Throughout my time in the Denial Years, I was still acting and living from the same place. Or, the same forces were acting on me and being transmitted through me, digested and transformed, into what I perceived as my personal choices.
The rigidity of my rational mind could not accept the facts that I was not choosing, that I didn’t have free will… My mind wanted control over things which it could not ever have had any control over, since my mind was always a creation of the very forces it sought to control.
This rigidity and strain, when I fully believed in it, was the source of all of my suffering. My mind sought ever more strict and rigid control- resisting what it perceived as a prison and an imposition upon it. In reality, the mind is only a way of trying to separate the quality of complete freedom from that which created and sustains the ability to be free.
What I perceived as my thoughts were merely a kind of mind programme running only to seek awareness distraction from another kind of perception.
The more I believed in the mistaken paradigm that the thoughts come from me, the more desperate I felt to defend my position as a thinker of those thoughts. The more victimized I felt by the world - for what kind of world would create a being that is perpetually desperate, anxious, distracted, entirely dependent upon a strong of thoughts for it’s very existence?
The space- dwep, dark, and empty - is what I am. There are thoughts which I may become aware of. But I am not a thinker of these thoughts. That story isn’t mine. But I can mistake it for mine. And I can most easily mistake it for mine when I am less aware of all the other perceptions available to me.
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