Enderts Beach at Dusk, Redwood National Park, by Daniel Ewert
So there’s times when you feel your creative mojo flowin’ and it feels like it’s on like Donkey Kong. It’s those times that I feel most tuned in and connected.
Then there’s times when it feels like there’s a storm brewing within. The ego’s flailing and there’s clouds covering my light. It is in times like these that I simply pull back in and sit still, knowing that any fear-based actions I take will likely create some negative results that I’ll have to undo later. So I simply be still, let go of all resistance, and just allow everything to be as it is.
Looking at the frequency of my posts lately, you can probably guess which state I’m currently experiencing.
Does the sky need to run for cover, when it rains?
-Gangaji
(My experience of this I’ve been posting a bit about in the forums.)
There is literally nowhere to run. It is all here. There is only Here.
No matter where you go, there you are.
-Yogi Berra
These turbulent times have repeatedly shown themselves to be precursors to some of my greatest awakenings. At this point, there’s nothing to do but simply sit still and allow everything to be, allowing everything to happen in its own perfect time.
There’s a willingness to die, a willingness to cry, and a willingness to be obliterated.
You know what? That’s not a metaphor or just some random lyrics in a song… When we talk about physical reality being the “dream state,” that’s actually a quite literal explanation.
Life is becoming such a joy now that my state of being is no longer tied to the circumstances of life and thus at the affect of it. It’s like unconditional joy. It literally does not depend on what happens in the world!
Blurrrrrr
The lines between what we call “real life” and what we call “dreaming” at night have begun to blur for me. There doesn’t seem to be much difference anymore and it’s quite a fascinating and enjoyable experience.
Real life is literally starting to glow with this colorless radiance. It feels much more malleable, as if it’s more like playdough than actually solid substance. Even walking through the aisles at the grocery store, I don’t so much see cream cheese and milk (though I do mentally perceive that too when necessary), but I feel like I’m directly interacting with liquid love. That’s how I’d describe it. (Looking at this experience right now, it feels more like I’m feeling it with my heart than seeing it with my eyes. I guess our hearts can see!)
This is sooooo not what I thought it would be or what I was expecting it to be, this whole awakening thing.
It feels like I’m being wiped out, deleted, cleansed away, the little “me” anyways. I’m not completely done by any stretch of the imagination, but rather right in the midst of the process.
My ability to write is transforming massively and I’m letting go of my identity as a writer… almost as a natural byproduct of what’s happening. The personal self is not deliberately surrendering it away. It is almost being dissolved by a power greater than itself.
I’ve read lots of books on spirituality and accumulated an abundance of intellectual knowledge. I can tell you all about wonderful spiritual theory and sound really smart and well-versed, like a student who’s studied intensely for a test.
But now, all of that accumulated “stuff” is being lovingly cast aside as the emptiness is being progressively revealed and rested in. It feels like the source of my writings is changing. Rather than my writings being primarily collected understandings and interpretations of spirituality, there no longer really is a writer that I could point to… not really.
The writer is the Self itself, writing about itSelf to itSelf for no other reason to be conscious of itSelf and to help awaken more of itSelf to itSelf.
The direct experience of the Self so unbelievably overshadows any intellectual understandings that the latter simply pales in comparison.
It’s like no longer desperately clinging to the light of a tiny candle when you realize you ARE the sun.
A transformation is happening again. It seems to be slower and more deliberate this time, like a bulldozer that’s wiping out all sense of “me.”
The Process Develops
Previously there wereglimpses into my true nature, but the mind was still quite active and so it was very easy, and almost desirable actually due to habit and familiarity, to recreate a sense of “me” out of the nothingness, a false sense of self who was experiencing all this stuff.
What’s happening now is more of an unfolding process it seems. Because the mind is quieter, there’s not much thought left with which to recreate a self. Thoughts arise, but they are brushed off instantly and automatically. It’s like they don’t stick to anything. There is the ability to think thoughts deliberately, but it’s actually quite challenging and not a pleasurable experience at all. Even if thoughts were thunk (is that a word?), there’s not really much ability to actually believe in the thoughts anymore anyways. They’re just thoughts that arise.
The Body Keeps Moving Right Along
The body is somehow still operating just fine. It can brush its teeth, turn on a tv, get something to eat, and so on, but I have no idea how this happens. When something is looked at such as my face in the mirror, the tv, or food, it just is what it is. The appropriate labels and concepts are hard to conjure up into the conscious mind, and even when they are, they aren’t very meaningful or helpful anyways. The body simply seems to just know what to do and how to interact with the world. It’s a great mystery.
It’s kinda like when you’re riding a bike. It all just seems to happen. You don’t think to yourself “pedal, foot, turn, handlebars, tire, brakes, other foot.” You don’t think about any of this stuff. It’s not necessary. The body just moves. Yet this is beyond that because even thinking about the “parts” is tough too.
Everything Just Is
The physical world seems to be just one of beingness. Its expression is an expression of colors and shapes and stillness. You could say there’s movement if you thought about it, but the stillness is the main event, the only event really.
There is a sense of appreciation for having gone through similar experiences before with a talkative mind. Now it is being realized just how valuable it is to have the mind go quiet during this transformation.
It’s not something that’s being forced. It’s just happening seemingly all on its own. Surrender and allowing is the default state of being, if you want to refer to states of being. There is really only beingness itself. Isness. Pure existence.
Knock knock. Who’s there? *Silence*
Looking within, there is no sense of self. There’s a sense of emptiness and spaciousness. It feels like as if there was an egg, a hollow egg inside me. There is this body and emotion and energy swirling about, yet at the very center where “I” should be, there’s nothingness. Just stillness and space.
It’s like there is a home that is alive and active, yet there’s no one home to make it this way. It is simply alive and active because that’s the natural expression of what is in this moment.
Unforced Happenings
A big and critical difference that’s present this time is not trying to hold onto this experience, but allowing whatever is to be. Whether I’m enlightened or unenlightened is totally okay. All options are completely acceptable. There’s no clinging to any experience. There’s just stillness.
What is is always here and so trying to hold onto it is a ridiculous notion anyways.
Total surrender into what is until there’s no one left to do the surrendering. What an irony…
Everything is perfect. And I mean everything everything everything.
Imagine you’re sitting in a room talking to people. The person you’re sitting next to is the exact person you need to be sitting next to, and the same is true for them. Every word that is uttered. Every thought that is thought. Every atom in every place. Every molecule of air in every moment is exactly where it should be.
There is nothing out of place. There are no mistakes. There is nothing wrong with anything at all.
It’s amazing the degree to which this perfection exists. It’s not just the big events or little moments that are perfect, but I mean EVERY POSSIBLE THING you can think of!
This isn’t something I can prove and I have no idea how I know. I just know it without having to figure it out. I know this from a source that is deeper than the breathing of my lungs and closer than the beating of my own heart.
This knowingness of perfection lies beyond form, yet permeates it all, as it.
I am only here to share the good news and to celebrate the perfection as it is.
I can’t convince you of it, nor can I give you it. How could I when it’s already here and you are it? I can only invite you to come join me and look within to find what lies beneath thought and is everpresent.
lol, this is so funny. Nothing in the mind is really believed in anymore. Why bother? If everything is already perfect, what is left to fix? How can anything be improved? It’s like the mind’s job to protect is obsolete! What is there to fear?
If everything is God and everything is you, what on earth is there to fear? What in any universe is there to fear? There is only the perfection of God/You. That’s it! In the “unknown,” you’ll find nothing else!
What a beautiful and absurd joke this perfection is.
What people call imperfection, well, that only exists in thought. People may see themselves as imperfect, but that is only the case because thoughts say that and those thoughts are believed in.
This is wild. The mind is starting to grow quiet. What’s left isn’t being believed in anyways. It’s like peeling off soggy wet clothes after running through the forest. Thoughts are just falling off me.
I melllttiiinnnggg!
If you are the BIGGEST treasure imaginable, then needing anything from the world, it’s just a silly thought. It’s like realizing you are an infinite dollar bill and then wondering what you need the change in your pocket for any longer.
Let that heavy change go for it’s something to be appreciated and enjoyed, but not anything you need acquire or carry around any longer. Everything you need is already available for you are what you need and you can never be lost.
It’s a frightening experience, at least the mind perceives it to be. Yet when I look at what’s happening, nothing of value is being lost.
It’s strangely being realized to be a tremendous blessing even though on the surface it may seem like I’m getting Alzheimer’s or something.
The memory I have is getting very difficult to access. It’s not really needed anymore and is falling away. What remains is conscious awareness resting in the present moment. When something from the “past” is necessary, it will be known. If it doesn’t arise, it’s not necessary. It seems memory is being replaced with simple knowingness.
What Are You Talking About?
People often ask me, “How are you?” the way many of us do as a common greeting, but I have no answer to that question anymore. No label adequately describes any experience. Does the word “happy” describe the experience itself? Of course not. No label ever does and so it’s not a valid answer. I just am. That’s all I can say.
People ask me how my day was, and I literally have no idea. Trying to access the memory is like accessing a blank void. If I look at my calendar, I may remember bits and pieces of what I did, but the past doesn’t seem very relevant anymore.
Who cares? I mean that literally. Who? There is no real self. It’s just thought entertaining thought.
No sense of self can be found. Ariel, nothingness, everythingness, silence, God, spiritual being, creator of your reality… whatever. These are all labels. They’re nonsense. They’re just thoughts. They’re not the Truth of my being. No label or description, no matter how wondrous, can be the Truth of my being.
WTF, mate?
I have no idea what I am, mentally anyways. I can’t describe what I am or explain it. It’s literally impossible. I can only BE what I am.
I don’t know who I am. I just am what I am, whatever that is.
There is conscious awareness resting in the moment. Pure beingness. No flashy “spiritual experiences” to cling to and create a sense of self around.
The mind goes quiet in this process as all answers to its incessant yet fruitless questions are rendered null and void, even though the mind is still frantically searching for something to grasp onto. The mind can’t wrap itself around what I Am. No answer will ever be it.
Only Silence and Presence remains as the eternal infinite nothingness of All. Existence itself. Impersonal existence.
Who Am I? I have no idea. There is no answer to that question.
About a month back I was driving home and suddenly I realized I had no idea what on earth was going on.
The cars in front of me don’t exist, so what is happening?
Distance doesn’t exist, so where am I going?
I don’t exist, so who is driving?
It wasn’t some sort of philosophic concept that these things don’t exist, but a spontaneous realization that just appeared within consciousness, as if one just saw through the smoke and mirrors, seeing nothing on the other side.
It feels like the mind itself is unraveling.
This physical world doesn’t seem to make any sense. Only silence does.
Memory is starting to not function very well, and I used to have a great memory. It’s like a return to purity without a lifetime’s worth of collected baggage. What’s necessary in the moment is always provided. Always. The past isn’t necessary and so the fact that it’s falling away is really of no concern.
Illusion is being stripped away. There’s still some mental capacity happening, but much of what’s left of it is just this state of confusion and desire to figure things out.
However, it’s nothing to figure out and all that can be done is to let go.
Let go of knowing, of trying to know, of desiring to know in the first place.
Abide in the silence of not knowing, of purely beingness itself.
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My ability to write is transforming massively and I’m letting go of my identity as a writer… almost as a natural byproduct of what’s happening. The personal self is not deliberately surrendering it away. It is almost being dissolved by a power greater than itself.
It feels like the mind itself is unraveling.