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Audio Essay: Emptiness as the Center

The center is a crucial element of every composition. The central motif, the central pillar, the center of focus. In everyday language, when we try to explain the concept of a center, we are guided by the logic of position. The center is a location. However, that same center can also be explained through its content. In terms of content, the center differs drastically from what surrounds it. It is not merely in the middle – it is different.

It is precisely this difference of the center – its ontological, not just geometrical nature – that this text attempts to articulate. Through examples from spiritual practice, psychological dynamics, and philosophical thought, we will explore the idea of the center not as a place, but as emptiness – and not just any emptiness, but a positive, functional, and ontological one.

Something about Silent Retreats and Depression – and How They Relate to the Center

On Silent Retreats

The concept of a silent retreat intrigued me from the very beginning. I first encountered it more intimately through the lectures of Alan Watts, where he mentions Hindus who abandoned everyday life, went into the forest and solitude, and practiced active forgetting of language to reconnect with their own (instinctive) nature. He describes how these people killed off their “individuality” and functioned entirely spontaneously, fully surrendering to the inertia of context. Although I cannot fully grasp this idea, I can to some extent identify with that state of consciousness.

Years ago, when I first learned that language is not acquired like other sciences, but rather that we are preprogrammed for linguistic adoption, I had an epiphanic realization: that without language, I would fully immerse into my animal being. My assumption at the time was that, stripped of language, I would be reduced to basic instinctual impulses – hunger, fear, sexuality, primal movement.

Silence Before Meaning

Pre-conceptual thought, or the “house of being,” as Heidegger would call it, is the ontological site that precedes all language. It is a state of consciousness that is unarticulated, unexpressed in words, and thus hard to describe. It’s difficult to speak about this “house of being” because it is, in essence, non-contentual in the classical sense – it contains no images or words, only the potential of form.

Plato, in his theory of ideas, mentions the “Idea of Differentiation.” This idea is the foundational law by which things, in their deepest structure, differ from one another. On the conscious level of the ego, we perceive this difference through comparative analysis of content. But Plato would argue that the “Idea of Differentiation” is not necessarily content-based, but logos-based – that it exists beneath existence, before manifestation. It doesn’t distinguish by what, but by how.

Silence as Method

In my view, silent retreats trigger something I would call artificial depression – and in doing so, they help people. As strange as that may sound, I will try to explain what I mean.

Depression as a Corrective

As I’ve moved through life, I’ve reached one conclusion. Depression – and here I don’t mean clinical depression, but the common, existential kind we all face from time to time – emerges as a consequence of poorly constructed systems of value and meaning. As human beings, we have a natural need to orient our existence through a value system. However, being imperfect, we often make mistakes in that delegation. Depression arises as a corrective mechanism.

In other words, depression is the negation of a value system. When we are depressed, nothing holds meaning or value. We become indifferent to both the external and internal world. I believe this is how the subconscious protects the whole from the errors of consciousness. When consciousness loses orientation, the subconscious revolts – radically:
“If you cannot establish values correctly, I (the subconscious) will return you to ground zero – where nothing has value, and nothing has meaning.”

That moment of total meaninglessness is what I call the starting point. In that emptiness, new meaning can be built. Without it – no true reconstruction is possible.

How Do Silent Retreats Lead to This State?

At the core of the silent retreat is non-linguistic experience. The idea is not to speak with others, not to write anything down, and – as much as possible – not to talk to ourselves either. Since our value delegation is primarily linguistic, the silent retreat introduces a complete counterpoint – a non-linguistic marking of reality.

What happens then?

Individuals begin to feel mood shifts, bodily sensations, spontaneous impulses, emotions without narrative. Neuroses, or repressed complexes, which were previously fenced off by language and thus kept under control, are now unleashed. Language no longer acts as a barrier – and the repressed comes to consciousness. These manifestations are not necessarily pleasant – often disturbing – but they are liberating.

The experience that follows is cathartic. The silent retreat, as a non-linguistic mechanism, provides a moment of release from the rigid constructs language often cements. Complexes can then emerge, no longer as unspoken problems, but as living beings, bodily experiences, images, intuitions.
The individual, in this non-linguistic space, leaves an empty center of focus – like a vessel. That emptiness is not nihil – but a functional ontological emptiness. Something ready to receive what has not yet arrived.

The Configuration of Central Value

A central value must have a negating nature. It must be an antithesis to everything previously held as thesis. Only in this way does the center become dynamic. And movement is life (Leonardo da Vinci).

Movement is exactly what is lacking in depression. Depression is a state of stagnation, of freezing. And a static center – whether it’s an ideology, goal, or dogma – creates a monolithic structure that limits the soul’s needs.

“Art for art’s sake,” Kant would say.

Regime art, in contrast, is impoverished political propaganda. Within it, there is nothing unpredictable, nothing unexpected, nothing magical. And the phenomenon of the soul, if it is to be likened to anything, resembles an artwork more than a political doctrine.

Corrective truth, as Heidegger would call it.

Homo Universalis, said Weininger.

Thesis and antithesis, as method.

If the center contains an intuited thesis – then truth demands an antithesis as correction. Dynamism is the ontology of the center.

Identity Through Negation

A child builds identity through negation:

“I am not my exterior,”
“I am not my parents,”
“I am not the objects I possess,”
“I am not my finger.”

Therefore, I am what remains – and that “something” I don’t know how to name. That is positive emptiness.

An adult, however, affirms their weaknesses – acknowledges errors and attempts to integrate them. They hope correction is possible in a new context. And that too is positive emptiness – a place for a future whole.

Such systems of negation confirm Heidegger, Weininger, Jung, and Buddha. Negation, when directed toward synthesis, can be a system of construction.

The spider’s web illustrates this vividly. A series of threads woven into a system, with emptiness at its center. That emptiness is not absence – but an ontologically active center. The point where the spider sits is not semantic – it means nothing – yet it holds the structure. It is an anchor point.

The Burden of Meaning

“Man must move between meaning and meaninglessness like a snake.” – Vladeta Jerotić

Guided by this quote, we can conclude that even meaning has its antithesis. Those who feel an inner need to bring all aspects of life under the umbrella of “meaning” know how burdensome that need can become. Meaning tends toward unification. It tries to subsume everything into one. This process leads toward ideas, but simultaneously drifts away from the material world, from motion, from everyday reality.

This isn’t necessarily bad – but it mustn’t become the everyday home.

Conclusion: The Center as Sacred Unknowing

The central element is not only positional but also semantic.

The irony is that this semantics is not something concrete – but a negation of semantics itself.

Sacred unknowing, the theologians would say.

Anti-knowledge, said Philemon.

The center as functional emptiness – the beginning of all meaning.

Not a place of dogma, but of openness.

Not meaning – but space for meaning.

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Audio Essay: Thesis and Anti-thesis

Freedom vs. Destiny

It’s easy to fall into the trap and assume that the opposite of freedom is an empty lack of freedom or imprisonment.

“The soul is free when it is educated.” – M. Eckhart, Goethe

On the opposite side of freedom lies a choice. The Choice is what ends freedom and reduces it to actualization. Freedom is potential (numerous) choices, and Destiny (non-freedom) is one choice.

We make this choice, or the external makes the choice for us. The illusion is of the individual assuming otherwise.

The drawing of the simplest mandala is the most illustrative example of the relationship between freedom and Destiny, potential and actualisation.

Mandala 1

A circle describing a point. The circle is an infinite series of points (choices), or an exponent of freedom, while the point in the middle represents the “singularity” of Destiny, or as Jung says, the Self.

Ref: Jung’s autobiographical sketches of daily Mandalas

Mandala 2

A circle cut in half (into two semicircles). In this mandala, the separation of the whole by the Center line is shown. Two sets, thesis and antithesis. This mandala in its simplest interpretation represents three points, connected by a straight line (alignment of three points). Thesis, Antithesis, and the Relation between. The point of relation (Center) is an exponent of the Self and the basic reference point based on which thesis and antithesis are aligned (recognized). This Mandala is the first step in the coordinate determination of the Self and the first step towards Destiny Choice.

Mandala 3

A circle describing a point, and connected by a spiral. We all want to reach the Center, and we reach it through “freedoms”. Freedoms decrease, or “purify”, in cycles, and gravitate towards the Center. The Center is the Goal and the final step.

Freedoms push, the Center pulls. Ref: Terence McKenna and the theory of time (novum).

Maturity of consciousness is needed for Destiny. Infantile awareness, as the predominant collective neurosis, complicates this form of awareness. In a Biblical sense, the Devil is dressed in “new” garments and presents himself as the most beautiful angel, freedom.

Comment:

Free will and multiverse movies

We can often interpret movies as compensatory manifestations of our collective (or personal) shortcomings. The era of superhero movies portrays a picture of individual impotence, which is somewhat understandable due to the time we live in. However, multiverse movies provide a more interesting compensation. Compensation for the lack of free will. By depicting endless arrays of potential scenarios and possible realities, they relativize the importance of singularity behind phenomena but provide the comfort of indefiniteness (freedom).

Individual state – How Human is greater than the Cosmos

The collective existence of indefiniteness is permissible to the Cosmos, which measures its story in billions of years, and its development has practically just begun, however, this is not a good position for the individual.

Our insignificance in years, on the other hand, offers us a solution.

Every story consists of three constituents: Beginning, Middle, and End. These constituents make up the story of the Cosmos as much as they make up the story of a single Human. Although our experience of the Cosmos is of something almost Infinite, although we feel practically frightened by this magnitude, there exists in us another feeling of greatness standing as opposition to this fear. That greatness is the greatness of hypothetical inner infinity, which is as great as the external infinity, only its miniature representation.

Both infinities stand in a parallel, balanced relationship. However, while the external Infinity will potentially need hundreds of billions of years to reach the “Middle” of its Story, inner Infinity has the advantage of accelerated development.

Wrong unit of measurement (reference)

“So the World works, so will I,” is the basic fallacy. The “World” has time. The World is part of the Cosmic narrative.

The entirety of our story (beginning – middle – end) is written and played in about 100 years. All chapters, all transformations, all conceptualizations, all actualizations, all archetypal representations.

The differences between the beginning and the middle, as well as the middle and the end, are evident. These are differences between the young and the mature, the mature and the wise. It is also evident that the world is still in the infancy of its teenage years. This child is not an ethical-aesthetic norm, but merely a reference to the stage of development. A reference to the collective antithesis, which is at the beginning of development and will need much more time to mature.

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Introduction: Architecture as a Medium for Human Experience

Architecture is far more than the creation of physical spaces; it operates as a profound medium that speaks to the deepest aspects of the human psyche. This language of space interacts with our archetypal and symbolic structures, shaping our emotions and behaviours in ways that often transcend our conscious understanding. Through the careful manipulation of these elements, architecture can evoke powerful emotional responses, as explored in The Grammar of Taste, where the interplay between spatial design and culinary flavours is examined as a form of linguistic expression. Here, the architect becomes a storyteller, crafting narratives through space that resonate with the collective consciousness.

This concept finds practical application in the creation of spaces that are not only functional but meaningful. Consider, for example, how the integration of symbolic elements within a design can elevate a space from mere utility to a vessel of emotional and intellectual significance. This approach is evident in projects that draw from mythological and cultural archetypes, which help to root the space in a context that speaks to the universal human experience. Such projects go beyond aesthetics, engaging with the very fabric of human existence to create environments that touch the soul.

The Role of Identity in Architectural Design

In an increasingly globalized world, where cultural expressions risk becoming homogenized, architecture emerges as a vital tool for preserving and expressing local identities. The design of spaces that reflect and reinforce cultural archetypes not only preserves heritage but also fosters a deep sense of belonging and identity among their users. This is particularly important in contemporary architecture, where the challenge is to balance modern innovation with the preservation of cultural distinctiveness.

Projects that successfully integrate these elements offer more than just physical spaces; they provide a means of connecting individuals to their cultural roots and fostering a collective identity. The Story of Oshun, for instance, serves as a poignant example of how one cultural symbol can find translation into modern design. Here, the space becomes a living embodiment of cultural memory, allowing users to engage with their heritage tangibly.

This approach aligns with the broader philosophical stance that architecture should not merely reflect the needs of the present but also serve as a bridge to the past, grounding communities in their historical and cultural contexts. By doing so, architecture can help to counteract the forces of cultural erasure, offering a platform for the preservation and celebration of local identities in a globalized world.

Architecture as a Social Critique

Architecture’s role extends beyond the physical and cultural; it also serves as a powerful tool for social critique. Through innovative designs that challenge conventional norms, architecture can provoke new ways of thinking about space, society, and power dynamics. By pushing the boundaries of what is considered possible or acceptable in design, architects can create spaces that challenge societal expectations and encourage critical reflection.

This critical function becomes especially potent when architecture blurs the lines between reality and imagination, inviting us to rethink the structures that define our exterior. Such projects not only engage us on an intellectual level but also prepare the ground for a deeper exploration of how architecture can actively shape social discourse.

The J-Bridge Phantasmagoric Syntax is a prime example of this approach. As a symbol of dialogue, the bridge physically and conceptually links two sides, embodying the idea that true critique and progress are achieved not through exclusion, but through the integration of diverse perspectives. By bridging divides—whether physical, intellectual, or emotional—this project demonstrates that architecture can foster dialogue and understanding. Through its provocative and reflective spaces, the J-Bridge challenges societal norms and encourages us to reconsider our place within the built environment, illustrating how architecture can be a catalyst for social change.

The Symbolic Language of Architecture

At its most profound, architecture functions as a symbolic language that communicates the deeper truths of human existence. This language is not limited to the physical structures we inhabit but extends into the psychological and spiritual realms, shaping our understanding of ourselves and our place in the world. By imbuing spaces with symbolic meaning, architects can create environments that resonate on a deeply personal level, touching the unconscious and connecting with the collective psyche.

Theoretical explorations such as Building from Within: The Archetypal Roots of Architecture delve into how architecture can be understood as a manifestation of archetypal forces that shape human aesthetic judgment. These studies reveal how the careful manipulation of form can create movements that speak to both the conscious and unconscious mind, offering a richer and more meaningful experience of life in general.

In practice, this means that architecture can be designed not just to meet functional needs but to fulfill psychological and spiritual ones as well. Spaces that are imbued with symbolic meaning can serve as catalysts for personal transformation, helping individuals to connect with deeper aspects of themselves and their culture. In this sense, architecture becomes a powerful tool for self-discovery and personal growth, offering a bridge between the material and the immaterial, the known and the unknown.

Conclusion: The Transformative Potential of Architecture

The true power of architecture lies in its ability to transcend its material form, becoming a medium through which we explore and express the deepest aspects of human experience. This potential is vividly demonstrated in projects like Forest Ideogram, where the careful integration of natural elements and symbolic forms creates a space that resonates with the human spirit, offering a sense of peace and connection that goes beyond the physical.

As these examples show, architecture holds the potential to shape our emotions, behaviors, and identities in profound ways. By engaging with the symbolic and archetypal dimensions of design, architects can create spaces that not only serve functional purposes but also connect us to the deeper truths of our existence. In doing so, architecture becomes more than just a craft; it becomes a means of exploring and expressing the full complexity of the human experience.

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