I would like to talk about ways of knowing, especially since A Course in Miracles places such emphasis on knowing and on knowledge. I think there is something we can learn in this. These are just notes about my own practice and understanding. They aren’t intended to be a final word.
A Course in Miracles was written (channeled, scribed - pick your verb) and edited by academics. In that domain, knowledge is basically what you can intellectually defend. For example, I know a lot about Emily Dickinson but next to nothing about David Foster Wallace.
This kind of knowledge is cherished by the ego, because it feeds so readily into what Tara Singh called the lovelessness of "I get it and you don't."
Is there another way to think about knowing?
Say that I am hiking a familiar trail and notice a little path off it. I decide to follow it and ten minutes later end up in a clearing full of wild flowers and a lovely view of the valley. I don't necessarily know anything that you could test or teach, but my view of the world and my experience of being in is sweeter now. It's richer.
Nelson Goodman calls this kind of knowing "finding a fit," and notes that "comprehension and creation go on together” (Ways of World Making 21).
How does this relate to A Course in Miracles?
The course is about relationship - our relationshp with ourself, with our brothers and sisters, and with the world (e.g., T-1.V.3:1-8).
Also, A Course in Miracles is not about competition (T-7.III.3:3-4). It's not about weaponizing values-based judgment at all (T-30.VI.2:1). Comparison in the world is never helpful (T-24.II.1:1).
What A Course in Miracles calls "knowledge" and what Goodman calls "comprehension and creation" are about finding ways to get along better with each other, and to be happy in ways that help rather than hinder the happiness of others.
What might this look like in practice? I will give you a personal example.
My father was a fascinating man. He was extremely intelligent and deeply religious. My sense of justice, my willingness to ask hard questions and be in dialogue with those I fear are all skills I learned at his feet.
Still, for many reasons, not all good ones, it was hard to be his son.
After he died, I spent a lot of time thinking about our relationship and how it had shaped me. The fact that he was gone in a formal way lent my thinking real intensity. I went to some dark and difficult places.
One day, out walking, I saw with utter clarity that I had been a confusing and challenging son for my father. I liked cooking and Dungeons and Dragons more than sports; preferred poetry to hunting. I loved drama; he did not. I remember him saying once - truly baffled at his twelve-year-old son - "why do you need to feel everything so intensely?"
This insight wasn't about behavior - what Dad had done or not done, what'd I'd done or not done. It didn't translate the relationship magically into something "good." It was psychological more than spiritual. It wasn’t the final word, just a clarifying perspective.
It was a recognition that the relationship had been challenging in both directions, and that both my father and I had been blessed and hurt in it. We were equals that way. I knew the relationship had caused Dad grief, that he had carried regrets, and that he, too, had been in pain. Same as me.
Same as me.
After that, I no longer felt as much anxiety or frustration with Dad. I still thought of him often. Sometimes I had to work through this or that memory, but by and large, the hurt, fear and anger that had so long characterized our relationship was gone.
Is it clear? I knew the relationship better. That was what happened. And the result was peace. The knowing wasn't like information you'd find in a book. It was like all of a sudden a bunch of jagged puzzle pieces bouncing around in my psyche just slid into place. There was nothing I needed to do.
I do not say it has to happen this way for you. Or even that it will! Obviously you should read and practice A Course in Miracles in a way that works for you. Obviously the patterns comprising our lives must differ. Dads here, Moms there. Addiction here, co-dependence there. It’s okay.
I just point out that there is a way of understanding and practicing this material that inevitably leads us to a deeper and deeper sense of inner peace and quiet joy - a stillness that transcends separation - and that I know this because it is the path I am walking, and you are walking it with me.
Love,
Sean