The Ghost in the Post

When What I Don't Know Can Sometimes Drive Me Crazy

A few years ago John led us through a text called Aparokshanubhuti. The commentary was by Swami Chinmayananda. Aparoksha means not indirect knowledge.

Think of direct knowledge like what we can tangibly see and experience. For example, I see a glass and know it’s a glass. This is opposed to inferred or indirect knowledge. I’ve read all about London, I’ve heard about London but until I am actually in London experiencing London, its indirect knowledge.

If direct knowledge is a tangible experience and indirect knowledge is an inferred experience, then what is not-indirect knowledge?

It’s something I know is there, but can’t experience through the senses, it can’t be inferred either.

Not indirect knowledge refers to the SELF. Self exists but because I can’t see it with my senses I question its existence. The irony is, I cannot exist without Self. Self is that presence in which all knowledge (whether direct or indirect) and perception takes place.

Our teacher puts it this way. If you know something. No problem. If you don’t know something. No problem. But if you think something is there but you don’t know what it is… BIG problem.

This is often characterised through the story of the snake in the rope. Or in Aparokshanubhuti the ghost in the post.

I walk by a lamp post, no problem I see the lamp post, no problem I walk by a lamp post and think I see a ghost in the post… Huge problem

Why am I rambling on about this today? Because I just had a direct experience of this.

We travelled to the USA in early July to celebrate my dad’s 90th Birthday. It was a wonderful event. Many luminaries in the music world came together to celebrate my dad. The whole family was involved in putting on the event and afterwards we were all tired. Me especially, as handling the jet lag between Australia and the USA for such a quick trip is no mean feat. When it was time to return home, I was running on empty. Our plane was delayed, and we left late in the evening.

As soon as we sat down, I could tell I wasn’t my usual confident plane flying self. It didn’t help that the flight attendants were trying to get us to board quickly and take our seats so we could use our allocated take-off time.

Photo by Karsten Winegeart on Unsplash

As I looked to my right, I could see a man desperate to get something out of the overhead bin. But every time he did the flight attendant would catch him and ask him to sit down. So, he’d sit down, check to see if she had gone and stand up again to get out whatever it was he needed. Then he’d talk to the guy on the opposite side of the aisle. They were obviously travelling together. They were both balding and had beards. Once the flight was in the air, they both got up at the same time and pulled their backpacks from the overhead lockers. This was when I started to feel panicky.

I had lived through 9/11. I was in NYC on the day, and I’ll never forget the moment the planes hit the towers. The feeling of shock and fear that racked my body. And the fear of flying that overwhelmed me for months afterwards. In fact, I sought professional help to get me over my fear of flying which thankfully worked.

So, I was frustrated to find myself reacting to these men. Once they had their backpacks down, I tried not to notice the weird things the guy opposite me pulled out: two phones, some sort of case, and a strange cylindrical object that had multi-coloured jewelled lights at the end which he appeared to suck on. At the same time the guy in front of us, who I couldn’t see, sounded like he was strapping a vest onto himself (which he wasn’t but you know I was in full panic mode). Then the guy to the right got up, the guy in front of me got up and they went to opposite ends of the plane. This was probably the point where a full panic attack began to set in. Then they came back and sat down. The guy opposite opened the strange case and put on a pair of dark glasses, probably Meta glasses, and the guy in front started watching a video. That was it.

They weren’t suicide bombers or terrorists, they were tech bros, desperate to use their technology to enjoy the flight. But I was so busy seeing a ghost in the post, that it took me the rest of the flight to regain my equilibrium. John was so sweet throughout reminding me that we would laugh about this when we landed. Which of course we did.

The funny thing is there was a terrorist on the plane. But it wasn’t sitting opposite me. It was me. The number one international terrorist that terrorises all of us is “I” conjuring up fantasies, reacting to those fantasies while all the while, Self (the calm itself, the awareness itself), is playing host without judgement or concern. Awareness, consciousness doesn’t react. Only I do! The trick is to recognise that what I am seeing isn’t necessarily the truth. The ghost in the post is of my own making.

Still laughing,

Rachel