I live... I dream... I sleep... I wake... I eat... I drink... I poop and I pee... I cough... I read... I look, listen, I feel and I taste, in short I am aware... I body... I think...

But I also blow as the wind... I shine... I cloud... I drive and I fly and I whistle, I bicycle and I walk... I sport... I grow and I blossom... I die and I am born... I build and I demolish...

I water... I burn... I freeze... I sky... I make... I preserve... I destroy... I...



I am and I am not.... I has never become you... I was there before you... I is the only one that is always already there but before time and space... I am impossible to capture... Not in any word or method whatsoever... I cannot be experienced, all experience appears within me... Everything comes and goes in me the one that never comes or goes...

What comes and goes is like a dream or illusion that appears, so real... so beautiful or terrible as long as it lasts... But real or unreal to whom does the world appear? The whole universe? To me... But who am I?

What is seen as separate from all else, the convulsion of identification with body and mind, that I when sought has never been found. Thoughts about who, what or how I am, a feeling of being a separated I appear objective to me... One is aware of them, where do they come from? where are they now? Keep looking, you are already that which sees them... Wonder who am I? Wonder who is the one wondering... Can this one be found? Does it exist at all?

What you think you are is like seeing a scary man in dim light which turns out to be a scarecrow. Has the man ever really existed? Can the man do anything to recognise his true I? All this time there was only the scarecrow.



Everything is like a refection of your true self, it is like being a mirror, everything can appear in it but the refection shall never know or experience the mirror...


When this becomes clear beyond thoughts this can be paired with bliss, a feeling of happiness, you'll want to keep repeating this, make it permanent, wonderful for a long time but a trap, nothing and I mean absolutely nothing in the appearance can and shall ever become permanent, it appears within you, nice but who are you to whom does it appear? What is the unchanging you that is neverending beyond bliss, beyond being and non-being?

I... before I and you, before everything and nothing, before any idea... Only as That alone one can [as a manner of speaking] say I am That and That is All!...

That pretends it becomes all this, including you, but there is only That having the superimposition that the waking dream is real... Knowing That am I as I is the only end of all misery, all uncertainty...

And then there was an elephant who blew the story away!