Memories of the Universal Dot

It is a far time now from where I was then. Where I was when reality seemed to slip through my fingers and cascade into the turquoise water flowing through the valleys of Rishikesh. Far from where Mother Ganga cupped me in gentle palms each morning so that with each exhalation I remembered that I knew nothing and that all was now in this eternal flowful grace.

Back in the city I suffer the amnesia I knew would come. The amnesia of pace and caffeine; of moving objects and tandem words spoken quickly between held breaths to ears that had little time to listen. I cloud presence with thought and stare at the sky observing the traces of my own memory rather than the endless expanse. But as I observe those around me, frozen in the momentary clarity of pure perspective, divorced from any sense of identity, I remember the truth:

We are all just a reflection of ourselves, mirroring each other through time and space, to meet again and again, through portals of age and karmic bonds. Our fears guide us towards liberation. Do not run from them. Resolve in yourself that you may see the shadow and gaze through the tunnel that binds us all. Feel time elapse and dissolve as you gaze into the eyes of another and see, finally, that your fear resides in your resistance. That it is only you who looks back. That we are all one.

In La Kesh.

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