Honesty and Dishonesty: Beyond the surface
The concepts of honesty and dishonesty, fidelity and infidelity, often evoke strong reactions from people, shaped by moral, cultural, and societal conditioning. These binaries dominate much of human interaction, creating judgments about what is right and wrong, what is ethical and unethical. However, when we delve deeper into these ideas, we begin to see that these distinctions are part of a broader illusion of duality—a construct that humanity has built over millennia to navigate the complexities of life.
The very act of labeling actions as “honest” or “dishonest,” “faithful” or “unfaithful” stems from a worldview that is bound by dualistic thinking. In such a worldview, life is divided into opposites—good and bad, right and wrong, true and false. Yet, as we explore the nature of consciousness and presence, it becomes clear that these dichotomies are not fixed, but rather fluid, shaped by the limited perceptions of the human mind.
At the heart of this inquiry lies the question: what happens when one operates with complete presence, in a state of being where the mind is free from the constructs of past and future, of moral judgments, and of conditioned responses? In such a state, does the very notion of honesty and dishonesty, fidelity and infidelity, dissolve? Can we transcend the dualities that dominate our understanding of reality? And if so, what does that reveal about the nature of the “real world” we think we live in?
In this exploration, we will dive deep into these questions, dissecting the nature of honesty, dishonesty, fidelity, and infidelity, and ultimately aiming to dissolve the myths and illusions that surround them.
From an early age, we are taught that honesty is a virtue, a moral standard by which we should live. To be honest is to tell the truth, to be transparent, and to act in alignment with what is considered ethical. Dishonesty, on the other hand, is seen as a vice—deceiving, hiding the truth, or acting in ways that betray trust. Society has built intricate structures around these concepts, embedding them in legal systems, educational frameworks, and interpersonal relationships.
However, what we often fail to recognize is that both honesty and dishonesty are constructed within the realm of thought. They are ideas that arise from the human mind, shaped by cultural and historical contexts. What may be considered honest in one culture could be viewed as dishonest in another. For instance, in some cultures, withholding certain information is seen as a way to protect others, while in other societies, it may be seen as deceit. Thus, honesty and dishonesty are not objective truths; they are relative concepts that depend on context, perception, and belief systems. This recognition opens the door to questioning the very foundations of these moral judgments.
Honesty and dishonesty, as we commonly understand them, are rooted in dualistic thinking—the division of the world into opposites. Duality, in this sense, is a mental construct that allows us to navigate the complexities of life. It simplifies the world into categories of right and wrong, true and false, and gives us a sense of control over the moral and ethical landscape we inhabit.
But this division is inherently limiting. It creates conflict, both internally and externally, because it forces us to align with one side of the dichotomy and reject the other. When we view honesty and dishonesty as fixed opposites, we become trapped in a cycle of judgment, always measuring ourselves and others against these standards.
In relationships, fidelity is often equated with loyalty, faithfulness, and commitment. To be faithful is to remain true to one’s partner, to honor the bond of trust that has been established. Infidelity, by contrast, is seen as a betrayal—a breaking of that trust, a violation of the commitment made. These concepts are deeply ingrained in societal norms and expectations, particularly in romantic and marital relationships.
However, like honesty and dishonesty, fidelity and infidelity are also socially constructed. The very notion of what it means to be faithful or unfaithful varies across cultures and historical periods. In some societies, monogamy is seen as the ultimate expression of fidelity, while in others, polygamy or open relationships are accepted norms. The rules that govern fidelity are not universal; they are shaped by cultural, religious, and personal beliefs.
At the heart of fidelity and infidelity lies the idea of ownership—ownership of another person’s body, mind, and emotions. When we commit to a relationship, particularly in the context of marriage or long-term partnership, there is often an implicit expectation that we “own” each other in some way. This ownership manifests in the form of expectations about exclusivity, loyalty, and the boundaries of the relationship.
But this notion of ownership is illusory. No one can truly own another person, and attempting to do so creates a sense of possessiveness that is rooted in fear and insecurity. Fidelity, when seen through the lens of ownership, becomes a way of controlling the other person, of ensuring that they remain within the boundaries we have set for them.
True love is not possessive or conditional. When we love someone, we do not seek to control them or to bind them to our expectations. Instead, we allow them the freedom to be who they are, without judgment or restriction. This kind of love transcends the dualities of fidelity and infidelity because it is not based on ownership or attachment.
Infidelity, when it occurs, is often seen as the ultimate betrayal. It brings up feelings of hurt, anger, and rejection. But from a deeper perspective, infidelity can be understood as a mirror—an opportunity to examine the underlying dynamics of the relationship and the expectations that have been placed on it.
When someone is unfaithful, it is not necessarily a reflection of their character or moral standing. Rather, it can be a reflection of the unmet needs and desires that exist within the relationship. These unmet needs may be emotional, physical, or psychological, and they often stem from a lack of true connection or understanding between partners. Infidelity, in this sense, is not the cause of the problem but a symptom of deeper issues that have been ignored or suppressed. It forces us to confront the illusions we have built around relationships—the illusion of ownership, the illusion of permanence, and the illusion of control.
To operate with 100% presence in the moment is to be fully aware, fully engaged, and fully alive in the here and now. It means to live without the interference of past conditioning or future projections, to see reality as it is, without the filters of judgment, expectation, or attachment. Presence is the state of pure awareness, where the mind is not divided into opposites, and the self is not fragmented by thought. When we are truly present, the concepts of honesty and dishonesty, fidelity and infidelity, dissolve. In the state of presence, there is no division between right and wrong, true and false, because these are constructs of the mind. Presence transcends duality and brings us into direct contact with reality as it is—without the distortions of thought or emotion.
In the state of presence, honesty and dishonesty lose their meaning. Honesty is often defined as telling the truth, but what is truth? Truth, in its most profound sense, is not a fixed concept; it is fluid, dynamic, and constantly changing. When we are present, we do not cling to fixed ideas of truth or falsehood; we simply respond to the reality of the moment. Dishonesty, in this sense, is not about lying or deceiving others. It is about being out of alignment with the present moment—about acting from a place of conditioning, fear, or attachment, rather than from a place of awareness. When we are fully present, there is no need for dishonesty because we are in harmony with the flow of life. We do not need to manipulate or control the situation; we simply respond with clarity and integrity.
The concept of fidelity, too, dissolves when one operates in the present moment with full awareness. Fidelity, in its conventional sense, is often tied to promises, contracts, and the expectation of a continuous future. In relationships, it becomes a pledge to behave in certain ways over time, to stay within defined boundaries, and to remain “true” to another person. But these pledges are built upon mental constructs and future projections—on an imagined continuity that is bound by time and expectation.
When one is fully present, these future projections lose their weight, and fidelity is no longer about promises made for tomorrow but about the authenticity of being in relationship here and now. In presence, fidelity is not something forced or negotiated, but an expression of truth in the moment. One cannot be unfaithful in presence because one is not operating from a divided mind that clings to past commitments or fears future betrayals. Instead, there is simply an unfolding of truth as it is, unconditioned by the past and unconcerned with future outcomes.
Infidelity, often seen as the antithesis of fidelity, also loses its traditional meaning when approached from a place of presence. Infidelity typically arises from dissatisfaction, a feeling that something is lacking in the current relationship or situation. This dissatisfaction propels one to seek fulfillment elsewhere, outside the bounds of the established relationship. But what is at the root of this dissatisfaction? Often, it is the mind’s attachment to desires, projections, and unexamined needs that fuel the urge to look beyond the present relationship. In presence, there is no room for such projections. The mind, when it is fully attuned to the present, does not dwell on what is lacking or seek fulfillment outside of what is unfolding in the here and now. When one is present with a partner or in any relationship, the relationship is no longer bound by the rigid labels of fidelity and infidelity. There is simply a connection, a flow of being, that is not controlled by societal norms or personal insecurities. In this way, presence dissolves the very constructs that give rise to infidelity, not by imposing rules or boundaries, but by making them irrelevant.
Needs – Fulfilment or imaginary?
At its core, ‘need’ represents a perceived lack within our lives. Whether it’s a need for something material like food or shelter, or something psychological such as love or acceptance, every need suggests that something essential is missing. Desire, according to Buddhist philosophy, leads to suffering because it perpetuates a state of lacking and grasping. When needs arise, they disturb our peace by suggesting that our current state is insufficient.
When a need is fulfilled, it confirms its existence as something genuine. For example, the need for nourishment is affirmed as real when eating relieves the pangs of hunger. Here, the need aligns with a fundamental requirement for survival. Conversely, if a need fades away without being fulfilled, one might argue it was never a true need but rather a transient desire. This observation is particularly relevant in the context of emotional or psychological needs, where distinguishing between deep-seated necessities and superficial wants becomes complex.
The paradox lies in the dual nature of needs as both real and illusory. On one hand, certain needs are indisputably real, as their fulfillment directly pertains to survival and well-being. On the other, many needs, when scrutinized, reveal themselves as constructs of the mind, shaped by societal, cultural, and personal expectations and conditioning. Stoic philosophy, for instance, teaches the value of distinguishing between what we can control and what we cannot, urging a detachment from external desires and an acceptance of what is. This detachment is not about suppression of need but rather a profound understanding of the ephemerality of external conditions.
Existentially, needs can be viewed as anchors that give meaning to our lives. Yet, this meaning is often predicated on the continual pursuit of fulfillment, which can lead to an endless cycle of desire and disappointment. Spiritually, transcending needs can be seen as a path to enlightenment, where one achieves a state of contentment and unity with all existence, free from the dualities of lack and fulfillment. Exploring the concept of need across both living and non-living entities broadens our understanding of the fundamental nature of existence. In living beings, needs are typically biologically or psychologically driven, manifesting as impulses towards survival, reproduction, and social bonding. In contrast, the ‘needs’ of non-living entities—such as the need for maintenance or preservation—are attributed by human perspectives, often reflecting our own values or necessities imposed upon objects or systems.
When a need vanishes without fulfillment, it raises profound questions about its existence. Was it a real need, or merely a temporary desire? This question aligns with the philosophical inquiry into the nature of being and non-being. In metaphysical terms, the disappearance of a need without fulfillment suggests that it may have been a contingent, not a necessary state. Contingent needs are dependent on specific conditions and perceptions, which can change over time and context, leading to the dissolution of the perceived need. The journey towards fulfilling a need is often fraught with turmoil and dissatisfaction. This chaos, particularly evident in the human experience, stems from the tension between current states of lack and the anticipated states of fulfillment. Psychologically, this turmoil can be seen in the frustration, anxiety, and even despair that arise in the pursuit of unmet needs. The existential tension here is the human confrontation with limitation and imperfection.
Philosophically, the condition of being ‘in need’ can be seen as a fundamental aspect of the human condition. Existential philosophers have long grappled with the notion of lack as a core component of existence. Jean-Paul Sartre, for instance, discussed how human consciousness is defined by a lack—being “for-itself” implies a constant striving towards an elusive “in-itself,” a state of being that remains perpetually out of reach, creating a perpetual state of desire and resultant existential void.
From another perspective, the chaos and discomfort experienced in the face of unmet needs can also be transformative. This aligns with the concept of “creative destruction” in economic theory, where old structures must be destroyed to make way for new, potentially more adaptive arrangements. Psychologically, enduring the discomfort of unfulfilled needs can lead to personal growth, resilience, and a deeper understanding of oneself and one’s true priorities. In spiritual traditions, particularly those influenced by non-dualistic philosophies, the ultimate aim is often described as transcending need altogether. This transcendence is not about achieving a state where no physical or psychological needs exist, but rather reaching a state of consciousness where one is no longer enslaved by those needs. This state is characterized by a profound inner peace and contentment, where external conditions no longer dictate one’s inner state. Thus, the existence of need, its fulfillment, or its vanishing without impact each carry significant implications. These phenomena invite us to reflect on the ephemeral and often illusory nature of needs. They challenge us to consider whether true fulfillment comes from satisfying every need or from cultivating a state of being that is free from the tyranny of need.
As we delve further into the dynamics of need and its fulfillment, it becomes crucial to distinguish between short-term satisfaction and long-term fulfillment. Immediate resolution of needs often brings temporary relief, but the underlying drivers—whether emotional, psychological, or spiritual—may still persist. This introduces a cyclical pattern where fulfilled needs may resurface or evolve into new desires, suggesting that the root of need is not merely in the external lack but in a deeper, internal void. Existentially, the concept of need pushes individuals to confront their freedom and responsibility. Jean-Paul Sartre’s idea of existential freedom suggests that while we are free to pursue our needs, we are also responsible for the choices we make in response to these needs. This freedom is double-edged; it empowers but also burdens us with the responsibility of discernment and decision-making, highlighting the existential challenge of navigating needs without clear, predefined paths. The pursuit of fulfilling all needs can create an illusion that perpetual satisfaction is attainable. This illusion can lead to constant striving and dissatisfaction, as each fulfilled need often gives rise to new desires. Philosophically, this reflects the Buddhist teaching on the nature of desire and suffering. Recognizing this cycle can lead to a profound existential and spiritual inquiry: Is there an end to need, or is the human condition inherently defined by endless desire?
In spiritual traditions, particularly those advocating non-attachment and detachment, the ultimate freedom is described as a state of needlessness. This does not imply a lack of engagement with the world but rather an engagement that is free from the compulsion of needs. Achieving such a state is often described as enlightenment, where one exists in complete harmony with the universe, undisturbed by individual desires and aversions. One of the central paradoxes in the realm of need is the tension between dependence and independence. On one hand, fulfilling basic needs often requires interdependence—relying on others and the environment, which seemingly contradicts the ideal of self-sufficiency. On the other hand, the more we fulfill certain needs, the more autonomous we may become, capable of pursuing higher, more abstract needs such as self-actualization. Yet, this pursuit can lead back to new dependencies, such as the need for validation or intellectual stimulation, illustrating a cyclical return to interdependence.
Needs emerge from a sense of lack or emptiness, driving us to seek fulfillment to feel complete. Paradoxically, this quest for completion through fulfilling needs can deepen the sense of emptiness, as each fulfillment often reveals new voids. This reflects the Buddhist notion that desire (and its fulfillment) inherently leads to suffering due to the impermanent nature of all conditioned phenomena. Thus, the very act of seeking wholeness through external fulfillment paradoxically perpetuates emptiness. Another paradox lies in the relationship between desire and liberation. In many spiritual traditions, liberation is attained through the cessation of desire. However, the initial movement towards liberation itself arises from a desire—the desire to be free from suffering. This presents a fundamental paradox: one must harness desire to ultimately transcend all desires. The path to liberation, therefore, involves navigating through desires in a way that gradually diminishes their power over one’s state of being. The pursuit of self-improvement is often driven by the recognition of one’s needs and deficiencies. This pursuit, intended to overcome limitations, paradoxically reaffirms those limitations by constantly highlighting areas of lack. The more one engages in self-improvement, the more one might become aware of further imperfections, potentially leading to a never-ending cycle of self-enhancement and the persistent sense of being ‘not enough.’
The ultimate understanding is that distinctions between need and fulfillment are illusory—both are manifestations of the same underlying reality, perceived differently due to mental conditioning and dualistic thinking. Here, the paradox is that need and its resolution are not truly separate; they are two sides of the same coin. Recognizing this non-duality can lead to a profound shift in how one experiences need and fulfillment, seeing them not as opposing forces but as interconnected aspects of life’s unfolding.
Illuminating the “Unseen” & “Unspoken”
Thought, in its essence, is an intellectual construct, a tool for navigating the practical aspects of life. It’s essential for planning, learning, and organizing. However, its fundamental limitation lies in its basis in the past – thoughts are a response to accumulated memories, knowledge, and experiences. This retrospective nature means thought is inherently unable to apprehend the present moment in its totality. It’s always a step removed from the direct experience, interpreting rather than experiencing. Thought can be understood as a mental process wherein ideas, images, and cognitive symbols are conjured and manipulated. It is a fundamental aspect of human consciousness leading to the formation of ideas, judgments, memories, and plans.
Biologically, thoughts arise from the neural activity in the brain. Psychologically, they are influenced by our experiences, emotions, culture, and subconscious mind. Philosophically, some argue that thoughts are more than mere brain activity; they might represent an interaction with a broader consciousness or a deeper, more intrinsic aspect of the self. The exploration of the psyche in it’s entirety beyond thoughts involves looking into the depths of consciousness, beyond the surface-level chatter of the mind. It’s an exploration of what remains when thoughts are quieted – the essence of being, the fundamental nature of consciousness.
Thought is inherently limited. It is born from our accumulated knowledge, memories, experiences, and conditioning. Each thought is a fragment, a part of the whole, filtered through our personal lens. The limitation of thought lies in its inability to capture the totality of what is, as it’s always colored by past conditioning and subjective interpretations.
Let’s understand if there’s any thinking without thought ? Exploring this notion of thinking without thought ventures into a paradoxical realm. Traditionally, thinking is seen as the process of using thoughts. However, there are some different perspectives revolving around the same. They speak of a state of ‘pure observation’ or ‘direct perception,’ where one is aware and attentive but not caught in the web of conceptual thinking. This is not thinking in the traditional sense but a state of heightened awareness where one perceives things as they are, unfiltered by thoughts. The inadequacy of language in capturing this entirety of an experience is a well-acknowledged philosophical challenge. Words are symbols, abstractions that represent reality but are not reality themselves. They can point towards the truth but cannot fully encapsulate it. This disconnect between the symbol and the actuality is why descriptions often fall short of conveying the full essence of an experience. Perceiving something without the interference of subjective knowledge or past experiences is a central aim in our exploration. It is akin to seeing with a ‘beginner’s mind’ in Zen Buddhism or practicing ‘choiceless awareness’. In such states, perception is not clouded by previous conditioning; one sees the ‘what is’ without the overlay of the ‘what has been’ or ‘what could be.’ Direct perception/reception or choiceless awareness is a key concept in understanding a state beyond the limitations of thought. This is a state of consciousness where one observes without the duality of the observer and the observed. In this state, the mind does not interpret, compare, or evaluate, but simply perceives what is. This kind of perception is devoid of the biases, filters, and conditioning that usually cloud our understanding.
Consciousness, in its purest form, is often described as a vast, boundless field of awareness that transcends the limitations of thought. In various spiritual traditions, this consciousness is seen as the fundamental essence of our being, uncolored by personal identity, cultural conditioning, or linguistic constructs. It’s an experiential state where the sense of separation between the self and the external world diminishes, leading to a profound sense of unity or oneness. Non-dual awareness refers to a state of consciousness where the artificial distinctions between subject and object, observer and observed, dissolve. In this state, one experiences reality as an undivided whole, where the dichotomies and dualities created by thought no longer hold sway. This non-dual awareness is often described as a direct experience of the true nature of reality, unmediated by the conceptual mind and ego. The ego is often seen as a construct of the mind, a collection of self-identifications, memories, and personality traits that create the illusion of a separate, distinct self. Transcending thought involves recognizing the ego as an illusion, a limited perspective that confines our understanding of ourselves and the universe.
Exploring this further, let’s delve deeper into the aspects where we try to understand if there can be observation without conditioning/ego/judgements/thoughts.
Interpreting an observation that is not shaped or driven by thought presents a unique challenge. By its very nature, this type of observation defies conventional interpretation, as interpretation itself is a function of thought. Therefore, experiences rooted in direct perception/reception or choiceless awareness are often described as ineffable or transcendental. They are understood not through the analytical mind but through a profound sense of knowing or/of being. Thought is inherently a movement of memory, knowledge, and experience. It is a dynamic process, always referencing the past, comparing, and categorizing based on previous data stored in the brain which is actually static. Due to its reliance on past information, thought is inherently limited in apprehending the new, the unknown, or the present moment in its fullness. It is always a step behind, processing and interpreting, rather than directly experiencing. It’s a process that, by its very nature, is retrospective, constantly referring to the past to make sense of the present. This reference to the past is both the strength and limitation of thought. It allows us to learn, plan, and reason, but simultaneously confines us within the boundaries of our previous experiences and conditioning. Every thought, therefore, is a reflection of this accumulated knowledge, a product of our individual histories and the collective history of our species. As we deepen our exploration, we begin to see the interplay between thought and awareness more clearly. We start to understand that thoughts, in themselves, are not the problem. The challenge lies in our identification with them, in our habitual pattern of mistaking the content of our thoughts for the totality of our being. This identification is what keeps us entangled in the web of ego and illusion, preventing us from experiencing the fullness of our true nature. The challenge and the beauty of experiencing the present moment beyond the framework of thought lies in stepping out of the known – the accumulated knowledge, memory, and experience – and entering the realm of direct, immediate experience.
When we delve into the concept of observation beyond thought, we venture into a realm that is often uncharted by our regular conscious experience. This form of observation is not an act of the thinking mind but a state of pure awareness. It is a form of perception that is immediate and direct, unmediated by the processes of cognition, analysis, or linguistic formulation. In this state, the mind is silent yet acutely aware, observing without the interference of preconceived notions, judgments, or interpretations. This is a form of observation where the observer is fully present, yet there is no active process of ‘observing’ in the conventional sense. Interpreting this thought-free observation poses a significant challenge because interpretation itself is a function of thought. To understand or articulate these experiences, we invariably revert to the tools of thought – language, symbols, and concepts. However, these tools are inadequate to fully capture the essence of such experiences. They are like trying to describe the taste of water using only colors; the medium is fundamentally incapable of conveying the actual experience. Hence, experiences rooted in direct perception or choiceless awareness are often described as ineffable or transcendent. They are understood not intellectually but experientially, as a profound sense of knowing or being that transcends the conventional modes of understanding. The movement of thought, being a continuum of memory and knowledge, inherently limits our perception of the present moment. It’s always a step behind, interpreting and processing rather than directly experiencing. This lag, this reliance on the past, is what prevents thought from apprehending the new, the unknown, or the present moment in its full immediacy. To step beyond this limitation requires a different quality of attention – an attention that is not bound by the linear, sequential process of thinking but is open, expansive, and fully present. This disengagement from the thought process allows for moments of clarity and direct perception, where one can experience reality as it is, not as it is interpreted or remembered. In this context, the role of the observer becomes crucial. In deep observation, the distinction between the observer and the observed begins to blur. This blurring is a realization that the separation between the self and the world is largely a construct of thought. When this artificial barrier falls away, what remains is a state of being where the observer is not separate from the observed but is an integral part of a unified field of awareness. This realization can lead to a profound shift in consciousness, a shift from the duality of subject and object to a state of non-dual awareness. To truly understand and integrate this understanding into our lives we must confront the structures of thought that define our perception of reality.
The present moment, ever fleeting and elusive, exists beyond the grasp of our thoughts. Our attempts to understand the present through thought inevitably involve a retrospective analysis, a looking back to what we already know, to what we have already experienced. This backward glance prevents us from experiencing the present moment in its true essence. It’s like trying to capture the beauty of a sunset by looking only at its reflection in a mirror; the experience is always one step removed from reality. When we speak of observation beyond thought, we are referring to a state of pure awareness, an unfiltered engagement with the present moment. This is a form of observation that transcends the cognitive processes of the mind. It is not about thinking more clearly or more deeply; it is about not thinking at all. In this state, the mind is still, yet acutely aware. There are no judgments, no comparisons, no interpretations. There is only the experience of the present moment in its unadulterated form. This state of observation is not easily attainable, nor is it a permanent state of being. It is a fleeting glimpse into a reality that exists beyond the confines of our conditioned mind. It requires a quieting of the mental chatter, a suspension of the habitual thought processes that dominate our waking life. This quieting is not an act of suppression but an act of surrender, a letting go of the need to analyze, categorize, and understand. In this space of thought-free observation, we encounter the world in a way that is fundamentally different from our usual mode of experience. It is a mode of experience that is direct and immediate, unmediated by the filters of our past experiences and conditioning. In this space, we find a connection to the world that is more intimate and more profound than anything thought can provide. It is a connection that speaks to the interconnectedness of all things, to the fundamental unity of existence.
The challenge, however, lies in integrating this understanding into our daily lives. How do we maintain this connection to the present moment in a world that is constantly pulling us back into the realm of thought? The answer lies not in rejecting thought but in understanding its place and its limitations. It involves cultivating a balance between using thought as a tool for practical living and allowing ourselves to experience moments of thought-free awareness. This balance is not easily achieved. It requires practice, patience, and a willingness to explore the depths of our own consciousness. It involves cultivating mindfulness in our daily activities, being fully present in each moment, whether we are eating, walking, talking, or simply sitting. It involves meditation, not just as a formal practice but as a way of being, a constant attunement to the present moment. As we deepen our practice, we begin to notice subtle shifts in our perception. We start to see the world with a freshness and clarity that was previously obscured by the veil of our thoughts. We begin to experience moments of profound peace and connectedness, moments where the boundaries between self and other dissolve, and we are left with a sense of being part of a larger whole. We may find that our moments of thought-free awareness become more frequent and more profound. We may begin to experience flashes of insight and understanding that arise not from the thinking mind but from a deeper, more intuitive level of consciousness. These moments have the potential to be deeply transformative, offering a glimpse into a way of being that is free from the constraints of conditioned thought. This sense of interconnectedness is not merely a philosophical abstraction but a lived experience. It manifests in a deep sense of empathy and compassion, a genuine understanding of the interconnected nature of all life. In this understanding, the well-being of others becomes inseparable from our own. The artificial distinctions that thought creates between ‘us’ and ‘them’ lose their significance, and we begin to act from a place of intrinsic connection and unity.
The journey towards this understanding and experience is both personal and universal. It is personal in the sense that it requires a deep exploration of one’s own mind and consciousness. It involves a process of unlearning, of letting go of the preconceived notions and beliefs that cloud our perception of reality. At the same time, it is a universal journey, one that has been embarked upon by seekers across different cultures and throughout history. It is a journey towards a truth that transcends the particularities of individual perspectives and cultural conditioning. Moreover, this journey brings us into a closer relationship with the mystery of existence. It opens us to the wonder and awe of life, allowing us to experience the world with a freshness and immediacy that is often lost in adulthood. In this space, we find beauty in the mundane, joy in the simple act of being, and a sense of peace that transcends the ups and downs of daily life. Yet, this journey is not about permanently residing in a state beyond thought. Such an expectation would be unrealistic and contrary to the very nature of human existence. Rather, it is about cultivating the ability to move fluidly between different states of consciousness. It is about learning to use thought when it is useful and necessary, while also being able to step beyond it to experience a more direct and unmediated connection with life.
As we continue to explore this deeper dimension of ourselves, we encounter a paradox. On one hand, there is a sense of individuality, the unique perspective and experiences that each of us brings to the world. On the other hand, there is a sense of universality, a recognition that at the core, we are all expressions of the same fundamental consciousness. This duality of individuality and universality is one of the great mysteries of human existence, a mystery that challenges the linear and rational mind but is intimately known to the heart. In this space beyond thought, we also begin to experience time differently. The usual linear progression of past, present, and future gives way to a more fluid and expansive experience of time. Moments of deep presence and awareness can feel timeless, as if we are touching an eternal now that underlies the changing scenes of life. This experience of timelessness is not an escape from the world but a deeper engagement with it, a recognition that each moment is a doorway to the infinite. This deeper exploration also challenges our conventional understanding of not only time but space as well. In the realm of pure awareness, the linear progression of time gives way to a more fluid and expansive experience. We begin to see time not as a series of discrete moments but as a continuous flow, a flow of creation and dissolution in which we are intimately involved. Similarly, our experience of space transforms from a fixed, three-dimensional framework to a more dynamic and interconnected field. We start to perceive space not as something that separates but as something that unites, a medium through which the dance of existence unfolds.
In this deeper realm, we encounter the concept of the Absolute, a term used in various philosophical and spiritual traditions to denote the ultimate, indivisible reality. The Absolute is often described as the source and substance of all that exists, transcending all categories of thought, including being and non-being. This is not an entity or a being in the traditional sense, but the very ground of being itself. In the presence of the Absolute, the distinctions that dominate our usual experience of reality – between subject and object, self and other, observer and observed – dissolve into a state of non-dual awareness. In this state, the individual consciousness recognizes its unity with the Absolute, realizing that the separation it perceives in the ordinary state of consciousness is an illusion. The dualities that govern our ordinary perception – light and dark, good and evil, pleasure and pain – are seen as expressions of a deeper unity. This perception brings with it a sense of profound peace and equanimity, as one realizes that the essential nature of reality is unchanging and eternal, despite the ever-changing play of phenomena.
Depths of Hurt: An Intriguing Emotion
At its core, hurt is an emotional response to a perceived loss or violation. This loss can be tangible, such as the loss of a loved one, or intangible, like the loss of respect or love. The perception of this loss is crucial; it’s not the objective situation that determines hurt, but how one interprets and internalizes it. The origins of hurt can be traced back to our earliest human experiences. As infants, we are utterly dependent on others for our survival, leading to a deep-rooted need for attachment and acceptance. This need, while essential for survival, also becomes the breeding ground for hurt. When our expectations of support, love, or acknowledgment are unmet, we experience hurt.
Hurt often manifests differently in personal and professional contexts, yet the underlying mechanics are surprisingly similar. In personal relationships, hurt is often more directly linked to emotional bonds and expectations of love, loyalty, and understanding. In professional settings, while the emotional stakes may seem lower, the hurt can still be profound. It often stems from unmet expectations regarding respect, recognition, or the outcome of our efforts. The statement “don’t take it personally” in professional environments is an acknowledgment of this complexity. It attempts to draw a boundary between the personal self and the professional role. Yet, this separation is often not as clear-cut as it seems. Our professional lives are an extension of our personal selves; the values, aspirations, and efforts we put into our work are deeply personal. Thus, when we face criticism, rejection, or failure at work, it can still impact our personal self-esteem and sense of worth.
The hurt one experiences is often a reflection of internal expectations and self-perception. When others do not meet our expectations, or when we fail to meet our own, we experience a sense of loss. This loss is not just about the external situation but also about our internal narrative. We construct stories about who we are and how the world should respond to us. When reality diverges from these stories, we feel hurt. Understanding hurt requires dissecting the dichotomy between external causes and internal reactions. Is hurt caused by others, or is it self-inflicted? The answer is nuanced. Others can act as triggers, but the actual experience of hurt is an internal process. It is our interpretation of events, filtered through our personal beliefs and past experiences, that generates hurt. human experience. We are beings of desire and expectation, living in a world that is constantly changing and often unpredictable. This disconnect between our desires and reality is a fertile ground for hurt. However, this inevitability doesn’t imply helplessness. It requires a shift from external validation to internal self-acceptance, and from rigid expectations to flexible aspirations. This journey towards resilience is not about becoming indifferent or uncaring, but about cultivating a grounded sense of self that can navigate the ups and downs of life with equanimity.
Developmental psychology, for instance, sheds light on how early experiences shape our vulnerability to hurt. Childhood, where the foundation of our self-esteem and worldviews are formed, significantly influences how we perceive and react to potential hurts in later life. Attachment suggests that our early bonding experiences with caregivers form templates for future relationships. Secure attachments lead to resilience, while insecure attachments can heighten our sensitivity to rejection and loss, predisposing us to deeper hurt.
Hurt also stems from conflicts of human existence – our search for meaning in an indifferent universe, the realization of our freedoms and limitations, and the ultimate confrontation with our mortality. Our self-perception plays a critical role in this process. If we perceive ourselves as capable and deserving, failing to meet expectations can lead to self-criticism and hurt. Conversely, if we see ourselves as unworthy, we may internalize external negative outcomes as confirmations of this belief, perpetuating cycles of hurt and low self-esteem.
Let us take a simple example where you feel hurt due to a longing for more time and attention from a loved one, even though you recognize they are doing their best. At the heart of your experience lies a paradox: you have an expectation (desiring more time and attention) and simultaneously an understanding (knowing your loved one is doing their best). This dichotomy is not just a matter of conflicting thoughts, but a reflection of the complex nature of human needs and empathy. On one hand, your need for time and attention is genuine – a fundamental aspect of human relationships where such connections and affirmations are essential for emotional bonding and fulfillment. On the other hand, your empathetic understanding of your loved one’s circumstances shows a depth of maturity and compassion. Feeling hurt in this context may arise from an unmet need, which is central to your emotional wellbeing. It’s important to recognize that such needs are not just whimsical desires; they are integral to our sense of connection and belonging. When these needs are not fully met, even in the presence of understanding and rationalization, it creates an emotional void, often experienced as hurt. The consequences of this paradox can be profound. When the fear of burdening outweighs the need for communication, individuals might choose to suppress or hide their feelings. This suppression, while it might seem to maintain harmony in the short term, can lead to several negative outcomes like emotional distance, resentment or misunderstanding. However, this need for emotional expression often collides with an equally powerful force – the fear of overburdening others. This fear stems from a place of empathy and concern, where we become acutely aware of the other person’s potential struggles and challenges. It also arises from our own vulnerabilities; the fear of being seen as needy, weak, or burdensome. Moreover, there’s an underlying concern about the dynamics of the relationship itself – the worry that being too open about our troubles or desires might alter the equilibrium of the relationship, potentially leading to conflict, distance, or discomfort.
At the heart of this paradox is our self-concept, the multifaceted perception we hold of ourselves. This self-concept is not static; it is shaped by our experiences, beliefs, and the feedback we receive from our environment. When we consider communicating our innermost thoughts and feelings, we are also negotiating with our self-concept. Are we someone who burdens others? Are we worthy of being heard and understood? These questions reflect deeper insecurities and beliefs about our worthiness and role in our relationships. The fear of being a burden often stems from a vulnerable place in our self-concept, where we doubt our value in the eyes of others. The complexity of this paradox also lies in the dynamic nature of human relationships. Each relationship we form is a unique intersection of personalities, histories, and expectations. In some relationships, there may be an established pattern of one person being the caregiver and the other the receiver. Attempting to reverse or alter these roles by expressing one’s own vulnerabilities can feel disruptive and fraught with uncertainty. There’s also the aspect of reciprocity – the balance of give and take. In healthy relationships, this balance is fluid and flexible, but the fear of disturbing this balance can make the act of communication seem daunting.
Psychologically, this paradox is intersecting with our deepest fears and vulnerabilities. It often triggers core issues related to self-worth, rejection, and abandonment. When we contemplate sharing our burdens, we are not just sharing a specific problem or feeling; we are also, on a deeper level, testing our acceptability and worthiness in the eyes of others. The fear that our vulnerabilities might make us less worthy of love or respect can be a powerful deterrent to open communication…
Abhishek Fanse 