So...
So,
you have taken Nisargadatta's advice - sitting quietly you
find that you are looking inward, right at what you are. I
AM. In a flash you see that you can never understand it. It
is neither inside nor outside. It is ungraspable, and its
ungraspableness shines out everywhere connecting
everything. Its mystery is the fabric of stuff – and it
doesn’t know anything. It just is. The mind reels, trying
to say something about it, compare it or judge it. It makes
no difference. This is Real, all of that is thinking. The
thinking whirls on - so what? Nothing sticks, it never has.
You naturally relax into that and you understand that this
nothingness is the "someone" you took yourself to be all
along. It was all a misunderstanding. It was this shining
easy nothing that made it possible for the “someone” to
think, change and flicker on and off – different every day.
It is the continuity of being, upon which all of mind’s
becoming unfolds.
It feels good – clear, whole and Real. You are it, you see,
but your mind can never grasp it or understand it. It has
no answers for the mind. Just your ordinary presence, that
sense of being here, is what you wanted more than anything.
What happens next is quite inexplicable. The grip of the
story, its promise of reward or punishment, seems vague and
somewhat distant - a whisper. You are this bright point of
nothingness here, not that wobbly picture in the story, you
notice. Everything as it is - is full, immediate and
complete. It is the seeing; the body, the sounds, the
touching and the hearing right here, unmoving. The story
is, well, just a story.
You find that it is looking at the nothingness as yourself
that dissolves the belief in the imaginary “I” axis, around
which the story spins. It permeates through that
spontaneous stream of not-you (thinking, feeling, doing)
and begins to aerate it and illuminate it. The story
becomes less viscous, like heated honey – soft and
malleable. Who knows what will happen in the story when you
stare at your nothingness for long enough? It doesn’t
matter, its not what you are.
You are here, untouched, as you were all along.