I‘d like to give everyone the gift of ‘no words.’ By that I mean, take them to that place where no word can offend, or flatter, or move you in any way. Few are willing to accept that gift because it hurts. If you put ice on a burn, it hurts more, until the nerves get numb and you don’t feel a thing and the burn begins to heal. It’s like that with words you have to let them burn, until you get numb, and see they cannot hurt.
Presence never hurts. What hurts is the attachment we feel to our opinions of how the world should be, and how it should behave toward us. When those expectations are abruptly shatter, there is hurt.
Objectifying mental concepts is the mother of all delusions.
I’m not qualified to take anyone step by step on that road. I’m just acting as road sign.
Where does that ugliness reside, but in the “I” of the beholder?
Birth: Cuba, 1936.
Life: Life begins and ends in the now. Now equals the whole of live and Consciousness. Now, life, and consciousness are always together. They are one and the same. In the now appear the memories of former nows, but that is not my life. I have no life but this aliveness of now.
Astory doesn’t belong to anyone. Whoever writes memoirs, lies; not because the tale is false, but because the story happened to no one in particular. A realization story is no exception. If realization leads to no “I”, who could be there to say, “I realized”? And yet, this is a story of realization as recorded in a mind, that at one time, thought of itself as someone.
As you read this, you might think, this is not realization, but remember, you are reading words, which attempt to depict realization. Realization itself, can only appear in your brain. You are in the same position as one judging a painting of wheat under the vortex of the sun, crows shooting up to a tormented sky. How can you judge the landscape itself? You might think the painting: a masterpiece, or the painter deranged, but the landscape itself remains unseen.
Realization stories, as you know, can unfold suddenly, or gradually. When they unfold gradually, generally, they follow certain steps. Below, is one of the many possible ways realization can unfold:
In the first step, the world is seen as paradise. This vision can last for a few seconds, minutes, hours, or days, and then it fades away.
A paradise lost is a kind of hell. The seeker wants paradise back, but how to find it? This vision, usually, while reassuring the seeker that he/she is on the right track, also gives new urgency to the search. Years could past before it returns.
In step two paradise is seen not only as the world, but also as the mind. This is the unitive view, “not two.” In this view there is neither outside nor inside; neither subject, nor object. The bliss associated with this view is so beguiling that some seekers are tempted to declare themselves done, but this view, also, will fade to return again, and again.
Not all realizations feel sublime, some are terrifying to the mind. Imagine waking up inside a cubist painting. All you see are shapes and colors without meaning, you don’t know who you are, how to remember, nor how to think. You’re just a pair of eyes. Your room seems a flat canvas painted by a chimp. Only a few seconds of that can change your view of reality for good. From then own, the seeker understands his world is a product of his brain. Without a trained mind, without memories, here are no walls, chairs, dressers, nor objects neatly arranged by perspective. This cracking of mundane reality is step three, and comes in many sizes and flavors to each mind.
Step four is entering silence, emptiness, deep peace. This stage comes and goes too. It might take many years to develop a taste for emptiness, and silence.
Step five is realizing the unconscious unknown behind awareness.
The above are my interpretations of such mental events. they conform to my culture, my educations, the ideas I hold true. A Christian, or a neurologist would interpret those same events very different.
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Your self-image is your distorting lens, but instead of going to the eye doctor, you try to protect the lens, make it thicker, denser. If you could only take the damn thing off, and see without it, but I know you can’t. I have not been able to discard mine, either. It has grown thinner, less distorting, I don’t protect it any more, but it its there, coloring, somehow, everything I see.
Why? I’m a herd animal. I need the company, the help of the herd to survive. My self-image is the signal I send to the herd that I’m one of them, that I deserve their protection and help.
Do I need a self-image to belong? Not really, I can’t help acting human, and being recognized as one. It’s more that I need to be liked, and I, most of all, need to like myself. So, we are always tinkering with the image, defending it from attack. Relax, you don’t have one image, everyone who knows you sees a different one.
You can’t control the images they have of you, you can not even control what you think of yourself. Relax, the herd can’t leave you behind, you can’t leave it behind either. You’re the herd, and at the same time, you’re no one.