NOEMAYA

I ask, “What is truly there?” It says, “Don’t speak of me.” 

From chaos springs the seeking of calm. From hunger, the seeking of food. Out of ignorance, the seeking of enlightenment. The swing runs after its opposite, but the closer it gets the less it is impressed, the more they look alike.  

Things meet halfway, thirst after water and water after thirst. Neither chaos nor perfect calm, neither ignorance nor enlightenment, is the goal but rather all that happens in between, where the boy and the image coincide in the mirror.  

The seeker of truth will realize that his seeking was unnecessary and the truth an empty idea. 

To strive after something, one must first notice it as a thing to strive after, one must believe in distinctions. 

One who resists against the hands of a clock will be cut in half, and the two halves will forever be seeking and passing each other without recognition. 

True seeking must culminate at the futility of seeking, for in complete disarmament all that appeared as the other will cease to be; forms will cease to claim the Being that always belonged to the heart. 

And all this too is another misleading fragment; the fool side of the wise will fall into the trap of anticipation, a something to be done, another reading, another meditation, another transcendent thought, a change of states, etc.. As if true things depend on anything other than themselves; as if there were any conditions of realization; as if realization was an event. 

But nothing needs to be done and nothing needs to change; to desire to change one’s state of consciousness is to have misunderstood it all; that place has no place; that is not a state among other states; there are no words for it, for no one has ever spoken it. There’s no path to it; there is no one that knows it and no one that doesn’t know it. 

Resistance and contraction are the principles of appearance. When not even a muscle twitches, things are realized to be here rather than out there.