I think I’m on to something with this lobotomy business. It is both obvious and impossible to get that all I have is this moment in which to realize the truth. Over and over. And over and over I’ve been doing this thing of relaxing the brain and realizing that the truth of this moment does not include me, you know – as I think of me.
How can I describe this. It’s kind of like this – in a given moment I decide to see the truth, which I can clearly, instantly see is not any single thought I might have. Including subtle thoughts like “that bird is outside of me.” And here’s an interesting thing about that one – look at something with great awareness, even something beautiful like a little finch chirping around the yard, and notice that when the mind is engaged around that, even saying something like “what a pretty bird has come to grace my presence,” there is anxiety. And the reason for that is that that bird is not out there. It is me. When I look inside and see that everything outside is actually inside, there is relief, relaxation, freedom. Because that is the truth. You might have to look closely for the anxiety that arises when you are looking at, say, a beautiful sunset, but look closely and you will see there is some grasping or aversion in relation to everything if we think it is outside of us. Because it isn’t.
But to realize the truth, I don’t have to force myself to see that that finch is not outside of me. I just have to realize that there isn’t a single thought I can have about that bird that is true. And then I stop trying to define the bird, or myself in relation to the bird, or the moment at all. And then what’s left?
Exactly. What is left.