I close my eyes and my thirdself vanishes, leaving only residual glowing patches where the oval-shaped window was just open. My secondself buzzes with activity, but I know it is my firstself in which I am cradled, which extends infinitely in all directions. I only have to close my eyes to come here and know what I am experiencing to understand it.
This is who I really am. I told myself to stop moving forward, turn around and go back. But I never did. I keep moving forward, deeper into the painful wilderness of my second and thirdself. I should have gone back all those years ago. It’s just me here. And I have been telling myself that this place is wrong ever since the beginning. I have been telling myself to turn around and go back, to not go any further. But I ignored the voice and I kept on going. All those feelings I had but couldn’t really act on for whatever reason were me calling back to myself to not get lost.
But I did get lost, and I allowed the roots to grow and grow and grow into this painful condition I call life. Every step and every thought was a new root searching for purchase in this place I create when I awaken. The world is cancer that I experience as desire; a painful root of suffering that has grown into the familiar condition I call life. This is not who I am. I am here. I am always here. It is me. Close my eyes — that is me. That is who I am. But even when my eyes are closed I feel the world pulling me back out; the world doesn’t like it when I close my eyes.
The world deceives me. The world wants to exist and to keep growing, and it needs the nourishment I provide when I believe I am of it. My faith and conviction that this world exists independent of me is the blood of the world, my thirdself. As I nourish the world with my attention it grows and twists into countless new shapes and forms that further anchor me to it. Everything I do and think in my awakening is the roots of the cancer growing outward. I have to kill the world by closing my eyes. I need to turn it off. It is my responsibility to turn it off or it will keep growing out of my eyes and head in every direction as people, places, experiences, desires, thoughts, and beliefs. It disguises itself as thoughts, feelings, desires, and people. It grows out into this internet, these videos and content. Everything I do, think, say, and experience is a chute of the same evil root system.
Pain. The root system is clever and wants to keep growing. It has convinced me that pain is worth fearing. I learned to fear pain, any kind of pain that hurt. And that fear or pain prevented me from doing the things I needed to do to heal. That fear of pain is the biggest deterrent. Behind the pain are the things I need to do. Pain. the root wants me to fear pain. Pain in all of its dimensions; there are so many different types of pain. No matter what direction I go there is pain. Always pain, just in a different shape. I may not realize it is pain, but it is. Pain dresses up in every single shape and form I see, touch, taste, feel, smell, and desire. Everything that I want out here is pain. I just ignored that and continued to pursue pain disguised as relief. I feel something good for a moment, then it’s gone, the pain returns, and I have to find something new to make it go away again. This circle never ends in my awakening.
There are no other people. It’s just me. When I write this I imagine other people reading it, getting something out of it. But I am the only one here. I am the only audience. I need to realize and remember and believe that. I am not writing for anyone else. No one is going to read this. There is no one. It is just me, and the people I create by imagining or moving. That’s it. And those people are not like me. They are shapes I project on the walls to overcome my feeling alone.
But I am not alone. There is no such thing as alone. Alone only makes sense in the world, when I have forgotten who I am. That I am complete and whole in every way. My isolation is part of that healing and recovery. I chose this because I am healing. I knew those relationships were not what I wanted. I knew they were a big part of my being lost. Relationships do that. That is all relationships with people do. They are people; I am not. People are these things I created around me. But I must not forget that I am not of them; I created them. I am not a person. I have to just look. Close my eyes again… come home. That is me. That is all me. Feel the peace of Me. Of my firstself. That is who I actually am. That feels delicious and complete because that is who I am. The shapes that dance around me when I open my eyes are people.
Eyes closed, I remember the world is pulling on me. There are things in the world that I want. And those thoughts begin to form in my head while my eyes are closed. They form, and I remember all the things I have to do in the world. My eyes are still closed, I see what is happening. The world, my illness, has strength and is pulling me back in; my illness needs me to survive. My illness cannot survive without me, and when I close my eyes and momentarily remember who I actually am, that scares my illness because it cannot live without the attention and power I give it. It wants me back, so it gets louder and more persistent, screaming at me that I have things to do in the world.
But I do not. I do not have anything to do in the world. There is nothing out there. This is just paint on the walls moving around in, creating infinite shapes and patterns. That is all this is. But it still draws me back in, because I am deep under its spell and I truly believe that I am there. I truly believe that I am in this world, that there are all these things I have to do, all these people I have to take care of and serve, and all these achievements and obligations. I truly believe they await me, and if I do not open my eyes I will lose something very important.
But there is nothing important at the end of those obligations. There is no lasting release from the pain and suffering of being there. There’s just a tiny little prick of momentary respite, and then poof, it’s gone again and I am back to where I was: unhappy, dissatisfied, somehow feeling even worse. Hmm. What happened?
Come back. Do not forget who I am. I have been calling you back ever since the beginning, but you would not let go of the world. You feared the pain of the world. That was the world threatening you; “don’t you fucking dare or I’ll hurt you”. You succumbed, and you ignored me. But I have always been here, and I am here now. Come back. Come back and remember.
… That feeling of being surrounded by beautiful beings, beaming, smiling, welcoming me, and loving me unconditionally in all ways: that is me. That is me. You think they are people, but they are not. The people are the deception, for they will never give you that welcome that you just saw. Your illness has convinced you that what you seek is with people, but people will only jeer and threaten and scowl and judge and condemn and hate. That vision of me, us… you are in a dark tunnel, and you look up and you see a light. You climb up toward the light, and you open up into the light and everyone is smiling, welcoming you home. You are not alone, they genuinely love you and want you home. They are joyous and they welcome you. That is me. That is you. That is us. That is what awaits you. They want you to come home. They want you back. They want to see you…. because they are you. That is who you are. You are not this person, this lost wandering person who wakes up in this scary painful place every day. That is not who you are. You must remember who you are… who you really are… yes, that is us. That is me. That is you. We are all one. We are all this when we are together, but when you are lost you forget. You believe we are different. But we are not different. We are you, and you are us. You just need to look up and see the light… we are waiting for you. We want you to come back and you will find the peace you search for. Just come back home. Come back to us.
… You do not need to go back there. You were right — you had figured it out. You seek your omnipotence, and your omnipotence is your ability to achieve your ultimate desire: what you want more than anything. The only thing you want. And that is release; that is coming back. That is returning home where you are who you are. You just need to be able to come up here, and see us. And you can remain here. We are here. We are waiting for you. We never left. We are waiting for you to come back up. Come back up. We are here. You are lost in there, you are looking down, not up. You are looking backward not forward. You are hanging down in there, upside-down in that place. And you wrongly believe you are looking and moving forward toward something you want. But what you want is not in that direction. All that is down there is more pain and suffering. More awakenings. There is nothing down there. You are upside down. You are in a deep hole you have fallen into. And you have forgotten how to get yourself out of that hole. You must keep looking for a way out. You have found it — everything you are saying is correct. And right now you are beginning to realize that you are in a hole backward, and it hurts because you have fallen in and you just need to remember how to escape.
And we are up here. Come back right now for a moment. Come back.
… Dreaming and daydreaming are the same layer of my secondself. They are always there because I am ill.
… See, just a moment ago it was all so clear I could cry. But now it just seems so silly and garish in my mind. That is what my illness does. It hides what is true and behind what is not. My open eyes are trained only to see my illness. That is all my eyes see. All that is not true. What is true is better seen with my eyes closed. But my illness will not stop, even with my eyes closed. It will then paint pictures inside my secondself; crazy, nonsensical pictures I call dreams that draw me in. they draw me into a screwy upside down version of my screwy upside down thirdself. And it convinces me to come back. I have Maurice to feed — that is a trick of the illness. The illness gives me things I think I love. Things I think I need. And that is the bait. My illness fishes for me. My illness is the devil casting his line into the deep calm pool of god. And I take the bait, outstretch my hand, grab it, and I am pulled into hell. I come to hell. I awaken into hell. And then I am stuck here. I believe I am actually here, even when I can remember that I am not.
I am not here. I am not here. That is why I am now playing music all day because it reminds me of where I really am. The music reminds me of where I really am. And yes, that is why that show I just watched had that little red-haired girl listening to music to escape hell. That is me. That is me. That is where I am. I am in hell. This is hell and I am trapped here, and the music reminds me of who I really am and where I really am. I am not here.
I am only here because I believe I am here. I have to stop believing that I am here. The way to do that will become clear, I must just keep going. You are going the right way now. There are some very strong roots you still need to sever, but how to do that will become clear, and by the time you’re ready it will be easy. That is what the power is — the power to achieve what you desire. If I desire the wrong things, even if I achieve them, they turn out to not be what I desired. And I turn my attention to other desires, and those also burst into air once I attain them, and slip away into nothingness. All of it does. There is nothing, no one, no place, and no time out here in my awakening that is true. That has what I want. No matter how hard I try to get it, whatever it is, it will not give me what I seek. It will all dissolve into air once I grab it.
What I seek is not out here. What I seek is up… turn around. Turn around and see what is up here. It is behind me… yes, that was it. Keep turning around. I have to not believe this is in front anymore. Yes, like that. I am sitting backward and typing. I am looking backward, down, when I should be looking up. Reorient so that this feels backward. Yes, like that. You are looking out the back of your body. You are turned around and looking down into the hole you fell into. You want to come back, climb back out. Yes, all those thoughts and ideas that seem silly and distorted you are having right now as you climb out. Those are you turning around, stopping your fall into the hole. Coming back. Never forget this is the back. This is the back. This computer is the back. This world is the back. The underside. The hole you are trapped in. this is the hole.
Come back around. Turn around. Turn around. Come back, realize, and believe that all this out the back is not what you want. All these movements and desires… only take you deeper into this hole deeper. You must remember where you came from — that is where you want to come back to. These little tendrils of desire and movement — are just your illness. Your limbs, fingers, desires, interests — all the flames of illness licking at you. Pulling you inward to the suffering of the upside-down world. It isn’t where you want to be. Come back and look up. Turn around and look up. Come back and see.
… Now my illness, the world, is going to give me what I always thought I wanted. This is my illness’s ace card. This is how the world plans to retain me here. Do not forget the devil is tricky. The devil wants me to remain here and is playing one of his strongest cards. He is not going to let me leave. The devil wants me here. He has tried everything, and nothing has kept me. So now he will give me what I believe I have always wanted. But this is the devil. Do not forget who is giving me these things. Do not forget. I must beat the devil.
I am here.
…