Many people find it challenging to grasp the Buddhist teaching of anatta, or non-self, which is understandable as it’s a complex concept. Essentially, people often believe “someone” has to be in control, assuming they have a self that they must lose, which can cause fear and confusion. They worry that without a self, there would be no control or ability to make choices, making the idea of living without a self hard to comprehend.
The Buddha never taught that there is no self. When teachers say “there’s no self,” they’re simplifying the message that the kind of self you think you have doesn’t exist. The self you believe in is viewed as a single entity organizing all experiences and actions, supposedly in control. However, this unitary, conscious self doesn’t exist. So, you don’t lose a self because you don’t have one to begin with. Instead, you have an illusion of having a self, which hampers your happiness. Once you believe in a self, and find it often unhappy, you start doubting your kind of self, feeling it’s inadequate or broken. This illusory self becomes burdensome.
An important aspect of this false self is the belief that it acts consciously. While it feels natural to think we make some decisions consciously and others unconsciously, even conscious decisions are made subconsciously. Research by Ben Libet in the 1980s and later studies using fMRI show that decisions are made before we become aware of them, proving we don’t make decisions consciously as we might think.
Many people assume consciousness is synonymous with the self, thinking no self means no conscious decisions. However, once we dispel the illusion of self, the idea that decisions aren’t conscious becomes easier to grasp. Direct pointing is a form of teaching that helps people see beyond their illusions and understand non-self by encouraging them to look at these delusions critically.
To help clarify, consider the “boys in the basement” metaphor from Stephen King. This describes the unconscious creative forces driving our actions. Writers know their ideas and words emerge mysteriously from the unconscious mind. Although conscious awareness observes these ideas, it doesn’t create them. People think a conscious self coexists with an unconscious self, making decisions and actions independently. However, there’s no conscious self, just an illusion.
To visualize this, imagine a building with a central atrium and rooms branching off it, each representing different parts of the unconscious mind—the boys in the basement. These rooms communicate in limited ways, and the atrium symbolizes conscious awareness. The rooms are where decisions are made unconsciously. The atrium merely passes these decisions through for awareness. So, there’s no conscious decision-making; it’s all an unconscious process.
This model shows there isn’t a central self, but a community within the mind with various parts contributing to decisions, none of which are permanent or in charge. An example is feeling hurt and deciding whether or not to retaliate. This involves an internal debate among different parts of the unconscious mind, which ultimately leads to a decision that emerges through the atrium, appearing as a conscious choice.
Interestingly, a part of us, the plagiarist, claims credit for these unconscious decisions, maintaining the illusion of a conscious decision-maker. This part believes it’s responsible for actions it merely observes. Neuroscience shows that what we think are conscious actions are made unconsciously—we only become aware of them later.
Thus, free will and non-self aren’t incompatible. Our decisions aren’t made by a conscious mind, though conscious awareness sometimes receives these decisions. Free will is constrained and not absolute, yet we do make choices within our limitations. Mindfulness, wisdom, faith, concentration, and energy are crucial in developing greater freedom to choose wisely.
Training the mind is like training wild animals—one part of our unconscious guides other parts. With mindfulness and compassion practices, notably body-based meditations, we can foster understanding, leading to happiness and well-being while dispelling the burdensome illusion of a self in control.