Don’t confuse self with circumstance. Don’t confuse body with being. There is a trail. There is a traveler but neither one is you.
The trail gives the illusion of going from one time to the next (like from breakfast to dinner). It allows us to believe that we’ve gone from somewhere to elsewhere (like from the kitchen to the dining room).
I wake up wondering why I woke up. I wake up clasping the edges of a rapidly dissipating dream. I wake up wondering, ‘Wait, am I supposed to be worried,’ as a flash of unfounded fear permeates my body. Morning.
Tweet, says a little bird. Tweet, he joyously announces the birth of a new day despite the fact that we are still deeply buried in night’s darkness. How do you know, dear bird ? How can you be so bold ? Then there is a chirp, a cheep, a twitter, a tweet. The dawn chorus cracks night open to let in the day’s light. Do birds ever awake in fear and doubt ? Do they ever worry that morning won’t come about ?
We block ourselves by putting the glass first. ‘I want to serve water to the world,’ whispers Being. ‘Okay, says Brain, but wait, I need a glass. What ? No glass ? I need money to buy a glass. I need a job to get money to buy a glass so I can serve your water to the thirsty.’ Quickly the original premise gets quenched by the physical demands of a material world. I lie in bed, mouth dry, lips crackling. It is dusk and I am dying. I realize that I spent my entire life chasing after a glass. And I realize too, too late, that I could have simply served the water in my cupped hands.
Although we are forever seeking answers, the world and its ways remain impenetrable to mere man. Thanks to huge telescopes we know we are on a planet in a solar system in a universe. But mostly we know we still don’t know much. At the other end of our quest, under a microscope, we have broken matter down into components, bits and pieces, molecules, particles and atoms. Still no end in sight. Clueless, we stoically walk from crib to coffin, without ever knowing who we are, where we are, what we are.
Then this woman cuts in front of me in the grocery line. Suddenly I know absolutely everything.
Know thyself is to know that you are two and you are one. You are separated and you are whole.
You are a divine creature walking around in a spacesuit. The divine part of you cannot function in the physical world of form. So when we come to this land of paper and plastic, of fire and flesh, of old and new, of beginnings and ends, we need a protective coating. I am a hue in a man on a mission to Mars.
The truth doesn’t exist. It isn’t something out there that you can capture or plant your flag on. For vacation I went to visit The Truth. It was amazing! (But so touristy.) I plaster my fb page with selfies: me at The Truth. I drive down the street with I love the Truth on the rear end of my car.
Pebbles 