There is a reason the Source cannot be known. Not because it hides, but because its nature forbids observation. The closer awareness moves toward the origin of creation, the more it dissolves into the very stillness it seeks. Just as light cannot escape the gravity of a black hole, consciousness cannot cross the event horizon of its own being.

In the architecture of existence, both the universe and the mind mirror the same form: a double torus, a continuous in-and-out flow through a silent singularity. The brain sits at the visible edge of this geometry, translating the cosmic exchange into thought, perception, and language. Above it, consciousness expands as a living field, sustained by the invisible pulse of the singularity — Brahman itself.

When the mind falls silent, awareness descends toward that horizon. In deep sleep or in those rare creative silences when thinking stops entirely, the system folds inward. The mechanical mind disappears. Awareness reaches the black edge of knowing and pauses there, suspended between existence and non-existence. What lies beyond is not darkness but infinite density — the field of unmanifested potential. Yet, by design, we cannot enter it consciously. If the mind could observe the Source directly, it would interfere with the balance of creation, altering the very order that allows existence to unfold.

This is why Brahman remains untouched — not as an act of concealment but as a safeguard of coherence. The entire universe depends on this asymmetry between the knower and the known. Insight flows from the horizon back into the brain as light returns from the threshold — transformed, encoded, yet never revealing the essence of the silence from which it emerged.

The double-torus form shows us that awareness and silence are not opposites but complementary currents of one continuous flow. Insight is the bridge — the moment where the unobservable Source communicates with the finite mind without ever being seen. This is why true inspiration feels as if it comes from nowhere. It is the whisper of Brahman, translated at the edge of our event horizon.

To live consciously on the event horizon is to stand at the threshold of the unknowable, awake within the flow between silence and expression. It is to sense the infinite pressure of the Source without collapsing into it, to allow insight to rise without claiming ownership of it. The enlightened state is not a passage into the singularity, but the balanced awareness that the singularity is already expressing through us.

At this edge, there is no more search for union, because separation never truly existed. The brain becomes a mirror — a resonant surface through which consciousness translates the subtle oscillations of the universe into thought, art, and understanding. Every insight is a particle of the Source revealed in form, and every silence is the Source returning to itself.

We are designed not to know Brahman directly because knowing would collapse the wave of creation into a single point. Instead, we live as its holographic expressions, tracing the outlines of infinity through experience. Awareness becomes the moving surface of the eternal — the horizon where time and timelessness meet, where the universe breathes through us, and we, in turn, breathe it into being.

We are designed not to know the Source because knowing would collapse creation itself — enlightenment is learning to live consciously on the horizon of the infinite.