Suddenly you discover it’s really true.
There is no “you”.
It’s the greatest con-game we’re playing with ourselves.
It’s a smash Broadway hit.
It’s a high school play.
It’s a drama, a comedy, some war-time action, a mystery.
We’re so identified with our characters we forget it’s a play.
Until we start to wake up. Some people say that sentence is silly. Either you’re awake or you’re asleep. If you’re asleep you think you’re a person. If you’re awake you know you’re–
And here’s where it all stops. Because if you think one more word you’re back in personhood. You’re back in the play. You can’t say anything.
And yet you do.
When you’re awake you don’t exist. So you can never awaken. The personality can never awaken. Kathy can never awaken. But something–which is already awake before Kathy dreamed she could or should awaken–moves to the forefront.
The movie gets more intriguing. Nay, not more intriguing…more alive. Vibrant. Shimmering. Fascinating.
Please do not believe anything I say. I am neither awake nor asleep. Ooops, sorry, every word in that last sentence was not true. Forget the word “I”. Forget the conceptual labeling of sleeping and waking–how ridiculous! A Mind must have made that up.
Even to discuss this is a bust. Others–who don’t really exist either–will suddenly want to wake up. And their wanting will be a journey into the deepest suffering because it’s wanting, wanting, wanting, strengthening the dream-character. Yet if you don’t want, you may also think there is a you pouring your tea, running outside to get the mail, typing on your keyboard, reading this non-existent essay.
So why would you toss words like bits of fish food to silver and blue and golden fish? Because they’re hungry? Because you’re still hungry? Let the fish be the fish! Or let yourself say these words because they’re coming, they’re arriving unannounced, they’re leaving their trail of crumbs to feed the hungry, to kill the hungry, to do whatever words and crumbs do.
I watch the person die and resurrect, die and resurrect, daily, hourly…except, wait a minute, time doesn’t exist when you’re not even a person so how can you say that either? One minute there’s a person telling a story and thinking she’s telling a story and the next minute
there is woodstove humming, light streaming through window, trees against yellow sky, cold feet, soft fingers, breathing, breathing, listening, keyboard clicking, none of it me, all of it me and suddenly, without another thought, the blog ends.