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Liberate Your Self
Consciousness is still,
Void, an empty space.
Thoughts come and go,
Through the mind they race.
Incessant and compulsive,
Commenting on it all,
Thoughts persuade you to identify,
Imagination is our downfall.
Labels and criticisms,
Biases and prejudice,
Products of the ego,
Resulting from our ignorance.
For you are not the author of your thoughts,
Whom you think you are,
The truth of your identity cannot be known,
Yet the realization is not so far.
When you see that it is you,
Who is browning your eyes and beating your heart,
You identify with your whole organism,
You see that you were implied from the start.
Like an oak tree is implied in the acorn,
The person was implied in the earth,
Just as an apple tree apples,
To people the earth gives birth.
We did not come into this world,
Out of it is where we came,
Look around, you are IT,
We are all the same.
The one life,
In a myriad of forms,
Imagination separated,
Falsely segregated.
If we could just learn to see,
To hear and to feel,
Without the stories of the mind,
Distorting our hidden, marvelous view.
Then peace could be found,
At this time which is now,
Where is was waiting all along,
Patiently as you sought what was wrong.
Superficial desires,
Striving and pursuing happiness,
Believing certain things could fulfill,
Dreams of success and thrills.
But all of the desire,
Is born of discontent,
Thinking the next best thing,
Will make your happiness different.
But the pain is inherent in the pleasure,
Like a back is to a front,
Running in circles will never,
Get you where you want.
What you really want is lasting,
A happiness that cannot be shaken,
This is attainable,
But do not be mistaken,
The journey to liberation,
Takes much dedication.
To be free of suffering,
Requires the end of psychological time,
To see that all exists only now,
Will free you from all that binds.
Do not resist what is happening,
For it is already the case,
You are suffering unnecessarily,
For it took the entire evolution of the cosmos for us to come to this place.
Try to imagine what it is like,
To curl up and sleep at night,
And to never wake up again,
The discontinuation of your life.
Now imagine waking up,
Before never having gone to sleep,
This is when you were born,
Memories of the past you did not keep.
When I am alive,
Death is not.
When death is,
I am not.
The only experience,
One can have after death,
Is one similar to being born again,
Regaining your breath.
So do not be afraid,
Of the disintegration of this temporary role,
Enjoy the ride,
Nothing can touch the soul.
