Where Swami answers your questions, and you will question his answers

BY SWAMI BEYONDANANDA

Dear Swami:

I have asked this question of many great masters, and none could answer it to my satisfaction. So I will ask you: how do you know you know?

Ashir Dropov

Brooklyn, New York

Dear Ashir:

As far as I know, there are Four Stages of Knowing:

1. You don't know.

2. You don't know you don't know.

3. You know you don't know.

4. You know "I don't know" is all you need to know.

Clearly, you have not achieved Stage Four because you still think you need to know if you know, and your desire to be aware of what you know and what you don't know has led you to a state of mental confusion. I understand this condition from my own experience, because I too was a know-aware man. But then in an instant of enlightenment, I went from know awareness to no awareness. As soon as I knew I didn't know, I knew. Y'know?

And you know what? In these uncertain times, what better way to face the unknown than by not knowing? You don't know? Great! You are prepared.

Dear Swami:

Since you seem to be an expert on humor, tell me this: what makes something funny?

Howard Datby

Lincoln, Nebraska

Dear Howard:

OK, I will give you an example. Three men — a swami, a rabbi, and a hedge fund manager — were traveling and needed a place to stop for the night. They stopped at a farmhouse, and the farmer told them he only had two spare beds and one of them would have to sleep in the barn. The swami, being a humble man, volunteered to sleep there. But in five minutes, there was a knock on the door. It was the swami. He apologized profusely and said that although cows were sacred in his tradition, it was not appropriate to sleep near them. The rabbi said, "I have nothing against cows," and he volunteered to sleep in the barn. Five minutes later came another knock on the door. It was the rabbi. "There's a pig in the barn," he said. "Pigs aren't kosher, and it wouldn't be right for me, a rabbi, to sleep that close to them." At this point, the hedge fund manager jumped up. "Look, we need to get some sleep, so I'll sleep out there. I have no problem with cows or pigs." Out he went, and in five minutes there was another knock on the door. It was the cow and the pig.

So, to answer your question ... something is funny for the same reason it isn't funny.

Dear Swami:

I am one who believes that Universal Intelligence in the form of Nature is always sending us signals. For example, if I see an eagle, it is a reminder to let my higher nature soar. Or an armadillo tells me to be aware of my boundaries. I am usually able to figure out these messages pretty easily, but last week I was at a nearby lake, and I saw something I've never seen before. As I peered at the rocks along the shore, I saw a fish that looked like a cross between a catfish and a swordfish. A local fellow later told me it was a gar. Never having seen one before, I am at a total loss as to the special meaning of this unusual sighting. Swami, what does it mean to see gar?

Barber Q. Dribbs

Lampasas, Texas

Dear Barber:

Since no book I've ever seen has mentioned any symbolism for this critter, maybe we should just fall back on the words of Dr. Freud: "Sometimes a ‘see gar' is just a ‘see gar.'"

Swami Beyondananda is the comic alter ego of Steve Bhaerman and can be found online at www.wakeuplaughing.com. On the serious side, Steve recently coauthored Spontaneous Evolution: Our Positive Future and a Way to Get There From Here with cellular biologist Bruce Lipton.