What is insight?

Mystical intuition and insight are the heart of esoteric spirituality—flashes of illumination beyond any practice or effort that show the way to enlightenment and the realization of our true nature. Without these spontaneous openings, mysticism would be just another philosophy of life, attempting by reason to unravel the riddle of human existence. Only with insight can the conundrums of form and emptiness, truth and appearance, mind and matter, find resolution. Through them we gain, in varying degrees, experiential access to the underlying unseen order that is our true source and being.

 These intuitions unveil the long-forgotten world that preceded language, those few years of early childhood untouched by the ceaseless cognitive mapping that has subsequently quantified, qualified, and defined every known aspect of what is. Mystical insight is seeing without boundaries or discrimination, seeing with beginner’s mind. It is what the Sufis are pointing to when they speak of discernment through “the eye of the heart.” Abrupt and wordless, these fleeting glimpses of what is bypass the conceptual filters of memories, associations, and learning. They are momentary openings into the way things are, providing a sense of the seamless, unified world in which we are intimately, but unconsciously, embedded. Perhaps you can get a sense of what insights are like from the following two metaphors: dot-to-dot drawings, and sunrise.

When we were children, dot-to-dot drawings were a common pastime and a lot of fun. We would carefully connect one dot to the next, not knowing what the picture would turn out to be. As more dots connected, we could begin to guess, and often, before we even finished, we would suddenly realize we were drawing an elephant or a pony or an airplane. Those who undertake the search for mystical truth, similarly, start by connecting the dots in the dark. Though they may study eagerly, work with a teacher faithfully, and practice daily, for many confusion still reigns. The meaning of such paradoxical teachings is so elusive that few students grasp their intent at the outset. They go on working dot by dot until, without warning, they catch a sudden glimpse of the whole picture—the Promised Land.

We often speak of knowledge “dawning” on us, and in truth, the gradual process by which mystical insight penetrates the ignorance of conditioning is much like the rising of the sun. As its first rays begin to catch the contours of the land, more and more details come to light until the world around us glistens brightly in the morning dew. Similarly, each insight reveals to us with greater clarity the nature of what is, as the light of spiritual realization dispels delusion and unveils the truth of things as they are. For some, this truth may indeed open up in a sudden blaze of understanding like the midday sun, but for many, the moment of true awakening is preceded by the subtle shifts of insight that help to prepare the way. As Emily Dickinson tells us, “The truth dazzles gradually, or else the world would be blind.”

You are not what you think

When we are born, our vision is fresh. The world as we first experience it is undifferentiated and timeless, and we have no real perception of self or other. We can see the magic of life without filters and become totally lost in fascination, one with our surroundings. But when we are educated, taught language and the lessons of good and evil, our vision becomes restricted. We start to see the world through the dualistic filter of concepts, with the grid of borders and boundaries it superimposes on everything. The holistic wide-angle lens view of our birth is transformed, and our vision refocuses on the sharply defined piecemeal view of reality that makes up our modern culture. While life as we know it would not be possible without language and concepts, and our very survival depends on them, we forget that they are only tools. The map is not the territory, but conceptual habits become unconscious assumptions that automatically frame our reality. We live within the confines of a hand-me-down view of the world that everyone around us shares, and we never even suspect the possibility of seeing in another way.

The process of identification with self is initiated by our parents when they name us and, in effect, tell us who we are. As we grow up, the idea is reinforced and endlessly repeated at every age and in every setting. Whenever we meet new people, for example, from kindergarten to retirement, introductions begin with our names. As if the enculturation of language were not enough, our sense of identity is further solidified by an extensive paper trail, beginning with our certificates of birth. With each year, more documents accumulate around us: school records, medical histories, credit reports, legal agreements, tax statements—just to name a few. As adults, whether we are making a purchase, visiting the doctor, casting a vote, or doing any number of other common things, we are routinely asked to show proof of who we are. The process goes on and on, and we unquestioningly identify with this separate, limited and vulnerable self.

The relationship between self and the wholeness of our true nature can be compared to the way clouds can block our view of the sky. The clouds represent the egos we parade through life: some are large and impressive, others meek or insignificant. Some have beautiful forms that capture our interest, and others flaunt the power of their dark, threatening thunder. Behind the play of these numberless, ever-changing forms lies a sky forever the same. This unchanging presence symbolizes the Absolute, the truth behind all phenomena, and we can see it clearly only when the clouds have drifted away. With us it is no different. Only when our concepts of what we are dissolve in realization, can we begin to see the truth so long obscured.

What is nonduality?

Nonduality is a term that many folks are not familiar with, but as you may have discovered already in my book or in another one on the subject, it lies at the core of all the world’s wisdom traditions. Nonduality is that forgotten dimension where unity is found in multiplicity, and it is what all the world’s sacred traditions and sages identify as our true nature. Sometimes referred to as the absolute, the invisible, the Divine, or simply suchness, this aspect of our being has no boundaries or divisions, no distinctions between this and that, and no sequence of before and after. Beneath the surface play of phenomena, there is a formless, undifferentiated realm invisible to the naked eye; devoid of all parts, there remains only the unceasing flow and energy of life.

In stark contrast is the reality with which we are all familiar. It is defined by duality; opposition and contrast are everywhere in our ordinary surroundings. Through years of conditioning, we learn to see ourselves as separate and alone in a world of endless divisions, and this delusion of self brings the suffering and meaninglessness so characteristic of the human condition. We are conditioned to see things dualistically, within an either/or framework. Our lives constantly swing between fortune and loss, pleasure and pain, good and evil, and all the other polarities that characterize everyday experience as we know it. This is the realm where we get snarled in traffic, win at tennis, watch our 401(k) go down, and grow old. It sets the stage for the universal spiritual drama, and it is the condition in which we discover our nakedness, self-conscious and separate from everything else. Just as we cannot know hot without cold, or up without down, it is only as individuals alone and vulnerable that we intuit the wholeness that is missing—our true nature. From this moment on, whether we realize it or not, our deepest desire is for this wholeness. It is the state of being we yearn for and the goal of our spiritual quest.

From meditation to mantras, from koans to the Kabbalah, the shared objective of all the great wisdom traditions is clear: all strive to penetrate the conditioning and habituation that blinds us to our true nature. Whether these paths are called mysticism, the way of nonduality, or esoteric spirituality, they find unity where conventional religions see only division and separation. Though separated by centuries, if not millennia, and embedded in cultures that have little in common on the surface, they declare with extraordinary consensus that the world is a seamless whole.

How is one who is new to mystical ideas to grasp the meaning of these words? It might be possible by comparing them to something with which we are already familiar. In this case, metaphorically, a mystic’s realization of wholeness would be like a wave realizing that water is its true nature. This insight would allow the wave to see that the distinctions and boundaries between it and other waves, and the ocean itself, are only apparent. There is nothing but wholeness. The shared identity of all names and forms is a mystical truth that remains deeply buried in the unconscious levels of our being. The fact remains, however, that all is one, and one is all.

Are you present for your life?

Are you living your life consciously? Are you present for the extraordinary wonder of being alive? Are you awake or are you sleep-walking? Buddhist Master Thich Nhat Hanh says you don’t have to walk on water to have a miracle. All you need to do is walk on this very earth. But you must do it consciously. Now you may be saying to yourself, this is ridiculous. How could I lead the complicated, fast-pace life I lead without being conscious? How do I get so much done? Who just got the promotion or the nice raise? But let me ask you this. Have you ever driven to work, and when you pulled into the parking lot, realized you weren’t consciously present for the drive? Scary isn’t it? We all do this, and we do it a lot. We pride ourselves in our ability to multitask. We are so busy, our minds are so full of things that need to be done yesterday, that we forget to be present for what is most important. Do you ever really look deeply into the eyes of your friend, spouse or partner, and ponder the preciousness of the moment? Is the piano concerto that you have playing only background music, or do you allow yourself to be drawn into its beauty? Do you ever just sit on the porch and listen to it rain? It is the everyday things like this that make our lives so incredible.

Zen teachers tell a timeless story about a fish in search of the great ocean of life. Oblivious to the water all around it, the fish swims great distances in its quest, with no results; it cannot find the ocean anywhere it looks. The fish is living in the ocean, but doesn’t realize it. If the fish were rudely yanked out of the water on a fisherman’s hook, however, the elusive goal would suddenly become obvious: water is its very life. Our experience is quite similar. We are immersed in life, in the flesh and blood of our existence, but blindly seek fulfillment elsewhere. We spend most of our lives in mental games and abstractions, puzzling over what life means, while the truth is all around us. We simply need to wake up and smell the proverbial roses. This is it! Just this. Yet we often don’t realize it until, like the hapless fish, we find ourselves out of our element, gasping for air. When suffering abruptly interrupts the normal flow of things and shakes us out of our routines, it is an opportunity to see life from a deeper, more substantive perspective—but one we often miss. How many of us fail to see the truth of life until we are close to death? Then the simple sound of a bird’s song or the smell of baking bread can bring us to tears. Some fish are thrown back and get a second chance, but it is very risky for us to count on such a reprieve.