Self-knowledge is the translation of one’s life experience into symbols that become intelligible to consciousness. The central challenge is that this translation shapes one’s future behaviour. The way we conceptualise our experience determines how we live (and this is precisely what many Eastern spiritual traditions point to).
When concepts shape reality
Let’s consider an example. A person periodically enters an altered state of consciousness: their heart rate rises, their attention shifts, they stop noticing everyday details they previously focused on, their emotional state becomes unstable, and they become highly dependent on another person’s actions — or even just their gaze. In short, the person is falling in love. Noticing a recurring tendency to fall in love with new partners, the person may conclude: I’m so romantic, I fall in love very quickly. That is self-knowledge. A person observes their life and psyche and translates those observations into a specific concept.
But what if the process of falling in love is not recognised within a particular culture? If there is no term for it, the person cannot identify their state as “falling in love.” They will be forced to explain it through the conceptual language they do have.
In a druidic society, they might believe they have been possessed by spirits. In medieval Europe, they might interpret it as witchcraft — and the unfortunate girl might well be accused of being a witch.
What’s most interesting is that we cannot be 100% certain what the person is actually experiencing. Are they in love, possessed, or bewitched? We can only observe the results of physical actions taken by that person. And those actions depend on the conceptual definition the person chooses for their experience.
If they understand they are in love, they might buy flowers and ask the girl out. Perhaps they will become partners and eventually start a family.
If they believe they are bewitched — and it is the Middle Ages — they may report the girl to the Inquisition. In that case, she will likely be burned at the stake.
Nowadays, this theoretical example seems almost absurd, as only a weirdo would suspect witchcraft instead of falling in love. However, in the Middle Ages, the situation was the opposite. In the Malleus Maleficarum, a state that, nowadays, we understand as love was considered a clear sign of evil forces (especially if the girl was not attractive enough to draw the attention of a respectable man). Thus, the symbolic system one uses to conceptualise their experience is closely connected to the state of the collective unconscious (read more about this in Social archetypes in love).
Different explanations, different results
Let’s take another very common example. A person feels drained and lacking vitality. They repeatedly encounter obstacles in pursuing their plans. Life begins to feel heavy, joyless, and burdensome. What is happening? An ordinary person might call it depression. An astrologer clearly sees the involvement of Saturn. A TCM doctor might point to a deficiency of Qi in the Lungs.
Which explanation is true? We cannot know. And yet each concept leads to different actions and different outcomes. A “depression” explanation might lead to therapy (at best) or simply taking medication to dull the symptoms. A Saturnian explanation in astrology will lead to insights and a specific strategy for working through the challenge — and even the exact timing of the process. A TCM doctor may insert several needles and prescribe Zhi Wan.
We cannot say with certainty what is truly happening to a person — or, as Buddhist traditions suggest, whether there is anything “real” behind these processes at all. We can only perceive their manifestations through the lens of our conceptual system. Yet the way we conceptualise these experiences leads to completely different consequences, some of which may feel more or less pleasant. And in certain cases, the difference between two interpretations becomes so profound that it can determine matters of life and death.
Conclusion
Now let’s move to the most important conclusion: since our actions and their results depend on the symbolic language we use to conceptualise our experience, we can consciously work on our symbolic framework by adopting new ways of seeing reality and expanding our worldview.
Astrologically speaking, this process is symbolised by the 9th House and has traditionally been associated with education and travelling. Nowadays, however, neither universities nor travelling will necessarily expand one’s consciousness (thanks to the materialistic scientific paradigm and the capitalist tourism industry). So the author suggests relying instead on old traditions such as Taoism, Buddhism, Western Astrology, or anything else you feel connected to.
In this article, I describe the three important parameters of a good symbolic system. Check it out.
