Absolute Consciousness

The Asymmetry of Awareness

There's a curious thing about consciousness that most of us never notice: when we're not aware of our existence, we don't know we're not aware. This asymmetry reveals consciousness as fundamentally binary, either you recognize your existence in this very moment, anchored in the "I Am," or you don't. There's no halfway state, and more importantly, there's no warning system to tell you when you've drifted away.

Think about sleep. While sleeping, you have no idea you're unconscious. You can't think, "Oh, I'm asleep now." The recognition only comes upon waking. This same principle operates during our waking hours, but we rarely notice it. We can spend hours, days, even years in a kind of waking sleep, unaware of our fundamental existence, and crucially, unaware that we're unaware.

What do I mean by The Absolute? It's unconditional being, awareness existing without reliance on thought, feeling, or external circumstance. It's that profound, silent recognition when we directly know our own existence, the fundamental reality beneath all the identities and stories we've constructed. It requires no proof, no thought, no validation. It simply is, and you are it.

The Unexpected Doorways

In everyday life, we typically touch this state only through chance encounters or intense experiences. A moment of breathtaking beauty might suddenly pierce through our mental fog. The adrenaline rush of extreme sports can jolt us into presence. Even shock, receiving devastating news or facing imminent danger, can shatter our thought-stream and leave us momentarily face-to-face with bare existence. These experiences briefly awaken us to what we are beneath the narrative.

But here's the challenge: we spend most of our time with attention directed outward, toward tasks, worries, entertainment, relationships, the endless stream of thoughts and sensations. This outward focus isn't inherently problematic. We need to engage with the world. The problem arises when we forget to return, when the outward flow becomes so habitual that we lose touch with the source entirely.

Due to relentless conditioning and the sheer volume of external stimuli competing for our attention, we gradually forget that there's anywhere to return to. Like a river that's forgotten its source, we flow endlessly outward, depleting ourselves without understanding why we feel so empty.

Living in an Unrecognized Dream

When we forget The Absolute while awake, we enter a state remarkably similar to dreaming. In dreams, we accept the dream narrative as reality, completely forgetting our waking identity. Similarly, in waking life, we can become so absorbed in our personal narrative, our roles, our problems, our desires, that we forget the fundamental "I Am" that underlies it all.

The asymmetry means we can't catch ourselves in the act of forgetting. By the time we might notice, we've already forgotten. We may spend entire days navigating life on autopilot, making decisions, having conversations, even believing we're fully conscious, all while the deepest recognition of existence remains dormant. Only in rare moments of sudden awakening do we realize, with a start, "Where have I been?"

When this connection to our fundamental existence is lost, we unconsciously seek to fill the void through external means. We chase validation, accumulation, stimulation, anything to ease the subtle but persistent sense that something essential is missing. But it's like trying to quench thirst by painting pictures of water. The fulfillment we seek can only come from reconnecting with what we are at the source.

The Sophisticated Distractions

Perhaps most insidious are the activities that seem to lead toward consciousness but actually lead away. Spiritual practices themselves can become elaborate distractions if they focus on concepts rather than direct recognition. Deep study of scriptures, adherence to complex belief systems, philosophical speculation, elaborate rituals, unless their sole purpose is guiding awareness back to immediate recognition of existence, they too can pull us away from The Absolute.

These sophisticated distractions are particularly effective because they give the impression of spiritual progress while actually reinforcing the outward focus. We can spend decades accumulating spiritual knowledge, mastering practices, even teaching others, all while the simple recognition of "I Am" remains as elusive as ever. The asymmetry ensures we won't notice this spiritual bypassing because, once again, when we're not aware, we don't know we're not aware.

The Practice of Return

The path back isn't complex, but it requires understanding the asymmetry and working with it rather than against it. Since we can't rely on noticing when we've drifted away, we must build in regular returns to recognition. The question I learned to ask repeatedly throughout the day is: "Am I aware of my existence right now?"

This isn't a mental exercise or philosophical inquiry. It's a direct pointing toward immediate recognition. The question cuts through whatever narrative has captured attention and creates a momentary opening. In that opening, if we don't immediately fill it with thought, the recognition of existence can dawn, not as an idea but as an undeniable knowing.

The key is frequency. Because the asymmetry means we'll drift without knowing it, we must create multiple opportunities for return throughout each day. Set reminders if needed. Use daily activities as cues. Let every doorway you pass through be an invitation to check: "Am I aware that I exist right now?"

Over time, these moments of recognition begin to extend. The gaps between forgetting grow shorter. Not because we're preventing the drift, that's impossible given the asymmetry, but because we're returning more frequently. Eventually, the recognition becomes less like visiting a distant place and more like noticing what was always here, waiting patiently for our return.