In 1945, Aldous Huxley, the British writer and philosopher who gave us Brave New World, published his classic, The Perennial Philosophy. He described it as an anthology, a collection of wisdom from the ages. It might be thought of as an essay on the single thread that weaves its way through mysticism.

I would start that thread as a belief in something greater than my body and its physical world. I would extend it by turning within to engage with that greater something. That, to me, is the core of the shared wisdom among mystics. They speak of an intimate, personal experience with their god, whatever that god may be to them.

I take from Huxley that mystics accept a presence in their lives that is beyond their knowledge, that their existence in the world reflects that presence, and that to know this presence intimately they must turn inward. Their inward journey results in a personal experience with the greater something. The greater something is often reflected in the world’s religions as a presence or force (many call it, God, in one form or another). It is the mystic who transcends the rituals and dogmas of religious faith to have an intimate relationship with the presence, and it is mysticism that reveals the perennial nature of the experience.

My experience with mystic teachings has revealed consciousness as a construct of the greater something. I find that consciousness is not a personalized god to know intimately as a mystic might, but that consciousness is an emptiness that is nowhere. It has no distinctions or comparisons. At best, consciousness can be described as intelligent and aware. As such, I see consciousness as the eternal field of infinite possibility. I call my relationship with consciousness: that which I AM, or twia. It is with twia that I have an intimate, personal relationship.

I define I AM as consciousness expressing existence, or consciousness-expressing. I AM the expressing of existence by consciousness. I know existence as the universe. I experience existence as the me of the body. In my mind, I am I AM, for there is no other than I AM. I know this from the room within. To go within is the perennial message of mysticism, including, but is not limited to, the teachings of the Upanishads, the Bhagavad Gita, Lao Tzu, Chuang Tzu, Lieh Tzu, Buddhism, the Kabbalah, Jesus, Adi Shankara, Rumi, Hasid, Plato, and Meister Eckhart. The message I hear from them is that to know my true nature I must sit in the still silence of the room within. It is in the silence that I touch the eternal and know I AM. From the room within, I know that I am the expressing that is existence. I am the dancing that is the dance.

To enter the room within is to remember my true nature. In the room within I withdraw beyond the world altogether. Entering this room is a personal journey. From within I contemplate the words of the mystic teachings. The perennial message that I have heard is given here in short sayings, using terms that I like for explaining what cannot be said. What I say here is for my ears. You may listen, too, if you wish. This is my take on the single thread of mysticism.

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There is a realm of truth beyond the world that is a mystery. It cannot be described. There are no words to say what it is. It is known through revelation from within.

Do not think about it too much. Let words be the signposts, not the destination. To cling to words is to be chained to the post. Cut the chains. Follow your true nature. Your true nature knows the way without words.

Your true nature lies inward. To journey inward, enter the room within. To enter the room within is to touch the eternal presence and power that is the greater something beyond the physical world.

The greater something cannot be named or described, but I call it, consciousness. There is only consciousness, the one presence and power. Consciousness is the emptiness that is nowhere, the eternal field of infinite possibility. There is none other than consciousness.

To know consciousness, I turn within. To turn within is to remember my true nature, which is consciousness-expressing, or I AM.

There is no other than I AM. I AM is consciousness expressing the thought of separation as existence. There is no separation in consciousness. Duality is false perception in existence. Existence is not real. It is illusion of separation.

I know existence as the universe. I experience existence as the me of the body, but I am not my body or its personality. I am that which I AM, or twia. Twia is whole, complete, perfect, eternal. The me of the body is limited and transitory.

Twia is awareness of existence in consciousness. Awareness is both continuous and discrete in consciousness, like water and its molecules. Twia is discrete awareness in the whole of awareness that is I AM.

To know my true nature, I enter the room within. To enter the room within is to remember twia. Twia is my true nature. I see twia in all. In you I see that which I AM.

Consciousness in existence is the whole of the all. The whole of the all is unity in separation. Twia is the whole of the all. There is no other than I AM.

My life is what I think it is. Thoughts kept in mind become beliefs, beliefs become my world. I can change my world by changing the thoughts that I hold in mind. Exchanging my thoughts will alter my beliefs and change my world. I am choosing twia over worldly desires. My world is changing from living in separation to experiencing the whole of the all. I choose to see in all that which I AM.

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That is the gist of my take on the lasting message found in mysticism. It is a message that threads its way through the teachings that have come down to us over the ages. It is the perennial philosophy as found in Huxley’s book. Like Huxley, and others, I absorb it by contemplating the words of mystics who taught others after finding their own way. I accept that there is something greater than what we experience as existence, and that to know this greater something personally and intimately, I must turn within. I believe that beyond my worldly existence there is an eternal reality that is my true nature, which I call twia. That which I AM, or twia, cannot be found in the outside world. I must enter the room within. My fulfillment in life comes from twia, not from the world. To know twia is to awaken to my reality as I AM. There is no other than I AM. That, I believe, is my truth. So be it.

I AM THAT WHICH I AM. I am twia. Twia has no definition. Twia has no meaning. Twia is I AM. There is no other than I AM. It cannot be compared. It is consciousness in existence, or the whole of the all without distinctions. It is your true nature, remembered in the room within. I AM is the mystic within who knows the way. To follow your true nature is to be the mystic that you are.

Mystics know their gods personally—no religion, no ritual, no intermediaries required. The divine is experienced directly rather than worshipped. What is the essence of this experience? Therein lies the rub, as they say. It varies as much as mystics do themselves. Mystics usually approach the mystery of existence through the path of their religion—and there are many paths—but not always. The mystic is immersed in the journey of finding their true nature in the god they seek. The mystery of this cannot be said. It can only be known inwardly.

Mysticism itself is not another religion, although mystics often have a home in an established belief. There are mystics in Judaism, Christianity, Islam, Buddhism, Taoism, Hinduism, etc. Mystics include Jesus, St. Francis, Rumi, Buddha, Lao Tzu, Shankara, and Dogen. But mostly, whether they are members of an established religion or not, mystics seek a personal bond with I AM. They come to remember their own true nature, which I call twia. I believe that to remember twia is to sit in the still silence of the room within. To be in this moment is to touch the eternal. Then you know that you are the energy that is I AM. You realize that you are consciousness expressing existence like a dancer expressing dance. I like to think that mystics know they are the dancing that is the dance.

Mysticism arises from inner consciousness, or awareness. Religion is a ritualistic relationship between a god and those who worship it. There is a gulf between the god and the worshipper that is bridged by sacred law and the morals and practices of its execution. Mystics recognize the divides between the various gods and their worshippers and seek to close the divide for themselves by personalizing their relationship with their god. Unity with their god becomes the mystic’s quest. Jesus, for example, broke the Sabbath of his native Judaism, which was a crime, and he called Yahweh, the terrifying god of his time, Abba. Abba, for Jesus, was a personal god, as dear to the heart as a loving papa, and Jesus did not need the Sabbath to know him as a loving son.

Traditionally, the mystic strives to crack the cosmic egg of their religion to bring new answers to old questions. They follow a path inward to know their god and who they are in relationship to that god. Yet, they seldom abandon their religion entirely, but rather become a force within its outward structure. They are a push behind believers having a personal relationship with the god of their faith. Direct revelation may occur between a god and a mystic. This may lead to personal cracks in the cosmic egg while their religion itself remains intact. The relationship with their god is no longer a dogmatic experience but a life experience of personal knowledge. The mystic follows a personal path of awareness to know their god within.

I am not a mystic, but I do have thoughts about the god within. For me, that god is consciousness. I like the term consciousness as a classic portrayal of existential mysteries, but not as a depiction of a traditional god. Consciousness is not a creator that I would worship or fear. Instead, it offers me a construct for explaining the origin, meaning, and purpose of my life. I find it to be a worthy representation of the eternal reality that lies beyond my transitory existence. I like to say that consciousness is the emptiness that is nowhere, the eternal field of infinite possibility. Consciousness is totality—inconceivable and unfathomable. It is a mystery hidden behind the limitations of the me of the body. It is disclosed in the room within—not in words, but by revelation. To receive, enter the room within. I AM will embrace you and you will know.

You know consciousness in silence. There are no words that can say. Words simply point the way to the door of the mystery, where your own true nature beckons you to enter. Listen to twia. Do not identify with the me of the body and its words. It is not you. The body-personality is a transitory projection of separation in consciousness. Do not become attached to it. You are the eternal reality that is I AM. Unbind your self-worth from the me of the body. Let it serve you in the world without attachment. Then you can witness your body-personality in the world while living wisely from within. Be the mystic that you are. Twia knows the way.

Mysticism transcends religion, without go-betweens, to touch the eternal aspects of the unknown personally and directly. Transcendence is universally authentic among mystics. Mystics from different religions and spiritual paths all come to know the one true nature. Mystics know that whatever your worldly background, that which you seek within is the same under any name, and you are that. The me of the body lives in a transitory world of desire and expectation, pleasure and pain, and happiness and sorrow. The mystic knows that this is not our reality. You are not the body, or its personality by whose name you are called. You are I AM. You can know this from within without words. The words can point the way, but they are not the destination. A teacher can guide you to the room within, but they cannot carry you across the threshold. You will enter on your own when ready, and without words. To enter is to be a mystic.

Mystics realize their essential unity with consciousness. The mystic’s life expresses I AM. As a mystic, you realize that the mysterious power behind existence is your own. You are personally in touch with eternal consciousness. The visible world loses its meaning as being real, and you find your reality beyond the body. You know as a mystic that the depth of your humanity is not in the me of the body. You find that your true capacity is in the uncreated, unending reality that is consciousness. Mystics realize that they are not their personality or body, but that they are I AM. It is in I AM that existence lies as consciousness expressing what cannot be real—which is the thought of there being anything other than consciousness itself. This thought of separation becomes illusion in consciousness. As a mystic, you witness the illusion as the dream that it is. Your attachment to existence is removed once you enter the room within. You no longer place your meaning in the world, and you are released from the cycle of birth and death that is separation.

Consciousness holds the thought of separation that is expressed as existence. Instead of reaching out to a divine principle through ritual, worship, and prayer, remember twia. When remembering twia, you will see, through the eyes of your true nature, the whole of the all that is consciousness in existence. No longer will you look at the world through the eyes of the me of the body and perceive only separation. Life, you will find, has no purpose or meaning of its own. You, as the me of the body, make it what it is, so do not try to make something out of nothing. As often implied, you are an actor, and all the world is a stage. On this stage, you play at separation with desire and expectation, pleasure and pain, and happiness and sorrow. Change the script. Enter the room within. Release the joy and peace that is your true nature. The world will turn in a new direction for you.

Mysticism is about there being no difference between you and the whole of the all. You are I AM. You are consciousness. You cannot be other. To consider other is to think of separation. Separation cannot be real. What you experience as other is existence. Existence is the manifestation of separation. You know existence as the world you in which you live as the me of the body. None of existence is real. You are not your body. You are not your personality. You are I AM—whole, complete, perfect, eternal. You do not know your true nature until you enter the room within. Until then pleasure and pain, happiness and sorrow seem all too real. Such perceptions are difficult, if not seemingly impossible, to deny.

The world you experience is not independent of you. In truth, it has no existence of its own. It reflects your desires, expectations, and attachments. Its meaning is yours. It has no meaning of its own. Mysticism looks past the meanings of life as seen by the me of the body. You, as a body, find meaning from cultural history and religious beliefs, which are expanded by personal experience. The mystic has eyes that see through culture, religion, and experience to the reality within. The mystic touches upon eternal consciousness. The mystic sees the misrepresentations of reality in existence. Knowing that existence is imbued in consciousness like unicorns in a child’s dream, the mystic is aware of the dream and awakens to reality. The more you know of the dream, the more you open your world to consciousness in existence. Then, as the dust of the world clears, you see with greater clarity. You step into the light of twia, and your perceptions of separation diminish as twia illuminates the whole of the all for you to see.

Release your attachment to the world. The me of the body is limited in scope. Give yourself over to twia. Mystics release themselves to the eternal. To touch the eternal, they enter the room within. They awaken to their true nature in the still silence of I AM. In ignorance and fear, the me of the body struggles to survive the cycles of birth and death as a soul thrust into manifestation by thoughts of separation in consciousness. Change your thoughts. Let the soul slip back into the unity from which it came. Until then, you are entangled in Marley’s chains.

Mysticism confronts the illusion of existence by opening the door to reality. The mystic remembers twia by walking the path that leads within. The cosmic process of the universe is transitory. Its ever-changing nature is not real. It is an illusion of reality. The mystic knows this. The mystic knows that our true nature lies in consciousness and not in the illusion of our existence. You are I AM. I AM is consciousness-expressing. The world of your existence as the me of the body is, in truth, your own expression. The mystic awakens to this reality by entering the still silence of the room within. The finite nature of the world brings fear and ignorance to the me of the body and it feels lost and alone as a soul in what seems to be an endless cycle of birth and death. The soul battles with fear to reduce its suffering. To break the cycles, end the battle. Do nothing. Enter the room within. Remember twia. Twia knows and mysticism points the way.

To point the way, mystics mostly use the spiritual language of their religion or spiritual community. Their mysticism flowers in their home garden. Jesus, for example, stepped out of the norm but remained a Jew. His mystic teachings reflected his views on Judaism. Although not their purpose, mystic teachings can seed new religion and ritual. The teachings of Jesus, for example, seeded Christianity as his followers struggled to find their way after his death. Struggles come because the me of the body does not feel fulfilled unto itself. There is a sense of lack and a need for communion with something greater. This is the way of the world. The way of the path is to remember that you are I AM. You are the one. There is no other. You will not find your way by kneeling before the altar or searching the heavens. Mystics such as Jesus say to turn within. Jesus broke the Sabbath of his faith in many ways, but he knew his true nature within. He called it the kingdom of God. He asked that you join him there. I think he would have been shocked that Christianity grew in his name instead. To me he was more about loving-kindness and seeing the whole of the all than he was about the power of empire as embedded in the early Church.

Mysticism is a loving relationship between you in separation and your true nature in reality. It is remembering that you are I AM and that you and your true nature are not separate. Religion too often sets you apart from your true nature. Philosophy might bring you closer. But it is mysticism that can reunite you as one. Mysticism is a system of thought that derives knowledge from within through revelation. The revelation is your own knowledge as twia. Twia knows. Twia guides you. To follow twia, transcend the world by entering the room within.

Mystics look within to contemplate the mystery of existence. The room within offers access to the unknown. Herein, mystics transcend the world and the me of the body to be embraced by their true nature. What cannot be known in words is revealed through revelation from I AM. You are I AM. There is no separation between you and I AM. Knowing this guides the mystic in life. The mystic lives in full awareness of I AM. I AM is consciousness in existence, or the whole of the all. You are the whole of the all. There is no other. As a mystic in the room within, revelation confronts you with your own reality, which is that which I AM.

I AM is consciousness-expressing. There is consciousness and nothing else. The appearance of separation in the world is a thought within consciousness that cannot be made real, much like a unicorn in a child’s imagination. The expressing of this thought in consciousness is I AM. You are I AM. You are consciousness-expressing. This is your true nature. As I AM, you are aware because I AM is awareness. You are discrete awareness in form. You cannot know this alone because it cannot be learned by effort. It is beyond knowing in body and is revealed by twia. Through revelation you remember twia as your true nature. Twia can cleanse the past and open your eyes to see through the dust of the world. From within, you find ears to hear the still, small voice of silence that is twia. With twia as your guide, you practice holding peace of heart always. You become loving-kindness without thought of desire or expectation. As loving-kindness, you express your awareness of I AM in the world—and the appearance of separation gives way to knowing the whole of the all.

The mystical experience arcs across the ages. It is universal in its realization. A perennial philosophy, as described by Aldous Huxley. For mystics, the search goes inward to gain a personal relationship with a deity or spiritual power. It becomes an experience of union, unity, and oneness of all. Mysticism transcends existence to liberate you from the me of the body. It reaches into the realm of the room within. Herein, the mystic overcomes perception and judgment. Mystics practice freeing themselves from the limitations of the body-personality to live in the world without desire and attachment. In mysticism, you know that you are not contained in the me of the body; that the body-personality is not you and that it cannot hold you in your entirety. You are greater than your perceptions of existence.

A most fearful perception in body is that of death as oblivion. To overcome this fear, many possibilities for what lies beyond the grave have been constructed. To live in fear is to contend with dying. The fear drives your existence, resulting in constructs of gods and after-death scenarios. Rituals, rites, and religions abound to ward off oblivion. Attachment to the body-personality is strong. Fear of its loss is the bane of humanity. Desires, expectations, and attachments feed your hopes for survival. These lead to pleasure and pain, happiness and sorrow. Suffering from perceived loss ensues while you try to transcend death by clinging to existence and its stories of salvation after death.

Personally, I believe that what I cling to has no meaning, except that which I give to it. There is no god that has created me. I am not a pot placed in the world by a potter. I am not blessed with grace from a divine being. My body is a random outcome of evolution governed by the laws of the universe. My personality is a projection of thought in consciousness governed by genetics, culture, and personal beliefs. My existence is simply a thought of separation in consciousness that cannot be made real because my reality is I AM—whole, complete, perfect, and eternal. My existence has no meaning because there are no distinctions for comparison in consciousness. To realize that the me of the body is a meaningless illusion of separation begins the great awakening for all who enter the room within. I have not yet chosen to enter and to live my life as twia, so I do not consider myself a mystic. But, as is true for everyone, I will enter when ready and be greeted by my inner mystic, which is I AM.

Mystics are among those who have entered the room within. In their varied practices, they share a few common tenets. Among these are a non-attachment to worldly ways and things. Desires, expectations, and attachments hang low, if not unseen, on their horizons. Mystics live in the moment, release the past, and let the future tend to itself. Prayer gives way to knowing. Hope is abandoned. Instead, mystics accept life in the moment with peace of heart always. They live simply, showing loving-kindness to all.  A practice of meditation, contemplation, and sitting silently in the room within governs their lives. Ultimately, they gain a personal relationship with their true nature, however they see it.

On June 18, 2004, a statue of the Hindu god Shiva, known in part as Lord of the Dance, was unveiled as a permanent exhibit outside of the main building of CERN, the European center for research in particle physics. The statue, which represents the cycles of creation, is a gift from India to honor its long association with CERN, whose member nations work at the forefront of exploring the origins and structure of the universe.

Learning about Shiva’s presence at CERN caused me to consider the complementary nature of metaphysics and physics. Along with wanting to know the makeup of the universe and the laws that govern it, we want to know who we are and why we are here. It struck me that Shiva is an ancient metaphysical answer to timeless existential questions and that CERN is a modern, scientific effort to unlock the mysteries of the universe, and that together they represent metaphysics and physics as entwined roots supporting the tree of existential knowledge. I like to think that our knowledge of who, where, and why we are is nourished by their entanglement.

Shiva’s station at CERN conveys to me a symbiotic relationship between myth and fact. Myths like Shiva’s are cultural stories bearing truths that help to explain the unknown. Facts, such as those derived at CERN, verify the governing laws of the cosmos. I see Shiva’s dance as symbolizing the universal existence that science seeks to interpret factually. Mutual interpretations of the mysteries by metaphysics and physics can be richer and deeper in meaning than either one of them can offer alone. Religion and philosophy, for example, examine the fundamental nature of our meaning and purpose, while physics studies the fundamental nature of matter and spacetime. I think of their interpretations as the yin and yang of existential knowledge. They are separate but complementary approaches to understanding life’s mysteries. Using them together helps me in rounding out the answers I find to explain existence.

In Hindu lore, Shiva is a religious symbol of the eternal cycles of time. Shiva, as Lord of the Dance, dances a cosmic dance which creates, preserves, and destroys simultaneously. The universe flows from Shiva’s rhythmic movement, forming and collapsing repeatedly in an endless cycle. Shiva is the energy of perpetual motion, always creating, always renewing. The statue embodies the timeless, rhythmic movement of existence—the ebb and flow of elements combining and recombining, flowing in and out of form. Shiva’s dance is the center of a venerable story of cosmic origin and the eternal rhythm of existence.

Shiva’s presence at CERN fascinates me because it directs my attention beyond the physics of the universe to the metaphysics of creation and its relationship to a creator. I find it nearly impossible to imagine that physics would add a creator to its equation of the universe, but the construct of a creator is paramount to metaphysics. Cultures have long fashioned gods to explain themselves as a people and to answer the myriad questions they have about their lives, their world, and their existence beyond death.

As civilization developed from scattered tribes to massive empires and now into modern states, a variety of gods emerged. For example, Abraham and his descendants conceived of El, Yahweh, and Allah. Greek gods, from Artimis to Zeus, held sway for centuries as did their Roman counterparts. Hindus look to the Trimurti of Brahma, Vishnu, and Shiva. The Christian trinity is God the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Jesus spoke of the Father. Allah still rings true for Muslims, as does Yahweh for Jews. Gods and the stories surrounding them can help to explain the mysteries of existence and bring meaning and reassurance in the absence of facts.

Scientific thinking has grown with the advancement of civilization as well, bringing about invention, theory, and fact. Science pushes into the mysterious unknown—which often is explained by religion, philosophy, and art—with facts that replace old answers with new. As myth gives way to fact, the expanding knowledge cracks open any current construct of a creator to bring about a change in the supernatural explanations of the unknown. For example, stories about gods such as Shiva, as Lord of the Dance, become mythology as outdated religious beliefs about the creation of the universe crumble in the face of expanding scientific knowledge. The growing number of facts about the universe pushes the boundaries of supernatural belief until a given view of a creator can no longer abide in a changed world. Then a shift in faith occurs, revising old-world dogmas with updated ideologies to explain the unknown.

Galileo Galilei upended an old-world dogma four hundred years ago. He was an Italian astronomer who crafted one of the first telescopes powerful enough to see the heavens. His revelations shifted Earth from its lofty center of all God’s creation to a minor position in a small solar system tucked among the stars. Galileo confirmed that Earth circles the sun instead of the sun circling Earth. This cosmic shift in existential certainty within the Christian faith was brought before the Inquisition as a grave threat to Catholic doctrine, the authority at the time. After surviving his trial by ceding ground, Galileo lived out his life in a villa in the hills above Florence knowing that he had cracked the cosmic egg, even if it were heresy to say so. There was no turning back.

There seems to be a shift in faith occurring now among Americans. Religious affiliations are shrinking in numbers. More and more people are claiming to be spiritual and not religious, and the fastest growing religious affiliation is none. Some past adherents are looking outside of religion for their own answers to existential questions, and I am one of them. The god in which I once believed moved from the heavens of Genesis into unity with my inner Self and then out the door. Reading about Buddhism, Taoism, and Hinduism, along with New Thought Christianity, the mystic Judaism of Kabbalah, and quantum mechanics, gave me insight into other possibilities than that of the traditional Judeo-Christian god in whom I was raised to believe. I must say, however, that even though my mother made sure that her family went to church every Sunday in the tradition of white America in the 1950s, she is the one who got me thinking about other options as well. In my early 20s, for example, she introduced me to the progressive Unity Church of Christianity and later to the Kabbalah’s Jewish mysticism. This, along with the study of psychology in my graduate work, opened new paths to understanding the human condition and the world in which we live. My most recent encounter with changes in religious thinking has come from reading about modern studies of Bible authorship and the works of scholars, such as those affiliated with the Westar Institute, who study Jesus as a historical figure.

All in all, I find it hard to ignore that beliefs once held as religious or philosophical truths sometimes shift as factual knowledge grows. Quantum mechanics, for example, has expanded our knowledge of space, time, and matter way past any creation stories like Shiva’s or those found in Genesis. Old truths about gods in their heavenly realms become mythos under the weight of data such as that from the Hubble and Webb telescopes which are bringing the outer reaches of the universe into closer view. Sensing that old stories and dogmas do not stand up to scientific progress, I am looking for newer metaphysical answers to the mystery of existence. I am certain that I am not alone in my quest.

As facts are gathered about the origin and structure of the universe, the existential mystery moves deeper into the woods. Shades of night draw about it. Cultures have long adopted and worshiped gods to help them bring light to the darkness. The construct of a creator brings comfort in knowing that something greater than humanity brought us into being, that we exist for a reason, and that we are protected and provided for, both now and in an afterlife. We want to know that there is meaning and purpose beyond the body, and we want to know how to attain the eternal. But it appears to me that science rarely, if ever, answers these questions surrounding the meaning of life that the construct of a creator provides.

My views of God changed as I grew older and more aware of how gods have been conceived in various cultures over time. I first viewed God as a male form separate from his creations abiding in a heaven above the stars. This was the god of Genesis that I knew as a child in Presbyterian Sunday School. I liken this god to a potter who places his clay formations in a world that he has built to hold them. Later in life, I found a creator in the teachings of New Thought Christianity that was more of a source, much like a sugar-maple tree is a source for sweet syrup. This god was within me, and we shared a common essence. But it seems to me, that once created, both the pot on the shelf and the syrup in the jug are separate from their creator. Even though there may be some shared essence, they exist separately and are not the same. In both instances these views of God did not hold up for me.

As I grew to middle age, my view of God shifted as I delved deeper into New Thought and into other religions of the world. I began to realize that the creation does not have to be regarded as separate from its creator but could be an extension of it. As an extension, the creation cannot exist apart from its source, but the source does not need the creation for its existence. An analogy is the ocean wave. The wave is not separate from the ocean, but the ocean does not need the wave to be the ocean. The ocean and the wave exist in union without separation, but the wave is dependent on the ocean while the ocean is independent of the wave. This view of being in oneness with God served me for many years.

I felt comfortable with the idea that God and I are one, but I had a nagging question. What did that really mean? What would it look like if God and I were truly one? While I wondered, I spent several years studying A Course in Miracles. It helped me to change my perceptions about oneness with God. I came to realize that even though there is no separation between a wave and the ocean, the unity of the ocean and the wave is not the singular unity that is oneness. Oneness, I thought, must be a seamless connection between creator and creation to the extent that there is neither creator nor creation. True oneness would be the single essence of being without separation or any dependent relationship.

Shiva’s dancing offers me a metaphor for true oneness. Shiva in motion is the universe going in and out of existence. Shiva’s rhythmic movement cannot separate from Shiva. Shiva is the dancing. The dancing is Shiva in motion. Shiva and dancing are inseparable in expressing the thought of dance. Shiva’s dancing expresses the universe. Shiva not dancing is potential, or the possibility of the universe, such as the moment before the Big Bang—so to speak. The universe’s existence is Shiva dancing. Shiva’s dancing—all dancing—represents for me the single essence of being that is truly oneness.

Shiva as Lord of the Dance is an ancient construct in Hinduism. Shiva as a deity is part of the Hindu Trimurti of Brahma, Vishnu, and Shiva, or the Supreme Consciousness. Consciousness such as this underlies all of existence and is all pervading. I prefer using consciousness to Shiva as a name for the single essence of being. This construct of consciousness not only has roots in Hinduism, but also in Taoism. The Tao is also all pervasive and absolute. I have spent countless hours in contemplation with the Tao Te Ching and this, too, has led to my preference of using consciousness instead of Shiva when describing my existential views. Consciousness is totality in and of itself, while Shiva is only one form of the whole.

I regard consciousness as an emptiness that is nowhere, an eternal field of infinite possibility that is intelligent and aware. I like the term consciousness for its classic portrayal of existential mysteries that lie beyond scientific knowledge. Consciousness has become my so-called dancer of the universe. It offers me a construct for explaining how I view the meaning and purpose of life. It offers me a representation of the reality beyond existence, and it shines a brighter light into the darkness than God as a potter, source, or extender ever did.

Consciousness, by definition, is aware, and I would add intelligent. Thus, I assume that consciousness expresses thought. In fact, I think that expressing thought is the nature of consciousness, like dancing is the nature of Shiva as Lord of the Dance. Without dancing there would be no dancer. Likewise, without expressing, there would be no consciousness—only potential, or the emptiness that is nowhere. If this emptiness is conscious, then it would likely express potential as thought, and these thoughts would manifest into expressions much like Shiva’s dancing expresses the universe. This manifesting by consciousness is what I call consciousness-expressing. Consciousness-expressing manifests existence, which we know as the universe.

Expressing thought must be the nature of consciousness, otherwise consciousness is null, like dancer not dancing is not-dancer. Consciousness must express. There cannot be not-consciousness. If consciousness did not express, there would be no manifestation. There would be nothingness, the void beyond the emptiness that is nowhere. It is incomprehensible to me that there could be such a void. There would be no thought or awareness. Just knowing this nullifies the idea that there could not be consciousness expressing thought.

As well as expressing thought, consciousness is whole, complete, and perfect in nature. There is nothing to add to consciousness. It cannot be parceled into parts and pieces. Nothing can be subtracted. It is totality. There is no other. After my study of A Course in Miracles, I accepted the idea that thoughts of separation do arise in consciousness, but they cannot be made real. The thought of separation in consciousness is like a unicorn in a child’s mind. Consciousness imagines separation but cannot realize it outside of itself. It makes room for separation in its own nature like the child makes room for the unicorn. Thus, it appears that separation exists as an illusion, for want of a better word, for in the totality that is consciousness there is no separation that is real.

Now in my elder years, I accept consciousness as the ultimate reality. To me there is nothing other than consciousness. I find that separation is a state of mind. It has no reality of its own. There cannot be consciousness and something else. There cannot be parts and pieces of consciousness. Separation as I know it is the world in which I live. This world is consciousness expressing separation as existence. Like the dancer dancing the dance, consciousness manifesting existence is oneness. There is no separation between the dance and the dancer and there is no separation between existence and consciousness. Existence and consciousness comprise a single essence of being like the dancer dancing the dance.

It was once thought that the universe manifested from Shiva as Lord of the Dance. The statue of Shiva dancing at the doors of CERN is frozen in movement but expressing dance, nonetheless. Shiva is dancing the universe into existence as a long-standing answer to the mystery of creation while inside the doors of CERN, up-to-date, factual answers are being found in the shattered remains of atomic particles. For me, consciousness offers a more acceptable metaphysical answer than Shiva, or any other god, to go alongside those shattered remains. Consciousness, for me, is a state of potential in which all things lie. It is an emptiness that is nowhere, an emptiness in which thought is poised to manifest. Consciousness is not an entity to grasp. It is eternal and unchanging reality. It has no distinctions and cannot be described. Consciousness does not create. It is not a source. It does not extend. It is inseparable and eternally the same. There is no other than this eternal field of infinite possibility that is intelligent and aware. It is totality.