Playful beingness

Playful beingness is like the pure, spontaneous expression of life, unfiltered and free, without the weight of a separate self. It’s the effortless dance of existence, where there’s no one doing the dancing, just the movement itself.

It’s the uncontained laughter, the tongue-out-at-the-sun energy, the innocent, boundless curiosity that flows without purpose or direction. It’s the way a child runs through a field without a reason, the way the wind moves through the trees without a plan, or the way a wave crashes against the shore without hesitation. It’s life itself, living, without a center, without a goal.

Playful beingness is the pure, unguarded aliveness that isn’t trying to be anything, not even “enlightened” or “spiritual”. It’s the raw, direct, chaotic and beautiful unfolding of life, without a filter, without a story.

It’s the way your heart skips when you hear your favorite song in the middle of a crowded street, the way you dance like a fool in your kitchen while the eggs are boiling over. It’s the sudden urge to splash through puddles, to sing in the shower, to do silly faces in the bathroom mirror. It’s the unplanned hug that lasts a little too long, the breathless laughter over a dumb joke, the way you sometimes talk to the cat as if it understands every word.

Playful being isn’t a state to be reached or a mindset to be cultivated. It’s the natural, effortless expression of life, moving without resistance, without the burden of a story to uphold or a role to play. It doesn’t care if it looks clumsy or chaotic, if it spills its coffee or trips over its own feet. It’s the messy, unpredictable, beautiful chaos of life, unashamed and uncontained.

Playful being has no past to regret, no future to prepare for and no present to grasp. It is the freedom of not knowing, the lightness of not caring, the simplicity of just being. It’s the part of you that never grew up, never learned to wear a mask, never traded wonder for certainty.

It’s the pulse of life itself, undivided, unclaimed and uncontainable. It’s the full-bodied, reckless embrace of the unknown, the fearless leap into what’s already happening, without hesitation, without expectation, without holding back.

It’s the whisper of the wind, the crash of the waves, the silent unfolding of a morning mist. It’s the endless, boundaryless dance of what is, forever spinning, never arriving, never leaving.

Love so intimate

Just this Love

Love so intimate,

it has no distance, no separation, no one to hold, no one to own.

It’s the end of all relationships, the collapse of every boundary, the falling away of every illusion of control.

It’s like you’ve held your breath for too long and then finally exhale- collapsing into the vastness, melting into boundlessness, letting go without effort, because it’s seen that the one who would hold on was never there.

It’s the heartbreak of realizing you never owned anyone, not even your closest ones, not even yourself. It’s the quiet, devastating clarity that no one was ever born, no one will ever die, no one ever held or lost anything. It’s the end of ownership, the end of holding, the end of trying to grasp what can never be grasped.

It’s the raw, piercing beauty of being stripped bare, naked, exposed to the boundless, wild dance of life- untamed, uncaptured, and unbound. It’s the shattering of the illusion that anything can be possessed, that anyone can be held, that love is something that happens between two.

When the prison of the mind dissolves, it dawns- all that was believed to be yours- your relationships, your successes, your failures, even your most cherished dreams- falls away. There is no one left to hold, no one to cling to, no one to own.

And in that emptiness, in that boundless aliveness, it’s clear- no one was ever here. Nothing was ever possessed and nothing can ever be lost. Just the raw, naked, wild dance of life, falling back into itself, over and over, without a center, without a name.

It’s like falling back into the arms of love, which you never left, not as someone, but as the boundless, formless freedom that was always here, whispering in every breath, moving in every wave, alive in every heartbeat.

This is the freedom that costs everything you thought you had, and leaves you with nothing- what remains is what never left, what was never apart.

Just this, without a name, without a center.

Just this, love.

Medicine for a dream, that wasn't real

I’ve never followed a guru, teacher, or preacher and I’d say: „good for me“. I see how hard it seemingly is for those who’ve been deep in the spiritual game, investing years of energy and belief, hoping someone would one day lead them to liberation. But that promise never really delivers. Most spiritual teachers only feed the dream of separation, but not intentionally and not done by anyone. It’s just a description of what seems to be happening, neither wrong nor right, neither good nor bad.

And then there are few folks, like Alan Watts and UG, who spoke with and through the dream, without buying into it. Even when it came dressed as teaching, their clarity cuts through. I don’t even see it as teaching anymore. It feels more like description. A pointing to the play of what seems to be happening, without anyone directing or watching it. An echo of the illusion, with no one asleep. I’d hang out with those two for sure, have a beer or two.

Some claim that UG was a guru, but there is no guru, no holy man. And some say Alan Watts was a teacher. I’d say: there is no teacher. Teaching may happen. Preaching may happen. Lectures, jokes, wisdom, even silence can all arise. But there is no one doing so. Alan himself once said he was more an entertainer than a teacher and that resonates. What he offered was not a lifestyle or a philosophy to follow, but more like a medicine. He said, “What I’m talking about is more like a medicine than a diet. And you don’t want to get hooked on a medicine. It has a specific job to do, and then send you away. And of course if you want to come back for kicks, that’s a free country.” And there is no choice anyway.

That hits home. Because you can get hooked on spirituality. It’s a rabbit hole- one more practice, one more ritual, one more fast, one more mantra. Always the promise of something more, something deeper, something better. You’re not quite there yet. You need to go further. You haven’t done enough. There are still boxes to tick. Still things to purify, energies to raise, shadows to integrate. And maybe, just maybe, then you’ll finally arrive.

But how exhausting it is, to be a “me.” To carry the burden of being someone, a separate identity striving to become something else. It takes so much energy to uphold the illusion. And yet, to simply be, without anyone left to be, is effortless.

The apparent search continues as long as it’s fueled. Fueled by the promise of more. But here, no prescriptions are given. No steps, no methods. Here, the seeking energy isn’t fed. Therefore I sit in an empty Zoom, in my empty room, with empty hands, no one to talk to, no one wanting to hear that this nothingness was all that was ever longed for. Seeking wants something, not nothing. Seeking doesn’t stop by getting, it stops when the illusion of the seeker no longer needs fuel. When enough is enough. When it dawns that there was never anything separate, nothing to reach, nothing to become. No more, no less than what already is, whole and complete.

And no practice or teaching can lead to that. Because this isn’t a realization someone can have. The apparent realization is that there is no one to realize anything. No one to get free. This is already freedom from me.

It’s a loop that always feeds itself, the promise is always just out of reach: liberation, enlightenment, a happy ending for the me. And so it keeps going. The list grows longer: meditation, detox, raw veganism, breatharianism, shadow work, cold plunges, sacred sexuality, divine feminine, divine masculine, sacred union, devotional service. All of it, beautiful, creative, rich in flavor. But still more dream content. Still more ways to entertain the illusion of becoming.

There’s nothing wrong with any of it. It’s all part of what happens. But none of it leads to what’s truly longed for. Because what’s longed for isn’t found there. Not in the next ceremony, not in the next polarity workshop, not in the next diet or divine upgrade. The mind insists this can’t be it- this ordinary moment, this plain simplicity. It must be somewhere else, more radiant, more profound, more earned. But that belief, “this isn’t it”, is the engine of the search. And that engine is constantly fueled by a spiritual industry built on the idea that you’re not quite there yet.

So it apparently stays hidden. Hidden in plain sight. Overlooked by eyes always looking for somewhere else. Passed over by minds programmed to seek the next step, the next hit, the next method. But what’s being pointed to here has no next. It’s not special. It’s not hidden. It’s just this. Always this. Already.

This ties directly back to that exhausting burden of being someone, of trying to get somewhere. The doing never ends because the seeker is still believed to be real. But when that illusion is no longer fed, when the engine of seeking finally sputters out, it becomes clear: there was never anywhere to go and no one to get there.

And that’s the core of it. The seeker can’t find what it seeks, because what it seeks is the end of the seeker. The me can never arrive at enough, because if this were enough, it would be the end of me. And no me wants that. The seeking is the me. That’s what keeps the illusion alive.

No-self is the medicine. But it’s not something you can take daily like a supplement. It’s not a new habit or belief system. It’s not a lifestyle or path. It’s the collapse of the very one who would take the path. It’s not a diet, it’s the end of the dieter. It doesn’t ask for your devotion, your repetition, your years of service. It asks for nothing. Because there’s no one here to give anything. Empty hands, remember?

Even when it’s seen that there is no separate self, life doesn’t stop. Thinking doesn’t stop. Breathing doesn’t stop. The body doesn’t lay in bed doing nothing after the collapse of the illusion. Life continues, as it always did, only now it’s seen that there’s no one doing it. Just aliveness, effortlessly unfolding. Speaking may happen. Writing may happen. Silence may happen. Not because anyone chose it, but because that’s what’s appearing. Nothing more, nothing less.

Saying “there is no one” ends the conversation pretty quickly. There’s no argument to be had. No debate to win. Some might fall into silence. Some might become social. One might write poems or speak about non-self. Another might plant tomatoes or tell bad jokes. There’s no choice in that either. Just what happens- whole and complete in itself.

And here, like Alan and UG, there’s no interest in gathering disciples. No pedestals. No hierarchy. If you’re looking for a guru or a master or someone to save you, you’ve got the wrong address. There are plenty of other places for that, places with promises, steps, rewards, and holy business. This is not one of them. Here, there’s nothing to get. No one to become. No arrival waiting.

It’s the end of the one who wants something. The end of the better version of me. The end of the purified, perfected self. Apparently. But not because something ends, because it was never truly happening. The “me” was never real to begin with. It didn’t begin, so it doesn’t end. Liberation isn’t the end of me; it’s simply the absence of anyone who could be separate. Not a seer discovering something, but the collapse of the illusion that there was ever anyone to see or to find. Nothing was ever apart. And that, somehow, feels liberating, not for someone, but as the absence of someone. Not something gained, not a state achieved, but the quiet falling away of what was never really there. No one remained. Just this, unowned and unheld. And this… this is as far as words can go.

So maybe that’s why there seems to be this speaking, writing, laughing. Not by anyone, not for anyone. Just life, appearing as this expression. Not to teach or guide, but simply to echo that nothing was ever separate and nothing needs to be attained. If anything is offered here, it’s more like a form of entertainment, a rhythm to dance to, if it resonates. Something to read for the joy of it, like music that reminds you this apparent separation is already part of wholeness. That freedom isn’t elsewhere. That this is unconditional love, unconditional freedom, home. Simple reflection of that, through the art of writing- though even that happens by itself, written by no one.

Thinker and thoughts are not two

Most people live with the sense that thoughts are happening to them. That there’s a “me” thinking, feeling, choosing. But what if there’s no one behind the curtain? No self behind the eyes. No thinker inside the skull.

What if everything you believe yourself to be- the voice in the head, the tightness in the chest, the reactions in the gut- is just a pattern looping through what we call the body, the mind, the nervous system?

Not your thoughts.
Not your feelings.
Just the echo of the world-
conditioning, memory, imitation, programming,
playing out in what’s called “you”.

There’s no real center behind them.
Just patterns looping through a nervous system,
mistaken for identity.

These voices in the head,
these reactions in the gut,
they don’t belong to anyone.
They never did.

When the illusion of separation dies-
not mentally,
not as an idea,
but viscerally,
completely-
there’s no awakening.
Only the end of the one who would awaken.

No one left to be enlightened.
No one left to own thoughts.
No one left to claim peace.
No one left to be free.

Only what’s always been here.
Silently obvious.
Already whole.
Already free.

No space between.
Thinker and thoughts
were never two.

No one doing joy

Child isn’t “trying” to be free,
it’s not a performance.
There’s no one doing joy.
No one trying to be present.
No story of past or future.
Just uncontained life,
swinging wildly,
laughing into the void.

And so are you.
Though there is no you.
Just the play of life
playing as you,
as me,
and nothing between.

True freedom leaves no one behind


‘No me’ isn’t a new identity or refined belief.
It’s not a state, not a practice, not a perspective.
It’s the end of the one who would claim or maintain any of it.
The absence of the identifier, the end of the one who names, claims and becomes.
Not a new self. Not even a better story.
The ego can play dead, but the play is still happening to someone.
True freedom leaves no one behind.
Just this.
Play, without a center.

Belief and Identity

The mind constantly weaves intricate layers of reasoning, attempting to define, categorize and analyze the nature of belief, identity, and selfing. But no matter how deeply thought explores these concepts, it never arrives anywhere beyond more thought.

The argument about belief versus opinion is just another intellectual distinction- ultimately, neither are real in any absolute sense. They are just mental movements, labels placed on transient thoughts. Whether you call it “belief,” “opinion,” or “knowledge,” it’s all part of the same self-referential loop of mind trying to grasp reality.

Discussions about identification and selfing often frame them as processes- something that can be observed, understood and ultimately transcended. This perspective suggests a structure, a path, a way to “get there.” But in assuming that “seeing the process” will lead to something, it subtly reinforces the illusion of a seeker, the idea that there is somewhere to go.

Similarly, the notion that mindfulness or meditation can reduce identification plays into the belief that there is a “you” who can do something about the self. But the self isn’t something to be removed- it was never there to begin with. Even meditation, when approached as a method for dissolving self, is just another story being played out.

And then, the final illusion- the sense that we all step into the unknown with each moment. But who is stepping? There is no traveler, no “one” moving through time. The very premise is part of the illusion- the sense of continuity, of experience unfolding for someone.

So while intellectual exploration may generate interesting conceptual insights, it ultimately stays within the thought-loop- redefining the illusion rather than seeing that there was never an illusion to begin with. No belief is needed, no path to walk, no process to observe.

Just this. Already. Without needing to know.

The Uselessness of This Message

This message is completely useless for the individual. It offers nothing, promises nothing and gives no method, no steps, no progress, no reward. There is no awakening to be had, no better version of you waiting on the other side, no higher state of being. Nothing to reach. Nothing to attain.

The me, the apparent seeker, operates through purpose, through meaning, through trying to improve itself. It wants to use everything for its own imagined journey- whether it’s spirituality, self-improvement, healing, or so-called awakening. The mind asks:
“How do I use this?”
“What can I do with it?”
“How will this help me?”

But this message isn’t for the me. In fact, it’s not for anyone at all.

No One Needs to Hear This

There is no separate self that needs to hear this message. The illusion of “me” searching for freedom is already wholeness appearing as that. There is nothing wrong with the experience of seeking. It’s not a mistake. It’s not a problem to be fixed. It’s just what’s happening.

And yet, the me imagines this message will offer something. It hopes for some ultimate answer that will finally dissolve its suffering, bring peace, or give it some final realization. But it won’t. It can’t.

The Me Can’t Get This

This message cannot be grasped or understood because it’s not a concept, not a belief, not a system. It’s not something the mind can wrap itself around. The me functions by collecting knowledge, by accumulating understanding. It believes that if it just gets it, then liberation will happen. But this is already it, regardless of whether it’s understood or not.

The moment the me hears “there’s nothing to get,” it tries to get that. It tries to understand “nothing to get” as something to hold onto. But this isn’t about understanding. There is no “getting” this. The me can only chase its own tail in endless loops of seeking- until seeking no longer happens. And even that is not in anyone’s control.

The Me Can’t Use This

Spiritual teachings, self-improvement, psychology- they all offer something to do. They give techniques, practices, something to apply, something to change. But this message gives nothing.

No steps.
No progress.
No tools.

The me cannot use this for its own benefit because this message doesn’t acknowledge the me as real in the first place. It doesn’t satisfy to its hopes, its dreams, its need for self-betterment.

That’s why this message is completely useless.

Useless for improving “me.”
Useless for making “life better.”
Useless for fixing suffering.

And yet, this is it. Already.

The Ultimate Joke

The final joke is this:

The me seeks liberation, believing it will find ultimate relief, freedom, or enlightenment. But the only liberation is the end of the one seeking it. The me doesn’t want that- it wants freedom for itself. But liberation is not for anyone.

And even the search- completely useless, completely futile- is already wholeness appearing as that.

So what’s the point?

There is none.

And that’s exactly why this is absolute freedom.

Separation: The Dream of Something Missing

The illusion of the path is the dream of the walker.

„Me“ always hears ‘this’ as a knowing and wants to know it too- that separation is an illusion. But that is just another attempt to sustain itself within the illusion of separation. The dream trying to keep itself alive. It’s simply what’s appearing, seemingly.

 

The paradox collapses into nothing, because the ‘me’ trying to know that it doesn’t exist is just another movement within the illusion of separation.

The me always turns what it hears into something to get, another piece of knowledge to add to its collection, another foothold to stand on. It hears “separation is an illusion” and immediately wants to know that as a fact, to possess it, to confirm it. But that very movement- this grasping for certainty- is just the me trying to survive, trying to sustain its own illusion.

Yet, the moment it tries to land on something solid, the ground disappears:
There is no reality apart from the concept of it.
The mind says “this is reality,” but without that concept, where is it? Reality isn’t something separate, something standing apart, waiting to be seen or understood- it only exists as an idea.

There is no knower apart from the thought of one.
The me believes itself to be the one who knows or doesn’t know. But without the thought “I know” or “I don’t know,” where is the knower? It’s just another label stuck onto what is, trying to create a center where there is none.

There is no truth apart from the claim of it.
Truth is only ever a statement, a declaration that something is or isn’t. But without those words, without the mind asserting “this is true,” where is truth? It’s just another mirage appearing within the dream.

So the whole paradox dissolves- not because something is figured out, but because there was never anything to figure out. No knower, no known, no deeper truth behind the appearance. Just this, raw, unfiltered, without meaning, without needing to be grasped.

And even this- just words appearing, dissolving, already gone. 

The greatest paradox is… there is none.
Paradox always collapses into nothing. To the apparent individual, this may sound paradoxical, but in reality- there is no paradox at all. The me takes whatever it hears and turns it into something, even trying to make nothing into something,because the me thrives on duality- opposites, contrasts, concepts to balance. It grasps at emptiness, trying to hold onto the idea of no-separation, of nothing being everything. But even that is just another appearance in the dance. But when there is no one left to perceive paradox, it simply collapses into nothing. So all there is, is nothing- nothing appearing as everything. And in that, no separate things exist, no division, no opposites. No things. No separation. Just this- whole, boundless, a perfect, weightless symphony of what is. Just this, without needing to be resolved.

Nothing stands apart. Nothing to name, nothing to hold, nothing to figure out. Just this, effortless, untamed, unknowable- already free. 

The me cannot function without opposites- it needs this and that, right and wrong, here and there. It hears “this is it” and immediately imagines an alternative- “but what about this suffering, this separation, this experience?” The mind splits reality in two, creating an imagined not-it where none exists. It cannot grasp boundlessness, so it carves out opposites- dividing what is whole into this and that, right and wrong, true and false. It turns this is it into a concept and immediately imagines an alternative- then there must also be something that isn’t it.

But there is no opposite to this. This isn’t it is also it.

There is no second thing, no hidden reality standing apart, waiting to be found. Even the sense of this isn’t it- the feeling of resistance, separation, suffering- is this too. There is nothing outside of it.

Just as there is no opposite to perfectness, there is no opposite to what is. Perfectness isn’t something measured against imperfection. It isn’t an ideal state where only peace, love, and stillness remain. It is everything, as it is- freely, unconditionally, uncompromisingly.

War, death, suffering, pain- there is no separate place where those things shouldn’t be. There is no separate standard by which they could be judged outside of what is. Even the most brutal, raw and chaotic appearances are uncompromisingly this.

War is it.
Death is it.
Suffering, confusion and fear- are completely, fully, already it.

Nothing stands apart. Nothing needs to be different. Nothing is waiting to become more complete.

This is it.
There is no escape from this, because there was never another place to escape to. No higher reality, no deeper truth, no better version of what is happening. This is all there is, effortlessly appearing as everything.

And even the mind’s protest, even the thought this isn’t it- is nothing but this, playing as the illusion of something missing. Thought “this isn’t it” is just another ripple in the same ocean. 

“This” seemingly playing as the illusion of something missing.

The play of life- Maya, Lila- appearing as separation, as seeking, as the feeling of something missing. But nothing was ever missing, because there was never anything separate to lose or find.

There is no escape from this, because there is no one outside of this, nor inside. No separate self standing apart, looking in, searching for a way out. As there was never someone trapped in the first place. The mesearches for liberation as if it’s locked inside something, but the seeker itself is the illusion.

The one who wants to escape is just another appearance within the dream, another movement of this, pretending it isn’t whole.

Even longing, even seeking, even the desperate search for freedom- is just the play of this, unfolding as it does.

The illusion isn’t just that there’s no way out- it’s that:

-There was never a cage.
-There was never a prisoner.
-There was never a way out, because there was never a way in.

The dream of separation is this, appearing as the longing to escape. The me is just this, seemingly playing as the illusion of something missing. But nothing is missing, nothing was ever lost.

Nowhere to go.
No one to leave.
Nothing missing.
Just this- uncontained, already whole, already free.

Truth

 

What’s truth? Look deeper and you might find that there is no such thing. 

Truth is just another story to believed to be true.

The end of story 🙂


Truth

It’s easy to believe the things you have been told, read and taught to be true, it’s a default program in most of the bodies.
It’s called programming.
One day you might find that it’s just program all the way, running by itself, like AI in flesh and bones.
Expression of that whatever this body-mind apparatus have been feed with.
This apparatus can get smarter, can have upgrades, downgrades, but it itself can’t never wake up to the truth about what it is really, computer.
Computer without independent driver.
It might be programmed to believe that there is a soul, self, God, reincarnation, continuity.
It believes the stories that fit to itself the best, like the last piece in a puzzle.
Stories it wants to believe to be true, stories that can give comfort and hope and protection.
Sometimes there can be a glitch in this body-mind system and it might start asking, who am I.
It can lead to deconstruction of all beliefs systems, deprogramming.
It can be fatal, to that body-mind system called self.
Who believed to be separate, that he is running the show. That he is choosing and doing and controlling. That he is in charge.
When in fact it’s just programming playing out. Empty apparatus. Empty body.
Programmed puppet feed with information, playing out in this grand delusional scheme … called my life.

Life is a play and you are the puppet, puppet of life, not separate from it.
Life acts out through you, it sings, dances, cries, screams and lives through this body you call mine/me.
It plays out as there is someone, sovereign separate identity, with free will and choice.
As what fun in this play there will be, if there’s just this, wholeness, singularity.
That can’t play with itself, for that there have to be this illusion of duality.
And in this play there are no rules, no certainty.
There’s no fixed reality.
It is everything and it is unfathomable as it is everything, without space between.
No omniscient, no knower no truth to be known.
To know truth there must be separation and someone who knows, someone who is separate from everything.
Who else could that be if not almighty and omnipresent God.
And another belief, a story was born, that perpetuates this game of duality.
So when this play of life turns out to be hopeless, there’s always God to hope for.
Because without hope there’s no meaning to be, no continuity.
And yet, that’s what it is already.
Game over seemingly.

Feel free to feel free

Feel love live
Like a child
Who doesn’t know
How to live
How to feel
How to love
How to be
She does it naturally
She learns these labels on the go
Before mouth can say these words
She doesn’t need to say
“I love you”
It’s obvious
That she is love
She is not separate from it
She doesn’t have it
And she doesn’t need to prove it
Or confirm it
She doesn’t know how to feel
There’s just feelings
Expressed by cry or giggles
Impersonal feelings
So innocent and free
No one have these
Does the baby know how to live?
No, it happens naturally
All conditions and knowings come along
When person is born
It’s the end of unity, apparently
This cleavage painfully separates this
Which is whole and complete already
But that’s just a magic trick of the mind
It’s not really there
Although conditions and knowings may never leave
The one, who thought that he had these, may cease
Leaving nothing to have, to hold on to
Than just giggles of childlike wonder
Of what this is
In natural state of unknowingness
Child is born again
Flawless
Innocent
Unconditional
As she always have been
Unconditional love
And free
Feel free to feel free
Unconditionally

Unconditionally this

Waking up from apparent dream/illusion can be like sobering up and there can be clear seeing as confusion. There can be everything. All is this. Nothing wrong with anything. Or right. Apparent dropping away or falling away can be very gradual, mind and body functioning still the same way, but noticing may happen about different aspects of life that have changed apparently.

In weekly Patreon zoom meetings we talk all about this, what is and what ever is coming up. It’s open space where everything is allowed so to speak, where nothing isn’t wrong as nothing isn’t right also.

When dream ends, no one will wake up (is something that Jim Newman said). Then there will be no questions as questioner died apparently. But until “then” Patreon group is a space where you can share upcoming thoughts, questions, worries, fears, joy and so on.

Illusion or not. It’s unconditionally this. 

This

"Let it go" ... but ... I don't know how...

I don’t know how to let go

I don’t know how to surrender

I don’t know how to accept

I even don’t know how to reject

I can only claim that I have done it,

when it’s done already

and not by me

Me is no more or less than just a storyteller

And there is no separate story and the teller

They are on and the same

 

 

Can you see how much suffering can bring one suggestion like “let it go” or something like that. As there is someone, separate, in control, who can actively do something, to let go, when there is already no one holding on, but just holding on is whats apparently is happening, by no one. So no one can let go. Letting go may happen apparently. It happens or it doesn’t, there is no choice in that, it happens absolutely effortlessly. Only when there is the sense of I am, separateness, then it feels like I am in control, I need to change that, and if I can’t, then I fail, I feel bad, I am not enough, I don’t know how, I need to learn/read/work/practice more. That causes this apparent suffering for apparent individual. But the good news is, there is no you. But it’s not good news for you, who feels real, really existing as separate individual and of course you will never really hear this, what hears this is this already. But not you, as there is no separate entity inside the body in control, who can actively let go, surrender, accept etc and thats the freedom, for no one.

 

Simply not two

So what is non-duality? It says simply not two. No separation. It is, what apparently happens. And for no one, as the one is separation, that is illusion.

And it’s very radical approach, as whats described here, has nothing to do with you and it doesn’t offer you nothing, simply because it doesn’t see you. You are illusion, not existing separately.

There is only wholeness and no path to wholeness. This is already. Already not two. Illusion is that it isn’t, that it is somewhere else, that there is becoming, I am not there yet, this isn’t it. It’s a dream, as it is already wholeness, enlightenment, liberation for no one. No path can lead you where you already seemingly are. Every step is this.

not two

This is home for no one

I feel sad. Empty. Unsatisfied. This isn’t what I want. I try to change this to better. So I can feel happy again and I try to do what ever, to maintain it. To feel good, or at least okay. But actually I want to feel always good and sattisfied and not to fall again, as then all, what was before good, doesn’t have any value anymore. And I feel again sad and empty. Tired of this circle…

 

Seeker constantly is seeking better experience, fulfilment, hapiness and some even seek spiritually enlightenment, to feel bliss and not to feel that something is missing. But the probleem is for the seeker, that there is always something missing, as the one, who is seeking, is the one, who creates the separation. So it can’t never feel whole, complete.

 

Theres nothing to seek, nothing to find, as there isn’t space and time. Space and time is illusion, it’s constantly this. THIS! No before or after. Only THIS. Nothing missing really! It’s everything and whole already. The one, who’s seeking, can’t never see that. As the one, is illusion, not real. And this is too simple for the complex mind, thats even not real.

 

This is home, this is free. Uncoditionally.

The drop in ocean

The drop in ocean doesn’t think it is separate, although it may seem sometime as separate, but it’s still part of ocean, oneness. Drop in ocean can’t know or experience the oneness as it isn’t separate. As us, people, aren’t individuals, with each one living in different reality. It’s illusion. Me is illusion. Separation is illusion. And one can’t never understand it as one is dreaming and don’t know it. When the dream ends, there is realisation, that there was never individual me, with personal life, goals, thoughts, ideas, purposes. It was just what happened, without anyone.

  

You

 

Is

 

Illusion

our community

Ere Parek

ere@nonduality.ee

Raigo Kõiv

raigo@nonduality.ee

No One

No One

No stories, but still...

As everything is a story, it doesn’t matter what to say. And yet sharing stories seems to happen all the time. What happens after “liberation” is that these stroies doesn’t belong to anyone anymore. These aren’t attached, these stroies aren’t mine stories, they are not believed to be true, they just are empty. As everything. As this message. Empty.

And some lovely empty quotes by no one below (hahah or above) :

"Dream ends and no ones wake up"

Jim Newman

“Home is oneness, home is my original nature. it is right here, simply in what is. There is nowhere else to go and nothing else I have to become.”

Tony Parsons