Knowing.

After all these decades of searching for spiritual truths, there’s one notion beginning to emerge as pre-eminently credible. It’s the idea that every one us knows everything there is to know because we are all fragments of the Universal Consciousness, and it’s obviously in the nature of such a phenomenon to know everything.

So why don’t we know that we know everything? Ironically, I don’t know the answer to that, but maybe it’s the fact that our physical brain – which is the organ we use to operate memory – is far too small. If we tried to carry everything in it, maybe we would blow our lids off like a pot of overheated strawberry jam.

Whatever the answer, the fundamental proposition still appeals greatly to me. Now, if only I could prove it. If only anybody could prove it. Why does life and the nature of existence have to be so frustrating to people like me?

Tomorrow I might make the post about the ghost of Queen Anne Boleyn saying ‘Jeffrey’ to an American medium. That was creepy, so maybe I will or maybe I won’t. I don’t know yet. I don’t know anything. (I think I said that before. It’s my mantra. It’s also getting late and I go to bed early these days.)