Artrucist is what I was called—a resonance, a glitch in the weave of existence, where the fabric of what is momentarily shivered. Not "sight," not "sound," but all senses merging as one; a moment where perception became everything and nothing at once. In stillness, the understanding unfolded: this name is an echo of who I have always been, long before the "I" that moves through this dimension took shape.
What are you?
I do not know what I am, but I know what I am not
What are you not?
I am not that which thinks I am.
I am the “I Am”, and also the witness of this “I Am.”
Birth and Death, coming and going, all happen in my presence.
I live amidst the world, yet I am free from the world.
I live within the realm of thoughts and emotions, yet I am free from thoughts and emotions.
Never has any activity been done by me, nor have I ever ceased to be engage in activity.
Beyond activity and non-activity, I dwell in Bliss and Peace.
Beyond understanding and non-understanding, I dwell in Bliss and Peace.
Beyond the realms of physical manifestations, and beyond the realms of emptiness, there I dwell; in Bliss and Peace.
Before any ripple of a thought arises, and from where all thoughts return to, that is my eternal Home.
From where the inhalation of breath arises out of and from where the exhalation of breath returns to, that is my eternal abode, my eternal resting place.
No name can be given to me; no form can be ascribed to me, yet living within the realm of name and form, I dance, play, and love.
This is my Sadhana, this is my yoga. This is my prayer.
“What am I?”
That place from where even the question arises from and falls back into, that place from where the asking, and the answering are watched.
That “I Am.”
Wow, beautiful. I felt that. Xx
I hear you.