The world around us is a land of beauty. From the highest mountains down to the smallest speck of dirt on your shoe, it is all there for us to see. The greatest silence can be found in all of those things. Enlightenment is everywhere in the world, but it is hidden in the most ingenious of places. Living in this freedom is like living in an unknown land. There are signposts, various locales, and endless faces, but you cannot know any of them. They come and go as you pass through the night. The physical body is there, but illusion is not.
Built in to the physical organism, is this enlightenment, this thing that brings to everything and nothing. It encompasses all, but captures nothing. It is already within.
But also, within the organism, is the search. The search for this enlightenment. But it is defective. It is like a cruel game played on us by our older sibling, used to lure us out, drawing our trust through our naivety, never showing the true source of what is sought. It is just a game, and we gladly waste out time, thinking we are spending it with our best friend.
What the searcher does not know is every thing it seeks is left at home. All the time we spend seeking, takes us further from what we seek. It is a cruel game that follows us to death, and we never realize how long we've played.
For a moment, just for a moment, imagine that there is nothing at all to seek. In fact, there is not even a searcher. You are just this organism that you are, with no idea to the contrary, Thoughts come, and thoughts go. There is never a need to hang on, or grab them for fear of losing them. They are what they are, and you have no desire to control or stop them.
You have your memories; you know your first grade teacher's name, your current phone number, the date of your birth, and maybe even the starting line-up for the Boston Red Sox. This is all knowledge, and that is all it is. It comes and it goes.
There is also another kind of memory; your "soul-mate," the man or woman of your dreams, has cheated on you. Your grandmother died suddenly before there was a chance to say anything. Your best friend killed himself when you were thirteen. These are all memories as well, but what part do they play? How are they used in the mind? These are the ones you like to think about, and they give the self some weight for its own continuity. These events seem to make your experience unique, and unparalleled. It is a way to separate yourself from others so that the self continues to dominate.
My girlfriend cheated, and now I can be pitied.
My grandmother died, and now I can be loved more by other relatives.
My best friend killed himself, and now I have a reason to suffer. I no longer have to invent anything.
We spend our time here. We find reason to be pitied, and to pity our own existence. My self needs attention, and if I have a crisis, I can get it. It is all about what can be acquired. But what if there is no self there? If there is no searcher, how are these thoughts received?
My girlfriend cheated. Now I know I am better off without her. How else could it have been shown to me so clearly?
My grandmother died suddenly, and it taught me to appreciate every interaction with other human beings. The next time is the last time.
My friend killed himself, and it teaches that logical conclusions cannot necessarily be expected to occur. The time spent together was grand, regardless of the ending.
These thoughts occur, they are seen, and they retreat on their own. I don't have to run after them, because they are always in there somewhere. There is no need to attach to them.
Thought might tell you that something else should have happened, but please do not believe it. What happened was the only thing that could have occurred. The moment you want it to be different from what it is, the destruction begins. Humanity no longer needs to live in this way. Stab me, shoot me, throw me off a cliff, but don't make me believe my thoughts. That is the only real pain in this universe.
Don't ask the question "Why?" The fragments that appear through that question are monstrous. Your friends have left, or are dead, and you are gone or dead right along with them. You cannot express the light that is there within you. It is stifled through your thoughts of what should be. Let them go, and express what is left over. The world needs more like you, and you cannot be there if your time is taken up by all the ghosts in your thoughts.
Let go and live. Live for the expression of living, and live for those that can no longer do so.
Go until you are gone.