Dialogue ~ 30

In dialogue 29, I asked “In a world of complexity of appearances, how do we move into unity within ourselves, our own being, such that we are fully integrated within it? I am not referring to an act of illuminating our ‘shadow’ or of atoning for that which we have judged but of transforming our field of vision, such that we are capable of experiencing our truth directly from the knowledge of, that is to say an intimacy of being one with the world?”

Is it possible that there is a prevailing modality of the world which forms the basis of our relationship with one another? Has this modality been hindering our willingness to examine what we assume to be true of the world and to move beyond its limiting frame of vision? How are we able to inquire into what we believe to be true of the world? Do we construct and contrast knowledge with what others have said to be true, given as they will have done the same thing for themselves? Or is knowledge an epiphany of some sort and is knowledge the same as truth?

How does language itself contribute towards any given modality of being in the world? Through an array of my words, am I inviting you the reader (and this includes me as the writer) towards an understanding of whatever it is that I am intending to communicate, such that the potential for meaning is located in the midst of this exchange? Am I suggesting that meaning is communal and not a solitary act? Does this imply that knowledge should contain the willingness for inquiry? And yet, how often do we relinquish our responsibility for inquiry and place our trust in the assurances of others?

It is interesting that science can replicate an action in a controlled environment and conclude from the probability of a similarity of result that ‘such and such must be true’. If I am conducting an experiment on the division of cells or the formation of mass or for that matter, any degenerative or generative action, it is clear that I am unable to derive knowledge directly from any ‘happening’ but from the perspective of being an observer. According to the methodology of science, whatever meaning that I choose to give to the happening is subjective. It appears that science will always tell me that something is true unless I am able to disprove it and yet this is always in the context in which an experiment had been done.

In our current era, it appears as if that which is generally agreed upon as being knowledge is both subjective and objective (according to the laws of probabilities), but how does this contrast with how earlier civilisations and philosophers might have interpreted the world?

The Babylonians and Egyptians had been highly skilled in astronomy, mathematics and geometry and incorporated their observations of the world into religious practices.  The Greeks had also believed that the gods had created the world and were responsible for events but by about 700 BC, they began to depart from a mythical view of the world and to seek other explanations for natural phenomena.

Thales of Miletus had been an engineer by trade and he put forward an idea that natural phenomena could be viewed as a series of processes which were governed by natural laws (that were not understood). Whereas the supernatural or ‘will of the gods’ might previously have accounted for particular events, the suggestion that natural laws existed and that could be brought into the realms of knowledge of man was also a step towards believing that an individual could govern their own destiny.

The meaning of phenomena and events in the world was shifting; whereas previously an event might have generated a thought of ‘what is this event communicating to me’, a new way of observing phenomena and of interacting with it might have generated questions along the lines of ‘what is its origin, what is the mechanism of flow (and of force) and the purpose of diversity in the world?’ That is to say, why do things appear to change when what is fundamentally in the world is constant and eternal?

Aristotle referred to the Ionian school of thinkers (who were trying to explain the nature of matter) as ‘physiologoi’ (φυσιολόγοι), meaning ‘those who discoursed on nature’. They are also referred to as physicalists (and I am given to understand that physicalism is the thesis that everything is physical, that there is ‘nothing over and above’ the physical or that everything supervenes on the physical. Physicalism is a form of ontological monism, a ‘one substance’ view of the nature of reality and is closely related to materialism).

In contemplating the term ‘physiologoi’, I found that the lower case symbol of ‘phi’ or ‘φ’ represents amongst many other things that of: 1. Magnetic flux in physics 2. Wave functions in quantum mechanics 3. The golden ratio in mathematics, art and literature.

Further, a definition of ‘logoi’ is: 1. (in Greek philosophy) the rational principle that governs and develops the universe. 2. (in Christian theology) the divine word or reason incarnate in Jesus Christ.

It is just a consideration, but allowing for the pre-existing expertise of mathematics and geometry which would have been available to them, it is possible that the Ionian philosophers were exploring the fundaments of the cosmos in an extremely comprehensive way. I will look into the work of Pythagoras in a later writing.

Empedocles (c. 450 BC) recognised the elements of earth, air, fire and water as being the fundamental elements of the world and said that all things were a medley of these elements. He added two forces to the mix: ‘love’ which was binding the elements and ‘strife’ as separating them. It is interesting to consider Empedocles’ proposition of forces not only in relation to the intentions and consequences of actions of the monotheistic religions but also of other streams of thought which humanity has concluded as being worthy of aspiring towards.

I will refer back to what Xenophanes had said of knowledge (B34): “… and of course the clear and certain truth no man has seen nor will there be anyone who knows about the gods and what I say about all things. For even if, in the best case, one happened to speak just of what has been brought to pass, still he himself would not know. But opinion is allotted to all.”

The differential between knowing and seeing is important. What does Xenophanes mean by ‘clear and certain’? Is he referring to the direct experience of being able to see something for oneself in an unbiased, untarnished manner, such that one ‘knows’ (as in ‘gnosis’)? Is this the same as communion or a glimpse into the numinous or undifferentiated being? He doesn’t appear to be dismissing it out of the realms of all possibility, simply suggesting that when one attempts to speak of one’s experience is when the obstacles of language or interpretation arise.

Can knowing (through the ‘logoi’ and the capacity of the intellect) infuse through an individual such that they are capable of perceiving unity in the midst of a world which is diverse? I am not thinking of some form of utilitarianism here (which implies freedom of an individual within the realms of consensus) but of a metaphysical framing or worldview which comprehends the one that is in the many and the many that are one. The answer to this question will answer an earlier one of whether it is possible to move beyond a paradigm which has been constructed from and relies almost entirely upon force.