Of Knowing & Unknowing

RAJGOPAL NIDAMBOOR

The conscious self and the divine self are two sides of the same coin. When the two coalesce, it is akin to the mind acquiescing to itself, while relating to the whole self, or consciousness. In the process, it seamlessly integrates with self-awareness, but not so much with the unconscious self-awareness, or unconscious god-awareness. You’d call it a sort of reflexive mechanism that has not actually altered, while the centre of consciousness has transformed. Any which way you look at it, it translates to the emergence of the ‘true self,’ provided the mind continues to bend itself.

Such a mind-bending ‘balancing-act’ holds the key to a different dimension of knowing. It also bids fair to the idea of the mind’s unconscious seeing an empty void — which is called the ‘third eye’ — a spin-off, or consequence, of the ‘cloud of unknowing entity,’ or, seeing everything, and seeing nothing too, as it were. In other words, when the mind sees the divine, it sees nothing; yet, it also sees the true compass, or radar, of knowing. The whole process — of the mind seeing nothing — may, to begin with, ‘blight’ its normal function. This slowly percolates to the skin of our thought, and insight, while elevating the whole doctrine of perception, empathy and understanding of all the myriad facets of knowing.

It takes time for one to reach such a heightened podium of knowing. For some, it may take years. For others, it may take just as much time — but, the good news is once the process of adaptation is complete, the whole experience ceases to be a dilemma. You guessed it right — the experience of the ‘third eye’ is reflexive consciousness, or the knowing-self, seeing its own empty centre. Put in précis, it simply means seeing nothingness, to start with, and eventually seeing it as the divine expanse. Some philosophers refer to such a breadth of knowing from the inside-out as ‘unknowing.’

While it is agreed that the transition from knowing to unknowing, and vice versa, may not always be experienced at the conscious, or reflective level, it is imperative for one to keep in mind the whole process of acclimatisation with the divine — at all times. The reason is simple. It is also profound. Constant divine awareness not only connects to life, but also the core of our being. If there is a ‘disconnect,’ the outcome is everything outside of the empty centre — shallow and fragile.

All this is not as [un]complicated as it appears to be on the surface. As some philosophers point out the true centre of consciousness may not be self at all. Just like the hole in a popular confectionary is not mint. Well, the simile is apparent — the self relates to what is conscious, or divine centre, even when it is not itself the centre. For the centre to be expressed as centre, it ought to possess a circumference. Let’s delve into the obvious — if you do away with the centre, you will do away with the circumference. What does this suggest? That the divine is the centre and self-consciousness is the circumference. When you do away with either — the self or divine, centre or circumference — the duo ebbs together in sync.

It takes two to tango, right? The progression of the divine into the unconscious releases enormous emotional energy — it also holds the celestial fulcrum for us to seek the centre of calm, stillness and peace. The more we harmonise such inner silence, emptiness, knowing and unknowing, the better is the repertoire of our feeling-self.

This leads to the sum total of our lives, which encompasses a sequence of instances, including the past, present and futuristic moments. As author-philosopher Henry David Thoreau put it in précis, “Find your eternity in each moment.” Whether you are keying in words for a presentation on the job, whether you are listening to lilting music to unwind, whether you are exercising to keeping fit, or beating anxiety, or whether you are lazing on the divan, the point is you are focusing on your ‘in-progress,’ or present, moment.

You may be, in the midst of it all, awfully focused and resolute to get the work done. Yet, you spare a few moments from your frenetic activity to take a breath, or surmise your pace — and, live in the moment that engages all your energy. You will think that each moment is a gift; the more effective your outcome or result, the more precious the gift too. This is because all of us, at some point, have experienced the fact that one good moment can change our life, career and world — from niggling gloom to stunning success.

All of us are endowed with a purpose — though not everyone gives attention to what it could be, or will be. To highlight a corollary — no one is extraordinarily smart, intelligent, kind, nasty, righteous, or witty, all the time. But, any which way you look at it, all of us have our cheerful and depressing moments. We are all doing something, or the other, each moment, even when we don’t do a thing — because, the mind is never inactive, even when we sleep. It allows us to dream, chuckle and fulfil what we have not yet achieved in real life too.

Life is made of dreams and dreams are made of life — they encompass both knowing and unknowing, from moment-to-moment. This is like particles that are scattered on a canvas — they relate to moments, big and small. They are like sea waves, or the blossoming of a flower — where each segment relates to a new moment, which is as fresh as the early morning dew. All of this and more happens in the present-moment, knowingly or unknowingly, when a few nanoseconds have passed rapidly and the present-moment has vanished at the speed of thought.

— First published in The Himalayan Times, Nepal