So here's a.
.
.
Some kind of spontaneous reflection on.
.
.
Insight.
As if it really exists,
But still.
.
.
Let's entertain it.
It's the middle of the night actually,
It's two thirty in the morning.
And as I awoke,
It was being entertained by metaphors and stories,
Stimulated by a Facebook post on the nature of the self,
The seemingly the self.
And what arose was a couple of metaphors.
One was being in front of a door,
Big door.
I'm searching in my pocket for the right key.
I'm desperately trying to get that key in the lock.
You know,
And every time I put it in it,
It doesn't quite fit,
It kind of almost fits.
I think it's gonna,
You know,
Turn the lock.
But it doesn't,
So I keep fumbling with new keys.
Yeah,
So that's one,
This huge door.
And the other metaphor is.
.
.
Something someone said to me many years ago.
If you're on the wrong train,
Every stop is the wrong stop.
I really love that.
Every stop is the wrong stop.
I love it.
Something around,
Yes,
I don't even know I'm on the wrong train.
And I'm trying to work out desperately which stop is what.
Where am I?
And yes,
It's somewhat akin to this whole business of is there a self or isn't there a self.
And as Donald Trump might say,
Don't know where he's come from,
It's a heist.
It's a hoax.
It's a hoax,
That's right.
It could well be a heist as well.
It's a hoax.
It's a spiritual hoax,
Yeah.
It's as if Mr.
Thinky or Mrs.
Thinky or that presupposed self is desperately trying to get out of itself.
So it's searching for those keys and it sees the door in front of it.
It's yeah,
It just wants to get out.
And surely if it gets the right key,
If it fits,
The door will open.
And lo and behold,
Freedom.
Well it's in this train and it's just not,
It's scratching its head.
It's going well surely this is,
What's this stop then?
There's a debate on the different stations and the meaning of them and the right one to get off.
Of course that train's never going to stop.
And there are as many stations as there are sounds in the Ganges.
And in a way,
Mr.
Thinky doesn't want to get off.
And it really doesn't want to find the right key.
It's very addicted to itself actually.
It is indeed a very,
Very sealed system.
Very closed.
And it's a closed loop.
It's a spiritual hoax,
Yeah.
And as I say that there's a sigh,
Well at least in this body there's a resonant truth around that.
And as it speaks it knows,
Having said that,
That the words themselves are not coming from a source.
They're just coming,
As it were,
Into this freshness from whoever knows where.
Perhaps it never left the station and perhaps it's really going nowhere.
And perhaps as it looks at this door in front of it and steps back it will see the door jam that surrounds it is not attached to anything.
There's infinite space and beauty around that door.
There's no need to even go through it.
Yeah,
So it implies when we engage with this existential dilemma,
We're very keen to follow the finger that points to the moon.
But we're not very keen to check back from the source of where that finger's pointing.
And for me that is the delusion.
There's a contradiction there,
There's an existential contradiction that seemingly doesn't want to resolve itself.
Because if it did it would have to give up,
It would have to surrender,
It would have to admit it never left the station.
Because how can something that is empty of itself,
If that indeed is the case,
Point anywhere or understand if there is or isn't a self?
It forces itself as it were in this moment to just rest in itself.
It's game set and match.
There isn't the noble quest at this point.
There's nothing to be done.
It's already done itself.
Such a kind of,
Yeah,
It's the heist.
The police have turned up to arrest the driver and in a way they're arresting the car.
The driver's got away once again.
And Mrs.
Thinky does not want to surrender at all.
They're not at all interested.
Yeah,
It's like that.
So the invitation,
I guess when the Buddha invited an entertaining from the sensory perspective in the scene,
Et cetera,
Only the scene,
It was an invitation to let that rest in itself.
And perhaps it's just too simple for this mind,
This thinking mind in this particular culture has extreme issues.
It's trapped in itself,
Of course,
But it never left the station.
It already is not actually confined.
There's no confinement.
We don't need the key and we don't need to guess which station we're in.
Anyway,
That's offered with some play and humour for there to be an entertaining of where the finger is pointing from,
Not what it's pointing to.
We're very good at that.
But the presupposition that there's something actually pointing is the issue.
And once something gets that,
So to speak,
The more that rests in itself,
It doesn't need to do any more.
And in a way,
You don't have to go by your own experience.
You just have to let experience go by itself.
This is just an invitation.
Something here doesn't really know what it's talking about.
It's just hearing these words.
And yet something rests in itself as well.
