If it seems an argument is being made, and has been; that life (and our own consciousness in it as we call it) on this material plane is actively prevented from any true knowledge, immanent, immediate, and pure by the very nature of being of consigned to materiality; that is because it is. The argument is substantial and unrelenting. Holding at best only to concepts we believe true, even such notion as truth, our frustrations are such that we only approach their reality in metaphor, or has been said in another place, in types and shadows.
This is our precious predicament. One might even consider how that such concepts, like a carrot held out of reach to a donkey affixed to it by a stick, ever provokes but never comes within reach. They torment us to activity. We have, know, or sense some compelling to apprehend or understand what is real but as an integral part of this reality (as our minds convince us of our reality) we are bound up in it and to it, and can never “get outside” to view it in any objectivity. We are always subject to what our own minds and consciousness make of it. We are the gods of our own reality. We may not prefer to think thus, for to us it is plainly an entrance into crazy land: “Things are only as how I choose to view them” is rarely admitted.
But once we find out we are already there another predicament presents…where is the exit? Is there an exit? How would I even know it…if such a thing is, or could even be seen? If all is so skewed by my self to my self, what hope of any escape? Look now at what I have done (even to myself) in acknowledging such a thing as crazy is, vs. sane, truth vs. lie, understanding vs. ignorance. I am locked in to a fall. For to admit to, or hold to one as being a “real thing” I automatically assign the other a justifiable reality also. To come to see that living in and by such comparison is ubiquitous and inescapable to the mind of man is a dread predicament. It even touches our most fundamental notions; those things we say “we know”. And are our springboard of all consequent motions. On the most fundamental level it could even come to one that he (or she) is only relatively…alive. Comparatively…alive. Even and only…relatively conscious.
I am no guide here. Hold no certificate that testifies of any successful navigating. If I do see a fatal flaw, an Achilles heel, it is no less part and parcel of my own material makeup than any other I might ascribe it to, or seek to hang it upon. It is the simple (perhaps all our simplest) presumption that to know about a thing is to know that thing. Am I as convinced of myself my consciousness is in no way less than yours? Or that in yours there’s a whisper of “but my knowing is better” just as in mine? A whisper easily escalating to a shout if, and when, it seems needful?
And if, or perhaps better…when…I am shown wrong in all these considerations, these thousands of words, is some deficiency exhibited? Is it compounded by my saying “I have no care for it”? Would you think or say within yourself “that is a wrong attitude, that is bad to hold to”?
Be careful at least. For in that place of your acknowledging wrong and bad (or evil) you justify the existence (even to your own self) of a thing called right…and a matter called good.
What “good” is.
How right is?
Or, do you only know “about it”?
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