the observer is the observed, but are we really seeing what we are?
Vic Shayne
author
13 Pillars of Enlightenment: How to realize your true nature and end suffering
There is a curious postulate forwarded by Jiddu Krishnamurti who had said that once you actually see that the observer is the observed then “you’ve got it.” The “it” in this case is a realization of how things really are instead of how we believe them to be. Have you ever considered what it means for the observer to be the observed, as well as the implications of this idea?
we aren’t trained to see things as they actually are
We are taught to look at our world with judging, assessing, criticizing, idealistic, skeptical, imaginative, and fearful or hopeful eyes — not physical eyes, but the metaphorical eyes of perception or thought. We look at other people and size them up or we look at something natural such as a tree and automatically think of its parts — leaves, branches, bark, and so on.
We have been trained to observe everything in this way. Instead of taking in the whole of our world we fragment everything and reduce every object, person, and event to mental talking points. While this sort of piece-by-piece thinking is helpful for driving, learning a language, or putting together a book shelf, it is stifling when we apply it to what we are and when we are trying to figure out why our suffering exists.
the seeker seeks herself
In the strange world of spirituality, people have said countless times that they are searching for what they truly are. They have proffered an idea that is impossible to actualize. They refer to themselves as spiritual seekers, but they would save all their time, energy, effort, and mentation by just immediately realizing that the seeker is the sought. It’s right there in front of them, yet they go on searching. Seeking is a movement, an action, yet the core of what we are is right here as what we really are, ever-present and outside of time and motion. If you are searching for your self then obviously the seeker is that which is sought. And so the observer is also the observed, the thinker is the thought, and the dreamer is the dreamed.
a manifold explanation
We can look at the observer-observed dynamic in several ways. It is true atomically, because all of reality is made of atoms, and in this respect we are all physically made of the same basic dynamic, complex, fundamental parts. Or we can consider that when we break anything and everything down to its most fundamental state, all we are left with is space; and we are all this same space. And we can say that there is only one singular movement of existence, which is consciousness, and we are all consciousness. We can also consider that each one of us is the wide-open capacity for the entire reality that is within this capacity — each of us contains the world and one another. My wife likes to use the analogy that we are all like individual cameras seeing the goings-on of life, and each camera is hooked up to a single broadcasting or recording device.
the fragmented ‘me’ can’t observe the totality
When the observer is acting as the sense of self, the “me,” it is a fragment of its own totality. It has removed itself from the totality and poses as an independent observer of itself, its actions, its feelings, its emotions, and so on. Further, the “me” has also separated itself from its own contents of emotions, moods, proclivities, thoughts, and so on.we tend to think of such things as happening to us or in our heads, but we are not generally aware that this is what we are made of, for without such characteristics the sense of self does not exist.
the self is the center of its own reality
How is it that we have fragmented ourselves? It’s simple: Since the earliest age we have developed a sense of self that acts as a center of its own universe. It has been given a name, a sense of a “me, and a nationality, relatives, an identity, religion, purpose, fashion sense, status, possessions, and a mirror whose reflection is claimed to be what it really is. By childhood the identity of a person is so encrusted that our essence is no longer apparent (if it ever was in the first place) or noticeable.
The “me” believes it is separate from its own self. Instead of just being hungry it states, “I am hungry” or perhaps, “I have hunger.” Instead of recognizing its own inherent fear it says, “I am afraid of this,” or “I am worried about that.” Instead of seeing its own anger it will blame the anger on someone else — “My neighbor made me so angry.”
The sense of self places an object on all of its “I am” sentences — I am this, or I am that. The “me” is drowning in thoughts. If all thoughts were removed from a person then what would be left except for a physical body and consciousness? There would be no trace of a “me” — no plans, ideals, worries, identities, interests, fears, belongings, debts, assents, memories, etc. The past and future would be gone. But, alas, these aspects of ourselves are all needed for the most practical reasons, for living in our world, discerning between what happened yesterday and what happened last week, or where we put our car keys or how to log onto our computers. Yet at the same time the contents of consciousness are what leads to our suffering. This is the paradox of existence.
what we think we are is false
The image of what we are is a false representative for the totality of what we actually are. Thus, when we observe the world and all of its parts we tend to do so from the perspective of the “me,” which means that the observer is not free; it is limited by its own fragmentation away from the whole. The observer, then, is not in accord with the observed. This creates internal conflict as we deny some aspects of ourselves while we accept others. And we label things according to our presumptions, beliefs, and knowledge (what we have learned from sources outside of our own experience).
we judge and criticize what we see in others
We judge and criticize what we see in others without seeing that we are shades of the same basic composition.
We say we are good people, yet we are often or occasionally rude, angry, greedy, jealous, or envious. We point the finger at others for having traits that we ourselves have. Our friend is petty, but we don’t recognize our own pettiness. Or we abhor violence yet when someone does us wrong our minds may spin an imaginative tale of revenge.
By taking a proactive role in observing what you are you can discover your own conflicts, and out of this conflict — caused by denial, fear, reluctance, partiality, judgments, biases, suppositions, etc. — arises your own suffering. Like it or not, we cause our own suffering because we think in a groove, reactively and according to our psychological conditioning. To escape this conflict we tend to look the other way, try to escape, distract ourselves, drink alcohol, do drugs, play games, pray to God for help, gossip, engage in self-harm, run around in packs, exercise, force our minds to be quiet as we sit in meditation, and on and on.
The “me” fails to see that it is an observer that is observing itself in others; and it fails to see that it lives in a world of its own making. The fact that we are brought up in an environment of competition, judgment, criticism, and conflict makes moving beyond the self a very difficult enterprise for most of us, but the first step is to observe in an unalloyed way to see what actually IS instead of what we judge it to be.
relationships show us what we are
When we interact with others we can take note of how we react and how judgmental (and other) thoughts automatically run through our minds. We are often ready with a response before we have really listened with a completely open mind. If you’ve ever watched a political debate perhaps you’ve noticed that the politicians are only using their platforms to make their talking points. They have no real interest in a productive interaction; it’s all about them and their goals. This is how the “me,” the self, behaves and interacts with the world. It is selfish and self-centered to the max.
is the observer present or of the past?
When the observer is of the past then there can be no clear observation. This also means that we are prone to be reactive instead of creative. There is a clarity of the mind when the past — anger, fear, knowledge, memories, labels, judgment, and so on — is not associated with the observation or the observer.
In my own experience, from having looked at the way reality is over the decades, the observer seems to be the observed when the observer is of the past, because whatever is observed is colored by the observer. Paradoxically, the observer is the observed when the observer is not of the past, because all that exists is actually a reflection of a one and only consciousness. Despite manifold appearances and qualities, all that exists is one consciousness taking different forms.
The importance of enquiring into whether the observer and observed are the same, and how the observer can be of the past, is to realize how the conditioned mind interferes with clarity of seeing things how they actually are.
what does all of this imply?
Now that we’ve gone through this idea of the observer and the observed it the question may arise: What does this imply and why would I care? And this is where I repeat what I have often written: These series of articles are not for everyone, but for those who are curious or driven to know who they are beneath the egoic sense of self, the “me.” So if you’re searching for your true self, paying attention to how you perceive the world is quite important, especially because the only thing between you and totality is a mind fixated on, and distracted by, ideas, memories, and fears generated from one major belief, which is that you are a body inside of the world and that you are somehow separated from the world.
