|
Second, you walked on your way, passing along the way to the grocery a gorgeous specimen of the species, beautiful mind and all. This person who passed, slowly and deliberately looked in your direction, and you directly leaned on the inner work again to notice what self was at home. So clear it came to you, not a tittle of clinging, only a glad heart at life's delight all round in that particular transaction. The True Self, considerate of the other, awake at home, not out looking for trouble, not out trying to prove a thing, found delight in the delightful sight and at once treated the delight with the utmost regard. The smiles exchanged therefore seemed genuine, thoroughly pleasing for the absence of any craving noticeable.
Naturally, noticing's an art and varies moment to moment and from sight to sight. So there is no predetermined outcome. And nobody you know nearby in your world today notices everything, which does not say that Observation Godly cannot in principle be in fact human; it's just not noticed here, today.
Contrast the meeting of A Beautful Mind by the contrary character, the self fake, where the transaction becomes a sighting to be coveted by the craving for intimacy, and at once to be cowered by a reticence to get near for fear of ultimacy and having to face the big picture, Life's Big Will. Of course, all this could be dressed up some along with the fake self trying to make an impression, but this account covers the essential point. The fake self desires to make a change to be accepted, but for what it can get out of it, unaware of the very charm embedded in just being its own self real.
Much to the point, and plainly said, the self fake lives in a world of Self Against World, the two divided and at odds. The perceived division is daunting with death prospects for the self lurking beneath every transaction. The self real lives in a world of Self And World, the two united and in concert. The noticed union is so delightful, even death can be said to be part of the symphony. (This saying lets alone the observation of some on the Identity of Self, World; that would be another wording to mean, You Are Your World.)
No matter what rises in a transaction, or in sitting quiet and alone, no judgment of the self will be helpful. The false self is no mean whipping boy and needs no recrimination but attention, the close careful kind afforded every delight, in this case consideration of the pain stored up within the palatial room of willfulness. The pain's after all deep and long-suffered from the birth canal, maybe back to the big bang and forward to the very moment when the armor of will gets tested. Like a rat in a maze, the false self fakes it but cannot for its own sake and by its own self break the habit of poor self care. It so needs all the help it can get. |
|