Nonpresence and questions

In this incantation, I uncover how surface and subsurface questions shape my understanding and healing process. Surface questions, tied to the present and tangible, offer clarity and momentary resolution, while subsurface inquiries, grounded in imagination and nonpresence, perpetuate ambiguity and momentary expansion. Healing reduces my attachment to questioning as I embrace being over grasping. I redefine truth, discarding subjective-objective divides, grounding it in the immediacy of my present experience. This realization aligns my focus with the present, letting go of subsurface illusions that obscure clarity. By prioritizing the surface, I reduce mental restlessness, approaching stillness and true self-awareness.


In my journey to understand I ask questions. Questions are my way of grasping for stability — an effort to hold on as I fall. Questions, along with their corresponding answers, are a symptom of my diseased inner state. They emerge when I am unwell, when clarity eludes me. When I am whole, I don’t feel the need to ask questions.

As I heal, I notice two profound shifts: the quality of my answers improves, and I withdraw from asking questions altogether. While certain aspects of my awakening demand answers, others do not. What differentiates these aspects? It lies in the distinction between the surface and the subsurface.

The Surface vs. The Subsurface

Surface questions pertain to the present and tangible, what is manifest and apparent. They lead to answers that can terminate the inquiry. For example, when I ask about the current state of the table next to me—its presence, texture, or function—the question is conclusive. The table is here, now, and concrete with specific qualities and characteristics I can definitively describe.

Subsurface questions, on the other hand, delve into the nonpresent and abstract. They yield inconclusive answers because their very nature resists certainty. For instance, asking about the table’s manufacturing process—its past, its origins—moves the inquiry away from the tangible present and into the imaginary past. It introduces qualities that are nonpresent in time, space, or character. The more I need to imagine, the more ambiguous and inconclusive the answers become.

The Nature of Nonpresence

Nonpresence in time, space, or quality makes a subject increasingly subsurface. Subsurface inquiries rely on imagination, which is inherently abstract. My bed now is present—tangible in time, space, and quality. But imagining this same bed 10 years ago renders it nonpresent and subsurface, existing only in my mind. I do not have to imagine the bed I am laying on now, but I do have to imagine the same bed being assembled 10 years ago in other places.

This distinction between the surface and subsurface reveals an essential truth: questions about the nonpresent cannot be conclusively answered because uncertainty and unknowability is the very nature of the nonpresent. The more imagination is involved, the less definitive the answers. Subsurface resolutions are by their very nature ambiguous because the nonpresent is ambiguous.

To think about things that are not here, not now, or not immediately experiential is to wade into the realm of the abstract and imaginary. Subsurface questions cannot bring closure. They are inherently unresolved because their subjects are nonpresent. Conversely, surface questions, rooted in the present and tangible, offer clarity.

For example, asking about the present qualities of a sink—its shape, color, and function—is a surface-level inquiry. It terminates in a definitive and satisfactory answer. But asking about its history—its design process, the hands that crafted it—pushes the inquiry into nonpresence. These questions remain open-ended, abstract, and ultimately unresolvable.

Beyond Objective and Subjective

Can this distinction be equated to “objective” and “subjective”? Not quite. Traditional definitions of objectivity rely on what can be verified by “everyone.” But “everyone” itself is a subsurface construct—a concept that exists in my imagination rather than in my immediate presence. Only I am present and whatever few people happen to exist in my moment. “All other people” and their perspectives are inherently nonpresent and amorphous, making them subsurface and unresolvable.

Approaching Truth

As I near the Truth, I no longer question the subsurface or the nonpresent. I accept the surface—the present, the manifest—as it is, without the need to question. The journey to understanding becomes less about grasping and more about being. In this state, I find clarity. Questions diminish, and I embrace the present moment. The surface becomes my anchor, and the subsurface fades into the background—a fleeting shadow of what once felt so pressing.

Purpose of the Framework – What is my ultimate goal in distinguishing between surface and subsurface inquiries? Am I using this distinction primarily for self-awareness, philosophical exploration, or something else?

My ultimate goal is to recognize that questions about nonpresent subjects are inherently unresolvable. Understanding this helps me discern which questions are worth pursuing. If I seek a definitive answer to a question that, by its nature, cannot provide one, then my pursuit is misaligned with reality. This misalignment reflects a misunderstanding—both of the question itself and of my expectations. By making this distinction, I aim to focus my momentary energy on inquiries that offer clarity and resolution, rather than chasing answers that remain perpetually out of reach.

Nature of Healing and Questions – Why does healing lead me to ask fewer questions? Do I view questioning as inherently negative, or does their necessity simply diminish as I gain more clarity?

Healing by its definition is unwakening—a release from attachment to my awakening experience. Asking questions about my awakening experience reflects my attachment to it. This attachment to my awakening moment forms a bond which is rooted in the need for resolution. This need holds me back from fully unwakening or healing; my desire for answers from my awakening and my desire to heal through unwakening become opposing forces. As I heal, my need to question diminishes because my attachment to the answers fades, allowing me to move beyond them and let go.

Role of Imagination – If subsurface questions rely heavily on imagination, do I see imagination as a limitation in my pursuit of clarity, or could it play a constructive role in addressing deeper, nonpresent truths?

There are no “nonpresent truths.” Truth exists on a spectrum, with my own Being as the ultimate and complete Truth, while everything outside my direct Being represents a diluted variation of it. To illustrate, I can envision myself standing in a hall of infinite mirrors. Each reflection offers some surface-level representation of me, but none are truly me. The most potent Truth resides in me—the observer, the source, and the creator of those reflections—not within the reflections themselves. Imagination, therefore, becomes a limitation because it projects, creating this hall of mirrors effect, leading me to seek Truth within projections rather than recognizing it at the source—myself, the origin of all projections. Imagination is an extension of my awakening desire and is me looking outward for something rather than recognizing that everything I seek is here, in me. Imagination is an extension of my awakening desire to look outward into subsurface and nonpresent for answers. This outward search obscures my realization that everything I seek is already here, within me. Imagination is a feature of my illness.

Subsurface Resolutions – Do I believe that subsurface questions always lack resolution, or are there instances where imaginative or abstract inquiry brings its own form of clarity, even if it isn’t definitive?

Subsurface questioning may offer varying degrees of “clarity,” but that clarity does not alter the fundamental truth that the subsurface is a reflection, not the source. Nonpresent questions are inherently circular; their resolution depends entirely on where I choose to stop questioning—whether by accepting a final answer as truth or acknowledging that the answer cannot be known. There will always be more questions to ask, deeper layers to explore, and further refinements to consider. True clarity lies in understanding that subsurface resolutions are not definitive truths but deliberate choices to pause my inquiry.

Beyond Objective and Subjective – Since I reject traditional definitions of objectivity, how do I define objectivity within my framework? Is it possible for me to reconcile the surface/subsurface distinction with the idea of shared reality?

The concept of objectivity is unhelpful because it is rooted in the demiselfist perspective—the belief that I exist as one person among many other people, in one place among many other places, and in one time among many other times. This perspective assumes that truth is something I might not possess but that others might, reinforcing an imaginary separation. Rather than attempting to recycle the subjective-objective dichotomy, I choose to discard it entirely. As for the notion of shared reality, it exists only as an imagined construct—something I cannot directly verify and, therefore, a product of my awakening moment. The idea of a shared reality are nonpresent ideas belonging to the subsurface realm, and holding no inherent truth outside of my imagination.

Truth and Acceptance – When I approach Truth and cease subsurface questioning, does this mean I believe Truth is entirely found in the present and tangible? Or is there still space for deeper, abstract truths in my understanding?

Pure Truth is the state of simply being, free from surface or subsurface questioning. As I draw closer to Truth, I will experience it more tangibly in the present moment. It will manifest as a kind of stillness—both within and without—a state where movement, whether physical or mental, subsides. My awakening will not be marked by excitement or stimulation but by a profound stillness, allowing me to experience the essence of being, or “firstself,” more clearly.

In my current state, I find myself constantly moving—both in body and mind—as a way to soothe an internal restlessness. When I stop moving, I encounter a kind of agony. However, as I approach Truth, this pain will diminish, and I will discover the ability to exist in stillness, free from the compulsion to pacify.

Application of Insights – How do I see this framework applying to my daily life—relationships, decision-making, or personal growth? Is it meant to be purely philosophical, practical, or a blend of both?

While I am currently deeply immersed in my professional pursuits, everything I write is meant to be practical, serving as an active guide in my awakening. This framework helps me contextualize my actions, even in the professional realm, allowing me to see them for what they truly are and are not. When I acknowledge that the people I am supposedly competing against, the workers I supposedly employ, and the successes I supposedly strive for are all ultimately nonpresent, I understand they are all reflections of my inner illness. Even though I may continue working, by confronting it honestly I can begin the process of healing.

Transition to Clarity – What practices or realizations have helped me shift from grasping to being? How do I recognize when I am in a state of simply “being”?

I have already experienced many realizations, and I know more await me before I can fully withdraw from my belief in my own personhood. Each realization once strengthened my identity, so I must now undo all of them, revealing how much ground I still need to cover before returning to pure Being. In my final state of Being, I imagine closing my eyes and seeing that I can choose never to open them again, content to remain in that stillness. I rarely reach this state, as I still hold many awakening goals. When I recognize how much effort it takes to release my attachments to these ambitions, I see the extent of the journey that lies ahead.

Impact of Present Awareness – By focusing on the surface—the present and tangible—am I ever limiting my ability to connect with abstract ideas, future planning, or deeper emotional experiences?

Yes. By focusing on the surface, I choose not to engage in the imaginary. That includes abstract ideas, future possibilities, deeper emotional experiences, and anything else beyond the immediate reality of my present time, present space, and present experience. This self-imposed restriction grounds my awareness and reflection firmly on what is in my present moment.