I argue that awareness of the conventional self as delusion coupled with mindful observation of our embodied physical experience as a web of interacting processes can allow for the possibility of experiencing other life-forms, and even the planet itself, as processes that interact with our processes (and as therefore part of our processes), thus increasing our empathy for others and the planet. Practices that allow a shift in awareness to embodied physical experience, such as meditation, can “[open] the eye to a new possibility of rebuilding our worldview […] by educating our bodily consciousness” (
Francesconi and Tarozzi 2012, p. 281). If we, as a global society, can shift our mode of responsiveness to the world and each other from one of reification and delusion to one of empathy through the practice of mindful embodied awareness, there is a chance we can not only recover from the COVID-19 pandemic, but also rebuild our global community and thrive as a more empathetic society in the future.
While contemplating the emptiness of phenomena and the impossibility of an inherent self can be uncomfortable on the surface, when we look deeper, these ideas are actually liberating because they allow for change. Nagarjuna points out that “such phenomena as arising, ceasing, suffering, change, enlightenment […] are possible
only if they are empty [italics mine]” (
Garfield 1995, p. 308) and “the achievement of nirvana requires dependence, impermanence, and the possibility of change, all of which are grounded in emptiness” (p. 322). In this view then, “there is no difference in entity between
nirvana [enlightenment] and
samsara [suffering]; nirvana is simply samsara seen without reification, without attachment, [and] without delusion” (p. 331). A person enters nirvana as a state of being, not as a place to be (p. 333). The act of shifting our perception to and of the here-and-now can thus turn our suffering into a sense of well-being and harmony within this world. However, while encouraging us to break the habit of reification, Nagarjuna cautions that we must not fall into “the abyss of nihilism” because then “action itself is impossible and senseless, and one’s realization amounts to nothing” (p. 314). The problem with emptiness is not emptiness itself; it is the socially conditioned perception of emptiness as a lack of something that is the problem. We keep trying to fill up the emptiness—but “nothing that we can ever grasp or achieve can end our sense of lack” (
Loy 2008, p. 21), of course, because we are characterizing emptiness as a lack of essence, and all phenomena are empty of essence, therefore no phenomena can fill the emptiness. Instead, we must change our perception of emptiness, and with it, our mode of being in the world. Awareness that all phenomena has the “coextensive properties of emptiness, dependent-origination, and conventional identity” (
Garfield 1995, p. 308) is the crux of the Middle Way; thus, being mindful of the Middle Way is the practice of keeping this awareness in mind as we move through our daily lives and engage with our environments. This can allow for a shift in perception of the world we experience from one of suffering to one that includes the possibility for change. If suffering were inherently existent, it could never stop; understanding that it does not inherently exist makes stopping suffering possible, which is arguably the first step to actually stopping suffering. It is difficult to engage with the world in a mode of empathy if one is suffering, so this could also be a first step towards facilitating an empathetic mindset.
Being mindful of Nagarjuna’s conceptions of emptiness and no-self in the Middle Way allows for a mode of being that gives “priority to opening ourselves up to the world and a greater acceptance of the open-ended impermanence of our existence” (
Loy 2003, p. 113). Loy suggests that, “meditation is letting-go [of our desire to fill the emptiness], getting back to the emptiness/fullness at our core” (
Loy 2008, p. 23). The emptiness of essence allows for a fullness of possibility. The practice of mindful awareness of this idea through meditation also helps to reconstruct the sense of self in a less reified way by “helping us become more mindful in daily life” (p. 23). Thich Nhat Hanh suggests that the transformation of consciousness is a paradigm shift that “requires the practice of mindfulness to realize the nature of interbeing, with the awareness that Earth and all beings are interconnected and indivisible as a single entity, and cultivation of the insight that one’s consciousness is also the consciousness of the Earth” (
Lim 2019, p. 126). Simply being aware of the fundamental emptiness and interbeing of all phenomena might seem easy, but it is difficult to be aware in this way in our contemporary world; attention and practice is required.
3.1. Paying Attention
Although we do not usually think about it this way, it can be helpful to consider attention as a limited resource; its abundance or scarcity depends on, among other things, where you are, what is happening around you, how much time you have, and how you are feeling. If you are very tired, for example, you might have less attention in your proverbial wallet to “pay” than someone who has had a full night’s sleep; if there is an overwhelmingly offensive smell, you might find it difficult to pay attention to anything else; or if you are feeling a strong emotion, it may be difficult to shift your attention away from it. However, we can and do choose what to spend our attention on, but sometimes we forget that it is a scarce commodity that we have control over. For example, think about how much time you spend in a day paying attention to something specifically, on purpose. What kinds of things take up most of your attention funds? Social media, news media, film, television, YouTube, advertising and other people are frequent attention guzzlers. Now, think about how much time you spend in a day paying attention to sensations you perceive in your own body, in comparison. For most members of contemporary society, the latter is negligible; many even actively ignore sensations perceived in the body, because we believe our attention is better paid elsewhere.
In his book
Money, Sex,
War, Karma (2008), David Loy outlines three ways in which our awareness—what we pay attention to—is conditioned that was not experienced by previous Buddhist cultures and practitioners (p. 96): the fragmentation of attention, the commodification of attention, and the control of attention. Our attention is fragmented because we are bombarded by information and connectivity constantly through our ever-present technology (p. 97); our attention is commodified by the constant onslaught of advertising in our consumer culture (p. 98); and our attention is controlled through sophisticated propaganda, which manipulates what we think (p. 100), including perpetuating the delusion of an inherent and separate self. If
Gangopadhyay’s (
2014) embodied simulation view of empathy is correct, then it is no wonder that we, as a global society, have difficulty empathizing with each other and the planet; we actively ignore our bodily sensations and emotions because there is not enough attention left over after all of the attention traps contemporary society must navigate, thus complicating our ability to empathize with others.
According to
Loy (
2008), the solution to these afflictions of awareness is “the liberation of collective attention” (p. 102). This involves bringing our awareness back to the here-and-now, to our lived, embodied experience, and learning to de-condition our awareness from attention traps that feed delusions, including the delusion of an inherently existent self. This is a form of mediation that is an improvable skill, available to all; awareness can be considered “part of the basic nature of the mind, one that has been temporarily obscured by habitual patterns of delusion but can be developed, just like every other natural potential that human beings have” (
Francesconi and Tarozzi 2012, p. 280). The discovery of mirror neurons has led to the theory that the role of the body is to “clarify and translate the interaction with the external world, where the most important element […] is neither the external world nor the body, but the relationship between them” (p. 275). This is important to consider when engaging with conceptions of empathy because our emotions, often influenced by our relationships with each other and the world, are felt in our bodies. In
Descartes’ Error (2005), Antonio Damasio suggests that emotions are just as cognitive as any other perceptual image (p. 158), and that these emotions produce feelings in the body, defined by Damasio as the “experience of what your body is doing while thoughts about specific contents roll by” (p. 145). In other words, the mind is not separate from the body; instead, the two are interrelated and ever-changing processes engaging with the processes that constitute the world. It makes sense then, that to better engage with our own emotions and ability to empathize, we can practice paying attention to what our bodies are feeling while we emote and empathize.
The
Satipatthana Sutta (
n.d.) outlines contemplation of the internal and external body as one of the foundations of Buddhist mindfulness, but it is often a practice that is forgotten in the hustle and bustle of contemporary life. The text suggests that, “contemplating the body as a body internally, […] contemplating the body as a body externally, […] contemplating the body as a body both internally and externally […] contemplating in the body its nature of arising, […] its nature of vanishing, […] its nature of both arising and vanishing” all while “abid[ing] independent, not clinging to anything in the world” is an integral part of mindfulness (
Section 2). It is important to note the final part of the passage, “not clinging to anything;” in order for mindful contemplation to occur, the practitioner must let go of judgement, analysis, or any emotion related to the observation. The practice is simply to observe.
Interestingly, the practice of paying attention to internal sensations of the body—interoception—has gained attention across disciplines in recent years. Interoceptive awareness has been “shown to facilitate awareness and identification of one’s emotional state, and thus the regulation of negative affect;” additionally, “sustained, non-evaluative attention to interoceptive sensations was suggested to disengage individuals from dysfunctional cognitive patterns (e.g., negative rumination) [...] that perpetuate negative moods” (
Khoury et al. 2017, p. 1167). Simply bringing our attention to an embodied awareness, as long as it is accepting (non-evaluative), can thus have an enormous impact on emotion, and can offer a means of breaking the cycle of maladaptive emotion regulation strategies.
One of the most important social processes that has been shown to benefit mental health—and which has traditionally been considered a purely disembodied form of cognitive control—is emotion regulation, defined by
Guendelman et al. (
2017) as “all the conscious and non-conscious strategies we use to increase, maintain or decrease one or more components of an emotional response, including implicit, nonconscious, and automatic processes, as well as explicit, voluntary and conscious mental processes” (p. 5). There are many emotion regulation strategies, ranging from those that favour conceptual focus on acceptance and attention to those that favour awareness of bodily states. Strategies which represent disembodied cognition such as avoidance, rumination and suppression have been associated with anxiety, depression and eating disorders (p. 2). Avoidance ignores bodily sensation; rumination ignores body sensation
in the present moment, instead making the body feel as if it were actually in the situation being ruminated over
2; and suppression labels the bodily feelings caused by emotions as negative and therefore undesirable. Furthermore, these disembodied maladaptive strategies complicate our ability to empathize with others (
Khoury et al. 2017, p. 1165), which could be contributing to the declining empathy within our society. From a Buddhist perspective,
Garfield (
2017) argues, “Because our own
maladaptive mental activity is the root of primal confusion, it is the root of the other root vices of attraction and aversion, and so of all vice, and so of all suffering. Because our own
effective mental activity is the only possible root of insight and understanding, it is the only possible root of compassion, of virtue and so of liberation” (p. 209). It makes sense that an inablity to regulate emotion complicates our ability to empathize because emotions take up so much of our attention; it is very difficult to empathize when an individual is caught up in their own emotions, as there is simply not enough attention to pay to both.
3.2. The Importance of Pairing Philosophy with Practice
It is important to note that maladaptive emotion regulation strategies focus solely on cognition and thought process, caught up in the delusion of a dualistic interpretation of mind and body; they ignore the role of the physical body in emotion generation, experience, and regulation.
Garfield (
2017) points out the impossibility of separating philosophy (cognition) from practice (in the body): “Without mindfulness, even carefully considered and endorsed reflective knowledge is not efficacious in action, just as a carefully memorized score cannot guide a musician’s skillful performance without the cultivation of its action-guiding force, or a playbook guide a basketball player without assiduous practice, not only of the play itself, but also of the perceptual and motor skills that enable its effective execution in the moment of play” (p. 209). Summarizing verses from Śāntideva’s
Bodhicāryāvatāra, he adds, that “care for the mind is the foundation of all other virtuous activity, as well as the foundation of the possibility of happiness, the release from suffering, and a meaningful life; [Śāntideva] concludes this passage by emphasizing that this care amounts to the union of attention and introspective vigilance. That is the essence of mindfulness” (p. 206). Mindful emotion regulation strategies, such as meditation, incorporate this attention to introspective vigilance via sensory-perception and interoceptive-proprioception (
Guendelman et al. 2017, p. 14), thereby situating emotion regulation as an embodied process (p. 16) in the present moment rather than a purely conceptual one. It is important to note that mindful emotion regulation is not a purely embodied process either; it simply introduces the body into the equation, providing a more balanced perspective. Disembodied emotion regulation strategies aim to change the content of emotional states while mindfulness-focused strategies focus on changing the relationship to emotional states rather than the content itself (
Guendelman et al. 2017, p. 16). By changing the perspective from which emotions are experienced to a mode which includes attention to bodily sensation, mindful emotion regulation encourages acceptance and curiosity about the experience rather than avoidance, rumination or suppression (p. 16).
Rumination can be a particularly formidable complication to empathy because emotional states elicited by the ruminations cause the body to feel as if it is actually in the situation being ruminated over, therefore demanding immediate attention. For example, if I am lying on a beach on my last day of vacation and I am ruminating over the unattractive prospect of returning to work, my body responds by eliciting the feeling of actually being in that unpleasant environment. The thought, and the emotion it elicits, takes my attention out of the present moment and complicates my ability to engage with my current environment. This idea is described by Antonio
Damasio (
2012) in his “somatic marker hypothesis;” he posits that the brain creates and stores sensory “maps” of body states that elicit a felt emotional response in the body (p. 110). He argues that, “the brain can simulate, within somatosensing regions, certain body states, as if they were occurring; and because our perception of any body state is rooted in the body maps of somatosensing regions, we perceive the body state as actually occurring even if it is not” (p. 109). So, if a thought that causes a fear response—heart racing, body tingling—is ruminated over, the body re-creates the feeling of the fear response, even if the trigger of the response is not in the present environment. For this reason, I argue that rumination severely complicates our ability to empathize with others because it takes our attention, including our body state, out of the here-and-now.
However, a key to understanding—and even to practicing—empathy could also be hidden in the somatic marker hypothesis.
Damasio (
2012) argues that “the connection we have established between our own body states and the significance they have acquired for us,”—for example, the understanding that being afraid is a largely unpleasant feeling—“can be transferred to the simulated body states, at which point we can attribute a comparable significance to the simulation” (pp. 111–12); according to this understanding, we feel empathy for a person experiencing fear because our brains simulate the feeling of fear in our own bodies, which reminds us of its unpleasantness, and might even motivate us to help the person in fear. This understanding of the brain and its connection to felt body states is also important when it comes to the idea of practicing an empathetic mode of engagement with the world—in other words, a lived state of empathy.
Damasio (
2012) argues, “a state that has already occurred in the organism should be easier to simulate since it has already been mapped by precisely the same somatosensing structures that are now responsible for simulating it” (p. 110); thus, the more we practice bringing attention to how an empatheic state—or an understanding of interbeing/emptiness for that matter—
feels in the body, the easier it is to elicit that felt state, even in a circumstance that might be challenging. The Buddhist practice of mindful contemplation of the internal and external body offers a practical method of practicing this mode of engagement.
I argue that pairing the Buddhist philosophy of emptiness with the physically experienced practice of understanding emptiness can facilitate emotion regulation, thus paving the way for an empathetic mode of engagement with the world. Mindfully bringing attention to more of the felt, bodily processes that constitute what we experience as our subjective “self” in the present moment can allow individuals to break free of attention traps. This can, in turn, allow individuals to observe the interrelatedness and changeability of their own bodies (including thoughts) and environments in real time, thus providing an ever-accessible, real-world example of the emptiness of essence. It is important to note that these observations should occur with the understanding that our conventionally designated “self” is in fact both interdependent and in a state of constant change, as Nagarjuna suggests, or in the process of interbeing with all other human and non-human elements through the lens of Thich Nhat Hanh.
Loy (
2008) suggests that Buddhism is “about awakening, which means realizing something about the constructedness of the sense of self and the nothing at its core” (p. 23). Observing the body in real time as a web of interconnected processes may help to
awaken the experience of interbeing and of emptiness of essence. Perhaps part of the reason Western society tends to reify the “self” is due to our valuing of certain senses (which are processes in themselves) over others.; For example, consider how much attention you pay to each of your senses, respectively; there is a good chance you pay more attention to visual and auditory stimuli than olfactory or gustatory, and more attention to the latter two than to internal and external sensation or proprioception. This is largely a result of the society in which we live; attention traps like advertisements almost always engage with sight and/or sound exclusively. If we pay most of our attention to attention traps, we pay most of our attention to those two senses. However, the processes that we conventionally define as lived experience are filtered through all of our senses, thus the practice of engaging with more of those senses more often may facilitate understanding of the self as a process, and by demonstration, of the emptiness of essence.
Garfield points out that Nagarjuna’s understanding of emptiness must be “internalized through meditation, so that it becomes not merely a philosophical theory that we can reason our way into, but the basic way in which we take up the world” (p. 340). Similarly, Thich Nhat Hanh advocates that mindfulness should be integrated with all activities as a way of life, regardless of whether or not the activities are worldly or spiritual (
Lim 2019, p. 230). If we understand the fundamental interbeing of the cosmos at all moments, in all activities of daily life, an empathetic mode of engagement is possible—perhaps it even becomes the only mode of engagement possible. This idea situates socially engaged Buddhism firmly within Buddhist tradition. As Nhat Hanh points out, “Buddhism means to be awake” and “if you are awake, you cannot do otherwise than act compassionately […]. So Buddhism must be engaged in the world. If it is not engaged it is not Buddhism” (
Gowens 2014, p. 234). A mindful meditation practice is thus a vital part of understanding conceptions of emptiness and interbeing, and is also, according to
Garfield (
2017) “regarded by all scholars and practitioners of all Buddhist traditions as essential not only for the development of insight but also for the cultivation and maintenance of ethical discipline” (p. 204).
Guendelman et al. (
2017) define
mindfulness as practice as “the concrete practice of mindfulness meditation, the deployment (and training) of a non-elaborative (non-conceptual) present-centred, exploratory and non-judgemental (non-valorative) awareness” with the intention of inducing
mindfulness as a state, which is “the actual proper first-person experience of the non-elaborative, present-centred, non-judgemental awareness” (p. 3).
Khoury et al. (
2017) point out the effectiveness of these mechanisms when they note that the “repeated practice of bringing attention to an internal sensory stimulus trains the practitioner’s ability to regulate attention and distinguish between thinking about physical sensations [...] versus experiencing them directly” (p. 1167). This suggests that eventually, mindfulness as practice can lead to mindfulness as a day-to-day state of being through attention to physical sensations paired with Buddhist philosophy.
Garfield (
2017) writes, “the cultivation of mindfulness is the cultivation of a particular spontaneous response: that of being mindful. This cultivation is the very point of mindfulness meditation. Here we must remember that mindfulness is not simply an
accompaniment to or a
quality of actions or of perceptual sets; being mindful is
itself an action, and training in mindfulness makes being mindful, being
attentive, a spontaneous way of taking up with the world” (p. 217) Śāntideva further emphasizes that “when mindfulness becomes spontaneous we gain control of our emotional and interpersonal lives” (p. 217). It is my belief that if enough individuals can experience this state of being more often through the practice of mindful body contemplation, it will allow for a more empathetic engagement with the world because it facilitates an understanding of the world as part of the individual, and of the individual as part of the world.