The Light of Inquiry
- Grant Goulet
- Oct 10, 2021
- 3 min read
Updated: Oct 12, 2021

I have fond childhood memories of bedtime with my Dad, looking up at the duck-themed wallpaper border that wrapped around my room. It was in these moments that we’d sometimes try to bend our minds around the mysteries of the Universe. We enjoyed considering questions like “What’s at the edge of the universe; is it like a wall? If it does end, what’s it inside of? And what was here before it?”. While we couldn’t possibly have understood the enormity of the questions we were addressing, these discussions fueled, or perhaps ignited, my fascination with the great existential questions pondered across millennia.
The search for “answers” has taken many direct and indirect forms throughout my life—from an enthusiasm for cosmology, as described by Stephen Hawking, Kip Thorne, and Sir Roger Penrose; into formal study of Astronomy & Astrophysics in college; to the “new atheist” movement led by great thinkers like Sam Harris, Richard Dawkins, and Christopher Hitchens.
As it will, the momentum of societal conditioning, espousing the value of linear progress and success, tamped down these more contemplative tendencies and carried me through graduate school and into the professional working world. Superficial distractions—a big house filled with nice things, travels to interesting destinations, and an enviable job title—further blurred these innate interests, while, all along, nudging me to where I needed to go.
Like many have discovered before, the utility of these conventional pursuits is not to be found in the desires they fulfill, but in the psychological suffering that accompanies the long hours, the neglected loved ones, and the accumulation of “stuff” and the corresponding realization that external success—as it’s been defined for us—will never be the source of contentment and fulfillment.
Suffering, as used herein, refers to the First Noble Truth of Buddhism: Life is suffering (Sanskrit: duhkha). This is suffering brought about through self-frustration—a uniquely human capability that’s come along for the ride as we’ve evolved greater degrees of neurological complexity. There is no external life circumstance that can end the incessant desire, attachment, and negative thought-patterns that plague our minds and lives. Sure, there is momentary respite when one want is satisfied, but, given a brief period of time, a new one (or several) takes its place within our internal narrative (i.e., the classic “hedonic treadmill”).
What can result from this process, however, is a point of ultimate frustration and a letting go of the effort sustaining the illusion.
It was this inflection point, for me, combined with the wisdom of spiritual teachers, that lead to a 180-degree shift in the direction of inquiry. That is, the foundational questions about the nature of reality, of Being itself, never pointed to a world “out there” for answers, but, rather, to an exploration and Knowing of the inner world of the Self. Shinning the light of inquiry inward and asking “Who is searching? What is this? Who am I?” had a profound impact on my life situation from that point forward; a taste of awakening, you might say.
Simultaneously the beginning and the end.
This site is a product of that insight, of that turning inward. A place to explore the never-ending project of awakening to Who We Are and what This is all about.
The writings to follow will typically be brief, informal, and works in progress. They will be free of footnotes and academic references (except where necessary), as the contemplations herein are of the perennial wisdom throughout traditions and philosophies; not ideas belonging to any one individual. There will, however, be plenty of quotations and suggested readings, should you want to go deeper. It’s also important to note that several topics addressed are of the ineffable variety, and, thus, any use language and concepts already misses the mark. Take these, instead, as pointers to truths beyond the words, above thought.
As they say in Zen: don’t confuse the pointing finger for the moon. Or, a more modern take: don’t mistake the menu for the dinner.
Welcome to Awake, A Project.