Hope you enjoy this excerpt from a recent satsang.
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"The idea that you are a person
moving into peace,
moving into consciousness
from my perspective is false.

The essence of everything;
the essence of what you are
is the most exquisite peace.
Blissful, silence, unconditional love
pure consciousness.

And out of this consciousness
out of this peace,
comes the body, comes thoughts
comes emotion, comes sensation,
comes experience.

These are all made of the essence:
made of peace.

But when attention contracts,
grabs holds of this body, these thoughts
and says "this is me,"
then it is creating an experience
of separateness.

It is apparently separating itself
from its essence.

Creation is born out of this peace.
The play of life is this.

So if you become involved with things,
you experience things, you enjoy things
you suffer things
and if your experience is
that is solely what you are;
you are this person,
you are a person separate
from the essence,
then there is a constant unhappiness,
a constant feeling of separateness,
of conflict; of things not being 'right."

But if you can recognize this peace
that is the essence of everything,
perhaps to understand intellectually at first
but far more important to eventually feel it.

To feel yourself as this peace
moving the physicality,
moving the thoughts, moving the emotions
moving the sensations,
moving the sensory experience,
that it is all peace,

then you never feel that
inward unhappiness.

You will still feel outward unhappiness.
You'll still go through all the range of emotions
but probably much less than before.

But every emotion,
every thought will be infused with this peace.
Because that is the nature of the thought,
that is the nature of all thoughts: it's peace.
It is what it is made out of.

You know if you read Dostoyevsky,
you read the Dhammapada,
or if you read Snoopy comics,
they're all made of the same ink.

From the perspective of the ink,
it's all the same.
But it's the mind's interpretation
that makes them different.
That places importance
on whether it is Snoopy, Dostoyevsky
or the Buddha.

But ink is just ink.

Consciousness always recognizes itself
to be consciousness to be infinite peace.

Much love,


Kip"

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