Craziness

It's getting tough out there.

Well, tough for those still locked into the illusion.

I heard of three suicides last week. One I had recently spent some time with and the other two were friends of close friends.

Beyond the obvious reaction of sadness and platitudes like "what a waste", the "could I have done something?" or "should I have done something?", there is a strange peace and acceptance. An understanding that if the illusion can not be escaped then it no longer has to be tolerated.

I read once that to awaken is to die without physical death. To die in this sense is to "escape" the illusion and abandon your story. This can be scary as it requires total intimacy with self rather than your idea of self.

This is no small task and one which we will all inevitably to face sooner or later. 

(As I write this news of the events in Paris are filtering through. More craziness. Same source.)

The inner torment which sees no relief, or the violence of Paris this weekend are, once again, an expression of a certain level of consciousness. They are different shades of the same colour.

Unfortunately both are entirely logical and, dare I say, reasonable at the level of awareness from which they manifest. Equally, and most importantly, the response to both is a measure of the consciousness which observes them.

Become involved and you will find no relief because the hallmark of that colour is the absence of relief. Maintain integrity and stability and a different opportunity presents itself.

Whoever committed the violence in Paris, (ISIS or false flag), is banking on the fact that the majority of people join them in their level of consciousness. There is no ideology. There is no desired outcome. There is no morality. There is only fear. Fear that others might escape their version of the game.

The Paris violence is just an expanded expression of the personal fear which keeps so many bound. Fear of disapproval, or 'failure' is, as witnessed three times this week, can be just as violent as any bomb.

In between worlds.

My sense is that we are at a fork in the road, a bifurcation in which those ready to abandon their story are moving into a powerful space of stability and self knowing. Those attempting toprolong the fiction are being overwhelmed by a tsunami of craziness., personal as well as societal.

The fiction upon which fear depends is intricate, slippery and sly. It will re-invent itself and may well disguise itself within as a false stability, spirituality, or acceptance. It will wear any mask it can to survive, it will adopt any identity it can. It is recognisable by its dissatisfaction, its pride, its opinion, its need to be right, its need to be heard, but most of all by its fear.

The truth resides in the stillness (although may not express as such). It arises from within rather than projected from outside. It is unperturbed by the noise of the fiction, disinterested in the story, and knows no fear.

At this moment in time many are finding themselves in a kind of hinterland. In between the fiction and the truth. The echo of old fears attempting to disturb the increasing stillness. As the stillness persists the stories are becoming more extreme in their competition for attention. 

There may well be more craziness, but the space from which you respond is your choice.

You will recognise the truth by its patience and undemanding nature, its ambivalence almost. It has no need to attract your attention for it is always present, always secure.Eternal in fact. 

The fiction screams for your attention, tempts you with the promise of more, even with the promise of truth. It is often exhilarating, invariably stimulating but ultimately unsatisfying. 

If you are caught between worlds remember your choice can neither be right nor wrong. Worrying about the choice means you have chosen fear, which is fine, because the truth will wait forever.

Go easy, tread lightly, stay free,

Bill