Countless "things," swarming "diversity," constant "motion," all that we call "the world": appearances reflected on the clear continuum of a mirror. And these ever-changing images are the very stillness of the mirror. The fullness of the world is the very emptiness of the glass.
When you taste the wonder of this mirror as your own pure awareness, every nerve in your body will thrill with the discovery that the many are One, even while manifesting multitude, and the past is Here, in the seamless eternity of the present moment. Then all is suddenly weightless, effortless, joyfully poignant and poignantly joyful, through an instantaneous perishing, an instantaneous regeneration.
A single kiss of this mirror, which is your Self, dispels the trauma of a thousand lifetimes, which is not your Self. Those lifetimes are reflections in the glass. Yes, you stored the trauma in the cells of your body. Yet each cell, each atom, is pervaded by mirror stillness, mirror emptiness. And when you meditate, if you do real meditation, you can feel this. It is self-evident. It doesn't have to be "believed."
Those lifetimes don't disappear. Their validity, as appearances, is not lost. They will ever float in the silent transparency of the reflection on the glass. What dissolves is their suffering, their heaviness, their bondage.
Suffering dissolves when you feel, taste, grok, and tremble with seeing: seeing Every-thing that dances, from the beginning til the end of time, as No-thing. The world as the tremor of a dewdrop. Past and future a mirage, a mirage that whirls in translucent Presence. As appearance, it is real. As substance, no. As substance, there is only energy, and in the final analysis, that energy is bliss.
None of this has any value as intellectual belief, as "non-dual" philosophy, desperately held in the ghostly edifice of thought. The truth must be a visceral sensation, tasted on the tongue tip of each neuron, seen through the eye of each cell in the hologram of your body.
Feel this weightlessness in your bones, this fiery instant dissolution of All into No-thing. Don't merely witness this dance. Be the dance. Be the trembling stillness of the mirror, in which you behold the trembling stillness of the mirror, in which your silence dissolves into deeper silence, until the curve of the wave of your subtlest heartbeat touches the asymptote of God.
Photo by Michael Whittaker
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