Monday Aphorism: Illusions of Familiarity

Much of life’s “settling-down” is concerned with the sense that we know much about what is merely familiar.

The sun’s each day rising, the fall to sleep to dream, the ordinariness of my right hand’s writing – all deeply mysterious and puzzling – have disappeared into some illusions of familiarity.

What is usual or regular turned into a sense of pseudo-knowledge, telling me to tell myself I know something that I really do not know, or even understand very well.

About many things I think and trust – I know a fair amount. About some others – I puzzle. But many remain in some place of my knowing which have passed from puzzle to what I do and see every day, and occur… merely, with no notice.

How clear is my knowing; how do I remember to wonder about what has receded from any problematic, having entered those parts of mentality no longer in view of viewing?

How do I exercise, peruse what knowing I am and have, to reflect upon what knowledge is secure, and what is not so knowing, having passed into the illusions of familiarity?