By Amaya Gayle Gregory —
Sedona, AZ –Years back, it must have been shortly after Ken died, I was meditating and had an epiphany. It was like Kenny stopped by to tap me on the shoulder, give me a smile, and let me know how truly laughable I was. I felt him winking at me and got the gist of his message energetically. You are so cute, and oh so very silly.
What was I being silly about? It didn’t seem silly to me at the time. It seemed like common sense. I was meditating, attempting to gain a bit of insight into which foods were problematic for me. At the time I was having a lot of sinus issues, so I was trying to understand my body’s reaction. Honestly, I can’t remember which food I was blaming at the time. I put a lot of foods on my blacklist back then.
I do remember his voice saying, ‘You don’t really think what you eat has anything to do with how your body reacts, what you weigh, or for that matter, with anything at all, do you?’
I was sitting in the round blue chair, the one I bought for mom when she moved into her new place. When she died, I reclaimed it. Sitting in it was like getting a big hug from her. What happened next didn’t feel warm and fuzzy like a hug. It was like someone smacked me over the head and knocked me into a different universe.
IT’S ALL ILLUSION. No, really. It’s all illusion … yes it feels, tastes, smells, sounds, and looks just like it’s real, but it’s not, at least not real like we think real is.
Instantly, I knew he was right. There was no question left in my mind, at least not right then. It didn’t take long to get a mild case of amnesia, but in that moment, I simply knew that this is all illusion and illusion cannot harm me. It can’t unless I cooperate with it, unless I put my faith in the illusion, unless I believe the illusion and make it real.
Fast forward …
I’ve spent the last 13 years watching as the stratified beliefs in the illusion fall apart. The beliefs in the reality of this world, of myself and everyone in it, are pernicious tenacious beliefs. Beliefs, all beliefs, are self-proving, self-replicating. They give us what we believe and in doing so, prove themselves to be true. Talk about circular logic. In laymen’s terms, beliefs in the material reality of life are stubborn as hell.
You can’t unbelieve what you believe. No matter how many affirmations you say, how many times you try to alter your thoughts, you believe what you believe … and most of your beliefs are sub or unconscious so you don’t even know they are there.
Seeing the beliefs takes life’s wonder, the flow of experiences, running headfirst into the brick wall over and over again. First you notice the beliefs, and then bit by bit they are unseated.
Even though I know mentally, feel it emotionally, and have slipped through the veil of reality more than a time or two, this one belief seems to have staying power. It has layers upon layers to back itself up. It isn’t a one and done and I’m home free sort of belief. This one empties itself out as slowly as a new bottle of ketchup hovering over a plate of fries … wait for it … wait for it … wait for it … plop! One layer down, who knows how many more to go, but with each plop there is a lightening of the load, a freeing up of space, a stronger sense of the beauty and illusory nature of all senses.
It’s a challenge to say the least, to disbelieve one’s senses. I’ve often wondered what life would be like if I was blinded, lost my hearing, was unable to taste or smell, and missing the sense of touch. The first time that thought arose it sent chills through my body. The idea was almost too much to contemplate.
Awareness would still be present, but I wouldn’t be aware of anything. Would I be in inescapable meditation — the weightless spaceless timeless kind, not the one filled with endless chatter, since there’d be nothing to chatter about. What I would I be? Would there be a constant state of presence without anything to be present to? Would it be like death?
If I didn’t know what or that I was being fed, would there be ideas of food allergies? Would the body’s weight fluctuate if I didn’t have labels for what I was eating? Would doctors think I was brain dead and pull the plug?
How much of the collective’s belief system would carry over into my basic, simple experience? We are not separate; my beliefs are not mine alone, nor are yours. Is it possible to be totally disassociated from beliefs, and completely free of their outcomes?
Mystics of most religions have lived free of the rules of the land, the rules of their societies. They have conjured miracles, or what the uninitiated call the miraculous. What is a miracle but functioning as infinite aliveness, residing (for a moment or more) beyond belief?
It’s our experience and interpretation of the display, the experience of the senses, the programmed responses, that makes life what it is, that lends the structure we live by, that creates the drama and comedy of life … and that’s a bit different for everyone. There is no one reality, but billions of realities.
I wonder how deep this rabbit hole goes, how completely my story can unravel before it dissolves. It feels like there is an edge here, an edge that has no separation from the story, but where the story ceases to have any meaning at all. Oh … this is fun! Playtime!
Want to read more from Amaya? Her new book, Actuality: infinity at play, explores what actually is and the reasons we look right past the staggering reality. At Amazon in paperback and e-book. https://amzn.to/3Rd4CTY