Finding Home

Life already has started. No need to wait. This is it. There is no other place to go.

Time is only from the mind. Thoughts that can bend space and time. But they are only part of reality, not the whole. We can only see the parts, black or white, up or down.

I forget the whole, I can’t see it, I can’t touch it.

My finger can touch and feel all the objects of the world, but it cannot touch itself. My eyes see, but not themselves.

I am, yet I cannot find my self.

So often I try to be somewhere else, following all the imaginary or real pathways of my mind.

A smile. Deep fears. Confusion. Hope.

Is it the wind that is moving the flag? Or is it the flag that is moving the wind? Or maybe it is my mind that is moving it all?

Everything feels so real, yet so illusive. No common ground to find, not a single reference point to hold on to. Just a constant stream of changes, emerging from the void. Just in order to vanish after a while, seconds or years later again into nothing. A road leading nowhere. No beginning and no end. Nothing to grasp.

How to get back home? Where to go?

Let all self-definitions die in this moment. Let them go, and see what remains. See what is never born and what does not die. Feel the relief of laying down the burden of defining yourself. Experience the actual non-reality of the burden. Experience the joy that is here.

Rest in the endless peace of your true nature before any thought of I arises.

Inspiration: Sofia Indy.