The Rotating Blade of Meaning (4)

Arthur Young part 4 keswick pic sm

Everything is in motion… Arthur M. Young and Isaac Newton both knew that, but in different ages and different ways. Let’s take a slight detour into some basic ways of looking at one of our fundamentals – the way things move. Our search for Arthur M. Young’s ‘geometry of meaning’ will be enhanced if we can enrich our vocabulary…

Someone in the age of Newton would have said. “This chair upon which I sit is plainly still.”

We can be cleverer than that, now. We all know that our planet is rotating once per day. We may remember that the Earth orbits around its sun once per year. We can even know that the atoms from which the chair is made are themselves in constant motion, albeit within a quantum envelope which renders them solid only when they are observed. The chair is therefore in constant motion, but most of that motion is irrelevant to the scale of human life. The rotation of the Earth is not likely to upset the stability of the chair, but it would be theoretically possible to create a hyper-sensitive chair that was…

Newton did not know of atoms, though the ancient Greeks discussed their necessity. But he knew that there had to be a limit to how many times you could divide something. At that limit you would find the essence of matter. He was very adept at envisioning the practical consequences of pursuing things to their limit…

He knew that things moved differently; not just in how one thing could overtake another, but that – within how they moved – there were differences of what we now call ‘rates’. To grasp this, we need to revisit the idea of a rate. If I have a dripping tap, and it results in one gallon of wasted water, measured over an hour, then I have loss of one gallon of water per hour. That is a rate: it is one relevant number divided by another – something per something else. It is a measure of how something that changes (dynamic) behaves with respect to something else. But our dripping tap may not waste water in a uniform way. Within that hour there may be peaks and troughs in leakage due to aspects or factors not known about in our ‘averaged’ one hour period. This is important to hold in mind when thinking about ‘motion’, too.

In Newton’s time, it was known that the ‘motion’ of things had different aspects. Imagine Isaac Newton as a child playing a game whereby he used a fallen branch of a tree, suitably trimmed with his penknife, to strike stones in his garden to see how far they would fly. He would notice that such stones went from being stationary (at rest) to suddenly going as fast as they might (a maximum) before travelling through the air in an arc and falling to earth again. The motion of the stone would therefore vary from nothing (taking out the Earth’s motion) to maximum speed – as it climbed into the air; to a point where what we now call gravity caused its upward motion to cease and its downward motion to increase, even though it was still moving away in terms of distance from the child Newton in the garden. Thereafter, the grass and earth would tangle its motion and it would come to rest again.

If we measure the whole of this motion, we might simply conclude that the stone was whacked by the strong child wielding a stick and shot down the garden for a length (distance) of, say, 10 metres. If a modern time instrument had been available, we might also discover that it took five seconds to come to rest. This would be accurate as an ‘average’ of what had happened, but would tell us little of the stages of the lifecycle of that overall motion – the interesting bits!

The above motion of the stone (with the help of a modern timer) would yield a measure called the speed or velocity of the stone of as: 10/5 = 2 metres per second: distance divided by time. But that’s not what happened, except seen as a historical thing. What really happened is that when child Newton whacked the stone, it didn’t just have a constant speed; its speed changed from nothing to its maximum value, sufficient to propel it (with the correct angle of strike) into the air in its graceful, if short, arc. Thereafter it slowed and sank through the air while still travelling along the line of its trajectory – the direction in which it was whacked. After this, it landed, bounced and came to rest in a scruffy (but real) way in the tangle of grass and mud.

Aside from my borrowing of his childhood, the real Newton had the genius to realise that the first part of the motion, (from rest to its maximum) was not just speed, but an increase of speed (from nothing to its maximum) that had a different rate. This was caused by the whacking of the stout stick, which transferred its energy to the stone, slowing the stick and thrusting the stone into space. This change of speed or velocity was named acceleration, and it was seen by Newton as something different to velocity, itself. This was a breakthrough in thought and measurement, and marked Newton as a true genius. It would take hundreds of years for Newton’s discoveries to filter into the mindset of the age. Many people today have little idea what he achieved, and yet our age of powered motion is built on his discoveries and the accompanying mathematics of calculus. The “Newtonian” world is the world of classical physics, and this view of how the world operated persisted until the advent of Quantum Theory in the early years of the last century.

Returning to Arthur Young’s discoveries. Young examined the symmetry of what Newton had discovered in the following way.:

Motion begins with distance from a start-point. In our example above the stone travelled ten metres. This is simply a length, which we can call ‘L’. A length ‘L’ applied to a start point (or Origin), without consideration of its motion, simply gives us a new position.

If we want to go further and investigate the real motion of our stone, we consider the time it took to travel the distance. We can call this ‘T’. The length (L) per time (T), written L/T (length divided by time) gives us a rate called speed or velocity – example miles per hour. This ratio of L/T is a basis for all motion and reduces things to their simplest expression.

So, what about acceleration? Remember that this is an increase of velocity not distance. If my car accelerates, it is now travelling at, say, sixty miles per hour rather than fifty. The acceleration has been ten miles per hour, per hour. In other words the rate of change of the velocity.

Summarising this:

Position = L

Velocity (speed) = is the rate of change of position or distance = L/T

Acceleration is the rate of change of velocity, which is L divided by T times T. This new expression, T times T is written T squared, T with a little ‘2’ to the right of it like this: T²

Arthur Young was pursuing the fit of the science of motion to the Fourfold model of meaning we discussed in the first three of these blogs. He needed a fourth term to follow the sequence:

Length (L),

Rate of change of Length, (L/T or velocity)

Rate of change of rate of change of Length, (L/T² or acceleration)

The missing term (L/T³) would be the next in the series and would complete the integration of the human world of motion with Young’s fourfold map of universal meaning…

But there was no recognition of a fourth term (L/T³) of Length and Time in physics… Yet Arthur M. Young, creator of the modern helicopter, knew there was a commonly understood concept that matched this – he had used it to make his helicopters safe…

To be continued…

{Note to the reader: These posts are not about maths or physics; they are about a unique perspective on universal meaning created by Arthur M. Young. If you can grasp the concepts in this blog, your understanding of what follows will be deeper.}

Previous posts in this series:

Part One,   Part Two,   Part Three,

©️Stephen Tanham

Stephen Tanham is a director of the Silent Eye School of Consciousness, a not-for-profit organisation that helps people find a personal path to a deeper place within their internal and external lives.

The Silent Eye provides home-based, practical courses which are low-cost and personally supervised. The course materials and corresponding supervision are provided month by month without further commitment.

Steve’s personal blog, Sun in Gemini, is at stevetanham.wordpress.com.

You’ll find friends, poetry, literature and photography there…and some great guest posts on related topics.

 

Being present

It was weird. I had set up the blog for while I was away with every post I would usually publish. During my absence, I still managed to visit the blogs I would usually read and answered all the comments. In fact, there was absolutely nothing to show I was not at home and at my desk. Even so, the number of page views halved. That happens every so often for no apparent reason and it is not worth even thinking about. This time, though, the stats had been that way for exactly the duration of my absence. I can understand the change when it is obvious that I am away, when posts and responses might be erratic, but on this occasion, there was nothing at all to even hint that I might not be at home.

“So, in effect,” said my friend as I pondered the enigma, “the only thing that is different is your presence.” He was right and that was an interesting idea. There was no observable alteration in my usual routine, but somehow, my lack of presence was communicating itself.

I suppose it is the same sort of thing as when you are speaking to someone who makes all the right noises at the right moments, but who is not really listening. They may be genuinely preoccupied with something else, or simply not interested, but what they are not is present… and you can feel it.

That you can feel it is easy enough to explain in terms of those infinitesimal changes in tone and body language that we learn to read from the earliest age. But you can generally feel it just as clearly even without the visual and auditory cues. Silence and stillness can communicate presence just as powerfully as they can show disinterest… so I got to thinking about the whole idea of being present.

 

We talk a lot about ‘living in the present’…as if we could ever live anywhere else. We might focus on the past or future, but we can only be in the present. Are we always present though? The answer, for most of us, is ‘probably not’. We spend a lot of our time living on autopilot… a useful knack for routine actions, but not the most effective way to drink the essence of every moment. Our attention, instead of being open wide, is either tight-beamed onto one focus or so diffuse that we take in no more than a general impression. Either way, we can miss not only the details but the heart of the moment too.

Many of us are not even present to our own professed beliefs. We say the words, without paying them a great deal of attention, but fail to put into practice what we truly believe we believe. Most of us are horrified by examples of injustice, prejudice and cruelty… and most of us will be guilty of them at some point in our lives. Teachings of love and kindness are ignored in the pursuit of success, ambition can overrule conscience and ego blinds us to our own reflection.

One of the things we do in the Silent Eye course is to share techniques to combat this lack of presence, and even the simplest exercises can dramatically increase our sense of ‘being here’ and our awareness of the world around and within us. It is surprising how small the changes need to be to open ourselves to being aware of our own presence in the moment. I wonder if it was through some trace of far memory or prescience that we learned to call a ‘present’ a ‘gift’…

For there is another kind of Presence too, that is only felt as we learn to be present. Call it what you will, define it as you must… it is heard in that still, small voice within, that echoes across eons and touches heart, mind and soul, opening the doors of perception to a wider experience of life.

The Rotating Blade of Meaning (3)

arthur young fence four sm

 

For this series of posts to make sense – and be spiritually useful in our lives – it must challenge the way we see and therefore ascribe meaning to situations. That challenge must also apply to what we are, as well, since how we used to see, in innocence and wonder, lies, now, below the surface of our active adult consciousness, yet comprises its foundations. Everything we perceive has a human process of perception to it, shared by us all, but differently configured within our individual psychologies. This happens so fast and so automatically that we are not aware of it, but the child is still within us.

There were four of us in the small conference room, high in the executive suite of one of the corporate buildings belonging to the giant telecommunications (telco) company. We were a small but important supplier of complex management software to the giant company.

And we’d had enough…

The four people around the table were present to discuss the legal case that was brought by ourselves and due to enter its court stages in a few days’ time. We were not bluffing. We never had been. As the principle of the business, I was there to demonstrate this stance; and that we were not being intimidated by their size. My opposite number was a senior sector head and a very decent man. The legal crisis had been passed to him to resolve. As always, it was sad that the proceedings had taken so long to get to the attention of a reasonable person, but that’s often how it goes. We knew we were burning our bridges and we knew that we would never work with that Telco, again. It was, potentially, as confrontational as it gets…

The two people with us were lawyers. One of our own and the other acting for the Telco. Our lawyer sat to my right around the small table. The Telco lawyer was at the side of the corporate exec. Together, we formed a cross, just like in our previous post.

basic cross map for arthur young

If we grow up in a commercial world, we come to expect that our ‘betters’ will sit across that desk or table when they are ‘dealing’ with us. The face to face, 180 degrees position is one we learn very early in our lives. We do it because it is only face to face that we get the full range of signals that tell us what we need to survive, to communicate and to love… It has always been said that love is close to its opposite…

The lawyers were there to advise, they were not able to affect the primary axis between me and the Telco manager, but they could suggest mediation.

young compass diag

If we consider another, and familiar example of a ‘four’ diagram, we can immediately relate to another aspect of this fourness. In the above diagram, we recognise the compass directions from typical map, or even – these days – a smart phone. We know from our reading of maps that we can move along the north-south axis without changing where we are in the East-West direction. The one does not affect the other, yet has great potential to mediate. If it is late and we are hiking to our safe destination, the other axis will play a crucial role.

solomon

One of the finest examples – given by Arthur Young, himself, is that of the story of the wise King Solomon mediating between the two wives over the ownership of a baby. We all know the story of how the king asked whose baby it was; and both women replied it was theirs. This is represented by the vertical axis of ‘Possession’ – they were each pulling to get the child. One of them was lying but Solomon could not know which without invoking the other axis, which, in this case, was Love. So, he did so, and deliberately suggested that he cut the infant in two, so that each wife could have half. The real mother was horrified at the proposed loss of life of her son and offered to let the other woman have the child rather than see it killed. The movement along the other axis, Love, resolved the situation, and the cleverness of the solution has come down to us through legend.

Or did the story always contain a pointer to the architecture of real meaning?

Arthur Young’s passion was to unite the worlds of science and mysticism. In this research, he was beginning to see way to do it. In the next part, we will consider how he invoked the different aspects of space and time to assist him.

Part One,

Part Two 

To be continued…

©️Stephen Tanham


Stephen Tanham is a director of the Silent Eye School of Consciousness, a not-for-profit organisation that helps people find a personal path to a deeper place within their internal and external lives.

The Silent Eye provides home-based, practical courses which are low-cost and personally supervised. The course materials and corresponding supervision are provided month by month without further commitment.

Steve’s personal blog, Sun in Gemini, is at stevetanham.wordpress.com.

You’ll find friends, poetry, literature and photography there…and some great guest posts on related topics.

The Rotating Blade of Meaning (2)

 

steve laptop green bag

In Part One, we looked at how Arthur M. Young, a brilliant engineer and inventor, was fascinated by the ‘act of knowing’, and determined that there were four stages to this central part of our consciousness. This can be illustrated by the following search for what might be termed a ‘geometry of meaning’ in the act of seeing something:

  1. There is a rectangular-shaped object across the room on the wooden floor. That means it belongs to the family (set) of things that share rectangular shapes, even if they turn out to be three-dimensional. This is an objective observation – it can be scientifically proven. Young termed it ‘objective general’ – many things are rectangular…
  2.  The surface of it is not a plain texture. It appears to be a heavy canvas material. Again this can be proved, but this facet of the object is specific. Only one of these actually exists – in this form. Other examples will be slightly different. My powers of knowing allow for this. They scan, rapidly, from the general to the specific. So far, I have a rectangular object made of heavy canvas. It’s an objective, specific thing; or, in Young’s accurate terminology, an objective, particular thing.
  3. Now, our perception of knowing takes a leap across the observer-observed divide. In reality, our act of partial knowing (so far) has really been observer-based, but the qualities of the observed object are sufficiently studied to allow us to attribute these objective qualities to it. But now we move into a different state of perception: one in which the observer projects qualities of their own onto the object. The object is a faded shade of green. The experience of ‘green’ is entirely subjective, that is, it is projected onto the object by me. Whatever objective qualities it has, they do not include my experience of faded green. This aspect of my object is therefore subjective and particular. Young called this type of subjective ‘projective’.
  4. Finally, humans like their objects to have a purpose. I can combine the knowledge I now have of this object and know it to be my laptop shoulder bag. In doing this, I have completed the fourfold cycle of knowing this object, whether seeing it for the first time or when I have been trying to locate it.

The table from the last post is included for clarity. These concepts need to be understood before we can move onto the revelations of what Arthur M. Young discovered next.

screenshot 2019-01-23 at 17.42.46

The above fourfold process is completely inclusive for any act of human knowing. As was said last time, science is only concerned with the first aspect: the objective general, the other three aspects it leaves to the philosophers… But the whole is what happens.

Arthur M. Young was fond of diagrams. In his work, he tried to explain using diagrams, and even actual examples of objects, such as pendulums, whenever he could. He wondered whether the above fourfold ‘map of knowing’ could be more usefully represented as a diagram… and the idea of a simple cross sprang to mind.

basic cross map for arthur young

The value of such a diagram would be to show more information than was available from the table. For example, it might show what relationship each of the four aspects had to each other – opposite on the cross-diagram could mean that they were opposite in nature…

We have assigned the attributes of general vs specific and projective (subjective) vs objective. Each aspect of our analysis has a unique combination of two of these – and they are all different permutations. We can see, for example, that the formal description of the object (objective, general) is the opposite of the function of the object (projective, particular). In like fashion, the Sense Data are the opposite of the Projected Values. Putting these into the cross diagram begins to show us the hidden relationships in our perception and knowing.

basic cross map for arthur young2

Because the diagram is logically true, we can deduce certain results from it. The first is that the above opposites are true; the second is that those values that are not opposite have a different relationship with each other. Since we are searching, ultimately, for a geometry of meaning, the angles are important to what follows: 180 degrees conveys opposition, whereas 90 degrees means that the aspects do not affect each other.

The deeper implications of this will be discussed in the next post.

Other posts in this series:

Part One, 

To be continued…

©️Stephen Tanham


Stephen Tanham is a director of the Silent Eye School of Consciousness, a not-for-profit organisation that helps people find a personal path to a deeper place within their internal and external lives.

The Silent Eye provides home-based, practical courses which are low-cost and personally supervised. The course materials and corresponding supervision are provided month by month without further commitment.

Steve’s personal blog, Sun in Gemini, is at stevetanham.wordpress.com.

You’ll find friends, poetry, literature and photography there…and some great guest posts on related topics.

Getting there…

January…and the clock is ticking down to spring. Work that has been going on all year  now changes gear. It began in earnest last year, with a research trip to the British Museum to see the art and artefacts of an ancient civilisation that was at least the equal of Egypt, but which is less well known today… Sumer.

Over seven thousand years ago, long before the pyramids were dreamed of, the people who would become the Sumerians settled in Mesopotamia. Their culture was rich and colourful. We know that music and the arts were of great importance to them…and their city of Uruk, home to up to eighty thousand people at its height, was the centre of their world.

Gilgamesh ruled in Uruk almost five thousand years ago and his story passed into legend and thence into myth. It comes down to us, echoing through the ages, as the Epic of Gilgamesh, which is regarded as the earliest great work of literature known to Man. The earliest version we now have was found in Nineveh. It was already ancient when a scribe named Sîn-lēqi-unninni collected the tales and wrote them down, over a thousand years before the birth of Jesus.

The story, though, is not ‘old’ in anything other than age. It tells of the adventures of the king, a story in which he is both villain and hero by turns. It is a very human story, though the gods of old walk through its pages, and although it can be read as ‘no more’ than a myth and an ancient curiosity, it can also be read as a representation of a human journey through life to the dawning of a greater awareness.

It is a magical story, wholly relevant to any seeker who has set their feet on a path towards self-development and a wider consciousness. It is also a story that resonates with our own time, where we encroach upon the natural world with little respect for its life and purpose.

The art and craftwork that we saw at the museum was beautiful and delicate. Tiny cylinder seals, intaglio carved and small enough to be worn in a ring, roll out scenes of gods, animals and starscapes.Jewellry of pure gold rests, fragile, on tiny springs so that leaves and flowers tremble with every movement. Ancient texts in cunieform, possibly the earliest form of writing and one of the greatest achievements of Sumer, tell forgotten tales…  It was a good place to begin and we left the museum aware that the text we would use for our April workshop sprang from a great civilisation with a deep understanding of the workings of the human mind and heart.

But, no matter how early you begin, the last few months are always against the clock as so much must be put into place when we begin to have an idea of numbers. This year, we know that once again, people will be converging from as far afield as Europe and the US to meet in a village in the Derbyshire Dales. Thousands of miles will be travelled between us as our various wheels turn and we head, from many different directions, to that central point of meeting.

It is easy to compare those diverse journeys to the greater one we have all taken as we come together at this point. Only a few who will be attending are Companions of the School, and we have each taken very different spiritual paths towards this moment in time. There are those who have followed a Shamanic path; there are Qabalists and one who refers to herself laughingly as a witch… yet who lives the life of a priestess of the old ways with all her being. There are ritualists and those who simply follow where their heart leads; Rosicrucians and mystics, Druids, housewives, magicians and scholars. We have all walked our individual paths alone, some have also studied with other groups and schools, some tend the hearthfire and many still forge their own way towards the goal we all share.

So what brings such a diverse crowd together, to share the adventure of a weekend workshop? That there will be fun goes without saying; these events are always a time of laughter. There is friendship of course… some old, some still to begin. Some are ‘old hands’, for others this will be a first time and a first meeting face to face with those only known through the ether.

Yet beyond the smiles and greetings there is something else at work. Each of us, from our own unique place in the great tapestry of life, is seeking a common understanding of something we feel to be greater than our normal human consciousness can fully grasp. We each have our own vision, our own guiding light… we may call it by many names, or know it only as a vague yet insistent pull at the heartstrings. Yet the further you walk along your chosen path, the less the details matter, you see only the light that floods both the paths and the space between them… and that light is the same.

This year the workshop takes us back five thousand years to the great civilisation of Sumeria. In exploring a world long dead, walking with the shadows of an ancient land, we are not harping back to the ‘olden days’ or hankering after times gone by… we are taking our own minds and placing them in an unfamiliar frame, where our perspective can shift. From fabric and gilding an illusion is born and, as within a dream, the illusion holds its own reality while it lasts. A ‘willing suspension of disbelief’ allows us to walk within that illusion and, as with a dream, what remains when we wake may cast the glow of understanding on our path.

We are holding up the jewel of being and letting it refract a thousand rainbows from many facets… and in those moments we may catch a glimpse of their colours. Such a moment does not bring the kind of knowledge that can be learned from books, nor the understanding of conscious thought, though these too have their place alongside what is learned through experience. What is reaped from such gatherings is no more than a seed… yet a seed may contain a tree, and a tree a forest. At the end of the weekend, each will take from this time out of time something unique to them alone which we hope will serve to shed a mirrored rainbow on their own journey.

As the wheel of the year turns towards Beltane, the time of renewal and Union, our gathering too will seek in the dark flame of a shadowy past a light for the future and perhaps move a small step closer to that greater Union between our human selves and that spark of Divine Fire that glows within every heart.

‘Gilgamesh is among the greatest things that can ever happen to a person.’
– Rainer Maria Rilke.

The Silent Eye’s Spring workshop for 2019

Full details, cost and booking form are available by clicking HERE

The Rotating Blade of Meaning

helicopter-meaning blog - 1

You have probably never heard of him. He was an engineer by training. He was the primary inventor and developer of the Bell helicopter, which made the promise of point to point flight a reality – though it had been discussed for centuries beforehand. This inventor, engineer and scientist was from an age when a few scientists could still challenge the overall approach of modern science – with its focus on the smaller and smaller, and lack of vision of the ‘whole’. They are almost gone as a species, so, in this series of posts, I’d like to pay tribute to Arthur M. Young and explain in non-technical language how important his work was… and is.

He was also, and unusually for a scientist, a master astrologer…

Despite being skilled in engineering and mathematics, Arthur Young returned to university as an adult to study Quantum Physics, recognising that here was something that completely altered the way we should visualise the world. He was fascinated by the consciousness potential of the relationship between the ‘observer’ and the ‘observed’, something that science had tried to ignore for centuries. This dismissal was brought up, sharply, by Quantum Theory, which proved that only the presence of the observer allowed the presence of the object to be ‘measured’. In other words, proved it was there… but not alone.

Helicopters make people nervous. They are  heavy objects, oddly shaped and dangerous looking. When flying, they would plunge to the ground if the massive rotor, above, stopped working or broke. We can think of a plane as being safer because it has fixed wings that give it the theoretical capability of gliding back to Earth. Most of them don’t. For both planes and helicopters, the focus is on making sure that they are reliable and controllable in a failsafe way, and, for helicopters, that controllability is a very complex thing…

Given Arthur Young’s involvement in the development of the small, commercial helicopter, it’s not surprising that he was focussed on this central aspect of control. We will see, later, how this led to startling revelations that bridged physics and philosophy.

Consider the opening photograph. It shows an Art Deco style wall lamp, caught in a beautiful moment of rainbow colour coming into the living room from a clear winter’s day, outside. It has its own beauty, and that is what draws us to it. It has a complex shape that can be considered at differing levels of detail. Some of these details (properties) are objective – they can be measured by science and classified into such properties as material and shape.

Some of the properties are subjective – they only mean something to us – the observer. If I wanted to break down the ‘stages’ of knowing the wall-light lit by the rainbow, I might deliberately ignore the feeling of beauty and its minutely shifting colour, and examine only the overall form of the object. Its fundamental shape is an inverted triangle. I know enough about the delicate glass from which the ‘saucer-shaped’ leaves are made to be concerned that they are easily broken. With that small set of information, I feel I know the material content of the object; I could describe it to someone else and they would get a good picture in their minds.

The world of science is concerned only with this latter description: the inverted triangle – the form of the object, and the chemical material from which it is made. Arthur Young called this the formal description. Science is focussed on this level of knowing because is the only one that is objective: that is, not dependent on how we see something (bad mood, poor eyesight, colour-blindness, etc.) Using this formal description, science can categorise the object, and make it part of a common set of things – a very important process.

But the human, awakened to the form and beauty (or not) of the world around them, has a much richer experience. I understand the objective nature of the inverted triangle and the delicate chemical composition of the fragile leaves, but I’m staring in wonder at the texture of the glass and how it is reflecting the rainbow. I lean closer and find that the glass has a faint but definite smell to it. It’s clinical but not unpleasant.

These are subjective impressions. Science could never reproduce them because they belong to me, to you, to anyone with sense organs. We all experience these things differently, but we can try, with language, with photography,  writing, art or poetry to convey that this is not simply an inverted triangle made of fine glass; it is a rich experience and unique in the entire history of the universe… You could experience something similar, but the fine details would belong only to each of us, differently–and they would change the event. We seldom consider this power we have – be a unique observer of the universal beauty all around us. We, whose bodies are made from the atoms created by ancient exploding stars, must come close to our zenith when we find such beauty and stop our everyday consciousness to ‘be’ with it.

Science is not deficient in its lack of concern for this; it’s simply that the full experience of the observer cannot be reduced to numbers… The collective mind that created numbers can never be subservient to them.

So far we have encountered the formal description of the object: the inverted triangle and the chemical properties of fine glass. We have also used our sense organs to experience the way the rainbow light shimmers on the petals of the lamp, and we have even smelled the glass. These sense impressions come from the object. They may be slightly different to each of us, but the properties from which they issue belong, also, to the object. Our object therefore possesses a formal description and specific sense impressions. The formal description could be shared, using shared language or mathematics, with anyone. The sense impressions could not, but could be likened to something else in our experience.

Step back and the experience of being an observer has two main aspects. There is a ‘me’ and an ‘it’. The experience of the wall lamp is deemed to be ‘out-there’, but the knowing resides ‘in-here’. I am helped, by the formal description, to recognise or locate the object, even if I’ve never been in that room.

Young said that, to realise the process and the power of knowing it is vital to (initially) separate our aspects of experience in this way. When we consider the received information and the sense data from the object, two more things happen in our perceptive mind. The first is that we place a value judgement on the experience – perhaps I am in awe of the beauty of the rainbow on the lamp. Without rationally considering it, I feel moved by an emotion, a kind of joy that this rare impression of living perfection is present.

The second ‘in-here’ aspect is the purpose of the object. In this case it’s not to show off rainbows, but to give light when evening comes. In other circumstances, my knowing of the lamp would have been part of the inventory of the capabilities of the room. Arthur Young named this the function. These two ‘in-here’ aspects belong to the observer, not to the object. We project them onto the experience based on our learning. Young called this kind of aspect projective, and the aspects belonging to the object, alone, he called objective. Where something in an aspect was specific, he used the term particular; where it had a shared nature, he named it general.

If we unravel the above example, there emerges a process of incremental perception which, conceptually, looks a lot like the opening of the famous Russian dolls:

  • Aspect one, which is an inverted triangle shape, made of a chemical structure of fragile glass.
  • Aspect two is the contents of the above plus the sense impressions belonging only to the objective nature of the inverted triangular shape (its colours, shades and smells)
  • Aspect three is the subjective experience of all the above plus the feeling of beauty and awe I have when my attention and perception is captured by the occasion.
  • Aspect four would be all the above plus the function of the wall-lamp, which, in this case, has been subverted by the unexpected rainbow… exactly what happens when we open ourselves to the possible in real life!

These four aspects therefore comprise: formal description, sense data, value and function. The first two are objective (‘out-there’), the second two (‘in-here’) are projective (subjective).

We can put these into a table for easier reference:

screenshot 2019-01-16 at 10.53.44

The creation of this was not a casual work. Arthur Young tested it against all the situations he knew of, in both a scientific and philosophical sense. He determined that it was a universal description, an ‘anatomy’ of how we perceive and how we ‘know’. These four stages – aspects – of knowing were at the heart of being human, they were not only the containers of what we learned, they were how we learned.

Four was an interesting number and features predominantly in the ancient mysteries. ‘Fourness’ is a key part of how mankind has conceived of the universal divisions of experience. Fourness is one of the keys to Astrology, in the form of the ‘Elements’ of Earth, Air, Fire and Water. For Arthur M. Young, an astrologer as well as a scientist, the notion of fourness at the centre of human experience was about to take him on a mind-expanding journey…

To be continued…

©️Stephen Tanham


Stephen Tanham is a director of the Silent Eye School of Consciousness, a not-for-profit organisation that helps people find a personal path to a deeper place within their internal and external lives.

The Silent Eye provides home-based, practical courses which are low-cost and personally supervised. The course materials and corresponding supervision are provided month by month without further commitment.

Steve’s personal blog, Sun in Gemini, is at stevetanham.wordpress.com.

You’ll find friends, poetry, literature and photography there…and some great guest posts on related topics.

Becoming Nothing

‘Become Nothing’

He didn’t use those exact words but that was the meaning of what he wrote. The words were suddenly there in the moment in my consciousness… and I knew they were right.

I had been reading a piece by Krishamurti – that fearless enemy of dogma, and proponent of the individual’s right to find their own spiritual path.

It does involve a certain amount of bravery – to contend with that feeling of ‘going against’ those of wisdom, those from whom we can learn, perhaps those of a tradition in which we were raised or trained. But that wasn’t Krishnamurti’s point; he didn’t deny anyone their well-found wisdom, rather, he urged each one of us to find our own… not second-hand knowledge. And to do that, the only way is to go out there and play with the universe; but play with a spirit of intent. And this is where it gets a little complex… until you see the whole of what he was saying…whereupon it gets very simple.

When you play with the universe, you do so in a way that stares in wonder at what you see. There’s a grown thing, covered in rust and tar and road rage; and it’s stuck onto our eyes, forming a film. This gritty, dirty, bitten lens imbues everything we try to see with its sticky waste. Staring in wonder at what you see is the cleaner that wipes the dirty grown thing from our eyes. For most, it happens in little stages, but there are some who ‘take the kingdom of heaven by storm’. They have a moment – a surging, brilliant moment that melts and washes what is keeping them from looking at the world, a universe that is alive and waiting to respond, personally, to their presence, their conversation, their love…

And when you find that relationship with what used to be ‘out there’ you will find that the primary desire of that sticky, dirty, bitten thing was always to change what was out there, because it wasn’t good enough – and having achieved that, to change it, again… and again….

The mind which knows only thought knows no rest.

‘Becoming nothing’ – what does it really mean? It is a mantra of power. It is a moment of revelation that alters our relationship to the whole of our lives. To reveal it via words would reduce the power of each of us being able to step through that mirror of self. It would rob the reader of the self-same experience. But this much can be said: that the word ‘nothing’ should not be the main focus until the rest is understood. What follows, then, is a journey of realisation that shifts who we are, and takes away its central power in our lives, leaving…

And you will have to fill in that space.

©️Stephen Tanham


Stephen Tanham is a director of the Silent Eye School of Consciousness, a not-for-profit organisation that helps people find a personal path to a deeper place within their internal and external lives.

The Silent Eye provides home-based, practical courses which are low-cost and personally supervised. The course materials and corresponding supervision are provided month by month without further commitment.

Steve’s personal blog, Sun in Gemini, is at stevetanham.wordpress.com.

You’ll find friends, poetry, literature and photography there…and some great guest posts on related topics.

Our Song of Truth…

*

We circle the Long Stone, feet planted gently but firmly on the earth…

Arms and hands hang loosely by our sides…

We close our eyes…

We breathe deeply…

We perform our breathing exercise…

And then again breathe deeply, listening only to the sound of our own breath…

After a time, the silence is broken by the Seed Sound of someone’s Word of Truth…

Nobody knows who sounded…

Nobody cares…

We are leaving the world of personalities behind…

Before the first Seed Sound has ended, another has sounded, and another, and then another, as our Song of Truth is raised…

Emboldened by the anonymity, carefree in the rising Song of Power we each sound out our Truth, chanting it again and again, delighting as each Seed bounces of each other, one or two entwining, playing and cascading off one another…

Until finally…

As the light of day fades…

Only one sound can again be heard…

Echoing off deep in to the starry far distance…

Everything returns to silence…

And we again focus on our breathing…

*

 

I and the Telescope

Do we have automatic filters of perception that screen out the magical?

How many miraculous events in the natural world occur before our eyes each day yet are not noticed by our everyday awareness? We often feel this to be our experience – but it happens within an adult ‘self’ which has grown from infancy to adulthood, and therefore is to be trusted, Such childish and fanciful notions are to be put to one side in favour of a world-picture that sees all such things as coincidental and purposeless.

Much of this ‘structure’ of skeptical perception can be investigated by a useful metaphor: the antique telescope. Imagine that, instead of our eyes, we look, permanently, through two nautical-style telescopes at the world. But these are not ordinary optical instruments; rather, they divide our simple act of ‘seeing’ into three stages. The first and second are related to the world of raw perception and the near-instantaneous emotional response to it. The third stage of this ‘telescopic vision’ is that of the intellect – more usually described as the mind. These three stages are learned as we mature and fold out of the flattened telescope like the kind of brass antique that we see on collectors’ TV programmes.

What we actually ‘see’ is conditioned by the expanded telescope such that our final experience drops through each of those stages of perception before settling in our consciousness. We do not need to think about it; it just happens. The older we get the more set this pattern becomes. Some of this programming develops to reduce the energy needed to perceive. The mind is really good at taking the essence of a repeated experience and simply replaying what it considers to be the ‘skeleton’ of the event. It can add the precise details, such as whether the car in front of us is turning left or right, in real-time. Working swiftly, it both reduces our energy consumption and knows where to ‘insert’ the life-saving bits into the whole…

But it’s no longer the whole, and year on year repetition of this historical way of seeing things gradually takes the intellectual, emotional and ‘something more primal’ magic out of what would otherwise be a constant state of wonder. When we’re driving a car, this is essential. We would otherwise be overwhelmed by the data and the intensity of the experience. Our ‘robotic’ perception is fast and reliable. But when we are staring at a sunset or sunrise, and the sky makes patterns that are both beautiful and meaningful to our lives, then we might want to consider how to ‘collapse’ our telescopes and be prepared to stand more naked in front of the splendour before us.

We might then discover a much more personal and intimate relationship with the world – our world.

©️Stephen Tanham


Stephen Tanham is a director of the Silent Eye School of Consciousness, a not-for-profit organisation that helps people find a personal path to a deeper place within their internal and external lives.

The Silent Eye provides home-based, practical courses which are low-cost and personally supervised. The course materials and corresponding supervision are provided month by month without further commitment.

Steve’s personal blog, Sun in Gemini, is at stevetanham.wordpress.com.

You’ll find friends, poetry, literature and photography there…and some great guest posts on related topics.