I can’t see you for who I think you are if not for the function of perception running in the mind. My perception projects exactly how I see you. How can it be otherwise? Whatever projection I have about you is entirely a perception running in me. This perception is derived from whatever accumulated ideas I have about the world. As I do not have the clarity to filter or to question ideas that come through me, I literally buy into what I perceive each moment without much wisdom. What I think is right is in accordance to my old ideas and what I think is wrong too, is in accordance to my old ideas. There is nothing new to what I am receiving except strengthening what is already in me. The more I am unconscious to those ideas the more I allow those ideas become my beliefs, making it my reality, as my righteousness. Do I not see this?
Do I not see how I perceive you is from what is within me? Do I not know what I judge or praise of you has nothing less than what is within me? Do I not see the world I put meaning to come from within? And that the world is only an effect of the cause beginning from me? I am not separated from the world as the world of ideas I have in me is being defined and retold again and again in my own stories about the world out there.
Each moment of experience, from anything as mundane to anything extraordinary, is accompanied with my own ideas, each unique of its own. It never and will never leave me as I have never questioned or inquired about them before. As such, every moment of experience is a matter of fact, a story unfolding, which at its end becomes a complete drama of its own. Where it ends, another story begins; like the soap opera series that run for seasons, sometimes for years, in the tube. In those dramas I see the storyline in linear experience, usually a plot at one time. Whereas in my own inner story the plot thickens in each moment, many a times having multiple dimensional schemes or conspiracies in it, hence making the stories in me more juicy, complicated and very real. To each person I share about my story I skilfully tailor it to their needs and temperament, making sure that they are convinced by my manipulative skill. Rarely do I failed in the mission, except in moments where I exaggerate to convince those who are not convinced, and if that fails, I’d label them as enemy against me. For all I want from them is to reinforce what I think is true as a reality so that I can be loftier than anyone else. Do I not see this?
When I see others telling me their stories, I am not seeing my own stories about them. When I judged others about their complaints, I am not aware of my complaint about them. What difference am I from them, they from me? If I am not authentic with myself with regards to what is running in the mind, I would have continuously setup an unseen new trap, a righteous one, that is more detrimental to what I see about the world which I think has nothing to do with me; for what comes into my space becomes mine, irrespective whether I keep silent, move away or comment.
I have never left you for ‘you’ is an idea that I am creating in me. Neither have I left the world as the world is the source of my ideas. Nothing more than just a tiny mad idea of each moment turned into a dream (or a nightmare!)