3.3.2. Solipsism
“The mind is everything. What you think, you become.”
— Dhammapada, verse 1
There is a peculiar comfort in believing the world simply exists as it is — solid, objective, shared by all. Yet when I look closely, with the same unflinching honesty that first compelled me onto this path, it becomes clear that my reality is profoundly shaped by my own mind. The notion that we live as quiet solipsists, inhabiting self-constructed worlds, can seem unsettling at first. But it also reveals the extraordinary power — and responsibility — we each hold in shaping our experience.
Until full awakening, it is almost inevitable that reality appears solipsistic — as if it exists primarily for us alone. But that is not quite accurate. Rather, what we perceive is filtered through a persistent question whispered by the mind: “What’s in it for me?” This filter operates so deeply that it engages long before any conscious thought arises.
In my daily encounters, my mind darts outward toward sights, sounds, thoughts — evaluating each through three habitual modes. If something offers pleasure or promise, I lean toward it; if it suggests harm or distaste, I recoil; and if it seems irrelevant, I let it drift by in ignorance. These responses feel natural, even reasonable. Yet beneath them lies an automatic “investigating consciousness,” continuously scanning each arising object to determine its value relative to this fragile sense of self.
It is startling to realise how little conscious control I have over what I like, fear, or disregard. This subconscious filter divides the world into objects of desire, aversion, or indifference — all without my deliberate input.
But not all objects hold the same power over this process. Their impact depends on the karmic significance I have attributed to them, often shaped by past habits and decisions. In classical Abhidhamma analysis, these varying impacts are categorised by how strongly they interrupt the flow of the bhavaṅga, the passive “life continuum” that underlies waking states.
Four Classes of Objects
| Class | Description |
|---|---|
| Very Great Object | So significant it halts the bhavaṅga almost instantly, initiating a full cognitive process that includes registration — the step essential for normal memory. These are the moments I fully notice and later recall. |
| Great Object | Also interrupts the bhavaṅga quickly, though with a slight delay (1–2 mind moments longer). It allows cognition and even the active phase (javana), but lacks registration — meaning I experience it but do not later remember. This covers the countless small decisions that guide me while driving or following a recipe. |
| Slight Object | Of lesser significance. The bhavaṅga continues longer before stopping, so while there is time for receiving, investigating, and determining consciousness, there is not time for the energetic javana to complete. Thus, I process these without awareness — they become the subtle undercurrent shaping perception beneath conscious thought. |
| Very Slight Object | So faint that they merely cause the bhavaṅga to vibrate briefly without stopping. For Buddhas or Bodhisattvas of the eighth bhūmi, all objects are perceived this way — seamlessly, without disrupting the pure flow of awareness. |
It is astonishing how much of my experience is governed by these subtle mechanics. The quality of my reality — its very fabric — is determined by how my mind invests significance into certain patterns. In a sense, I am perpetually crafting my own private universe, shaped by past actions and present biases.
This is why the Abhidhamma speaks of fifteen levels of significance, ranging from the forceful arrest caused by Very Great Objects down to the subtle influence of Very Slight Objects. Most of the time, my mind teems with unrecognised Slight Objects — unnoticed yet powerfully influential, laying down a complex web of micro-impressions that dictate how I respond to life.
It is within these layers that my apparent “self” emerges. Each time I notice something, decide its meaning, or react, I reinforce its significance. Even unconscious patterns are constantly feeding back into the system, subtly steering my likes, dislikes, and blind spots. This is why reality can feel so personal — almost solipsistic — because in truth, it is heavily tailored by my own karmic imprinting.
And this leads to an important contemplation. The very thinking that seeks, categorises, and reacts continually disrupts a deeper awareness that is always present. Beneath these restless processes lies a most subtle, atomic level of consciousness — an ālaya-like continuity untouched by cognition. If the mind could settle, truly settle, this boundless, non-dual awareness would become unmistakable. But most often, I am too busy chasing desires or fleeing discomforts, bound up in dreams and aversions, missing the quiet brilliance that underlies it all.
So it turns out solipsism, in its mundane form, is merely a shadow of something profound. My reality is sculpted by the meanings I assign, which means it can also be reshaped. By seeing how this machinery works, I begin to loosen its grip — learning to rest, ever so gently, in that subtle continuum of awareness which requires no object to shine.
This text is excerpted from the upcoming book Citrinitas: A Course in Modern Alchemy. The complete volume will include additional study guides, glossaries, and extended teachings. Learn more about the book here.