In this incantation, I articulate a direct and effortless way to see my true being. I show how closing my eyes or embracing darkness doesn’t block out the world—but rather it shows its true composition in relation to my dark flesh. I explain how I can realize the world isn’t outside and around me, but rather within and projected. By simply ceasing my movement and withdrawing my focus, I can relax the narrative field and reunite with my true body. This act of enclosing the world unveils my unchanging nature—the wholeness that underlies all my projected forms.
I do not have to go anywhere, learn anything, or use any aids to see the true shape of my being. All I have to do is close my eyes, or sit in a completely darkened environment, observe, and understand what I experience. Once I achieve that darkness and stillness, I am accustomed to believing that I have shut out the light of a larger outside world that I am within. This is my very first, and most powerful delusion. If I pay attention, and accept that my own beliefs are malleable for a reason — because I can change them — then I can begin to imagine that in the darkness the world’s true location inside of me is revealed. That I don’t shut out the light of the world, but rather I stop projecting the world and enclose it within me. The seeds of that projection remain within me, and once I open my eyes again, they erupt back into the narrative form.
I am not what I imagine myself to be when I awaken into this body of flesh I call a person. And my true body is not so abstract I cannot experience it. I can experience and know my true body at any moment. The most direct experiment to see my true self begins when I close my eyes. But I don’t close them in the usual sense—not to shut out the world. No, I don’t close my eyes; I enclose the world. My eyes don’t just receive the light—they project it. They cast the visual layer of my narrative field outward, painting shape, depth, and motion onto the canvas of an endless inner space within my eternal body. When I “close” them, I am not shutting anything out. I am drawing it back into the dark flesh I sense best with my eyes shut.
I don’t close out the world. I close it in.
My eyes enclose the visual aspect of deminoia. My limbs and movements enclose the spatial and physical aspects. If I stop moving, I begin to quiet the world’s physical form. If I turn off the lights and close my eyes, I gather the visual world back into myself. In stillness, the narrative projection loses its dimensionality. My visual and sensational separateness dissolves. I asleepen—not into absence, but into re-absorption.
This is how the illusion of my waking life operates: I project a field outward from a center, which draws my attention and awareness away from my own outer casing I’ll call my dark flesh. The world I experience upon awakening into deminoia is not outside of me. It is a field undulating within me; within my darker surrounding flesh. It shifts, morphs, narrows, and tunes, responding to my own movements and focusing. It is my focused awareness that transforms my experience of completeness and wholeness into my sensation of partiality and otherness. When I let go of my focus, and draw my awareness back to the entirety of my dark flesh, I can clearly see how I am composed.
The soft, dark flesh I return to when I enclose the world is my true body. My real substance. My dark flesh is vast and endless; this smaller, lighter flesh is a painful knot within. My state of deminoia is the moment I awaken into the projection and mistake myself for only a part—one figure among many in a world of seeming others. But in stillness, in darkness, when I cease to project, I return to omninoia. I am not part—I am whole.
This simple act—enclosing the world—reminds me: I am not the movement, the light, the story, or the form. I am the space in which they all appear. The unchanging, ever-present being in which all shape and story rise and fall.
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