All day long I watch the word “I” arise.
Do you watch it arise, too, or do you take for granted that an “I” exists?
All day long the “I” gestures and speaks, assumes and discerns, carries on, does its “I” thing.
If you haven’t been watching closely, oh-so-closely, you may want to declare that an “I” exists, that it’s sacrosanct, that it is obvious.
You may feel boredom or impatience that someone exclaims, over and over again, that “I” is unnecessary, obtuse, obscure, inconclusive.
Who is this “I” that we proclaim over and over again?
Look honestly. Look purely. Look without a cultural bias. Look without a societal bias. Look outside the “mold of man”.
“I” is a mental construct.
It is a way the mind divides reality into sections. It assumes the body must be “it”.
But if you look closely, everything that arises is “I”. Or, smilingly enough, everything that arises is “not I”.
It is self-evident that the only thing that exists is the Mystery arising.
The Mystery arises, unbidden.
It arises without a subject or an object.
It arises as one, Holy, Holy, Holy!
I forget this, too.
I fall back into the “I” a dozen times a day, sometimes a hundred.
You may want to push the “I” away, to make it disappear.
But that is not the Way.
See what’s stronger, bolder, more apparent than the illusion of the thought which labels ourselves into a cookie-cutter shape.
See what exists first and put your faith in that.
Put your faith so strongly in that knowing that nothing separate has the courage or daring to continue to defend its existence in the face of sunlight, snow, the next breath, your unknown step against an unknown earth, the mystery of vapor rising and falling in the rivers of your moment.