The 3rd State of Consciousness
The four states of consciousness have been described in detail throughout the Work literature.
The first state is physical sleep, where we lay in bed, fast asleep. The next is our ordinary waking state, where, as it’s said, “we live our lives, make wars, commit crimes and try to solve all the problems for which this second state itself is responsible.”* This second state is our everyday state of unconscious automatism that Mr. Gurdjieff called the state of sleep. The third state can be regarded as the self-conscious spectrum. Here we move into more subtle states of consciousness, new sensations, insights, feelings, and modes of awareness. It’s in this third state that we’re aware that we are aware of ourselves. Intentional efforts to experience and sustain the third state of awareness can lay a foundation for the fourth and completely unknown state, termed objective consciousness, to appear.
The second state is where we ordinarily find ourselves, so let’s start there. In this state we already experience varying levels of consciousness, from being completely absorbed by some external or internal event, to having some awareness of what I’m doing, to moments of intentionally sustained attention. What’s fundamentally missing in this ordinary state, however, is the recognition of an observer in me that’s separate from what is being observed.
When a sense of “I am observing” begins to appear, we touch the third, self-conscious, state. More experience with this state is what we can strive for at the moment. But how do we get there? The most direct route is by exercising our capacity for directing attention. New questions related to this capacity are bound to come up along the way, like: where does attention originate? What is attention? How can I maintain it against all the distractions in life?
Even after years of experience working with attention, it’s easy to forget that a constant renewal is needed to maintain it. Almost every other effort known to man, from brushing my teeth to brain surgery, can become so well practiced as to be put on auto-pilot by our functioning. We do something a few times, and suddenly we don’t need to pay as much attention to it. Like riding a bike, in time it becomes automatic.
Work with attention is a wholly unique effort in that it can never be set to auto-pilot. It’s a great irony to think I can practice a work of attention so thoroughly that, eventually, I won’t have to pay attention to it anymore. How we enter and maintain this effort may evolve, but the self-conscious state differs from our ordinary state in that it always involves an intentional use of attention, and a sense of myself.
In the state of waking sleep, the seeds of the third state are still present. We know this because when learning something new, we’re able to direct and sustain attention. To experience this practically, bring attention to something like the sensation of your hands. You can notice this sensation, even from what you might think of as the clutches of sleep. Since it’s said we all come to the Work with rusty machines immersed in sleep, that’s very good news.
So it’s clear that a crucial step in our training with attention is the simple experiencing of whatever bodily sensation is available. Warm water on the skin, an aching back, hunger, the chest rising and falling. We make attempt after attempt to include the body in the awareness, because the body is here in the present, not off in a dream. If we take a moment to find it, there’s always some kind of sensation available to experience.
OK, but who is having this experience? The next step on the road to the third state involves cultivating a dual awareness of sorts. Part of my awareness is on the object of attention, and part is back on me, the one who is experiencing it. Without including a sense of myself in my experiencing, I’m still in the second state.
The effort to maintain this dual awareness is a bit like carrying a cup brimming with some precious liquid. Somehow this cup was entrusted to us and now we’re holding it with both hands. We need to carry it without spilling. The trouble is, our inner world is like a busy commercial kitchen. To carry intentional attention through the place requires skill and vigilance. The head chef is yelling, there are flames leaping on the stove, the dish washer is spilling water on the floor and waiters are running by with plates. I need to be constantly on the watch, not only for the cup I’m holding, but also where I’m going and how I’m getting there. A moment of inattention and, if my hand manages not to tip, I’m sure to get jostled in the hubbub. Internally, any disturbance arising in the form of an association or impulse, and attention gets taken. The liquid spills. I’ve slipped back into the second state.
So an additional effort is needed to maintain an awareness of what I’m trying. At a certain moment, perhaps just half a second into the effort, an association will arise. It can be so tantalizing or urgent that I’m sucked right in. In the process, I completely surrender the attention, and with it, the sense of myself. If I don’t learn to expect this, I’ll always be taken unawares.
Not to say we shouldn’t recognize the value of our associations. After all, they help me think and make swift connections with other ideas. At the same time, we need to see that they pose an incredibly powerful allure to the attention. Associations arising from our lower centers, referred to as our thinking, emotional and moving centers, offer almost instantaneous escape routes out of the present. We’ve all been swept away in what we might otherwise call our “train of thought.”
Right now, we only need to watch the associations appear. As we experiment with entering the third state, we can start to expect in advance the distractions presented by our lower centers. In time, we can begin to anticipate the bustling waiters with their plates of food, and perhaps not disappear when the head chef barks in our direction. What can help is to anticipate that something will always arise in the functioning to compete for the attention, be it innocently, urgently, pleasurably, threateningly, or otherwise. Little by little, with the help of an attention rooted in sensation, we can find ways to remain for longer periods of time in that third, self-conscious state.
*From Part II of On Attention by Christopher Fremantle