Ernie Nemeth
16th December 2012, 22:47
Untold numbers of facts and seemingly certain theories abound in this modern world. We think we know so much that our world view is virtually fixed and unwavering. Yet what we know so much about is only the parts, those vivisection portions of reality devoid of the interrelated connections that give it meaning. Even these portions are only scrutinized if the so called “scientific method” can yield verifiable evidence in support of their existence. This bottle-neck in the areas of study has had the inevitable effect of skewing the world view held by members of society and has had the side effect of blocking valid areas of study from scrutiny.
In today’s intellectual climate it is better to start from the premise that one does not know anything, if one is sincere in their effort to uncover the truth. We think we know, but that is a function of our conditioning not a statement of fact.
Still, is it fair to say I know something? I think not... but I feel so.
I know I exist, for example, even if I cannot prove it satisfactorily to another. I guess that is the rub of it, really: I cannot prove anything I am convinced I know to another. I can’t force others on-board my agenda, even when I am certain it is the truth.
I know I am not this body but that the body is merely a wonderful tool I employ like a sophisticated ride or avatar, the result of which is an essentially existential experience. Whether this identity that drives the bus moves on to other adventures after dropping the body, I do not know.
I know I am aware and am aware of being aware. I call that consciousness. It is great fun to project scenarios of my own creation onto the screen of awareness and play them out as if they were true reality. Or I can use the process of rational thought I have no idea where or how I learned, and employ deductive and inductive reasoning to wrestle an irrefutable fact out of the morass of conflicting data, string it together with other such factoids and call that reality.
I know I have another avenue of experience open to me but it is hard to pin down and remains unreliable: the realm of feeling, intuition and the emotions. This area includes spontaneous: knowing of future events, places and circumstances or solutions to problems, conflicts and impasses or expansion in comprehension or healing of incurable disease and infliction or connections between individuals and so-called higher beings, to name just a few... The emphasis seems to be on the spontaneous, the synchronistic nature of the experience and the state of observing as opposed to any direct voluntary action. Also there is a feeling of eureka! that precedes the actual interpretation and knowledge in concrete form, when for a moment the entire package of information and its ramifications become momentarily precise and clear only to become mostly blurred by the time comprehension arrives.
I know there is a state that exists when this body rests at night that seems markedly different than other states. Often, almost always, I am not aware of the difference until the experience ends. I call that dreaming. It can be fun or it can be downright frightening but dreaming seems to be at times yet another source of knowledge.
These things I know, I am certain about. They are real... to me, at least. I don’t seek to convince you because I can’t... and don’t want to, either.
I know one more thing...
There is a whole lot more to know, with certainty.
So where’s the meaning in all this? What does it mean? Meaning is shared or it does not exist. What is the meaning in anything if only I ascribe it value? What sort of quality must meaning have to be wanted and shared freely?
The meaning, if it has any, I leave to you.
In today’s intellectual climate it is better to start from the premise that one does not know anything, if one is sincere in their effort to uncover the truth. We think we know, but that is a function of our conditioning not a statement of fact.
Still, is it fair to say I know something? I think not... but I feel so.
I know I exist, for example, even if I cannot prove it satisfactorily to another. I guess that is the rub of it, really: I cannot prove anything I am convinced I know to another. I can’t force others on-board my agenda, even when I am certain it is the truth.
I know I am not this body but that the body is merely a wonderful tool I employ like a sophisticated ride or avatar, the result of which is an essentially existential experience. Whether this identity that drives the bus moves on to other adventures after dropping the body, I do not know.
I know I am aware and am aware of being aware. I call that consciousness. It is great fun to project scenarios of my own creation onto the screen of awareness and play them out as if they were true reality. Or I can use the process of rational thought I have no idea where or how I learned, and employ deductive and inductive reasoning to wrestle an irrefutable fact out of the morass of conflicting data, string it together with other such factoids and call that reality.
I know I have another avenue of experience open to me but it is hard to pin down and remains unreliable: the realm of feeling, intuition and the emotions. This area includes spontaneous: knowing of future events, places and circumstances or solutions to problems, conflicts and impasses or expansion in comprehension or healing of incurable disease and infliction or connections between individuals and so-called higher beings, to name just a few... The emphasis seems to be on the spontaneous, the synchronistic nature of the experience and the state of observing as opposed to any direct voluntary action. Also there is a feeling of eureka! that precedes the actual interpretation and knowledge in concrete form, when for a moment the entire package of information and its ramifications become momentarily precise and clear only to become mostly blurred by the time comprehension arrives.
I know there is a state that exists when this body rests at night that seems markedly different than other states. Often, almost always, I am not aware of the difference until the experience ends. I call that dreaming. It can be fun or it can be downright frightening but dreaming seems to be at times yet another source of knowledge.
These things I know, I am certain about. They are real... to me, at least. I don’t seek to convince you because I can’t... and don’t want to, either.
I know one more thing...
There is a whole lot more to know, with certainty.
So where’s the meaning in all this? What does it mean? Meaning is shared or it does not exist. What is the meaning in anything if only I ascribe it value? What sort of quality must meaning have to be wanted and shared freely?
The meaning, if it has any, I leave to you.