Alan Watts had some interesting ideas about "suffering". For example, he said... "To eat is to survive to be hungry." In other words, when we move beyond victimhood and accept reality as it is -- without unnecessary meaning or resistance -- confronting self-inflicted suffering can give us a sense of freedom.
Unexpectedly and quite surprisingly, and literally out of nowhere: yesterday morning watering the garden, I experienced the presence of my father, without the baggage and misguided weight of my memory -- what I remembered as some kind of mistaken identity -- and there was only a radiant glowing light, a light that's in all things. That communication was in the form of LIGHT and was carrying INFORMATION like a code. I was never really close to my dad in "real life". I didn't even go to his funeral. But yesterday's experience -- which is still with me -- was the close I've come to communicating with someone who has died. The curtain separating life and death is very thin. Part of "The Work" is to transcend what we remember, going exterior from the body and the identities we remember (which are as fabricated as our physical bodies) and what's present, what's actually REAL, is radiant LIGHT.
Alan Watts had some interesting ideas about "suffering". For example, he said... "To eat is to survive to be hungry." In other words, when we move beyond victimhood and accept reality as it is -- without unnecessary meaning or resistance -- confronting self-inflicted suffering can give us a sense of freedom.
I like this - very true. Thanks for posting!
Unexpectedly and quite surprisingly, and literally out of nowhere: yesterday morning watering the garden, I experienced the presence of my father, without the baggage and misguided weight of my memory -- what I remembered as some kind of mistaken identity -- and there was only a radiant glowing light, a light that's in all things. That communication was in the form of LIGHT and was carrying INFORMATION like a code. I was never really close to my dad in "real life". I didn't even go to his funeral. But yesterday's experience -- which is still with me -- was the close I've come to communicating with someone who has died. The curtain separating life and death is very thin. Part of "The Work" is to transcend what we remember, going exterior from the body and the identities we remember (which are as fabricated as our physical bodies) and what's present, what's actually REAL, is radiant LIGHT.
What an intriguing experience! I agree about LIGHT!