Our Trip to India: Dharamsala Day 8
by Siegfried Othmer | October 28th, 2014by Siegfried Othmer, PhD
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Day 8
September 23 (Tuesday)
The day started early with the circumambulation of the Monastery grounds, in the tradition of the walking meditation of Tibetan Buddhists. First one had to run the gauntlet of beggars gathering outside of the monastery entrance. It occurred to me at this point that I had not seen a single Tibetan beggar. They were all Indians. On my way down to the monastery grounds I saw a young boy of about nine years of age with one leg totally misshapen. I have no idea about how such an odd shape could even come about. I stuffed a bill into his hand, and as I walked on I noticed out of the corner of my eye that he almost immediately handed it off to someone else, presumably his handler. Is that what is going on here? This kid is obviously a magnet for charitable donations. I am told that in Germany begging is a highly organized affair that is regimented by an Eastern European criminal syndicate. And now I find out that this is also the story of Slumdog Millionaire, which I never saw. If poverty is pervasive enough, it becomes institutionalized.
The leisurely circumambulation took us along a path with many points of interest: large arrays of prayer flags, prayer wheels, and stupas. Monks lined up along the path with their begging bowls. There were memorials to individuals who had died by immolation. And there were plaques that gave the Tibetan version of their tragic history. One in particular sums it up:
“Tibet enjoys a 2000-year old history of independence, and shares a race, language, and customs and habits which is completely different from China. In 823 A.D., Tibetan and Chinese ancestors renounced their violent past and signed a peace treaty. Stone steles were erected inscribed with the words “Tibetans shall be happy in Tibet and Chinese shall be happy in China.” Although the stele still stands as a witness, the Chinese violated that peace treaty and invaded Tibet in 1949. They indulged in inhumane killing and torture, looting and destruction, and in damaging the environment, to carry out their policy of colonialism. Tibet, which is known as the roof of the world, is being turned into the center of Chinese nuclear and military ambitions.”
By late morning we were back at the Medical Institute for the second portion of my presentation, intended to cover the science underlying neurofeedback. Rather than covering the usual material related to resting state networks and their role in psychopathology, I again chose to take a different approach here. The natural domain of neurofeedback is the enhancement of function, not the expunging of dysfunction. This orientation aligns us with the thrust of Tibetan Medicine as well. Here I was at liberty to take that as my point of departure. I decided to address certain key themes relating to our central nervous system when seen as a self-organizing system.
The most fundamental theme is the frequency-basis of the organization of the EEG in particular, and of self-organizing systems in general. This leads naturally into a discussion of the Systems Model, the proposition that self-organizing systems cannot be readily understood on the basis of their piece parts. A third theme was the Relaxation Model, the paradoxical reality that de-activation of the system prepares the ground for functional recovery.
Yet another theme was the bilateral organization of the cerebrum, and its implications for functional recovery. And finally that led into a discussion of the bifurcation of our approach into bipolar training and synchrony training.
Sue devoted a part of the lunch period to giving the Venerable an exposure to our 10-Hz, alpha-band synchrony program. There was respectful silence in the room, but we could not resist peering at the EEG screen. I looked in vain for evidence of state shifts in the EEG. Those are typically elusive, but we had been led to expect a blooming of alpha band activity as seasoned meditators enter calm states. According to Jim Hardt, who probably possesses the largest data resource on these points, even more advanced meditators manage to organize their theta band into synchronous patterns as well, but there was no evidence of that either. The most advanced meditators even organize their delta band activity into large-amplitude synchronous patterns.
As it happens, the only signal of any significance was a large delta band signal of a single frequency. Its amplitude was unvarying, however, which is uncharacteristic of any biological signal, so we were clearly looking at artifact, due no doubt to the questionable electrical environment in this setting. After that experience, the Venerable also had a chance to experience the infra-low frequency training. He clearly responded to both. Sue then asked the usual questions: “How does your body feel?” “I don’t make the distinction,” he responded. Ah, the unitary self, unburdened by Descartian dualistic baggage. He ventured something like “I feel healthier” after the excursion into the infra-low frequency range. Sue then told him to note any subsequent effects that might conceivably be related to this training experience.
In the afternoon session, Sue presented the clinical model, which prepared the ground for the first practicum. We were aware that for this audience, the test of what we were saying lay completely in the realm of practical experience, so we inserted that early in the program.
Dinner was at the Tibet Hotel, where a culturally mixed dinner was served around a very large table to the entire group. John Loo, a Singaporean businessman (and friend of Minh and of her mother) who had come for the teaching, generously took care of the costs. I happened to be seated next to John during the dinner, and it turned out that he was an extremely well read man. He spoke of having 3000 books in his library, and that he devotes some time to reading a book every day. John had also attended portions of the class, and so the discussion at one point turned to Swami Rama. “Have you read Swami Rama,” he asked. Why no, I hadn’t. All my information about him was second-hand. And as a matter of fact, I had never asked myself the question of where such an extraordinary individual might have come from. “I’ll get you the book Living with the Himalayan Masters,” said John, and so he did. I have been reading it off and on ever since.
Our Trip to India Continues