Consider a soap bubble on a sunny day: what color is it?  It depends, right?  On what?  On the angle of view.

Certainty is an impasse.  Reality is rarely (if ever!) either “this” or “that.”  Dichotomous (i.e. dualistic, i.e. 2-fold) logic is too black-and-white to capture the iridescence of reality.  Syādvāda, an ancient Jainist doctrine of 7-fold postulation, allows you a multiplicity of angles of seeing reality.   

Syādvāda teaches that:

- it is impossible to determine the truth of a system within its own thought

- each truth is valid within its own system

- therefore, there is more than one truth

Thus, Syadvada encourages a 7-fold way of referring to reality.   Syadvada offers the following view-specific preambles when describing some aspect of the iridescent reality:

1.Syād-asti — “in some ways something is”

2.Syād-nāsti — “in some ways something is not”

3.Syād-asti-nāsti — “in some ways something is and is not”

4.Syād-asti-avaktavyaḥ — “in some ways something is and it is indescribable”

5.Syād-nāsti-avaktavyaḥ — “in some ways something is not and it is indescribable”

6.Syād-asti-nāsti-avaktavyaḥ — “in some ways something is, is not and is indescribable”

7.Syād-avaktavyaḥ — “in some ways something is indescribable”

The word syadvada comes from two roots. Syat means “may be”, whereas vada means “assertion”. Placed together syādvāda becomes the assertion of what may be, the assertion of possibilities.

A bit confusing, huh?  That’s reality for you.  It’s too fluid for our certainty-craving mindbox.

Syadvada Quick Lube for the Mind

Here’s my own (semi-poetic) interpretation of this 7-fold logic. 

1.

If you can see the reality in at least seven ways

You can be at peace with it.

And one with it too.

2.

The essence of any mind-war or body-war is: “I think This” versus “I think This.”

From the side it looks like it’s just two people arguing about their respective version of “This” and there is a point to it.

But from inside the seven-fold Syadvada you know there isn’t any one point, just a field of possible points of view.

They are fighting for the exact same thingless thing they call “This.”

3.

And the name of this “This” is

The Nameless.

4.

Truth be told: truth is silent.

Closing Questions for an Opening Mind:

Did you like this post?  Perhaps, you did.  Perhaps, you didn’t.  Perhaps, you did, and, perhaps, in some ways, you didn’t.  Or, perhaps, in some ways you neither liked it nor disliked it.  Or, maybe, just maybe, you can’t quite describe what you felt.  It’s almost always like that….

What’s this post about?  About reality, of course, and, of course, about something entirely indescribable…

Final question to you: is reality colorful or transparent?  WYSIWYC: What You See Is What You Choose (to see).

... watching Greene's Elegant Universe: poetry, poetry, poetry, with at least 2 ontological assumptions unaddressed, but what beautiful poetry it is: an energy string of morphing proto-Essence, that like a musical string, can play any note of Form...  'd love to pose a couple of questions to his brilliant mind but the Big Physics of the Small is like a Brahmin country club: an elite caste of the intellectual untouchables...

Impossible to open your mouth without stepping on the toes of the paradox!  Mind's footprints are everywhere as it follows its own tracks, leading, following, misleading, rebelling, seeking ever new doors only to linger in the doorway... 

The following is a both an entertaining and illuminating passage of self-discovery from Richard Hughe’s 1929 novel “High Wind in Jamaica.”

“And then an event did occur, to Emily, of considerable importance.  She suddenly realized who she was.

[…]  She had been playing houses in a nook right in the bows […], and tiring of it was walking rather aimlessly aft, thinking vaguely about some bees and a fairy queen, when it suddenly flashed into her mind that she was she. 

She stopped dead, and began looking over all of her person which came within the range of eyes.  She could not see much, except a fore-shortened view of the front of her frock, and her hands when she lifted them for inspection: but it was enough for her to form a rough idea of the little body that she suddenly realized to be hers.

She began to laugh, rather mockingly.  “Well!” she though,  in effect: “Fancy you, of all people, going and getting caught like this! – You can’t get  out of it now, not for a very long time: you’ll have to go through with being a child, and growing up, and getting old, before you’ll be quit of this mad prank!”

Determined to avoid any interruption of this highly important occasion, she began to climb the ratlines, on her way to her favorite perch on the mast-head.  Each time she moved an arm or a leg in this simple action, however, it struck her with fresh amusement to find them obeying her so readily.  Memory told her, of course, that they had always done so before: but before, she had never realized how surprising this was.

Once settled on her perch, she began examining the skin of her hands with the utmost care: for it was hers.  She slipped a shoulder out of the top of her frock, and having peeped in to make sure she really was continuous under her clothes, she shrugged it up to touch her cheek.   The contact of her face and the warm bare hollow of her shoulder gave her a comfortable thrill, as if it was the caress of some kind of friend.  But whether the feeling came to her through her cheek or her shoulder, which was the caresser and which was the caressed, that no analysis could tell her.

Once fully convinced of this astonishing fact […] she began seriously to reckon its implications.”

Step out of your mind for a few minutes (like Emily).  Discover this body of yours.  And then discover the discoverer.

Resources:

Lotus Effect: Shedding Suffering & Rediscovering Your Essential Self