This comes from the comments on, Question and Answer (or Question and Question?) Part Two. (Plus, something new at the end.)
I would like to suggest something and I hope you do not take offense. Perhaps it is right or wrong, my mind continues to evolve and I cannot say. The moment you died, a belief shift occurred. You decided that this moment was perfect, that your thoughts were what was making you suffer. You experience the effects of that belief. That belief creates an experience that is wonderful and joyous and perfect and needs nothing more.
It is true that we can believe something to be joyous and we will indeed experience joy. It is not a difficult thing to get our heads around. Or we can believe something to be horrible and we will live in that horror.
I wanted to find out what is there without belief at all. Not say that it is right or wrong. If I believe it to be right, I have gone nowhere. I would still be inside of thought.
If in the moment of death, a belief shift occurred, then I would question if death actually arrived. If I decide the moment is perfect, then I am sure to see my idea of perfection. But then again, I have to have an idea of what is right, then project it onto reality, then everything I see is perfect. If that is what I do, am I really seeing anything? Or just my idea of what is perfect?
And what happens if someone or something challenges my idea of perfection?
It is a serious thing we should all consider at some point in our lives. If I decide what perfection is, have a conclusion, and live through that, is that living? I am still seeing through thought, although it might be a prettier thought than the last one.
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This was written about nine months ago when I was visiting the United States. I’ll add a few thoughts on the same topic here.
Belief is cumbersome. Very heavy. A massive amount if energy is spent holding up the illusion day after day.
When there was an “I” that believed, HE sank to the bottom from the burden’s heavy weight. But when HE died, the being was free to move, free to fly.
HE is sunk, gone, a shadowy memory. And yet the organism still goes on and on.
HE used to blame others for his stupidity. HE would live in awful situations but never take responsibility. And even with the facts before HIM, it was never clear because of what HE believed.
The ideals, the beliefs, were so comforting yet dangerous. HE could stay there, because that is all HE knew. Even though HE wasn’t living. It was a life lived on referral.
The reference point was always there, you see. Something would happen, and the manual of the mind, the beliefs, the shoulds and should nots, would rise up before HIM, and using that palette of dull color HE would react.
The fact would be before HIM, but all HE could see was the choice. “Based on this, I choose this!”
But after HE died, there were no longer any choices; no longer any grays, charcoals, or ashes on the palette.
All that is left is timelessness.
Being.
Breathe in, breathe out.
It still has friends, but there is really no way to know. People seem to arrive and leave. Then the cycle repeats.
It sees other beings moving gracefully through the streets. Their faces have a timeless quality. So beautiful. They are already enlightened, but why don’t THEY see it?
The answer is in the question.
Last night it felt the rain on its face, but it was never cold.
