idea is expressed that A and not A are not mutually exclusive objects like predicates of X. Paradoxical logic prevailed in Chinese and Indian thought, the philosophy of Heraclitus. Later it was developed by Hegel and Marx under the name dialectics. The concept of paradoxical logic was expressed quite clearly by Lao Tzu: “True words remind of their opposite” and, in addition, by Zhuang Tzu: “This is this. Not this - also this.”

For a Westerner, it seems an unusually difficult, and perhaps impossible, task to understand experiences that contradict Aristotelian logic and, as a result, are meaningless from its point of view, because the truth of the latter within Western civilization is not questioned a priori. Freud's concept of ambivalence is a good example of this. Freud believed that a person is capable of experiencing feelings of love and hatred towards another individual at the same time. From the standpoint of Aristotelian logic, such an experience is meaningless, while according to paradoxical logic it is completely “logical”. As a result, most people have virtually no ability to recognize ambivalent emotions. Such people, realizing their love for any subject, cannot realize hatred for him, since the awareness of two opposing feelings for the same person at the same time would be meaningless for them.

Human experience represents the third level of the filter, which has nothing to do with language and logic. Each society imposes a ban on certain thoughts and feelings, that is, on something that cannot only be “done,” but that it is forbidden to even “think about.” Suppose that in some warlike tribe that robs and kills everyone belonging to other tribes, there will be those who one day feel disgusted with robbery and murder. But since such a feeling is incompatible with the way of life of the tribe to which he belongs, it is difficult to imagine that such a warrior could realize it; otherwise, he would risk finding himself in complete isolation and being persecuted by his fellow tribesmen. Therefore, in such a situation, the individual would rather experience a psychosomatic symptom, expressed in the urge to vomit, rather than awareness of such a feeling. Conversely, if a member of a peace-loving tribe of farmers were to feel the desire to rob and kill members of other tribes, the opposite reaction would occur. As in the first case, he most likely would have suppressed this feeling and would not have allowed himself to realize it. At the same time, he might develop another symptom in the form of intense fear.

Another example. It probably often happens in large cities that sellers deal with poor visitors who do not have enough money to buy, say, the cheapest clothes. It can be assumed that in such a situation one of the sellers will experience a natural human desire to give up the suit to a poor buyer at a price he can afford. However, I assume that very few of them will admit such a feeling, and most will suppress it within themselves. Some of these sellers may be aggressive against the buyer, trying to veil with such an attitude their unconscious impulse, which at night can cause a dream.

Based on the idea that a person will not allow himself to realize desires prohibited by society, we ask two questions. Firstly, why are certain motives unacceptable in a given society? Secondly, what causes such a great fear in a person before realizing such a forbidden impulse?

To answer the first question, it is necessary to consider the concept of “social character”. One of the conditions for survival for any society is the formation of such a type of character so that members of the society feel the desire to do what they should do. In other words, the fulfillment of a social function should be considered by members of society not as an obligation, but as a natural desire to act in a certain direction. If we deviate from this scheme, society would be in danger, because many of its members would cease to act in the right way, and the social character would lose predictability and stability. Thus, in every society there are prohibitions, the violation of which leads to ostracism. At the same time, it is obvious that in different societies the imposition of one or another type of social character, as well as the observance of prohibitions in order to protect the integrity of society, occurs with varying degrees of cruelty.

The answer to the second question lies in clarifying the nature of the individual’s great fear of possible ostracism, forcing him to prevent the penetration of taboo impulses into consciousness. A person must somehow understand his place among other individuals in order to avoid madness. The inability to relate to others leads to loss of sanity. If death is the main source of fear in an animal, then for a person the most terrible thing is loneliness. According to Freud, it is the fear of complete loneliness that prevents the awareness of forbidden feelings and thoughts to a greater extent than the fear of castration.

Thus, we can conclude that the conscious and unconscious are socially determined in nature. A person is capable of realizing only those feelings and thoughts that have passed through a triple filter: a special, i.e. language, a filter of logic and a filter of social prohibitions. At the unconscious level, all motivations that have not passed through this filter remain. Focusing on the social essence of the unconscious, we must make two clarifications. The first is to state the obvious fact that in any family, in addition to the prohibitions of society, there are its own varieties of these prohibitions. As a result, all impulses that arise in the child and are forbidden in this family will be suppressed by him for fear of losing the love of his parents. On the other hand, adults who are more honest with themselves and less inclined to “repress” will try to reduce the number of these prohibitions for their children. The second clarification concerns a more complex phenomenon, the nature of which lies in the fact that a person does not want to be aware of not only socially taboo impulses, but also all experiences that contradict the very foundations of existence, the principles of “humanistic consciousness” and the desire for improvement inherent in a person.

Certain regressive impulses, such as the desire to return to the state of intrauterine life, the desire for death, the absorption of loved ones in order to become closer to them, etc., in any case, are incompatible with the fundamental principles of human nature and its evolution, regardless of whether they enter whether they are in conflict with social character or not. The stage of evolution occupied by the child justifies his desire to be looked after, which is normal at his age. Such aspirations of an adult indicate his illness. Such a person is aware of the contradiction between what he is and what he should be, because his aspirations are determined not only by the past, but also by the goals characteristic of him as an integral personality. When we say “should,” we do not mean any moral obligations, but the immanent desire for evolution embedded in his chromosomes, similar to the information “given” in them about his physical build, eye color, etc.

The individual is afraid of thoughts about the forbidden, fearing to lose touch with society and find himself in complete isolation. At the same time, he is dominated by the fear of alienation from the human principle located in the depths of his consciousness, that is, he is afraid of dehumanization. However, in a society that preaches inhumane standards of behavior, this fear, as history shows, pales in comparison to the fear of being ostracized. The contradiction between the fear of isolation from society and the loss of one's own humanity loses its relevance as society itself becomes more humane. And on the contrary, this internal conflict will be deeper, the greater the gap between universal human goals and the goals of a given society. It probably goes without saying that the ease with which an individual is able to survive alienation from society directly depends on his intellectual and moral development, on how important universal human values ​​are for him. By overcoming the pressure of society, becoming a cosmopolitan citizen of the world, a person gains the ability to live in accordance with his moral principles. Thoughts and impulses that are incompatible with the norms of a particular society are not recognized by the individual if he is forced to suppress them in himself. So, we can conclude that the content of the unconscious and conscious, considered formally, outside of personal aspects, the influence of family and the moral attitudes of the individual, depends on the social structure and patterns of thoughts and emotions generated by a particular society. If we talk about the content of the unconscious, then no generalizations are acceptable here. However, it can be argued that in any case it will be a reflection of the human personality with all its light and dark sides, the basis of the various answers that a given individual is able to give to an existential question. If an individual belongs to a society dominated by the destructive idea of ​​likening man to an animal, it is obvious that all other thoughts and impulses will be suppressed by him, while this regressive desire will be dominant and conscious. And on the contrary, in a society that preaches humanistic principles, dark, animal impulses will not become conscious principles of life. However, no matter what culture this or that individual belongs to, he is potentially a primitive man, a beast of prey, and a cannibal, but at the same time, he has reason and feelings of love and justice. In this case, we come to the conclusion that the unconscious cannot be characterized as something positive or negative, rational or irrational, because, carrying within itself all human principles, it is both at the same time. We can say that the unconscious covers the whole person, with the exception of that part of him that was formed under the influence of society. Consciousness is a reflection of the social aspect of the individual; it is a product of current prohibitions that have developed during the specific historical period in which the individual happened to be born. The unconscious embodies the universal man who belongs to the cosmos. Being the container of all human principles, it personifies in him a plant, an animal, and his entire spirit. It contains his past - from the birth of human civilization, and his future - right up to the day when man, having realized his full potential, naturally merges with nature.

Defining the conscious and unconscious in this way, it is necessary to understand what we mean by the transformation of the unconscious into the conscious and the overcoming of repression. Freud proceeded from the fact that the unconscious is a receptacle for repressed instinctual impulses. At the same time, the process of transforming the unconscious into the conscious is by its nature very limited, because such instinctive impulses are unacceptable within the framework of a civilized society. Studying such instinctive impulses as the tendency towards incest, fear of castration, and the attitude towards the penis as an object of envy, he believed that their awareness is repressed by man as he evolves. Freud assumed that the powerful human ego is capable of transforming repressed desire if it can be realized. Freud's idea about the transformation of the unconscious into the conscious (“It” into “I”) takes on a deeper and more complete meaning if we consider the unconscious not in such a narrow aspect, as Freud did, but as we did above. The transformation of the unconscious into the conscious transforms the idea of ​​the universal nature of man into the idea of ​​a genuine experience of this universality, which represents the realization of the humanistic task.

Freud understood that the process of repression encounters the personal perception of reality by a particular individual and that the result of overcoming repression is a rethinking of reality itself by this individual. In Freud's terminology, the distorting nature of unconscious drives is called transference. (G. S. Sullivan characterized this same phenomenon as "paratactic distortion".)

Freud revealed the peculiarity of human perception by showing how the patient perceives the analyst. He realized that for the patient the analyst is not what he really is, but is a projection of his own thoughts, desires and fears, which took shape in childhood as a result of communication with people who played an important role for him. By contacting his own unconscious, the patient can correct his distorted perceptions. As a result of this, he is able to see in its true light not only the personality of the analyst, but also his parents. So, Freud realized that a person perceives reality distortedly. While we think we are seeing a real image, it turns out that, without realizing it, we are only seeing a picture of our own ideas. However, in addition to the distorting effect of transference, Freud discovered many other features of the distortion of perception caused by repression. Unconscious impulses unknown to a person control his behavior, but at the same time contradict his consciousness, which embodies the demands of society. This conflict gives rise to the effect of projection: without realizing one’s own unconscious impulses, a person can project them onto another individual and thereby become aware of them in him with disgust. On the other hand, not understanding the true origin of his motives, a person will try to find a rational explanation for them. Freud characterized such a conscious false justification of impulses that are not actually conscious as rationalization. It should be noted that most of what a person is aware of is delusion, whether we are faced with transference, projection or rationalization, while the reality is the unconscious it represses.

Keeping in mind our broader interpretation of the sources of origin of the unconscious, we can talk about a new approach to the interpretation of the conscious and unconscious. To begin with, the average individual, while confident that he is awake, is in reality half asleep. With the words “half-asleep state,” I want to express the idea that this person’s connection with reality is far from complete, because most of the reality in his mind, be it his inner world or the external environment, is the fruit of fictions generated by his mind. He is aware of reality only to the extent that it is necessary for his life as a member of society. In general, reality is realized by a person to the extent that it is necessary to ensure his survival. Conversely, a person ceases to be aware of external reality during sleep, although this awareness is easily restored if necessary. If a person is insane, then even in case of extreme necessity he is not able to fully comprehend external reality. The consciousness of the average individual consists for the most part of fictions and delusions, being “false” in nature, while reality is precisely what a person is not aware of. Thus, a person is conscious of his illusions and can become conscious of the reality behind these illusions.

As we have already noted, human consciousness is essentially the embodiment of not so many patterns of experiences imposed by society, while all the rest of the wealth and diversity of manifestations of an integral personality lies in the unconscious. In this case, the process of repression leads to the fact that the human “I”, considered as a personality determined by the realities of a particular society, is separated from the “I”, which is the embodiment of an integral personality. A person finds himself alienated from himself, and to the same extent everything becomes alien to him. Experiencing only an insignificant part of the reality hidden in him and other individuals, a person becomes an inferior cripple, cut off from a huge layer of human emotions.

So far we have considered repression only from the point of view of its distorting function. Another aspect of it is expressed not in distortion, but in the transformation of certain human experiences into something unreal.

This is accomplished in the process of cerebration, i.e., human brain activity. For example, a person believes that he sees some objects, but in reality he sees only some of their symbols. Or he assumes that he feels something, but in fact these feelings are only thought by him. The human personality, completely determined by its brain activity, finds itself in alienation, because, as in Plato’s allegory, it accepts only the shadows it sees as reality. The process of cerebration is directly related to the polysemy of language. A person who defines any experience with a word immediately becomes alienated from it, since the word replaces this experience. In general, a full-fledged experience can remain only until the moment of linguistic expression. IN modern culture Compared to other periods of history, a similar process of cerebration is apparently most widespread and characterized by the greatest intensity. Words are increasingly replacing real experiences, which is primarily due to the ever-increasing attraction to intellectual knowledge as the basis of scientific and technological progress and, as a consequence, to literacy and education. However, the person we are talking about does not realize this. In reality, a person has only memory and thinking, he is deprived of experiences, although he believes that he sees or feels something. While man thinks he is grasping reality, it is actually being grasped by his mental self. A person considers the experience as his own, while on the whole he himself, his eyes, his mind, his heart, his womb, actually do not take part in it, comprehending nothing.

But what, then, is the transformation of the unconscious into the conscious? To answer this question more accurately, it is necessary to formulate it somewhat differently. We should not talk about “conscious” and “unconscious”, but about the degree of awareness - consciousness and unconsciousness - unconsciousness. In this case, we can formulate our question differently: what happens when a person realizes something that he was not previously aware of? The answer in general terms will be as follows: this process, step by step, brings a person closer to understanding the false, illusory essence of consciousness, which he is accustomed to viewing as “normal.” By realizing the hitherto unconscious, a person expands the area of ​​his consciousness, thereby comprehending reality, i.e., approaching the truth on an intellectual and emotional level. The expansion of consciousness is like awakening, removing the veil from the eyes, leaving the cave, illuminating the darkness with light.

Perhaps this is the experience that Zen Buddhists define as “enlightenment.”

We will return to this issue later; now I would like to dwell in more detail on an aspect that is of exceptional importance for psychoanalysis. We are talking about the essence of intuition, insight and knowledge, i.e., about what determines the possibility of transforming the unconscious into the conscious. There is no doubt that Freud, in the early years of his psychiatric activity, agreed with the prevailing statement in science about the exclusively intellectual and theoretical nature of knowledge. He believed that to heal the patient it would be enough to explain to him the origin of certain symptoms of his disease and the results of the study of his unconscious. He assumed that the patient's receiving this intellectual knowledge could have a healing effect on him. However, Freud and other analysts soon came to the conclusion that Spinoza's assertion about the emotional essence of intellectual knowledge was correct. It became clear that intellectual knowledge by itself was not capable of bringing about any change. Its effect can only be manifested in the fact that with an intellectual comprehension of his unconscious impulses, a person will be able to better control them, but such a task belongs more to the field of traditional ethics than psychoanalysis. In this state of affairs, the patient is not able to get in touch with his unconscious, does not experience this deep and vast reality within himself. He only thinks about it, because he considers himself as the object of his research, turning out to be a distant scientific observer. In reality, the discovery of the unconscious is an emotional experience, not an act of intellectual knowledge, which is difficult, if not impossible, to express in words. At the same time, the process of discovering the unconscious does not at all exclude preliminary thinking and reflection. However, the discovery itself is always spontaneous and unexpected, holistic in nature, because a person experiences it with his whole being: it’s as if his eyes open, he himself and the whole world appear before him in a new light, he looks at everything in a new way. If before experiencing this experience he felt anxiety, then after it, on the contrary, he gains confidence in his abilities. The discovery of the unconscious can be characterized as a chain of growing, deeply felt experiences that go beyond theoretical and intellectual knowledge.

This method is characterized by the fact that it overcomes the Western rationalistic concept of knowledge: a person ceases to be only an observer of himself as an object of study, and the basis of the knowledge he receives is experience. The concept of knowledge based on experience (an exception for the Western tradition) can be traced in Spinoza, who defined intuition as the highest form of knowledge, in Fichte with his intellectual intuition, in Bergson with his creative consciousness. Such qualities of intuition overcome the subject-object differentiation of the cognition process. (The significance of such experiences within the framework of Zen Buddhism will be discussed later.)

In our brief overview of the most important elements of psychoanalysis, it is necessary to touch upon one more aspect. We are talking about the role of the psychoanalyst. Initially, it was similar to the role of any doctor. However, some time later the situation changed radically. Freud came to the conclusion that before the analyst subjects his patient to analysis, he himself must become the subject of such research, get rid of his own delusions, neurotic manifestations, etc. Such a need seems untenable if we consider it from the perspective of Freud himself. Let us turn to Freud’s thoughts quoted above that the analyst should be, first of all, a “model”, a “teacher”, that the relationship between the analyst and the patient should be built on “love of truth”, excluding any “falsity and deception”. In this case, Freud came to the realization that the role of the psychoanalyst did not fit within the framework of the role assigned to the ordinary doctor. However, the idea that the analyst is an outside observer and the patient is the object of his research remains fundamental to him.

As psychoanalysis evolved, the concept of the outside observer underwent changes, and this happened in two different aspects. In the last years of his life, Ferenczi came to the conclusion that the analyst should not limit himself to simply observing and interpreting the patient's behavior. In his opinion, the patient, like a child, longs for love, and the analyst must be able to love him with a great love that he has never known before. By love, Ferenczi did not mean an erotic feeling; it was more about a parental type of love and care. G. S. Sullivan came to the same conclusion, but from a different angle. In an effort to refute the prevailing concept of the analyst's detachment, he suggested that the analyst should relate to the patient from the position not of a distant observer, but of a participating observer. In my opinion, Sullivan was not so far from the truth, and the role of the analyst would be more accurately defined not so much as a “participating observer”, but as an observing participant. However, the word “participant” itself, implying being outside, is not entirely appropriate here, since knowing a person requires becoming oneself, penetrating inside him. The analyst is able to understand the patient only to the extent that he himself is able to experience his experiences. Otherwise, the analyst will have only intellectual knowledge about him, being in the dark about what he is actually experiencing. As a consequence, such an analyst will never be able to convince his patient that he shares and understands his experiences. The ability to get close, to become close to the patient, to be completely imbued with and filled with him, the ability to live his life, to be open and disposed towards him is one of the fundamental conditions for understanding and treatment with the help of psychoanalysis. The analyst, on the one hand, must be able to turn into his patient, on the other hand, remain himself; he must forget that he is a doctor, but at the same time still be aware of it. He will be able to give his patient a meaningful “conclusion” only if he accepts this paradox for granted, for it will be the fruit of his own experience. While the analyst is analyzing the patient, the reverse process also occurs: the patient analyzes the analyst. This is due to the fact that the analyst, unwittingly, reveals his own unconscious when in contact with the patient’s unconscious. It follows from this that the analyst not only treats his patient, but is himself “treated” with his help; not only does the analyst understand the patient, but ultimately the patient comes to understand the analyst. This leads to achieving solidarity and unity between them.

Such an attitude towards the patient should be realistic and devoid of any sentimentality. The analyst, or anyone else, cannot “save” another person. He will never be able to do for his patient what he can only do for himself. He can only be an adviser, be like a midwife, show the way, help remove obstacles and sometimes directly help him. With all his behavior, and not just in words, he must bring this to the consciousness of his patient. The analyst is also obliged to emphasize that the real situation of their communication is limited and differs in this from communication between two ordinary people and that he is clearly aware of this. Their interaction is limited by time and space, since the analyst has his own life and, in addition, he has a number of patients. However, in the meeting between patient and analyst there are no restrictions. During an analytic session, for the patient, as well as for the analyst, there is nothing more important in the world than their conversation. In interacting with the patient, the analyst is in fact not limited to the formal role of the doctor. For his patient, he becomes a teacher, an example, maybe even a master. However, this is achievable only on the condition that the analyst overcomes his own alienation, achieves complete freedom and self-awareness, otherwise he will not be an analyzer in his own eyes. The process of didactic analysis is not the end for the analyst, but the starting point of continuous self-analysis, which means a gradual awakening.

Principles of Zen - Buddhism

In a brief overview of Freudian psychoanalysis and its development within the framework of humanistic psychoanalysis, I touched upon the problem of human existence and the importance of the existential question. The well-being of a person was considered as overcoming alienation and isolation, while the peculiarity of the psychoanalytic approach lies in penetrating into the human unconscious. In addition, I talked about the nature of the unconscious and the conscious and the meaning that psychoanalysis attaches to the concepts of “know” and “be aware”. Finally, I talked about the importance of the role of the analyst in psychoanalysis.

One might assume that a systematic description of Zen Buddhism would be the primary condition for its comparison with the psychoanalytic method, but I will only touch on those aspects of it that have direct points of contact with psychoanalysis.

The main goal of Zen is to achieve enlightenment, or satori. A person can never fully understand Zen unless he has had this experience. Since I myself have not experienced satori, I am not able to talk about Zen on the level that is implied by the completeness of this experience, but can only speak about it in the most general terms. At the same time, since satori “represents an art and method of enlightenment almost incomprehensible to the European consciousness,” I will not consider Zen from the position of C. G. Jung. At least Zen is no more complex for a European than Heraclitus, Meister Eckhart or Heidegger. The enormous effort required to achieve satori is the main obstacle to understanding Zen. Most people are not capable of making such an effort, so even in Japan satori is very rare. However, despite the fact that I am not able to speak competently about Zen, I have a rough idea of ​​it, which became possible thanks to reading Dr. Suzuki’s books, attending several of his lectures, and generally becoming familiar with Zen Buddhism from all the sources available to me. I assume that I will be able to make a preliminary comparison of Zen - Buddhism and psychoanalysis.

What is the main goal of Zen? Suzuki says the following in this regard: “Zen by its nature is the art of immersion in the essence of human existence, it shows the path leading from slavery to freedom... It can be said that Zen releases the natural energy inherent in us by nature, which in ordinary life is suppressed and is distorted to such an extent that it is not able to be realized adequately... Therefore, the goal of Zen is to prevent a person from losing his mind and becoming ugly. By human freedom I understand the possibility of realizing all the creative and noble impulses inherent in his heart. Usually we are blind in our ignorance that we are endowed with all the necessary qualities that can make us happy and teach us to love.”

I would like to focus on some important aspects of Zen that follow from this definition: Zen is the art of immersion in the essence of human existence; this is the path leading from slavery to freedom; Zen releases the natural energy of man; it protects a person from madness and self-deformation; it encourages a person to realize his abilities to love and be happy.

The main goal of Zen is the experience of enlightenment - satori. This process is described in detail in the works of Dr. Suzuki. Here I would like to dwell on some aspects of this issue that are especially important for Westerners, and primarily psychologists. Satori is not by its nature a mental abnormality. It is not characterized by a loss of sense of reality, as occurs in a trance state. At the same time, satori does not represent the narcissistic state of mind that is a characteristic manifestation of some religious teachings. “If you like, this is an absolutely normal state of mind...” According to Yoshu, “Zen is your everyday thinking.” “Which way a door opens depends on the location of its hinges.” The experiencer of satori experiences the special effects of the state of enlightenment. “The whole process of our thinking will begin to flow completely differently, which will allow us to experience greater satisfaction, greater peace, greater joy than it was before. The very atmosphere of existence will undergo changes. Zen also has rejuvenating properties. The spring flower will become even more beautiful, and the mountain waterfall will become cool and clear.”

As is clear from the above excerpt from Dr. Suzuki's work, satori is the true embodiment of human well-being. Using psychological terminology, enlightenment can be defined, in my opinion, as a state that is fully realized and understood by the individual, his complete orientation towards reality, both internal and external. This state is recognized not by the human brain or any other part of his body, but by the individual himself in his entirety. He is aware of it not as something mediated by his thinking, but as an absolute reality: a flower, a dog, another person. Waking up, a person becomes open and responsive to the world around him. This becomes possible due to the fact that he ceases to consider himself as a thing. Enlightenment implies the “complete awakening” of the whole personality, its movement towards reality.

It must be clearly understood that neither a trance, in which a person is convinced that he is awake while he is sound asleep, nor any destruction of a person’s personality has anything to do with the state of enlightenment. Apparently, for a representative of the Western school of psychology, satori will look like a subjective state, like some kind of trance state independently induced by a person; with all his sympathy for Zen Buddhism, even Dr. Jung did not escape such a misconception: “Due to the fact that the imagination itself is a mental phenomenon, it makes absolutely no difference whether we define enlightenment as “real” or “imaginary.” " Be that as it may, a person, being "enlightened", believes that he is so, regardless of whether this corresponds to reality, or he only claims it... Even if he were insincere in his words, his lie would be spiritualized." Of course, such a statement is only a fragment of Jung's general relativistic concept, which determines his understanding of the “authenticity” of religious experience. For my part, I cannot under any circumstances consider lying as something “spiritual”; to me it is nothing but a lie. In any case, Zen Buddhists are not proponents of this Jungian concept, which has some merit. On the contrary, it is extremely important for them to distinguish the real and, therefore, true change in human worldview as a result of a genuine experience of satori from an imaginary experience, possibly due to psychopathological factors, in which the Zen student assumes that he has achieved satori, while his teacher is sure of the opposite. One of the main tasks of a teacher is to ensure that the Zen student does not substitute false enlightenment for real enlightenment.

In psychological terms, we can say that complete awakening is the achievement of a “productive orientation,” which implies a creative and active, like Spinoza’s, perception of the world, and not a passive, consumer, accumulative and sharing attitude towards it. The internal conflict that causes the alienation of one’s own “I” from the “not-I” is resolved when a person reaches a state of creative productivity. Any object under consideration no longer exists in isolation from a person. The rose he sees represents the object of his thought precisely as a rose, and not in the sense that, by saying that he sees it, he only asserts that this object is identical to the definition of a rose for him. A person in a state of complete productivity becomes at the same time highly objective: his greed or fear no longer distorts the objects he sees, that is, he sees them as they really are, and not as they are. he would like to see them. Such perception eliminates the possibility of paratactic distortions. The human “I” is activated, and a merging of subjective and objective perception occurs. The active process of experiencing occurs in the person himself, while the object remains unchanged. The human “I” animates the object, and is itself animate through it. Only someone who is not aware of the extent to which his vision of the world is mental or parataxic in nature can consider satori as a kind of mystical act. A person who has realized this comes to another realization, which can be defined as absolutely real. To understand what we are talking about, just a fleeting experience of this sensation is enough. A boy learning to play the piano cannot compete in skill with the great maestro. However, the maestro’s game does not contain anything supernatural, representing a set of the same elementary skills that a boy learns; the only difference is that these skills are honed by the maestro to perfection.

Two Zen Buddhist parables clearly demonstrate how important an undistorted and non-intellectual perception of reality is to the Zen concept. One of them tells of a conversation between a mentor and a monk:

“Are you trying to establish yourself in the truth?

How do you educate yourself?

I eat when I'm hungry and sleep when I'm tired.

But everyone does this. It turns out that they educate themselves the same way as you?

Because while eating they are not busy eating, but allow themselves to be distracted by extraneous things; when they sleep, they do not sleep at all, but see a thousand and one dreams. This is what makes them different from me.”

There is probably no need to comment on this parable in any way. Seized by greed, fear and self-doubt, the average person, not always realizing it himself, constantly lives in a world of illusions. The world around him in his eyes acquires properties that exist only in his imagination. This state of affairs was as relevant for the era to which the above parable refers as for our days: and today almost everyone only believes that he sees, tastes or feels something, rather than actually experiencing such experiences.

Another equally revealing statement was written by a Zen teacher: “Until the time I began to study Zen, rivers were rivers to me and mountains were mountains. After I received my first knowledge of Zen, rivers ceased to be rivers and mountains ceased to be mountains. Now that I have comprehended the teaching, the rivers again became rivers for me, and the mountains became mountains.” And in this case, we become witnesses to the fact that reality begins to be perceived in a new way. As a rule, a person is mistaken when he takes the shadows of things for their true essence, as happens in Plato’s cave. Having realized that he was wrong, he still only has the knowledge that the shadows of things are not their essence. Leaving the cave and emerging from the darkness into the light, he awakens and now sees not shadows, but the true essence of things. Being in darkness, he is unable to comprehend the light. The New Testament (John 1:5) says: “And the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness does not comprehend it.” But as soon as he emerges from the darkness, the difference between the world of shadows in which he lived before and reality immediately opens before him.

Understanding human nature is one of the primary tasks of Zen, which guides a person to self-knowledge. However, we are not talking here about the inherent modern psychology category of “scientific” knowledge, not about the knowledge of a cognizing intellectual person who considers himself as an object. In Zen, however, this knowledge is non-intellectual and unmediated; it is a deep experience in which the knower and the known become one. Suzuki formulated this idea as follows: “The main task of Zen is to penetrate as naturally and directly as possible into the deepest aspects of human existence.”

The intellect is not capable of giving a comprehensive answer to an existential question. Achieving enlightenment becomes possible provided that the individual renounces many misconceptions generated by his mind that impede the true vision of the world. “Zen requires complete freedom of mind. Even one thought becomes an obstacle and a trap on the path to true freedom of the soul.” It follows from this that the concept of sympathy or empathy postulated by Western psychology is unacceptable according to Zen Buddhist teachings. “The concept of sympathy, or empathy, is the intellectual embodiment of a primal experience. If we talk about the experience itself, it does not allow any division. At the same time, in its desire to comprehend the experience, to subject it to logical analysis, which involves discrimination, or bifurcation, the mind thereby harms itself and destroys the experience. At the same time, the true sense of identity disappears, which allows the intellect to carry out its inherent destruction of reality. The phenomenon of sympathy or empathy, which is the result of the process of intellectualization, may be more characteristic of a philosopher who is incapable of experiencing genuine experience.”

However, the spontaneity of experience can be limited not only by the intellect as such, but also by an idea or an individual. In this regard, Zen “does not attach much importance to the sacred sutras, nor to their interpretation by sages and scholars. Individual experience conflicts with the opinion of authority and objective definitions.” Within the framework of Zen, a person must be free even from God, from Buddha, as expressed in the Zen saying: “Having said the word “Buddha,” wash your lips.”

Development logical thinking is not the task of Zen, which distinguishes it from the Western tradition. Zen “poses a dilemma before man, which he must be able to resolve in more time.” high level thinking than what logic is."

As a consequence, the concept of a mentor in Zen Buddhism does not correspond to its Western counterpart. In the Zen understanding, the benefit brought to the student by a mentor consists only in the fact that the latter exists in principle: in general, for Zen, a mentor is such only to the extent that he is able to exercise control over his own mental activity. “What to do - until the student is ready to comprehend anything, he cannot help him in any way. The highest reality is comprehended only independently.”

The modern Western reader, accustomed to choosing between meek submission to an authority that suppresses him and limits his freedom and a complete denial of it, finds himself puzzled by the attitude of the Zen master to the student. Within Zen we are talking about a different, “reasonable authority.” The student does everything only of his own free will, without experiencing any coercion from the mentor. The mentor does not demand anything from him. The student is guided by his own desire to learn from his mentor, because he wants to receive from him knowledge that he himself does not yet possess. The teacher “has no need to explain anything with words; for him there is no concept of sacred teaching. Before anything is affirmed or denied, everything is weighed. There is no need to remain silent or idle talk.” The Zen teacher completely excludes any imposition of his authority on the student and at the same time persistently strives to win from him true authority based on real experience.

It must be borne in mind that the true achievement of enlightenment is inextricably linked with the transformation of human character; one who is not aware of this will not be able to understand Zen at all. This reveals the Buddhist origin of Zen, since salvation within Buddhism implies the need for a change in human character. A person must free himself from the passion of possession, must tame his greed, pride and arrogance. He must be grateful to the past, be a hard worker in the present and look to the future with a sense of responsibility. Living according to Zen principles means “treating yourself and the world around you with gratitude and reverence.” For Zen, this position in life, which underlies the “hidden virtue,” is very characteristic. Its meaning is that a person should not waste the powers given by nature, but live a full life, both in an ordinary, mundane sense, and in a moral sense.

Zen sets before man the goal of liberation from slavery and gaining freedom, achieving “absolute invulnerability and courage” in an ethical sense. “Zen is based on a person's character, not on his intellect. Consequently, the main postulate of life for him is human will.”

Overcoming repression and enlightenment

Speaking about the relationship between psychoanalysis and Zen, what conclusion do we come to?

Probably, the fact that the incomparability of Zen - Buddhism and psychoanalysis is only a first deceptive impression could have puzzled the reader a lot. The similarity between them seems to be an even more surprising phenomenon.

First of all, let us repeat Dr. Suzuki's definition of the goal of Zen. “Zen by its nature is the art of immersion in the essence of human existence, it shows the path leading from slavery to freedom...

We can say that Zen releases the natural energy inherent in us by nature, which in ordinary life is suppressed and distorted to such an extent that it is not able to be realized adequately... Therefore, the goal of Zen is to prevent a person from losing his mind and becoming ugly. By human freedom I understand the possibility of realizing all the creative and noble impulses inherent in his heart. Usually we are blind in our ignorance that we are endowed with all the necessary qualities that can make us happy and teach us to love.”

Such a definition of the goal of Zen, without any reservations, can also be considered as an interpretation of the postulates of psychoanalysis, since such tasks as self-penetration, liberation, finding happiness and love, realization of energy and salvation from illnesses and deformities are characteristic of psychoanalysis to the same extent as Zen Buddhism .

The idea that enlightenment is an alternative to illness for a person may seem strange at first glance, but it is quite reasonable. Traditional psychiatry asks the question of why some people become sick. In my opinion, it would be more correct to ask why most people do not get sick. If we consider human existence in the conditions of current realities, remembering the alienation, loneliness, and helplessness of the individual, it would be logical to assume that he will not be able to cope with such pressure and will simply be destroyed. In reality, most people manage to avoid this, but salvation is achieved at the cost of mutilation of their own personality. People replace alienation with everyday routine, opportunism, the desire for power, prestige, money, service to one or another religious cult shared with other individuals, stoic self-torture or defiant narcissism. However, all this can maintain health in a person only for a certain time. Only a complete, creative response to the world, approaching enlightenment in its absolute, can become a real protection of a person from possible illness. However, before moving on to consider the most important aspects in the comparison of psychoanalysis and Zen, I would like to dwell on some details of secondary importance.

Firstly, it should be said about the ethical orientation common to psychoanalysis and Zen. Overcoming greed by a person, expressed in the desire for possession, fame or something similar (which is consonant with the concept of “hungry” in the New Testament) in accordance with the teachings of Zen, is a necessary condition for achieving the goal. This is precisely the goal of psychoanalysis. Freud, who developed the theory of the evolution of libido and identified its four levels (oral-receptive, oral-sadistic, anal and genital), suggested that under normal conditions the human character, initially distinguished by such qualities as greed, cruelty and greed, is transformed ethically. Having placed greater emphasis on the value aspect of the issue under consideration and in accordance with the experience of Freud's clinical observations, I use my own terminology: the process of evolution is defined by me as a transition from a receptive orientation through exploitative, accumulative and sharing to a productive orientation. However, no matter in what terms this idea is expressed, this does not change the state of affairs: psychoanalysis considers the greed inherent in individuals who have failed to realize their active and productive inclinations as a pathological phenomenon. At the same time, the fundamental task of psychoanalysis, as well as Zen, is to help a person overcome greed and learn love and compassion, in other words, to promote the ethical transformation of personality. A person is not forced to a virtuous existence, he is not forbidden to live “in sin”; it is only assumed that the evolution of the individual’s consciousness will itself rid him of forbidden impulses. However, no matter how dependent the state of enlightenment may be on the moral transformation of a person, it would be a deep mistake to believe that the tasks of Zen do not imply the overcoming of greed, narcissism and narrow-mindedness, or that the acquisition of humility, love and mercy by a person is not an indispensable condition for achieving satori. In the same way, it would be wrong to assume that a change in human character is not necessary for the realization of the tasks of psychoanalysis. An individual who has reached a productive level is free from greed and narcissism; he acquires humility. Having parted with his illusions, he sees himself as he really is. Despite the fact that the goals of psychoanalysis and Zen are not limited to ethical frameworks, their achievement is impossible without moral changes in the personality.

The requirement to be independent of any authority is another aspect common to psychoanalysis and Zen. It was he who served as Freud's main basis for criticizing religion. Religion, in his opinion, misleads a person by imposing on him the idea of ​​​​good coming from God as opposed to true dependence on paternal care and punishment. According to Freud, belief in God is a manifestation of human infantility. A person cannot gain independence until he is fully mature. However, what would Freud's opinion be on a "religion" that instructs a person to purify his mouth at the mention of the word "Buddha"? How would he react to a religion in which there is neither God nor blind submission to any authority; religion, which sets before a person the goal of liberation from any dependence and awakening activity in him; a religion that seeks to confirm a person in the idea that only he himself should be responsible for his destiny?

It may be assumed that such a denial of any authoritarian principle in Zen is in conflict with the role assigned to the figure of the analyst in psychoanalysis. In this aspect, the deep similarity of the approaches in Zen and psychoanalysis can again be traced: in both cases, the patient, or student, receives knowledge from his mentor. But does the student (patient) become dependent on his leader and is everything that he tells him true? Undoubtedly, in psychoanalysis a similar phenomenon of dependence, interpreted as transference, exists and is capable of significantly influencing the patient. However, psychoanalysis strives to free the patient from such dependence on the analyst, identifying it and, if possible, eliminating it. The words of the mentor in Zen, as well as the analyst in psychoanalysis, are significant for the student (patient), because within the framework of Zen, the mentor has a priori greater knowledge than the student; the same state of affairs exists in psychoanalysis. As a result, the teacher’s word is always convincing for the student. The mentor never imposes his opinion on the student; the student came to him of his own free will and can also freely leave. The mentor is ready to accept a student who voluntarily comes to him and wants to go through the difficult path to enlightenment under his guidance. But only such a student who is aware that no matter how the mentor strives to help him, his fate is only in his own hands. No one can save a person’s soul; only he himself can find salvation. A mentor can only take on the role of a midwife or guide in the mountains. As one Zen master said, “I really can’t tell you anything. If I tried to do this, you would laugh at me. Everything I could say to you belongs only to me, and it could never become yours.”

Herrigel's book on the art of archery provides a vivid and illustrative analysis of the Zen master's approach. A Zen teacher is guided by the principle of establishing intelligent authority. He insists on his method of studying the art of archery, since he proceeds from the fact that he knows better than the student how it can be comprehended. At the same time, the mentor does not seek to impose his authority on the student, gain power over him, or make him constantly dependent on himself. He would only like the student to show him his progress from time to time; when he himself becomes a mentor, he will look for his own method in teaching. The mentor loves his student with a mature love, imbued with the spirit of a real perception of reality. He tries to help him, at the same time being fully aware that on the way to achieving the goal he is not able to do for the student what he must do himself. The love of a mentor for a student is devoid of any sentimentality; it is based on a realistic attitude towards human fate, on the awareness that no person is able to save another, but must do everything to help him save himself. Love that denies such a statement and claims to “save” the soul of another is in fact only a manifestation of arrogance and vanity.

Apparently, additional arguments will be unnecessary for the psychoanalyst to convince him that everything said about the teacher within the framework of Zen equally applies (or at least should apply) to himself. According to Freud, the analyst in his relationship with the patient is, as it were, his mirror image; his attitude towards him should be devoid of any personal coloring. This, in his opinion, should ensure the patient's independence from the analyst. However, analysts like Ferenczi, Sullivan, myself and a number of others regard cooperation between analyst and patient as a necessary condition for ensuring mutual understanding between them. We fully share the opinion that such cooperation excludes any sentimentality, distortion of reality and, most importantly, any, even the most cautious and indirect, intrusion of the analyst into the patient’s life, even if this could contribute to his cure. The analyst is always ready to help the patient and always supports his desire to overcome the disease and change his life. However, he cannot be held responsible for his failure if the patient’s resistance to life changes turns out to be insurmountable. The analyst's duty is to do everything in his power, to spare no effort and knowledge in order for the patient to achieve the goal he is striving for. This also reveals the closeness of the positions of psychoanalysis and Zen.

In Zen Buddhism, there is a teaching principle of putting a student in a difficult situation, called a koan. Being something like an obstacle that makes it impossible to escape, the koan does not allow the student to resort to traditional thinking in order to solve the problem assigned to him. In order not to go down the wrong path, forcing the patient to listen to explanations and instructions and thereby only preventing him from making the transition from comprehension to genuine experience, the analyst acts, or at least should act in some sense, in the same way. Any rationalistic justifications, i.e., everything that the patient relies on in his illusions, must be gradually eliminated by the analyst. In the end, the patient will lose all his arguments, thereby breaking free from the captivity of delusions, which will allow him to realize what he was not aware of before. In other words, he will begin to experience reality. An important role is played by the moral support of the patient, since the analyst often experiences anxiety, which could become an obstacle to achieving the goal. However, this support is limited only to the fact that the analyst is close to the patient, without trying to encourage him with words, so as not to prevent the patient from experiencing the experience available to him alone.

So, a comparison of Zen - Buddhism and psychoanalysis directly highlights some aspects of their similarity and identity. However, it can be recognized as valid if we find points of contact between the idea of ​​enlightenment, which is the main one in Zen, and overcoming repression, the transformation of the unconscious into the conscious, which are the basic principles of psychoanalysis.

Let us first summarize what has been said about psychoanalysis. Its goal is to transform the unconscious into the conscious. It must be borne in mind that the conscious and unconscious are functions, and not the content of the mental process. More precisely: we can only talk about one degree or another of repression, a state when a person is aware only of those experiences that managed to pass through the filter of language, logic and other criteria determined by the realities of a particular society. The most hidden depths of his nature are revealed to a person, and consequently, his human essence, freed from distortions at all levels of the filter. If a person completely overcomes repression, he thereby resolves the conflict between his consciousness and the unconscious. At the same time, overcoming self-alienation and isolation from the surrounding world in all its manifestations, he is able to experience unmediated experience. In addition, as already noted, the perception of the world depends on the degree of separation of his unconscious from his conscious; in other words, to what extent his “I” as an integral personality is separated from his “I” as a social personality. This manifests itself, on the one hand, in the form of paratactic distortions, or the transfer effect, when another individual is seen not as what he really is, but appears in the image of an important person who had an influence on him in childhood. This happens due to the fact that he is able to perceive another individual not as a complete person, but only through his “I” formed in childhood.

On the other hand, the consciousness of a person in a state of repression is false by nature. This is reflected in his experience of the world around him: instead of a really existing object, he sees only its image generated by his own illusions and ideas. This distorted idea of ​​something, this veil covering his vision is precisely the primary source of his anxiety and suffering. As a result, an individual in a state of repression experiences what is happening in his head instead of experiencing real people and objects. While he is confident that he is in contact with the real world, in reality he deals only with words. Phenomena such as paratactic distortion, false consciousness and cerebration are, apparently, although different, but still interconnected aspects of a person’s loss of reality, when the human essence of the individual is separated from the social individual, and cannot be considered as independent varieties their loss of contact with the real world. Based on the assertion that the individual in a state of repression is alienated by nature, we are simply looking at the same phenomenon from different points of view. An alienated person, directing his thoughts and feelings to one or another object, does not perceive himself as the subject of his experiences and is dependent on the object that determines his experience.

The complete opposite of this alienated, distorted, paratactic, illusory, “mental” experience is the direct, integral perception of reality, characteristic of an infant and a child who has not lost the ability to do so under the influence of upbringing. For a newborn there is still no separation between “I” and “not-I”. The process of such separation is gradual, and the child’s ability to say “I” indicates its completion. Nevertheless, the child’s perception of the world still remains fairly direct and undistorted. While playing with the ball, the child actually sees the ball rolling, he is completely absorbed in the experience of this spectacle. An adult is also confident that he sees the ball rolling. Undoubtedly, this is so: he actually observes how one object, i.e., the ball, rolls on another object, the floor. However, in reality he only thinks that the ball is rolling on the floor, without seeing it. By saying that the ball is rolling, an adult, in principle, only states that, firstly, he knows that a round object is called a ball, and secondly, that round objects lying on a flat surface can roll when touched. At the same time, what he sees with his eyes only confirms his knowledge and allows him to feel comfortable.

A person is able to regain the ability to experience the direct, spontaneous perception of reality characteristic of a child, reaching a state of “non-repression.” But such overcoming of repression, taking into account the path traversed by man in the evolution of the intellect and the process of alienation, implies the return of integrity to him at a new, higher level. It is possible to gain such integrity only by first losing it.

A similar idea finds vivid expression in the Old Testament legend of the Fall and the prophecy of the Messiah. According to biblical tradition, a person, being in the Garden of Eden, is an integral substance. Being an inseparable part of nature, he is devoid of consciousness, for him there are no concepts of difference, choice, freedom, sin. By making his first choice, a person first shows disobedience and thus emerges from an initially devoid of individuality; at the same time, he takes the first step on the path to freedom. Having accomplished it, he gains consciousness: now he is aware of himself, aware of his isolation from Eve as a woman, from nature, from animals and the earth. The consequence of awareness of this isolation is the appearance of shame in a person: the same shame that we experience to this day, feeling alienated from people close to us. By leaving paradise, he will thereby mark the beginning of human history. The original state of harmony is no longer available to him, but for him there is a new harmony to which he can strive, harmony expressed in the improvement of his mind, consciousness, and his acquisition of the ability to love, so that, as the prophecy says, “... the earth will be filled with the knowledge of God in the same way as like the ocean is filled with water.” The messianic concept predicts a transition from a harmony devoid of individuality and consciousness to a new harmony based on the triumph of a holistic and perfect mind. Its achievement will become possible with the coming of the Messiah and will be marked by the elimination of antagonism between man and nature, man and other man; the desert will become a blooming garden, the wolf and the lamb will coexist peacefully side by side, and swords will be beaten into plowshares. The advent of the era of the Messiah is, on the one hand, a time of paradise, and on the other, something opposite to it: a person who has forever left the world of childhood has reached the highest stage of his evolution and again becomes a child, which is expressed in the integrity of his nature and the immediacy of perception.

A similar idea can be seen in the New Testament: “Truly I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child will not enter into it” (Luke 18:17). This maxim needs no explanation: through getting rid of alienation, people must become children again and learn to perceive the world creatively. However, turning into children, people have nevertheless already reached maturity and are not children. It is precisely in this case that the experience mentioned in the New Testament becomes possible: “Now we see through a dark glass, darkly, but then face to face; Now I know in part, but then I will know, even as I am known” (Corinthians 13:12).

Overcoming repression and alienation from oneself and, as a consequence, from another individual means awareness of the unconscious, i.e. awakening, parting with illusions, delusions and false ideas and an adequate perception of reality. Awareness of the previously unconscious makes an internal revolution in a person. The basis of creative intellectual thinking and direct intuitive perception of reality is precisely the true awakening of a person. An individual who is in a state of alienation, when the real world is perceived by him only at the level of thinking, turns out to be capable of lying; being awakened and, therefore, oriented towards direct perception of reality, a person is not able to tell a lie: the power of his experience destroys the lie. Finally, the translation of the unconscious into the conscious means for a person to live guided by the truth. Being open to reality, he ceases to be alienated from it; without resisting her and at the same time not trying to impose anything on her, he reacts to reality in an adequate way.

The goal of Zen is to understand the world directly and completely. I will now try to outline more clearly the connection between the principles of psychoanalysis and Zen based on the reasoning of Dr. Suzuki.

First of all, I would like to draw attention to one terminological aspect of the issue under consideration, which, in my opinion, hinders the implementation of our analysis. We are talking about the use of the terms “conscious” and “unconscious” instead of functional terms that serve to designate the extent to which the individual as a whole person is aware of the experience of something. I have no doubt that by eliminating this terminological uncertainty, we will greatly facilitate the task of identifying the connection between the true meaning of the translation of the unconscious into the conscious and the concept of achieving enlightenment. “The Zen method is to penetrate directly into the object itself and see it from the inside as it really is.” Such direct comprehension of reality “can also be defined as actively volitional or creative.” Suzuki goes on to call this source of creativity “the unconscious in Zen,” adding: “One must be able to feel the unconscious, but not in the ordinary sense of the word, but, I would say, in its most primordial and fundamental meaning.” In this interpretation, the unconscious is considered as a certain area located both inside the personality and outside it. “The experience of the unconscious,” says Suzuki, “is... fundamental and primordial.”

In terms, I would prefer to abandon the concept of “experience of the unconscious.” Instead, in my opinion, we should talk about the individual’s awareness of the deep and immediate experiences he is experiencing, that is, about the weakening of such phenomena as paratactic distortion, projection of images and cerebration, which becomes possible due to a decrease in the degree of repression. A follower of Zen teaching is defined by Suzuki as being “in direct union with the great unconscious.” For my part, I would formulate this differently - as awareness of the inner reality and the reality of the surrounding world in all their clarity and completeness.

Further, Suzuki again resorts to functional terminology, saying that “in reality, it (the unconscious), on the contrary, represents something most intimate for us, and that is why it is so difficult to comprehend, just as the eye is not able to see itself . As a result, in order for the unconscious to become conscious, special training of consciousness is necessary.” In this case, Suzuki operates with concepts that fully correspond to the psychoanalytic concept: the task is to transform the unconscious into the conscious, for which consciousness requires special preparation. But does this mean that the whole difference between psychoanalysis and Zen comes down only to their own, different approaches to training the consciousness, while the goals pursued by these two systems are the same?

Before dwelling on this issue in more detail, it seems to me appropriate to consider a few more aspects that require clarification.

Dr. Suzuki's discussion touches on the idea of ​​knowledge versus integrity, the same issue I addressed when talking about psychoanalytic concepts. The biblical concept of the Fall as a result of acquiring knowledge in Zen and Buddhism in general corresponds to the concept of affective contamination, that is, contamination by passions (klesha) or the intervention of conscious thinking subordinate to the intellect. The term "intelligence" raises a very important issue. Is the activity of human intellect identical to consciousness? If it is identical, then the transition of the unconscious into the conscious would represent a process of intellectualization of the unconscious, which is fundamentally contrary to the tasks of Zen. In this case, the goals of psychoanalysis and Zen would be diametrically opposed, for Zen would set the task of developing the activity of the intellect, while the goal of psychoanalysis is precisely the liberation of man from his captivity.

It should be noted that Freud was initially a proponent of the concept of intelligence, considering it as the main goal of psychoanalysis. At that time, he believed that in order to cure a patient, the analyst only had to provide him with the necessary information.

While Freud himself never quite clearly expressed his understanding of the difference between intellect and spontaneous, holistic experience, many analysts today remain committed to the concept of intellect. But the goal of psychoanalysis is precisely to achieve insight that occurs not at the intellectual level, but as a result of cognition. As I have already noted, being aware of your breathing does not mean thinking about your breathing, and being aware of the movement of your hand does not mean thinking about it. On the contrary, if I think about my breathing or the movement of my hand, I am thereby no longer aware of them. This statement is also true in relation to my awareness of a flower or a person, the experience of joy, love or a state of peace. The peculiarity of genuine insight within the framework of psychoanalysis is that it defies description. However, many weak psychoanalytic theories try to formulate their understanding of insight that has nothing to do with direct experience by resorting to a bunch of theoretical concepts. The patient in psychoanalysis cannot be forced to experience genuine insight or somehow plan for it; it always comes suddenly. Using a Japanese metaphor, we can say that insight is born not in a person’s brain, but in his stomach. Trying to put it into words, we realize that we are unable to do so. Nevertheless, it is quite real, and the person who experiences it becomes completely different. A child is able to directly comprehend the world around him until his consciousness, perception and sense of reality complete the process of evolution and become a certain substance separate from it. Moreover, “the unconscious is instinctive; it is limited to the instincts characteristic of animals and children and is impossible in an adult.” As man evolves from the primitive unconscious to self-awareness, due to subject-object differentiation, the division of personality into universal and social, unconscious and consciousness, he begins to experience the world as something alienated. The conflict between the unconscious and consciousness can be resolved to the extent that the latter is able to become open and weaken the influence of the “triple filter” that dominates it. Complete resolution of this conflict, implying a renunciation of intellect and reflection, leads to the fact that a person can experience direct, unmediated, conscious experience. This active, volitional, creative vision of reality, knowledge, defined by Spinoza as intuition, is the highest form of knowledge; knowledge, which is based on an approach that, according to Suzuki, “is to penetrate directly into the object itself and see it from the inside as it really is.” This direct, non-reflexive perception of the world allows us to realize the forgotten ability inherent in each of us to create, to be an “artist of life.” “Every act of him (the artist) embodies his originality, his creativity, his direct individuality. He does not know conventions, conformism, forbidden impulses... He is not a slave to a petty and limited egocentric existence. He was able to escape from this prison."

A person who has reached “maturity,” who has managed to cleanse himself of “contamination with affects” and get rid of the influence of the intellect, has a “free and spontaneous life, where he will not be constrained by such feelings as fear, anxiety, and a sense of danger.” The liberation that Suzuki mentions in such a state correlates with the psychoanalytic concept of genuine insight, which is expected to have the same effect.

Now we need to return to the issue of terminology, on which I would not like to dwell for long, because its significance is not so great. As I have already noted, Suzuki is talking about the education of consciousness, but at the same time, in another place he also mentions “the education of the unconscious, which embodies all the conscious experiences of a person from the first years of his life, which constitute his essence.” Such coexistence of the expressions “educated consciousness” and “educated unconsciousness” may seem unlawful to some. However, it seems to me that there is really no contradiction here. To carry out the transformation of the unconscious into the conscious, to achieve a complete, unmediated experience, education of both the conscious and the unconscious is required. If the conscious must be freed from the conventions generated by the filter, then the unconscious must be learned to be controlled, calling it out of darkness and isolation. Of course, it is necessary to recognize that we are talking about the education of the conscious and unconscious in a figurative sense. The conscious, as well as the unconscious, do not exist as objects of education. The person himself needs education, who must clearly and consciously overcome repression, resorting to intellectual reflection only in case of real need, and learn to experience reality as fully as possible.

Suzuki defines this unconscious as cosmic. Of course, such an expression has a right to exist, given its clear definition by the author. However, it seems to me that the more appropriate term is “cosmic consciousness,” which Becky used to define the consciousness newly acquired by a person. This term, in my opinion, looks preferable, since the unconscious loses its status if it becomes conscious to one degree or another (at the same time, it does not become reflective intelligence). Only to the extent that a person is not aware of reality, to the extent to which he is alienated from his cosmic unconscious, does it become such for him. Everything about which a person was unconscious disappears as he awakens and comes into contact with reality. It should also be noted that we prefer the term “conscious” to “cosmic unconscious” in order to focus attention primarily on the function of awareness rather than on its location within the individual’s personality.

What do we arrive at in our correlation of Zen - Buddhism and psychoanalysis?

The goal of Zen is to achieve enlightenment, that is, a state in which there is a direct, non-reflexive comprehension of reality, free from affective contamination and intellectualization. This state embodies the individual’s relationship to the universe. A person, like a child, again comprehends the world directly, without involving the intellect in this process. However, this happens on a qualitatively different level. The difference is that the formed individuality of a person is based on a mind that has completed evolution and a developed sense of reality. If a child’s experience, being immediate and holistic in nature, is not lost until the moment of subject-object differentiation and the individual’s feeling of his own alienation, then enlightenment is achieved by him after he experiences this.

According to Freud, the goal of psychoanalysis is to transform the unconscious into the conscious, or, in other words, to enable the “I” to take the place of the “it.” Postulating the task of awareness of the unconscious, he determines the content of the latter according to the instinctive impulses of early childhood, which a person forgets in more mature age. The purpose of analysis is precisely to overcome the repression of such instinctive impulses, which subsequently, regardless of Freud’s theoretical premises, was reflected in the therapeutic practice of curing a particular symptom. Identifying the unconscious outside the specific situation of symptom occurrence no longer seemed so important. However, the concepts of drives (thanatos and eros) developed in recent years and the deepening understanding of the human “I” have expanded the Freudian content of the unconscious. The area of ​​the unconscious, subject to transformation into the conscious, has expanded significantly thanks to the developments of non-Freudian schools. Particular credit for this belongs to Jung, as well as Adler, Rank and other authors who have recently come to be called neo-Freudians. However, the scope of the sphere requiring the identification of the unconscious, despite such a significant expansion, is still considered (with the exception of Jung) only as a therapeutic task of curing any symptom, any abnormality in a person’s character. The area of ​​the unconscious does not cover the entire personality of an individual.

However, while strictly adhering to Freud's original idea of ​​the transformation of the unconscious into the conscious, one should not be limited to focusing on instincts and the task of treating symptoms. The process of complete transformation of the unconscious into the conscious requires the study of the entire human experience and cannot be reduced only to instincts or any other experiences. There is a need for a person to overcome alienation and subject-object differentiation in the perception of the surrounding world. In this case, the process of transformation of the unconscious comes down to overcoming affective pollution and cerebration, getting rid of repression, overcoming the internal division into the universal and social individual, eliminating the antagonism between the conscious and the unconscious. A person must become capable of directly, without distortions caused by social reflection, experiencing reality, overcoming egocentrism, getting rid of the illusions of invulnerability and isolation of his “I”, striving for self-aggrandizement and self-preservation, like the Egyptian pharaohs, who hoped to immortalize themselves by turning into mummies. He who has become aware of the unconscious is open and responsive; he does not have, but exists.

There is no doubt that the idea of ​​a complete transformation of the unconscious into the conscious is much more radical in comparison with the general task of psychoanalysis. The reasons for this are not difficult to understand. Most people in the Western world are not prepared to go through the effort required to fully uncover the unconscious. Such a radical goal can only be accepted by those who adhere to a certain philosophical position. There is no point in describing it in detail. It is only worth noting that this position is formulated not in a negative aspect as ensuring the absence of illness, but in a positive aspect: achieving absolute harmony, directness and clarity of comprehension of the world, i.e. well-being.

It is impossible to describe this goal more precisely than Dr. Suzuki did, who defined it as “the art of living.” This concept, like others like it, is determined by the spiritual humanistic orientation of the teachings of Buddha, prophets, Jesus Christ, Meister Eckhart and such personalities as Blake, Walt Whitman, Becky. By considering the concept of “the art of living” outside this context, we thereby deprive it of its specificity and identify it with what is commonly called “happiness” these days. The humanistic orientation of these teachings presupposes the presence of basic ethical principles, including in Zen Buddhism. As Suzuki clearly showed, Zen sets a person the task of suppressing the desire for acquisitiveness, the thirst for fame or narcissism, in other words, to overcome any manifestations of greed. Zen implies a person's renunciation of narcissistic self-praise and the illusory idea of ​​one's own omnipotence; on the other hand, a person must get rid of the desire to obey the authorities that solve the problems of his existence for him. Of course, such a radical goal is not a guideline for a person who wants to get rid of his disease by identifying the unconscious.

However, it would be a mistake to assume that such a radical goal of overcoming repression has no connection with the therapeutic task. Analysis and change in the patient’s character are a necessary condition for getting rid of existing symptoms and preventing the formation of new ones. It is also obvious that without a holistic modification of the personality (i.e., a more radical goal), correction of any feature of a neurotic nature is impossible. Perhaps the fact that the goals set in the treatment of a neurotic character are essentially not radical enough is the reason for the rather modest results of treatment (as most clearly expressed by Freud in his work “Analysis: Temporary or Permanent?”). Perhaps, a person’s achievement of well-being, ridding him of anxiety and a sense of danger, is only possible by setting more global goals. It is worth recognizing that the solution of a limited therapeutic task is impossible until this task is considered as a broader goal, humanistic in nature. Although it is possible that the implementation of a local goal requires more limited and less labor-intensive methods than achieving a radical goal - “transformation”, which justifies the significant investment of time and effort required for long-term analysis. This assumption is confirmed by the expressed idea that the most that a person who has not reached the creative state - the culmination of satori - is capable of is to replace his innate predisposition to depression with routine, idolatry, the desire for destruction, acquisitiveness, pride, etc.

If any of these compensation mechanisms stops functioning, health risks arise. But it is enough for a person to change his attitude towards the world, gaining through the resolution of internal conflict and overcoming alienation the ability to be responsive, to perceive reality directly and creatively, in order to get rid of a possible disease. If psychoanalysis can help a person with this, it will help him achieve true mental health. Otherwise, it will only become the basis for improving compensation mechanisms. In other words, a person can be “cured” of a symptom, whereas it is impossible to “cure” him of a neurotic character. By treating the patient as an inanimate object, the analyst is unable to heal him, for the person is neither a thing nor a “case history.” Being connected with the patient by a situation of mutual understanding and unity with him, the analyst can only contribute to his awakening.

But our reasoning may not encounter objections? Is it worth talking about such a radical task as the transformation of the unconscious into the conscious in a practical aspect, if, as I noted, its implementation is as difficult as achieving enlightenment? Wouldn't it be purely speculative to think that the hopes placed in psychoanalytic therapy can be justified only if a radical goal is achieved?

This objection would be appropriate if there were no other choice: either achieving complete enlightenment or nothing. However, it is not. In Zen there are many stages of enlightenment, the highest and defining of which is satori. However, in my understanding, even if a person never achieves satori, any experience that is at least to some extent a step in this direction is in itself valuable. Dr. Suzuki once illustrated this aspect this way: if you light one candle while in a completely dark room, the darkness will disappear and it will become lighter. If you add ten, a hundred or a thousand candles to it, then each time the room will become brighter and brighter. However, the fundamental change was made by the first candle, which destroyed the darkness.

What happens during the analytical process? A person who ascribed to himself such qualities as modesty, courage and love, for the first time in his life feels pride, cowardice and hatred within himself.

This insight may cause pain, but it opens his eyes, which makes him able to not endow others with the qualities that he seeks to suppress in himself. Then he continues his path, feeling first as a baby, a child, an adult, a criminal, a madman, a saint, an artist, a man or a woman; he penetrates deeper and deeper into his own human beginning, into the universal essence; he has to suppress less and less experiences in himself, he becomes liberated, needing transference and cerebration to a less and less extent. Then, for the first time, he has access to the experience of seeing light or a rolling ball, or hearing music, being imbued with it. Little by little he realizes the falsity of the idea of ​​​​the independence of his own “I”, which he previously considered as a certain object requiring protection, care and salvation; this becomes possible due to the fact that he begins to feel his unity with other individuals. He will understand that it is useless to look for the answer to the main question asked by life in possession, while he should become and be himself. By their nature, these experiences are always spontaneous and unexpected; they have no intellectual content. However, having experienced them, a person feels with a hitherto unknown strength a feeling of liberation, personal strength and peace.

Returning to the conversation about goals, I repeat that Freud’s idea of ​​the transformation of the unconscious into the conscious, elevated to an absolute, becomes consonant with the concept of enlightenment. The differences between psychoanalysis and Zen become most obvious when we consider the methods of achieving their goals. We can say that the Zen method comes down to the fact that the student gets rid of alienation in his perception of reality through the session, koans and the authority of the mentor. Of course, the mentioned method cannot be considered only as a set of technical techniques; it is inextricably linked both with Buddhist philosophy and with the system of ethical values ​​expressed in the behavior of the mentor and felt in the very atmosphere of the monastery. It is also necessary to understand that Zen is not a “four-hour-a-week” activity, and the student who turns to Zen is thereby making a responsible decision, which is the most important factor in his subsequent training.

The method of psychoanalysis is fundamentally different from that adopted in Zen. It lies in the fact that the patient’s attention is focused on his distorted perception, he is pushed to discover his own delusions, his experience is enriched by discovering what is repressed; thus, his consciousness prepares to comprehend the unconscious. The analytical method is essentially experimental-psychological. By studying the mental evolution of a person from the first years of his life, the analyst tries to identify the experiences the patient experienced in early childhood and thereby determine the causes of repression. A person parts with the delusions generated by his intellect that underlie his alienation. This becomes possible thanks to the gradual discovery of the illusory nature of his ideas about reality. At the same time, a person overcomes both alienation from himself and from what surrounds him. He establishes contact with his inner world, as a result of which he gains connection with the outer world. False consciousness disappears, and with it the antagonism between the conscious and the unconscious. A new sense of reality appears, in which “the mountains become mountains again.” Undoubtedly, psychoanalysis is just a method, a preparation, but the same applies to the Zen method. Even this circumstance speaks in favor of the fact that the successful implementation of the task of psychoanalysis cannot be guaranteed. Deep and unknown to us, despite all our practical efforts, aspects of the human personality can stand in the way of achieving this task.

I expressed the idea that the method of identifying the unconscious, taken to its logical conclusion, can bring a person closer to the state of enlightenment, expressed in the philosophical context of Zen in the most radical and realistic way. However, we will be able to judge the capabilities of this method only after gaining significant experience in its practical application. The idea I have expressed is a hypothesis that requires testing, since it assumes only the very possibility of achieving the mentioned effect.

In any case, it is much more certain that the study of Zen and the interest shown in it can influence the theory and practice of psychoanalysis in an extremely fruitful and beneficial way, capable of clarifying many of its aspects. To whatever extent the Zen method differs from the method of psychoanalysis, it is capable of drawing attention to the phenomenon of insight and clarifying the essence of this phenomenon; force us to rethink concepts such as vision, creativity, overcoming affective pollution and false messages generated by the intellect. The characteristic radicalism of Zen regarding the process of intellectualization, submission to authority, exaltation of one’s own “I,” as well as its persistent desire for harmony can deepen and broaden the psychoanalyst’s horizons, pushing him towards the idea of ​​a full and conscious comprehension of reality. The comparison of Zen and psychoanalysis leads us to the idea that psychoanalysis can also be of great importance for the student of Zen. In my opinion, psychoanalysis could help him not to fall into delusion about the falsity of enlightenment if it is based only on subjective sensations and is caused by some psychopathic or hysterical phenomena, or is in fact a self-initiated trance. Overcoming illusions in the Zen student is a necessary condition for achieving enlightenment and can be achieved through the clarity brought by the analytical approach.

However, no matter how great the importance of Zen for psychoanalysis, I, being a Western psychoanalyst, am extremely grateful for this storehouse of Eastern wisdom, first of all to Dr. Suzuki, who managed to express Zen in a way accessible to Western thinking and without omitting any of its essential aspects ; thanks to this, a Western person, with a certain diligence, is able to comprehend this teaching to the extent that it can, in principle, be accessible to him. Based on the fact that “the Buddha is in each of us,” that man and his being are universal categories, while direct comprehension of reality, awakening and enlightenment are universal experiences, such an understanding of Zen by Western man is quite possible.

Zen - Buddhism and psychoanalysis

Introduction

Principles of Zen - Buddhism

In a brief overview of Freudian psychoanalysis and its development within the framework of humanistic psychoanalysis, I touched upon the problem of human existence and the importance of the existential question. The well-being of a person was considered as overcoming alienation and isolation, while the peculiarity of the psychoanalytic approach lies in penetrating into the human unconscious. In addition, I talked about the nature of the unconscious and the conscious and the meaning that psychoanalysis attaches to the concepts of “know” and “be aware”. Finally, I talked about the importance of the role of the analyst in psychoanalysis.

One might assume that a systematic description of Zen Buddhism would be the primary condition for its comparison with the psychoanalytic method, but I will only touch on those aspects of it that have direct points of contact with psychoanalysis.

The main goal of Zen is to achieve enlightenment, or satori. A person can never fully understand Zen unless he has had this experience. Since I myself have not experienced satori, I am not able to talk about Zen on the level that is implied by the completeness of this experience, but can only speak about it in the most general terms. At the same time, since satori “represents an art and method of enlightenment almost incomprehensible to the European consciousness,” I will not consider Zen from the position of C. G. Jung. At least Zen is no more complex for a European than Heraclitus, Meister Eckhart or Heidegger. The enormous effort required to achieve satori is the main obstacle to understanding Zen. Most people are not capable of making such an effort, so even in Japan satori is very rare. However, despite the fact that I am not able to speak competently about Zen, I have a rough idea of ​​it, which became possible thanks to reading Dr. Suzuki’s books, attending several of his lectures, and generally becoming familiar with Zen Buddhism from all the sources available to me. I assume that I will be able to make a preliminary comparison of Zen - Buddhism and psychoanalysis.

What is the main goal of Zen? Suzuki says the following in this regard: “Zen by its nature is the art of immersion in the essence of human existence, it shows the path leading from slavery to freedom... It can be said that Zen releases the natural energy inherent in us by nature, which in ordinary life is suppressed and is distorted to such an extent that it is not able to be realized adequately... Therefore, the goal of Zen is to prevent a person from losing his mind and becoming ugly. By human freedom I understand the possibility of realizing all the creative and noble impulses inherent in his heart. Usually we are blind in our ignorance that we are endowed with all the necessary qualities that can make us happy and teach us to love.”

I would like to focus on some important aspects of Zen that follow from this definition: Zen is the art of immersion in the essence of human existence; this is the path leading from slavery to freedom; Zen releases the natural energy of man; it protects a person from madness and self-deformation; it encourages a person to realize his abilities to love and be happy.

The main goal of Zen is the experience of enlightenment - satori. This process is described in detail in the works of Dr. Suzuki. Here I would like to dwell on some aspects of this issue that are especially important for Westerners, and primarily psychologists. Satori is not by its nature a mental abnormality. It is not characterized by a loss of sense of reality, as occurs in a trance state. At the same time, satori does not represent the narcissistic state of mind that is a characteristic manifestation of some religious teachings. “If you like, this is an absolutely normal state of mind...” According to Yoshu, “Zen is your everyday thinking.” “Which way a door opens depends on the location of its hinges.” The experiencer of satori experiences the special effects of the state of enlightenment. “The whole process of our thinking will begin to flow completely differently, which will allow us to experience greater satisfaction, greater peace, greater joy than it was before. The very atmosphere of existence will undergo changes. Zen also has rejuvenating properties. The spring flower will become even more beautiful, and the mountain waterfall will become cool and clear.”

As is clear from the above excerpt from Dr. Suzuki's work, satori is the true embodiment of human well-being. Using psychological terminology, enlightenment can be defined, in my opinion, as a state that is fully realized and understood by the individual, his complete orientation towards reality, both internal and external. This state is recognized not by the human brain or any other part of his body, but by the individual himself in his entirety. He is aware of it not as something mediated by his thinking, but as an absolute reality: a flower, a dog, another person. Waking up, a person becomes open and responsive to the world around him. This becomes possible due to the fact that he ceases to consider himself as a thing. Enlightenment implies the “complete awakening” of the whole personality, its movement towards reality.

It must be clearly understood that neither a trance, in which a person is convinced that he is awake while he is sound asleep, nor any destruction of a person’s personality has anything to do with the state of enlightenment. Apparently, for a representative of the Western school of psychology, satori will look like a subjective state, like some kind of trance state independently induced by a person; with all his sympathy for Zen Buddhism, even Dr. Jung did not escape such a misconception: “Due to the fact that the imagination itself is a mental phenomenon, it makes absolutely no difference whether we define enlightenment as “real” or “imaginary.” " Be that as it may, a person, being "enlightened", believes that he is so, regardless of whether this corresponds to reality, or he only claims it... Even if he were insincere in his words, his lie would be spiritualized." Of course, such a statement is only a fragment of Jung's general relativistic concept, which determines his understanding of the “authenticity” of religious experience. For my part, I cannot under any circumstances consider lying as something “spiritual”; to me it is nothing but a lie. In any case, Zen Buddhists are not proponents of this Jungian concept, which has some merit. On the contrary, it is extremely important for them to distinguish the real and, therefore, true change in human worldview as a result of a genuine experience of satori from an imaginary experience, possibly due to psychopathological factors, in which the Zen student assumes that he has achieved satori, while his teacher is sure of the opposite. One of the main tasks of a teacher is to ensure that the Zen student does not substitute false enlightenment for real enlightenment.

In psychological terms, we can say that complete awakening is the achievement of a “productive orientation,” which implies a creative and active, like Spinoza’s, perception of the world, and not a passive, consumer, accumulative and sharing attitude towards it. The internal conflict that causes the alienation of one’s own “I” from the “not-I” is resolved when a person reaches a state of creative productivity. Any object under consideration no longer exists in isolation from a person. The rose he sees represents the object of his thought precisely as a rose, and not in the sense that, by saying that he sees it, he only asserts that this object is identical to the definition of a rose for him. A person in a state of complete productivity becomes at the same time highly objective: his greed or fear no longer distorts the objects he sees, that is, he sees them as they really are, and not as they are. he would like to see them. Such perception eliminates the possibility of paratactic distortions. The human “I” is activated, and a merging of subjective and objective perception occurs. The active process of experiencing occurs in the person himself, while the object remains unchanged. The human “I” animates the object, and is itself animate through it. Only someone who is not aware of the extent to which his vision of the world is mental or parataxic in nature can consider satori as a kind of mystical act. A person who has realized this comes to another realization, which can be defined as absolutely real. To understand what we are talking about, just a fleeting experience of this sensation is enough. A boy learning to play the piano cannot compete in skill with the great maestro. However, the maestro’s game does not contain anything supernatural, representing a set of the same elementary skills that a boy learns; the only difference is that these skills are honed by the maestro to perfection.

Two Zen Buddhist parables clearly demonstrate how important an undistorted and non-intellectual perception of reality is to the Zen concept. One of them tells of a conversation between a mentor and a monk:

“Are you trying to establish yourself in the truth?

How do you educate yourself?

I eat when I'm hungry and sleep when I'm tired.

But everyone does this. It turns out that they educate themselves the same way as you?

Because while eating they are not busy eating, but allow themselves to be distracted by extraneous things; when they sleep, they do not sleep at all, but see a thousand and one dreams. This is what makes them different from me.”

There is probably no need to comment on this parable in any way. Seized by greed, fear and self-doubt, the average person, not always realizing it himself, constantly lives in a world of illusions. The world around him in his eyes acquires properties that exist only in his imagination. This state of affairs was as relevant for the era to which the above parable refers as for our days: and today almost everyone only believes that he sees, tastes or feels something, rather than actually experiencing such experiences.

Another equally revealing statement was written by a Zen teacher: “Until the time I began to study Zen, rivers were rivers to me and mountains were mountains. After I received my first knowledge of Zen, rivers ceased to be rivers and mountains ceased to be mountains. Now that I have comprehended the teaching, the rivers again became rivers for me, and the mountains became mountains.” And in this case, we become witnesses to the fact that reality begins to be perceived in a new way. As a rule, a person is mistaken when he takes the shadows of things for their true essence, as happens in Plato’s cave. Having realized that he was wrong, he still only has the knowledge that the shadows of things are not their essence. Leaving the cave and emerging from the darkness into the light, he awakens and now sees not shadows, but the true essence of things. Being in darkness, he is unable to comprehend the light. The New Testament (John 1:5) says: “And the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness does not comprehend it.” But as soon as he emerges from the darkness, the difference between the world of shadows in which he lived before and reality immediately opens before him.

Understanding human nature is one of the primary tasks of Zen, which guides a person to self-knowledge. However, we are not talking here about the category of “scientific” knowledge inherent in modern psychology, not about the knowledge of a cognizing intellectual person who views himself as an object. In Zen, however, this knowledge is non-intellectual and unmediated; it is a deep experience in which the knower and the known become one. Suzuki formulated this idea as follows: “The main task of Zen is to penetrate as naturally and directly as possible into the deepest aspects of human existence.”

The intellect is not capable of giving a comprehensive answer to an existential question. Achieving enlightenment becomes possible provided that the individual renounces many misconceptions generated by his mind that impede the true vision of the world. “Zen requires complete freedom of mind. Even one thought becomes an obstacle and a trap on the path to true freedom of the soul.” It follows from this that the concept of sympathy or empathy postulated by Western psychology is unacceptable according to Zen Buddhist teachings. “The concept of sympathy, or empathy, is the intellectual embodiment of a primal experience. If we talk about the experience itself, it does not allow any division. At the same time, in its desire to comprehend the experience, to subject it to logical analysis, which involves discrimination, or bifurcation, the mind thereby harms itself and destroys the experience. At the same time, the true sense of identity disappears, which allows the intellect to carry out its inherent destruction of reality. The phenomenon of sympathy or empathy, which is the result of the process of intellectualization, may be more characteristic of a philosopher who is incapable of experiencing genuine experience.”

However, the spontaneity of experience can be limited not only by the intellect as such, but also by an idea or an individual. In this regard, Zen “does not attach much importance to the sacred sutras, nor to their interpretation by sages and scholars. Individual experience conflicts with the opinion of authority and objective definitions.” Within the framework of Zen, a person must be free even from God, from Buddha, as expressed in the Zen saying: “Having said the word “Buddha,” wash your lips.”

The development of logical thinking is not the task of Zen, which distinguishes it from the Western tradition. Zen "poses a dilemma for man, which he must be able to resolve at a higher level of thinking than that of logic."

As a consequence, the concept of a mentor in Zen Buddhism does not correspond to its Western counterpart. In the Zen understanding, the benefit brought to the student by a mentor consists only in the fact that the latter exists in principle: in general, for Zen, a mentor is such only to the extent that he is able to exercise control over his own mental activity. “What can you do - until the student is ready to comprehend anything, he cannot help him in any way. The highest reality is comprehended only independently.”

The modern Western reader, accustomed to choosing between meek submission to an authority that suppresses him and limits his freedom and a complete denial of it, finds himself puzzled by the attitude of the Zen master to the student. Within Zen we are talking about a different, “reasonable authority.” The student does everything only of his own free will, without experiencing any coercion from the mentor. The mentor does not demand anything from him. The student is guided by his own desire to learn from his mentor, because he wants to receive from him knowledge that he himself does not yet possess. The teacher “has no need to explain anything with words; for him there is no concept of sacred teaching. Before anything is affirmed or denied, everything is weighed. There is no need to remain silent or idle talk.” The Zen teacher completely excludes any imposition of his authority on the student and at the same time persistently strives to win from him true authority based on real experience.

It must be borne in mind that the true achievement of enlightenment is inextricably linked with the transformation of human character; one who is not aware of this will not be able to understand Zen at all. This reveals the Buddhist origin of Zen, since salvation within Buddhism implies the need for a change in human character. A person must free himself from the passion of possession, must tame his greed, pride and arrogance. He must be grateful to the past, be a hard worker in the present and look to the future with a sense of responsibility. Living according to Zen principles means “treating yourself and the world around you with gratitude and reverence.” For Zen, this position in life, which underlies the “hidden virtue,” is very characteristic. Its meaning is that a person should not waste the powers given by nature, but live a full life, both in an ordinary, mundane sense, and in a moral sense.

Zen sets before man the goal of liberation from slavery and gaining freedom, achieving “absolute invulnerability and courage” in an ethical sense. “Zen is based on a person's character, not on his intellect. Consequently, the main postulate of life for him is human will.”

Zen - Buddhism and psychoanalysis

Introduction

The pursuit of human well-being through the study of his nature - this common feature inherent in both Zen Buddhism and psychoanalysis - is most often mentioned when comparing these systems, reflecting the characteristics of Western and Eastern mentality. Zen Buddhism combines Indian irrationality with Chinese concreteness and realism. Psychoanalysis, based on Western humanism and rationalism, on the one hand, and the romantic search for mysterious forces beyond rational comprehension, characteristic of the 19th century, on the other, is a phenomenon exclusively of the Western world. We can say that this scientific and therapeutic method of studying man is the fruit of Greek wisdom and Jewish ethics.

The study of human nature in theory and human reincarnation in practice is perhaps one of the few features that unites psychoanalysis and Zen Buddhism. There are obviously more differences. First, psychoanalysis is a scientific method that has nothing to do with religion. Zen, from the perspective of Western culture, with its theory and method of “enlightening” a person, looks like a religious, or mystical, teaching. Psychoanalysis is a therapy for mental illness, and Zen is the path to salvation of the soul. So, comparing psychoanalysis and Zen Buddhism, don’t we come to the conclusion that fundamentally they have nothing in common, but, on the contrary, are fundamentally different from each other?

Despite this, Zen Buddhism is attracting increasing interest from psychoanalysts. What is the reason for this interest and what is its meaning? The purpose of this article is to answer these questions. Of course, a fundamental description of Zen - Buddhist thinking - will not be presented here - my knowledge and experience are not enough for this. At the same time, in this article I do not set out to give a complete picture of psychoanalysis. However, in the first part of my work I will dwell in more detail on those aspects of psychoanalysis that I called “humanistic psychoanalysis” and which are one of the continuations of Freudian psychoanalysis. In this way I will try to explain why the encounter with Zen Buddhism has become so important both for me and, in my opinion, for everyone who deals with psychoanalysis.

Hello, dear readers! This article will examine the basics of such a widespread Eastern teaching as Zen Buddhism. This is an independent religion, the purpose of which is to comprehend the nature of the mind and wisdom. We will look at its basic principles and how in practice you can comprehend the truth using this ancient knowledge.

Zen originated in China at the dawn of the 6th century. However, only after reaching Japan did the teaching become widespread. This happened only in VII-VIII. The main founder of this direction is considered to be Bodhidharma, who also personifies Buddhist wisdom.

The main formula for understanding the nature of the mind is meditation, which allows you to achieve a completely new level of self-awareness and enlightenment.

Briefly about the teaching

Zen Buddhism is a symbiosis of Chinese and Indian beliefs, multiplied by the Japanese tradition. It contains the following elements:

• Jingtu (Pure Land Buddhism);
• Madhyamakas and Mahasanghikas;
• Tendai, Shingon and Kegon (Japanese teachings).

Despite the mixture of styles and different schools, Bodhidharma's teaching has its own differences. This religious movement is characterized by a “light” attitude towards sacred texts. Constant practice comes first, which is why it is so popular, unlike other beliefs.

Daisetsu Teitaro Suzuki (10/18/1870-07/12/1966). Japanese philosopher and chief popularizer of Zen Buddhism

“Satori is the soul of Zen and without it nothing exists.” (D.T. Suzuki)

The central essence of the teaching is the comprehension of satori. It is characterized by the following features:

• irrationality, inexplicability;
• intuitive feeling of nature around;
• a feeling of delight, euphoria as a consequence of the realization of something elusive;
• brevity and suddenness.

Principles

Zen Buddhism cannot be subsumed under any formality. This is the path of liberation, but not philosophy, psychology or science. Zen manifests itself in everything that surrounds a person. This makes it similar to Taoism, yoga and some other eastern knowledge.

The basic principles of Zen Buddhism can be formulated as follows:

1. Becoming a "Buddha" through contemplation of one's nature.
2. Human consciousness is the pinnacle of everything.
3. Unacceptability of sacred texts, their special interpretation.
4. Refusal of words and texts used as a knowledge base.

These four ideas describe the philosophy of religion in the world tradition and clearly limit the teachings from other areas of Buddhism.

First principle

This position involves contemplating one’s own nature in order to achieve a special level of consciousness. Based on the sacred texts, a person who practices this principle does not strive to become a Buddha, since this is not the ultimate goal of the teaching.

However, Buddha is not perceived by the higher mind, like the Lord or Allah, he does not stand above man, he is “scattered throughout the world.” A piece of it is found in every living person, plant, animal and any surrounding object.

Zen Buddhism calls for seeing nature with an “open mind”, perceiving oneself and the surrounding space as part of a great whole organism. The main goal is achievement satori, as a special state of mind, through meditation.

Second principle

Inner harmony and a calm state of mind are constant individual work on your mind. Zen teaches that each person has his own path of salvation and his own road, through which one can achieve enlightened consciousness.

Getting rid of internal conflicts and contradictions, the follower gradually acquires the gift of distinguishing “wheat from chaff” and stops worrying about little things, lives more consciously, contemplating the world around and within himself.

Third principle

Texts and books are used only at the first stage of a follower's training. They help to learn the main intellectual points of Buddhist philosophy. Further in-depth study of specialized literature, according to teachers, on the contrary, will prevent the student from comprehending knowledge.

Fourth principle

Zen is a branch. It is highly practical, which is why communication between student and teacher is so important. The concept claims to be connected with Buddhism, however, its followers do not study the sutras and shastras, considering them nothing more than unnecessary papers.

True consciousness is achieved through the "direct transmission of dharma" from teacher to student and is the highest manifestation of the "patriarchal chan" (lineage). It is very important that Zen does not practice withdrawal from the world, but helps to live and interact with others.

Practical use

Spiritual experience and growth in Zen Buddhism is not tied to the study of specialized literature. Practice in this religion is the basis of all changes in human consciousness. This is why Zen is so popular all over the world, because in order to become a follower of this teaching, the country of residence, political views and social status are not important.

The teaching can be practiced by both lawyers and lawyers from the United States, as well as poor fishermen in Vietnam. And each of them has every chance to achieve enlightenment and harmony.

As psychological training, teachers often offer followers stories from the lives of famous patriarchs (koans). Their goal is to question the rationality of thinking, thereby making the mind more flexible.

Meditation- a leading practice in Zen Buddhism, a true symbol of liberation. These classes help solve the following problems:

1. Get rid of anger and hatred. A person learns not to do bad things by succumbing to negative emotions. Meditation allows you to eradicate the source of evil within yourself and remain calm in any situation.
2. . The purpose of practical exercises is to come to terms with the current state of affairs and accept all the circumstances that happen to a person. This approach allows you to more competently “work out” your karma.
3. Refusal of excess. Most surrounding things, objects, people, based on the concept of Zen Buddhism, certainly bring suffering, so the goal of every follower of the teaching is to achieve independence from all this.
4. Harmony with your Tao. The path that is destined for a person by a higher power is perceived by the student in Zen Buddhism as inevitable. It is part of spiritual growth and its rejection will make it much more difficult to achieve satori.

Daily practice, carried out under the unobtrusive guidance of a teacher, as well as the lack of emphasis on studying special literature, allows Zen Buddhism to confidently walk around the globe.

Zen Buddhism in the Modern World

The increased interest of the West in Japanese culture after the Second World War opened up the mysterious and alluring world of the East for Americans and Europeans. The influence of this religion can be traced in the film industry, music, sculpture and art.

The world community, devastated by wars and the rapid development of technology, sought to find an island of freedom and serenity. This is what Zen Buddhism teaches. Westerners are also attracted to quick results enlightenment, the absence of grueling training and many years of studying special literature.

Conclusion

Zen Buddhism is not a religion in the classical sense of the word. This is spontaneity, naturalness and harmony, which is achieved by working with one’s own consciousness. A look inside oneself is what modern man so lacks in order to stop the senseless race for things and realize the true value of the world around him.

If the information in the article, dear readers, seemed interesting to you, share it on social networks. Zen Buddhism is multifaceted and everyone can find themselves by following this knowledge.

Zen (from Japanese 禅; Sanskrit ध्यान dhyana, Chinese 禪 chan, Korean 선 sŏn) is one of the largest and most widespread schools of Buddhism in China, Japan and other countries of East Asia. The word "Zen" comes from the Sanskrit-Pali term "dhyana/jnana", meaning deep concentration, contemplation, as well as detachment or release. In early texts Zen is called a school of contemplation.

Zen is a development of Mahayana Buddhism. The scientific name for this path is "Buddha's Heart" ("Buddha Hridaya"), and the more popular name is "Zen".

Today, Zen is one of the most famous schools of Buddhism, widely covered both in fiction and in the mass media.

Zen Buddhism was brought from India to China by Bodhidharma, after which it became widespread in the countries of East Asia (China, Vietnam, Korea, Japan). The traditions of Chinese Chan, Japanese Zen, Vietnamese Thien and Korean Son developed largely independently and now, while maintaining a single essence, have acquired their own characteristic features in teaching and style of practice. The scientific (official) name of the Zen tradition is the Heart of the Buddha (Buddha-hrdaya). In Japan, Zen is represented by several schools: Rinzai, Obaku, Fuke and Soto.

Story

The transmission of the Zen tradition goes back to Shakyamuni Buddha, and he is considered the first in the Zen lineage. The second is considered to be Mahakashyapa, to whom the Buddha transmitted the state of awakening directly without words, thereby founding the Zen tradition in the form of direct transmission of teachings “from heart to heart.”

One day Buddha stood before a crowd of people on Vulture Peak. All the people were waiting for him to start teaching the dharma, but the Buddha was silent. Quite a long time had passed, and he had not yet uttered a single word; he had a flower in his hand. The eyes of all the people in the crowd were turned to him, but no one understood anything. Then one monk looked at Buddha with shining eyes and smiled. And the Buddha said: “I have the treasure of the vision of perfect Dharma, the magical spirit of nirvana, free from the impurity of reality, and I have transmitted this treasure to Mahakashyap.” This smiling monk turned out to be Mahakasyapa, one of the Buddha’s great disciples. (...) Mahakashyapa awakened thanks to the flower and his deep perception. Thich Nhat Hanh

Zen Buddhism spread to China in the 5th century AD. e. Zen teachings brought to China Buddhist monk Bodhidharma (in the Chinese tradition - Putidamo or simply Damo, in the Japanese - Daruma), often called the successor of the 27 Indian patriarchs of Buddhism, who later became the first Chan patriarch in China. Bodhidharma settled in the Shaolin Monastery, considered today the cradle of Chinese Chan Buddhism.

After Bodhidharma, there were five more patriarchs in China, after whom the teaching split into northern and southern schools. The second subsequently developed and transformed into five schools of Zen, of which only two have survived at present: Caodong and Linji. Regarding Vietnamese Thien, at the end of the 6th century, Vinitaruchi, a student of Seng-tsang, arrived in Vietnam and founded the first Thien school. The further development of Vietnamese Thien is associated with the school of Vo Ngon Thong, a former student of Huai-hai, and the school of Thao Dyung. The latter school was founded by Emperor Ly Thanh Tong. A little earlier, in 968, Thien became the state ideology of Vietnam and subsequently played an important role in its history. Later, the Chuk Lam school, founded by Emperor Tran Nian-tong and which had no analogues in China, the Nguyen Thieu school, close to the Obaku school, and the Lieu Kuan school, close to the Linji school, appeared in Vietnam.

In the 30s of the 20th century, the movement for the revival of Vietnamese Buddhism intensified in the country, and by the beginning of the 70s, many pagodas were being built in Vietnam. Currently, among the approximately 60 million Vietnamese people, about a third of the population are Mahayana followers. Of all the Mahayana schools currently in the country, the most influential, along with the schools of Pure Land Buddhism, are the Thien schools and, in particular, the Lamte (Linji) school.