Life simply is what it is, is what it is to you, is what it is to me. There is no one answer that will ever suffice, no words that come nigh to spelling it out. And yet, in this mind-boggling mind-bending experiential we call life, we play the ‘let’s define it’ game with words … and feelings … and everything else at our disposal. It must be important because all of life is the playground. Nothing is excluded.
Each idol, each preferred version of what this is and its concomitant set of game rules, is made possible by six basic words. Without them, the game falls apart, because absent the quest you are simply here, now, living spontaneously, aliveness alive at rest and in motion. Without even the need for trust, all that is, is awareness self-expressing.
The six words: Why, How, What, Where, When and Who.
Why holds a lot of juice. We ask it all the time. It’s one of the first words children repeat, over and over. It begs answers, answers to simple and universal questions. It sets forth a mistaken premise that answers can be found. It drives people crazy for a reason: answers, real based-in- truth undisputable answers, can’t be found, but that’s never stopped people from asking why. Why complicates, divides and attempts to conquer. It cannot take you closer to what is than basic acceptance, but it is a whole lot easier and seemingly more fun. Why is mind candy, a lollipop for the thought that thinks it can discern reality, can pen up truth. Why sits inside a fun house maze, filled with twists and turns that can literally consume a lifetime … and it wouldn’t be waste. How could anything be a waste? Impossible!
How is the mechanic’s version of why. How does a hummingbird egg know to become a hummingbird? How do bees know to return to the hive? How does my heart know to break when I feel loss and grief? How do tears know to fall? How is based in cause and effect, in the belief that this world is material, stands on its own. How doesn’t understand the role of consciousness. It dismisses it entirely. It might be more productive to fall in love with life’s precious mystery. There is so much to be in awe of, to enjoy and appreciate, to fall head over heels with, to applaud and cheer.
What will get you every time. What wants a definitive answer, a yes or no, a right or wrong, not simultaneous paradoxes of both or and. What is This? What am I? It seems to matter, but does it really? Anything known is limited by the knowing, and you dear heart, are in search of something beyond the known. Relax and be the unknown enigma, the unresolved riddle … unless what is an irresistible siren’s call. It comes. It goes. What 😉 is it that notices?
Where and When are not so let’s lump them together. Here and now is all there is. Experience testifies to the fact even though most minds haven’t quite caught up. You can’t find a there or its nesting place, the past or future, even though you sometimes live there … but only ever in your mind. Make-believe cannot satisfy the craving within. Look to your experience and see if that’s true. It always leaves you wanting more, something real not pretend, and that’s superb! A desire for more eventually opens into the awareness of all that is, of the impossibility of lack, of the sheer madness that who you are could ever be improved upon.
Who am I? Who are you? Ah … the Who word. Assumption warning! Do you know for certain there is a you who is? Some live a lifetime without asking that question, really asking it, looking beyond job descriptions, roles or personal identity. Find the answer to this one and all the other questions self-destruct.
We use these six words all the time. Why am I poor? Why am I alone? Why am I here? How can I find my way home? How do I annihilate my mind? What is life? What’s going on? Where am I going? Where have I been? When will I accept myself? When will I finally awaken and be okay? Who am I? Who are you? They don’t add the teensiest bit to who you already are … and yet, each and every one is beautifully perfect, perfectly precious, absolutely grand! They are breadcrumbs in the deep forest that you leave for yourself. They are the divinely ordinary path you are travelling, each in your own uniquely faultless way, as you make your way through the bog of separation, the looping dance of forgetting and remembering.
There is no appropriate bio for Amaya Gayle. She doesn’t exist other than as an expression of Consciousness Itself. Talking about her in biographical terms is a disservice to the truth and to anyone who might be led to believe in such nonsense. None of us exist, not in the way we think. Ideas spring into words. Words flow onto paper and yet no one writes them. They simply appear fully formed. Looking at her you would swear this is a lie. She’s there after all, but honestly, she’s not. Bios normally wax on about accomplishments and beliefs, happenings in time and space. She has never accomplished anything, has no beliefs and like you was never born and will never die. Engage with Amaya at your own risk. www.amayagayle.com