an essay in the series reflections
(translation from German assisted by DeepL)

December 29, 2022

With all my understanding, with all my reason, I only get as far as a certain area. There ends science, ends the certainty that comes from the consensus of many knowledgeable ones.

Beyond the common knowledge, I am increasingly on my own. Here I can increasingly rely only on my machine of perception, critical interpretation, and eventual understanding. On a machine that I have created and formed in the still safe realm, a machine that goes beyond my knowledge and understanding, that encompasses my entire being.

Creating, forming, and ever further cultivating this being is the necessary preparation for the path beyond the ordinary. This ever refining and ever more encompassing being that finally steps out of the world of knowledge, of understanding, of reason, and unfolds ever deeper into the cloud of unknowing.

Twilight, the vast area between objective certainty and uncertainty, even danger of my subjective world, the transition from seeing to not seeing, from knowing to not knowing. The area where my ordinary eyes become increasingly helpless, my ordinary knowledge shrinks to a smaller and smaller speck. Shadows and lights gain importance here. On the one hand, out of themselves, because they have a cause, one that I do not see clearly, but which can be important to me. But they also gain meaning out of me, out of my memories, my fears, my experiences, even my beliefs, convictions and projections. All these facets are there, deep within me, and I am usually hardly aware of them.

Here, in assessing the causes of the recognized shadows and lights, my finely and widely developed being helps. Here, where “dark is evil and danger” and “light is good and salvation” are meaningless phrases.

Twilight and its meaning, its danger and at the same time wondrous beauty, I experience them easily in the physical world. When, after the sun has set, I have to find the narrow and winding path between bushes and trees during a walk in the uneven terrain of the mountain forest. A path where the next step is sometimes in the shadows, while the pale glow of the stars on an incline makes it seem to me. And some shadows move: is it one of my cats, or the fox, or a disturbance of my perception at the edge of seeing?

Twilight is also in the spiritual world. Shadows and lights here come from the words, images, songs, and dances of those who were here before me, who may also be with me. Those whose being was finer, could look further, who perhaps also ventured further, who sometimes were also terribly mistaken, lost their orientation beyond the ordinary. Those who tried to grasp what they saw, to bring it into a form for others, which those in turn could grasp.

Whether what they have seen is true or not, whether I can decipher the transmitted form or not, they do not know, I do not know. Inspirations on the way through the twilight into the cloud of unknowing before the impenetrable darkness of the unformed, the non-being. Shadows and lights that show doors and paths, some for me, some for you, some temptations, even abyss. On the way in the uncertain, thereby developing ever more finely the ability to see anew in the dark, to shape the way, to see the wonderful, to create.