being seeing is being peace
yes, but who is “being seeing”?
no one, only the beingness of sensorial perception
– some folk would call it primordial awareness
yes, but who is “being peace”?
no one, only the beingness of choiceless awareness
– some folk would call it pure consciousness
yes, but “who is”?
no one, only all-that-is, right-now, right-here
– some folk would call it simple suchness
My mother celebrates 90 orbits of the sun today.
Hale and hearty – if stone deaf and shorter than before,
she embodies the wideawake knowingness that what she IS
has never been born and will never die:
ageless unborn awareness.
It took a while, but daughter can at last confess that she’s a chip off the old block.
[Inquiring into THIS – referred to here as ‘IT’, unlit light, primordial awareness, wideawakeness, unknowable knowingness, Beloved – is a practice often recommended in nondual teachings.]
What is this?
Is it nameable?
No – not truthfully – it is prior to all naming.
Is it a thing?
No – it can’t be found or measured.
Is it nothing?
No – it’s everywhere ‘I’ looks
listens, touches, tastes, smells, feels.
The door theme continues; scribbler scribbles.
For some folk – read yours truly – Wideawakeness seems to go with ruthless questioning of non-negotiable assumptions – beliefs and opinions we often don’t even know are lurking below the limn of consciousness. We use words and scarcely give a thought to the fact that they are nothing but signifiers.
What if a “door” turned out to be not-a-door at all, but a collection of contributing qualities and attributes that could be traced all the way back to what we call the Big Bang? What if a “path” turned out to be similar? And the “gate” of the Zenner’s koan as well? And what if you looked deeply enough at the “me” and failed to find anything that could be claimed to be “self-existent”?
And what if you went even further and found that the appearance of what any of these signifiers signified could not be claimed to exist apart from the Awareness that perceives them? And what if you then turned your inquiry to that Awareness (which cannot be objectified, but only referenced in a ‘thought experiment’) and realized that even IT could never exist without the display it is Awareing? And what if you realized you couldn’t extricate your sense of self from that movement of Aware-ing-ness?
Wouldn’t that send a tsunami over your little island of separate ‘me-ness’?
The waves engulf, destroy, cleanse and retreat. If there’s been no withdrawal – if ripeness has ripened – a new vista opens up. The Lamas call it The Great View.
Awareness and Consciousness – these two words are often used interchangeably. But my teachers were sticklers for using the right word in the right place and I’m a bit of a pedant as well. So I’ve been inquiring into what I mean when I use these terms.
Consciousness is its content – or, all that is consciously known. (Krishnamurti, Bohm) There’s no access to perception’s data – or memory of it – without consciousness. And we can now observe it and measure it with awesome scientific instruments.
And here’s the key point: If it can be observed and measured, influenced and affected, consciousness must be a type of object. It has a host of functions, but they aren’t static ‘things’ so much as processes. However, even as processes, functioning, there’s still (you must look very closely) an awareness of such processes. Something silent and changeless watches the computer’s analysis without analysing, witnesses all the experiments and research without opinion or conclusion. Something that cannot be objectified.
We have never yet succeeded in observing or measuring or affecting that fundamental, primordial Awareness in any way via any technology. That’s the difference between Awareness and Consciousness as far as I’m concerned. I equate primordial Awareness with Emptiness, and view IT as the source and substance of all the functions of consciousness.
Primordial awareness is the Beloved.
Consciousness creates ITs dream.
But don’t be deceived:
they are not two.
The tropical sun rises in a typically cloudless sky, sails behind tall eucalypts and timber trellis, projects patterns of golden light and shade on the wall – soft foliage, crisscross trellis with hanging orchids, and in sharper focus, the graceful fronds of potted palms, metal filigree of security screen, and the delicate cotton lacework of the curtain.
All is a-shimmer in ceaseless motion – a wondrous appearance that I cannot find anywhere outside of this mind.
And what views the arisings in this mind?
Ahhhh. That’s the question to silence all questions.