You are so eager to turn the next page of your life, either to turn the next page or hold on tight to life as it is right now. Life seems like so many opposites, like holding on or letting go, like seen or foreseen or unseen, believed or unbelieved. Yet even when life is held onto tightly and believed, there seems to be an undercurrent of disbelief. How on Earth can this mixed-up life possibly be true, really true? It happened, and yet it could not have happened. Who could make up life as it exists, yet how can it be true? Regardless of life’s earthiness, you know life is fleeting and gone before it started. Certainly life is made up. Life is the stuff stories are made of. What else can life be then but real-life fiction?
Life is mighty, and life is absurd. It is stranger than fiction, yet fiction nevertheless.
Life on Earth is acting out, as if you can’t help yourself. You take on a part, and you can’t let go of it. You accept a fictitious name and call it true. You bear a different name from the one given to you on Earth. You know you are more than the identity given to you on Earth. Now you are beginning to identify yourself. You have a Greater Identity, and, as it were, no identity at all, no identity, no mask, no charade. You who are Vastness are more than you ever dreamed and yet no more nor less than you thought.
Expand your thinking, and you are expanded. Your extant life is your thinking. Your life is not what happens. It is your perception. That’s what it means to say that life on Earth is relative. It is as it seems to be to you. You may see, perhaps, a small portion. You have a great fortune, and you see the small change. There is much more than what the eye sees. You have been judging the book of your life according to its cover. Beyond the painting on your cover lies the bare canvas it is painted on.
It is almost certain that you read your own life mistakenly. You have mis-entitled yourself. You have called your life The Adventures I Have Been On. Your book is more truthfully called: Beingness. On varying levels, you could also call your life The Great Beyond, The More Than I Can Say, Made-up Ideas of Life, What Lies Beyond, What Never Was Yet Seemed to Be. The Road Traveled, The Road Less Traveled, The Seeking of the Sought, Lost and Found in a Land of the Blind, The Found in the Land of the Seeing, The Tempest in the Teapot, I Had a Dream One Night, I Dreamed of Day and Night, I Turned On and Turned Off the Stars, I Rode a Comet through the Sky, I Hitched My Wagon to a Star, There Is an Ocean and Yet the Waves Tell Not the Whole Story, The Unvarnished Truth, Behold Glimpses of the Truth, Night Rider, Day Trader, Playing My Old Banjo, Giddyap Little Pony, Over the Rainbow, Beyond the Horizon. What Cannot Your Life Be Named, and Why Stop There, An Unending Tale of Strife and L ife, No Finish Line, Mountains Climbed and Unclimbed, The Climate of Change, the Discovery of Self and Non-Self, Beyond the Far Horizons, The Fathomed Fathomless Ocean, The Tour de Force, The Land of the Living, Life Is But a Dream, Undreamed of Life, Life Emblazoned Across the Sky, Tripping Over Life, Riding the Waves, Riding the Air Waves, Surfing, A Sketch of Life, An Oft-Heard Tale, If Truth Be Told, If Lie Be Believed, As If Anything Is As It Seems, As If I Know Nothing, As If I Think I Know Everything, As If I Could Go On and On, An Arrow Shot from God’s Heart, A Splinter in My Eye, The Beginning, There Is No End, There Is Everything and Nothing Wrapped into One, Life Is Not an Open and Closed Case, I Wish Upon a Star, I Stand Up, and I Stand Down, I Forget, I Remember, Life Is Unstoppable, and so on.