Scientists confront the hazy realm of spiritual enlightenment
After spending 8 years training in the meditative practices of Zen Buddhism, neurologist James H. Austin spent a sabbatical year from 1981 to 1982 at the London Zen Center. On a pleasant March morning, while waiting for a subway train on a surface platform and idly glancing down the tracks toward the Thames River, Austin got his first taste of spiritual enlightenment.
Instantly, the panorama of sky, buildings, and water acquired a sense of what he calls "absolute reality, intrinsic rightness, and ultimate perfection." He suddenly shed his formerly unshakable assumption that he was an individual, separated from the rest of the world by a skin suit. The sky and river remained just as blue, the buildings just as gray and dingy, yet the loss of an "I-me-mine" perspective imbued the view with an extraordinary emptiness, he says.
Within seconds, other insights dawned. These included the notion that Austin had experienced an eternal state of affairs, had nothing more to fear,