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The Known and The Unknown

Knowledge is a field of the past. It comes from one of two sources: imitation or insight. The array of ways to register information is practically infinite, but the registering process is always an act of imitation of the fact. Knowledge relies on memory, but memory doesn’t rely on knowledge. To be experienced is to be good at imitating memory. Insight is different. In insight, the image emerges from an internal space, bringing the new to light. Nevertheless, insight becomes a memory too quickly, so even a creative mind falls into the condition of copying the act into a memory. To learn is to inquire, and that brings about insight.


When insight becomes real (i.e., when it becomes physically available for the rest of humans) its outcome brings us great energy. That energy doesn’t come from the idea or the object, but from each of the observers themselves, and what it means for them. It was noted that meaning is future, but once the new becomes factual, it enters the domain of time. As the words or objects become a memory, they start shedding its energy off by the act of time. Hence, to learn is energy, and knowledge is the accumulation of that energy.


All observers seek the expansion of knowledge in a particular path to avoid the complete disintegration of the facts that conform the already existing structure of knowledge. However, a fact can only lose energy over time. This is why nothing stays the same in the universe. Knowledge is a distortion in the field; it can only grow disproportionally with respect to everything else. Since knowledge is in a direction, it creates all kinds of imbalances. Whatever is already going in one direction cannot go in every direction at the same time. Therefore, in order to grow, and keep itself alive, knowledge seeks to build layers. It grows layers of facts, which will protect it against the perpetuality of motion in existence, which is why we see particular knowledge becoming specialized in certain areas of study and disciplines over time.


The word knowledge can be traced to the Proto-Indo-European root “Gno-,” which translates as “to know.” To know is to acquire; it is the comprehension of a collection of facts. The word comprehend comes from the Latin word “comprehendere,” which means “to take together.” It is formed by the Latin prefix “com-,” which means “with, together,” and the Latin word “prehendere,” which means “to seize.” Knowledge is a collection of facts brought together. The question would be, who do we seize the facts from? Or, from where do we bring them together? There is insight, which is where knowledge comes from. Additionally, we’re seeing that there is something that knowledge seeks protection from. Therefore, there is clearly an aspect of existence before knowledge. Could such an aspect be what gives rise to knowledge in the first place?


The senses are always seeking. The senses are antennas to the outer world that seek to catch information. Part of the mind’s job is to store that information. However, the whole of reality is not directly observable, so we have to discover it by abstracting the rest of the facts. Without a quest there’s no knowledge. To embark on a quest is to question, and to question is to ask; but again, ask who? Intuitively, one is tempted to quickly respond, “ask ourselves.” However, if we are the ones responsible for the answers, then why ask any questions in the first place? The issue is that all centers, relative to the observer, eventually leave the field of perception because the space there is absolute and the measure of motion is infinite – or at least that’s my perception as a human. All centers are empty relative to the observer. Each of us is, at our core, just empty. Nothing precedes the self. Pure space, which is pure motion or pure function, is at the center of every observable point in the universe. I’ll cover this particular aspect of reality in human perception later on.


Insight is first, then knowledge. Insight means “to see inside.” Knowledge, which comes from outside, is just a relationship within the activity of insight. All new knowledge comes from within. We all, without exception, have the capacity to inquire, and acquire new knowledge. The center observes in emptiness, and it is before all there is to conceptualize. To observe is the twin brother of not knowing, and I think we erroneously invented those two concepts for the exact same thing. It is observation that brings about insight, and in turn insight reduces it all to one of two answers: “true or false,” or “good or bad.” These two options are the bottom line of all inquiries.


Inquiring is the assessing of going one way or another, and that is a function of whether the direction is the right or wrong one. In turn, those answers expand the entire content of the observer to become part of the self. What is implied by it is that direction might be “right or left” because there is an observer, so all decisions’ purposes are ultimately reduced to fit the dimensions relative to the position of the observer. Insight creating knowledge truly feels more of a geometrical issue than a matter of progression.

The shape of a concept is defined by its limits. No concept arises without inquiry. Ideas are the result of the direction internal quests take, and observation is the first step towards such quests. A question is the first limit in the search for answers. The boundaries of what we know separate us from what we don’t. Therefore, we need to reach that boundary and “stare” into the unknown in order to generate the emergence of new realities. When one says a question is the limit that separates what reality is and what it is not, it shouldn’t be taken metaphorically. Let’s see how that quest starts. Let us use question words to see what I mean.


What? is a boundary defining the form;

Where? is a limit in reference to other limits;

Why? is a cause, the limit between what’s known and the limit which is still not known;

How? is a framework, the limit that has a relationship with a contiguous one before and after;

How much? is a quality inside the framework;

How many? is also a quality inside the framework;

Which? is an indication for the separation of limits, to exclude the rest;

When? is a limit in relationship to an event;

Who? delimits responsibility.


All of these words have different meanings in respect to their qualities, but they all point to the same thing: direction. All questions are orders to consciousness for answers. If we question other humans, we are ordering them to give an answer. If we question ourselves, we are requesting an answer from our own consciousness. Hence, answers usually come in the form of ordered structures. The more ordered the observation is, the more rational the answer will be. I’m not saying that the quality of order resides in observation. I’m implying that to observe orders. For knowledge, it does so in two senses: in the sense of giving direction (the question,) and in the sense of rationalizing that direction (the answer.)


Answers always come from the center, but the center doesn’t have proportions. Therefore, it is not clear how it propels insight forward. A middle is measurement, which is time, but a middle is not a center. A center is infinite and rational on its own. It doesn’t care about size either because it is already relative to the whole. My center can’t be different from yours, neither from the center of an observer at the edge of the universe. Whatever observation is, it must reside in there. How is observation such emptiness?


Let’s see, when one sees a flower, the flower is not empty; however, to observe the flower without knowing what it is, is psychological emptiness first. That is, the thing’s name is not “flower” at first sight; we instead gave it that name out of nothing. It is thus that any quest leads to a center from which all limits emerge.


We are limited because we are born out of boundaries;

A woman is a boundary; both physical and psychological;

A man is a boundary; both physical and psychological;

Boundaries are limits;

Limitation is the work of time;

Time gives rise to matter;

All matter is a question;

An answer is the outcome of consciousness;

Consciousness is the outcome of observation;

Observation is the work of the void;

The void is the unknown;

Death is the unknown.


The unknown sets out on a quest for meaning through knowledge. I noted before that “the thing” that created the future must be the same thing that created the word “future.” Therefore, the observer observes himself, and out of that, time emerges. The center creates the whole of existence. There’s even a theory for it in science; it is called “The Big Bang.”


One could figuratively picture how the quest works by imagining knowledge as a giant web of interconnected facts. Let’s do a thought experiment with it. Imagine each node where the web interconnects facts as a sphere. Each sphere contains knowledge. The web and the spheres are floating flat in the nothingness. Each ball is transparent, so one can see the information it contains. Let’s now see ourselves as a little person who can hop onto each ball to look for information. Where knowledge is more concentrated, there’s not even the need to jump, and one can simply walk on facts. However, where knowledge starts dissipating, the spheres start spreading apart. As knowledge is more and more diffused, the distance between each ball widens. One, as a little person, starts jumping further and further until the next fact is so far away that one could barely make it. Finally, one is at the furthest point from the known. The rest of the spheres are left back, and one is facing an infinite void. It looks as if by staring at such emptiness, a new fact would spring out of it, and surprisingly it does. A new sphere or fact emerges and we jump on it, adding it to the web of knowledge.


At the beginning we didn’t have much. Yet, we built an entire human civilization out of knowledge we created using ourselves as the stepping stone for order. A psychological order translated into a physical order. Nowadays, we have satellites in the outer regions of the solar system, robots on Mars, cures for invisible diseases, etc. We can trace it all back to us. Man invented his world. Then he named every fact, and called the collection of everything “knowledge.” The way it all works is by means of references, and references are metaphors. Thus, man creates metaphors so that new facts are born. Later, out of the emerging facts, he would make newer metaphors so that in turn he could bring other newer facts into existence. The process repeats over and over. Without metaphors there is no knowledge. No object in this universe exists without a reference. Time itself doesn’t exist without an end.


We base the creation of knowledge on what truth is, and we see truth is tracked down to the center of the observer. We observe, and give names to our observations. Our observations later find function, principally as applications to metaphors that we created previously, after combining them with current facts. One can’t help but stumble into silly statements such as, “so, man invents man, then studies man, to later define man.” As foolish as it may sound, this is really one of the most common doings in the field of knowledge.


Knowledge is a consequence of learning, but knowledge is much less important than learning. Learning, which is to stop, to see, and to observe, can give us as much knowledge as we wish for. Knowledge, instead, will seal itself into the structure of pride and cause many sorts of perversions in human relationships. Of course, knowledge is great when the application is noble. The greatest and noblest of the applications of knowledge is to keep us learning more, for the learning mind is a mind that is whole, and it aims for freshness and plenitude.


A person who thinks security is found through knowledge becomes stiff and closed to change. The one who is an authority in the field is the pride and pinnacle of the ideal. He, who represents the path, becomes stubborn and bitter. A life full of knowledge is nothing in comparison to a life of continuous learning. In a particular sense, because of humanity’s current appreciation of time, we fool ourself into the structure of knowledge. Knowledge can’t possibly deliver us security because security is affirmation. Knowledge is the result of affirmation, but it is not affirmation itself. In other words, the abstraction in the order – the present if one wills – is security. That which we are sure of becomes knowledge, not the other way around.


Knowledge brings us closer to truth, only if we’re open to change. See, the problem is that specializing too much keeps us away from the truth. When we’re caught in our own psychological composition, we either live in the past, or in the flow of some dream. Say we could achieve knowledge about everything – “the universe in a nutshell.” Should we ever achieve such ridiculousness, time would stop, wouldn’t it? What would be left? To know is to seize time. Every piece of information is a fixed point in the universe. To know everything would mean to fix everything – all functions would be over. To not know set the universe in motion. Whatever not knowing is, it must be the same as movement.

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