Sticks

It came, this stick (the drawing above), it came from this quote:

“I try to deny myself any illusions or delusions, and I think that this perhaps entitles me to try and deny the same to others, at least as long as they refuse to keep their fantasies to themselves.”

I responded to this quote and it was then that this stick begun to take shape. I said:

“Denying illusions doesn’t work half as well as embracing reality”.

You see, I read this quote and it felt tense, it felt confrontational, a bit combative even and I thought there must be a positive orientation, there must be a way to spin this such that there is openness and gentleness and inclusiveness. And so I said what I said.

The conversation continued. It was said that “It (the illusion) has to be understood and for the illusion to be understood, it has to first go through a process of exposure and denial, to finally realize that it is just a mirror of its own self.” and I thought: well, does it really?

Does exposing illusions for what they are, does cleaning away the noise, understanding and healing the pain, does it eventually leave me with a clear, quiet space where my self resides?

And that is the key question: does my self reside there?

Because, you see, I do imagine that clearing away illusions and noise and pain will bring me to a clear, peaceful space but … but I am not so sure that what I find in this space will be me. I am not so sure that I can find myself in this way.

Because, you see, I feel that the only way to find myself is to choose to be myself. Choose to see myself. Choose to feel myself.

Choosing not to be something in order to find what I am will not work, because I am only where I am, not where I am not.

It is this one thing. Just one. So very simple, so small, almost insignificant.

Such a little thing … yet your entire existence hangs on it. This one tiny thing that, when shifted, will change the world.

Notice the word I used: “will”. Not “could” not “might”. But “will”. With absolute certainty it will. This one little thing.

Everything else fits, everything else is right: the God is right, the eternal love, the faith and the purpose in life, and the oneness — it’s all correct. God’s unlimited, boundless power to create, to bring life and to end it — yes, it is really there.

The perfect symmetry of nature is there too, the patterns that scientists are so fond of observing. The spectacular complexity of the universe, the atoms whirling together changing, shaping, creating — yes, all this happens. It all is. Everything that everyone believes is true, everything that everyone holds dear, everything that everyone calls life. Reality. The world. God.

It all is. God is. Reality is. Life is.

It’s all right, it is all true except for the one thing. The one little, tiny, almost insignificant thing:

It is you. It is all you.

That which you observe, that which you experience, that which you believe to be a force far beyond your control, you grasp and understanding, that which shapes the universe and determines your life, that which writes the faith of societies, creates war and peace, terror and justice, hunger and comfort. God, reality, life…

It’s all you.

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“Oh you know what you want!” I thought to a friend who, not being in my head, could not hear a thing.

You know exactly what you want, you are aware of it distinctly, you can hear yourself telling yourself just what is, only…

Only there are other things you are telling yourself as well, like:

“oh I should not want this” or “my mother will hate me for wanting this” or “this is a stupid thing to want” or “he will be so disappointed in me if I want that” or “what will people say” or “this will not make me money” or ” I am not enough” or “I can’t do this to her” or …

And herein lies the issue: the thing you want gets drowned, crushed and smothered underneath a huge pile

of crap.