What is This?
Who am I?
What am I?
What kind of answers am I looking for?
What could satisfy?
Questions are beautiful, more illuminating than answers. Questions stop the mind.
So if I told you “you are consciousness”, would that help?
Would you be satisfied?
Would your suffering diminish at all with that piece of information?
Perhaps you could hold that thought in your mind, maybe you could write it down, repeat it as a mantra, an affirmation, a bumper sticker.
But is it true? For you?
Or is it just a hope, or an aspiration, some idea you like the sound of, so you repeat it to yourself.
But all the while you suffer from the other thoughts that assail you.
And if only you could banish those ones that trouble you, and keep the ones you like…
You got it all worked out.
You’d be happy if….
You’d be free if…
What if I were to tell you that your happiness was already here?
That your freedom is on THIS side of your experiencing?
Not on the far side of some desire or condition you’ve artificially imposed.
You betray your birthright when you forgo what is here for what is not.
The real for the dream.
And you miss the essential wholeness and completeness when you sacrifice reality for a lie.
All that we are is contained in love
The ‘fact’ of the answer becomes a thing to hold, to grasp, to identify with, to maintain, to defend, to lose.
Do you have an empty cup?
Can we drop all the teachings now and simply be?
Teachings get cumbersome, they get reified into persistent things, they become a hook to hang your coat on.
Questions are better