Sometimes I wonder whether, with all the knowledge available to us today, we have truly come closer to ourselves, or whether it is precisely this abundance that increasingly causes us to lose sight of who we are. Never before has it been so easy to find an answer. A thought, a quick search, a conversation, a video or someone else’s opinion can be enough for something to seem explained, even when perhaps it was not yet ready to be understood within us. I have experienced for myself how reassuring it can feel to find an immediate interpretation for every uncertainty. An explanation gives the mind something to hold on to, yet at the same time it can prevent us from staying a little longer with whatever is stirring inside us. We may know what something is called, why it happens and which pattern it belongs to, without ever really noticing how it actually feels.
Knowledge is not something I distrust. It can open horizons, reveal connections and help us understand our experiences more clearly. It only becomes problematic when we stop using it as a companion and begin using it as a substitute for our own perception. I have noticed how quickly the mind reaches for an answer whenever a feeling is uncomfortable, contradictory or difficult to define. Instead of feeling the unease in my body, I search for its cause. Instead of allowing an inner movement time to unfold, I begin to analyse it. This creates the impression that I have been engaging with myself, when in truth I have only been thinking about myself. There is a subtle but important difference between the two.
This is precisely where the message of New Reiki – Back to the Source touches me. The book does not lead towards another system of thought that I am expected to adopt, but back towards that quiet level where insight does not first appear as a sentence. There, it may reveal itself as an immediate sensation, a change in the breath, a sense of spaciousness, warmth or a clarity that is difficult to explain. Energy does not always have to be perceived dramatically in order to feel real. Often, it is quiet and so natural that we overlook it because we have learned to give more attention to what is loud and easy to name. For me, returning to the source therefore does not mean rejecting knowledge, but remembering that my own experience already carries a form of knowing within it.
Yet this inner certainty can easily be covered over. In I – Your Best Liar, that voice is given space which makes us believe that we only need to find one more answer before we can finally feel certain. I know this movement from my own life. I ask other people, read about their experiences, compare different views and look for a sign that confirms what, deep down, I may already sense. The searching appears sensible, conscientious and intelligent. Yet it can become an almost invisible form of self-manipulation when I begin taking every outside judgement more seriously than my own immediate perception. The longer I orient myself outside myself, the more unfamiliar my own voice can eventually begin to sound.
That voice does not disappear, but it becomes overlaid by the sheer volume of other people’s words. It does not compete with them or try to force itself forward, and that is precisely why it is so easy to miss. Inner truth rarely speaks in the language of final proof. It may be more like a quiet tightening when something is not right, or an unexpected calm even while the mind continues to raise doubts. I have learned that self-trust does not mean always being right. It means not dismissing my own perception too quickly. Accepting help, examining knowledge and considering other perspectives remain valuable, as long as I do not exclude myself from the conversation.
As this inner closeness fades, our way of seeing the world changes too. What we believe we have fully explained often touches us less deeply. We understand the physical processes behind a sunset, know how rain forms and can describe the structure of a flower. All of this expands our understanding, but it does not guarantee that we will still look at the sky, feel the rain on our skin or stop in front of a flower. For me, Become Magical Again is a reminder of precisely this forgotten relationship with life. Magic here is not the opposite of reason and not an escape from reality. It begins where knowledge no longer closes everything down, but leaves room for wonder once again.
I do not believe we lose our sense of wonder simply because we grow older or because we have learned too much. We lose it when we begin seeing only through concepts. As soon as we name something, it is easy to feel as though we have grasped it. Yet there is an entire world between knowing the name of a tree and standing beneath its canopy. There is also a depth between explaining a feeling and truly living through that feeling which no concept can replace. Perhaps our task is not to understand less, but to move through our understanding and return to the living experience that can never be fully contained in words.
For me, thinking, feeling and wonder do not belong in separate realms. They can complement one another, as long as none of them takes control over everything else. Knowledge gives orientation, the inner voice offers direction, and wonder keeps our relationship with life open. Only when they work together does a form of understanding emerge that does not remain in the mind alone, but reaches the whole person. Then an answer does not become the end of a question, but a new way of seeing. It does not close down experience, but deepens it.
Perhaps the real danger of our time is not that we know too much, but that we confuse knowledge with truth. Truth cannot always be collected, stored or proven. Sometimes it reveals itself in a moment when the mind becomes quiet enough to notice what has already been there all along. In that moment, something returns that no technique and no external explanation can create. It is the closeness to ourselves from which we can begin to feel again, trust again and lift our eyes without immediately having to name whatever it is that touches us there.