The mysterious river of life ever flows and we are carried downstream effortlessly, but never ceaselessly, and never able to grab hold of a branch or reed to stop the movement of time. Only in our dreams are we lucky enough to relive or experience that what has past…
Evolution has bred in us a consensual view of reality and purpose. Yet, our individual lives can be delusional to some extent, if they’re based upon unknowing (subconscious) choices made by a fearful ego-self early during development…
Suddenly, there was no self anymore and the I became a dazzling swirling ocean of color and beauty, a pure dimensionless state of consciousness that is infinite, eternal, and ineffable…
Remember, no one creates the universe – so be no one…
Every journey ends with a new beginning, as all viajes do
Yet there is no end
and was no beginning…
Imagine standing beside a vast sea of flowers, an ocean of color
Spreading out as far as the eye can see in the bright morning sunshine
Beautiful flowers, whichever you choose – daffodils, daisies, tulips, irises
The choice is yours
An ocean of flowers all in full bloom – abundance from horizon to horizon
The smell is sweet and intoxicating
Under a brilliant blue sky, the flowers sway in the breeze
It is your intention to cross the sea
But as you set out, you realize that flowers will be trampled underfoot
With every step you take, flowers will be crushed
You don’t want to, but there is no way to cross without altering their beauty
No way to cross without making your mark
You can’t help it – it’s your weight, it’s gravity, it’s the nature of existence in human form
You cannot help but damage some flowers on your soul’s path
That is the suffering of samsara
So you set out across the ocean
If you follow a straight path, you cross faster – but damage less
If you get lost, if you zig zag, you see more – but you damage more
So which is better – to cross faster or experience more?
Perhaps you wish to cross the ocean without damage?
Perhaps you wish not to cross the ocean at all?
For that cannot be
It is the essence of our existence, we must cross
But remember, flowers grow back
And are only temporary – without inherent existence, without permanence
It is the way of all things – they come and they go
You come and you go
It is the job of the bodhisattva
To help us cross the ocean
To give place to our suffering
And bring love and compassion to the world
Be your own bodhisattva
And bring love and compassion to the world