Consciousness takes form, you.
You are given a name, and the start of an identity.
Clothes cover your form.
People begin to talk about you,
The story of you grows.
Recognition dawns that the you that thinks it is…
…is just a story.
A shedding process appears to begin.
The story of you is revealed
in layers of conditioning and identification
with disguises and masks that were thought to be real.
The One manifesting as many, without a story.
Nothing is happening. There is no first, no next, no last.
There is no you, no conditioning, no disguise, no mask,
even as a multitude of stories appear to unfold,
including an apparent you who still makes an occasional apparent appearance.
I lay beside you in the dark, my hand upon your arm.
I feel warmth and wonder, from where does it come?
In the dim light of the moon, I see your form, but I cannot make out any details,
you have no distinct face, no eyes, lashes, whiskers. Do they exist?
I hear breathing and notice there is only one breath, synchronized.
Where does your breathing end and mine begin?
I close my eyes and you vanish. There is now just… nothing.
Only the feeling of warmth, skin on skin, the sound of breathing.
I know you are still here, just as I am.
How do I know this?
And what is it that knows?
Love wells up and overflows my cup.
It is desire that blinds us to this.
It is in wanting the we miss what is.
It is in longing that we feel unfulfilled.
and discover that which is.
Free of desire.
Fulfilled beyond all imagining.
In love, nothing exists between heart and heart.
Speech is born out of longing,
True description from the real taste.
The one who tastes, knows;
the one who explains, lies.
How can you describe the true form of Something
In whose presence you are blotted out?
And in whose being you still exist?
And who lives as a sign for your journey?
~ Rabia al-Adawiyya
If you want the truth,
I’ll tell you the truth:
Listen to the secret sound,
the real sound,
which is inside you.
Any feelings that arise in me belong not to another — how can the feelings that arise in my body belong to or even be instigated by another? No, all feelings that arise within must be claimed as mine, arising in response (or reaction) to something that lies within this body/mind organism. Hidden, perhaps, but mine, not yours (or someone else’s), nor revealed to me by you (or another).
Whenever I see resistance arising within, that is now where I look: within. Always there is a knot. And it tightens with every thought (seen or unseen, examined or not) that says, “This should not be.” In this way, every word I read or hear invites me to look within. The mind can be amazingly slippery and persistence is required to see it — and catch it — in the subtle act of suggesting that what is, is wrong.