The distortion is a persistent constellation of conceptual and perceptual convictions that manifest as the various inner and outer forms and performances I experience in my awakening. It accumulates in the way that dust accumulates on a car left outside, until I can no longer see what is underneath.
The distortion hides the source from view. It accumulates in layers. But those layers can be wiped away, revealing the source as the origin of my entire existence. If I wipe the dirt and accumulated grime away, I will always see source under it all.
All movement and change is the distortion. The dog running around outside. My trip to the store for groceries. The people around me. The thoughts in my head. My desires. The movies I watched, and the distractions I engage. The limbs I move on demand. The memories that spontaneously flash through my mind. The entire substance of my daily experience — everything that moves and changes, is the distortion.
The origin of all of this change is the only thing that does not change. It rests behind my eyes, deep inside of my head. It is the source of all the inner and outer projections of change. This source is with me from the moment I wake up, until the moment I fall back asleep. When I sleep, I remember that I am this point. My awakenings are merely interruptions of who I am.
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