Go back to the shock of your birth and just accept it without forming a concept. All suffering arose from the attempt to form a concept to explain the explosion of the universe.Go back to that moment, but this time don't invent a mind of shock like the one you invented before, and before, and before, all the way back to the beginning of the dream, the dream that is only a reaction to the unendurable astonishment of your birth. Have compassion for this mind you formed as a reaction to the explosion of consciousness. This mind has been contracting the cosmos into a limited idea in your head ever since that first moment. Now go back, T'shuvah, return. That is the only religion, the only prayer, the only path. Forgive yourself. Then don't react anymore.
Kiss the rose of creation, bury your nose in its fragrant madness. The flowering of the cosmos has no purpose, no direction, no plan, no design. "Design" and "purpose" are concepts projected onto that ineffable explosion by the fear-mind, and the mind is made of that fear. Now be born again without the fear, without the mind. Embrace the explosion of the rose, and be honored that you are the Witness. Just be the rose witnessing itself in the mirror of its own consciousness. You are both the object and the subject. The world radiates out of the brilliant mirror of your Self.
When you embrace the rose with all your heart, the flower is solid as a diamond and the thorns are soft as petals. There is only bliss, because there are no boundaries. Bliss is not a reward for getting it "right," or "understanding," or "finding" an answer to be sought. There's nothing to seek and therefor any search is itself the cause of suffering.
When this seeking for an explanation dissolves, bliss simply Is. The boundless pervades every appearance of boundaries. You
are the cosmic rose swirling with galaxies, atoms, barking dogs, children's faces, dandelions. And don't even begin to try to understand why you have a body. Evidently, the universe blossomed into your eyes, your ears, your nostrils, your skin, just to witness the ineluctable explosion of its rose. What arises in the total embrace of this moment of eternal birth is not fear, doubt, and confusion, but gratitude.
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