Abhinavagupta paints consciousness (cit) as the ever-present stage upon which every thought, emotion and sensation performs. Rather than a passive witness, this cit is dynamic, self-reflective energy—Śakti—that dances through creation. In his sprawling Tantra­loka, the individual ātman is not some isolated speck lost in the void, but a direct spark of the universal Self, Paramashiva. This indivisible ground underlies both subject and object, stitching together inner experience and outer world in a seamless web.

The heart of Kashmir Shaivism’s take on ātman lies in its non-dual vision. Every act of knowing, feeling or willing is a contraction and expansion of God’s own play (līlā). Abhinavagupta uses the metaphor of a mirror: consciousness reflects its own brightness in myriad forms, yet remains untouched by the images it holds. Modern neuroscience debates—like Integrated Information Theory or the Global Workspace model—mirror this ancient insight by insisting that awareness is more than neural chatter; it’s the holism behind all data.

A striking feature of Tantra­loka is the Spanda doctrine: cosmic vibration. Just as social media buzzes with constant updates, reality pulses through subtle throbs of awareness. The Self is both the silent witness and the vibrant energy that animates every heartbeat and thought-wave. Liberation, then, isn’t about escaping mind or matter, but recognizing that the knower, known and knowing are three petals of the same lotus.

Current dialogues—whether at AI ethics summits or brain-mapping conferences—often circle back to a question Kashmir Shaivism settled long ago: can consciousness ever really be “explained”? Tantra­loka answers by shifting the goalpost. Genuine realization arises not through carving awareness into pieces, but by resting in its full-bodied presence. Peeling back the layers of conceptual thought reveals not emptiness, but an ocean of blissful luminosity—the timeless Self at the core of every fleeting moment.