SO; THAT’S WHAT HAPPENED IN THE JUNGLE. And in Bombay. Nothing happened.

What is seen cannot ever be un-seen. It is all so perfectly simple. Always and everywhere perfect Brilliant Stillness. And no-thing, which has no name: Outpouring, constantly. Seen now, always, not as from this mind/body thing. And the talking about it, when it arises, cannot not be, and the writing about it, it would appear, cannot not be. And I am very acutely, keenly aware of the difficulty this presents.

It was Wayne Liquorman, in his preface to Ramesh’s Consciousness Speaks, who made the thoroughly pithy observation that “The mere incident of enlightenment does not necessarily confer an ability to communicate the concomitant understanding.”

He got that right. I am not a teacher. There is no interest in teaching, and the mind/body thing does not have the skill or qualification. From the perspective of anyone with knowledge of these things, what you have here is one very coarse renegade part-Indian (wrong kind of Indian) carpenter from the hills on your hands, notably and thoroughly lacking in any kind of ‘skillful means’ and having only a limited intellectual comprehension of the subject, and lacking the training or discipline that could have been instilled by years of meditation or service. Saying that the david thing is seriously flawed and not cut out for what is happening here is being unnecessarily kind. Except of course that the david thing has been designed and cut out and conditioned for exactly this. Consciousness has a sick sense of humor.

There is only this. And this would be a preposterous claim if there were any‘one’ here to claim it, which there is not. There is only this, and this is clear. I know absolutely nothing about anything except this: knowing, seeing, understanding; the knowing, seeing, understanding that is not, that is beyond human understanding, has occurred here, is here. Seen now always not as from this mind/body. Unearned, unsought, even unasked for, at least overtly. It is unspeakable, cannot be expressed, cannot be thought.

Rumi was right:

“As salt dissolves in the ocean,
I was swallowed up in You
Beyond doubt or being sure.

Suddenly, here in my chest
A star
Comes out so clear
It draws all stars to it.”

And Ramesh is right: it’s got to be what he calls ‘divine hypnosis.’ How else can you explain it? All these mind/bodies are staring at it, are bathed in it, are it, and can’t see it. How can you show someone something they are already, especially when it is no-thing and they are no-one? It is all so incredibly simple. There is obviously no one home. All-That-Is, is Love beyond love, Light beyond light, Peace beyond peace, Freedom beyond any concept of freedom… throw capital letters on words and shout them, cry them, weep them.

And folks scratch their heads, say they don’t get it, “Well, that’s kind of philosophical…” they say; or, “But I like my story, I like my drama;” or, “Gee, aren’t we sounding Advaitically correct today.” All defended, in various ways, from seeing What Is. Even devout seekers, when they hear, “this is a dream,” say “Uh huh,” and keep talking. No one stops, to see, to be. Pardon the crude david thing if it exhibits a marked lack of interest in these discussions.

And Hafiz was right too:

“Dear ones, you who are trying to learn the miracle
of love through the use of reason, I am terribly afraid
you will never see the point.”

Or, through the use of experience or thought or language or emotion, I might add. It simply has to be in-seen.

Ultimately, there is truly nothing to say. The dream continues; and there is re-entering the dream (not by choice but because that, apparently, is what is to occur in this dream character) with the full knowledge that it is a dream… But you just can’t expect I-I to take any of it seriously.

And that hermit’s cave still looks awfully good. Nothing is needed. It is so completely not important that anything happen, that anything come of this. No need, no requirement, no mandate, no role. Simple. Utterly simple.