Sunday, December 12, 2010

why take the long way home?

ok people.

i stand here now and say to you that the truth is understood here.

and i say this also:

despite knowing there is no, and has never been, a separate 'me' or 'you'; despite knowing the truth of no self, i am in a state of confusion.

having been in a love affair with my seeking self for the past 20 years, i've awoken to find the words of those who i looked to for pointers on the 'path' to the truth to be nearly irrelevant to what finally pointed me at the nothing that i really am.

why is this happening?  why are so many books and films being made that do not simply scream:

"there is no you!"
go look for yourself.
put down everything and go LOOK.
focus on this one question.
"there is no you.  is it true?"

all it took for me, after all those years, was to look at what i believed my core self to be (i am this seeker for the truth.  i am this seeker of a way to 'let go'.), and then look for that self which the thought pattern of seeking assumed was real.

not until that task was completed, did the truth become obvious.  only then, did all the poetic words and pointers of the published liberated make perfect sense.

i submit that this soothing poetry is not a friendly way to share.  i submit that there are people in deep pain who need to be pointed right at the reality of their non-existance, and fast!

there are a lot of possibilities for why the mushy murk of spirituality spreads.  perhaps liberation is not just the direct certainty that there is no 'me'.  if that is the case, i would like to hear about it.

i have tested this again and again for myself and i am absolutely certain that this is the only truth that answers all the questions.

no me - no death.
no me - no fear.
no me - why not no problem with just getting people up to the gate and pointing them in the right direction?

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Fierce Freedom

Make the lie big,
make it simple,
keep saying it,
and eventually they will believe it.

. . Adolph Hitler

Why are you unhappy?
Because 99.9 per cent
Of everything you think,
And of everything you do,
Is for yourself —
And there isn't one.

. . Wei Wu Wei

To write something and leave it behind us,
It is but a dream.
When we awake we know There is not even anyone to read it.

. . Ikkyu
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