Sunday, February 12

I Am that You Are, You Are That I Am

It's like one painting that has a thousand different stories being told all within it. We tend to believe that an art piece is showing one main message through one representation of that message.

Life is a little like that - only the one message and the representation of that one message are being told through a thousand and one different stories. We're under the illusion that we are living separate lives, recanting separate stories of a me, myself, and single I.

Only we're not.

The seeming single I is a pattern writing itself through countless seemingly independent systems. There is no you or I, there is only that appearance...a silhouette whatever it is that is being human casts for its mischievous pleasure. This is no clearer to me than when I am physically next to an apparent other. Some how our sphere's of being begin to mingle, I feel us merge as our seemingly separate bubbles of beingness flirt and wave and suddenly, there's no longer a him or her over there. There is only this seeing happening, this being, that has no end or beginning.

In those moments, I know that I know that I know...that I Am that You Are, and You Are That I Am.

Your brain hallucinates your conscious reality

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