You see change coming — a sea change — transcendence, a new earth, a better place to raise your family, a you who fits sweetly into the picture.
What if there is no pending apocalypse, no rapture escape route, no heaven to find, no hell to escape, no afterlife at all?
Maybe, humanity isn’t ascending to a higher state, and the idea that all this pain is worth it because of where it is taking us is just another story.
What if thinking you’re on top of it, the genius at the front of the wave, that you have always been ahead of the curve on an inside track, is just another part of the story too?
What if all of those stories are the game board — the game of Life — fun to play, simple rolls of the dice, rule-following movements that are firmly planted within the box?
What if you’re not uniquely tuned in? What if you’re just another game piece making the rounds?
Would that be a problem?
Not that long ago, it would have been a big problem for me. Getting out of here was the carrot on the sacred stick.
Really … what about it?
What if all the cushion time, the painstaking research into teachers-ideas-solutions-truth-ad nauseam., the articles you’ve perused, the books that line your shelves, all that energy you put into finetuning your life, keeping it pointed in the right direction, isn’t going anywhere, is in fact, part of the story, the dream, the illusion.
Wouldn’t that suck? Actually … not at all.
Does a hamster think it’s getting somewhere peddling on the wheel?
Are you building wealth when you place your little houses and hotels on the gameboard? Are you winning something? Are you losing anything when you have to stop and go to jail?
Does a character in a movie care if they get shot and die?
Somewhere along the way — a step in the game — not a grand step, not even the highest, best or most wonderful step — just a step — the game is seen for what it is. To the game piece it feels grand and wonderful, but then living — all of this being in form stuff — feels grand and wonderful. Life simply is and in that isness is freedom from the tragedy of life not being what you want, freedom to be as you are, the freedom of simply being.
It’s a step — one simple step that no one earns, that no one can figure out, that no one takes, along the path of humanbeing — godmanifesting — lifelife-ing.
What if all that work wasn’t for nothing? What if it had but one impetus — to make it possible for you to be fully here now, to feel all of life, to experience the full spectrum of intensity and bliss, sorrow and heartbreak? What if that is the true gift of a life?
There is no afterlife; it’s all life. We aren’t going anywhere; there’s only here. There is no time to do anything; it’s always now. This Thising … Life unfolding … the shimmering movement of Consciousness … holographic echos bouncing … emptiness whirling playing dancing creating recycling beginning again.
How cool is That.
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. It’s actually much better than we can imagine. 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 … and she is. Love a paradox and life is nothing, if not paradoxical. 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.
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