
When they said, “See people for who they really are,” I thought they meant to see the inner light, the godSelf, the spark that remains even when it’s nearly extinguished, to join with that, to be in union, communion with the truth of them. I didn’t realize true teachers, those who really knew, meant something else. They pointed to a truth that was far beyond me at the time, so I contented myself with the illusion of love and light, of being one with everything — one with humans, trees, the planet, life.
When they said, “You aren’t what you think,” I thought they meant that I am a child of God not man. I didn’t realize their fingers pointed to the moon and beyond, eons past ideas of God and man, of this and that, of king and servant. I was still convinced of this material reality. I couldn’t see past what I thought I knew.
When they said, “Do not fear death,” I thought they meant I was immortal, that I would live forever in one form or another, that forever existed and so would I. I didn’t realize the truth of the matter. It probably would have scared me too much, so I saw what I could, heard it in terms that left me a ledge to stand upon.
When they said, “Don’t worry; be happy,” I thought they were suggesting that it all would work out in the end, that I’d get it and life would be wonderful. I didn’t realize there was nothing, literally nothing, to worry about, that happiness and sadness, joy and sorrow were all precious experiences in this land of experiencing. Had I seen through their ruse I might have lost it right there and found myself looking out of the locked door of the nearest psych ward.
It’s a wonder, and so grand, that the unfolding happens as it does, that we understand what we do, as we do. Were the truth to descend and drop in its entirety on humanities’ heads what chaos would ensue. I can picture it now. It wouldn’t be pretty.
Can you imagine waking out of the dream to realize it’s all a dream, that you can’t die and were never ever born, that you — what you think of as yourself — never were and will never be. There is nothing to be one with, nothing to be unhappy about. Nothing to worry about either.
It’s all a dream in Godmind. All that’s here is Godmind … dreaming all-dimensionally, dreaming Earth and stars, Amaya and Kenny, Scott and Emily, dreaming red and blue … all the other colors too, dreaming dinosaurs and polar bears, bees and mosquitos. Nothing here but God at play, God Godding, Life Life-ing. Nothing but here, no there; nothing but now, no then and even here and now aren’t really real.
I could go further and pull the plug on it all … but there is really no point. Life here as you are, is the point if there is a point.
Nothing matters; everything matters. All that really matters is the love, the love that fuels the creativity, that propels the passion play, that animates the grand show … and truly honestly really … there’s nothing here not to love
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