A passage from Plotinus reminded me of another passage from Brothers Karamazov:
The painter Kramskoy has a remarkable painting entitled The Contemplator: it depicts a forest in winter, and in the forest, standing all by himself on the road, in deepest solitude, a stray little peasant in a ragged caftan and bast shoes; he stands as if he were lost in thought, but he is not thinking, he is “contemplating” something. If you nudged him, he would give a start and look at you as if he had just woken up, but without understanding anything. It’s true that he would come to himself at once, and yet, if he were asked what he had been thinking about while standing there, he would most likely not remember, but would most likely keep hidden away in himself the impression he had been under while contemplating. These impressions are dear to him, and he is most likely storing them up imperceptibly and even without realizing it — why and what for, he does not know either; perhaps suddenly, having stored up his impressions over many years, he will drop everything and wander off to Jerusalem to save his soul, or perhaps he will suddenly burn down his native village, or perhaps he will do both.
There are a good many “contemplatives” among our peasants. And Smerdyakov was probably one of them. And he was probably greedily hoarding up his impressions, hardly knowing why.
From Plotinus, who might very well have inspired the above passage:
If [nature] were asked why she creates, she would reply — if, that is, she were willing to listen to the questioner and to speak — “You should not have questioned me, but understood in silence, just as I myself keep silent, for I am not accustomed to talk. What is there to understand? That what comes into being is the object of my silent contemplation, and that the product of my contemplation comes into being in a natural way. I myself was born of such contemplation; this is why I have a natural love for contemplation. My contemplation engenders the product of my contemplation, just as geometers draw figures by contemplating. I, however, do not draw anything, but I contemplate, and the lines of bodies come into existence, as if they were issuing forth from me.”
(This is an English translation of Hadot’s French translation.)
Etymonline’s entry on contemplation:
contemplation(n.) —
c. 1200, contemplacioun, “religious musing,” from Old French contemplation and directly from Latin contemplationem (nominative contemplatio) “act of looking at,” noun of action from past-participle stem of contemplari “to gaze attentively, observe; consider, contemplate,” originally “to mark out a space for observation” (as an augur does), from assimilated form of com-, here perhaps an intensive prefix (see com-), + templum “area for the taking of auguries” (see temple (n.1)).
It is attested from late 14c. as “reflection, thinking, thought, act of holding an idea continuously before the mind.” The meaning “act of looking attentively at anything” is from late 15c.
In cogitation the thought or attention flits aimlessly about the subject.
In meditation it circles round it, that is, it views it systematically, from all sides, gaining perspective.
In contemplation it radiates from a centre, that is, as light from the sun it reaches out in an infinite number of ways to things that are related to or dependent on it. [Ezra Pound, 1909, recalling in his own words ideas from Richard of St. Victor, 12c., “De praeparatione animi ad contemplationem“]
Perhaps to con-temple something is precisely to refrain from com-prehending it.
The last passage in Daniel Matt’s Essential Kabbalah is taken from the Sefer Bahir
Whoever delves into mysticism cannot help but stumble, as it is written: “This stumbling block is in your hand.” You cannot grasp these things unless you stumble over them.
This recalled a passage from Aryeh Kaplan’s Inner Space:
The Kabbalists teach that this is the concept of God’s most sacred name, theTetragrammaton, YHVH. The Tetragrammaton consists of four letters Yod, Heh, Vav and Heh. These four letters have a very special significance.
The Tetragrammaton is related to the past, present, and future tense of the Hebrew word “to be.” In Hebrew, “was” is Hayah, “is” is Hoveh and “will be” is Yihyeh. Therefore, when one reads the Tetragrammaton, one should have in mind that God “was, is and will be” all at the same instant.’ This indicates that God is utterly transcendental, and higher than the dimension of time. God exists in a realm where time does not exist. At the same time, the Tetragram
At the same time, the Tetragrammaton denotes that God is Mehaveh, “the One who brings all existence into being. It is in this sense that the Tetragrammaton refers to God’s causal relationship with His creation. He is the source of all being and existence and His essence permeates creation.
We can understand this on the basis of an ancient Kabbalistic teaching which states that the four letters of the Name contain the mystery of Charity. According to this teaching, the first letter Yod can be likened to a coin. The letter Yod is small and simple like a coin.
The second letter, Heh, represents the hand that gives the coin. Every letter in the Hebrew alphabet also represents a number. Since Heh is the fifth letter of the alphabet, it has a numerical value of five. The “five” of Heh alludes to the five fingers of the hand.
The third letter, Vav (t), which has the form of an arm, denotes reaching out and giving. Furthermore, in Hebrew, the word Vav means a “hook,” and thus Vav has the connotation of connection. Indeed, in Hebrew, the word for the conjunction “and” is represented by the letter Vav prefixed to a word.
Finally, the fourth letter, the final Heh (n), is the hand of the beggar who receives the coin.
And every mention of the together-grasping comprehending mind always recalls Kosho Uchiyama’s beautifully titled Opening the Hand of Thought:
I use the expression “opening the hand of thought” to explain as graphically as possible the connection between human beings and the process of thinking. I am using “thinking” in a broad sense, including emotions, preferences, and all sense perceptions, as well as conceptual thoughts. Thinking means to be grasping or holding on to something with our brain’s conceptual “fist.” But if we open this fist, if we don’t conceive the thought, what is in our mental hand falls away. Our universal self, jiko, also includes that which lets go. Sleeping at night is a natural expression of your life with the hand of your thinking mind wide open. Nodding off while you are awake is something else entirely, from the perspective of the self. While you are awake, opening the hand of thought isn’t dozing or thinking, it is the fine line between them where you really are right now.
The self of Western psychology is the Cartesian “I think, therefore I am.” But actually, we are, whether we think so or not, and behind the conscious self your life continues even when you are unconscious or unaware. And precisely because of that we are alive with a life that includes our thinking self. In fact, it is because we have this actual ongoing life that the thought can occur that we are only our thoughts. So our true or whole self is not just an abstract self made of thoughts. Our whole self is the force or quality of life that enables conscious thought to arise, and it includes that personal, conscious self, but it also includes the force that functions beyond any conscious thought.
The whole or universal self is the force that functions to make the heart continue beating and the lungs continue breathing, and it is also the source of what is referred to as the subconscious.
This inclusive self is at heart the creative power of life. It is related to what the Judeo-Christian tradition calls the creative power of God.
That power — what is immediately alive and also what is created — that is self too. If you want to use God as your referent, it is crucial to receive God as pure creative power, as being fresh and alive and working in and through yourself: no matter what I do or think, God is in all things and is working through me.
Whatever is alive — that is jiko, or universal self. All of this — thoughts and feelings, the and desires, the subconscious and the beating heart, the effort that enables other lives to function and the creative power of life itself — is what I mean by the “self.” Saying “whole” or “true” or “universal” self is a way to try to include all the actual reality of life, and what I am saying here is that the actual reality of life is not something separate from the actual reality of your own life.
