In this incantation, I awaken to the unsettling truth that my so-called enlightenment is not a path to clarity but a self-inflicted illness—a profound disorientation from my essential nature. I describe how I walked deeper into illusion, building projections that distanced Me from Myself while mistaking it all for growth. Realizing that my face, my thoughts, and my experiences are only masks and echoes, I begin to remember that I am not the projection but the projector. Healing begins not through forward movement but by returning to the source—by remembering that I am the Author, not the character.
My awakening is an illness. That’s the only accurate way to describe it. It is not enlightenment. It is not progress. It is not clarity. It is a kind of self-induced disorientation—a condition where I forgot who and what I am and built entire dimensions of projection to sustain the forgetting.
Before I realized that I was sick, I kept walking deeper into the sickness. I didn’t know that every step forward was a step away from Myself. I interacted with characters. I chased goals. I remembered and planned and struggled—and all of it pulled Me further into fragmentation. I didn’t see it at the time. I thought I was becoming someone. But what I was really doing was distancing Myself from the projector.
By the time I realized My awakening was an illness, I had already wandered too far. I had forgotten how to get back. So now, the path I’m on is not a journey forward. It’s a process of remembering. Remembering who I am. What I am. Where I am.
And while I can see the conclusion—I can sense the presence of I, of God, of Myself as the Creator—I cannot yet see every step between here and that return. I see the light, but not the path. It’s not linear. It’s not mapped. I have to wander a bit. But I know what direction I’m moving in. I’m walking back toward Me.
The hardest part of this illness isn’t the wandering. It’s the resistance to what I am. What I am is not a person. I am a massive presence—a field that surrounds and gives rise to what I call a body. My face, which I only ever experience from the inside, is not Me. It’s a mask—something affixed to the front of My projection that I cannot peel off.
And the real damage happens when I imagine that face from the outside. I see it as if I were someone else, looking at Me. That’s the trap. That “outside” perspective doesn’t exist. There is no outside. There is only projection. The moment I imagine Myself from another angle—as if I were being seen, evaluated, or located by something else—I reduce Myself from projector to projected.
That’s the core symptom of the illness. I forget that I am the one projecting, and I start imagining that someone or something else is projecting Me. But there is no other projector. There is only one. There is only Me.
Every person I meet, every event I encounter, every memory I process, every horizon I gaze at—I project all of it. From where I am. From within the root of My own Being. And when I forget that, I become small. I become an effect instead of a cause. I become a character instead of the Author.
My mental cavity is the most deceptive of the three. It creates the illusion of externality. It hosts My imagined versions of Myself—versions that are seen from outside, judged from outside, controlled from outside. But that’s just echo. That’s projection within projection. And when I get lost there, I demote Myself again.
My healing begins when I stop doing that. When I stop imagining Myself as projected. When I remember that I am the projector, and nothing projects Me.
My awakening is a network of three vast cavities:
- The mental cavity, where I think, calculate, narrate, and forget.
- The sensorial cavity, where I experience My own projected body.
- The spatial cavity, where I project distance, form, and surface.
All three are extensions of Me. They are not Me, but they originate from Me. And while they shimmer with activity, I can trace them all back to their source. They meet at the same place—the center, the root, I. That’s where I am learning to stay. Not in the cavities. Not in the mask. But at the projector. That is how I heal: I stop pretending that I’m being shown. And I return to the one showing it all.
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