I RECALL SITTING IN A MEETING some years ago and having a sense of confusion — a feeling that there was something going on that I did not fully understand. There was a lack of clarity, along with heaviness, fogginess, and some numbness.

I often thought back on this situation because it was very extreme and overwhelming, yet it happened in such a quiet way. Because it made a strong imprint in my memory and stayed with me for a long time, it became an obvious situation to bring to the cushion.

Of course, it is helpful if we can practice in daily life as experiences arise, but sometimes we may not have the capacity. We get caught or triggered and lack inner space. For me, situations where ignorance clouds the mind have been especially helpful to bring to the cushion, as a way to see how they illuminate something important.

When we speak of ignorance in the Buddhist tradition, we are not speaking of a lack of knowledge or information, even though that can be part of it. We are pointing to the immediate lived experience of not recognizing what is happening — when something covers our natural clarity.

Curiosity may not be our first response when experiences are unpleasant or not very visible. It takes intention to bring attention to ignorance, to moments where we are out of touch, where this fundamental quality of not recognizing the nature of reality is present, and to look both at the confusion and at the somatic experience — with its heaviness, numbness, and fogginess.

When I brought this situation to the cushion, I noticed I was looking for something permanent — as if there were a single truth about what was going on that I should be able to grasp and that would be lasting. I also saw how I experienced myself as an independent observer who should be able to understand the situation, without recognizing that I was also part of what was happening.

Underlying this were assumptions of separation, independence, and the belief that there must be a final truth, something permanent. When we analyze these assumptions, we see they do not really make sense, yet this is often how the outward-facing mind tries to grasp certainty. Bringing such situations into practice allows them to open into profound wisdom.

In this Blueprints of Awakening Immersion course, we look at abandoning, transforming, and transcending. From the perspective of abandoning, having more information — such as understanding cultural differences or trauma responses — could have helped to some degree, bringing more clarity and compassion. This kind of understanding is important, but in my case, it was only partially helpful, and the experience remained heavy.

When we stop and look directly at ignorance, instead of desperately searching for clarity, we can break the experience into components. Then ignorance is no longer ignorant of itself — some clarity and inner space already arise.

Looking deeper, we find nothing we can pin down. This is where we arrive at cognizance or wakefulness beyond concepts,  where we cannot say that it is this and we cannot say that it is that. This is what we call transcending. We move beyond both the labeling mind and the confused mind and arrive in a space that can hold both the labeling and not labeling, and we see that this space is the nature of all experiences. Ignorance and wisdom are not two different things, but two ways of recognizing or not recognizing space itself.

Ignorance has a quality of not discriminating — things are blurred and undifferentiated. Because of this, the mind cannot settle on anything definitive. This very quality of not discriminating becomes the doorway to understanding wisdom. In the five buddha families, Vairochana, the white central figure, symbolizes this basic space of awareness that is open, unbound, and all-pervading.

In the earlier meeting example, the fogginess and lack of clarity were a lived experience of not recognizing this deeper space in which the experience was unfolding. That is why ignorance and wisdom are so closely connected — they are two sides of the same coin. The fog is the unrecognized version of this all-inclusive space; clarity is the recognized version of the same space.

As we turn toward experience with curiosity, not discriminating becomes less like collapse and more like opening, softening, and widening. We begin to sense the field itself — the relational atmosphere, emotional undertones, interconnectedness of self and situation, in my case, and the somatic signals — all showing a mind struggling to create certainty in a situation that is inherently very fluid.

As sensations lose their solidity, we return to broader awareness. Not fully knowing becomes okay rather than a problem. We relax into openness, the sense of being an independent observer softens, and the pressure to grasp a single interpretation eases. Clarity does not need to be conceptual; sometimes clarity is spaciousness, and the recognition that the moment is larger than our usual way of grasping.

Bringing this meeting to the cushion revealed how situations are not linear or singular, but full of nuance, like a dance unfolding in open space. The recognition of this spacious quality allows us to enjoy complexity rather than fight with experience.

The experience of fogginess does not need to disappear for awareness to be present. Bringing this situation to the cushion showed me that awareness had been there all along, even though I had not recognized it. It became a doorway into openness and the wisdom of a space where all experiences can arise.

January 2026