darkness.

If you bring a lamp to a dark room, you enlighten it.

And the same thing can happen to your mind.

If light is brought to your inner darkness, then you become enlightened.

And what's the difference between being in the light and being in the dark?

In the light, you see more clearly.

An enlightened person has increased perspicuity, which just means clarity of vision, as opposed

to blurriness or blindness.

And when one's vision is clear, they more easily reach the places they set out for.

But in the dark, you may feel confused, lost, and unable to reach your goals.

The word enlightenment has this mystical connotation about it, but it actually a very grounded

and human thing.

It's simply unobstructed vision.

Think about it like this: sometimes we're born with, or develop, cataracts in our eyes.

Our vision is obstructed.

We can't see clearly.

Enlightenment is simply the removal of this obstruction.

It's a return to clear sight, and some people are just born with clear vision.

So how does someone become enlightened?

In his _Allegory of the Cave_, Plato tells a story describing the path from ignorance

to enlightenment.

Here's how it goes.

There's a cave with a few prisoners inside of it, and all of them are shackled against

a wall.

Their heads are locked in place and only allowed to look forward.

In front of them there's a wall, and behind them there's a bridge, and behind that bridge

there's a fire.

As people walk across the bridge with objects in their hands, the fire behind the bridge

casts a shadow of those objects onto the wall in front of the prisoners.

Because the prisoners have never seen anything else but these shadows, they think they are

the realest things that exist.

Even the voices they hear behind them they attribute to these shadows.

And since these prisoners have nothing better to do, they spend their life becoming experts

on these shadows.

They memorize their shapes, sequence, sounds, so on and so forth.

But one day, one of the prisoners breaks free.

He looks behind him and sees the flame, and at first it hurts his eyes.

He's not used to the light.

But instead of going back to the comfortable shadows, he allows his eyes to adjust so he

can look upon the fire.

Then he notices the objects passing back and forth in front of it, and he realizes that

they were casting the shadows on the wall.

He realizes that everything he believed about the shadows was false.

They are not the realest things.

So he makes his way out of the cave.

He steps out into the light, and again, the brightness is painful to his eyes.

But instead of going back to the comfort of his cave, he gives his eyes a chance to adjust.

First he looks at just the shadows of things.

Then he looks at their reflection in the water.

And then he looks upon the things themselves.

He starts to look at the stars in the night sky, and finally, he looks upon the sun itself,

and he realizes that it's the reason he's able to see anything at all.

Let's call this man the philosopher.

The philosopher goes back to the cave to tell the other prisoners everything that he saw,

but how can he explain it to them?

Having been in the light so long, his eyes are no longer accustomed to the dark.

He can no long distinguish between the different shadows like he used to, and as a result,

the other prisoners think he's crazy.

They think he's been ruined by his journey up to the light.

But if the philosopher gives his eyes time to adjust to the shadows once more, he can

communicate with the prisoners more clearly.

He can tell them exactly what it is that they're looking at—the actual source of those shadows.

But what good would the description be to the prisoners?

What could they really understand about things they've never really seen?

What would it mean to them?

The goal of the philosopher isn't simply to describe that which really exists, but

to get the prisoners to see it for themselves.

So what stops the prisoners from seeing the truth for themselves?

And what quality does the philosopher have that allows him to see things as they are?

Vigilance.

The philosopher's mind is _vigilant_, attentive to its own errors, always watching for potential

threats.

When the philosopher witnesses the light of truth, it initially blinds him and makes him

uncomfortable, but he's willing to overcome that discomfort.

He gives his eyes time to adjust.

And by overcoming this initial discomfort, he sees his error.

And by seeing his error as an error, he overcomes it.

And what is an enlightened mind, if not a mind that has completely freed itself of its

own errors?

And how does this differ from the prisoner's mind?

The prisoner's mind is _ignorant_, ignoring its own errors, always looking for comfort.

When the prisoner witnesses the light of truth, it blinds him and makes him uncomfortable

too, but unlike the philosopher, he chooses to go back to the world of shadows, to the

world he knows and finds comfort in.

And by refusing to be uncomfortable, he falls deeper into error.

And what is an imprisoned mind, if not a mind that has fallen deeply into error and confusion.

It's all well and good to talk about vigilance and ignorance in theory, but what do they

look like in practice?

Imagine that you see that that a friend you've had for years is actually not a real friend.

They let you down in a difficult time when you desperately needed them to come through,

when they promised they would come through.

You can go back to the old ways, to the shadows, and just pretend you're good friends despite

that, or you can face the truth.

Accept that they're just someone you occasionally hang out with and nothing more than that.

You have two choices: will you become vigilant or remain ignorant?

What will happen if you become vigilant, if you acknowledge you were wrong about them?

You'll feel uncomfortable, coming to the realization that you're not as close friends

as you thought you were.

Maybe you'll feel lonely and abandoned.

Maybe you'll wonder if you'll ever find another friend again.

But once that discomfort settles, you'll have a truer vision of reality.

You'll see that they were not your close friend and that's okay.

You start to believe that it's better to be alone than be surrounded by bad friends.

You have a better understanding of what does and doesn't make a good friend, and you can

use your new insight to find better friends, friends that come through for you in the same

way that you come through for them.

But what will happen if you remain ignorant?

If you ignore your error and stay in a bad friendship, initially, you'll feel comfortable.

You won't have to be alone, find new friends, or confront yourself.

But in the long run, you'll continue hanging out with people who are not good friends to

you.

They'll let you down again and again, and at some point, you will have to confront the

idea that they are not good friends.

And the longer you go without confronting your error, the harder it might get to confront,

and the more time you will simply waste with them.

Or perhaps, you decide to keep ignoring your errors and never get out of that friendship.

In which case, you will get to the end of your life with regret and sadness, feeling

empty and confused inside.

You will still feel lonely, let down, and like you're missing something, but you will

not know why you feel the way you do, and it's because you lied to yourself for so long

that you don't even know why you feel the way you do anymore.

But by keeping your mind vigilant and attentive to your own errors, you can begin to overcome

your errors.

And by freeing yourself of errors, you can become enlightened, which is to have sight

without error, without obstruction.

You will see the world more clearly.

But even then, your journey as a philosopher would just be starting.

Can you get others to see the light too?

It's harder than you might think.

Have you ever had to have a conversation with someone where you had to tell them something

that they really believe to be true is false?

Have you ever had to tell someone something that they don't want to hear, but you know

they have to hear if they want to move forward in life?

Something where it feels like their whole world will shatter if they hear it?

Maybe they believe they're someone that they're not.

They think they're hardworking when they're actually lazy, or they think they're nice

when they're actually really mean, or they think they're above average when they're

just mediocre.

But if you tell them this, then it will destroy their entire self-image.

The light that beams from you will be too threatening or destabilizing for them to look

at.

Maybe it is too bright for them in its full expression.

Just like you couldn't just stare at the sun when you first stepped out.

You had to learn to adjust.

You can't simply get prisoners to go from looking at the shadows to looking directly

at the sun.

Plato assures us that all hope isn't lost.

By adjusting your eyes to the shadows, you can learn to see the world as they see it

again, and from there, you can communicate to them more effectively.

You can inspire them to look towards the light, slowly, at their own pace, one step at a time—at

least the ones willing to look.

For example, maybe your friend thinks they're above-average at writing when they're really

not.

But instead of coming out and saying that, you start asking questions.

Questions that may help them naturally come to that realization.

You might say, “how would you rank your own writing?”

“Who do you think writes better than you?”

“Why do they write better than you?”

If they say no one writes better than them, you might ask, “why does no one write better

than you?

And if no one writes better than you, why do they achieve certain results that you don't?

Do you want the results that other successful writers have?

Then why not try some of the stuff they're doing?”

So on and so forth.

Through this type of questioning, you can inspire them to look at the light on their

own.

They will look at the flame first, just the same way you did.

Then walk out of the cave.

Then they will look towards the shadows, then the reflections, then eventually, the sun

itself.

They can be inspired to see clearly.

But perhaps there are some people who do not want to look at the light and adjust.

They're not motivated too.

For the guy who acquired power and status by knowing the shadows, who built his whole

life on shadows, what motivation does he have to get out of knowing the light?

Just because you enjoyed getting out of the cave, it doesn't mean others will want to

too.

Some people are too attached to the life they built on the shadows, and they are not willing

to lose that comfort.

They're too attached to what they want, and they refuse to give it up in exchange

for what they need.

So how do you become enlightened?

By keeping your mind vigilant and willing to be uncomfortable.

At some moment, you will catch a glimpse of truth, which is really just equivalent to

seeing your own errors.

You will see you are wrong about something, and that realization will make you uncomfortable,

just like the person who steps out into light for the first time.

But that's okay.

Allow yourself to sit in the discomfort.

Give your eyes time to adjust to increasing levels of light, and slowly, you will see

things more clearly.

And with clarity, you will get a better view of your potential destinations and the ways

to those destinations.

And how do you enlighten others?

Through inspiration.

By inspiring them to look at the light for themselves.

And maybe that's something we'll explore further in

a

different video.