The Cloud of Unknowing is a letter of spiritual direction written by an unnamed fourteenth-century English monk to a younger person who has felt called to the prayer of contemplation. The opening chapters describe four degrees of Christian life, Common, Special, Singular, and Perfect, and present the book as guidance for someone whom God has drawn from the ordinary life toward the solitary and contemplative one.
The central instruction is a way of prayer that lays aside thinking. The writer tells the reader to lift up the heart to God with a meek stirring of love and to mean God himself, not any of his gifts. At the first attempt the reader finds only darkness, a cloud of unknowing that stands between the soul and God. The advice is not to flee this darkness but to remain in it, crying after the God one loves.
Alongside the cloud above the soul, the writer sets a cloud of forgetting beneath it. All creatures, all their works, and even good and holy thoughts about God's kindness and Passion are to be pressed down under this cloud of forgetting during the work. The reason is not that such thoughts are wrong, but that in this contemplation any thought, however holy, comes between the soul and God and must be let go.
The book is clear that this is the work of love, not of intellect. Of God himself no one can think, the writer says, for he may well be loved but not thought; by love he may be gotten and held, but by thought never. So the contemplative is told to smite upon the thick cloud of unknowing with a sharp dart of longing love and not to turn back for anything that happens. To hold this intent, the reader is given a single short word, such as GOD or LOVE, to fasten to the heart as both shield and spear.
Across its many short chapters the treatise answers doubts and corrects misuses. It warns against straining the body or imagination upward, against young and presumptuous beginners who take its words too literally, and against trusting strange sensations. It insists that contemplation rests on humility and on a true feeling of oneself, that the active and contemplative lives need each other, and that even the worst sinner, once amended and called, can come to God soonest through this loving work. A short prayer of one syllable, it says, pierces heaven.