Mystery, Paradox, and Polar Opposites
I first fell in love with the mystics as an undergraduate when a friend gave me Thomas Merton’s New Seeds of Contemplation. Merton introduced me to the essential place of mystery in any engagement with the Transcendent One. He also introduced me to the Medieval mystical teacher and preacher, Meister Eckhart. It was from Eckhart that I learned that ultimate reality can only be known as mystery and held within the tension of polar opposites and paradox — something that profoundly changed my way of thinking about and relating to God.
I have been pondering the meaning and significance of these things for more than 50 years. I say pondering, rather than thinking about, because mystery, by its very nature, is ineffable. It involves a realm of existence that is beyond words, beyond understanding. But it can be pondered, and pondering offers its own form of knowing — not knowing about, but knowing of.
In my early engagement with Merton and Eckhart I developed a practice that I still continue most nights. It involves reading a sentence or two of one of mystics before falling asleep and then allowing myself to soak for a few minutes in the realities their words awaken within me. Some nights all I read is one of Meister Eckhart’s paradoxical statements about God. Several nights this past week I pondered once again the following words: “God is everywhere, but nowhere; everything but nothing.”
Eckart resorted to paradoxical language like this because he was convinced that, at its best, anything we affirm about Ultimate Reality distorts as much as it reveals. He urges us, therefore, to be cautious about notions of truth that are not balanced by the ambiguity of paradox or that avoid the tension of polar opposites by sliding into “either-or” rather than “both-and” thinking.
The Seduction of “Either-Or” Thinking
During the lockdown of COVID-19 I had more time to ponder these things — particularly the human tendency to avoid the tension of opposites by defaulting into “either-or” thinking. Think of how quickly most of us tend to dismiss the tension of polar opposites such as good-evil, life-death, love-hate, or truth-untruth by judging one as good or right and the other as bad or wrong. We do this even when we know that the world is much more complex than any two categories could ever contain.
Holding the tension of these polarities can be extremely difficult. However, if we are able to suspend our knee-jerk judgments and stand in the space between these and other apparent opposites we begin to see the complexity of all reality. We also begin to see a hidden wisdom that emerges from the space between these apparent polarities.
Binary classifications and either-or thinking give us a sense of certainty and security in the face of the shades of grey that dominate the canvas of life. However, the maps of reality that arise from binary thinking massively simplify and distort what truly is.
Think, for example, of the polarity of good-bad, and the ease with which we label experiences as one or the other. Think of how often experiences we would never have chosen bring gifts more precious than we could ever have imagined and things we initially viewed as gifts that turned out to be more like curses than blessings.
The sixth-century BC Chinese philosopher, Lao Tzu, offers a fable that illustrates how faulty our judgement can be when we label events that arise in our life as either good or bad. It is a story of a farmer whose horse ran away. That evening his neighbour came to visit him, telling him how sorry he was to hear about this unfortunate event. The farmer said, “Maybe.” The next day the horse came back, bringing seven wild horses with it, and his neighbour returned, telling him how lucky he was to now have eight horses. Again, the farmer said, “Maybe.” The next day, the farmer’s son tried to ride one of the horses and was thrown off it, breaking his leg. The neighbour returned and again expressed his regret at this bad luck. And again the farmer responded, “Maybe.” The following day, officials came around to conscript people into the army, and they rejected his son because he had a broken leg. Once again his neighbour exclaimed, “Isn’t that great!” And once again, the farmer simply said, “Maybe.”
It feels natural to judge events in our life as good or bad and to orient ourselves around these superficial judgments by doing everything possible to avoid anything bad. Humans desperately want a one-sided reality. But what comes to us through the filter of that desire isn’t reality.
Only in fantasy and illusion is reality unipolar. Our avoidance of reality reflects our illusion that we can control our lives and are capable of creating something that will be preferable to what might naturally unfold. But this fantasy merely distances us from a firm embrace of reality.
This AND That
Another Chinese philosopher, Chuang-tzu, tells us that all things have both a “this” and a “that.” Looking at them from only a single perspective hides their complexity. Only by knowing things as they really are can we understand them.
But looking at polar opposites from a “both-and” perspective rather than “either-or” is easier said than done. I spent the second year of the COVID-19 pandemic working on this and the results were both humbling and deeply rewarding. It was humbling to realize that I am not simply defined by one side of any polarity. When I was able to be honest it became clear that both poles of all polarities were part of my experience.
I am capable of love, but I am also capable of hate. Both truth and untruth, good and evil, wisdom and foolishness have a place in me. And the interesting thing is that when I was able to be honest, I not only saw myself more accurately but I was also able to see others more clearly. Practising suspension of judgement and being more hospitable to my own realities flowed into more empathic and generous ways of seeing both others and myself.
This process led to my most recent book — “This AND That: Pondering Polarities as a Doorway to Hidden Wisdom.” In this book I make no attempt to eliminate the tension between the big polarities of life. Nor do I attempt to synthesize, harmonize or solve them. Instead, I share my pondering of them as a way to encourage the reader to do the same thing. Doing so has the potential to change how you see and how you know. Think of it as training in the cultivation of nondual consciousness.
Nondual Consciousness
Nonduality is seeing through eyes that recognize that "this" and “that” belong together. It is recognizing that there can be no absolute without relative, and that what appears as two and separate is in reality one. It is recognizing that every “this” is part of a larger whole.
Reality is not totally one, but neither is it totally two. Nonduality involves holding the tension of “both-and.” It involves reading reality in a way that is neither judgmental or exclusionary. It means staying open to what is and letting it speak for itself.
Nondual consciousness offers us a larger perspective, and this, in turn, allows us to access the hidden wisdom that does not lie in either the affirmation or the denial of polarities but in the tension between them. Learning to hold the tension of opposites in our lives (and in others) involves living without judgements about whether circumstances and people are either good or bad. Learning to hold the tension of opposites is learning to access and live in the light of the mind or consciousness of Christ.
Acquiring the mind of Christ is learning to see all things through the eyes of God. It is loving everything and everyone with the heart of God. It is seeing God in everyone and everything — good and evil, health and illness, wholeness and brokenness, wisdom and foolishness, rightdoing and wrongdoing.
This is what we see in Jesus. In the words of James Finley:
It didn’t seem to matter whether Jesus saw the joy of those gathered at a wedding or the sorrow of those gathered at the funeral of a loved one. It didn’t matter whether he saw his own mother or a prostitute. It didn’t matter whether he saw a person of great wealth and power or a poor widow dropping her last coin in the box. It didn’t really matter whether he saw his own disciples or his executioners. It didn’t matter whether he saw a flower or a bird. Jesus saw God in all that he saw. And Jesus says to each of us ‘You have eyes to see but you do not see.’1
Nondual consciousness involves shifting from the dualistic mind which judges and condemns into the consciousness of Divine Love. It’s growing beyond the limitations of our ordinary way of seeing through filters of discrimination, distinction, and judgement. It does not erase distinctions. It is simply seeing what truly is without the need to differentiate.
Nondual consciousness is more than just the ability to hold the tension of paradox or polar opposites. It’s not what we see, but how we see. It is what makes it possible for us to love our enemies and neighbours as ourselves, and to see God in everyone and everything.
1. James Finley, The Living Wisdom of Meister Eckhart, https://www.soundstrue.com/store/meister-eckhart-s-living-wisdom-5959.html.
2023 © Dr. David G. Benner