Sunday, 7 June 2009
Sir, It Is A Mystery.
There is no way anyone will ever be enlightened. There is absolutely nothing you can do to achieve enlightenment. There is no amount of practice, meditation, reading, sitting in satsangs, or teaching that can illuminate what is already oneness. There is no need to dissolve the ego; there is no need to strip back the self, to reprogramme wrong thinking, or to get rid of attitudes that make enlightenment impossible. There is no one who has ever been enlightened. There is no need for anyone to awaken. There has never been anyone, there is just this. This is nirvana, just as it is; this is everything every dream person has ever sought; either it is not seen, or seen, by no one. There are many twists in the stories that make apparent separation more bearable. There is therapy, there is "being true to yourself," there is "getting to know yourself," there is self-inquiry, there are many, many practices that take the story from a relatively "bad" one to a relatively "good" one. There is a greater possibility, and it is what this already is. It sings and breathes, it corrupts and shames, it murders and creates, it accepts and prejudices, it soars and triumphs; it "everythings". It may solidly seem that there is a contracted point of view, a prison of aloneness, a fumbling to reach out, to connect, to have "deep engagement" with others. These overwhelming, blissful states and lofty personal goals are marvelous. Yet they are no more important than the fly's wing twitch. Nor are they less important. That aloneness is all-one-ness. The quality of "I exist" is the quality of all. Those apparent separate lights of beingness, a little beacon in each mind/body, are the same all-encompassing light. Light that has no space, and all space; that exists infinitely, eternally, without substance; this, just as it is, is eternity, all apparent moments in one. Whatever seems to be is exquisite in its absolute appropriateness, its utter suitability, for it can be nothing else. When "it" happens, seeing this, finally just being this, the blatant simplicity and obviousness to the answer of all questions is astounding, extraordinary. There was never anything to seek.