We attach ourselves to images of who we believe ourselves to be or not to be, in our arduous journey toward self recognition. If only I can get there, we tell ourselves, then I will be happy and my life complete. But, there is no getting there because the journey is the illusion that the self creates, in order to soothe the self of its imagined pain. The self, the journey, and the pain are but illusions. What then is real? The not self. The unguarded happiness found in not being, not doing. The silent revelation of uncommitted self, the place of being without " having to be". That place beyond the observed self, beyond the critical self, beyond the yearning self, beyond the unbelonged self, beyond the restless and ever wandering self. What is beyond these infinite mirrors of the reflected and refracted self? Unimaginable love, self acceptance, endless compassion, perfect understanding. Silent, still, watchful, beloved self. Who is this beloved self? It is all of us. One can almost see us all beyond the mirror. The all is infinite love, and therefore infinite being. You and me.
On Jun 26, 2013Anila wrote :
Beautifully explained and understood. Very humbled and grateful for your words.