When the sense of self loses its relevance the fear of its imagined death evaporates.
In a field of remembered hues
That only life as life
You can not tell a self this
And by no means
Can it be understood
We are speaking the language
That only clouds
There comes a sublime contentment when it dawns that you will never be happy.
Life is an emotional spectrum that ranges from great joy to great horror.
Happiness is conditional.
There is a sublime quiescence in the middle of the emotional reactions.
But it is not dependent on circumstances.
It is always there......right in the middle of the swirling mnemonic debris.
You are suspended between the conceptual storm on the outside and the sublime quiescent edgelessness in the center
Most are focused on the conceptual turmoil
The search comes to a full stop.....
The dream continues.
But now it is un-owned .
You are a beautiful mental fabrication.....a tiny temporary window through which the manifested universe gets a fleeting glimpse of it own wonder.
It can be painful when it dawns on the brain that its precious sense of self never actually existed
And yet the sense of self is the only tool the brain has to consider its own ultimate irrelevance.
It means nobody else can sit in that chair but you....
The sense of personal identity is woven by the brain out of its remembered past and hoped for future.
It is a streaming phantom, appearing in the objectified momentary.
It is a frame of reference not an entity
The starkness of this understanding can alarm the seeker's mind and at first glimpse many recoil back into the familiar.
Many will dance around the fire but linger at a safe distance keeping the illusion of personal autonomy alive with cleverness and shell games.
The simple apprehension that this is it.....this ever emerging momentary...this streaming objectified perspective is all there is......is to most, terrifyingly empty.
To those who leap into the flames.....it is emptiness......overflowing.
You are awareness aware of being aware through the dream of being human....
Without imaginary separation....
There is no recognition of unicity.....
Nor awareness aware of being aware.....
We ARE the dream.
There is no place to seek the mind
It is like the footprints of the birds in the sky
You've traveled up ten thousand steps in search of the Dharma.
So many long days in the archives, copying, copying.
The gravity of the Tang and the profundity of the Sung
Make heavy baggage.
Here! I've picked you a bunch of wildflowers.
Their meaning is the same
But they're much easier to carry.
All the patterns were still there. What I liked before, I still liked, what I reacted to before, I still reacted to. And yet, it wasn't real, in the same way that it was before. There was some "I" sense that was missing from it.
When it first happened, I was very confused, because it didn't meet any expectations I had of what awakening was. All the mental patterns were the same, the thinking patterns were the same, yet in the middle of that, there was this place of beingness that changed the relationship to all those other patterns.
So awakening happens, and life throws all this stuff at you, and you've got all these reflexive, old conditioning patterns, and most people deal with it from there. But their relationship to is changed. The most bizarre paradox of awakening is that everything changes, and everything remains the same.
They believe this feeling ( of love ) comes from the other person
And well it's actually a glimpse of what we are.....
Most people trust their take on things and believe that it represents reality.
Seldom does it dawn that they are nothing other than their brain's take on things and that reality is defined by the brain's accumulation of beliefs.
It's an imaginary closed loop from which there is no escape.
There is, however, a radically different way to experience the objectified world.
Awakening is also part of the dream.....We ARE the dream.
Sages and seekers are nothing other than their brain's accumulation of beliefs.
The only difference is the sage knows that.
And the only place they can meet is where the beliefs overlap.
Anything downstream from "I am" is dream.
For many years I craved the company of sages living and dead.
I believed that the secret of secrets could be uncovered in their thoughts.
I sat with many and read many more.
I read and reread.....dogeared and underlined hundreds and hundreds of books.
It felt like they had something I needed....something I was lacking.
Only later did it dawn that it was their essential nothingness for which I longed.
Discovering I had been in love with my own love and emptiness
Was quite a shock
How I sobbed