Generative and Non generative thinking

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The following talk was given by Gil Fronsdal at Insight Meditation Center in Redwood City, CA on July 09, 2023. Please visit the website www.audiodharma.org for more information.

Generative and Non generative thinking

Introduction

Good morning. Good morning, everyone. Hello, and hello to those of you who are with us online. Thank you for coming. I think I'm still in this space—maybe under the influence of the pandemic—of appreciating when we come together more than I did before. It's nice to be sitting here and be together in community, so thank you for coming.

The topic I want to talk about is one that was inspired by the recent self-retreat I did for a month by myself. One of the things that I found fascinating was a kind of investigation or attention to thinking itself. Rather than assuming that thinking is wrong or bad, I wanted to investigate it to see what was going on with thinking in some deeper way.

One of the things that I've known for some time is that there are different levels or kinds of thinking. It's not like all thinking is the same. I wanted to slow down, stop, and take a look at the thinking we do—whether it's thinking in images or thinking in words—and start distinguishing the different categories and modes of thinking that we have, because some of those modes are not so good for us.

Because debilitating modes sometimes predominate, thinking itself gets a negative reputation in some circles. It's almost as if all thinking is bad. But thinking is an important part of meditation, and thinking can be generative. It can be useful, supportive of meditation, and supportive of life. Conversely, thinking can be deadening. It can be the opposite of supporting life; it undermines us. The unfortunate thing is that for not a few people in this modern world—and maybe the ancient world, too—something has gone askew with the way that we think. We get preoccupied in thoughts which are debilitating and undermining.

To be able to see and recognize that there are different modes of thinking is, for some people, a new idea. It opens the door to beginning to live a little differently and maybe exercise some degree of choice about how we think, what we think about, and, just as importantly, the attitude we have about our thinking.

Exploring Our Thinking

This is an important topic of mindfulness. It can be explored in meditation, certainly, and it can be explored in daily life in all kinds of situations. I've had a fair amount of interesting discoveries around thinking while driving. With the radio off and no one to talk to, I find that I can drive safely—maybe more safely—if I'm tracking my thinking rather than being lost in thoughts.

Twice in the 30 years I've lived on the Peninsula, I was driving on the 280 highway and missed my exit because I was thinking a lot about something. I was so absorbed. I was tracking what was going on around me well enough to drive safely, but not well enough to know where I was and where I was supposed to get off. That was a little bit of a wake-up call.

I also like to hike and go for walks. When I walk alone, it's an interesting time to explore this world of thinking. If we don't do that, for some of us, thinking just takes over. We run on automatic pilot, and our thinking just churns away without any question or choice involved. It's like thinking has a mind of its own, and we'd better just follow along.

Some people are so strongly wedded to their thinking that who they are as a person is their thinking self; they are their thoughts. For some people, it's actually frightening to stop thinking because then they're not anybody. They aren't telling themselves a story about who they are, telling fantasies, or playing out conversations to reassure themselves. That's one of the reasons why some people think a lot: it's a way of shoring up some self-concept that has become important for feeling safe, feeling successful, or compensating for how difficult this world is.

Discursive Thinking (Papañca)

In the teachings of the Buddha, there are two primary modes of active thinking. One mode in the ancient language is called papañca^[1]. Papañca is sometimes translated into English as "proliferating thinking"—thinking that just proliferates, has a life of its own, spreads, spins, and creates universes of ideas.

Sometimes I like to call that discursive thinking. You're giving yourself a discourse, having a conversation with someone or with yourself, or involved in commentary. It's a storytelling mind, a fantasy mind, a mind planning a future that is completely unknown. It's very active. It is what some people might call mental constructs. Some people spend an inordinate amount of time in this world of papañca, of discursive thinking and constructs. I like to think of this as shallow thinking.

Deep Thinking and the Metaphor of the Womb

The other mode of thinking is deep thinking, or contemplative thinking. The contemplative has a deep spiritual connection, and from that comes a deeper reflection about things. The important distinction between these two—and this is one of the key points I want to make today—is discovering the source of our thinking. From where does thinking come?

The Buddha likens papañca (discursive thinking) to a puppeteer. A puppeteer sits high above the puppet show and pulls long strings to get the puppets to do things. This is the thinking mind up in the head—the control tower—and it has tentacles and strings that go into our muscles and nerves everywhere in the body. If we're caught up in that world, all kinds of big and small muscles are being pulled. The shoulders go up, the forehead crunches, the jaw gets tight, the belly pulls in.

It's fascinating in meditation when you've been relatively calm, settled, and minding your own business, and then the puppeteer suddenly drops a really big bang thought. Suddenly, the energy is there. You've been ignited with anger, fury, or fear. You think, "How could that person have said that?"—even if it was 50 years ago. The puppeteer has come back from vacation and is pulling emotional strings, muscular strings, and postural strings. Having the Buddha call it a "puppeteer" reminds us that it's not really who you are, even if it's the only version of yourself you've known your whole life.

Deep thinking, on the other hand, the Buddha associates with something he calls the yoni^[2]. Yoni in Pali and Sanskrit means "womb." It's a beautiful metaphor for a place that is generative, a place where something gestates, grows, and develops. Rather than being a puppeteer pulling strings from above, it is something flowing and evolving from within. It can feel very different. Wonderful, creative thinking, or the reverie of thinking warmly about someone or something you love, has a very different source than the puppeteer—unless that love is filled with desperate desire, in which case it flips back into the puppeteer mode of fear, worry, and ambition.

This deeper wellspring flows upward and outward, filling us. When we are in this mode of being, thinking can be delicious. This is where wisdom can occur.

Selfing and Repetitive Thoughts

Discursive thinking (papañca) is a world of two things: clinging (attachment, fear, anger, insecurity, or a driven push) and "selfing." Selfing is the part of us that is a construct—how we've learned to create an image, a role, or a persona that we want to present to the world.

When I first came to Buddhism around the age of 20, I visited the Zen Center in San Francisco. It was a bit of a shock to talk to senior practitioners there because I realized I was constantly playing a social game of presenting myself as I wanted people to see me. It was a construct in my behavior that my friends and I cooperatively reinforced for each other. But the Zen Center practitioners had meditated a lot and didn't react to my game. They were like a mirror. I loved it. I wanted to live in a place where I could see myself doing these odd things, because I knew there wasn't much integrity in them; they weren't coming from the deep place I wanted to come from.

If you look at your discursive thought, chances are high that you are the main player in the stories you spin. If anyone walked next to us repeating themselves out loud as much as we repeat ourselves in our own thinking, we'd beg them to stop. We might even yell at them! Yet we repeat the same thoughts over and over again. Why don't we get bored? Because we're the main character, and who we are is important. That sense of importance is part of how we learn to be safe, successful, or belong in the world.

The Emotional Impact of Discursive Thinking

Discursive thought comes with strong emotions, moods, and attitudes: fear, anxiety, anger, despair, discouragement, strong ambition, and conceit. If you have the same thoughts repeatedly, you are continuously reinforcing those moods. You are constantly shaping who you are through the emotional impact of this thinking. Psychologists note that a high percentage of depressed people suffer due to rumination—thinking the same thoughts over and over again. Therapies like Cognitive Behavioral Therapy look at the nature of our thoughts to help us stop undermining our psychological and physical health.

I used to do a lot of planning thoughts out of anxiety for the future. I thought it would keep me safe. But it slowly dawned on me that my ability to predict the future was dismal. I was wasting time planning for things that never occurred the way I imagined. Slowly, I began to give up this neurotic drive to plan everything. I still plan ahead—it's an important part of life—but not in that driven way.

In Buddhist teachings, discursive thinking gives birth to the Five Hindrances^[3]: sensual desire, ill will, lethargy and resistance, restlessness and anxiety, and doubt or indecisiveness.

Characteristics of Deep Thinking

In contrast, thinking from the deeper source—the "womb"—gives birth to a completely different way of being. The Buddha says that a person who thinks from this source considers the welfare and well-being of themselves, of others, of both self and others, and of the whole world.

This integrative way of thinking asks: "What's beneficial here? How do people thrive?" It's not self-focused (which belongs to the puppeteer), but inclusive. The womb becomes a metaphor for the whole world—a place that allows something generative to grow. When we open up in this wide way, we stop drawing sharp lines between "me" and "you," the right people and the wrong people. This deep source doesn't divide; it grows into wholeness, just as an embryo does. We are equally caring for ourselves, our relationships, our communities, and the world.

This deep generative place is also associated with mindfulness and awareness. Because it feels so nourishing, it brings a sense of well-being that connects us to ourselves. Discursive thinking often alienates us from ourselves, but deep thinking brings clarity, vitality, joy, tranquility, focus, and equanimity.

Making Peace with the Discursive Mind

I associate discursive thinking with our physical musculature. It operates on the surface because that is where we execute fight, flight, or freeze responses to survive danger. It activates quickly. The deep, womb-like thinking rests deeper within our organs, our nervous system, or what we in the West might call our hearts.

Because discursive thought is tied to survival, it plays an important role. For some people, getting lost in fantasy was the only way they got relief from a horrendous life situation. Therefore, it is very important not to treat the discursive mind as an enemy. We must not be disrespectful toward it.

Instead, use equanimity, open awareness, and kindness to envelop and hold the discursive thought. It needs to be seen by something that cares for it. When there's a lot of discursive thinking, ask yourself: "Where is the source of this? Where in my emotions, attitudes, or body is this coming from? What would help this part of me relax, feel reassured, and feel safer?"

When we get underneath the surface armor, we find a place that is softer, more sensitive, quieter, and perhaps shyer. Give it time to emerge. Let it meet the discursive part and be in conversation with it. Maybe they can go for a walk hand-in-hand. Form a new relationship with discursive thought rather than just giving in to it. Do not let your mind have a mind of its own. You can hang a sign in your mind that says: "Under New Management."

Under New Management: A Teaser for Next Time

I hope this has offered you a new approach that inspires you to take a deep look at yourself and question the "business as usual" of your mind. Does it really have to be the way it has been for the last 50 years?

There is actually more I wanted to say based on my retreat. I'll give you a little snippet, and perhaps talk about the rest when I return in a few weeks.

On retreat, it became fairly easy for me to just shut off the discursive thinking mind. I wasn't in control of how long it stayed off, but I could shut it off for a bit. It was fascinating to see what forms of knowing and thinking emerged spontaneously when the room wasn't filled by the puppeteer.

You've probably been in a group where one person dominates the conversation so no one else can speak. That's what the discursive mind does. Your mental space—your awareness—is very expensive real estate. You don't want to waste it by letting the discursive mind fill it all the time. Give other ways of knowing a chance to surface. The discursive thoughts are never far away; they will get their turn. But make room for the deeper voices.

Community Connection

I'm going to stop 10 minutes early today. You're welcome to sit quietly or to leave. But since we have tea today, I suggest turning toward one or two people near you to say hello. Offer your name, and maybe share a tiny conversation about what your thoughts are regarding these ideas.

Make your comments relatively short; don't tell long stories. Have a back-and-forth, ping-pong kind of exchange. As you form groups of two or three, have a little mindfulness for those sitting alone and invite them into your group. I will ring the bell in about six or seven minutes, and then we will have tea. [Laughter]