Rather than opening as an unadulterated expression of Mystery, we have introduced a bubble in which we dwell. We call it a self or soul. It is a figleaf of our imagination with which we try to cover ourselves.
It has wrenched itself off from the tree of life. It's such a sap.
The bubble soul self constantly wants to dress its wound. It wants stuff to stuff its hole, that aching void it has created.
It wants adventure. It wants entertainment. It wants drama. It wants turmoil. It wants peace but not that much peace thank you.
It wants to possess other self soul bubbles and bind them close, maybe make a bubble raft in this vast and lonely cosmic ocean it has created through its bubbularity.
It wants to stand alone. It wants somebody else to fix things. It wants. It wants. It wants.
Bubble boy and bubble girl. Where's my pin?
Pop! Holy Shit! What a vast openness!
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This is an excellent description of ego. I notice that when I want anything the "wanting" is fueled by ego. The "pin" comes in when I notice that I am wanting and choose to be.
ReplyDeletePop! Holy Shit! What a vast openness!" There's a song in here somewhere - : -) Naima
ReplyDeleteThe bubble -- the choice to believe we are separate from the rest of life -- is what is traditionally referenced as "original sin"; the delusion that we can somehow become more by separation from the greater whole. Ironically, the more this folly fails us the tighter we tend to cling to it. Pop that bubble!
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