Why the soul needs no explanations

In today’s world, we encounter more and more so-called spiritual teachers who attempt to explain complex, non-material realities from their own perspective. Often, their backgrounds are shaped by profound personal experiences: severe illnesses, accidents, near-death experiences — events that have led them to what they call enlightenment.
Based on these personal journeys, they develop their individual views of the spiritual world and seek to share them with others.

However, in this article, we do not intend to focus on the spiritual teachers themselves. Instead, we invite you to look deeper and ask a more fundamental question: Who actually needs these explanations?
Why is there such a widespread attempt to put the invisible, the abstract, the spiritual into words and make it tangible?

The answer leads us to an essential insight: it is our mind that demands explanations.
One might say it is a part of our ego — although different traditions interpret this differently. What is certain, however, is that our rational mind seeks comparisons, patterns, and explanations to find orientation. In contrast, the soul needs none of this. The soul exists in knowledge, in being, beyond words and concepts.

This realization forms the foundation for the reflections that will follow: about the limitations of language, the pitfalls of specialization, the individuality of perception — and the great importance of recognizing and trusting our own inner teacher.

Why Do We Seek Explanations for Spiritual Realities?

Our mind is a remarkable tool that helps us navigate the material world, recognize structures, and find our way through what appears to be an orderly universe. However, when it comes to the realms of spirit and the unseen, the mind inevitably reaches its limits.

Nevertheless, the mind persistently seeks explanations. It wants to understand what lies beyond the visible, to organize, to label, to compare, and to systematize. In a way, the mind feels uneasy in the face of the incomprehensible — and thus tries to fit the ineffable into familiar patterns.

One could say: this need for explanation does not arise from the soul, but from the mind — from our rational, analytical faculties, and perhaps even from a manifestation of the ego. The soul, by contrast, has no such need. It exists in pure knowledge, in pure being, beyond words and intellectual constructs.

Here lies one of the great misunderstandings: many people believe that through understanding, through the intellectual grasp of spiritual principles, they will come closer to their soul. Yet in truth, we come closer to the soul not by explaining, but by letting go of the need to explain.
The more we try to frame the spiritual in words, the further we often stray from its true essence.

Explanations are tools for the mind, bridges for the transition — but they are not the destination. True recognition begins where the mind falls silent, and the soul speaks in its own language: silently, directly, beyond all concepts.

Language as an Inadequate Tool

Human language is a fascinating instrument that allows us to share thoughts, emotions, and experiences. It forms the foundation of our communication and cultural life. However, when we attempt to use language to describe the abstract and the spiritual, we encounter a fundamental limitation: language is inherently limited.

Words are symbols created to name concrete aspects of the material world. They can describe shapes, explain movements, recount events. Yet the deepest truths of the spiritual realm — those that exist beyond space, time, and form — resist precise verbalization.
At best, we can hint at them, circle around them, or capture them in metaphors — but we can never fully express them through words.

The more specialized and detailed our linguistic descriptions become, the more we often move away from the true essence of what is essentially indescribable.
We fragment the infinite into small mental constructs that provide the mind with a sense of order but hardly do justice to the true nature of the spiritual.

A good example of this is the term “Matrix,” which entered the spiritual discourse after the release of the film by the same name. Phrases like “escape the Matrix” now fill countless books, videos, and social media posts.
Yet even such terms are nothing more than specializations — attempts to explain the ineffable from a particular perspective.

Once we recognize this, we can approach spiritual language more consciously: as a hint, as an invitation to inner experience, but not as absolute truth.
For the language of the soul remains the language of silence — one that exists beyond all words.

The Illusion of a Universal Perspective

When we look around the spiritual community, we encounter many terms, models, and theories that seem to claim universal validity. The term “Matrix” is just one example. After the release of the film by the same name, “Matrix” became a symbol for an illusory world from which one must supposedly escape. Countless videos, books, and posts have been dedicated to this idea — and yet, upon closer inspection, all of this remains merely an individual specialization.

Every explanation, every model is based on a particular perspective. And that perspective is nothing more than the subjective perception of an individual or a small group.
Our perceptions are shaped by our life stories, cultural backgrounds, personal experiences, and internal structures.

It is therefore not surprising that we all experience and interpret the same reality in very different ways — so different, in fact, that we might even say: each person lives in their own reality.

What does this mean in relation to spiritual teachings?
It means that every so-called truth presented to us from the outside is, at its core, a story from another world — a world that may overlap with ours but can never be completely identical to it.

When we try to base our own development on the explanations and models of others, we risk being led away from our own path.
For our inner teacher, our own soul, speaks to us individually — in a language perfectly attuned to our personal reality.

Recognizing that every explanation is simply one of many possible perspectives protects us from blindly following someone else’s map, a map that may not fit our own terrain at all.
It encourages us instead to dive deeper into our own experience and to develop the courage to trust our inner guidance.

The Individual Journey

Each person carries within them a unique inner path — a journey perfectly tailored to their soul, their experiences, and their stage of development. This path does not follow a universal blueprint and cannot be measured against the experiences of others.

In truth, each of us has our own inner teacher.
This inner teacher knows exactly where we are on our journey, what steps are necessary for us, and which experiences we must have in order to grow. No external teaching, no matter how well-intentioned, can replace this inner compass.

When we try to adopt another person’s reality — even if that person acts with the best intentions — we risk distorting our own development. We might stray from our individual path and miss vital inner experiences that are meant uniquely for us.

Sometimes, insights that are profound revelations for one person may already be obvious truths for us — or they might not become relevant until a much later stage of our journey.
What good are the textbooks of a fifth-grader if we are already in the eighth grade? Perhaps they offer a reminder, perhaps a review — but they will not truly move us forward in our current learning.

Essentially, each person writes their own textbooks — personal, unique, and intended only for themselves. These inner books grow and unfold with every experience, with every step we take on our path. And they are the most precious material for our development because they arise from direct, lived knowledge.

Becoming aware of this truth grants us a profound sense of freedom: the freedom to follow our own inner voice and to recognize our own inner wisdom as our most trustworthy guide.

Problematic Dynamics Among Spiritual Teachers

As we delve deeper into the world of spiritual teachers, we often notice a recurring pattern: many begin their teachings by criticizing or diminishing the teachings of others. Sometimes this is done subtly, sometimes quite openly, with the underlying message: “Others are wrong — my explanation is the right one.”

This dynamic is problematic — not only because it fosters a spirit of competition where there should be collaboration and mutual inspiration, but also because it is based on a fundamental misunderstanding: Every spiritual insight is deeply individual and can never be universally applicable to everyone.

Moreover, we all stand at different stages of development.
A person at a particular stage on their path will perceive topics, ideas, and revelations differently than someone walking a different path or standing on another level.
What appears revolutionary and life-changing to one person may seem trivial or already well-known to another — and vice versa.

This is why it is so important to recognize:
The experiences and insights of others can indeed inspire us — but they are not automatically transferable to our own journey.
What good are the revelations of someone who may be standing at a completely different point on the path?
What use are elementary school textbooks when we are already preparing for graduation exams?

True spiritual growth does not mean blindly following the maps of others. It means drawing our own map — with respect for the paths of others, but with deep trust in our own inner guidance.

Conclusion

In a world full of voices, teachings, and explanations, it is easy to get lost in external knowledge. Every spiritual teacher, every theory, every perspective is merely an attempt to make the invisible somewhat tangible — each from their own individual viewpoint.

But if we look deeper, we realize:
True understanding does not arise from collecting external explanations but from quietly connecting with our own inner knowing.
Our mind seeks explanations. Our soul, however, seeks experience, being, and immediate truth.

Language, helpful as it may be, remains a limited tool when it comes to expressing the infinite. Every specialization, every explanation distances us slightly from the direct experience of spiritual reality.

Thus, the key does not lie in constant comparisons, evaluations, or adopting the maps of others, but rather in trusting our own inner teacher.
Each of us writes our own Book of Life.
And this book — the book of our personal experiences, insights, and growth — is the most precious treasure we possess.

Let us learn to hear, amidst the multitude of external voices, the quiet yet powerful voice of our heart.
For it knows the way better than any explanation offered from the outside.