Speaking at UCLA (1973)

Summary

The talk presents a broad philosophical and spiritual reflection on why existence itself feels strange and how human beings try to understand it through language, concepts, and cultural systems. The speaker begins with the idea that a philosopher is someone who is puzzled by the fact that anything exists at all. He argues that people are trained by culture to translate reality into words and numbers, and that universities exist largely to refine this translation process. He then questions the modern assumption that the world is fundamentally “physical,” tracing the word material back through Latin, Greek, and Sanskrit roots to suggest that matter is better understood as form, structure, or measure rather than as some solid underlying substance. A major theme is the critique of inherited Western images of reality. The speaker contrasts the older Christian and Jewish image of a supervising “big daddy” God with the modern mechanical universe of particles, randomness, and impersonal processes. He suggests that both are mythological frameworks, and that the mechanical worldview often functions as a substitute religion for people who want to reject divine supervision while still holding onto a dramatic, heroic view of life as meaningless struggle. Against this, he introduces Buddhism, especially the doctrine of shunyata, or emptiness, which he presents not as nihilism but as the insight that emptiness and form are inseparable. He uses the Buddhist formula “form is emptiness, emptiness is form” to argue that clarity and openness allow the world to appear in detail, just as clear air reveals visible forms. The talk then turns into a practical meditation instruction. The speaker describes jhana, yoga, Zen, and related disciplines as methods of stopping the internal habit of naming and interpreting everything. He invites listeners to hear sounds without labeling them, to notice breath without forcing it, and to rest in direct awareness without seeking a future result. This state is described as tathata, or “suchness,” meaning simple presence without conceptual overlay. He emphasizes that meditation is not about blankness or suppression, but about vivid awareness without compulsive inner commentary. A central philosophical section concerns identity. In response to a question, the speaker distinguishes between two meanings of identity: the separate ego identity that education and social conditioning build up, and the deeper mystical identity in which the self realizes its unity with the whole universe. He argues that these two are not opposites. The first is necessary for ordinary functioning, but the second is more fundamental and resembles the infant’s original undivided experience, which Freud called the oceanic feeling. Sanity, in his view, requires holding both together: being a distinct person while also knowing oneself as an expression of the whole. He warns that forgetting this deeper identity leads to spiritual and psychological distortion, including the urge to become god through effort rather than recognizing one’s already existing participation in divinity. The speaker also discusses death as a necessary counterpart to life and individuality. Drawing on Norman Brown, he suggests that death gives shape to individuality and that one should think of death not only as a future event but as a kind of background condition that makes life intelligible. He argues that void and form, death and life, emptiness and presence all belong together. This insight is not meant to produce passivity; rather, it can support effective action. He says that one must first realize that “it doesn’t matter” in order to work well, because anxiety and over-identification make action clumsy. He uses the example of a surgeon who must remain calm and detached in order to operate skillfully. In the same way, social and political work becomes more effective when it is not driven by desperate self-importance. The final part of the talk emphasizes interreligious common ground. The speaker recounts a conference at a Benedictine monastery where participants practiced Sufi chanting, the Jesus Prayer, Zen zazen, yoga, and Catholic liturgy together. He presents this as evidence that the great religious traditions share a common experiential core beyond doctrinal differences. He also discusses Christianity in this light, arguing that Jesus Christ can be understood as a realized person whose consciousness reflected the same divine identity found in other traditions. He interprets a passage from Philippians as a description of self-emptying rather than a claim to superiority. He concludes that the deepest level of religion lies beyond words, in direct experience of what is, and that this is what the talk has been trying to point toward all along.