Today I write my first post. I write in here today in order to further understand and to maybe be understood, and to of course one day look back upon what I have written and cringe, for isn't that what growing up is all about?
I thought I would start of with some thoughts on the quote that I am just feeling right now, and that is - Wisdom tells me I am nothing. Love tells me I am everything. And between the two my life flows. - Nisargadatta Maharaj
Sometimes I wonder if there actually is anybody out there. In as much as my true-self is a no-thing, as awareness is formless, then yes, it is evidently so that there is only me here and you, or what I know as you, is a projection in the universe that is my mind. The projection being the sum total of my ability to apply pattern recognition to your behaviours. Imagined projections in one's mind are the only 'things' that anyone ever reacts to. Prove to me otherwise.
I can make you out to be whoever I like, but I promise I'll invent a favourable character of you … just don't disappoint me. And I'm sure you also have a vivid universe going on inside your head. I wish I could visit, but that's the thing about universes, the definition itself implies that it is a self-contained singularity. I cannot exist in yours as much as you cannot exist in mine.
But as I look within, the gaze just keeps going, there is no end to its expansion, or should I say implosion. And I find as my truth, that love is not only expressed, but that I am the very essence of love itself. Childhood memories littered throughout timelines, a common thread discovered, all catalyst was found to be acted upon love.
In as much as I am love itself, is to the extent that I am absolutely everything for she is everywhere, resonating with everything. The flutter of linen in the wind, the thrust of a fist from the boxer in the ring, even the tremor in your forced smile. That one happened so quick, you thought I missed it. And so it is only us here, us in all our potential forms, displays of passion, all from the same beating heart.
Maybe I can come to know you beyond pattern-recognition, come to see you as me. Love that is sometimes hurt, scared, confused – well, always confused. Love that cowers in the face of it's own brilliance. Infinity ... all possibility, anything that could ever be conceived, dreamt, spewed forth… its all her. And I can know, deep at the core, that as you cower in the face of your own potential, that you will learn to rise to the occasion. And that is what you're doing; every step forward, every supposed set-back, every eon that passes by is the medicine that is sorely needed for you to one day maybe open the eye which has been shut tight, maybe you'll get up off the floor, maybe you'll even turn to face the reality which greets you back.