Knowledge is not Knowing

“Do not deceive yourself about what the problem is, and you must recognize it has been solved.” (ACIM, W-80.7:4)

For most of my “spiritual life” I have been deluded by imagining some spiritual high point, some promised land of spiritual attainment that I might, with a sufficiency of desire and assiduous study and practice, finally achieve. Perceiving spiritual truth as a progressive path that would gradually accumulate and build upon this person called I, each new insight and revelation added to a perceived sense of “becoming” more enlightened.

As I became a minister and shared my beliefs with a community of spiritual seekers, I felt like I was expanding my knowledge and fomenting skill in articulating deep spiritual concepts. This bolstered my faith in the notion that I was "growing in grace and truth." Being seen as a spiritual leader added credibility and reinforced my sense of evolving spiritual expertise. For the most part, I believed in a story of “my spiritual growth” and felt like I was on the right path, both personally and professionally.

However, occasionally there would be little hiccups in consciousness where I would sense that something wasn’t quite right. There would be times when a niggling doubt would come to the surface, and I would feel something was missing in my experience. The teachings were not squaring with my internal sense of being. It felt like I was standing on one side of a chasm, feeling bereft of peace and happiness while seeing a plethora of lofty spiritual ideals stacked out of reach on the other side. In those moments, which were particularly uncomfortable and destabilizing I would either distract myself until the feeling passed, or I would delve into the written word which would effectively, albeit temporarily, overwrite the discomfiture. Or I would appease myself by recalling that even great sages went through “dark nights of the soul”, i.e. John of the Cross, Mother Theresa, Jesus in the Garden, etc. all had their moments of doubt and so I reasoned, I too, was entitled to mine. But what was not equivalent was that these feelings of disconnect and emptiness were not profound episodes that came as defining moments in my spiritual unfoldment as they were in those advanced souls but arising with ever-increasing frequency. Nearly every time I went into contemplation or meditation on spiritual matters, the nagging discomfort was there, like a dull heartache that put my intention at odds with my experience. I tried doubling down on my study, reading more, hoping that by learning more, I would keep the wolves of doubt at bay. But my efforts were doomed to fail because the mind cannot satisfy the longing of the heart. One can know “about truth, " which is the mind’s domain, but “knowing the truth” is the promised land of everlasting peace and well-being, strictly the domain of the heart.

Though I realized that I could only discover the truth by being still and quiet, in that state of open awareness, my doubts could not remain hidden. So I avoided meditation, and my spiritual practice, if you could call it that, became in large part, a mental process. I carried on, reading, listening to great teachers, and contemplating, with the hope that the more I understood, the more learned a student of truth I became, the closer I would get to being enlightened.

I sensed there was a wiser way but could not find it and that dissatisfaction was ameliorated by my ability to continue giving inspirational talks, sometimes feeling that my skill in articulating these deep ideas was improving from this knowledge-based approach. But the heart’s yearning would not abate, and that discomfort continued to wear down my resolve to remain in a spiritual leadership role. There were other stress factors as well, but central to the need to step away from being the “mouthpiece for truth” was the disconnect between the words I spoke and the knowing in my heart.

Many of you reading this may find my “journey” similar to your own, recognizing the “seeking but not finding,” the investment of time, and sincere intention and yet feeling little or no progress in your “knowing” of the truth, or, in religious terms, no closer to God. And some of you, I suspect, will have recognized the glaring flaw in my understanding, the bug in the program that lies at the root of the frustration and lack of true spiritual realization. Where I was mistaken in my understanding was how spiritual realization would occur and to whom.

I was unconsciously adhering to the erroneous assumption that “I” as a person would awaken to my divine nature. To the surface mind, the dualistic perspective of humanity seems perfectly logical. But the truth is wholistic, nondual, non-progressive, not subject to increase or decrease, and most importantly, ever-present. In other words, spiritual realization does not occur in time. The person that I believed myself to be, as a separate distinct conceptual human being, could not, and never will wake up! That sense of being an individual functioning in an external world will always lead to persistent hunger and thirst, suffering from its own self-imposed exile from the truth of being by a false identity. You see, despite my learned spiritual understanding, it was not embodied, that is, truth was known about, but not known. Recognizing this fundamental error is admittedly embarrassing because I had read this in countless sources of mystical spirituality and professed this in countless sermons and articles. Like the nose on my face, which is clearly prominent, I had somehow overlooked its obvious presence.

It was only when I began practicing non-dual spirituality in earnest, using the pointers that kept my attention rigorously focused on my true being and awareness itself did the fruits of these many years of seeking finally bear fruit. I have shared this process in past articles, and I have linked a few of them below. In the next edition, I will go into more detail about how to approach this recognition in simple ways that can bring one home to know the truth, the truth that we have had all along.

Namaste,

Rev. Larry