Hello,
Awakeness.
I have here your story.
The body is not you or yours.
You are formless and prior to the body.
You are that from which all appearances,
Including the body,
Arise.
The body is not you.
The mind is not you or yours,
Nor are emotions.
You are formless and prior to all thought or inclination.
You are that from which all appearances rise.
The mind is not you.
You feel that you are,
But what you are is prior to language.
Whatever it is that you are,
You can only be that which precedes good or evil,
Light or dark,
Tall or small.
You are that from which all sets of opposites appear to arise.
There is no opposite to you,
No comparison,
Nor any alternative.
Neither time nor space are you or yours.
You are that which is before time,
Before space,
Before the dreaming of experiencing.
Your apparent absence is the mother of all presence,
Within which space,
Time,
And experience seem to occur.
Upon the spontaneous dream arising of a sense of consciousness or being,
Which occurs simultaneously with the sense of body birth,
You dream that you are a knower.
You dream that you know that you are.
With apparent body death,
Or even the little death of dreamless sleep,
Your dream of consciousness also drops away.
There is no knowing either that you are or that you are not.
There is void and only void,
Whose empty nature paradoxically overflows with the divine potentiality for this and experiencing this.
The barren womb of nothingness births the dream of fullness.
And together they are called love.
There is love and more love,
Endless love,
Only love.
And you are that.
Repetition is the mother of clarity.
So I'm going to read this again.
If you did not have your eyes closed the first time,
I would just suggest that unless you're driving,
That you do so now.
An awakeness.
Here is your story.
The body is not you or yours.
You are formless and prior to the body.
You are that from which all appearances,
Including the body,
Appear to rise.
The mind is not you or yours,
Nor our emotions.
You are formless and prior to all thoughts and inclinations.
You are that from which all appearances rise.
The mind is not you.
You feel that you are,
But what you are is prior to language.
Whatever it is that you are,
You can only be that which precedes good or evil,
Light or dark,
Tall or small.
You are that from which all sets of opposites appear to arise.
There is no opposite to you,
No comparison,
Nor any alternative.
Neither time nor space are you or yours.
You are that which is before time,
Before space,
Before the dreaming of experiencing.
Your apparent absence is the mother of all presence,
Within which space,
Time,
And experience occur.
Upon the spontaneous dream arising of a sense of consciousness or being,
Which occurs simultaneously with the sense of body birth,
You dream that you are a knower.
You dream that you know that you are.
With apparent body death,
Or even the little death of dreamless sleep,
Your dream of consciousness also drops away.
There is no knowing either that you are or that you are not.
There is simply no knowing.
There is void and only void,
Whose empty nature paradoxically overflows with the divine potentiality for this and experiencing this.
The barren womb of nothingness births the dream of fullness,
And together they are called love.
There is love,
More love,
Endless love,
Only love.
And you are that.