What Remains When You Disappear
Lo que permanece cuando desapareces
A student, heart pounding and unsure what to say, meets the flow of aliveness and the discovery that something continues to see even when the sense of self falls away.
What Remains When You Disappear
A student, heart pounding and unsure what to say, meets the flow of aliveness and the discovery that something continues to see even when the sense of self falls away.
My heart is pounding. I don't have very much to say, really.
Just let the vitality flow, the rush of aliveness. Just seeing, no seer. It's all one flow, boundless.
There's a sense of self trying to assert itself.
Is there fear?
I don't know. There's something else. It's over there, hiding.
And what knows that? What always sees you here?
The self that comes and goes
It's been clear when the sense of self disappears. But then it comes back.
The light is back, yes. Go ahead.
It's still there when the self returns.
When the self disappears, this truth is known: the self can be gone, and you remain. Now, when it returns, don't expect that it needs to leave again. You simply know it is here. It's not "I." Not "I."
This is quite new.
And so that vitality, that rush. I sense even a mix of joy and fear. Just let that flow.
Nothing needs to change.
And yet everything is changing constantly.
Even in that "nothing needs to change," there's a pull.
Everything is moving. Everything is moving.
The habit of contraction
I keep seeing something trying to try.
Trying to try.
Trying to try, or thinking about something that doesn't mean anything at the moment.
Trying to try and failing. Attempting the impossible.
I'm not sure what it's trying to do. It feels like an old habit.
Just the habit of it. Attempting to contract, attempting the illusion of contraction, attempting to preserve the illusion.
It's as if this is going to be lost.
Everything that can be lost doesn't matter.
That doesn't land. That's what I'm saying.
What can be lost is not important. What we're looking for cannot be lost. It can only be found. And it is always this.
What cannot be unseen
There's still worry about losing it.
Losing what? Losing sanity, or losing something?
Losing what's just being recognized. Though "recognized" doesn't really make sense.
The experience will change, because all experience changes. But what you've seen cannot be unseen, and that's what matters. The experiences of release will come and go. There's a contraction and then an expansion, and there's an experience in that. Once we are uncontracted, the experience of expansion can settle.
I quite want to just go and dance outside, if that's okay.
Yes, it sounds amazing. I'll enjoy that vicariously. Just let the vitality flow. Be attuned to what feels right. Listen to your body. Just that.
Thank you doesn't really cover it.
I get it. It's a pleasure. It's that taste.
Thank you. I'm going to go outside now.
You're welcome. My pleasure.