That emptiness is here. It came quickly and caught me unaware. there is immense energy here, and a feeling of not being a part of the universe, but being the universe itself. There is a sense of being breathed, as others have called it. I look around and I have no idea what is going on around me. There is no thinker to point things out. I am completely alone, and it is beautiful. From here, there is no sense of space (intervening space between objects) or time. Everything is here. It explodes simultaneously. It is amazing to have no sense of time. How long have I been sitting here? Do people still kill one another? Do they still hate because others are seemingly different from themselves? Is there still political, religious, social, and nationalistic division? I have to question that, because none of it is here. I sit here in this chair, and I am alone in the universe, and I alone am the universe; outside of every system ever conceived.
How could this have ever occurred? Where is this incredible energy coming from? Why do I look at the baby in the stroller across the room and only see myself? Not as a literal projection, but as something that is not seperate from this organism. I am not really sure why, or that it even matters. I am keen to find out, however.
I have read a lot of posts on the internet these days about "Levels of Consciousness," and those sorts of things. By "Levels" they seem to mean a scale of some sort. If you are greedy, then that is a lower level of consciousness, and if you are loving, that is a higher level of consciousness. I question all of this. All of the various states they talk about are contained within the very same consciousness. If one projects love or greed are apathy or whatever, it is a projection of consciousness. What they are talking about are all contents of the same consciousness.
How can there be any level other than what is? Thinking of it as something that is fragmented, and somehow apart from the self, doesn't make sense. All of my pain and suffering, and even what I thought was joy and love, were all contents and little fragments of consciousness. I wanted them to be different. I wanted to embrace what was good, and reject what was bad, not realizing they sprang from a source not apart from the self. The "I" somehow wanted to get away from it, never realizing that "I" AM IT. I was so shattered, and I somehow believed that the "I" was somehow different from the fragments. The "I" wanting to escape was the biggest fragment of all. Maybe that is why it somehow seemed to be separate. The "I" thinks of itself as a center, of sorts. So it cannot see that it is the same as all the other little pieces. Thought drove itself mad, trying to escape from itself. When I realized that there is nothing to escape from, nothing to be free from, my prison destroyed itself.
I wonder if others view these "Levels of Consciousness" as something to work on or attain. Why would you want to attain something you already have? I can certainly remember the need to be something better or different from what I was. It did nothing but take me further away from what I sought. But the seeking was a part of the problem, as well. I sought after what I already had, and every time I would look somewhere outside of myself, I was left disappointed. I kept pulling away from what was here inside of this organism.
This life is perfection, once one meets with reality and stays there. Life is immense and wonderful.