To have seen through the ruse leaves one in the fascinating position of not being easily understood. Most everything said or written to one extent or another is believed to be one way or the other and not at all as it is experienced here. Seems that’s the nature of expression. It is a good thing that the one who cared is no longer in charge because being misunderstood always felt like pouring acid in an open wound.
What’s funny now is whether I am understood or not, the writing continues, the story rolls on, the characters react and respond, and there is no one here to mind the display of duality. The avatar interacts without thoughts of right or wrong, slaps or kudos. Enjoyment is present. Puzzlement is here. Curiosity is in charge — how can I better explain this? Is there a way to say this better, to let the essence of what I am trying to express shine more clearly?
That is all that matters, and even that doesn’t really matter even though the human life, what appears to be mine in this case, and the ones appearing to interact, matters absolutely.
How can I express this? There really is no way … and yet, expression flows through these veins. It seems to be the way of play here.
Our humanity is vital to the dance. It is through our humanity that we discover the actuality. Without the human form, the human heart, the human mind, we would be unable to experience life, the infinite aliveness, the exquisite shapes and forms life takes. It is the resident temple, a portal of sorts, of experiencing.
Feeling your experience, having it and letting it have you, allowing your life to be as it is, resistance included, doesn’t simply ease your pains and sorrows, it makes it possible to see through the ruse that is not an intentional deception, but merely the nature of This alive.
There is no crime and punishment. There are simply different experiences, not levels or lows and highs, densities of vibration, but simply the many incredible ways This experiences Itself.
Seeing through the subterfuge, you realize that the entire thing is the expression, and the one you call you is part of that expression, no different than a tree or me. It is the seamless sameness moved and moving, shifting and changing, evolving with each experience. It is a phenomenal unbound symphony, music without instruments, without conductor. The notes play themselves, only appearing to be played, instruments only seeming to be in the hands of musicians.
Once seen it cannot be unseen and the seeing slowly works its way into the cracks and crevices of mind, body and soul, undoing the remaining attachment to ideas, senses of separation, of mortality, age, illness, the struggle.
You realize that you do not age, have never aged. The avatar ages, goes through the stages of life, but as much as the experience of humanness is precious, you are that and so much more.
Our humanity is our portal for experiencing a singular life, and it will come and go, appear to die, but it is not what you are. It is the reason that even though the age on your driver’s license is climbing, you do not feel old. You aren’t. This is one of life’s breadcrumbs and it is a big one when explored.
What you are is not a what, is not a who, is not describable, at least I have not yet found words to adequately describe it, the it that is not an it.
So no wonder I am misunderstood. Of course, I am. How could I not be? How could anyone truly be understood? Maybe that’s part of the fun, the challenge, a reason for playing the game … but then again, maybe there is no reason and there is simply life-lifeing, the infinite invisible becoming visible only to return to invisibility again.
This wants to be discovered. Everything that happens is Its invitation to see clearly, Its reminder that you are so much more.
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. That said with a giggle, check out Amaya’s new book – Actuality: infinity at play, available in paperback and e-book at Amazon.
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1 Comment
I think you’d get a lot more reads if you included the main subject of your posts in the first two sentences. This results in the blurb on the main page having enough context for people to know if they should click on the post/article. I find many authors on this site wax poetic/philosophical in the first paragraph. If I can’t tell what the post/article is from the blurb, I usually skip it and move on.