Essay 6
July 29, 2022
In the sixth essay of Our Highest Possibilities I share some of my own thoughts and experiences on the journey, as well as valuable counsel given by others
Many years ago I answered “yes” to the call to try to find a direct experience of “knowing,” to make a serious attempt to open into the highest possibilities that wise men and women have talked about through the ages. Many twists and turns, ups and downs later, one thing I have discovered is that it is necessary to make that decision again and again if I am to continue on the path. There are so many distractions in our world today: enticements that allure, glittering and bright; troubles all over the world that seem endless but demand a response; and the daily, mundane, time-consuming problems, attractions, and distractions of living in modern society.
Sometimes I think I am progressing only to discover, upon close examination, that my ego is back in charge, once again running the show. A vivid reminder of my shortcomings! When this happens, I try to remember that no one said this journey was going to be easy, and I try to take my slow progress as nothing but a reminder of the difficulty of the path I am on.
Often I find solace in poetry, especially that of Rumi, Rilke, and Eliot. They assure me there is no hurry, and no value in trying to calculate how far I have come. Rumi says all I need do is go “three feet toward Solomon’s mountain,” and that is enough for now.
I can do that. I can go three feet. Maybe I have already gone two. Or two and a half. I can go a little further. Perhaps that is exactly my task, to proceed just a little further; just to do what I can in this moment.
Rumi did not mean, of course, that it was only three feet to the top of the mountain. But the whole poem makes clear that if I will do only that, travel just three feet in the right direction, my failures and limitations will not matter. Furthermore, doing only that will help others, will inspire others to continue their journeys. And it will help me as well:
If your leg is gimpy and you have to hop,
what’s the difference?
Going there, even by limping,
the leg grows whole.
It is deeply inspiring to think that if I simply go as far as I can toward the summit of the mountain — I will be healed. Who I really am will be healed. My true self will emerge and become whole.
Jesus said it was necessary to lose your life before you could find it. The message in his words is that I must lose my identification with the ego self if I am to discover who I really am — the true self, the self that is always and ever connected to the Kingdom he often mentioned. Perhaps in simply setting off to climb the mountain and placing my focus beyond my ego I will discover “the Kingdom of God within.” Jesus says in Luke 17, “Neither shall they say, Lo here! or, Lo there! for, behold, the kingdom of God is within you.” So perhaps the Kingdom is not “out there” somewhere, but within me, is always present, although I seldom “see” it or “know” it.
Over and over, though, I discover that this journey is not easy, and that no matter my resolve, no matter the effort I bring to the task, obstacles continue to arise. One victory I have gained is coming to accept that the journey comes with frequent setbacks — often caused by my own internal resistance. In fact, my ego seems to be constantly complaining about what I am missing, suggesting easier alternatives, hiding round every bend with subversions and inner turmoil.
Thus perseverance and determination are essential. With continuing effort, though, who I am becomes larger, expands beyond previous limitations. And my ego sometimes fades into unimportance, even disappears for a time. A larger “I” is present, even becoming one with awareness itself. There is an experience of pure consciousness — no stories and concepts at all. In such moments, I have felt one with everything, in deep communion with something greater.
Words fail here. But in these times a chain of images and feelings going back many years springs up, moments when listening to music, walking in the mountains, sitting in stillness, travelling in a foreign land, being deep in communion with a friend. These moments come together like links in a chain being forged into who I really am. At these times there is nowhere to go and nothing to do. Only To Be.
Then the thought sneaks in: “This is happening to me.” Presto, I am back in the ego again! I have fallen back into a smaller identity. It is not easy to stay in the garden. The ego is nothing if not persistent. It is amazing how quickly that little devil will take credit for experiences that are beyond it, how the ego can feel as if such moments are something it has accomplished.
Quite an irony! My ego takes credit for feelings that arise when it is absent, declaring ownership of times that can best be defined by its absence. When it is absent, though, there is a feeling that something extraordinary is present.
Skeptico: I know you don’t like to define what you refer to as “something greater,” but I need words.
Wisdom Seeker: You can call it “The Mystery,” “The Unseen Order,” “The Unknowable,” “Reality,” “The Tao,” Being Itself,” “The Numinous,” “The Absolute,” “The Divine,” “God.” Call it whatever you like, as long as you realize that words can only point in the general direction, and words are not It.
My Goal
Skeptico: This is getting pretty abstract again. Go back to your own experiences and what you have learned.
Wisdom Seeker: As I get older, it becomes increasingly clear that one of my primary goals is to spend more and more time in expanded states, in a larger identity, in touch with a larger reality. To do this, however, requires intention, practice — and the development of virtues.
Skeptico: Which virtues?
Wisdom Seeker: That is a story for another day. (If you want an answer right now, look at my essay, The Role of Character.)
Skeptico: What is your ultimate goal?
Wisdom Seeker: Perhaps my ultimate goal is to step out of all images and concepts and into “pure being,” “pure consciousness.” But what do those words mean? As I sit here and write, and talk with you, I am required to think, for writing and conversing require me to think. And thinking means my ego mind is engaged. This in turn separates me from clarity about the experiences I have had. Sometimes words can bring them partially back to life, but only partially.
But I have tasted that nectar. I can remember times of experiencing expanded states vividly. Here in this moment, though, it is hard to explain those experiences. Words are woefully inadequate to say what I feel, what I sometimes know. As Rumi said about the greater reality:
Define and narrow me — you starve yourself of yourself.
Nail me down in a box of cold words,
that box is your coffin.
Yet I sense the presence of those moments in me still, and there is a longing to return, to once more be in the garden, to experience again the summit of the mountain.
Thought Experiment — What is your goal?
Take a moment and try to formulate what your goal or goals are right now in your life.
Skeptico: You said that few of those who reach the summit are able to stay there permanently. I certainly don’t feel I would be capable of staying there even if I reached it, so why should I even try to get there, if I am just going to fall back?
Wisdom Seeker: René Daumal gives a fine answer to that question in his book, Mount Analogue.
“You cannot stay on the summit forever; you have to come down again. So why bother in the first place? Just this: What is above knows what is below, but what is below does not know what is above. One climbs, one sees. One descends, one sees no longer, but one has seen. There is an art of conducting oneself in the lower regions by the memory of what one saw higher up. When one can no longer see, one can at least still know.”
Daumal’s words return us to the idea that there are different levels of knowing. In a similar vein, T.S. Eliot asked: “Where is the knowledge that is lost in information? Where is the wisdom that in lost in knowledge?” Our culture makes available and encourages the accumulation of reams of information, but spends little time focusing on the importance of developing true knowledge, a deeper understanding about what all that information means, or how to use it wisely in our lives. The world is awash in billionaires who made their fortunes organizing and using information to make money.
At another level, lots of people are trying to find ways to use all that information to understand how the world works, but they do it by focusing on one specific area of knowledge. Thus today, many brilliant individuals — mathematicians, philosophers, scientists, lawyers, scholars, and business leaders — accumulate vast stores of knowledge about one specialized subject. But few understand the broader picture of how all that information fits together in an interconnected whole, or how to use what they know in their specialized area to make the world a better place. Or even to find meaning and fulfilment for themselves.
How many of those who have accumulated all that knowledge in one area of expertise have committed themselves to deeply understanding the most important things — how to live, how to love, how to have a fulfilling life? Very, very few. Often those who are brilliant in one area of knowledge understand less than the average person about the most important aspects of life.
As for the final level, that of acquiring true wisdom, they are rare indeed. That pearl of great price — coming to “know” and be able to live the deepest mysteries of existence — is gained by very few. And only by those who are willing to make the necessary effort and sacrifice.
Skeptico: Why effort and sacrifice?
Wisdom Seeker: I have discovered over and over that one of the most powerful and natural instincts is to avoid problems and difficulties. It is at least as strong as the urge to succeed, or to have pleasurable moments. These two sets of urges — to find pleasure and success while avoiding difficulties, pain, and suffering, are, as the Buddha said, powerful currents in all of us. Yet to know and live our highest possibilities means to go beyond enslavement to these primal drives. Thus the need for effort and sacrifice.
Another important lesson I have learned is that — although it is sometimes possible to avoid problems and difficulties, sometimes it is not. We are blindsided by some, and we do not take others seriously until it is too late, even if we see them coming. Or we are not willing to take the unwanted actions (usually unwanted by the ego) that would be necessary to avoid them.
Even for those who are vigilant and courageous, difficulties come. In looking at the lives of people I know, and have read about, the number and degree of problems each person has faced defies rational explanation. Sometimes it seems terribly unfair. But no matter the difficulties in our lives, one thing is clear: Every one of us has the possibility of growth and development, right up to the last breath. I am reminded of Rumi’s poem, “Borrow the Beloved’s Eyes,” in which he says:
If you can’t do this work yourself, don’t worry.
You don’t even have to make a decision, one way or another.
The reason you don’t have to make a decision? Because life:
will bring difficulties,
and grief, and sickness,
as medicine, as happiness,
as the essence of the moment
when you’re beaten.
Skeptico: The moment you are beaten is a good thing?
Wisdom Seeker: How else will you get beyond your ego, unless it is beaten? As long as it is winning, will it ever give up?
Kathleen D. Singh, in her excellent book, The Grace in Dying: How We Are Transformed Spiritually as We Die, describes many transformational moments of growth and awakening among those who are close to death, often even those who are suffering physical pain. And in Extraordinary Awakenings: When Trauma Leads to Transformation, British professor and researcher Steve Taylor explores how some people who suffered unbelievable trauma came out on the other side completely transformed — a few achieving a state of enlightenment, or complete grace.
Dissolving the Subject/Object Barrier
Whatever the difficulties life brings, or we bring on ourselves, one way to continue to grow is to study and learn from the wisdom traditions, and one consistent message they give is that true wisdom requires stepping out of the ego, dissolving the distinction between subjective and objective.
Splitting the world into categories is a function of the ego, while those who are able to look through Emerson’s transcendent eye for a moment have a direct knowing beyond all dualities. When, as Emerson put it, “all mean egotism vanishes,” there is no longer a me in here looking at objects out there. Rather, there is a unity of which everything is a part.
Carl Jung explored this mysterious terrain and how our experience of the everyday world is affected by it through the concept of synchronicity. He observed that events in the outer world and in one’s consciousness are sometimes linked without any physical cause or logical explanation. In this non-physical link between the mind and the world, he observed that we can sometimes discover our connection to the larger order of things. Jung did not know how this connection worked, but he made a powerful case that synchronicity could sometimes reveal deeper meanings.
Allan Smith, a medical scientist in Oakland, California, spontaneously experienced this collapse of the categories of subject and object while he was sitting quietly at home one evening. During his powerful experience, he “merged with the light and everything” and “became one unified whole.” In his words:
“There was no separation between myself and the rest of the universe. To say that there was a universe, a self, or any “thing” would be misleading. … To say that subject merged with object might be almost adequate … but during Cosmic Consciousness there was neither “subject” nor “object.” All words or discursive thinking had stopped and there was no sense of an “observer” to comment or to categorize what was “happening.” In fact, there were no discrete events to “happen” — just a timeless, unitary state of being.”
Experiences of this kind cannot be forced to happen, but they can be cultivated. Evelyn Underhill, author of the seminal work, Mysticism, said one needs only to fully concentrate on an “act of loving sight” — toward a person, another living thing, or even on an object. Simply by pouring “your personality towards” the thing chosen, letting “your soul be in your eyes,” a marvelous transformation happens:
“You will perceive about you a strange and deepening quietness, a slowing down of … feverish mental time. Next, you will become aware of a heightened significance, an intensified existence in the thing at which you look.”
For those who can “lean out towards” that which seems to be outside, concentrating on it with their full consciousness, this magic arises: “It seems as though the barrier between its life, and your own, between subject and object, has melted away.” Then, subject and object are no longer present, but only one knowing, one sense of “aware presence.”
Wise men and women through the ages have reported various boons from achieving this state, one being the ability to “see” another person clearly. Those who can put aside personal views and concentrate intently on another person can see more clearly the needs of another because that person is no longer “other.”
To truly know another perhaps the only requirement is to care more about what that person is thinking and feeling than about your own feelings and thoughts. This “knowing” of another person actually happens with some frequency in peoples’ lives. Not, perhaps, as intensely or as often as with the wise ones of history, but many of us have had a moment when we felt a deep sense of knowing about what was going on within another person — when listening intently to a friend in distress, when in a special moment of connection with someone we love, when a parent is intensely focused on a sick child, when a compassionate therapist is focused on a client, or when a dedicated doctor is completely attuned to a patient.
Other Ways of Knowing
This kind of “knowing” arises from the collapse of the thinking mind’s conceptual boundaries between “I” and “Thou,” between subject and object. Anyone who can step out of the ego perspective for a moment will “know” another in a different way. A recent study collected many reports of mothers through the ages talking about their experience of sensing what was going on with a child at a distance. And modern researchers have repeatedly confirmed this dramatic occurrence. There is also a good bit of research about identical twins “knowing” things about each other that could not have been acquired by any communication process we can explain in a scientific way.
Similarly, there have been several studies in recent years that confirm that many people can sense that something, usually bad, has happened to a loved one or close friend who is far away. History is full of such reports.
(Dozens of good books document thousands of examples of all these things. Some of my favorites are: Irreducible Mind and Beyond Physicalism by Edward Kelly, et.al. Rupert Sheldrake has half a dozen books that include hundreds of scientific studies. Other favorites are William James, The Varieties of Religious Experience; Elizabeth Lloyd Mayer, Extraordinary Knowing; Willis Harman, Higher Creativity; Chris Carter, Science and Psychic Phenomena; and Diane Hennacy Powell, The ESP Enigma —The Scientific Case for Psychic Phenomena.)
Examples of this broader way of knowing range from the selfish to the sublime: A few gamblers have been banned from casinos because they have an uncanny knack for making the right “guess” much more often than can be explained by chance, while stories of great saints and sages “knowing” all sorts of things fill spiritual literature. There are hundreds of detailed, reputable studies about these phenomena, yet no one has been able to determine how they happen within our current paradigm of information transfer.
Perhaps it is as simple (and difficult) as the ability to put one’s own ego aside, to become fully focused beyond oneself, rather than on one’s own feelings, thoughts, and needs. Perhaps the final explanation is as simple as one word: love. A common denominator in many of these experiences is that people know what is happening with a person they love because their love overrides their own ego for a moment.
Whatever the explanation, no area of human life is exempt from these experiences, and it is quite active in the present day. Broader ways of knowing are impinging as insights into peoples’ lives constantly, frequently reported by artists, poets, and religious mystics. And scientists. As discussed in the last essay, many of the greatest scientific breakthroughs came as revelations in dreams or as flashes of insight that cannot be explained by any normal, rational thinking process. These insights have happened so frequently in science that one of the greatest philosophers of science, Karl Popper, said that most original scientific discoveries are “non-rational.” They do not come from any known rational process.
Looked at from the perspective of the well-documented ability to tune in to a broader way of knowing, we could speculate that these discoveries occurred when scientists were attuned to the larger picture, when they were able to experience a perspective beyond the ego’s thinking concepts. Maybe, in such moments, some aspect of the world is no longer seen as an object “out there,” but as part of a pattern that is experienced as a unity, of which the one having the insight is a part. (See my book Art, Science, Religion, Spirituality for a longer discussion.)
Skeptico: You have used “maybe” and “perhaps” a lot in talking about these things.
Wisdom Seeker: Yes, I have. But these words are appropriate because we simply do not know how these things happen. What is beyond dispute, though, beyond “maybe” and “perhaps,” is that these other ways of knowing have been reported frequently throughout history — in all fields of human endeavor, in all areas of life. Many of these reports involve information of great importance, leading to major breakthroughs in science, the founding of the world’s religions, and the artistic inspiration of most great artists. Last, but certainly not least, this other way of knowing has provided a deep sense of connection between countless individuals through the ages.
No wonder we humans have gone to great trouble to learn how to experience these expanded states of consciousness. Recognizing their importance, every culture has developed ways to encourage their occurrence through practices such as prayer, meditation, yoga, drumming, singing, chanting, shamanic voyaging, fasting, pushing the body to exhaustion, transformational music, the use of mind-altering drugs, rituals of all kinds, inducing trance states, facilitating out-of-body experiences, practicing remote viewing, and on and on. Through these practices, as well as by reflecting on dreams, visions, premonitions, and near-death experiences, people throughout history have sought to access information from beyond the subject/object divide, developing techniques to dissolve the ego-constructs that separate us from others and from the world.
All these practices have differences from each other, and the results among individuals vary enormously. They all have in common, however, the attempt to get beyond the constraints of the ego and to open into a broader view of who we are and what life is about. And many wise men and women through the ages have used them to understand and get in harmony with the larger reality within which we exist.
An Image of “Knowing”
As we struggle with the problems of the modern world, one place we often overlook in seeking answers is to early peoples, some of whose cultures have been continuous for thousands of years (such as the Aboriginal Australians and tribal peoples in many other remote areas.) A group of scientists from Harvard went to Australia and found that the native people clearly had the ability to locate friends or relatives over great distances without any “objective” information being available. Most of us in the west do not have the ability to do this intentionally, but many earlier peoples did. This is true of a number of other abilities, such as how to live together within a group and how to respect and take care of the land. It is therefore important for us today to discover and integrate some of the wisdom of ancient times, for early peoples possessed several things we have lost, including the ability to “know” in a spiritual way.
One inspiring example of a person who opened into another way of knowing through an ancient path comes from Robert Wolff, a psychologist who worked for years in Malaysia for the government there. During his spare time, separate from his regular job, Robert sought out and got to know a small, remote tribe living deep in the jungle. After the tribal members came to trust him, the wise man of the tribe began guiding Robert into a deeper way of knowing.
In his book, Original Wisdom: Stories of an Ancient Way of Knowing, Robert writes that this process was slow and difficult, and he often felt like he was making no progress whatsoever. Then one day, months after he had begun and after many weeks of frustrating experiences in the jungle, he had this transformative moment:
“Standing over a leaf with a little water in it, somewhere in the jungles of Malaysia, I did not think in words. I did not think. I bathed in that overwhelming sense of oneness. I felt as if a light was lit deep inside me.”
He says he felt bathed in “love,” and “a very deep sense of belonging.”
As Robert slowly came out of this experience, he realized that the shaman had disappeared. He panicked. They had been walking for hours, night was falling, he was a long way from the tribal camp, and he didn’t have any idea how to find his way back through the darkening jungle without the shaman to guide him. His first impulse was to shout for help, but then:
“The sense of being part of this wonderful whole was so strong that I could not raise my voice. I opened my mouth and tried to make a sound, but no sound would pass my throat. I could not possibly disturb this oneness by yelling, by feeling panicked. I could not be afraid — after all, I was part of this all-ness.”
With this realization, a profound change came over him: “My life changed in that moment.” Suddenly he knew he could find his way back to the village by himself, even in the darkness, no matter how far it was. He had a sudden sense of knowing where the shaman was at that moment, although he could not see or hear him. Robert seemed to simply “see” the whole picture. He knew the shaman was headed back to the village, exactly where he was in the jungle, and knew he could catch up if it was necessary.
But Robert was no longer afraid, and decided in that instant to stay by himself in the jungle so he could “know this new world more intimately.” His fears, even of being alone in the jungle at night, had vanished with the coming of a deep “knowing.”
For Robert, this experience was the beginning of a years-long process during which he worked diligently to integrate what he began learning that night. It was a completely new way of knowing for him, but one which he realized had been part of that tribe’s wisdom for a very long time. This learning process was not easy for Robert, and there were many ups and downs along the way. The journey of expanding into the highest levels of realization and awareness is seldom easy, no matter which path you follow.
Back in his normal world, Robert’s journey continued for several years, and he started to experience this new way of knowing more often as his life continued. He visited the shaman a few more times and felt he was learning a completely different “sense” in himself, unlike anything he had known before. Along the way, Robert had more powerful experiences, including in his “normal” life, as he learned “to put my mind aside and use some other sense to know.” The key was to find a way to “not think anything.”
Robert did not know how to put what he was experiencing into words that a modem western reader would understand: “What this other sense is, I do not know.” But he felt he should try, for it had become very important to him and he wanted to share it. He says:
“For me it is very real. It probably is a quality we all have to a greater or lesser degree. For me it works when I can get out of my mind, when I can experience without having to understand, or name, or position, or judge, or categorize.”
Living in the Garden
Skeptico: Robert Wolff’s story is pretty incredible. Do you believe it?
Wisdom Seeker: He speaks with a sincerity that seems credible. And his experience corresponds with the reports of traditional peoples the world over throughout history. Further, many travelers who have been open to broader possibilities have reported similar experiences when interacting with tribal peoples.
And importantly, modernity has discovered nothing to suggest these experiences are not within human possibility. In fact, they are similar to mystical experiences in every culture and religion. One of the greatest physicists of all time, Werner Heisenberg, reminds us, “Not only is the Universe stranger than we think, it is stranger than we can think.” Highlighting how little we know about this mysterious world, Shakespeare said through Hamlet: “There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.” Perhaps this is also what Jesus was suggesting by his enigmatic words in the Gospel of Thomas, “The kingdom is spread out upon the earth, and people do not see it.” Perhaps these extraordinary experiences are a glimpse of the kingdom that is “spread out upon the earth.”
A forceful statement of the importance of staying open to experiences such as these comes from Sir John Carew Eccles, a neurophysiologist who won the Nobel Prize in medicine:
“I maintain that the human mystery is incredibly demeaned by scientific reductionism, with its claim in promissory materialism to account eventually for all of the spiritual world in terms of patterns of neuronal activity. This belief must be classed as a superstition … we have to recognize that we are spiritual beings with souls existing in a spiritual world as well as material beings with bodies and brains existing in a material world.”
One image that captures what the underlying reality might be like comes from mathematician and philosopher Alfred North Whitehead, who suggested that the foundational current of life is “an all-embracing chaotic Attractor, acting throughout the world by gentle persuasion toward love.”
I am especially fond of this quote because it says there is a force in the universe tugging us toward love (the ultimate connecting current), but that we are not forced to align with it. We have a choice in each moment how we will respond to this “Attractor.” Will we try to come into harmony with it, or will we ignore its call in order to pursue our individual egoic ambitions?
Skeptico: But I must have something practical to focus on if I want to try to climb this metaphorical mountain. What should I do right now?
Wisdom Seeker: Here are some time-tested ways to move toward the summit of the mountain. Pick the ones that seem most appropriate for you right now and just begin. (You must pick your own because the right mix for each person is different.)
(1) commit to one or more spiritual disciplines (prayer, meditation, being in nature, chanting, listening to inspiring or meditative music, or others that you have encountered)
(2) cultivate one or more traits the wisdom figures have emphasized as important — love, gratitude, compassion, kindness, peace, wonder, honesty, courage, equanimity, joy
(3) be of service to others, especially those who are suffering and in need
(4) study one or more of the wisdom traditions, trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together in a way that fit for you now
(5) work within a tradition or with a teacher
(6) use creativity as a practice (many artists have had deep insights into life and reality through artistic endeavors)
(7) pay attention to the people and things for which you are grateful, and frequently express your gratitude
(8) share what you are discovering with others
(9) find a way to be in close relationship with the natural world
(10) cultivate humility — the world is vast and complex, and each of us understands so little of all that is, and thinking you already know creates an impenetrable barrier
There are, of course, other practices that teachers and traditions have suggested. But if you do not have a clear path right now, just pick some of the above practices, the ones that seem best to you in your quieter moments, and commit to them for a while. Follow them as diligently as you can until you come to a fork in the road, a place you feel it is time to choose once again which way you will go.
In short, just begin. You must start on some path if you are going to climb even three feet up the mountain. As you proceed, sometimes the trail ahead will seem clear, other times it will be shrouded in fog and mist. Hard questions will arise, such as: Am I on the right path? Am I fooling myself? How do I judge how I am doing?
The only answers I know are: (a) get in touch with your deepest “felt sense” as best you can; (b) verify it against the accumulated wisdom of the traditions and teachers who seem authentic to you; (c) trust your best sense for a while; (d) keep going.
Skeptico: How will I know when I have arrived?
Wisdom Seeker: Perhaps you are there if you have an experience like that of the Zen poet Izumi Shikibu:
Watching the moon at dawn,
solitary, mid-sky,
I knew myself completely:
no part left out.
Or that of Li Po:
The birds have vanished into the sky,
and now the last cloud drains away.
We sit together, the mountain and me,
until only the mountain remains.
Or if you share the experience of Christian mystic Dame Julian of Norwich:
“See! I am God; See! I am in all things; See! I do all things.”
Or with the Christian mystic Jacob Boehme you experience at the deepest level:
“The knower and the known are one.”
Or with Zen Master Wumen Huikai you can say:
One instant is eternity;
eternity is the now.
When you see through this one instant,
you see through the one who sees.