To Be

 

I’ve been thinking about the word “be” for a few days. I think of it as a way to reduce the “I” to its most fundamental experience. To be is the amness of I. However, as irregular as it is, be is a verb. With this in mind, and circling back to the spiritual, I am reminded of Psalm 46:10, that says, “Be still and know that I am God.”

I want to point out that only stillness and knowledge stand out in this verse; otherwise, it may as well read, “I Am, I Am, I Am.”

Be: Proto-Germanic “I Am.”

I Am: “I Am.”

God: “I Am.”

Stillness is quietness, calmness and silence. Knowledge, traced to its origin, is awareness of a Superior.

Descartes famously said, “I think, therefore I am,” but thinking is actually a mechanistic feature of the self. To be aware is only awareness; to think of the same awareness is activity in the mind. Thinking and awareness are not the same. The invisible stillness between thoughts is awareness.

If we really want to know God, we must be still. Thoughts are words which form as a way of computing. The self is fully contained in the body. All of our experiences have included ourselves. Each self needs information, so each self has a computer. However, the computer does not sense anything. If you see a mountain range, the computer does not see a mountain range; it takes the signals coming from the eyes and it forms a replica of the same mountain range in the computer. Your brain is in a completely dark skull. The light that reveals the mountain range cannot penetrate your skull at any point, so the mountain range you “see” cannot be the same one that exists. Once a copy of the mountain range has been fully developed, it may cause a feeling to occur. The feeling – whatever it may be – is not a thought. If the experience of a mountain range fills you with wonder, it is not because of the fancy replication of a mountain range, courtesy of your brain. It is devoid of thought and wordless. Thoughts in our brains are our liaisons to feelings. Feelings can be expressed with words and thoughts can give rise to feelings, but feelings and thoughts are two separate aspects of two separate entities: the self and The Higher Self. Only The Higher Self can feel.

You cannot convey the feeling of a mountain range. You can offer pictures and you could talk about it, but feelings do not convey. If you saw a mountain range and were moved by it emotionally, you could tell me all about it and I may or may not develop a feeling of my own.

Feeling is essential. Feeling is creative. Feeling is powerful.

I heard Christof Koch explain how we’d done away with the idea that a soul and the self are separate. I certainly hope not. If everything can be explained in terms I can comprehend with thoughts, then I am a machine. There are two of me: one thinks, the other feels.

I feel, therefore I Am

 

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