The previous two posts in this series related to idealism and self-image. The antidote to illusion as it pertains to self-image is self-knowledge. If a false self-image is comprised of false and fanciful ideas about both the nature and preferences of the self, then a “true” self-image may reasonably be supposed to be comprised of true ideas about the nature and preferences of the self.

Such a supposition would be jumping the gun, however. Before assuming that we should be aiming to construct a more and more “accurate” self-image, we should first consider whether or not we want to maintain a self-image at all. We know that Thelema exhorts us to investigate the nature of the self so that we may discover the will – the dynamic aspect of that self – which is assumed to represent the most optimal course of action for us. To pay attention to self-image is always to pay attention to a reflection, and it would behoove us to give thought to whether such a reflection is necessary, or whether we can somehow perceive the self directly, or whether we need to perceive the self at all.

Thelema posits that the individual is prevented from obtaining self-knowledge because of restriction. Since we know that paying attention to a faulty self-image at least prevents attention from being paid to the “true” self, we can at least safely categorise a faulty self-image as just such a restriction; if, for instance, we create a self-image which downplays or represses altogether a particular characteristic of our self, then our knowledge of that self will at best be incomplete, and at worst be wholly inaccurate.

We could therefore distinguish between two possible approaches. The first would be to modify the faulty self-image into something more accurate, essentially replacing a faulty self-image with an accurate self-image. The second would be to abandon the faulty self-image, and to replace it with nothing at all. In the absence of other information, we could suppose that the second method is at least more likely to be reliable. The first method requires “fixing” an illusion, and maintaining it in a “fixed” state. Any element of that image could potentially be erroneous, and any element of that image could therefore be a restriction. Since all the elements interact, maintaining an accurate self-image would be somewhat akin to a balancing act; the smallest inaccuracy could cascade and compound itself through its connections with other elements, resulting in a very large inaccuracy. The individual would have to be constantly on his guard, and would have to expend a great deal of effort maintaining it in a “pure” state. With the second method, if we remove the faulty self-image and replace it with nothing, then we have removed altogether all the sources of error.

The question still remains, of course, as to whether this second method would be useful, even if free of error. Can knowledge about the self be gleaned without having to pass through the reflection of image? This turns out to be a false question, since if such knowledge cannot be so gleaned, then the first method must also fail, for how are we to “fix” our self-image if there is no other way of obtaining the information required to fix it? If the self-image is to be “fixed,” there must be some other way of gathering information about the self if we are to judge the accuracy of the image. If the only information we have about the self comes from the image, then we can never draw any conclusions about the accuracy of that image, since the information can only be accurate if the image is, and if the image is not accurate then we have no guarantees about the accuracy of the information it yields.

None of this answers the question of how else we gain information about the self, but it does answer the question of image; either there is another way of obtaining information about the self – in which case the image can be discarded altogether, since this is the more reliable approach – or there is not – in which case we may as well abandon the self-image in any case, since we cannot judge it to yield accurate information.

Either way, we can conclude that if we seek self-knowledge, then self-image should be discarded. Either it forms a barrier to self-knowledge, or self-knowledge is impossible. Since experience tells us that self-knowledge is possible, then for practical purposes we can conclude that self-image is a restriction to obtaining it, and seek to discard such a image. This suggests that the first steps on the road to self-knowledge consist of a negative approach, of determining what the self is not, or at least of discrediting some previously held assumptions about it. Until this is largely accomplished, any accurate information about the self will be filtered through and distorted by the image, and will be of limited use; before we can obtain self-knowledge, we must first remove the restrictions that prevent us from obtaining it.

Once the restrictions are removed, then any observation of the self in conjunction with its environment will yield reliable information about the nature of that self, suggesting that once the restrictions are removed, then self-knowledge will flower on its own accord. There may be actions that can be taken to speed the process up, but the process itself will at least proceed at some pace. Of course, the objection will naturally be raised: “won’t this ‘reliable information’ merely form itself into a new self-image? And, if not, how does one take advantage of it?” The distinction can appear subtle, but relates to the idea behind the Six of Swords, attributed to this decan. For “self-knowledge” to have any meaning, it must reside in an ultimately intellectual form, as a set of ideas which can be used to optimally guide action. How is this knowledge to be distinguished from self-image? The key difference is that self-image requires belief in order to be maintained, and this belief results from conflicts between the actual nature of the self and the value judgments made by the mind. As we have previously described, if the mind makes a value judgment against a particular characteristic, then that characteristic will be downplayed or removed altogether from the image, and vice versa for value judgments in favour of another characteristic. The self-image acts as a mechanism to avoid having to come to terms with the presence or absence of disfavoured or favoured characteristics.

With self-knowledge – as opposed to self-image – perception is not distorted by values. Values provide the incentive for the mind to distort the perceptions of the self, resulting in a faulty self-image. If values are prevented from getting in the way of perception, then it paves the way for the replacement of illusion with knowledge.

It is meaningless to talk of such knowledge being “complete,” and ultimately just as meaningless to talk of such knowledge being “accurate” as well; without complete self-knowledge, there is no way of measuring the relative accuracy of partial self-knowledge, and if we had complete self-knowledge, then our self-knowledge would not be partial in the first place. And this really gets to the heart of the problem; any attempt to equate “self-knowledge” with “self-image,” however “accurate” the latter, is doomed to failure, since it completely misunderstands the nature of this knowledge. The use of the term “knowledge” does not actually imply some deep conceptual understanding, but merely refers to the process of removing the distortion of values from the equation. We have no way of knowing whether the result is any more “true” than the illusion, and the whole term “self-knowledge” is therefore arguably a misleading one.

However, since this decan is ruled by Mercury, and Mercury relates – amongst other things – to the intellect, it is an ideal time to point out the very common mental trap behind the above reasoning. If it is impossible to know whether one state is any more true than another state, then that idea of “truth” becomes not only useless, but meaningless also, and we can happily discard it. We really do not seek “truth,” but consistency. The problem with a faulty self-image should be obvious; actions taken on the basis of it will not lead to the expected results. If our self-image incorrectly tells us that, for instance, getting married to a particular person will bring us happiness, then we will find that getting married to that person will not bring us happiness. On the other hand, if actions taken on the basis of knowledge do lead to the expected results, then we have an indication that that knowledge is at least partially reliable. Its “truth” in any kind of absolute sense is altogether irrelevant; all we are ultimately interested in is whether the actions we are contemplating will lead to the expected results, and reliably expecting the actual results is a question of having reliable information in the first place. The question of self-knowledge therefore is one of obtaining information which is as undistorted as possible, and the way to seek it is to remove all the sources of distortion of which we are aware, and in the case of self-image, this comes mainly down to the distortion of values. Self-knowledge is not, therefore, a matter of perceiving “truth,” but a matter of perceiving free from the distortion of values. This is not to say that we must discard values altogether, just that we must not allow them to influence perception.

Science – the name of the Six of Swords – is not ultimately concerned with “truth,” but with descriptive convenience, and this is the approach we should take to the question of self. Too many people confuse the first clause of Crowley’s war-cry of “The method of science – the aim of religion” as relating to the tabulation of results, or to experimentation, or to some other factors of what has become to be known as the scientific method, but the proper understanding of it is the development of the ability to perceive free from self-interest, the ability to perceive objectively, to perceive free from the distortion of values. To do this is to make the leap from perceiving what we want to be there, to perceiving what actually is there, regardless of what the metaphysical “reality” of the latter may actually be. To place any weight in the supposed “accuracy” of that perception is a mistake; instead, we focus on the method of perceiving, as far as we find possible, free from self-interest, and to let the supposed “accuracy” take care of itself.