Life’s basic building block is consciousness, or at the least, that is as much as this appearance in consciousness at present is able to grok. Consciousness, a word, not unlike every word, can only point to that which is inconceivable since it is as deep or shallow as its perceiver. What we perceive is a mirror of what we understand ourselves and the world to be.
Life as it currently manifests is not simply made of consciousness – the unadulterated ground of being – it is also made of mistaken identities, conflicts designed to protect those identities, beliefs in a materialistic model, ideas of win and lose, and concepts of life and death which are not concepts at all when blindly seen as trustworthy. All components in the field arise in consciousness, are made of consciousness, but to varying degrees, rather than the unconditioned ground of being, they are ever so slightly, or exceedingly, saturated with fear.
Yes, fear. An identity, any identity, is a step away from the truth of who we are: a sensory threshold, the now here portal of experiencing … and even that says too much. To be that raw, that naked, is terrifying. We put on an identity, or have one put on us, before we are capable of understanding that we are layering over the splendor, deadening aliveness, that we are papering over the priceless presence.
As soon as an identity is assumed conflict and comparisons follow and the game is afoot. All components create a hell out of heaven, the two out of that which could never be two, a dog-eat-dog world where survival of the fittest is the fitting mantra, and rightly so, given the world as it appears right now.
In order to see another possibility we cannot look at appearances based in the fallacy of separation, of good and evil, right and wrong: the mirage before our eyes. If we look to the current state everything newly created will be based in the fallacy. Nothing could ever be truly new when born from the seed of separation.
It’s beyond tricky, to live in the world as it is, to allow ourselves to experience life’s pain and suffering, its grief and sorrow, to feel the materialistic pull, the gravity of it all, to experience all that the fallacy has wrought, while not ensnared in its accuracy, its reality, its power. To be – to truly be – in the world but not of it, is a balancing act, a tightrope walk along the razor’s edge … at first. The more comfortable swaying as the uncertainty becomes, the wider the edge appears. The edge is the totality, not a little scrap of real estate, a place in time where you battle the demons of fear. It is only fear that prevents the clear seeing, the recognition that you cannot fall. There is nothing to fall off of or into, and no one who could.
To recognize that life doesn’t have to be tinted with fear – that it doesn’t have to be this way – that it can manifest in harmonious perfection is a visceral, all-in realization, not something you can learn in a book. It is not the ending that most want and fear. It is but a beginning of another journey, a journey into a (w)holy new realm of possibilities.
You can say it out loud – life doesn’t have to be this way – as a reminder, as a catalyst for remembering, and the contents of consciousness begin to shift. Everything you say, do, or think shifts the field of consciousness one way or the other, towards fear or towards love. Whether you hear these words or not, whether you act from them or not, is already resonating in the field of consciousness.
Eventually, when enough experiences come together to make it so, you realize the truth of it, are simply with it, as it, and the world changes without need of a directing hand. Life knows how to manifest. We don’t need to tell it what to do, what we want. We simply open to it, to its beauty, its inherent perfection. To do that, we have to be willing to set the need for suffering down.
It’s funny. Knowing it deeply, cellularly deep, so deep that ideas of cells and body and world dissolve, doesn’t absolve you from having your experience, the full deal, the wonky feelings – both pleasant and unpalatable, the pains in your body, the heartbreak and sorrow, love gained and lost: the whole soiree. It makes life even more precious, ever more stunning.
It’s a paradox for sure. Power surrendered comes back to you in a whole new guise. Fear embraced frees you. Uncertainty embodied unleashes infinite intelligence. Life fully experienced just as it is reveals the infinite invisible.
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.