Assumptions
I look at the stars, thinking there are mysteries about the Universe, yet to be uncovered, some knowledge that will make me stronger. But how much of this isn't an assumption? There is no reason to believe there is anything to know about the Universe, that I do not already know. If knowledge is to vanish with the dead and with rotten books, then is that knowledge necessary? How much more discomfort should there be, believing there is ignorance?
I Am A Prism
Beware of those who claim, implicitly or explicitly, knowledge of the world or of what is beyond the world. They fool others and fool themselves. My word is not enough for it, simple logic will tell that no one can understand IT (the universe, being, the source, whatever one may call it). There is no lasting knowledge, no lasting insight, because what seems to be grasped, when one believes one is enlightened, is the ungraspable. Even this pure state of ever-fresh understanding can fall away, like all other things, and one falls back upon memory, which is as revealing as a corpse. I know myself to have been there, I have been on the high mountains of enlightenment, I kissed the divine and have known myself as pure love, nurturing the source within and without. But all this, however enriching, is elusive.
Awakening is knowing oneself as a blank page. But as a blank page one knows oneself as the recipient of existence, and there is no other path than to give in into its drama. The white page is filling with new stories and the stories seem to hide the page with their meaning. The self is lost again, and it wants to find its true and pure identity again. Those who believe to be the blank page know nothing of the real, those who are lost in meanings know nothing of the true. They don't, I don't, no one does. Do you really think it would be so easy? Come on Benjamin: do you really think you could have been the divine? Its cherished son?
Those who believe so fill the worlds with their noise, all prophets, teachers or masters, all these Benjamins I once was. They and their followers are aberrations, they have no choice, nor have I. Truly I am an unsolvable puzzle, I am life and death entwined. What escape is there from this?
Today as I stand, I am lost, I always was, but today I know I am. Some will think this statement, seemingly pessimist is an indicator that I do not know. Let them think so: let them seek answers that please them, let them find comfort in the belief of a Nirvana of eternal joy.
Today as I stand, I am lost, I find myself on a schizophrenic path of choices without final substance. What choices are there? On what ground and what for? Who choses what is chosen? I could settle here and not play the game of choices. But would not that be a choice too? And why play dead? Yes, I am the suffering of my own existence and yes, I am the remedy. I am ignorance and I am knowledge. I am a prism and through myself I know I am.
Sure?
Looking for special sensation? Looking for a confirmation that the Universe is on your side? Sure you've found it this time? Sure there is no "going back"? Sure you are free of illusions? So you finally got hold of freedom, didn't you?
How much more lies will you tell yourself, how many more opportunities will you waste, running away?
I Finally Got It!
Of course I didn't!
What is there to get? What final insight could there be? Insights, like all other thing ever witnessed, rise and fall. What end is there? Why would I want to come to an end? How boring would that be? So what, it's "game over" after? How arrogant, how naive would this belief be? Should I cling to an insight? Or spin a religion with a no-religion discourse? Write this blog with paternalistic tones? Teach while denying being a teacher (yes nowadays teachers don't teach, they "give pointers")?
Any thought about the Universe is merely a thought of the Universe, it is insignificant, it is powerless in its vainglory.
Bring me your school and i will burn it down, bring me your apprenticeship and i will slap your face.
The glory of Being already prevails, your knowing or seemingly understanding is irrelevant.
There is no insight that isn't confusion, there is no waking that is not dreaming, there is no non-self that is not self.
Insights about the Universeare not as relevantas the Universein which they take place.
That said, the "in the Universe" part could be doubted, perhaps Universe is insight and insight Universe, there is no way to understand.
Memory
Memory plays such a subtle and yet predominant role in my life. In fact it is all what I seem to have in order to speak of myself. And yet, how much can I trust memory? Memory, supposedly is a impression of the past, a snap-shot, which works as a land-mark, a point de repère, in time. Assuming it does what it claims: why do I so much need the past and its memory? If memory works like a thread in the labyrinth of time, there would be no going back anyway. But really how much can I rely on memory? As far as I can tell, it has nothing to do with the past, it is born now and dies now, nothing guarantees it has come from this place called "the past". Is memory not just spontaneous? Isn't it a product of the present rather than the past? Is it not imagination in fact?
Memory, it seems, is merely a story about what cannot be seen, an impression on the world of things marking them with stigmas of what they should have been, or should be. What would this world be without memory? How many wars would cease together with it? How much sorrow, suffering, habits and how much spontaneity, trust and opportunities would rise? What would I be without memory? Unborn, eternal, without memory I would not relate to the other, because in the present moment there are no relationships. Relationships cannot live outside of time, cannot survive without memory, because the other then would always remain a stranger, fresh and new.
Memory in fact is central to the answer to "who am I" a question which lies beneath all of our actions, bred by a continuous flow of memory. Without memory, there would be no "who" at all indeed, because the "who" cannot exist alone, it needs to relate.
No who, no when, no how nor why.
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