"Understanding is the booby prize."
"I want to understand this river but all I have is a bucket."
There is no self. There is only self. We are awareness. We are objects within awareness. We are appearances in awareness. I am that. I am nothing. I am everything. I am conscious. I am consciousness. I’m in relationship with consciousness.
And of course my personal favorite: I'm aware of awareness.
Sure, let’s make the thing that is aware of the thing be aware of being aware of the thing.
Got it? Yay!
This is what happens when we turn to the mind- whatever that is- to figure things out.
Because even when we have absolute certainty that we know the answers and get it… have we got the answers? Do we get it?
After all, thought depends on itself to see itself. It depends on itself to understand itself.
Making for a very biased and selective "understanding."
Comprehension is always limited by the capabilities of the thing doing the comprehending.
And in this regard, that thing is not big enough for the job.
This is a key flaw in all those inquiries, enlightenment methods, attempts to “see beyond” the self, and self improvements.
I mean, we also don’t know what the self is, let alone how to improve or enlighten it.
It’s just not possible to know what’s bigger than ourselves.
So any claims of understanding are self-serving.
In every sense of that very apt expression.
And no matter how much we may insist when we think we know something... we’re being played the fool by thought.
Because the mind only pretends to understand. While actually not the least bit interested in understanding.
I mean, what would happen if thinking was able to truly see how nothing, insignificant, limited and unimportant, it really is?
Yeah, no way thought’s going to be good with that.
So the only reasonable state is ever, “I don't know.”
Because honey, we don’t.
No matter how articulately anyone expounds their point of view, it remains an opinion.
So all the blah blah about consciousness and awareness and self and “I am”?
Masturbatory nonsense. Just mind playing with itself.
And yes it may be comforting to think we understand consciousness. But really we're never truly going to be able to do anything but guess.
Even though mind loudly insists it knows something.
Nothing wrong with any of this, of course.
It’s fine to play with our selves. Nothing wrong with a little self manipulation.
It's just that we’ll wait forever for that happy ending.
Silly, unsatisfied little things.
Aren’t we adorable?
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