Each self is a vessel only. Like the channel of a river, I am not the river itself. I am not life, but the course through which life flows. This fact seems tragic. For it points to impermanence and meaninglessness and death. And I strive for a hundred forms of immortality to defend against it, to block out my awareness that this permanent impermanence is my ultimate fate. They arise in form always – these false selves – all consigned to dissolution and void.
And yet, if I am, then I can only be that which is real. I cannot be what isn’t real. If what is real is eternal, then I must be eternal. When the individual identity to which I cling is surrendered, I aware myself of the fact that what I am is what flows through the river. So, my dilemma isn’t whether I am eternal or finite. My problem is simply that I confuse my small self with my big Self. I believe that my identity is inextricably associated with my body, my ego, my individual name. I create a false distinction between the inner and the outer, and I call ‘myself’ that which lies inside the false boundary of my skin. I make a distinction between the intangible versus the material, and call ‘myself’ the material. Yet I am water, not the channel through which water flows. I mistake my temporary aspect for my permanent one. I assume my apparent nature is the one with which I’m truly identified.
Yet my apparent nature – my body, my personality, my history, the face I show the world – is my illusory self, the old clothes with which I dress up my divine Self. I confuse my transitory, individual facet with my infinite, collective aspect. And the very idea of aspect shows I’m already confused about who I really am. There are no aspects, but only one Self. I identify with my personal self instead of with my impersonal Self. Love is singularly uninterested in its individual perpetuation, knowing that it’s not in danger of being snuffed out.
Intent on establishing its individual existence apart from anything else, the little self seems only interested in proofs. It seems to say to the Self: “Prove Yourself. Prove You are, and if You can’t, then You aren’t. If You can’t show Yourself, then You’re not even a you. You’re a not.”
Thinking that it has disproved the existence of the Self, the small self only feels more frightened, more certain than ever of its own impermanence. What the separated self has missed is the most obvious point: Awareness is self-authenticating. It is aware of itself. Once I accept this fact, all striving for meaning ceases. All desire to perpetuate artificial versions of immortality is surrendered. The infinite doesn’t need any falsehood to prop itself up, as our egos do. The truth alone is the antidote to a fear that never was.
© 2022 by Michael C. Just
Mike’s novel, The Dirt: The Journey of a Mystic Cowboy, is available in softcover or eBook formats through Amazon.
You can purchase the book through this website. Or go straight to amazon at https://www.amazon.com/s?k=the+dirt+journey+of+a+mystic+cowboy&crid=1S40Q4BXSUWJ6&sprefix=the+dirt%3A+journey+of+a+m%2Caps%2C180&ref=nb_sb_ss_i_1_23
Mike’s other titles, including The Crippy, The Mind Altar, and Canyon Calls, are available through this website or through Amazon at https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B002
Four of his short stories have recently been published online:
Lies, Ltd. has been published by The Mystery Tribune @ Lies, Ltd.: Literary Short Fiction by Michael C. Just (mysterytribune.com)
The Obligate Carnivore has been published by the Scarlet Leaf Review @ Category: MICHAEL JUST – SCARLET LEAF REVIEW
I See You, Too has been published by the 96th of October @ I See You, Too – 96th of October
Offload, a short story about a man who can heal any disease, is now live and can be read at The Worlds Within at Offload – The Worlds Within