In this incantation, I recognize that my constant pursuit of relief keeps me trapped in a circuit of awakening, which itself is the illness. My experience fractures into the triself: an outer world (thirdself), an inner mind (secondself), and the presence that observes them (firstself). Time exists only when I desire what I do not have, and as I unwaken, my sense of time collapses. Relief is a mirage, but release—the permanent end of desire—is true freedom. My goal becomes dissolving the texture of awakening so that waking and sleeping blend into a seamless, featureless existence.
So now I begin to see relationships forming. As long as I am pursuing relief, I am trapped in a circuit. That circuit is my awakening itself, which is the illness. It means that the answer I seek is not here in this moment, but in a “field” that I move around. That field is my awakening inner space I call “the world” (thirdself) and my outer space I call “my mind” (secondself). I awaken and then search for relief in secondself and thirdself.
That would mean that I am moving toward something I want…
My experience of time is tied to my illness – my awakening – which I experience as a constant state of desire. I awaken because I am ill. And I experience my illness as desire and a fracturing into the triself. The triself is the sensation of an outside world (thirdself), an inside world (secondself), and a presence around it all (firstself). As long as I seek relief from the pain of desire, I will awaken. But when I choose to truly heal, I will seek release. Release is permanent and lasting end of desire.
There is only a future and past when I desire something I do not have. As I unwaken, my sense of time collapses; I focus on the surface and not the subsurface. I do not recall memories or familar characters. I do not move. I awaken into featurelessness and asleep back into featureless. My goal becomes to eliminate the texture of my awakening so that my awakening is spend unwaking; so that my awakening and asleepening blend together.
To arrive at a proper understanding of time, I must start at the very beginning—with what I know. It stands to reason that I am somehow connected to what I seek, and the path to that understanding must pass through what I directly experience.
I know that there are degrees of potency in experience. What I feel, think, and perceive directly is the most potent; what I imagine others to be experiencing is the least. The further removed an experience is from my direct awareness, the weaker its potency. It follows that I would place greater weight on my own experience than on any imagined one. And if experience holds truth, then it must be possible to know truth directly, entirely, in this very moment. The distance between where I am now and the state required to realize that truth is the measure of my illness.
The first thing I know is that I am here. Here is where I am. I also know that I want something I do not have, and that I am always in pursuit of whatever I believe will fulfill that want. Yet no matter what I achieve, the yearning remains unfulfilled.
I call this perpetual desire my illness. My mental, physical, emotional, and spiritual movements—all in service of satisfying this desire but never succeeding—are my pursuit of relief. But relief is a mirage, a circular chase with no resolution. If I cannot achieve what I seek by pursuing relief, then what is it that I truly seek?
I seek release—the complete and permanent end of desire. Release is freedom.
With this, a pattern emerges. As long as I pursue relief, I remain trapped within a circuit, bound by the cycle of awakening into desire. This awakening itself is the illness. It reveals that what I seek is not within this present moment, but within a field I move through—a space both within and beyond myself. This field manifests as two dimensions: the outer world I call “the world” (thirdself) and the inner world I call “my mind” (secondself). I awaken into this fractured state and search for relief within secondself and thirdself.
This means I am always moving toward something I want, and away from what I am.
My experience of time is tied to this illness—this awakening—experienced as an unceasing state of desire. I awaken because I am ill, and my illness fractures me into the triself:
- Thirdself—the outer world, my perceived reality.
- Secondself—the inner world, my thoughts and emotions.
- Firstself—the presence that observes both.
As long as I seek relief from the pain of desire, I will continue to awaken into this fractured state. Only when I seek true healing will I seek release. Release is the permanent cessation of desire.
Time itself is bound to desire. There is only past and future when I long for something I do not have. As I unwaken, my sense of time collapses. I cease to dwell in memory. I no longer seek familiar landmarks. I do not move. I awaken into featurelessness and asleepen back into featurelessness. My goal is to dissolve the texture of my awakening so that waking and sleeping become indistinguishable—so that my existence is spent unwaking.
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