Looking But Not Seeing

If we look at a tree and see a tree, we have seen nothing. But if we look at a tree and see a miracle of God, then we have seen everything.

If we look at a dog and see a dog, we have seen nothing. But if we look at a dog and see a living being like us, a soul trapped in a dog body and trying to communicate, we are seeing something which is truer and deeper.

If we look at people and see people, we have seen nothing. But if we look at them through their parents’ eyes, we may see them as children who, no matter what their age and never mind their flaws, are trying to tackle life’s challenges with whatever abilities they have. If we look at people that way, we may begin to see more than what meets the eye.

If we look at our lunch and see food, we have seen nothing. But if we look at the food and see within it effort and skill (of the cook), enormous work (of farm workers, transporters, marketers) and nature’s support (sun, water, fertilizers), we are seeing a deeper reality and are able to eat with gratitude and responsibility.

If we look at Covid vaccine and see the vaccine, we have seen nothing. If all we are concerned about is how it will affect us, we have felt nothing. But if we look at the vaccine with grateful eyes and see in it the tireless effort and the amazing skill of thousands of scientists racing against time to save millions of lives, we may see and feel a whole lot more than is apparent.

Examples can easily be multiplied, but the point is clear. What we see when we look depends on how deeply we look. Most of the time we merely see the surface and conclude that that’s the whole story. It almost always isn’t. Everything and everyone is wrapped in layers (kośa). It is possible to go through the entire life merely dealing with layers and not with what’s within them, the real stuff.

If we saw the real stuff, our only response would be joy, love and gratitude. All other kinds of responses are triggered by the layers, the coverings that hide the inner reality. Where do these layers come from? How do they foist themselves on everyone and everything?

The process by which reality gets hidden under layers is called superimposition (adhyāsa). The hiding of what is real is bad enough, but what is worse is not knowing that the real is hidden. As a result the layers don’t appear as “layers,” but are mistaken for the real. It’s like mistaking a gift wrap for the gift. All misconceptions and wrong judgments of people and things result from this.

The worst is yet to come. The layers cover not only people and things, they cover even me, which is preposterous but sadly true. The real me is buried under layers—and it is these layers—the body, the mind, the ego—that pretend to be me. What this means, in effect, is that not only do I not see others as they truly are but I also I don’t see myself as I truly am. 

Seeing others and seeing myself are related. What I see outside depends on what I see inside. I don’t see others as they truly are because I don’t see myself as I truly am. Before I am able to see others clearly, I must be able to see my own self clearly.

We are already familiar with the classic rope/snake example in Vedanta. A coiled rope in a semi-dark room is mistaken for a snake. There is just enough light to know that something is present, but not enough light to know what that something is. This is the perfect environment to mistake a rope for a snake. The reality of the rope is hidden and its place is taken by a snake. The rope seems to vanish and the snake appears where the rope was.

Usually when this example is cited, an observer is said to enter the room, see the “snake” and is terrified. Then the light is switched on and the observer sees rope where the “snake” was. This illustrates how superimposition takes place, but because we are dealing with objects (rope, snake), we tend to apply this example to our perception of the world. Which is a mistake, because the example is meant to teach us something about the self, not about the world.

Let me try getting inside the rope. Maybe I am asked to play the role of a rope in a Disney movie! I am the rope now and I am in the dark. The darkness this time is inside me, the darkness of ignorance. My rope-nature is hidden. It’s not totally dark though. There is enough light of knowledge for me to know that I am someone, but not enough to know more than that.

What makes the situation truly awful is that I don’t know that I don’t know. I feel that I already know who I am. The snake-layer is now masquerading as me. The reality of my existence is appropriated by the snake-layer and claimed as its own. That is what makes me think of myself as a snake. When there is finally the light of knowledge, the snake-layer disappears and the hidden rope-self becomes visible. I no longer see myself as snake. I know, once again, that I am the rope.

Nothing really has changed. I was always the rope. The mysterious darkness that seemed to cover me hid my true identity (“the rope”) and projected a false identity (“the snake”) in its place. But now the darkness disappears as mysteriously as it had appeared, taking away the false identity and filling me with the light of Truth, free once again to be my true self.

The darkness reigns as long as I look superficially at myself and refuse to probe deeper into my identity. When I begin to look deeply, though, I start seeing what I had not seen before. That is when the transition from darkness to light begins. My self-identity begins to change. The change often occurs (in the words of Ramakrishna) from the unripe-I to the ripe-I. The process ends with the ripe-I merging into the true-I, the real me.

As I inch toward my true identity, things begin to change dramatically. As my perception of myself evolves, the world I perceive also evolves. The more I change, the more does the world change for me. The more I see the divine in my heart, the more the divine in everyone and everything begins to shine for me. The key to changing the world is to change myself. All attempts to reform the situation around me without reforming myself will, at best, be temporary and, at worst, fail totally.

How vital it is, then, to not be superficial in our thoughts, words and actions! It is not enough to simply look at something or someone and be satisfied with what we see. We must look deeply, we must think deeply, we must care deeply. Only then will I begin to see myself as I truly am, everyone as they truly are, and everything as it truly is. I will be true and what I see will also be true. Truth seeing Truth, if that makes sense.

None of us wants our life to be reduced to wandering in darkness aimlessly, stumbling constantly, mumbling foolishly, doing mostly meaningless chores and, when left alone, getting bored to death until, when the time comes, being swallowed by death into deeper depths of darkness—aargh!