Every theory begins with axioms — it’s unavoidable (albeit often unstated). An axiom is an idea accepted as valid, truthful, and/or Real, despite being unproven and unprovable. Axioms are part of the foundation from which a theory can take off.
Since axioms are unprovable, the number of axioms a theory utilizes is inversely related to its reliability — the more axioms a theory utilizes, the less reliable it is, and vice versa, fewer axioms bode well for the theory’s soundness. The theory presented in this work is founded on three axioms, which I think is an acceptable number.
As the definition states, axioms are unprovable; yet, as my patients taught me, they’re non-negotiable. Over the years, it became clear to me that if a patient and I didn’t agree on any one of three axioms, the therapy was doomed to fail. Once I got it, I started every new therapy by reviewing the three axioms to ensure we were on the same page.
The first two axioms rarely engendered a disagreement. Occasionally, I encountered a disagreement over the third one — the existence of free will.
As I see it, psychotherapy is ultimately a learning process designed to promote making better choices. Consequently, in a Reality that doesn’t offer freedom of choice, there’s no point in psychotherapy. Hence, when a new patient and I disagreed about the existence of ‘free will,’ we hit an impasse. (In these rare instances, I’d make an effort to convince the patient to reconsider their position; if that wasn’t acceptable, it would mark the end of the therapy. Regrettable, but better sooner in the process than later.)
The three axioms this work is based on are the following:
- There is at least one Reality.
- Reality is a process.
- Humans have freedom of choice.
Let’s explore them in some detail.
Axiom 1: There is at least one Reality
The first axiom immediately triggers several consequences. For example, given that there is at least one Reality, there must be ‘space’ — a place for that Reality to take place. Another consequence is that, given that there is at least one Reality, there is an objective Truth.
[Sidebar: Throughout this work, ‘Reality’ (capitalized) refers to objective Reality as it exists independently of any observer, while ‘reality’ (lowercase) refers to the subjective version of it that appears in an individual’s consciousness.]
Connecting with the Truth (to a small or a large extent) requires an undistorted appreciation of some (small or large, respectively) part of Reality. Whether or not we are capable of an undistorted appreciation of Reality may be a matter of debate, but not its existence (i.e., axiomatically, it exists).
Reality, as we ultimately perceive it, is data picked up by various sensory systems, edited, and presented in consciousness. This processed data appears as two types: ‘real’ and ‘not real.’ Real data captures Reality accurately — as it (“really”) is. Data that is not real — due to receptor limitations or distortion introduced by the editing process — is not recognized as such. Consequently, subjectively, we don’t distinguish between the two types, although the distinction is critical.
In principle, every participant in a given Reality would have the exact same perception of real data — if they share the exact point of view, use identical data-gathering devices, and refrain from corrupting or altering the data in their editing processes. Since it is impossible to meet these conditions, we have to rely on approximations. Approximations apparently suffice, at least for practical purposes, given that the vast majority of the time we are able to cooperate productively, which can be considered evidence in support of the assumption that we indeed share the same Reality.
Not real data appears in consciousness as a product of imagination, the material of dreams, or the result of faulty editing (due to ignorance, illusions, and delusions).
Failure to distinguish between real and not real data undermines functioning in reality in general, and the pursuit of happiness in particular.
This became very clear to me over the years, repeatedly witnessing patients grasping onto data that was not real (i.e., imagined, illusionary, delusionary, or poorly edited material), insisting that it was real — despite it derailing their pursuit of happiness (which was frustratingly obvious from my position on the sidelines). Clinically, the issues behind this phenomenon exist on a spectrum that ranges from relatively benign immaturity to chronic, untreatable psychological, psychiatric, and medical diagnoses. The one feature common to all these presentations is an insistence that the not real is real.
Most, if not all, of the material in consciousness is composed of some combination of real and not real data. It is an unavoidable limitation of human consciousness that we generally manage to overlook (perhaps a necessity, for practical purposes). Consequently, we typically operate with the conviction that the subjective reality we experience is all real. In other words, we tend to consider the reality that appears in our consciousness to be an accurate and comprehensive depiction of the objective ‘Reality.’
We attribute great importance to the notion that our take on reality is accurate, i.e., to ‘being right.’ This makes sense in the pursuit of survival — in the survival arena, being right supports staying alive, and ‘being wrong’ can result in one’s termination.
In the pursuit of happiness, the stakes of being wrong are radically different. The pursuit of happiness is not about an outcome but about a process; being wrong does not threaten the process — it advances it. By being wrong, one (ideally, eventually) learns what one must know to move toward enlightenment. Being wrong is not just tolerable; it is, arguably, necessary. Understanding this makes it easier to tolerate not being right and supports maintaining an ‘open mind’ and learning — which are critical to pursuing happiness effectively. Conversely, a rigid attachment to the validity of one’s perceptions (i.e., to being right) has more costs than benefits — an example of unrecognized carryover from one process to the other.
Axiom 2: Reality is a process
The second axiom also immediately triggers several consequences. Most obviously, it necessitates the existence of time. Given that Reality is a process, it unfolds with a ‘before’ and an ‘after,’ which requires the existence of time.
A ‘process’ is defined as a series of events governed by a single rule (or a single set of rules). Hence, the realization that reality is a process is the same as the realization of the existence of universal laws. These universal rules governing reality are referred to as ‘the Laws of Nature’ (the existence of which is generally non-controversial).
As it is a process, the pursuit of happiness is governed by specific rules. This work attempts first to delineate (some of) these natural laws (in the Theory section), followed by a set of mental exercises (in the Practice section) designed to cultivate behaviors based on these rules.
Events that are not governed by a shared rule (or set of rules) are perceived by our brain as random events (relative to one another); as such, they register in consciousness as meaningless. Random events become non-random — and thus meaningful — once their governing operational rules are uncovered, which reveals their ‘before and after’ order.
The human brain is considered by many neuroscientists to be a pattern-recognition device. Patterns are created when events obey a rule (or a set of rules). When the brain recognizes a pattern — i.e., when reality ‘makes sense’ or has meaning — it elicits a positive sensation.
As presented in the Meaning chapter, the human brain is primarily a meaning-dependent device. Consequently, an efficient pursuit of happiness requires that reality have a discoverable meaning (i.e., that it makes sense). Therefore, when ‘things don’t make sense,’ it elicits distress because it is incompatible with an effective pursuit of happiness (or survival).
Axiom 3: There is free will
The third axiom touches on an ancient controversy — the existence of free will. I prefer to avoid the debate — it’s unlikely we’ll succeed in resolving it where countless generations of deep thinkers failed. To circumvent it, I suggest that if you don’t believe humans have free will or the freedom to make choices, you stop reading at this point.
If you are still reading (sure, you could be predetermined to do so…), you share my conviction that there is free will and that the meaning of any human pursuit, including happiness, depends on — and is only worth exploring — given the existence of this free will. The extent of free will may be microscopic, but it has to exist to some degree for this discussion to have meaning and purpose (even a deterministic universe leaves room for this — the freedom in question is not freedom from causality, but the capacity to deliberate and choose among available options).
Many of the laws of nature follow a pattern (as discussed in the Laws chapter) in which the law is excluded from its own governance. For example, ‘Nothing is permanent but impermanence,’ ‘All pain is felt in the brain and the brain feels no pain,’ and ‘We are all the same and each of us is unique.’ Freedom of choice follows this pattern in that ‘Freedom of choice is not a matter of freedom of choice.’ In other words, whether free will exists or not, we cannot choose to have it or not have it. It is predetermined; hence, freedom of choice is not a matter of freedom of choice.
To be clear, free will is not unbounded (Thanks, Dr. GF). As discussed in the Pain, Suffering, and Misery chapter, we do not have the freedom to choose not to suffer, nor do we have the freedom to choose to be happy. But (at least some of the time) we do have the freedom to choose how we suffer.
In reality, the ‘going’ (from one moment to the next) is not an option. It is a must. How we go is where we have options and, therefore, the freedom of choice.
Going mindfully begins with refraining from exerting negative influence, the importance of which cannot be overstated (nonetheless, I try to do so in the ‘First Order of Business’ chapter). Only after this is accomplished can one attempt to exert positive influence over any aspect of one’s journey — particularly over the pursuit of happiness.
[Sidebar: The Simpsons, in my opinion, is a source of endless wisdom. In the “Hurricane Neddy” episode (Season 8, Episode 8), Mr. Flanders is admitted to Springfield’s psychiatric hospital (Calmwood Mental Hospital) after having a breakdown. At the end of the admission interview, the nurse asks him: ‘Shall I show you to your room, or would you prefer to be dragged off kicking and screaming?’ Ned responds: ‘Ooh, kicking and screaming, please.’
This vignette captures something central to the human condition: The going is a must (as I said above). Our (very limited) freedom of choice may come down to these two options: We can choose to go calmly — mindfully, and refrain from making matters worse — or we can choose the alternative — to go ‘kicking and screaming’.
Both options have an upside and a downside (which are reviewed in detail elsewhere). Going calmly is clearly more compatible with pursuing happiness effectively — in and of itself a good enough reason to invest in practicing and developing mindfulness.]
REFERENCES
Friston, K. (2010). The free-energy principle: A unified brain theory? Nature Reviews Neuroscience, 11(2), 127–138. https://doi.org/10.1038/nrn2787
Hawkins, J., & Blakeslee, S. (2004). On intelligence. Times Books.
In choosing how we suffer . Is the question we should ask ourselves during the suffering of pain . #1 we can choose to get involved in the pain trying to control it . Or #2 we can choose to look at the pain as an outsider we are aware of the pain. but we do not let it control all of us. so we can still maintain some peace and happiness knowing it is just pain and it to will go away.
The second option is the mindful way.