He Is Too Good And Fair For Death And Me: Whom I Myself Embrace, To Set Him Free.

One of the hardest things for the ego to accept is that this, life, however it seems to manifest, just exactly as it is, is enough. It's depressing for the ego the accept that all the problems overcome in time, all the rigmarole, all the worthy concern, all the chaos perhaps finally ordered, is of nothing, to nothing, and for nothing. There is, however, an ambiance of the ego having its cake and eating it too. For an ego unbridled of itself, unmoved by itself, and revealed to be a mere construct is an ego freed to do its apparent job. When time is no longer the slave master, the story in time has cosmic perspective. The mind may not be able to figure it out, but the mind doesn't care so much; and in this apparent relaxation of the ego, it can be noticed that everything, just as it is, is enough. What has been called the "is-ness" of it seems enough. The manifest, all around, as it is, is noted; maybe thought about, maybe not, and is seen for what it is, without, perhaps, too many mind-filters to obscure it from itself. In the story in time, this is a possibility; but there is no time, so what is described here, with these concepts of "is-ness" and intrinsic worth is...just maybe...just perhaps...how reality is already perceived, by "you".

The quest for truth, the search for freedom, the seeking of enlightenment, and the thirst for meaning seem to happen. These journeys are imbued with importance and worth. The ego is consumed with itself, cannot see itself, cannot escape itself, until it sees there never was a prison. Yet the machinations of the ego are the spice of life; the ego's struggles and triumphs are poignant, genius, spectacular. They can still arise. Even if the illusion is seen through, it is only another story of seeing through an illusion; there is no end goal; there is only what is. And that is enough.

The Marx brothers, those great gurus of the twentieth century, once again encapsulate the Meaning of Life: