We experience this world through the wisdom and knowledge that live within us and in the way in which we perceive ourselves, the world and the relationship between them. Our ability to navigate life develops as we bring this wisdom and knowledge to fruition, turning possibility into reality. In order for this to happen, the knowledge is guided by understandings, constructs and rules that we have adopted or inherited, or perhaps discovered, created or invented. These operate similarly to fiber optics, like conducting material through which our knowledge and wisdom are transmitted and carried.
The purpose of this chapter is to bring us face to face with the fact that we are light and that the fibers of this light are constantly accessible to us. Knowing this elevates our spirit and reminds us of the weightlessness that is in everything. It reminds us what we are and have always been. It reminds us of our true nature.
This chapter is comprised of three lenses that can help us distinguish and examine the topics discussed in the previous chapters and bring them into practice. Through them we will begin to understand the questions, as well as the invitation for personal observation that this chapter offers. These are not three separate lenses. Rather, they together create a space in which we may connect to these questions and awaken through them.
The purpose of this chapter is to help us recognize the beauty that we see – and to agree to it. To know that it is us. To plant our feet in it and become revived by it.
The questions, and the observations that arise from them, are intended to bring an awakening into our daily lives. They are meant to lead to an inquiry that turns our lives into one intuitive motion of love. The observations invite freedom and happiness, allowing us to effortlessly know the difference between life and the stories we tell ourselves about life – as well as a desire to live this life, make love to it and become purified by it.
The Sphere of Three Lenses
I awaken through destabilization. Things that once appeared to me to be so obvious, so necessary – orders that seemed to always exist, that I thought would forever be how they were, as though I had no influence on their existence – now fall apart. Constructs, roles, identities and relationships dissipate. They lose their form and I no longer cling to them.
And through this, I remember what I am.
What has fallen apart was merely transitory. What remains is eternal.
This is how we learn what we truly are.
The illusory reality that we have lived until now has led us to believe that we are covered in the layers and protective shells of our thoughts and opinions. We have come to believe that these thoughts and opinions act as a filter for the light, allowing only some of it to pass through, and when it does it is often distorted. We have come to view these thoughts and opinions as concave or convex lenses that manipulate the light and obstruct it from following its normal or natural course.
When lucidity suddenly occurs, it is not prompted or initiated by any specific action, but rather happens as a result of awakening, of abstaining from the thoughts or understandings that I was very sure were true until today. That I believed in and was convinced that it was the way things are. The way I am. The way the world is.
The lucidity emerges in a couple different ways.
One is when I simply observe the thought.
I am witness to it. I am awakened to my observing self and am not preoccupied with the content of the thought itself.
When we observe a thought and notice that it is being observed, the thought fades – and the fading of the thought creates clarity.
The second way lucidity occurs is when we allow ourselves to become exposed to light. Light is strong and powerful. Light – energy – by its very nature influences us and allows an exchange to take place within us without us doing anything at all. We just need to be present – alert, noticing, not resisting and inhaling that moment inwards. What we exhale is no longer our business. It is now up to nature.
It is in this space that lucidity occurs: Between the inhalation of the moment – together with the light and energy that it brings, circumstances that might seem blessed, or perhaps difficult and painful – and an exhalation back to the world. A place void of thought. Complete emptiness.
Responsibility is the ability to distinguish between life itself – the nature of things, of ourselves, of the source of everything – and the stories we tell ourselves about life, our thoughts about what life is.
I can only take responsibility for myself. Thoughts create reality. I am oneness. Everything I do leads to motion within this oneness. If I know that I am oneness, everything else that happens is just a result.
Responsibility means knowing that is it my thoughts which are creating the reality of my life.
Responsibility means being awake. It means feeling with full force. It means speaking the truth about a thought, even if it does not match who I thought I was – even if it makes me appear weak or mean-spirited.
Through me speaking my truth, another person become clearer to himself. If I hide or distance myself, then I am not allowing him to be my light, to be my fullness – to be, in the full sense of the word. There is separation. This is true even when I am afraid that I will not be seen or understood. Even when I’m afraid that I will be condemned.
Speaking the truth about this moment – this is being present. This is the present of the moment.
We often resist. We are afraid to see. We impose meanings and prefer falsities, hypocrisies and masks. This is the meaning of humility. Letting ourselves be. Saying yes. Allowing the spirit to do in us as it wishes and knowing that we will never be what we once were.
Totality – The Motion of a Soul Actor
Calling to myself from outside of myself.
Living in the tension that exists between thoughts like “I’m done”, “I don’t have what it takes”, “I wasn’t made for this”, and the deep inner knowing of remembrance.
Standing in this rift and not giving up. Not leaving. Not choosing to stay in the old and familiar.
This is the only way that I can discover that I am infinite. This is the only way that I can believe that I am infinite.
There is no stopping to check whether I understand, whether I agree, whether this matches what I believed and knew until today about myself and about life.
The totality calls to me. It sometimes forces me to exit myself, to shed my skin and leave my old self behind. And only after I have left and that shed skin is left empty and drying on the ground, will I understand that what I have left behind was never really me.
If I stay in this so-called emptiness, I will see my life anew. I will understand the events that took place and why they appeared as they did, like a giant puzzle being assembled and taking shape.
It can be sudden. Like a performance that has changed its direction. And then I will know that I never really knew myself. At first, it will come as a shock. But then, I will approach life as a journey, something to be discovered, rather than known or familiar territory.
The “but….” is only able to die because of the totality, when it comes from love. It is a total abandonment of all attachments or knowledge. It is whole. It is pure.
Afterwards, there is silence. And then clarity. And then, understanding and language emerge from this new light, from this vibration that is nearer to the source, to the essence of it all – to being, to the nature of things.
Nearer to what we truly are.
Totality that comes from fear is extreme. It is a loss of connection with the soul. It is detachment. It is “selling one’s soul to the devil” – the devil being the god of fear. It is idolatry. An idea that is external. The words for Betrayal and Idol worship are similar in English – adultery and idolatry. There is no feeling. There is no observing the thought. There is enslavement to rules, to what is allowed or forbidden. Life becomes a system, a method, an idea. Like a machine that is dangerous and deadly.
Making love with life.
When you make love, you are absent while present.
You are fully there. Maybe more than ever.
And at the same exact moment, you know that there is no you.
There is no thought making sure that you are present.
There is no one checking that you have remained who you are.
There is no one doing quality control to ensure that you are good or successful.
There is no one responsible for your survival or continuity.
And yet, at the same time, you very much exist.
A player on the field. Someone who is so much in the game that there is no longer any player, field or game.
An existence in itself. The overflow of love.
Dying-to-self. This is humility.
Dying-to-self. This is what happens when I do not intervene. When I no longer cling. When I am not stubborn. When I do not attempt to protect myself or seek satisfaction.
The clouds clear away and I can see the sky.
And now, an encounter with truth takes place. Now I am able to see what’s time has come. I am available enough and quiet enough to notice the disillusionment and awakening that’s time has come in my life. To see what is happening within me through this encounter with truth. To be grateful to myself that I have agreed.
I rest in beauty, in a quiet and stable contentment. In the simple knowing that we are one, that we are love.
Humility is when the soul gives itself over.
It is when we give over our soul in order to find it.
It is when we give over ourselves and everything we once thought was “us” in order to make space – to make space from the clouds of our opinions and thoughts. To make space from the intensity and noise that we have created for ourselves.
We create this noise so that we can avoid coming close to the empty place, the intermission, the silence.
Humility is making space for light.
Making space for God.
God is there but only we can create an opening for God to be in us. This is not something God can do. This is how God created us.
This is not something the light can do.
It depends on whether we ask the question, open the door – and are ready to wait.
Humility is where we come from, not where we are going.
It is not a situation but rather a direction taken by motion. It is my motion in life. It is what I know I am.
Humility knows that we don’t do anything to anything. That nothing happens because of us or in spite of us.
Humility knows that what happens, happens when the light moves through me.
That as long as I do not resist, create friction or obscure it, the light that moves through me is stronger.
Humility knows that the light, no matter how strong it is present in me, does not create anything until I say yes.
Humility knows that saying yes is not a passive statement but is rather responsiveness, opening, getting close enough to be vulnerable – and then agreeing to feel and to be.
Humility does not hold onto something and it doesn’t analyze – because it is aware that it cannot know what will be or what another is thinking. Humility says yes and then enters the fire, the heart of what is happening.
Humility watches and does not ask, over and over again, “What should I do? So what should I do???!!!”
It just observes and allows the occurence to discover itself.
Allows the pace to take its place. Patiently.
Humility is not contraction. Its intention is not for me to constrict myself or diminish from myself, neither seemingly nor in actuality.
The opposite is true. What is reflected from true humility is the light itself.
And this light is not only not contracting or constricting – it is infinity itself.