If time is not real, what does that say about my memory of past misbehaviors? The belief that I have committed indiscretions is a powerful shackle I experience as shame, guilt, and self-condemnation. It traps me in a cycle or regret, embarrassment, shame and self-loathing. Do I face these transgressions and forgive myself? Or do I simply banish them from my moment because they are not real?
Firstly, I clarify. It is not that time is not “real”, but rather that time is the product of change which is the product of movement, which is itself the product of my desire. My desire generates secondself and thirdself movement, which generates change, which in turn create a distortion I experience as time and space. So as long as I desire, I will experience these memories, some of which stir into the shape of past wrongdoings.
If I am consistent, I understand that these indiscretions I believe I committed in the past are in truth distortions in my moment descending from my own desire. They did not happen prior to this moment; they are happening right now. Did I misbehave toward that person in the past? Did I take advantage of that situation I was in? Aren’t I a bad person for doing those things? No to all three. In my moment I am sitting peacefully in my temple praying, and those sensations in my secondself that I experience as memories of my own wrongdoing are simply secondself distortions in my moment. They did not happen. I am not a person who did those things because a) I am not a person, and b) there is only this moment. If I manifest the artifacts of those distortions (aka, the people I associate with the memories), then I will shape my moment into the pain and shame they represent.
Time is sticky because I desire, generate movement, and experience change. The distortions that manifest as painful past misbehaviors are not things I have done: I did not do those things, and therefore I do not need to repent or feel remorse.
How do I escape the sensation of the past? I must believe what I know is true: that it is my own desire which creates my movement, which creates change, which I experience as time and space. People are not beings like me I have done anything to; they are artifacts of my desire, characters I have created. I can conceive of all manner of past crimes, but only my present moment is true.
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