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The World

The world reflects my inner world.

When I am sad, the world cries with me. It can be a person who appears to be sad, crying for the same reason that I am crying for or even the skies which pours down gloomily; grieving and mourning in tandem my mental state.

And when I am wise, there will be wisdom in the world. It is my judgment or misperception of the world, forgetting that they are merely reflecting my inner state of what I think or do not think of myself. And when I am dumb, the world dumbs with me; yet when I recognize the mirrors, the response and reactions given me; without judgment or hanging on; I am free to choose again what is it I want; instead of responding or reacting to my mirrors. And even as I choose to respond or react, it will be just an experience, of what is wished to be experienced. A beginning and an ending – the unconditional moment – without expectations, without clinging, without condemnation, without suffering.

When I am in love, the aspects of myself which I think I am worthy of being in love of within myself will come into my life. But when I think it is the mirror that I am in love with, or that the mirror is in love with me; I am once again pulled back as a drop in the ocean. Am I the drop or am I the ocean? When I hang on to the drop as a drop, then I am the drop, forgetting that I am the ocean. Yet, as a drop, even if that is what I think I am at that moment in time, it does not cease the truth that I am the ocean and that the ocean is me. When I perceive that a drop is mine, I am acknowledging that I am no longer the ocean and the ocean will not allow that; for that is not truth.

What is outer is inner, and what is inner creates what is outer. An action, a person, a situation, a thing; they are of no difference except the meanings I have given them and thus create stories to justify my hanging on. And all stories created by me will exactly validate it, because I am the creator and that is what I want to hear. The truth will intercept, not allowing me to go far, as if a gentle nudge though I will take a hard fall, to remind me once again, of whom I am and reinstate truth.

Why hang on to a toy, when they are merely toys. Watch them play as how I pull my strings without my doing. They will move and stand as I will them to be, so when they start to attack or hurt me, that is exactly how I had wish them to play with me too. Only I don’t remember, only I don’t recall; and even when I do, I might not want to let it go. What would propel me in this indulgence of lie, it is when I am still asleep, when truth and honesty if not what I am ready to receive.

Releasing them all, I become the One.  I am once again the Ocean, or even beyond that. What would make me deny what I cannot contain? Trivial, trivial ignorance and unconscious moments; yet an important insight for evolution. For the world is me, and I am the world – to think so otherwise, I would have missed the point.

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