Your life is not your responsibility, you’re not doing it, you’re not ‘living’ your life, if anything life is living you. It’s important to recognize this. The burden of activity is not yours. Doership is a concept that has been imposed on the uncaused nature of life. Even the notion of a cosmic, supreme doer is an imposition.
We have the power of observation and discrimination. Use it to see what’s true and what’s not. Go find a doer if you can, at any level, in any realm of reality. Observe as awareness itself, see the waves of life move without cause, or need for cause. A singular flow of appearance arising in emptiness. These appearances are mindstuff, the cogitations of universal being. You.
What’s it going to take for you to admit your Divinity? It’s you, you, you!
But I’m not talking to this body-appearance you take yourself to be. You are not the body, stop orienting yourself around it. The buzz of sensations and memories, projections and opinions are just a bundle of noise in your transparent, unbounded nature.
Am I wasting my words? Who is hearing this? The person? Or the uncaused being that you are?
Who hears hearing? Who knows knowing?
Can an object know itself? Can the seen be the seer?
Don’t be too quick to answer the questions. Observe what’s true in your experience, in your awareness, awareness itself – yourself – your Self – the Self.
Identify the sense I AM. This is ananda, bliss. From here the world flows. The Great Tao.
The Truth is here if you want it, not ‘there’ in the objects of awareness. And when you see this, then there’s no ‘there’ – just This.
All is ‘I’
And Atma is Brahm.
Who can see this, know this?
All that is, is consciousness.
Who could know this?
Be conscious, of being conscious.
Don’t think about it, just be aware.
Notice what’s already true.
You are aware, you are awareness.
Why jump into the mud of personhood? Why wrestle with the ghosts and projections of the deluded mind?
You are the pristine mind and all that appears shares your nature. Modulations occur spontaneously, the dance and play of life. The tissues of existence so seemingly robust are subtle beyond measure, the fabric of emptiness.
Where is this ‘world’? From where does it come and to where does it go?