Shiva Kali: One Hundred Fourteen

Francisco Varela's enactive cognition emphasizes precisely this—the world is not some ready-made "picture" constructed inside our heads, nor is it mere "data-stone" lying outside the mind; rather, the world is continuously "enacted" within the interactive play of body-brain-environment. The same insight appears in Śaiva philosophy through the phrase: "Cit eva viśvaṁ bhavati"—consciousness itself becomes the world. That is, what we call "world" is the continuous manifestation and self-reflection of consciousness itself.

According to Varela, enactive cognition means: "to know is to be-in-doing—to be present within the act of doing." In other words, consciousness or knowledge is not a passive thought process; rather, experience and meaning emerge precisely when a living being interacts with its environment through the interconnection of sensation and motor action. Simply put, we do not know the world merely through seeing or mental thinking—we know and construct the world through acting, through feeling.

The Krama school of Kashmir Śaivism speaks of the same idea in different language. There it is said that consciousness (cit) is not static light, but a living dance where prakāśa (the illuminating aspect or luminosity) and vimarśa (the capacity for self-recognition) unite to create a vibration (spanda). From this spanda the world unfolds progressively—sthiti (quiescent awareness), utthāna (creative movement), and laya (dissolution or transcendence of ego).

Both perspectives essentially say the same thing—experience is not something static or ready-made. It is formed moment by moment, changes, and recreates itself anew. Just as we "find" the road while walking—the road is not pre-existing; the continuity of the path emerges in the rhythm of our walking. When walking stops, the path too seems to change or disappear. Similarly, the relationship between consciousness and world is a rhythm of continuous unfolding—where knowing, doing, feeling—all form one living process.

This convergence becomes clearer through modern psychology's concept of "4E-cognition," which states that consciousness or knowledge is not merely inside the head, but a living process united with body, environment, action, and tools.

Embodied: Knowledge does not reside only in the brain—the entire body participates in knowing. Our sensations, postures, breath, heartbeat—all together create thought. Śaiva philosophy also says—the body is no obstacle; the body is the seat of śakti, the temple of consciousness. Spanda or living vibration is grasped here.

Embedded: We are not in a void; our thoughts and understanding are always embedded in environment. When context changes, thinking changes too. The Śaiva concept of kula speaks similarly—everything is interconnected like a cosmic web, where nothing exists separately.

Enactive: We know through doing—meaning is constructed through action. Not mere thinking, but action is the foundation of knowledge. The Śaiva concept of vimarśa conveys just this—consciousness recognizes itself through its own activity.

Extended: Thinking spreads even beyond our body—through language, instruments, technology, or symbols. Just as in tantra, mantra, yantra, maṇḍala—all are external extensions of consciousness; through these, consciousness expresses its own depth.

All together, both 4E-cognition and Śaiva philosophy teach that consciousness is not imprisoned in a closed room; it is a continuously flowing knowledge-process united with body, action, environment, and instruments.

Modern neuroscience says our brain does not merely work with information from the external world, but is constantly making predictions—"what the world might be like." That is, it is a kind of "prediction machine."

The brain creates in advance a kind of mental map or model—where it conceives what the world looks like, how it behaves, what might happen. Then when actual information arrives through the senses, it compares that information with its own model. If the two don't match, it realizes something has gone wrong—this mismatch is called "prediction error."

The brain then corrects that error by changing its model or conception to match reality. New information arrives again, it compares again—thus continues the ongoing cycle of "knowing and correction."

That is, the brain's work is not merely seeing or hearing—but the continuous conjecture and correction of "what I am about to see or hear." Thus knowledge is actually a kind of ongoing practice: conceiving, testing, seeing error, correcting—through this endless cycle our knowing becomes clearer and deeper.

This scientific framework shows remarkable similarity with Kashmir Śaivism's theory of 'krama,' though at a deeper existential level. Here consciousness (cit) first holds itself as possibility—non-dual, unmoving, luminous. From that possibility gradually unfolds manifestation—this is utthāna; the unfolded form leaves lasting impressions in awareness—this is sthiti; and finally those impressions dissolve back into their own possibility—this is laya. Creation-sustenance-dissolution are not three separate events; they are like the two sides of continuous breath and its pause—in prakāśa the world blazes forth, in sthiti it gains meaning, in laya meaning returns to merge with its source.

In the language of science and philosophy, what is being said here is that our knowing process works simultaneously from two directions.

The first direction is "top-down": that is, our brain or consciousness creates in advance an idea or model—what the world is like, what might happen, etc. This aspect is like Śiva—pure, silent, filled with light. He does not do anything himself, but his very presence gives direction for possibility to take form.

The second direction is "bottom-up": that is, actual information coming from the senses—what the eyes see, ears hear, touch feels, etc.—these are actually waves of śakti. Śakti here is that active vibration who brings dance to the light of static consciousness, awakening form and fragrance and sound.

When these two directions—Śiva's silent light and Śakti's moving vibration—unite, then our experience is created. This is not merely seeing external objects, nor is it merely mental imagination; but the union of these two.

Just as a river's water creates its own path through its own waves, so consciousness manifests itself through the act of knowing itself. This experience is 'prakāśa-vimarśa'—where 'prakāśa' means the radiance of consciousness, and 'vimarśa' means that radiance's awareness of itself—the awakening of the understanding "I see in this way."

In this view, Śaiva 'krama-consciousness' can be called the supreme self-model—which in its own vibration constructs the entire theater of world, language, thought and feeling, and through that very construction recognizes its own possibility moment by moment. The narrative of the prediction-process cannot therefore be called merely a neuroscientific theory; it is a epistemological shadow-reflection of the non-dual dance of Śiva-Śakti—where consciousness, world, and knowledge give birth to each other, refine each other, and finally in a gathered unity—beyond manifestation, within the heart of reflection—dissolve into motionless radiance.

Example 1—Flow State: Imagine you are playing piano. Fingers, eyes, ears—all working together in such a way that even the thought "I am playing" disappears. Actor and action remain undifferentiated, as if music itself is playing you. Neuroscience calls this transient hypofrontality—meaning, self-monitoring or the sense of "I am doing" diminishes, while bodily-sensory coordination increases. In Śaiva philosophy this could be called utthāna or spanda—consciousness's joyful movement, where light is not lost, but action flows spontaneously.

Example 2—Open Monitoring Meditation: Here you are simply observing—breath rising and falling, sounds coming and going, thoughts floating up and dissolving again. There is no attempt to grasp anything, only witnessing. Then the brain's Default Mode Network becomes quiet, "I-centered" thinking stops. This state can be called sthiti—the underlying still awareness, where consciousness rests in its own silent radiance.

Example 3—Ego Dissolution: During deep meditation or intense aesthetic experience, often it feels as though there is no separate boundary between "I" and "world." Everything merges together, only infinite peace remains. Neurologically this is called global synchrony—different parts of the brain become rhythmically coordinated together. In Śaiva language this is laya—consciousness's boundaries melting to rest in the infinite. This is not destruction, but complete union—where individual and world become one.

In Varela's language, autopoiesis means life is a continuous strategy of self-production-maintenance-reconstruction. Take a cell: the membrane is like its signature; this boundary separates it, yet this same boundary is the doorway for exchange of nutrients, energy, information with the external world. The boundary is therefore not a wall, but an intelligent filter—selectively allowing entry, selectively expelling, and through that very selection process maintaining the coherence of "who I am."

A living being is exactly like this: the internal chemical/neural networks sustain themselves while also changing their own rules, bringing new structures, shaping themselves according to environmental pressures or possibilities—such a self-generating, self-regulating dance. This is why Varela said knowing means doing—active creation/construction (enaction), because this autopoietic body/brain creates "world" while dancing with the world, and in that created world again reads and understands itself.

In Śaiva philosophy this understanding resonates as vimarśa-śakti. Cit is first soundless light—prakāśa—where possibility is immeasurable. But light alone does not make a world; light must "see" itself—this self-exploration is vimarśa: "I see in this way, I know in this way." At the touch of this self-awareness, waves arise in light—spanda—and in that spanda form, sound, time, meaning, relationship are illumined.

Here is the connection between autopoiesis and Śaiva language: just as a being maintains its boundaries while breaking boundaries—the membrane persists yet continuously renews itself—so consciousness holds its identity through self-knowledge, yet through spanda transcends that identity to play in new forms. Boundary is therefore not mere containment; boundary is the grammar of manifestation—within which vimarśa places words, and spanda gives rhythm. Thus "world" is not a static object, but a moving composition born of relationship—the meaning that existed just now changes in the next moment with new context; exactly as in the continuous unfolding of krama, utthāna-sthiti-laya continues like unceasing breath.

Cognitive science says consciousness is not confined to one place; it is the unified activity of body, brain, and environment—these three together.

First, enaction, meaning we create the world through action—by seeing, touching, doing.

Second, prediction, meaning we constantly anticipate the future—thinking "what will happen next" and preparing our responses accordingly.

Third, regulation, meaning we maintain balance between inner feelings and external changes.

These three processes together form life's fundamental strategy—maintaining our own rhythm while keeping time with the external world.

Śaiva krama philosophy speaks the same truth in more poetic language: consciousness is continuous "prakāśa-vimarśa-spanda." That is, consciousness manifests itself in light, that light turns back to look at itself (vimarśa), and in the vibration of that self-vision the world is created (spanda).