The Inner Compass, Part 1: Perceiving the Core
By Andre Fassler
In last month’s piece, I introduced an analogy that compares perceiving, deciding, and acting to terrestrial navigation. It is intended to assist in the pursuit of fitness, health, wellbeing, etc. For the full post, click here.
In the analogy:
Possible experiences correspond to terrestrial locations.
Some artifacts function like maps: they provide descriptions of possible experiences, of their relationships to each other, or of how to actualize experiences. Some examples include instances of science, philosophy, theology, or art (these are not always mutually exclusive).
Our deepest, most personal truth serves as an "orientation" to being; this orientation of our “core” corresponds to an inner compass. With this inner compass we can skillfully navigate through the “territory” of possible experiences.
We should inform decisions about action and inaction by attuning to our core. Attunement involves perceiving, interpreting, and acting in alignment with the signals of our core. The possible experiences toward which the core signals us correspond to the inner compass’ true north.
Today, we will discuss the core itself and some matters regarding attuning to it.
What Is The Core?
In philosophy, there is often a distinction between “appearance” and “reality.” Because there is such an incredible variety of ideas about the nature of reality, there are actually a myriad of such distinctions. Not all thinkers make any such distinction. Many make it provisionally; they accept some version of it for now, but are open to eventually understanding that there is no difference between appearance and reality.
I provisionally accept a version of this distinction for reasons beyond the scope of this piece.
A brief aside: I sense this issue is amongst, if not the most fundamental, to making sense of our condition as conscious beings. Deep inquiry into truth, beauty, and goodness seems to invariably “bottom” here. Reach out if you would like to discuss it further.
The distinction I entertain is between phenomenology and ontology. Thinkers use these words in a variety of ways. Roughly, here’s how I’m conceptualizing each.
Phenomenology refers to the study of experience or being – the “structures,” patterns, and appearances of one’s consciousness (including the appearance of other beings); in a word: phenomena.
Ontology refers to the study of the ultimate nature of reality – the way things really, literally are.
So, what is the core?
Ontologically, I do not know.
Phenomenologically, the core seems to be the source of an intrinsic sense of directionality in human beings. It is possibly always already perceivable, even when seemingly imperceptible. At least sometimes, it seems possible to attune to it instantaneously and freely. Sometimes attunement seems to require time and energy.
The core appears to be a composite phenomenon. To synthesize and paraphrase the views of many thinkers, it has three components that interact: a “meaning vector,” a “tolerance boundary,” and “mode of aliveness.” Roughly:
The “meaning vector” is our sense for what we (individually, collectively, etc.) are for and what life is about.
The “tolerance boundary” has to do with what experiences one senses would be damaging.
The “mode of aliveness” refers to the conditions under which we feel free, unconstrained, and peaceful.
The core appears malleable; it can change over time. However, in at least some cases, it may be only subsets that are changeable.
Change at this level of our being appears to require profound influences. These may be sudden events or prolonged dynamics. The course of a human life typically includes at least a few such influences. Think of experiences that change our sense of who we are, the felt delineation between self and other, what the point of life is, what is perceived to be emotionally or psychologically damaging, etc. Think of events like births, deaths, epiphanies, traumas, cataclysms, etc. Think of lengthy processes like tribulations, healing, edification, or spiritual growth.
Perceiving the Core
“Your vision will become clear only when you look into your heart. Who looks outside, dreams; who looks inside, awakens.” – Carl Jung
As a matter of experience…
The core seems to appear as various forms of experience.
Human perception can be conceptualized in many ways. According to one, there are four registers of “knowing”: sensation, feeling, thinking, and intuition. The core can appear in all of these registers.
For example:
A sensation of tension or release.
A feeling of excitement or guilt.
A thought that evinces understanding.
An intuition to “move” one way rather than any other or to withhold “movement.”
A note about intuition: intuition appears psychologically participatory in a way that the other ways of knowing are not. It seems not only a sense of knowing, but also an act of agency.
As George-Harold Jennings states,
“Intuition moves in a different direction altogether [from sensation, thinking, feeling]...Intuition is inherently directional…it concerns itself with the movement of things capturing a sense of their emergence and their direction. It recognizes origin and what is forming beneath the surface of the present moment: the patterns not yet visible, the trajectories already underway, the future implicit in what is now. Through intuition, the psyche does not merely register reality – it participates in its unfolding“ (Jennings, 2026, para. 17).
In general, it seems that experiencing the core associates strongly with certain phenomenal qualities. These can include a heartfelt reaction disproportionate to the circumstances (pleasant or unpleasant), stability of an enlivening intention despite successes or failures, a profound peace in the wake of some choice, resolution, or action, or an urge to generously give or create.
The most valuable information for navigating life always already exists in each of us. Maps can and often try to describe this truth; to point us toward our core. Maps can even help to guide us into it. Yet, for the core to offer us its invaluable guidance, we must connect with it. Engaging with maps can never amount to engaging with our actual core. To achieve this, we must persistently choose to connect with psychological openness.
Challenges in Perceiving the Core
Attuning to our core can often seem challenging. Its signals can seem a challenge to interpret and accept. Two common dynamics of challenge are unclarity and unpleasantness. Due to one or both, the core can seem obscured, shielded, veiled, shrouded, obfuscated, occluded, or negated.
Unclarity
One set of reasons for unclarity is that the core is critically influenced in early childhood. As such, we are unlikely to vividly remember certain important past events and dynamics that inform our core. Similarly, this influence occurs before linguistic fluency or mature cognition; there was no conceptualization or articulation while the impact was fresh.
Unclarity can also be due to not being fully open to our core. Such chronic closure may occur because of teachings, learnings, or instincts. This can happen for many reasons and at any age.
Others sometimes abuse us for the expressions of our core, so we learn to hide it deeply (sometimes, even from ourselves).
Certain content under certain psychological conditions may be too much for us to bear. Our minds sometimes protect themselves from these potentially dangerous disruptions to the psyche.
Ideology or worldview can rupture our connection to our core. Origins can be intentional or unintentional, offered or forced, ill-meaning, well-meaning but short-sighted, mostly skillful or unskillful, etc.
Spiritual immaturity seems to associate with a tendency to close to our core. The reasons for this are difficult to conceptualize and articulate.
Provisionally define “spiritual practice” as the practice of loving. Suppose we are always already capable of realizing we can choose to be loving beings. Further, suppose we would prefer to choose to be loving.
Then, why wouldn’t we naturally be loving, spiritually mature? And why would not being mature in loving result in tending to close to our core? I suspect the answer to both these questions is fear. While our fear conditions us more than our love, we will close to the part of us that calls us to live fully, to risk ourselves (emotionally, physically, etc.) in the interest of growing or “relocating” to new lives.
Since our initial condition in life is to be new to feeling fear, even though we may be naturally loving beings, we will initially be challenged to love in the face of fear. Perhaps ironically, only by opening to and loving ourselves and others through fear, can we ensure we will grow in our loving.
Unpleasantness
For all of us, perception of our core can seem unpleasant. When unpleasant experiences occur, we usually react with aversion: we avoid unpleasant experiences. When they exceed our capacity to open to or stay present with them, we close.
However, there is more than unpleasantness when opening to such experiences. Increasing our capacity to love ourselves and others through unpleasantness offers goods that not doing so does not. It begets meaningful connection, essential growth, wisdom, critical freedom, and so much of what constitutes wellbeing. The net experience over time of closing to our core and our lives is experientially negative. The net experience over time of opening to our core and our lives is experientially positive.
It seems that there is a remedy to any tendency to close. It is to grow towards greater presence with the very experiences that associate with our closing. Such a path can be profoundly unpleasant. Indeed, it involves opening to the whole reality of our lives, much of which is (or can be) unpleasant. This can seem a daunting prospect, an arduous process. Yet, the fruits of opening to our core and our lives will show the unpleasantness is worth experiencing.
This process is not exclusive to relatively less pleasant human lives. Even in the most pleasant lives, increasing our capacity to open to unpleasantness is necessary. This is because there are always sources of unpleasantness in human consciousness (as it currently varies). Living involves navigating risks. Navigating these risks entails some unpleasantness. As we are, living guarantees fear. Living virtually guarantees physical and psychic injury. Birth, as yet and likely always, guarantees death. Growing towards greater acceptance of this circumstance is necessary to stably connect and act from our core.
Most contemplatives, spiritual leaders, philosophers, and wise people contend it is better to live open-heartedly. They advise embracing life’s pains rather than closing our hearts to ourselves and the world. This involves cultivating courage in vulnerability. It means not shying away from the jeopardy of life. To the extent I have sampled the options, I unequivocally agree.
When attuning to the core is a challenge, we can each ask ourselves as often as we must: is what I want worth at least this much?
Until Next Time
What sensations, feelings, thoughts, or intuitions do you notice there is “closing” from?
Have you experienced any of these recently? Or any experience that fits with the set?
A heartfelt reaction disproportionate to the circumstances. Pleasant or unpleasant.
Stability of an enlivening intention despite successes or failures.
Profound peace in the wake of some choice, resolution, or action.
An urge to generously give or create.