Awakening

I sometimes see myself as invisible – pure consciousness. I like how this feels: liberating, free, as if I’m the wind.

It’s so much easier to feel connected, when there’s no body to have to connect to. The body I see suddenly is just a vehicle, going on by itself, a made-up projection of my thoughts. I set this viewpoint in my mind.

Where I am is more open, since there’s no skin and bones to show where I end, or think I end.

I don’t have to project an image wherever I go, or talk. I’m just sort of the watcher, the observer. I like this feeling.

I close my eyes and open my mind to a scene.

It is simple. The same person always appears. The person is near a tree. The person is dressed in a robe, standing. It could be Jesus, Buddha, or some master. But I like to think of the person as my higher self, the part of me that is still on the other side, and has access to great wisdom.

I’ll call the person “the master.”

I don’t speak. The master doesn’t speak. Yet I know the master knows what I need, and always gives me what I need. Something really happens. It isn’t pretend. It only takes 20 seconds.

Artwork by Bruce Zboray    www.bruce-zboray.artistwebsites.com


When I hear of people in need, whether family, friends, or someplace in the world, I imagine holding my hands open, palms facing away, with light, illumination pouring out.

Every cell of my body is generating this light, from within my trillions of molecules of DNA.

I offer illumination energy to whoever, whatever, wherever needs to use it in any way they want.

I really enjoy the sense of mystery.

Perhaps it’s the urge to look behind the veil – you know, to understand the essence of what we perceive with our senses – to use the sixth sense, intuition.

I open to the Greater Mind.

I’ve been told there is a place like this.
As the discoverer that I am,
I discover that it is really there.

Let me explore new ideas, beyond what I have ever known.
Let the ocean of my consciousness multiply over and over again.
I am ready for greater thoughts.

Just for a while, I drop my old beliefs.
I invite new ideas, wildly creative, to surprise me.
Let me grasp the greatness of what is out there.

I see light in me.

I see my cells glowing.
I see a spark in every cell.
I light the candle inside of me.
I will it so, strongly.

It is my thought that I am a piece of God.
A piece of the Creation, if you prefer.
I sense a calm come over me.

Every cell knows each other, like drops in the ocean, and stars in the sky.
Each of my trillions of cells hear me when I speak, when I think.
They are always listening.

I talk to plants. I mean, I don’t do this every day, but I have talked with some plants. I read how to do this in a book, The Secret Teachings of Plants, and I decided to try it myself.

I move my awareness to the middle of my chest. It’s usually in the middle of my head. I see it like a ball of white light moving from my head to my heart. I close my eyes, and tell the plant, “I want to speak with you and learn from you.” It also helps if I imagine myself filling the plant – into its leaves, into its branches, into its trunk, into its roots.

Imagine that you are a little bit bigger than your body.
Realize that your skin doesn’t really hold you in.
It only seems like it does.

You’ve expanded a foot in all directions around your body.
You feel good. Really good.

Now, expand to fill the room.
You pass through the chairs, tables, plants, easily.
Sense yourself everywhere in the room at once.
It feels amazingly natural, doesn’t it?
Everywhere you look in the room, you are there too.

Just as an ace of spade trumps the king of spades, knowing trumps knowledge.

An intelligent person does not care much about information and knowledge. An intelligent person cares much more for the capacity to know.

His or her interest is in knowing, not just knowledge. Knowing gives you understanding, where knowledge gives one a feeling of understanding, without giving you real understanding.

Every day you get up and you head to work. You drive the same way. You take the same roads, the same highways, you make the same turns. But perhaps you commute via train or subway. Five days a week, for the last five years, and it’ll be going on for the next ten years.