Monday, 26 January 2009

If Nothing Exists And There Is No One And No Point, Why Bother?

The mind gets ahold of these concepts and tries feverishly to make sense of them but to no avail. If no one and nothing exists, it's all merely appearance, and what seems to appear is absolutely meaningless, then why bother? Don't bother. There is no choice anyway. Bothering or not bothering will come up. There is no you or me to direct it. There is no one who can bother or not bother. This isn't just freedom from having to work terribly hard to make "your" life "work", this is freedom from everything. This is freedom from the illusion of a separate self. This is utter freedom. It is beyond what the mind can sort out. It is an eye that sees itself - impossible to understand.
It unrolls anyway. My apparent life is noticed, it is appreciated. It is lived, is it passionate. Goals seem to arise. But they are unfettered, and the fulfillment of them seems to be more than my mind could have imagined. But pleasure and a "better" life and "feeling better" are not goals anymore. Truly, there are no goals, just a story that seems to include them. Liberation from me is astounding, it is truly indescribable. What a fuss it all was, what a palaver, how seriously it was all taken. Even within separation, the mind can conclude that in a million years nothing that seems to be going on now will matter in the least. This is greater than that, a million times more, ineffably more. There is no million years from now, it is only this. This is all there ever is. There is no time. There is no space. Just the appearance. There are no parallel universes, no more than there is anyone or anything. The story can include them, but it just makes for an extremely interesting story. Mind expanding, so it would seem, but the mind can only ever expand so much. What is on offer, what simply is, is so much more, and the mind is just on the sidelines, a bit bloated in its role. It is all around, it is everything that seems to be. Call it unconditional love, most minds seem to like that. Call it God or Hank or Jehoshaphat. It is all there is and is always available, because it is all there is.

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