The Beauty of Imperfection

When you go looking for them, signs of subtle imperfection are all around. For this, I am very grateful.

I wouldn't recommend this search for people under the delusion of permanence, the idea that with enough effort and luck it would be possible (at least for a short time) to get everything just right, and then (and only then) to be able to be happy and relaxed. Such people are going to get frustrated and discouraged when they keep bumping up against imperfection. But people who are a little more aware of the Dharma understand that the imperfection is already perfect. The flaw lies not with the "imperfect" situation, but lies in our relationship to it - how we feel about it. To repeat myself: the imperfection is already perfect.

That's not meant to be some trite pop culture "Zen paradox". It's a simple observation of how things are when one has a more encompassing understanding of perfection. We are given a great practice opportunity to hold in awareness our desire and expectation of "perfection", and our inability to see the perfection that the world offers up every moment. Don't waste this! Everything is teaching, all the time.

Without any help from us, every snowflake falls in exactly the right place.

This recognition and appreciation of imperfection runs counter to Western aesthetic ideals informed by ancient Greeks like Pythagoras, and can feel defeatist when you are strongly attached to "perfection". But it is well-represented in other aesthetic traditions, such as Japanese wabi sabi.

Wabi. The beauty of thusness. The lone simplicity and quietude of the remote natural world. Freshness and understatement. The maker's mark. Imperfection of design and construction. The quirky input of path dependence. The uniqueness of the thing in itself. Suchness.

Sabi. The beauty of age and experience. Serenity in the face of wear and tear. Imperfection of usage and reliability. Growth and decline in the fullness of life. The quirky outcome of paths chosen. Wisdom embodied through practice.

Well-crafted and enjoyed by many, wood returns whence it came.

Musical Commas

For those who see what I'm pointing at, actively searching out "imperfection" can actually be a satisfying source of beauty and delight. And, since there's so much of it in the world, it becomes a rich and reliable source of happiness. Let me share an example from the world of music, which I find delightful. Maybe you will too.

Pythagoras was one of the first to take clear notice of the relationship between geometry and musical harmony. He was a great believer in the perfection of the world and in the ability to see this perfection by representing the world in geometric simplicity. The simplest example of geometry and music is the octave. If you stretch a string (always of a particular thickness, and at a particular tension) over a particular length and then pluck it, it will vibrate and produce a single note. If you then do the same but over a length exactly half of what you did before, the string will now produce a note exactly one octave higher. The simple ratio of 1:2 produces notes an octave apart. If you divide the string at different lengths (instead of the midpoint) you produce other different notes. If the ratios of lengths are carefully chosen to be ratios of small numbers, the notes produced will be in other pleasant musical intervals. For example, the ratio of 2:3 produces notes that are a perfect fifth apart (think of the opening notes of Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star). The ratio of 3:4 produces an interval of a perfect fourth (the opening notes of Amazing Grace). And so on in beautifully consonant and harmonious intervals. So far, so good. Simple geometric ratios, pleasant sonorous harmonies. Close to perfection, yeah?

If you can produce a perfect fifth, you can then apply the same 2:3 trick to the new note to produce a third note that is a perfect fifth above that. For example, starting with C, 2:3 produces G. Then applying 2:3 to that G produces D. Continuing on like this eventually produces all 12 notes of the Western scale: C, G, D, A, E, B, F#, C#, G# (aka Ab), D# (aka Eb), Bb, F, C. The C that you finally reach will of course be seven octaves higher than the original C you started with. But it will be a C nonetheless (a piano keyboard is just long enough to try this yourself). You could alternatively take the original C and keep halving its length until you get up to the same octave. The two C notes should match, right?

Wrong. The C that you get by the cycle of fifths (repeating the 2:3 ratio twelve times) is a slightly higher note than the C you get by octaves (dividing the string in half seven times). The beautiful and mathematically elegant note produced by the Pythagorean method of perfect fifths is ever so slightly sharp and out of tune. Actually, it's not so "slightly". It's about a quarter of a semitone too high. Easily heard as dissonant even by non-musicians.

I suspect this difference (now called the "Pythagorean comma") drove poor Pythagoras a bit crazy. How could a perfectly just and beautiful universe behave so perversely? It's a grotesque discovery to anyone who is attached to the idea of perfection. It's as if we found out the moon does not go around the earth in a perfect circle (Narrator: It doesn't. It's not even a perfect ellipse). Argh.

And so we're forced to face this reality, to deal with things as they actually are, without attachment to ideals of what we think they should be like. Old school piano tuners (who work by ear, without an electronic tuner app on their iPhones), have therefore learned to deliberately mistune the fifths on a piano, making them all slightly flat so that if you go around the full circle of fifths you end up at a note that is in tune with where you started. How much deliberate flat mistuning do they introduce? A quarter of semitone by the twelth root of two (how's that for an ugly bit of math?) - which means they first tune each fifth (say C to G) perfectly, and then flatten the upper note until it creates a beat frequency of about one beat per second (see my earlier post "Sound is Weird" if you want to read about other weird beat-frequency stuff). The resulting tuned piano plays all intervals slightly flat and out of tune. But the out-of-tuneness is spread equally across all twelve notes of the scale (including the black keys). This "equal temperament" it sounds equally imperfect no matter what notes you play, and in whatever key.

You can perfectly tuna fish

(Aside for fellow guitarists out there: this is why tuning your guitar by matching harmonics on adjacent strings at fifth and seventh frets does not work. You're trying to tune perfect fourths with no beat frequency, which creates the Pythagorean comma problem. The farther you play from the middle of the neck, the more out of tune it will be.)

If you'd like to take a deeper dive on this stuff, look into the syntonic comma as well. It's the difference you get in a major third (e.g., C to E) by going around the cycle of fifths four times (C-G-D-A-E) versus going straight to it via a nice Pythagorean ratio of 4:5. Imperfection in art runs very deep.

Interesting tidbits, maybe. But the more important thing to hold in awareness is: how do you relate to this state of affairs? Is it the deep aesthetic problem that Pythagoras saw? Is it just a neutral and pragmatic issue to be deal with when tuning musical instruments? Or is it maybe actually a positive thing? Things are they way they are, and who are we to decide that's not exactly as they should be? All things are perfect in their imperfections. It's not the case that "perfection" is unobtainable or fleeting. But rather, it's that perfection is already present.

What you seek you already have (grasshopper). The damned guitar is never going to be in tune. So shut up and play it!

Do cracks and variations in colour add or subtract beauty?

That Pesky "Self"

Many people are familiar with the basic propositions of Buddhism, and often think that some of them are pretty self-evident. But today I want to share some thoughts on one that is frequently a bit troublesome. Certainly it is where I have had to put the most effort and exploration. Here's the general propositional territory:

• Impermanence - Nothing lasts forever, nothing stays unchanging for very long. The names and forms that we ascribe to things are just convenient conversational labels to refer to temporary arrangements of the universe. Wait long enough and the arrangement will shift - so that the named thing no longer exists. This is usually pretty easy for most people to immediately acknowledge as true (you have be pretty obtuse or unobservant to push back against this one in the face of the constant stream of examples the world keeps serving up).
• Non-duality - In the face of the impermanence of all "things", we're not on very firm ground trying to clearly delineate the boundaries between any two particular things (such as, in the canonical case, between "you" and "me"). The conceptual integrity of imperamenent and changeable things is fuzzy, and if you look closely, it is not such an easy thing to draw clear distinctions - whether in space, in time, or in causality effects. As I write this, I'm holding in my left hand a "spicy nacho" Dorito. Where exactly is the boundary between my finger and the "cheese" powder? At the molecular level, could we clearly ascribe any particular carbon atom to one side or the other (spatial boundary)? And a carbon atom that is clearly "chip" now, will soon be "spare tire" on my waist, and eventual be "ashes". Is it part of "me" or not (temporal boundary)? And we try to escape this fuzziness by switching to a stance where "me" is the thing that I have agency over, it just raises different problems - no man is an island, after all. Which most people eventually come to realize - good news for treating each other with humanity and compassion.
  
• Non-self - This is the hard one. WTF? Are you saying I don't exist? It sure feels like I do. Rene Descartes promised it to me (Aside: he showed "cogito ergo sum", to which any Zen master might respond "non cogito" - checkmate).

It's that third one that causes so much difficulty for many people (myself included). So, taking my own advice, I've been doing some investigations and running some experiments for the last couple of years.

Where am "I"?

When I say "I" who or what am I referring to? Never mind the definitions others have suggested. What do I mean? (And never mind the self-reference. I see what you did there). I can talk a fast line, and throw enough philosophical smoke to probably dodge the question. But that's not our goal here. We want to really know. And it turns out, I don't think I do know. Do you?

Ooh, "I" said it! "I" said it again!

So I did a little investigating of how it seems to be working in my own head. Here's the best I can describe what it looks like in my mind (YMMV). I wonder if other people work the same way?

First, there are raw sensations of the various sense organs. Eyes respond to incident photons. Ears respond to vibrations in the air. There's disagreement about how many senses human have (somewhere between 8 and 11, I think). Ears also respond to gravity, providing the sense of balance. There's also the "kinesthetic" sense that lets you know how your limbs are arranged without looking at them (go ahead, close your eyes and touch your nose). These various sensory capabilities are subject to the usual physical limitations on sensitivity (like the 17kHz noise generators being installed in UK plazas and  Tube stations to aggravate teenagers into not loitering but can barely be heard by old farts like me, or like our weak but real ability to see in the ultraviolet that was covered in an earlier post). As an example, my ears report to my brain that air vibrations are happening now.

These sensations then perceived by the brain - a process subject to lots and lots of perceptual biases (some discussed in previous posts). The brain figures out that the air vibrations mean that someone is speaking words to me.

Then the brain has to figure out the connotation of these words, to make sense of them, determine what they mean. This is a learned skill that involved lots of stored knowledge about language grammar and the meanings of individual words. This comes from memory built up by education, experience, and socialization as a child. Perhaps the connotation indicates words of abuse like "GTFO". My mind seems to keep a list of such words. And hey, someone is abusing me!

So, next there's an evaluation of this connoted meaning. Is the speech good or bad for me? Do I like it or not? The appearance of one of the stars of Zen investigation: the Discriminating Mind. So I decide that I don't like this abuse. It's a clear threat to my self-esteem, to my personal goal of protecting and promoting my ego in the eyes of others. I must have some list of "good" and "bad" things that I'm using to make this discrimination or categorization. More memory.

This implies that somewhere in my mind is a list of goals and objectives like this. In this example, I've discovered that I have a deep-seated goal to make everyone think I'm wonderful - to put forth into the world some perfect fiction or propped up puppet that they will fall for and will think is the real me. Where did such a goal come from? I can understand that evolutionary pressures would bake into all of us some basic goals for survival of the organism, and the drive to reproduce and pass on our genes. But that could still happen even if some people were able to see my flaws and weaknesses. The more I sit with this puzzle, the more it is appearing that this "ego" goal was something programmed into me in childhood by parents, teachers, and other role models. It's not innate. It's something I was given by people who loved me, because they had it inside themselves too. Part of my mind is a goal to promote the ego and therefore to not let people go around dissing me. This example speaking cannot be allow to stand unchallenged!

And so there finally appears some intentionality, some desire to make good things continue and make bad ones stop. Oh no. Desire is born. Craving and aversion. Clinging and hatred. Suffering and dissatisfaction. Dukkha. Alas, I want this bozo to shut up (add one more to the list of goals in my head). It's bad enough that he doesn't believe I'm wonderful. But somebody else might hear him too. And if not skillfully managed (as learned through zazen practice) this desire can all too easily lead to harmful actions - mental ones (thoughts and emotions) that harm me, or physical ones (speech or physical actions) that harm the bozo dude. Oops, too late. I've gotten angry and shouted back at him.

There it is. The map of what's going on inside my head, as explored from the inside. And now I'm trying to use this map to help with the quest I started on: what do I mean when I say "I"?

Is "I" the raw sensation of the world by sense organs? Is it  the perception in the brain? Is it the connotation, or the store of knowledge that fuels it? The discriminant  evaluation and the list of goals that fuels that? The intentions and sometimes actions that arise from there? None of this sounds right to me. I cannot find "I" anywhere in this reductionist mess.

Maybe "I" is therefore only a holistic phenomenon, an emergent epiphenomenon of the mind. Just a name we give for the whole process and all of its elements. It's a convenient conversational convention that points at this body and this mind and all the cool processes going on. But I don't see how it is referring to any separate thing. And especially not any enduring thing. This body is degrading all the time. The memory is adding and forgetting. Goals mutate and evolve. So, even if an "I" did temporarily exist, it's way too slippery to get fussed about. That's the provisional conclusion from this line of enquiry. So I started another, a more deliberate experimental design with manipulation of the independent variable.

What if "I" didn't exist?

I pushed myself into conducting this experiment after one particularly lucid zazen sitting, when I was ready to have a frank conversation with myself about all the ego protection I've been doing for so many years, and all the pain I've caused other people (and myself) pursuing this goal. I'll try to share the didactic exchange that went on between Kuwon and regular ole Dave.

Photo (c) William Putz

Kuwon:You don’t have an ego, so stop working so hard to protect it. It's causing harm to people you love.

Dave: Are you suggesting that, if someone attacks my ego (e.g., abuses me), I should just roll over and accept it, let it stand unchallenged?

K: Sure, why not?

D: Well, for one thing, it will cause them to think less of me. They won't believe I am as wonderful as I'd like them to think.

K: True enough. But do you really need them to think this? Probably they wouldn't think this anyway (since they see your flaws better than you do – no one can see your internal good intentions). And don't you think that being egoless might allow better actions on your part, which would actually raise their opinion of you?

D: But, for another thing, it will mean that they "win" and I "lose". They'll get ahead of me in this life race. Like that work colleague who hogs all the credit.

K: What race? There is no race. There is no final finish line at which you'll be scored. Think about it – what would be the basis of the scoring, and who could possibly know enough to accurately score it?

D: Well, okay. But they’ll end up happier because they got ahead relative to me.

K: Happiness is not zero sum; their gain does not come at your expense. What are you possibly losing by letting the ego attack roll past? And even if it were true that they moved ahead in happiness relative to you, is that really such a bad thing to have helped them with?

D: Anyway, if I were to really adopt this strategy of letting all ego attacks pass unchallenged, the world would take complete advantage of me. People would screw me over in order to get ahead in achieving their own goals. They'd prevent me from achieving mine. "A good offense is the best defense".

K: The goals that they could prevent, are these really the most important goals of yours? Don't you have more important goals in this short life, ones that are not dependent on the support or acquiescence of others?

D:  Now we're getting down to the brass tacks. Really, I’m scared that accepting egolessness will mean I fail to achieve material life goals, and that I’ll later regret this.

K: That’s understandable, but ill-founded. First off, your premise is false. You can still achieve material gains. In fact, with the clarity of awareness that comes from egolessness, you might actually be more successful in achieving goals (there would be less misdirected and wasted effort). Rolling over is not the same as passivity. It means not wasting time and energy on unimportant fights. Instead, redirect that time and energy to achieving something more important. Secondly, you know better than to get too caught up in these material goals. Life is short, and you are wasting too much of it on material gains. You’ve already had more than your fair share. And you’ve seen firsthand that they are essentially empty, and so deliberately got off the corporate treadmill. And anyway, even if you remain scared that still doesn’t change the truth of the matter. So you're scared – so what? You still don't have a real ego worth fighting over (it’s a delusion). Isn't it better to try to face up to the fact?

D: Woah, dude. That’s a lot to digest. Maybe some experiential data is needed at this point. I could experiment for a while, trying not defending and building up the ego so much, and then see what happens. Your thesis suggests I should see these results:

• More clarity and insight into what's going on around me (since it wouldn't be filtered or framed to make my ego look good)

• Wiser decisions about what to do next (since not driven by the need for ego protection)

• More time and energy available to spend on important goals

• A slight net gain in perception by others (even if you say this is irrelevant or even counterproductive).

 This experiment has been running for about a year and half now. And I'm starting to be persuaded. But old habits and conditioning die slowly. Right now it's more "fake it til you make it".

Wiser people than me have been down this same path. Maybe they are clearer?