End of story

I have no idea how to poetically start this blog because I am currently consumed by the excitement of the energy that is driving the desire to write it. Fortunately, however, poetry is not needed at this point and would if anything confuse the matter, despite this I do wish that I had a picture to illustrate a certain point I am about to make, never mind!

So, recently I was able to break what has been one of the longest cycles of neuroticism I have experienced in many years, probably around 4-5 months long maybe even longer. I was trapped like a fly in a web of the mind and after many years of what I consider reasonably clear-headed living it was quite the shock in early January when I sort of just… ‘woke up’.

It was a hilarious experience that was triggered by a simple conversation around Christmas time which brought me back to reality and gradually broke down the false walls of the mind made story I had been caught up in. Without wanting to create more food for the mind I quickly found some of my old favourites, guru’s, spiritual chaps, long bearded folk and the sort and soon enough the clouds of thoughts which like never ending storms had blocked out the skies, cleared and all was as it is, as the bright blue sky of the sweetest summer afternoon (poetry?)

Anyway, from this place, the false is seen so easily that then many great burdens I felt on my shoulders for all those months began to fade away. Those people, situation and objects that I had seen as the villains of my story transformed into teachers, I was able to see what I had been ignoring the whole time. My own role the story, as the bloody story teller! Needless to say, when telling a story to those who listen, the one who creates and tells it is in a far greater seat of power than the character within the tale.

What a liberation it is the moment awareness of reality sweeps over the minds and washes out all the tripe. There is just one catch we all seem to miss and what seems to hold most us back from this freedom and it’s a kind of addiction to the character in the story. After all the character has a name, a family, friends, relationships, important duties, a place of birth, a tribe and all these other things that have been added over the years. What of the personal dramas we carry with us as well, yes we mustn’t forget what old miss Wiggins said about Nora’s cat last Saturday, it’s all very important…

Yet the character is not real, the storyteller is the only reality and there can be no story about the story teller or it will, quite immediately, become another story. From this place, awareness of all else is possible, as soon as the stories are seen for what they are, then their significance dissolves away. Be aware, the character will not take kindly to being upstaged and will resist, with all of its might and cunning because once it is seen from awareness, it is no more.

Fear not! Because what power does the character in the story have that was not given by the story teller and so cannot simply be taken away as soon as you realise you are that? When you ask this and seek inside to search for the answer, you must go all the way, to where themselves are coming from because it is that source, that spring where no further stories can be told. The mind, after so much conditioning, will, of course, continue for a while and often we will forget once more that we are not the characters but as soon as we see this, liberation from the story occurs instantly.

I noticed a pattern and drew a picture of a man with two vortex’s, one spinning around the mind and another larger one spinning around that down to the abdomen, each feeding the other. As light came towards the eyes of the figure, it was caught within the vortex’s, twisted, distorted and final received by the man. Instead of seeing the light as it was, he only saw what those two vortex’s had twisted and manipulated so that he would act and react according to this new information.

These two vortex’s are the mind and the emotion, both of which feed each other, the further from reality we go, the more elaborate and insane the story becomes and the greater the burden of its emotional stress and the more likely we are to emotionally respond. It’s a vicious cycle and very few people have ever broken it because it starts from birth, stories create stories which creates stories, almost like they are parasitic creatures surviving and reproducing through humans.

(input Information) -> story -> emotion -> response -> story -> emotion -> response

It’s a cycle that feeds itself, the story is reinforced by the emotion attached to it which triggers responses which only feed the story and cause more problems but admitting this means ending the story and that can feel like death to someone used to a lifetime as one character. To find this character and weed him out because he also plays every other role in the story, one must simply look, from awareness at the places where resistances comes. This is not a story, it is only concerned with what is not a story and therefore even death must be cast aside because it is a story, so, what is not a story?

All of this can just become another story (last time I use the word I promise…) or you can actual really look and I tell you this much, It wasn’t until I saw my neuroticism that I realised all the ways it was poisoning me.

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