Curiosity and Intuition

Curiosity and Intuition

Not long ago, a friend asked how I’ve come to this point in life with the vocation and avocations that I have. Were these all conscious choices or not? I thought long and hard about it, and decided it was a combination of mind and gut – of curiosity and intuition. Sometimes, I felt like the job offers appeared before me and the universe was saying, “Okay, how about this one?” Curiosity propelled me toward research and ultimately jumping in. Other times, my intuition said, “Hey! You need to be over there, now!” So, I took the fresh position without any research whatsoever. Pure gut. Pure terror, more like it.

Yet, at each of these moments, I grew in equal measure. Curiosity provided expansion while intuition afforded me introspection and trust in something greater than myself. Fate. God. Destiny. Connectedness. Consciousness. Whatever you wish to call it, that seems to be the place where that voice-not-ours originates.

According to the University of Chicago, “intuition”  was first used in a text at the end of the 15th century. Until the 17th century intuition meant “mentally looking at”; “the act of regarding, examining, or inspecting”; “a view, regard, or consideration of something”, all of which are now obsolete meanings. In the modern world, it reflects insight not necessarily borne of cognition. In fact, the root of the word intuition means “to look over, to watch over.” Who, or what, is watching and even more important, who or what is speaking to us?

Conversely, curiosity is nothing but mental questioning, inquisitiveness stemming from, “I don’t know but I really want to know.” One might say it has less to do with the mind and more to do with the heart. It is an eagerness to learn, a desire for expansiveness of mind, body, or emotion. Curiosity makes us step into the water without knowing the depth or temperature, to see what lies at the bottom. Oddly enough, the word curiosity stems from the same root as “to cure.” Curiosity is hungry mind.

Both words have that measure of terror with them. I don’t mean this literally; I mean that there is the sense of the unknown, the essence that we might be too fragile to cope with what is on the other side of knowledge, or that we might not like what we find. The opposites of these two words, curiosity and intuition, might be equally interesting to measure: indifference and intellect, respectively. They take on a hard aspect, something cold and somewhat lifeless.

Why explore these? I am curious. Why do they exist? Why are humans propelled to investigate while others do not? Is this an evolutionary drive? Why do we rely on intuition when it might steer us wrong? Are we really able to let go of fact and simply go with our gut?

This question becomes highlighted when we talk about divinity and our motivations in perfecting humanity. What would our humanity look like without curiosity and intuition? Would it be cold intellect, heartless? Or would it be mindless automatons, moving through the world without the reason or passion to ask why? Would either of these antithetical properties propel us forward toward becoming better versions of ourselves? I’d have to say no.

Yet, today, we fight something something insidious, something related and underlying: apathy. We fight it in our politics, our work places, our schools, and even in our families. It’s easier to take the intuition and curiosity to the depths rather than bring it into the light. It’s interesting that this is what our Masonic Philosophical Society meetings do – bring out curiosity and intuition and work toward crushing apathy.

And time after time, I hear how needed these meetings are, how hungry people are for color where there is only black and white. Only divisiveness. It seems to me that something we should, as the “human race” should cultivate is curiosity and intuition, in our babies and children. Forty years ago, Dr. Wayne Dyer cultivated the idea that we limit curiosity in our children, and it creates frightened or apathetic adults; adults who do look to others for guidance at every turn are neither curious nor intuitive. They have lost touch with themselves and thus, lose their own sovereignty. Can humanity move forward without such sovereignty? I do not think so.

So, here is the encouragement:

  • Be curious about something you “think” you detest.
  • Listen with an open mind to a political rival, and ask questions.
  • When the voice tells you to send your friend an email, do it.
  • Pick up that call from a number you don’t know, when the drive tells you to.
  • Listen to the quite nudges of your mind and heart.
  • Smile at a stranger, hug your boss or your coworker if you need to, and learn to listen to the subtleties of human movement in the world.

The world opens wide, full of wonder, when we listen deeply.

Metaphor: The Language of the Mystics

Metaphor: The Language of the Mystics

In the outskirts of every society, you will find the mystics. Some are holy men in monasteries; some are Buddhists seeking enlightenment; some are public figures; some are Christians serving Jesus; some are Freemasons, like myself. Mystics have an amazing amount in common despite all that. They are not satisfied with what they learn in books, with ceremonies passed on for the sake of tradition, or with faith that comes from an assertion that “You really ought to believe in this.” What they want, instead, is conviction— the kind of conviction that comes only from a direct spiritual experience. Many say they have found it.

How do mystic seers convey their experience in words, or in stories? Our ancestors’ answer was: with tons and tons of different images – with metaphors, that is. Metaphors, after all, are symbols used to creatively describe a deeper reality, to give a sense of the color and taste of it. There are many metaphors in the teachings of Freemasonry.

How significant, then, is the relationship between mysticism and metaphor?

There are hundreds, maybe thousands or millions of metaphors in existence about mystical things. Rumi, the great Sufi poet, once said that God created everything in the outer world to serve as a metaphor for the inner. The outside world contains objects that can awaken and remind us of truths that, when applied, can be of real benefit. For example, if you read mystic literature about the soul, you might find the soul as ladder, the soul as garden, the soul as mountain, the soul as ark, the soul as mansion or castle, the soul as shining, living stone or even precious jewel, and so on. There are equally as many metaphors about the path to enlightenment.

34382722213_6e1d57324f_zA metaphor is a comparison. A metaphor establishes a relationship at once; it leaves more to the imagination. It is a shortcut to the meaning; it sets two unlike things side by side and makes us see the likeness between them. A metaphor is a comparison that doesn’t use the words “like” or “as,” while a simile is one that does use those words.

Why do metaphors in the writings of the mystics even matter? As the great consciousness-researchers Julian Jaynes and Owen Barfield both explained in their writings, it is very difficult to discuss consciousness except through metaphor. Metaphors create new ways of thinking, new realities, and new worlds.

Do metaphors shape the way we think? Let us look at an example.

Juliet is the Sun
From Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet is the metaphor, “Juliet is the sun.”

This statement equates two different things: one human, the other sidereal. Juliet is a human; the sun is a star. How do they get to be equal?

For the purpose of illustration, I will show how a metaphor is born, logically. We could say:

There is a human called Juliet.
There is a star called the Sun.
The human called Juliet is radiant.
The star called the Sun is radiant.
Therefore, the human called Juliet is like a star, called the Sun (because of the radiance).

Not very thrilling or poetic, is it? How can we make it more exciting? How is the metaphor created? First, we delete all the unnecessary words and steps, only leaving the simile “Juliet is like the Sun.” The final deletion comes about by eliminating the word, “like.” Voila! “Juliet is the Sun.” 34382660583_c940b54102_z

As we can see, this metaphor comes alive through deletion and transformation. Keep taking away words until something “becomes” something else. Keep stripping away the Maya and the illusion until we arrive at the truth: the direct perception or the mystical experience.

In the words of William Blake, “If the doors of perception were cleansed, everything would appear to a man as it is, infinite.”

If you have ever had an “aha” moment, there is something wonderfully joyous about experiencing the mystical – to remember that we have spiritual faculties in us open to the dimensions beyond. Wonder. Awe. The metaphorical language of the mystics points us to the stars – bridging earth to heaven and to a world beyond itself.

But how do we react when we encounter something that exists outside of our realm of study? Does everything have to fit into what is already known, otherwise it doesn’t exist? The experience of the Transcendent seems to defy expression.

One of the greatest mystical saints of all times, St. Teresa of Avila, says that the intellect cannot go with her to the higher realms. It must stay behind. She writes in her book The Interior Castle: “One should let the intellect go and surrender oneself into the arms of love, for His Majesty will teach the soul what it must do at that point.”

I do believe the central role of metaphor in shaping consciousness can be impactful in someone’s life. I also believe the intellect is not always our ally. 35192178685_29b4993ed4_z

Such was the case with Edgar Mitchell, astronaut on the Apollo 14 mission. On his return trip from the moon, he stared out of the window at our blue planet, Earth. At that moment something profound hit him. All of a sudden he was lifted out of his normal consciousness and felt an intense oneness with planet Earth and the universe. In a flash of higher consciousness a higher truth was revealed to him that dramatically changed his intellectual perspective. (Watch Edgar Mitchell’s “We Are One” video)

How lovely to live in possibility, to think in beautiful metaphors, to cherish the precious jewel in each sacred word,  and to overflow with sweeping amazement. Your turn. What mystical metaphor would you want to leave behind as a jewel to humanity?


Note: Featured images are from the Art Exhibition, Beyond the Stars; The Mystical Landscapes from Monet to Kandinsky.