“Every word, every image used for God is a distortion
more than a description.”

“Then how does one speak of God?”

“Through silence.”

“Why, then, do you speak in words?”

At that the Master laughed uproariously.
He said, “When I speak,
you mustn’t listen to the words, my dear.
Listen to the silence.”
Author unknown

A MAN WAS walking along the street one day and looked across to the other side to see a person he thought he recognized, so he crossed the street and approached the person.
“Hi there,” he said. “Don’t I know you from somewhere?"

“Indeed you do.” said the person.

“Who are you,” asked the man.

“I am God," said the person.

Shocked, the man said, “You’re not God. How could you be God?"

“How could I not be?" she said.

I have had many interesting reactions from people who have read this little parable. They have ranged from, “God is a woman?” to “What the heck are you talking about?” andeverything else in between. They are similar to the reactions you get when you present someone with a koan. A koan is a riddle of sorts, such as, “Does a Dog have Buddha nature?” These koans, on their face, appear irrational; and, of course, they are. These reactions do not surprise me, however, as most people don’t spend a lot of time thinking about what God is. But what did shock me was the response I got from a person when I asked if he wanted to know what God is and he said that he didn’t think he was ready for that yet. From that simple answer something became very clear. People are comfortable with God being the unknown. This way we can easily shape an image of God for ourselves, which is the most pleasing to us. God becomes Identifiable to us even though we still believe that God cannot be known to us while we are alive.

In our youth we eagerly sought answers to life’s most fundamental questions. Who is God? Why do I exist? Who am I? What is a soul? Why are we here? What is the universe? What is the meaning of life? But we grew up and stopped asking, because there were no answers to these questions. Or at least it seemed that way.

Stephen Hawking once said in an interview that he is like a child who has never grown up. He never stopped asking questions. He said if we discover a complete theory of the universe, it should, in time, be understandable in broad principle by everyone, not just a few scientists. Then we shall all, philosophers, scientists and just ordinary people, be able to take part in the discussion of why it is that we and the universe exist. If we find the answer to this, it would be the ultimate triumph of human reason. For then we would know the mind of God.

But even after the scientists do all of their research and come to their conclusions, there always remains the simple question, which is repeatedly asked by every child, “WHY?” Children ask why all the time because they are curious. They are born with inquisitive minds. As adults we stop asking. But still we instinctively know that there is more to this life than meets the eye. It is essential that we continue to ask the questions and to keep searching for the answers. If we stop asking we will never discover the answer to life.

I have been in the Martial Arts for over 17 years and the Master of our Organization was O’ Sensei Richard Kim. He gave lots of lectures, many of which were on spirituality and life. Sensei Kim told us on numerous occasions that the secret to life is, “Do you see what you see?” He said it so much it became like a mantra. When teaching us a technique O’ Sensei would physically show us the move. Without fail, someone would step with the wrong foot or punch with the wrong hand and he would gather us back and say those great words: “DO YOU SEE WHAT YOU SEE?” On and on this would go, until we finally watched closely enough to actually see what it is we were looking at. This simple lesson taught us to never accept what we see with our eyes.

We all look at things through different lenses and those lenses are biased. Ten people can look at the same thing and see it in a unique way. But that thing we are looking at does not change. It is what it is. It is our inability to take away the bias which causes us to not see what is. The answers to life are simple, but because our minds are clouded with all sorts of bias we cannot see what we see. So we must keep asking questions, and keep searching for answers. By doing this we will find our way through the clouds so we can see clearly. So we can see what is!

A koan can be an igniter, which sparks the interest in the search for answers we stopped asking. It will bring you back to those days of innocence where everything was possible in your imagination. It is our innocence that we have forgotten; it has become stifled by egotistical thinking. However, thinking about a koan cannot solve it, nor can any koan be answered this way. A koan is meant to urge one to ponder on its suggestion. It is the wondering that is the aim of the koan.

But how is it possible to wonder about something without analyzing it logically or creating my own ideas of what it means? The mere fact that I am thinking on it suggests that I am searching for a logical solution. And this, of course, is true because you are searching for the answer with your mind. You are in fact thinking about it. The greatest minds in the world could not solve these riddles, as the very use of the mind is what precludes one from finding the answer.

So then, how does one explore a koan without the use of the mind? Let’s begin by asking this question: Where do thoughts come from?

Are thoughts stored somewhere in the brain, waiting for you to activate them? And if so, what thought prompted you to access this particular thought or that particular thought? And where did the first thought come from? If all thoughts are stored in the brain then we all know everything that is known and everything that is unknown. This would suggest that there is no such thing as an original thought, only remembered thoughts. Thus, people like Jalaluddin Rumi, Albert Einstein and Stephen Hawking were all people who just had a great ability to remember their thoughts.

Could it be that your thoughts do not come from the brain at all but are evaluated and fashioned by the brain when they arrive and then hardwired to the main frame, as it were? Is it possible that the human brain is not the origin of thought but merely a receptor for thoughts? Ask yourself, do you think the thought, or is thinking the act of engaging the thought?

Let’s propose that your thoughts come from somewhere other than the brain, and presuming this to be true, where then does thought come from?

It would be in fact the same place your thoughts go when you have them. There! There, is where all thoughts reside. It is the place where all koans are answered and where all koans are derived. It is the “GAP” many teachers and sages have talked about, and getting there requires a fine-tuning of the receiver, YOU. You are a receptor of all, which is there, but it is difficult to hear a gentle voice amongst the cacophony of our everyday existence.

In Sensei Kim’s lectures he would call it accessing the subconscious. He talked about how all things are possible in this realm, and it is the place where all minds in the universe are joined. He said that in this place you become aware of your inner or higher self, the real YOU. It is also in this place that you become awake to thoughts before you become conscious of them. This place has been alluded to in many ways, such as “The soundless sound,” and “The silence beyond the sound."

Sensei Kim would talk about koans in his lectures. It was wonderful to listen to him talk about them and see him break into hysterical laughter for seemingly no reason. I can still see him, bent over, slapping his knees, as he laughed uncontrollably. We laughed along with him, sometimes not knowing the reason for his laughter. But when you know the answer to the koan, asking the question can be laughable.

To enter this place, to get there, you must look inside yourself. And to accomplish this, you must be still and quiet. Find the time to be alone in a quiet place and ask yourself who is the seer. Your eyes are only receptors of light, which is analyzed by the brain. But who is it that is doing the seeing? Who is it that sees through your eyes? We are observers of all that we see and do, yet no scientist has ever been able to find anywhere within the human body or brain “the observer.” All they have discovered are the reactions our body and brain have to what the observer observes. By taking the time to ponder the unknown, in time you will notice the observer in your body. You will meet what Albert Einstein regarded as the mysterious. He wrote: "The most beautiful experience is to meet the mysterious. This is the source of all true art and scholarly pursuit. He, who has never had this experience, who is not capable of rapture, and who cannot stand motionless with amazement, is as good as dead. His eyes are closed."

I invite you to open your eyes and experience the mysterious by being open to other possibilities of reality. There is much knowledge to be gained when the cup is empty, but the knowledge falls to the floor to be discarded when the cup is full.

Quiet the noise, escape the tumult and enter the rapture of being there. While there, ask the question, “What is the sound of one hand clapping?” Then be still, and be patient, and the answer will come. For the answer cannot be found in the mind, but in every place it is not.

But to tap into this place of infinite wonder requires not only a finely tuned you, but a belief in it. It requires a child-like inhibition and love, a surrendering from the known to the unknown. It is then, and only then, that the truth will not be discovered but revealed.

The wonderful poet Rumi put it so beautifully:

“Soul receives from soul that knowledge,
therefore not by book nor from tongue.
If knowledge of mysteries comes after emptiness of mind,
that is illumination of heart."

© Edward Williamson, 2005