And for a moment it was recognized again.

Realized.

That the world is not a fixed thing where stuff happens.

It’s created constantly.

Just like the me.

The me.

Not a personality, an entity, that runs into problems and blissful situations, that is threatened by life, or celebrated by life.

All of that, including the me, is simply arising now.

Nothing is happening to a solid me.

Me is part of the happening.

There IS only happening.

Or All There Is.

There is no life beyond that, there is no truth after that or without it.

It is SO simple that it insults the mind.

Which also doesn’t exist as a fixed, separate phenomenon.

The world, life, trees, feelings, me and you, the future and the past: all are created constantly.

You have heard this before, probably.

About the All There Is, the Oneness, Consciousness, and how nothing was, is, or will ever be not contained by that.

BE that.

And that, that simplicity, that intelligence, that non-excluding All There Is, was realized again, here.

And the personal responsibility stopped making sense.

The worrying lost its solid ground and was seen as all the rest that is nothing but a constant play, and is not actually the rest.

There is only ever All There Is.

The Eternal Now.

With everything in it.

The good, the bad, the ugly.

The helplessness.

The power.

The longing.

The deception.

The dreams.

And the deep wish to become free from all of the things we don’t like or want (which will never happen, of course).

All of this (which is actually just this) was seen, experienced, realized, and known.

Until the mind (that doesn’t really exist as a thing) presented itself again, claiming to know what to do now, how to keep this going, how to be free.

Pinching everything off again.

Cutting off the utter richness, trying to claim it.

It’s super weird.

I have been really very opposed to this ‘Oneness speak’, this ‘There Is Only This’, this fucking non-duality babble, but it somehow revealed itself again.

I am very, very aware of how stupid and lofty and unrealistic and overly simplistic this all sounds when you’re suffering and life is dark and dangerous and uncertain.

But if the story would allow ‘you’ to let go of that for just a second, if the constant creation of the burdened, searching mind would just stop for a bit, the realization that this is actually true might arise.

There IS only now, and this, this Allness that seems to have so, so, so many different elements.

You’re not doing it.

You’re not even being it.

And you’re most certainly not to blame.

This is All There Is.

This is happening by itself, and everything is included.

Even the me that seems to be separated.

Even the fear.

The anger.

The exhaustion.

EVERYTHING.

Because there is nothing outside this.

There is no you that is not this.

You are EVERYTHING.

And I get it, I really, totally get it, if this makes no sense.

I am not writing this to convince you or present any arguments that make this ultimately right, I am not trying to explain it or sell it, and I am sorry if this somehow insults you.

I know what that’s like.

I know how utterly insensitive this can look.

But the I that doesn’t really exist obviously couldn’t resist writing this.

Whatever happens, happens.

Not to a me, not to a you.

Within the All There Is, it’s just happening.

A big, tasty, amazing Happening.

—

(Photo by @iriser, for Unsplash)