Truth Beyond Concepts: Where the Mind Pauses and Being Begins
When Ideas Can’t Satisfy
It was gentler, almost embarrassing, how the search for answers kept leading me into a tangle. My bookshelf swelled with texts on non-duality and being vs doing consciousness. I took comfort in the clarity of their diagrams, their clever distinctions between the observer and the observed. But something in my chest stayed restless. It’s the ache that comes when conceptual understanding hits its limit—when the world becomes too big or too raw to fit inside the boxes I’ve carefully built. At a certain point, I began to wonder what consciousness really is. But even then, the real mystery lived somewhere beyond my explanations.
Who Is the Observer, Really?
There’s a tender panic in asking who is the observer—especially if you’ve built safety around knowing. Sometimes the question rattled inside me, especially on days when my mind wouldn’t stay quiet. I remember sitting, legs numb, counting breaths and trying to witness my thoughts. None of it felt like freedom. Behind the practice was the same hidden hunger: if I could figure out my mind, then I could finally rest. But the harder I pressed, the further away rest became. Years later, I realized that the observer self concept could be explored, but not captured—a feeling more than a final answer.
Dissolving Non-Duality and Duality in the Body
Words like dual and non-dual sound powerful—until my body reminds me of what’s real. Oddly enough, I first tasted truth beyond concepts in the shakiness of my hands, the cool floor beneath me, the ache of grief I thought I could sidestep with philosophy. In those moments, I realized how being vs doing consciousness isn’t something I could resolve by thinking better thoughts. My breath, my trembling, my tears—these were flashes of what doesn’t fit language, what quietly keeps living regardless of how I explain it. Only later would I stumble on articles like Non-duality explained and realize that even the best definitions are just pointers toward something the body already knows in silence.
Permission to Stop Chasing Understanding
If you find yourself wrestling with the question, 'Who is the observer?' or feel caught between non-duality vs duality frameworks, it is not because you are failing. You might try letting your attention rest lower—into your belly or hands—feeling what’s present without needing to make sense of it. Sometimes I simply ask, 'What’s here that isn’t a thought?' and wait. Most days, there is no answer at all, only a sense of breathing and softness. I’ve come across the idea that you are not your thoughts, and while it helps to read it, sometimes it means more to simply feel it. You don’t have to reach any mystical realization. You get to begin here, just as you are, no matter what you understand.
A Human Note on Science, Mystery, and Awareness
Neuroscience tells us the brain loves patterns, naming, and clarity. But trauma or loss reminds us that not every experience can be neatly sorted. Research shows that disciplined attention—what some call mindfulness—can transform the brain, but it can’t guarantee liberation from pain or confusion. Sometimes I wonder about the fine line between awareness and attention. Some things, I’m beginning to believe, are meant to be lived, not solved.
Let It Be Unknown
If truth beyond concepts has a flavor, maybe it’s this: the warmth of being alive, whether or not I can name it. It’s the sweet relief of not having to resolve non-duality vs duality, the gentle permission to let the observer slip into the background, and the body have its gentle say. If Eastern traditions call it Advaita Vedanta, to me it lands as an invitation: May you trust that you can be here—unresolved, imperfect, and deeply allowed.