The Present

For most people the unknown is terrifiying. After the past week, I have discovered that sometimes the 'known' is even more so.


When nobody knows you, it is like you are a blank canvas. You don't feel that you have to act a certain way, talk a certain way, be a certain person because nobody knows you. And the most beautiful thing you discover, is that you don't know yourself.

So you can be who you want to be.

When returning, you don't have that pleasure. You have already been typecast. You revert back to the old self. Everything that went between seems like nothing more than a dream, an illusion.

And it is an illusion. But so is this. When we go to the cinema we are aware that we are watching a movie, but for the movie to be effective, we need to get lost in it. We need to believe that it is real. We identify with the protagonist, we have to for the illusion to work, for the movie to become real. But at times we realise we are not in the movie. We are in a darkened theatre, watching.

The protagonist of the movie is the person that we see as 'ourself', our Ego. The person we think we are, the person that we create in our daily lives. But what exists behind that person? If we sit still, shut down the endless chattering in our head, what are we? We are awareness, watching a set of experiences, that we call 'reality'. Awareness is everlasting. Our bodies change, our friends change, our thoughts change, we change. But awareness doesn't. Awareness lasts forever.

When we are asleep, and we dream, we think that the person in the dream is us. We feel fear, we feel happiness, but in the end, we wake up. We are therefore both the person dreaming and the person being dreamed. 'Real' life is exactly the same. We are the person dreaming (our awareness) and the person being dreamed (the 'self)

When we realise that all is illusion, we do not give up on life. Quite the opposite. We make this dream, the best dream it can possibly be. Because it is all there is.

Years ago I dreamt of going to Australia. I dreamt that dream into a reality. Now that it is over, I'm not going to stop. I always dreamt of living in Brighton. Now I am dreaming that dream also into a reality. In a few days I will be living there. Not that happiness exists in travelling, or in living somewhere else. Happiness exists in only place it can. The present. Wherever that may be taking place.

This world is nothing but an illusion. So why don't we make it the best illusion it can possibly be? We exist in the eternal, never-ending present. So why do so few of us rip off the wrapping paper and see what is underneath?

Go on, rip off the paper. I dare you.