So begins another day. A few didn’t make it till morning. Of course, waking up is a curious phenomena. I seem to feel that we are always awake – but what we call waking up is really filling that awake space with our specific hard drive – with its pre set programs, memories, and virus. Instantly we have personalized this Universe when we wake up.
I wake up. I see the bright light, greens, a thought enters leading to a million others. Reality around me is quickly replaced. My eyes see but my mind does not. So it’s a strange seeing. Even what my eyes see is not fresh. Im not even sure if Im seeing the tree in front of me. Or is this an image that has been loaded into my brain – the image of a tree and I don’t see the tree in front of me. Is this the magic that the Impressionist painters discovered. Found a way in which they could fight back the inner images and capture a true seeing?
So what is reality – if everything is a personal interpretation? And who is experiencing the reality? Or is the experiencer the only reality? How do we go back to the experiencer? Where is the experiencer? Where did he come from ? When did he ( or I?) start experiencing? And what is experiencing for me? A sensation ? A feeling? An image? And why is there such an ache to find all this?
Is this the crushing pain that comes from realising that the reality on the basis of which we built a whole life is unreal? It’s a movie set l? Is it about freedom. Freedom from unreal? Freedom to know oneself and thereby live in dignity.
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