All Knowledge Worth Knowing Cannot Be Taught

All knowledge worth knowing cannot be taught. 

It has to be seen or experienced by the individual itself and felt as truth, otherwise what is learned are merely things society has deemed valuable in order to go further in the game it created.

If your mind is so inclined then it's hard to arrive at the point where you see the words that escaped your lips played a role that was crucial in constructing the reality you now know.

Knowledge doesn't come from books. Information does.

Knowledge of worth, which no one elses knows, is created through knowing one's self, more, in relation to information one imbibes. Books can point in directions with questions and wonders inspired, but answers are all there inside us. 

If you know this, then it will seem to others as though you are well educated despite holding no post. Because you are your own university. The issue is whether you have the courage to enrol and the patience to sit in its seminars, engaging with tutors, who are all parts of you.

Some people see learning as the task to increase the sum of facts and figures in their heads. Knowing is a process of accumulation to them. Of acquisition. But I see knowing as the process of becoming one with the thing I wish to know. Having the thing I wish to know live inside me.

Knowing is an act of embodiment. Fusion with a truth. If I wish to know about love, I know it. I don't read books about love or watch videos where experts wax on about what love is. I just allow myself to feel it. Open myself up, let love inside and grant it the freedom to occupy me.

Love is a squatter whose presence pays all bills

When love is inside me I listen to truths each moment they rise, so don't stress about being on time for its lectures. Like I would in the real world. Because Professor Love is a guest I hope never leaves my house! I learn from her when the time is right. (which is most fortunate, as I am always late)

Many things in this world seem the wrong way around. Like learning. Learning, for me, occurs in emptying one's insides, out. With Art. With Words. With Actions. With Breath. Remaining as such. Never harbouring. Never holding onto. (how full of myself do I sound!) 

It is the art of continual removal of all detritus and debris in the mind. The flushing of obstacles strewn all around, littering its ground, that make one have to tip-toe when going place to place; shifting from memory to memory. Learning is the expelling of all mental refuse we discard when we're discarded, which we refuse to accept began with us, and now swims thick through the air the self is breathing. Turbulent currents of single-use plastic with nowhere to go accumulate in mind over time through denial. And the only place you always are becomes a blizzard of trash pelting you into submission...

Empty it!!! Take it in your hands, turn it over and then tip it all out. Go on, give it a good shake! Make sure you get everything. You missed a bit. No, there! A soggy ALDI receipt. I know, but it still shouldn't be there.

The renewing breeze that only Spring can bring now wafts through the endless pastures before you. Nothing but an infinity of open green space. Nothing but nothing. Cleansed of contaminants you now feel so free walking from A to B in the shortest way possible between two points, with no need to circumnavigate the globe to move 2 steps ahead. You're free to wander without aim through a land you now remember is yours, whose rivers and valleys and mountains give you no fear, and so have no need to be governed.

Having said all this, I don't put up with nonsense in my internal kingdom! Like memories of events banding together in my mind, forbidding me from entering their territory (despite me owning the land!). Out of bounds areas of my self trying to prevent news about what goes on there leaking out, overwhelming me with bad feelings should I come too close. I can't be having that kind thing taking place in my world, I'm sorry. It can breed only fear in one, and loneliness in the other.

It's not a very pleasant, relaxing on the bog of a morning with your favourite newspaper in hand, suddenly hearing a thunderous rumbling crack coming from above. You glance up to see the roof of your house being gently removed, revealing a lovely blue sky high up in the heavens beyond - noting to yourself that it's actually quite nice out today - before a massive beady eye assumes the position of your late roof, an eye belonging to a nosey giant who peers in at you while your bowels in frustration express their reluctance to leave a job half-finished. Petrified and unsatisfied, you immediately turn claret, flushed with fear and embarrassment, hoping in vain that in naming the giant as the pervert he is, with lungs at full capacity, he will turn and scamper towards the horizon feeling ashamed of himself...

But the nosey giant stays and just smiles at you

That's how those places within our minds which don't wish to be known by us ought to be treated. Albums of memories we've buried deep below, have plastered over and long walked away from. Memories too pained by trauma to accept their own voices but desperately wish that they could. By removing the roof of the fortress they erected, the safe space they need to reside in to guard against knowing more pain, the shame of our scrutiny, and the fear of being judged unfairly by others for feeling the way that they do - by lifting the lid and then peering inside with a curiosity free from all motive and intention - healing through an acceptance of all that we are and have had to endure to get here becomes possible, and so hope is born.

Endeavour to locate and expose, all of the mind's no-go zones while they shit on the bog reading horoscopes, and with a friendly Scouse accent wave down at them and say

"Alright mate!"

(actually, don't use a Scouse accent. It may be too grating for some)

And so as each passing day escorts me closer to death, I make a conscious effort to free up all space in my mind to keep it perpetually vacant. Free from all things unknown and any disposable needless clutter. Because there's always more you can learn that has worth. And believing this allows one to become a learner for life. You'll always have space for new lessons learned as there'll always be room to receive them.