Is mystery dependent on me thinking of mystery?
It is a safe bet.
For when what is central is knowledge, then I can only become aware of mystery if upon something new or unknown.
Thus, mystery is not knowledge, but the lack of it.
Mystery is ignorance.
Thus, my meditation is rather reflection on ignorance,
As if I'm trying to better describe ignorance, or find a way out of ignorance with only the experiential.
I think of mostly consciousness and the universe here, in terms of my and humanity's ignorance of them.
Not only am I limited by my own understanding but also the understanding of others, however much they are even more intelligent than me.
I see others working on problems that have proven to not solve the mystery, the mystery being ignorance.
The only thing that could solve it is omniscience.
Then it follows that what I'm really trying to solve is omniscience.
"Infinite cognition" as the Buddha put it.
Even if a person could have omniscience, it would be colored by how they can make sense of reality.
Knowledge would take the form of what is most familiar.
Thus, when wondering about a question as to what is pi, they may say about 3.14.
The answer conditioned on how people and the omniscient one would have the capacity to hear.
Maybe this seems more like intuition.
But omniscience would denote the person as a speaker, yet only allowable to speak as what was conducive for everyone's best.
This is how Baha'is look at Manifestations of God: only allowed to share a certain amount at a time.
Just as the Son said "I have many things to share with you, but you cannot hear them now".
Still their capacity would be limited to what they themselves were interested in.
For one who is marginalized and oppressed or even thronged by multitudes, often has no willingness to delve deeply into subject matter, it causing some to stray from a correct path.
Since fractal systems work strongest in more diverse settings, it would seem that the very thing that makes it strong also makes its capacity to hear weak.
Omniscience therefore, if given to only a few, has a limited range of effect.
But even this limited range would change the entire system.
As Baha'u'llah calls His followers "the leaven" and the Son calls His followers "the salt".
"Many are called but few are chosen" seems derogatory in a world where "ye are all the leaves of one tree".

World consciousness almost arose to love tonight, but the lover ensared it in his anger once again.
If I close my ears to them, will it go away?
If they close my ears to me, will I go away?
Strength in the diversity of parts.
Strength really meaning pain.
E Pluribus Unum.

In theory reductionsim,
I would say that what is central to contemplation is mystery.

It seems like I'm a genius when I'm searching and finding answers so that I can figure out problems.
Also, when I'm asking questions it feels this way.
But when I'm pondering The Mystery I always feel inadequate.
When I'm trying to skim my mind for a metaphor for an unknown part of the universe, it is like my imagination has to solve for both X and Y.

Getting help with an answer can often remove any need to think.
Except the need to think about how I could remember how to solve it the next time.
Often I've unknowingly believed that there is a disjunction between common sense and reasoning because I've believed that my common sense was no help.
In reality it was just a lack of communication between common sense and reason.
Learning helps the brain communicate within itself.
It is not merely learning more, but the ability not just to see connections, but communicate them.

What can I say that I've broken the Baha'i Fast so that I won't be overly anxious on a busy day at the restaurant?
Using my arms and back to wash dishes.
Tactile placement of the feet around co-workers.
Remembering every detail needed for deliveries.
Baha'u'llah has exempted heavy labor from the Fast.
I couldn't do my work without constant water and a store of calories.
But what of smoking on work days?
What would God think?
The fact that I'm overly anxious at work without them has made me know how addicted I am.
So anxious as to question whether I should quit work.
"Don't do that to me again," my body tells itself, "last night was too much anxiety to simply be without smokes."
I suppose my soul will go to a tier of the afterlife where people are addicted to cigarettes.