When you opened your eyes on the world
For the first time as a child
How brilliant the colors were; what a jewel the sun was
What marvel the stars; how incredibly alive
The trees were
And to love again and again
And have people to whom we are deeply attached
Go to sleep and never wake up
And the laughter echoes only in one's mind
But then the echo goes
The memory, the traces are all gone

All your efforts, all your acheivements
All your attainments turning into dust, nothingness
What is the feeling? what happens to you?

The idea of god as the potter
The architect of the universe
It makes you feel that life is, after all
Important, that there is someone who cares
It has meaning, it has sense
And you are valuable in the eyes of the father
But after a while it got embarrassing
The superstition, the myth
The absolutely unfounded idea
Why does anybody believe that?

So you become an atheist
And then you feel terrible after that
Because you got rid of god
But that means you got rid of yourself
You're just nothing but a machine
And your idea that you're a machine
Is just a machine too... (a machine in the system)

So if you think that that's the way things are
You feel hostile to the world
You feel that the world is a neurological trap
Into which you somehow got caught... trapped
You run from the maternity ward
To the crematorium and that's it... that's it
So if you're a smart kid you commit suicide

Now I want to propose another idea all together
The real you, is not a puppet which life pushes around
The real you, the real deep down you
Is the whole universe
You cannot confine yourself
To what happens inside the skin
Your skin doesn't separate you from the world
It's a bridge
But just as a magnet polarizes
Its-self in north and south but its all one magnet
So experience polarizes itself as "self" and "other"
But it's all one

What you call the "external world"
Is as much you as your own body
Most people think that when they open
They're eyes and look around
That what they are seeing is outside
It seems, doesn't it, that you are behind your eyes
We haven't realized that life and death
Black and white, good and evil, being and non-being
Come from the same center

When you look for your own particularized center
Of being which is separate from everything else
You wont be able to find it
The only way you'll know it isn't there is
If you look hard enough, to find out that it isn't there
It isn't there at all, there isn't a separate you
There are, in physical reality, no such things
As separate events

People can't be talked out of illusions
If a person believes that the earth is flat
You can't talk him out of that, he knows that it's flat
He'll go down to the window and see that its obvious
It looks flat
So the only way to convince him that it isn't is to say
"well let's go and find the edge"

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