Tuesday, September 12, 2006

I Think Therefore I Exist


In a time of universal deceit - telling the truth is a revolutionary act. (George Orwell)

You must be the change you wish to see in the world. (Gandhi)

All that is necessary for evil to succeed is for good men to do nothing. (Edmund Burke)

Hell is Truth Seen Too Late. (Thomas Hobbes)

Meditate often upon the bond of all in the Universe and their mutual relationship.

For all things are in a way woven together. (Marcus Aurelius)

All things come out of the one and the one out of all things. (Heraclitus)

I think, hence I am, was so certain and of such evidence, that no ground of doubt, however extravagant, could be alleged by the sceptics capable of shaking it, I concluded that I might, without scruple, accept it as the first principle of the philosophy of which I was in search. (Rene Descartes)

Several years have now elapsed since I first became aware that I had accepted, even from my youth, many false opinions for true, and that consequently what I afterwards based on such principles was highly doubtful: and from that time I was convinced of the necessity of undertaking once in my life to rid myself of all the opinions I had adopted, and of commencing anew the work of building from the foundation, if I desired to establish a firm and abiding superstructure in the sciences. (Rene Descartes)

Currently Physics (and thus all human knowledge) is founded on the concepts of particles and forces in Space and Time, which assumes the existence of four separate things. This causes many problems for Humanity because the necessary connection between these things is unknown. The Metaphysics of Space and Motion and the Wave Structure of Matter (WSM) solves these problems by describing Reality in terms of One thing, Space, existing with the Properties of a Wave Medium. Matter is formed from Spherical Standing Waves in Space which cause the 'particle' effect at their Wave Center. Time is due to the Wave Motion (activity) of Space. Forces are caused by the interaction of the Spherical In and Out Waves with other matter in Space which changes the location of the Wave-Center (and which we 'see' as a 'force accelerating a particle').

(Albert Einstein) The free, unhampered exchange of ideas and scientific conclusions is necessary for the sound development of science, as it is in all spheres of cultural life. ...
We must not conceal from ourselves that no improvement in the present depressing situation is possible without a severe struggle; for the handful of those who are really determined to do something is minute in comparison with the mass of the lukewarm and the misguided. ... Humanity is going to need a substantially new way of thinking if it is to survive.
When forced to summarize the general theory of relativity in one sentence: Time and space and gravitation have no separate existence from matter. ...
Physical objects are not in space, but these objects are spatially extended (as fields). In this way the concept 'empty space' loses its meaning. ... The field thus becomes an irreducible element of physical description, irreducible in the same sense as the concept of matter (particles) in the theory of Newton. ... The physical reality of space is represented by a field whose components are continuous functions of four independent variables - the co-ordinates of space and time. Since the theory of general relatively implies the representation of physical reality by a continuous field, the concept of particles or material points cannot play a fundamental part, nor can the concept of motion. The particle can only appear as a limited region in space in which the field strength or the energy density are particularly high.
The subtlety of the concept of space was enhanced by the discovery that there exist no completely rigid bodies. All bodies are elastically deformable.

Friday, September 08, 2006

Mental modifications

The five types of mental modifications are: correct cognition, based on direct perception, valid inference and verbal testimony; misconception, based upon something other than itself, namely the five kleshas or sources of sorrow — ignorance, egoism, attachment, hate and the fear of death, according to the Yogabhashya; fantasy, engendered by words and concepts, when and to the degree that they do not refer to reality; sleep, which occurs when other modifications cease and the mind is emptied of mental contents; and memory, which is the result of clinging to, or at least not letting go of, objects or images of subjective experiences.

Thursday, September 07, 2006

Thinking like a Genius

Thinking like a Genius

The first and last thing
demanded of genius
is the love of truth

Goethe


Even if you're not a genius, you can use the same strategies as Aristotle and Einstein to harness the power of your creative mind and better manage your future.""

The following eight strategies encourage you to think productively, rather than reproductively, in order to arrive at solutions to problems. "These strategies are common to the thinking styles of creative geniuses in science, art, and industry throughout history."

1. Look at problems in many different ways, and find new perspectives that no one else has taken (or no one else has publicized!)

Leonardo da Vinci believed that, to gain knowledge about the form of a problem, you begin by learning how to restructure it in many different ways. He felt that the first way he looked at a problem was too biased. Often, the problem itself is reconstructed and becomes a new one.

2. Visualize!

When Einstein thought through a problem, he always found it necessary to formulate his subject in as many different ways as possible, including using diagrams. He visualized solutions, and believed that words and numbers as such did not play a significant role in his thinking process.

3. Produce! A distinguishing characteristic of genius is productivity.

Thomas Edison held 1,093 patents. He guaranteed productivity by giving himself and his assistants idea quotas. In a study of 2,036 scientists throughout history, Dean Keith Simonton of the University of California at Davis found that the most respected scientists produced not only great works, but also many "bad" ones. They weren't afraid to fail, or to produce mediocre in order to arrive at excellence.

4. Make novel combinations. Combine, and recombine, ideas, images, and thoughts into different combinations no matter how incongruent or unusual.

The laws of heredity on which the modern science of genetics is based came from the Austrian monk Grego Mendel, who combined mathematics and biology to create a new science.

5. Form relationships; make connections between dissimilar subjects.

Da Vinci forced a relationship between the sound of a bell and a stone hitting water. This enabled him to make the connection that sound travels in waves. Samuel Morse invented relay stations for telegraphic signals when observing relay stations for horses.

6. Think in opposites.

Physicist Niels Bohr believed, that if you held opposites together, then you suspend your thought, and your mind moves to a new level. His ability to imagine light as both a particle and a wave led to his conception of the principle of complementarity. Suspending thought (logic) may allow your mind to create a new form.

7. Think metaphorically.

Aristotle considered metaphor a sign of genius, and believed that the individual who had the capacity to perceive resemblances between two separate areas of existence and link them together was a person of special gifts.

8. Prepare yourself for chance.

Whenever we attempt to do something and fail, we end up doing something else. That is the first principle of creative accident. Failure can be productive only if we do not focus on it as an unproductive result. Instead: analyze the process, its components, and how you can change them, to arrive at other results. Do not ask the question "Why have I failed?", but rather "What have I done?"

Friday, August 18, 2006

MEMORY AND RECOLLECTION.

MEMORY AND RECOLLECTION.

TERMS DEFINED:

Memory and Recollection are treated by philosophers, as important departments only of the principle of association. This, as we shall see, is demanded by sound philosophical analysis. The two terms above named are often used interchangeably, and never distinguished but by the following circumstances. In the process denominated memory, notions, or conceptions of facts and events, are spontaneously recalled to the mind. In that called recollection, these intellectual states are recalled by an effort of will.

STATES OF MIND IN MEMORY AND RECOLLECTION.

There are three distinct mental operations connected with each of these processes of mind.

1. Some feeling or state of mind which has formerly co-existed with the perception or apprehension of the object recalled—a feeling or state spontaneously recurring, or revived by some object of present thought, perception, or sensation.

2. A simple apprehension of the object or event itself,—an apprehension attended with no belief or judgment whatever pertaining to the object.

3. A recurrence, in thought, of the circumstances of time and place connected with the perception or apprehension of the object.

THE ABOVE STATEMENT VERIFIED.

That objects of memory and recollection are not recalled directly and immediately, but are suggested, in the manner above described, is obvious from two considerations.

1. From universal consciousness. Those who are least accustomed to analyze the operations of their own minds, as well as philosophers, have noticed the fact. Hence the common affirmations: "this reminds me of," or "this suggests to my mind such and such occurrences,"—clearly showing, not merely that such events are suggested, but that the objects of them are conscious of it.

2. When we wish to recollect any events, or in the common phrase, to recall them; we do not attempt to do this directly, but by directing the attention to various objects, at present before the mind, that they may suggest those which we wish to recall. Memory and recollection are, in this respect, subject to precisely the same law; and the law which governs each is the same which governs the entire phenomena of association. The above remark is so obviously true, that philosophers, as stated above, almost universally treat of these subjects in the same connection, memory being considered as one department only of association.

DISTINCT AND EASY RECOLLECTION.

Taking this position for granted, or as having been already proved, it will follow, as a necessary consequence, that the ease and distinctness with which any objects or events will be recalled to the mind, will always be proportioned, to the depth and intensity of the impressions formerly received from them, and to the number of objects and events with which such impressions have heretofore co-existed, or may hereafter co-exist. This conclusion we also find to be confirmed by universal experience. When you hear the declaration, "such and such events I shall never forget," suppose you ask the reason for such an affirmation. The answer will invariably be, "it made such a deep impression upon my mind." On the other hand, if a person is asked for the reason why he recalls with such difficulty any particular event, he will uniformly answer, "it made such a feeble impression upon my mind." Assuming that the state of the sensibility is the regulating principle of suggestion, the fact is self-evident, that the ease with which any particular event will be recalled, depends not only upon the depth and intensity of the impression which it formerly made, but upon the number of objects or events with which such impression may have coexisted, and will hereafter co-exist.

DISTINCT IMPRESSIONS, ON WHAT CONDITIONED.

One inquiry, of no small importance in mental science, here claims our attention, to wit, the circumstances under which impressions received from objects of thought or perception are rendered deep and distinct. Among these I notice the three following, as the most important:

1. Attention. In former chapters it has been shown that attention is the condition of distinct perception, in respect to the phenomena of both sense and consciousness. In walking, for example, we do not remember the particular act of volition, which directed each particular step. Yet we know that we must have been conscious of such acts. The eye runs carelessly over a particular landscape, and nothing but the most general outline is remembered, while we know that each particular part must have been seen by us. For the want of attention, however, these objects were not distinctly perceived. Of course no distinct and vivid impression was made upon the mind, and consequently they are not remembered. The manner in which attention influences memory is two-fold. It not only impresses deeply and distinctly on the mind particular scenes, each taken as a whole, but all the parts of such scenes. Hence the whole of such scenes will be recalled by the perception or suggestion of any particular part, which may be met with in other scenes. That memory, however, does not depend primarily upon attention, but upon the impression made by objects of attention, is evident from the fact, that the ease with which any particular event is recalled, is not proportioned to the degree of attention devoted to it, but to the vividness of the impression received from it.

2. The impression made upon the mind by a particular event and consequently the ease with which it will be recalled, depends upon the circumstances in which the event occurred—circumstances external to the mind; such for example, as its occurrence at a time and place unexpected; in connection with other events deeply interesting to us, etc.

3. The impression which events make on the mind, depends upon the state of the mind itself, when they occur. Offices of kindness, when we little need them, make a comparatively slight impression upon the mind. They are accordingly forgotten with comparative ease. But the stranger who watched over us when we were sick, in a strange land, we never forget; for the obvious reason that such occurrences are deeply impressed upon the mind. Who is not aware that the impression made upon the mind in reading a book, listening to a discourse, or witnessing any scene, and consequently the ease and distinctness with which they are recalled, depends greatly upon the state of mind at the time?

DIVERSITY OF POWERS OF MEMORY, AS DEVELOPED IN DIFFERENT INDIVIDUALS.

Assuming the principle, that those things of which we have formed distinct conceptions, and which have deeply moved and affected our sensibility, will be easily and distinctly remembered, the diverse kinds of memory, as they appear in different individuals, may be readily explained.

PHILOSOPHIC MEMORY.

The philosopher is, above all things, interested in universal truths and general principles, and in facts which illustrate such truths and principles. With names, and minor circumstances of time and place, he has little or no interest. These, of course, he seldom recalls; while general principles and facts connected with, and illustrative of general principles, he never forgets. Here we have the peculiarities of what may be called philosophical memory.

LOCAL MEMORY.

With general principles, however, the mass of men are very little interested. Events, as mere events, with all their circumstances of time, place, etc., are the things which chiefly interest them. In such cases, general principles, if understood at all, will readily pass from the mind, while facts and events, with all their adventitious circumstances, will leave their permanent impress upon it. Here we have the characteristics of what is called local memory.

ARTIFICIAL MEMORY.

The third and only other kind of memory which it is necessary to notice, is called artificial memory, a method of connecting things easily remembered with those which are recalled with greater difficulty, that the latter may be recalled by means of the former. The manner in which the principle of suggestion operates in this instance, may be readily explained. The two objects are brought into the relation of co-existence with one and the same state of mind; and the familiar object, by exciting that state, recalls the one less familiar. The inexpediency of resorting to such associations, excepting upon trivial subjects, is so obvious as not to need any particular remarks.

A few topics of a somewhat miscellaneous character, connected with our present inquiries will close this chapter.

A READY AND RETENTIVE MEMORY.

The distinction between what is called a ready, and a retentive memory, next demands attention. A philosophical memory is known to be the most retentive and least ready. General principles are regarded by the philosopher, as above all price. These of course he never forgets. For the same reason, facts and events, connected with, and, illustrative of general principles leave an impress equally permanent upon his mind. The memory of such a person however, will not, in ordinary circumstances, be ready; for the obvious reason, that when he wishes to recall any particular fact, he finds it necessary first to recall the general principle with which it was associated. For the same reason, local memory will be more ready, but less retentive. The qualities in objects with which such persons are interested, exist alike in such an infinite variety of objects, that when this quality is met with, a great multitude of similar objects will be at once suggested. They will generally be those however, which have been most recently seen. Persons possessing local memory merely, will excel in common conversation, and in what may be called loose and rambling composition. Philosophical memory, displays itself in the laboratory, the hall of science, on the bench, in the lecture room, and pulpit.

VAST AND DIVERSE POWERS OF MEMORY.

The degree in which this faculty is developed in different individuals, may now be readily accounted for. It is owing, as I suppose, to two circumstances—natural diversities in which the power is possessed by different individuals, and the accidental direction of the power. Themistocles knew every citizen of Athens by name. Cyrus and Hannibal had each a similar knowledge of every soldier in his respective army. Their original endowments made them capable of such acquisitions. They made such acquisitions, because they considered them necessary to the end they designed to accomplish.

IMPROVEMENT OF MEMORY.

But for the faculty under consideration, the past would be to us, as if it had not been. No advantages could be derived from experience of our own or that of others. Existence, at each successive moment, must be commenced anew. The same errors and follies, which formerly occurred, must be repeated, without the possibility of improvement. Through this faculty, the past furnishes the chart and compass for the future. The progress of improvement is onward, with perpetually accumulating force. The question, therefore, How can this faculty be improved? presents itself, as of special importance. The following suggestions may not be out of place on this point:

1. The first thing to be kept distinctly in mind, in all plans for the permanent improvement of memory, is the principle on which its ready and retentive action depends; to wit, deep and distinct impression. All our plans for the accomplishment of the object under consideration, should be formed with direct reference to this one principle.

2. As impressions depend very much upon distinctness of conception, in all efforts to improve this faculty, we should habituate ourselves to form distinct conceptions of objects, especially of those which we wish to recollect. In this manner the impression will not only be deep and permanent, but the notion associated with it being distinct, will, when recalled, possess a corresponding distinctness.

3. In thought, the object should be located in distinct relation to the circumstances of time and place with which it is associated. In this manner the impression and conception will not only be rendered deep and distinct, but each circumstance referred to, as it recurs in connection with other thoughts and perceptions will, by exciting the feelings under consideration, recall the object associated with it.

4. Knowledge, in order to be retained permanently, must be systematized and reduced to general permanent principles. Otherwise, it will be exclusively subject to the law of local association which is so temporary in respect to retention.

5. To converse with others, and to write down our thoughts which we wish to retain, contribute to permanency and distinctness of recollection. Knowledge, by this means, is rendered distinct, the corresponding impression deep and permanent, and the whole subject of thought, most likely to be systematically arranged. All these circumstances tend to render memory distinct and permanent.

6. Memory also, to be improved, must be trusted, but at the same time, not overburdened, as is the case when everything is communicated to it, without the aid of a judicious diary of important thoughts and occurrences. That faculty which is not exercised will not be developed and improved. Memory is not exempt from this law. At the same time, to overburden a faculty is a sure way to palsy its energies. Nothing but reflection and judgment, properly exercised, can fix upon the line where memory should and should not be trusted, without the aid of written records of our thoughts, and thus secure a proper development of this faculty.

MEMORY OF THE AGED.

One of the first indications of the approaching feebleness of age, is the failure, in a greater or less degree, of the power of memory. A characteristic precisely the opposite is also sometimes presented in the experience of aged persons,—a wonderful revival of the memory of the occurrences of early life. A lady of my acquaintance, for example, aged about ninety years, had occasion to amuse some of her great-grandchildren one day. She thought she would, as a means to this end, relate to them the substance of a story, related in verse, which she had read when quite young. She had never committed it to memory, and doubtless had thought little of it for more than half a century. As she commenced the story, the entire poem came fresh to her recollection. She could repeat it all, word for word. These two facts in the experience of the aged,—the failure of memory, on the one hand, and its wonderful revival, on the other, need to be accounted for.

In respect to phenomena of the first class, two reasons may be assigned for their existence:

1. The failure of the faculty of perception and attention. As a consequence, distinct notions are not formed of objects of present thought and perception. Nor do they affect the mind as they formerly did. For these reasons, the peculiar feelings which have co-existed with former thoughts and perceptions, and would, if revived, suggest them, are not revived.

2. In the failing of the perceptive faculty, there is a corresponding change in the correlation of the sensibility to objects of thought and perception. Hence not the same feelings precisely are now excited by objects of thought and perception, as formerly, and consequently former intellectual states are not reproduced.

In respect to the second class, I would remark, that every one is aware, that amid the hurrying scenes of ordinary life, such crowds of associations rush upon the mind, at one and the same time, that no one entire scene of the past, is often distinctly recalled. On the other hand, when we are in a state of temporary isolation from the varying tide of events which is floating by and around us, then, is the time when our recollections of the past become full and distinct. Now the aged are in a state of isolation of a more permanent character. Hence, when a past scene is recalled, the mind is in a state of comparative freedom from all diverting and distracting associations. Consequently, the scene, in its entireness, is brought into full and distinct remembrance.

DURATION OF MEMORY.

If the law of association illustrated in the preceding chapter be admitted as true, it will follow, as a matter of course, that memory is absolutely indestructible. Thought can never perish. If the impression with which any thought has co-existed, should, at any period, however remote, be in any form revived, the thought itself may be recalled. If any element of a given impression be reproduced, no reason can be assigned, why a thought which co-existed with it, myriads of ages ago, should not thereby be recalled, as well as the one which co-existed with it but yesterday.

Numberless facts also, which lie around us in society, fully confirm the principle under consideration as a law of memory. The ease of the aged lady referred to above, presents a fact of this kind. The most striking one that now recurs to my recollection is given by Coleridge. It is the case of a German girl who had always labored as a domestic. While Coleridge was on a visit to Germany, and in the vicinity of her residence, she sickened, and if I mistake not, died. During her sickness, she began to utter sentences in languages unknown to all her attendants. Learned men, from a neighboring university, were called in. It was then found that she was reciting, with perfect correctness, entire passages from the Hebrew, Greek, Arabic and Syriac scriptures, and also from the writings of the ancient Fathers. The occurrence was, by many, regarded as miraculous. A young physician in attendance, however, determined to trace out her past history, for the purpose of finding a clue to the mystery. He found at last, that when quite small, the young woman had lived in the family of an aged clergyman of great learning, who was in the daily habit of reading aloud in his study from the writings above referred to. As the child was at work in a room contiguous, she was accustomed to stop, from time to time, and listen to those strange sounds, the meaning of not one of which did she understand. There was the clue to the mystery. Those sounds were imperishably impressed upon the memory. Hence their repetition, under the circumstances named. Cases of a similar nature might be adduced to any extent. They point with solemn interest to the nature of the immortal powers within, as well as to facts of portentous moment in the future development of those powers.

Ways to Think

1. Time it right. Most older people think more clearly in the morning; most younger people, in the afternoon. Figure out your own best "thinking time" and reserve it for your most challenging brain work.

2. Get a good education -- but don't overdo it. schooling has a positive impact on creativity up through the final year of college. Then the progressively narrow focus of graduate school actually detracts from creativity. "You don't become a great novelist by getting a Ph.D. in creative writing."

3. Listen to Confucius. The number one "memory aid" used by memory researchers themselves: Write it down. As the Chinese proverb puts it, the weakest ink lasts longer than the strongest memory.

4. Go for the high octane. Research shows that the amount of caffeine in a cup of coffee actually can help you concentrate. But if you're prone to anxiety, you're probably better off not jazzing up your brain with a jolt of java.

5. Anchor new memories to established ones. "Think of your existing memory as a scaffold upon which to fit new information," says University of Michigan cognitive researcher Denise Park, Ph.D. "Don't isolate new information out in left field. Always relate it to something."

6. Practice, practice, practice. Learning and repeatedly practicing new skills appears to change the brain's internal organization. A study showed that periodic training sessions helped volunteers in their 70s do better on cognitive and memory skills than they had when they were seven years younger. "Practice really helps," says Len Giambra, Ph.D., an emeritus psychologist at the National Institute on Aging. "A well-practiced older individual many times will be faster than an unpracticed younger individual."

7. Give your ideas a chance. Many of us are rewarded for our abilities to quickly evaluate facts and make a quick "go or no-go" decision. Creativity demands a much more leisurely and playful approach -- a willingness to give "absurd" ideas their due.

8. Pick an intellectual profession and a smart mate. Intriguing studies from Poland suggest that people whose careers demand an exercise of intellect are more likely to sustain high levels of cognition in their lives. And marrying someone smart may provide you with ongoing stimulation.

9. Expose yourself to multiple experiences. Creativity often boils down to the ability to adapt solutions from one domain to another. Velcro for instance, was inspired by burrs that stick to your clothing. The "pull-tab" top on aluminum cans was originally patterned after a banana's peel.

10. Learn from Leonardo.: learning to juggle and drawing with your opposite hand.

11. Pay attention. Do you sometimes find yourself "forgetting" a person's name seconds after meeting her? The problem isn't memory; it's concentration. As we age, we must consciously remind ourselves to put information into our memory banks.

12. Listen to Mozart. An experimental psychologist has found evidence supporting the "Mozart Effect" -- that is, a brain exposed to Wolfgang's music grows more complex connections. This allows faster, integrated access to more information.

13. Exercise the body to improve the mind. An increasing cadre of researchers now believe aerobic workouts can increase everything from school performance to nerve conduction velocity. Suspected mechanisms: increased oxygen and nutrient supplied to the brain, plus a boost in natural compounds called neurotrophins, which promote brain cell growth. Some studies show mixed results. But exercise has so many other benefits that it definitely makes sense to do it.

14. Try something new. Near the end of his life, Impressionist painter Henri Matisse revitalized his art by exchanging brushes for scissors, which he used to create a series of brilliant paper cutouts. Such experimentation appears to be the hallmark of successful creativity, says psychologist Dean Keith Simonton, Ph.D., editor of the Journal of Creative Behavior. In a study that compared creative people who burn out with those who continue to create, he says, the chief difference was that the latter were constantly exposing themselves to new knowledge, in the process giving themselves a fresh start.

15. End distractions. If you're bombarded with irrelevant stimuli, it's hard to focus. When you absolutely must do something (complete a report, for instance), try renting a motel room where you can unplug the phone and concentrate.

And don't forget to follow your passion! Recently a Dutch psychologist tried to figure out what separated chess masters from chess grand masters. He subjected groups of each to a battery of tests -- IQ, memory, spatial reasoning. He found no testing difference between them. The only difference: Grand masters simply loved chess more. They had more passion and commitment to it. Passion may be the key to creativity.

Wednesday, August 16, 2006

On Memory and Reminiscence

WE have, in the next place, to treat of Memory and Remembering, considering its nature, its cause, and the part of the soul to which this experience, as well as that of Recollecting, belongs. For the persons who possess a retentive memory are not identical with those who excel in power of recollection; indeed, as a rule, slow people have a good memory, whereas those who are quick-witted and clever are better at recollecting.

We must first form a true conception of these objects of memory, a point on which mistakes are often made. Now to remember the future is not possible, but this is an object of opinion or expectation (and indeed there might be actually a science of expectation, like that of divination, in which some believe); nor is there memory of the present, but only sense-perception. For by the latter we know not the future, nor the past, but the present only. But memory relates to the past. No one would say that he remembers the present, when it is present, e.g. a given white object at the moment when he sees it; nor would one say that he remembers an object of scientific contemplation at the moment when he is actually contemplating it, and has it full before his mind;-of the former he would say only that he perceives it, of the latter only that he knows it. But when one has scientific knowledge, or perception, apart from the actualizations of the faculty concerned, he thus ‘remembers’ (that the angles of a triangle are together equal to two right angles); as to the former, that he learned it, or thought it out for himself, as to the latter, that he heard, or saw, it, or had some such sensible experience of it. For whenever one exercises the faculty of remembering, he must say within himself, ‘I formerly heard (or otherwise perceived) this,’ or ‘I formerly had this thought’.

Memory is, therefore, neither Perception nor Conception, but a state or affection of one of these, conditioned by lapse of time. As already observed, there is no such thing as memory of the present while present, for the present is object only of perception, and the future, of expectation, but the object of memory is the past. All memory, therefore, implies a time elapsed; consequently only those animals which perceive time remember, and the organ whereby they perceive time is also that whereby they remember.

The subject of ‘presentation’ has been already considered in our work On the Soul. Without a presentation intellectual activity is impossible. For there is in such activity an incidental affection identical with one also incidental in geometrical demonstrations. For in the latter case, though we do not for the purpose of the proof make any use of the fact that the quantity in the triangle (for example, which we have drawn) is determinate, we nevertheless draw it determinate in quantity. So likewise when one exerts the intellect (e.g. on the subject of first principles), although the object may not be quantitative, one envisages it as quantitative, though he thinks it in abstraction from quantity; while, on the other hand, if the object of the intellect is essentially of the class of things that are quantitative, but indeterminate, one envisages it as if it had determinate quantity, though subsequently, in thinking it, he abstracts from its determinateness. Why we cannot exercise the intellect on any object absolutely apart from the continuous, or apply it even to non-temporal things unless in connexion with time, is another question. Now, one must cognize magnitude and motion by means of the same faculty by which one cognizes time (i.e. by that which is also the faculty of memory), and the presentation (involved in such cognition) is an affection of the sensus communis; whence this follows, viz. that the cognition of these objects (magnitude, motion time) is effected by the (said sensus communis, i.e. the) primary faculty of perception. Accordingly, memory (not merely of sensible, but) even of intellectual objects involves a presentation: hence we may conclude that it belongs to the faculty of intelligence only incidentally, while directly and essentially it belongs to the primary faculty of sense-perception.

Hence not only human beings and the beings which possess opinion or intelligence, but also certain other animals, possess memory. If memory were a function of (pure) intellect, it would not have been as it is an attribute of many of the lower animals, but probably, in that case, no mortal beings would have had memory; since, even as the case stands, it is not an attribute of them all, just because all have not the faculty of perceiving time. Whenever one actually remembers having seen or heard, or learned, something, he includes in this act (as we have already observed) the consciousness of ‘formerly’; and the distinction of ‘former’ and ‘latter’ is a distinction in time.

Accordingly if asked, of which among the parts of the soul memory is a function, we reply: manifestly of that part to which ‘presentation’ appertains; and all objects capable of being presented (viz. aistheta) are immediately and properly objects of memory, while those (viz. noeta) which necessarily involve (but only involve) presentation are objects of memory incidentally.

One might ask how it is possible that though the affection (the presentation) alone is present, and the (related) fact absent, the latter-that which is not present-is remembered. (The question arises), because it is clear that we must conceive that which is generated through sense-perception in the sentient soul, and in the part of the body which is its seat-viz. that affection the state whereof we call memory-to be some such thing as a picture. The process of movement (sensory stimulation) involved the act of perception stamps in, as it were, a sort of impression of the percept, just as persons do who make an impression with a seal. This explains why, in those who are strongly moved owing to passion, or time of life, no mnemonic impression is formed; just as no impression would be formed if the movement of the seal were to impinge on running water; while there are others in whom, owing to the receiving surface being frayed, as happens to (the stucco on) old (chamber) walls, or owing to the hardness of the receiving surface, the requisite impression is not implanted at all. Hence both very young and very old persons are defective in memory; they are in a state of flux, the former because of their growth, the latter, owing to their decay. In like manner, also, both those who are too quick and those who are too slow have bad memories. The former are too soft, the latter too hard (in the texture of their receiving organs), so that in the case of the former the presented image (though imprinted) does not remain in the soul, while on the latter it is not imprinted at all.

But then, if this truly describes what happens in the genesis of memory, (the question stated above arises:) when one remembers, is it this impressed affection that he remembers, or is it the objective thing from which this was derived? If the former, it would follow that we remember nothing which is absent; if the latter, how is it possible that, though perceiving directly only the impression, we remember that absent thing which we do not perceive? Granted that there is in us something like an impression or picture, why should the perception of the mere impression be memory of something else, instead of being related to this impression alone? For when one actually remembers, this impression is what he contemplates, and this is what he perceives. How then does he remember what is not present? One might as well suppose it possible also to see or hear that which is not present. In reply, we suggest that this very thing is quite conceivable, nay, actually occurs in experience. A picture painted on a panel is at once a picture and a likeness: that is, while one and the same, it is both of these, although the ‘being’ of both is not the same, and one may contemplate it either as a picture, or as a likeness. Just in the same way we have to conceive that the mnemonic presentation within us is something which by itself is merely an object of contemplation, while, in-relation to something else, it is also a presentation of that other thing. In so far as it is regarded in itself, it is only an object of contemplation, or a presentation; but when considered as relative to something else, e.g. as its likeness, it is also a mnemonic token. Hence, whenever the residual sensory process implied by it is actualized in consciousness, if the soul perceives this in so far as it is something absolute, it appears to occur as a mere thought or presentation; but if the soul perceives it qua related to something else, then,-just as when one contemplates the painting in the picture as being a likeness, and without having (at the moment) seen the actual Koriskos, contemplates it as a likeness of Koriskos, and in that case the experience involved in this contemplation of it (as relative) is different from what one has when he contemplates it simply as a painted figure-(so in the case of memory we have the analogous difference for), of the objects in the soul, the one (the unrelated object) presents itself simply as a thought, but the other (the related object) just because, as in the painting, it is a likeness, presents itself as a mnemonic token.

We can now understand why it is that sometimes, when we have such processes, based on some former act of perception, occurring in the soul, we do not know whether this really implies our having had perceptions corresponding to them, and we doubt whether the case is or is not one of memory. But occasionally it happens that (while thus doubting) we get a sudden idea and recollect that we heard or saw something formerly. This (occurrence of the ‘sudden idea’) happens whenever, from contemplating a mental object as absolute, one changes his point of view, and regards it as relative to something else.

The opposite (sc. to the case of those who at first do not recognize their phantasms as mnemonic) also occurs, as happened in the cases of Antipheron of Oreus and others suffering from mental derangement; for they were accustomed to speak of their mere phantasms as facts of their past experience, and as if remembering them. This takes place whenever one contemplates what is not a likeness as if it were a likeness.

Mnemonic exercises aim at preserving one’s memory of something by repeatedly reminding him of it; which implies nothing else (on the learner’s part) than the frequent contemplation of something (viz. the ‘mnemonic’, whatever it may be) as a likeness, and not as out of relation.

As regards the question, therefore, what memory or remembering is, it has now been shown that it is the state of a presentation, related as a likeness to that of which it is a presentation; and as to the question of which of the faculties within us memory is a function, (it has been shown) that it is a function of the primary faculty of sense-perception, i.e. of that faculty whereby we perceive time.

2

Next comes the subject of Recollection, in dealing with which we must assume as fundamental the truths elicited above in our introductory discussions. For recollection is not the ‘recovery’ or ‘acquisition’ of memory; since at the instant when one at first learns (a fact of science) or experiences (a particular fact of sense), he does not thereby ‘recover’ a memory, inasmuch as none has preceded, nor does he acquire one ab initio. It is only at the instant when the aforesaid state or affection (of the aisthesis or upolepsis) is implanted in the soul that memory exists, and therefore memory is not itself implanted concurrently with the continuous implantation of the (original) sensory experience.

Further: at the very individual and concluding instant when first (the sensory experience or scientific knowledge) has been completely implanted, there is then already established in the person affected the (sensory) affection, or the scientific knowledge (if one ought to apply the term ‘scientific knowledge’ to the (mnemonic) state or affection; and indeed one may well remember, in the ‘incidental’ sense, some of the things (i.e. ta katholou) which are properly objects of scientific knowledge); but to remember, strictly and properly speaking, is an activity which will not be immanent until the original experience has undergone lapse of time. For one remembers now what one saw or otherwise experienced formerly; the moment of the original experience and the moment of the memory of it are never identical.

Again, (even when time has elapsed, and one can be said really to have acquired memory, this is not necessarily recollection, for firstly) it is obviously possible, without any present act of recollection, to remember as a continued consequence of the original perception or other experience; whereas when (after an interval of obliviscence) one recovers some scientific knowledge which he had before, or some perception, or some other experience, the state of which we above declared to be memory, it is then, and then only, that this recovery may amount to a recollection of any of the things aforesaid. But, (though as observed above, remembering does not necessarily imply recollecting), recollecting always implies remembering, and actualized memory follows (upon the successful act of recollecting).

But secondly, even the assertion that recollection is the reinstatement in consciousness of something which was there before but had disappeared requires qualification. This assertion may be true, but it may also be false; for the same person may twice learn (from some teacher), or twice discover (i.e. excogitate), the same fact. Accordingly, the act of recollecting ought (in its definition) to be distinguished from these acts; i.e. recollecting must imply in those who recollect the presence of some spring over and above that from which they originally learn.

Acts of recollection, as they occur in experience, are due to the fact that one movement has by nature another that succeeds it in regular order.

If this order be necessary, whenever a subject experiences the former of two movements thus connected, it will (invariably) experience the latter; if, however, the order be not necessary, but customary, only in the majority of cases will the subject experience the latter of the two movements. But it is a fact that there are some movements, by a single experience of which persons take the impress of custom more deeply than they do by experiencing others many times; hence upon seeing some things but once we remember them better than others which we may have been frequently.

Whenever therefore, we are recollecting, we are experiencing certain of the antecedent movements until finally we experience the one after which customarily comes that which we seek. This explains why we hunt up the series (of kineseis) having started in thought either from a present intuition or some other, and from something either similar, or contrary, to what we seek, or else from that which is contiguous with it. Such is the empirical ground of the process of recollection; for the mnemonic movements involved in these starting-points are in some cases identical, in others, again, simultaneous, with those of the idea we seek, while in others they comprise a portion of them, so that the remnant which one experienced after that portion (and which still requires to be excited in memory) is comparatively small.

Thus, then, it is that persons seek to recollect, and thus, too, it is that they recollect even without the effort of seeking to do so, viz. when the movement implied in recollection has supervened on some other which is its condition. For, as a rule, it is when antecedent movements of the classes here described have first been excited, that the particular movement implied in recollection follows. We need not examine a series of which the beginning and end lie far apart, in order to see how (by recollection) we remember; one in which they lie near one another will serve equally well. For it is clear that the method is in each case the same, that is, one hunts up the objective series, without any previous search or previous recollection. For (there is, besides the natural order, viz. the order of the pralmata, or events of the primary experience, also a customary order, and) by the effect of custom the mnemonic movements tend to succeed one another in a certain order. Accordingly, therefore, when one wishes to recollect, this is what he will do: he will try to obtain a beginning of movement whose sequel shall be the movement which he desires to reawaken. This explains why attempts at recollection succeed soonest and best when they start from a beginning (of some objective series). For, in order of succession, the mnemonic movements are to one another as the objective facts (from which they are derived). Accordingly, things arranged in a fixed order, like the successive demonstrations in geometry, are easy to remember (or recollect) while badly arranged subjects are remembered with difficulty.

Recollecting differs also in this respect from relearning, that one who recollects will be able, somehow, to move, solely by his own effort, to the term next after the starting-point. When one cannot do this of himself, but only by external assistance, he no longer remembers (i.e. he has totally forgotten, and therefore of course cannot recollect). It often happens that, though a person cannot recollect at the moment, yet by seeking he can do so, and discovers what he seeks. This he succeeds in doing by setting up many movements, until finally he excites one of a kind which will have for its sequel the fact he wishes to recollect. For remembering (which is the condicio sine qua non of recollecting) is the existence, potentially, in the mind of a movement capable of stimulating it to the desired movement, and this, as has been said, in such a way that the person should be moved (prompted to recollection) from within himself, i.e. in consequence of movements wholly contained within himself.

But one must get hold of a starting-point. This explains why it is that persons are supposed to recollect sometimes by starting from mnemonic loci. The cause is that they pass swiftly in thought from one point to another, e.g. from milk to white, from white to mist, and thence to moist, from which one remembers Autumn (the ‘season of mists’), if this be the season he is trying to recollect.

It seems true in general that the middle point also among all things is a good mnemonic starting-point from which to reach any of them. For if one does not recollect before, he will do so when he has come to this, or, if not, nothing can help him; as, e.g. if one were to have in mind the numerical series denoted by the symbols A, B, G, D, E, Z, I, H, O. For, if he does not remember what he wants at E, then at E he remembers O; because from E movement in either direction is possible, to D or to Z. But, if it is not for one of these that he is searching, he will remember (what he is searching for) when he has come to G if he is searching for H or I. But if (it is) not (for H or I that he is searching, but for one of the terms that remain), he will remember by going to A, and so in all cases (in which one starts from a middle point). The cause of one’s sometimes recollecting and sometimes not, though starting from the same point, is, that from the same starting-point a movement can be made in several directions, as, for instance, from G to I or to D. If, then, the mind has not (when starting from E) moved in an old path (i.e. one in which it moved first having the objective experience, and that, therefore, in which un-’ethized’ phusis would have it again move), it tends to move to the more customary; for (the mind having, by chance or otherwise, missed moving in the ‘old’ way) Custom now assumes the role of Nature. Hence the rapidity with which we recollect what we frequently think about. For as regular sequence of events is in accordance with nature, so, too, regular sequence is observed in the actualization of kinesis (in consciousness), and here frequency tends to produce (the regularity of) nature. And since in the realm of nature occurrences take place which are even contrary to nature, or fortuitous, the same happens a fortiori in the sphere swayed by custom, since in this sphere natural law is not similarly established. Hence it is that (from the same starting-point) the mind receives an impulse to move sometimes in the required direction, and at other times otherwise, (doing the latter) particularly when something else somehow deflects the mind from the right direction and attracts it to itself. This last consideration explains too how it happens that, when we want to remember a name, we remember one somewhat like it, indeed, but blunder in reference to (i.e. in pronouncing) the one we intended.

Thus, then, recollection takes place.

But the point of capital importance is that (for the purpose of recollection) one should cognize, determinately or indeterminately, the time-relation (of that which he wishes to recollect). There is,-let it be taken as a fact,-something by which one distinguishes a greater and a smaller time; and it is reasonable to think that one does this in a way analogous to that in which one discerns (spacial) magnitudes. For it is not by the mind’s reaching out towards them, as some say a visual ray from the eye does (in seeing), that one thinks of large things at a distance in space (for even if they are not there, one may similarly think them); but one does so by a proportionate mental movement. For there are in the mind the like figures and movements (i.e. ‘like’ to those of objects and events). Therefore, when one thinks the greater objects, in what will his thinking those differ from his thinking the smaller? (In nothing,) because all the internal though smaller are as it were proportional to the external. Now, as we may assume within a person something proportional to the forms (of distant magnitudes), so, too, we may doubtless assume also something else proportional to their distances. As, therefore, if one has (psychically) the movement in AB, BE, he constructs in thought (i.e. knows objectively) GD, since AG and GD bear equal ratios respectively (to AB and BE), (so he who recollects also proceeds). Why then does he construct GD rather than ZH? Is it not because as AG is to AB, so is O to I? These movements therefore (sc. in AB, BE, and in O:I) he has simultaneously. But if he wishes to construct to thought ZH, he has in mind BE in like manner as before (when constructing GD), but now, instead of (the movements of the ratio) O:I, he has in mind (those of the ratio K:L; for K:L::ZA:BA. (See diagram.)

When, therefore, the ‘movement’ corresponding to the object and that corresponding to its time concur, then one actually remembers. If one supposes (himself to move in these different but concurrent ways) without really doing so, he supposes himself to remember.

For one may be mistaken, and think that he remembers when he really does not. But it is not possible, conversely, that when one actually remembers he should not suppose himself to remember, but should remember unconsciously. For remembering, as we have conceived it, essentially implies consciousness of itself. If, however, the movement corresponding to the objective fact takes place without that corresponding to the time, or, if the latter takes place without the former, one does not remember.

The movement answering to the time is of two kinds. Sometimes in remembering a fact one has no determinate time-notion of it, no such notion as that e.g. he did something or other on the day before yesterday; while in other cases he has a determinate notion-of the time. Still, even though one does not remember with actual determination of the time, he genuinely remembers, none the less. Persons are wont to say that they remember (something), but yet do not know when (it occurred, as happens) whenever they do not know determinately the exact length of time implied in the ‘when’.

It has been already stated that those who have a good memory are not identical with those who are quick at recollecting. But the act of recollecting differs from that of remembering, not only chronologically, but also in this, that many also of the other animals (as well as man) have memory, but, of all that we are acquainted with, none, we venture to say, except man, shares in the faculty of recollection. The cause of this is that recollection is, as it were a mode of inference. For he who endeavours to recollect infers that he formerly saw, or heard, or had some such experience, and the process (by which he succeeds in recollecting) is, as it were, a sort of investigation. But to investigate in this way belongs naturally to those animals alone which are also endowed with the faculty of deliberation; (which proves what was said above), for deliberation is a form of inference.

That the affection is corporeal, i.e. that recollection is a searching for an ‘image’ in a corporeal substrate, is proved by the fact that in some persons, when, despite the most strenuous application of thought, they have been unable to recollect, it (viz. the anamnesis = the effort at recollection) excites a feeling of discomfort, which, even though they abandon the effort at recollection, persists in them none the less; and especially in persons of melancholic temperament. For these are most powerfully moved by presentations. The reason why the effort of recollection is not under the control of their will is that, as those who throw a stone cannot stop it at their will when thrown, so he who tries to recollect and ‘hunts’ (after an idea) sets up a process in a material part, (that) in which resides the affection. Those who have moisture around that part which is the centre of sense-perception suffer most discomfort of this kind. For when once the moisture has been set in motion it is not easily brought to rest, until the idea which was sought for has again presented itself, and thus the movement has found a straight course. For a similar reason bursts of anger or fits of terror, when once they have excited such motions, are not at once allayed, even though the angry or terrified persons (by efforts of will) set up counter motions, but the passions continue to move them on, in the same direction as at first, in opposition to such counter motions. The affection resembles also that in the case of words, tunes, or sayings, whenever one of them has become inveterate on the lips. People give them up and resolve to avoid them; yet again they find themselves humming the forbidden air, or using the prohibited word. Those whose upper parts are abnormally large, as. is the case with dwarfs, have abnormally weak memory, as compared with their opposites, because of the great weight which they have resting upon the organ of perception, and because their mnemonic movements are, from the very first, not able to keep true to a course, but are dispersed, and because, in the effort at recollection, these movements do not easily find a direct onward path. Infants and very old persons have bad memories, owing to the amount of movement going on within them; for the latter are in process of rapid decay, the former in process of vigorous growth; and we may add that children, until considerably advanced in years, are dwarf-like in their bodily structure. Such then is our theory as regards memory and remembering their nature, and the particular organ of the soul by which animals remember; also as regards recollection, its formal definition, and the manner and causes-of its performance.

Friday, August 04, 2006

Atma aur Manovigyan :According to Aristotle

Soul is defined as the perfect expression or realization of a natural body. From this definition it follows that there is a close connection between psychological states, and physiological processes. Body and soul are unified in the same way that wax and an impression stamped on it are unified. Metaphysicians before Aristotle discussed the soul abstractly without any regard to the bodily environment; this, Aristotle believes, was a mistake. At the same time, Aristotle regards the soul or mind not as the product of the physiological conditions of the body, but as the truth of the body -- the substance in which only the bodily conditions gain their real meaning.

The soul manifests its activity in certain "faculties" or "parts" which correspond with the stages of biological development, and are the faculties of nutrition (peculiar to plants), that of movement (peculiar to animals), and that of reason (peculiar to humans). These faculties resemble mathematical figures in which the higher includes the lower, and must be understood not as like actual physical parts, but like such aspects as convex and concave which we distinguish in the same line. The mind remains throughout a unity: and it is absurd to speak of it, as Plato did, as desiring with one part and feeling anger with another. Sense perception is a faculty of receiving the forms of outward objects independently of the matter of which they are composed, just as the wax takes on the figure of the seal without the gold or other metal of which the seal is composed. As the subject of impression, perception involves a movement and a kind of qualitative change; but perception is not merely a passive or receptive affection. It in turn acts, and, distinguishing between the qualities of outward things, becomes "a movement of the soul through the medium of the body."

The objects of the senses may be either (1) special, (such as color is the special object of sight, and sound of hearing), (2) common, or apprehended by several senses in combination (such as motion or figure), or (3) incidental or inferential (such as when from the immediate sensation of white we come to know a person or object which is white). There are five special senses. Of these, touch is the must rudimentary, hearing the most instructive, and sight the most ennobling. The organ in these senses never acts directly , but is affected by some medium such as air. Even touch, which seems to act by actual contact, probably involves some vehicle of communication. For Aristotle, the heart is the common or central sense organ. It recognizes the common qualities which are involved in all particular objects of sensation. It is, first, the sense which brings us a consciousness of sensation. Secondly, in one act before the mind, it holds up the objects of our knowledge and enables us to distinguish between the reports of different senses.

Aristotle defines the imagination as "the movement which results upon an actual sensation." In other words, it is the process by which an impression of the senses is pictured and retained before the mind, and is accordingly the basis of memory. The representative pictures which it provides form the materials of reason. Illusions and dreams are both alike due to an excitement in the organ of sense similar to that which would be caused by the actual presence of the sensible phenomenon. Memory is defined as the permanent possession of the sensuous picture as a copy which represents the object of which it is a picture. Recollection, or the calling back to mind the residue of memory, depends on the laws which regulate the association of our ideas. We trace the associations by starting with the thought of the object present to us, then considering what is similar, contrary or contiguous.

Reason is the source of the first principles of knowledge. Reason is opposed to the sense insofar as sensations are restricted and individual, and thought is free and universal. Also, while the senses deals with the concrete and material aspect of phenomena, reason deals with the abstract and ideal aspects. But while reason is in itself the source of general ideas, it is so only potentially. For, it arrives at them only by a process of development in which it gradually clothes sense in thought, and unifies and interprets sense-presentations. This work of reason in thinking beings suggests the question: How can immaterial thought come to receive material things? It is only possible in virtue of some community between thought and things. Aristotle recognizes an active reason which makes objects of thought. This is distinguished from passive reason which receives, combines and compares the objects of thought. Active reason makes the world intelligible, and bestows on the materials of knowledge those ideas or categories which make them accessible to thought. This is just as the sun communicates to material objects that light, without which color would be invisible, and sight would have no object. Hence reason is the constant support of an intelligible world. While assigning reason to the soul of humans, Aristotle describes it as coming from without, and almost seems to identify it with God as the eternal and omnipresent thinker. Even in humans, in short, reason realizes something of the essential characteristic of absolute thought -- the unity of thought as subject with thought as object.

Tuesday, August 01, 2006

Mind Management in Everyday Life

The mind is a subject which has to be analyzed in relation to our day-to-day activities, because whatever is said about the mind as theory simply develops into a concept and a philosophy. Yoga has certain ideas as to how the mind functions. It has defined mind as manas, the process of reflection, buddhi, the process of intellect, chitta, memory, and ahamkara, the ego principle. Many books have been written on these four subjects, but no one is quite clear as to how the mind interacts in life, and we only have our personal experiences to go by.
We can observe the various aspects of the mind and how they manifest without trying to define the mind. In every individual's life we can see a very beautiful process: something subtle in the form of an idea, a desire and a thought manifesting and implementing itself at the gross level. There is an intimate link between our subtle nature (the mind), the other nature which is more subtle than the mind (consciousness) and our life (the visible world of objects and senses). There is a flow of information which comes from consciousness to the mind and into the body; the body is simply a medium through which the mind expresses itself.
Therefore, it is important that we do not differentiate between the thinking nature and the acting instrument, which is the body. We have to see it as the flow of one stream of an idea, coming from the subtle invisible to the manifest visible. For example, an idea evolves at the deepest levels of our nature; that idea later on becomes a desire; the desire later on creates a plan of action, and that plan of action is later on implemented by the senses, the body.
So, we have a concept, which is related with the ahamkara aspect, the ego principle or the 'I' identity. All concepts in life generate from this dimension of 'I' identity, the nature of individuality. Later on, this concept, which evolves at the level of the 'I' identity, filters down to the lower levels of the mind: the intellect, the memory and the reflective processes, and is identified as a desire or a need. This desire or need is then linked with our aspirations, our strengths and our weaknesses, and it takes a definite form for the fulfilment of the vacuum that we feel when we reflect on ourselves.
What is a desire? Desire simply means a wish to attain something that we find lacking at present in our life. How do we identify what is lacking in our life? An intricate process of analysis happens at the unconscious level where the subtle mind, the ego principle, observes and analyzes the needs and the absence of something which we try to fulfil later on in the course of our lives. The concept is converted into desire, desire is converted into a need, the need is converted into an action, and the action is converted into a result. In this process, the consciousness, mind, senses and body work as one integrated unit. At present there is no direction to this flow of mental energy, there is no control over the chan-nelization of the mental forces which manifest in the body. There is internal confusion. There is psychological confusion. There is unconscious confusion. But we are not aware of this internal confusion until it comes to the forefront of our manifest conscious mind.
Modern psychology says there is the conscious mind, the subconscious mind and the unconscious mind. Yoga says there is the active mind, the passive mind and the dormant mind. The active mind is linked with the conscious mind, the passive mind is linked with the subconscious mind and the dormant mind is linked with the unconscious mind. But beyond this there is another state of super-mind, or awakened mind, where there is no differentiation or distinction between the different aspects of the mind such as manas, buddhi, chitta and ahamkara. Whatever state of mind we talk about, we have to know whether it is the unconscious state, the subconscious state or the conscious state.

SWAN principle


There are certain principles which actually guide the desires, aspirations and motivations. In yoga these principles are known as the SWAN principle. SWAN is an acronym: S stands for strengths, W stands for weaknesses, A stands for ambitions and N stands for needs. These are the four principles that make up our personality. In some people, inner strength, mental strength, strength of will or the strength of the self is predominant. In some people, weaknesses such as lack of willpower or mental clarity are predominant. Some people identify more deeply with their ambitions and aspirations and try to fulfil and attain them. Some people identify more deeply with their needs, which are physical or social, in relation to their family, work performance and society.
It is the expression of either strengths, weaknesses, ambitions or needs which defines our personality and makes us what we are today. When we are able to project the strength of the self (not the higher Self but the self which is contained in this personality combining our knowledge, mind, senses and our ability to become part of the whole picture), when the self is manifesting at the level of strength, then a particular nature is defined in an individual. We say that person is very great, creative, dynamic, outgoing, compassionate, has a clear mind, is helpful, and is a guide to many people. People derive inspiration when they come in contact with such a personality.

When the self expresses itself through the area of weakness, we identify that person as unclear or weak, without force, energy, strength or dynamism, as uncertain and unsure. When the self is manifesting at the level of ambitions and aspirations, we identify that person as being ruthless and arrogant, as trying to get his or her way at the expense of others, and as uncaring. When the self is manifesting in the dimension of need, then we identify that person as being self-centred, as only making an effort to look after his or her self, and as uncaring.