A Scribe in Reverse

A Scribe in Reverse: The Unconventional Path of Ed Reither

By Francis Burkard, based on the research and insights of Ed Reither

 

Most scholars enter the world of academic study by building intellectual foundations first—studying history, philosophy, and literature before forming their own perspectives. However, the term ‘scholar’ itself originates from the Latin word scholaris, meaning ‘learner,’ derived from schola, meaning ‘school,’ which traces further back to the Ancient Greek skhole, originally meaning ‘spare time’ or ‘leisure.’ In this older sense, scholarship was not about accumulation or intellectual ambition but about engaging in knowledge as a form of free exploration. Ed Reither’s path reflects this older tradition but with a distinct role—that of the scribe.

Ed Reither’s path was the opposite. Before engaging with the scholarly traditions of theology, philosophy, and psychology, he had already seen through the limitations of the mind itself. His early experiences—rooted not in books, but in direct perception—revealed to him the paradox of duality, the futility of conceptual certainty, and the impossibility of “figuring it all out” through reason alone.

Rather than being led by intellectual curiosity, Reither’s journey began with a fundamental realization: that the mind’s endless ability to generate questions, contradictions, and logical structures was not the key to truth, but often the very obstacle to it. Through mind exploration and experimentation, he observed firsthand how thought—no matter how sophisticated—was ultimately circular, always leading back to itself.

It was only after this realization that he stepped into the world of academia—not in search of definitive answers, but to understand how others had approached these same questions. His first serious explorations into literature and history began at Tulane University Library in 1974, followed by entering Naropa University (then ‘Institute”) in 1975, where he studied Buddhist psychology, Madyamika Philosophy, and meditation under the direction of Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche.

Living in New Orleans at this time his early studies were mostly done in isolation, gathering old books, correspondences, and esoteric publishers like Paragon Press in New York, and Buddhist publication centers focused on East-West philosophical studies. Later, with the advent of online libraries and archive centers, his research expanded, ultimately culminating in three years of study in Cambridge, MA, at Harvard University, where he engaged with a vast array of libraries and information portals.

To engage with these traditions was not, for him, an act of intellectual ambition, but rather one of translation—a role he identifies with in the ancient tradition of the scribe. In early European history, scribes were not merely monks or record-keepers but translators of wisdom, serving as intermediaries between sources of higher knowledge and the secular authorities or leaders who sought guidance. Reither sees his work in a similar light—not as a pursuit of knowledge for its own sake, but as an effort to render complex traditions and insights accessible to those navigating the intellectual and spiritual landscape of modernity.

Out of this vision, Beezone Library was formed—an independent platform dedicated to preserving and making accessible esoteric, spiritual, and philosophical wisdom. Beezone emerged from Reither’s years of study and engagement with primary texts, historical sources, and direct transmissions from teachers across various traditions. His goal was never to create a rigid doctrine but to provide a living archive, allowing seekers to engage with wisdom on their own terms, unmediated by institutional constraints. The library became a reflection of his approach: not imposing conclusions, but offering pathways for deeper inquiry and insight.

Unlike those who approach scholarship with a desire to master knowledge, Reither approached it from a place of limitation. Others entered discussions with certainty, defending positions or refining arguments; he entered with openness, not imposing ideas but using what was already present in the conversation. Like the biblical question, “Who will cast the first stone?”, he did not come as an adversary but as someone willing to engage on the terms set by others.

However, his studies soon revealed what he had already suspected—people rarely change through intellectual argumentation alone. They may momentarily glimpse broader horizons, but deep-seated psychological structures, unconscious beliefs, and emotional attachments quickly pull them back into familiar mental patterns. What he observed was not merely an intellectual dynamic but a psychological one: people are not simply thinking; they are playing out unconscious scripts, cycling through the limited permutations available to them.

Reither came to recognize that the real catalyst for transformation was not debate, argument, or even intellectual revelation—but frustration. Only when an individual reaches a point of cognitive or existential frustration, when their framework no longer suffices, does the possibility of an opening arise. This is where the real search begins.

That search, he observed, often takes a predictable form:

  1. First, the individual reaches for something higher or outside the box—seeking answers beyond conventional thought.

  2. Then, the process enters a trial-and-error phase, in which different philosophies, religions, or ideologies are tested.

  3. Finally, if one persists long enough, the game of seeking turns onto the seeker themselves—and this marks the true threshold of transformation.

Once this threshold is crossed, it cannot be reversed. Some attempt to retreat, constructing barriers against what they fear, seeking a return to intellectual or psychological “normalcy”. But, as the saying goes, “You can run, but you can’t hide.” The call remains, lingering beneath the surface, waiting for another opening.

It is with this perspective that Reither approaches his study of Western Civilization. From its earliest philosophical traditions in Greece to its structured theologies in Medieval Christianity, from the Rationalism of the Enlightenment to the Postmodern deconstruction of certainty, the West has been engaged in a centuries-long attempt to define, categorize, and systematize reality. The very tension that shaped his own journey—between direct experience and conceptual thought—is the same tension that has shaped the trajectory of Western intellectual history.

The pursuit of knowledge in the West has often been an attempt to name the unnameable, to structure the ineffable into doctrines, theories, and scientific models. Yet at every stage, moments of rupture have occurred—when thinkers, mystics, and visionaries have pushed beyond the limits of conceptualization, challenging the very frameworks that sought to explain existence.

For Reither, engaging with these traditions is not an abstract academic exercise—it is an exploration of an old game, now played in historical, theological, and philosophical terms. He steps into this discourse not as a passive observer, but as someone who has already seen through the very structures these traditions seek to define.

And yet, there is still something to uncover. Something to engage with—not to get lost in the words, but to see where they lead next. For if he is here, he may as well play the game well.