rest-in-being

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Not even oneness.

This “message” isn’t about belief, truth, knowing, or connection. Those all presume separation and someone having them. Which are both illusions. It’s the apparent end of the one who could ever know or believe anything.

It’s not that “all things are connected” or “part of a whole”, that’s still the dream of parts, relationships, meaning and separation. There aren’t any things at all. No parts to connect, no whole to reach, no one to be unified or separate.

It can’t be proven because it’s not separate from anything. Proof would need distance, but there’s none. No subject, no object. Just what is. Not a state, not a belief, not a knowing. Too simple for that, not even oneness.

It doesn’t bring peace or frustration or any particular outcome, because there’s no one left to receive anything. Just this, already. Whatever’s seemingly happening. Nothing to gain and no one to get it.

Thoughts can still circle, calling it “pure emptiness” or “oneness,” but that’s only the dream interpreting the dream… thought speaking to thought, trying to pin down the ungraspable. It turns what is (nothing) into something- something to understand, believe, grasp, keeping the loop of separation alive.

Thoughts may still circle, calling it “pure emptiness” or “oneness,” but that’s only the dream interpreting the dream… thought talking to thought, trying to pin down the ungraspable. It turns what is (nothing) into something to understand, believe, or grasp, keeping the loop of separation alive.

Even framing “oneness” as a belief some people feel as true keeps the subject–object split: someone feeling, someone believing, someone experiencing. That isn’t the collapse of the dream, it’s just the dream trying to explain itself. And it sounds so reasonable, which is why it’s so seductive. But in the end, it still says: “you are here and something else is there.”

Still waiting…

Still suffering…

Still searching…

Still interpreting…

And what’s being pointed to has nothing to do with any of that. Not even close.

[rest-in-being]

Love sets you free… I once wrote.

What does it mean?

It didn’t come from thought. It wasn’t something I believed. It just… appeared. Like a whisper from nowhere. A knowing that didn’t belong to anyone.

Not love as a feeling, not the bond, the warmth, the story between two. But something far more wild, far more empty. A love that doesn’t ask for anything. Doesn’t need to be returned. Doesn’t come and go.

Just this. This breath. This movement. This light that doesn’t come from anywhere. Life without a center. A beauty that shines without needing a reason.

It’s not about two becoming one. It’s the end of the illusion that there were ever two. It’s the quiet death of the seeker, the one who hoped, who longed, who needed meaning. And when that illusion dies, what’s left is not loss. It’s not absence. It’s everything.

Effortless. Weightless. No center. No name.

Love doesn’t free you. Love is the freedom that was never missing.

🌸🤍

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Even surrender becomes a trap.

Another doing. Another strategy.

Another illusion of control,

seemingly reinforcing the illusion of duality.

Trying to stop trying… is still trying.

Trying to surrender… is still tension.

There’s no escape from the dream through effort, only the collapse of the one who tries.

And that collapse

isn’t the fulfillment of the dream,

but the end of the dreamer.

The end of the game and the imagined player, who never was.

It’s not freedom to choose.

It’s freedom from the chooser.

The dreamer believes it can wake itself.

That enough effort will dissolve the illusion.

But all that striving is the dream, continuing,

still maintaining the illuson of separation.

Seeking sustains the seeker.

Seeking is the avoidance of what already is:

unbroken, whole and complete.

Eventually, the effort burns out.

The seeker grows tired.

The “you” becomes exhausted.

And life, in its strange mercy…

may just kill you.

Not the body,

but the idea of “you.”

And in that death,

what was always true becomes obvious:

There was never a you apart from life.

And that…

that is the freedom that was never missing.

[rest-in-being]

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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 🙂

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‘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.

[rest-in-being]

You cannot observe or know life as an object.

Why? Because you are that very life.

The mind tries to step back to analyze, to accumulate knowledge and experience in hopes of gaining understanding or control. But all of that is part of the same illusion of separation. And that, too, is simply the seeming movement of life.

What appears as the seeker is already the movement itself. Trying to do something about life, to fix it, observe it, understand it, only reinforces the illusion of being apart from it. Knowledge can describe, but it can never be. Every description, concept, or image is just a snapshot, a frozen frame. Not the living, flowing movement itself.

There is no outside vantage point. You cannot step outside of life to look at life, just as you cannot step outside of yourself to truly see yourself. Because without separation how could you?

The “me” wants to observe, control, improve, awaken. But that very effort confirms and sustains the illusion of separation.

As U.G. said: “You are that movement.” So any attempt to grasp it, hold it, or do something about it... is already too late.

And yet, even that is just the seeming movement of life, seemingly. As there’s no actual movement from one moment to another, because there are no separate moments, no time, no continuity. Just this, appearing as movement.

And what we call the “flow of life” is also only seemingly a flow. It appears to move, but that movement is not happening in time, it’s a timeless appearing, like frames in a dream that only seem connected by continuity. There is no actual movement from past to future, no real progression, just this, appearing as motion, change, unfolding. Without time, there is no flow. And yet, the mind interprets it as such.

So the phrases "flow of life" or "movement of life" are just pointers, useful in language, but ultimately part of the illusion of linearity and separation. What appears as movement is simply this, endlessly unfolding, yet never going anywhere.

So even saying “you are the movement” (as U.G. does) is already too much, and yet, paradoxically, it still cuts through the illusion of trying to stand apart from life. You are it and there is no separate you in it.

[rest-in-being]