As I was meditating this morning I thought about my thoughts about self. I am. I am what? I am this now? I hold a memory of who I was, of what I did then. Is that memory me?
I thought of how my bedroom is a thing, a place, a space, a reality that I live within. But when the sunlight comes onto the walls suddenly a shape is cut out in the yellow light on yellow paint. If I did not see what I expected to see but instead connected with what I am seeing that elongated rectangle of sunlight washing the wall would read as a shape pushing out of the wall. The corner is no longer a corner but rather an extruding rectangle of hyper saturated reality. I do not see the ceiling unless the lowering sun washes across the flattened space where the attic sky parlour leans in to form a roof.
I see the Buddhas on my altar as dark and dusty in much of winter but when the sun comes they are clear, strong and seem to reform in great strength.
What if I am like that room? I hold in my mind what it “appears” to be. However, when circumstances change I need to pay attention. I need to see with beginners eyes the new moment of beginning. I need to hear with beginners ears the thoughts that show a new sound of realization. It is all about attention and intention for me.
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I was this. I fear this. I can only be this. I have changed who I am steadily in my life as I seek a deeper more compassionate connection to myself. I have learned to not abuse myself with the mental slave whipping of negative thoughts. And as the sun washes onto the walls and changes what I perceive my “space” to be, I realize that gently allowing is where strength lies. Releasing a tense grasp on my form and manifestation, allows me to be calmer, safer and more patient. The sun will comes. The shapes and colors will change. Breathe into that which is that.
The self is just a mind habit. At least I think. Breathe and allow the lessons, the shadow times and notice the sweep of brilliant illumination that changes everything.