Ripples

Sometimes I have conversations with people who are not there. Not out loud conversations. No Thorazine is required just yet, thank you very much. But I definitely catch myself having spirited debates and heated arguments with folks who exist only in my head. Which doesn't stop them from speaking forcefully, and, at times, eloquently on their own behalf. On occasion they are people I know. Other times they are purely fictional creations, brought into existence to question my thinking, my actions, or just piss me off. (Because there's not enough real people pissing me off, I've have got to make some extra up.) Anyway, the reason I thought this was worth discussing is that I'm fascinated by what I like to call "the bifurcated self." Consciousness that has split itself in two in order to create its own suffering. (Because there's not enough real suffering going on, we need to make more.) But I've recently become more fascinated by the idea that there is no self at all. That the solution to bifurcation is not reuniting warring selves, it's dropping the entire concept of self. The memories, emotions, thoughts and attitudes that combine to create the self are finally recognized as nothing more than ripples on the surface of a pond. And the truth of what we are, collectively and individually, is the pond itself. That which silently embraces the endless dance of form. Deep. Clear. Still. Reflecting the infinite and eternal, while receiving with equanimity both the beauty and the ugliness that falls into it - even the critical inner voice which is talking to me right now. Excuse me while I respond.

 "Shut up, I am too a pond!"

What did you expect something profound …….hell no, until next time Toodles!