Earlier I was sure of so many things, now I am sure of nothing.
But I feel that I have lost nothing by not knowing, because all my knowledge was false.
My not knowing was in itself knowledge of the fact that all knowledge is ignorance, that 'I do not know' is the only true statement the mind can make.
Take the idea 'I was born'.
You may take it to be true.
It is not.
You were never born, nor will you ever die.
It is the idea that was born and shall die, not you.
By identifying yourself with it you became mortal.
Just like in a cinema all is light, so does consciousness become the vast world.
Look closely, and you will see that all names and forms are but transitory waves on the ocean of consciousness, that only consciousness can be said to be, not its transformations.
In the immensity of consciousness a light appears, a tiny point that moves rapidly and traces shapes, thoughts and feelings, concepts and ideas, like the pen writing on paper.
And the ink that leaves a trace is memory.
You are that tiny point and by your movement the world is ever re- created.
Stop moving, and there will be no world.
Look within and you will find that the point of light is the reflection of the immensity of light in the body, as the sense 'I am'.
There is only light, all else appears.
But I feel that I have lost nothing by not knowing, because all my knowledge was false.
My not knowing was in itself knowledge of the fact that all knowledge is ignorance, that 'I do not know' is the only true statement the mind can make.
Take the idea 'I was born'.
You may take it to be true.
It is not.
You were never born, nor will you ever die.
It is the idea that was born and shall die, not you.
By identifying yourself with it you became mortal.
Just like in a cinema all is light, so does consciousness become the vast world.
Look closely, and you will see that all names and forms are but transitory waves on the ocean of consciousness, that only consciousness can be said to be, not its transformations.
In the immensity of consciousness a light appears, a tiny point that moves rapidly and traces shapes, thoughts and feelings, concepts and ideas, like the pen writing on paper.
And the ink that leaves a trace is memory.
You are that tiny point and by your movement the world is ever re- created.
Stop moving, and there will be no world.
Look within and you will find that the point of light is the reflection of the immensity of light in the body, as the sense 'I am'.
There is only light, all else appears.
Nisargadatta Maharaj
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