A month or so ago, David Knowles, a writer I love to read, asked me to write something about knowing, after I had written this in a short Note about an earlier piece:
Somewhere between the fort-town of Facts and the river of Knowing is a meadow where I gather leaves of wild faith.
I was making notes, mulling it over, as you do, when a friend died. Washed downstream into a gully of grief, several of us swam together and kept each other afloat. Now, on the banks of that peaty force, I sit to regather my thoughts and find them changed. I cannot write about epistemology1, not only because I have not read the requisite books, but also because I do not keep a kenning that could be culled and flayed thus.
So, I will describe some of the different ways I ever know anything, (if I ever do), as I have never tried to list them in words. Perhaps it will chime with how you know what you know.
Then, I will speak of a recent long moment spent outside time with my pack.
This piece was first published here on Substack on 25th March 2024, with full transcript, more images, links and footnotes.
Episode 64: Rivers of Knowing