This is wholeness, this is everything you ever thought you've been looking for. This is all there is. Even the feelings of unworthiness and incompleteness are wholeness. It is overwhelmingly obvious, yet paradoxically not easily seen. There is nothing else, this is it. There may be thoughts of Australia (if Australia is not apparently where you are), but Australia doesn't exist, there is just this. It is everything. You may fly to Australia, but there is still just this - it only looks different. It's difficult, there seems to be a location, there seems to be a person where the awareness is focused, but there is no location. Just whatever is, arising, for no one. Memories come up of when I struggled with this, when there was still someone struggling to not be herself. Nothing changed. I just suddenly realised - or saw - that this is what I had been searching for my entire life, it had been there all along, just everything exactly as it is. The quality of everything changed, yet nothing changed. It's not about accepting what is, or being content with "your" lot. Those ideas can make the separation from everything seem more bearable. But even the unbearableness is wholeness. Whatever the thought, feeling or appearance, there is nothing wrong with it, it is what it must be. Even the discontentedness with it is wholeness. There is no getting away from oneness, or whatever we happen to label it. It is the biggest thing, it is the only thing. Freedom from the bondage of self is astonishing, wonderful, yet also miserable, uncomfortable, it can be anything, there is no surety, there is no bargaining with it. But it is boundless, unfettered by time or space. It is all there is. There was never any "hole in my soul"; I merely believed there was. Now there is no one to believe. "How can this be enough?" I wondered, in separation. It is.
Saturday, 7 March 2009
It Just Looks Different.
This is wholeness, this is everything you ever thought you've been looking for. This is all there is. Even the feelings of unworthiness and incompleteness are wholeness. It is overwhelmingly obvious, yet paradoxically not easily seen. There is nothing else, this is it. There may be thoughts of Australia (if Australia is not apparently where you are), but Australia doesn't exist, there is just this. It is everything. You may fly to Australia, but there is still just this - it only looks different. It's difficult, there seems to be a location, there seems to be a person where the awareness is focused, but there is no location. Just whatever is, arising, for no one. Memories come up of when I struggled with this, when there was still someone struggling to not be herself. Nothing changed. I just suddenly realised - or saw - that this is what I had been searching for my entire life, it had been there all along, just everything exactly as it is. The quality of everything changed, yet nothing changed. It's not about accepting what is, or being content with "your" lot. Those ideas can make the separation from everything seem more bearable. But even the unbearableness is wholeness. Whatever the thought, feeling or appearance, there is nothing wrong with it, it is what it must be. Even the discontentedness with it is wholeness. There is no getting away from oneness, or whatever we happen to label it. It is the biggest thing, it is the only thing. Freedom from the bondage of self is astonishing, wonderful, yet also miserable, uncomfortable, it can be anything, there is no surety, there is no bargaining with it. But it is boundless, unfettered by time or space. It is all there is. There was never any "hole in my soul"; I merely believed there was. Now there is no one to believe. "How can this be enough?" I wondered, in separation. It is.
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2 comments:
I admit that before I reminded myself that I'm posting a comment at exactly the right time I thought I was kind of late. I think I'd have hailed sooner, except I was away, I've been surprised by my own body, and I've been working harder than I'd like. When I get tired, my mind just tries all the harder to understand the world. It's pathetic. It's good to read this blog, and realise that even my mind's insane mission to comfort me with meaning is only as crazy as the other things it'd do anyway. Thanks. Alan
It's not pathetic, it's perfect. In your story that seems to unfold, perhaps some thoughts and feelings and actions along the lines of not being so hard on yourself could arise. There is nothing wrong with being comforted with meaning, or anything else. Although it seems to be a circumstance of separation - needing comfort - all is oneness, even separation, even vulnerability. There is nothing you can do to revise your mind's insane mission. But maybe, sometimes, it just gives up.
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