Drunk in Illusions

I stood in the world and found them all drunk, and I did not find any of them thirsty. They came into the world empty, and they seek to leave the world empty. But meanwhile they are drunk. When they shake off their wine, they will open their eyes.
– Yeshua

In my day to day living, or more precisely, moment to moment relationship, I observed a particular distinct pattern the mind has that I am inclined to – almost predictable. Things that I like, and things that I don’t like. Things that I consistently do to attract attention, and things that I do to avoid discomfort. Things that I dare to pursue and things that I have yet to overcome. Things that I deceive others, and things that I try impressing others. Things that I yearn and things that I abhor. I lived like a predictable magnet, attract and distract from the poles of experiences. So predictable are the experiences that I become master of it, so I thought. Or have the experiences mastered itself so much so that I am simply led by it? Like the simile of the owner and his dog –  who is leading who? Where I am coming from makes a difference.

All these are happening in my mind – like a shadow following me – so familiar and trapped! Many a times I caught clear glimpses of deception, betrayal and conspiracy going on – not on someone “out there”, sad to say (no pun intended) – but over and over again, towards myself. When I am not aware of these stuff, the end result is always about someone “outside” there who caused me all the pain, discomfort and upsets. This is insanity of the highest order – expecting someone to take responsibility of my own madness which I am oblivious to. This reminded me back of the statement made by the same spirit – you are not upset for the reason you think it is.

It is a mystery to recognize that these are the things I have been living with, moment after moment, day after day, year after year, and probably life after life, if it does mean anything. Until I bear witness to all this experiences I am like a drunkard, living a life of mediocre, or can I truly call that life? I lived, led astray by these conditioning, never having the thirst to inquire deeper its meaning.

Who am I? What am I? How did I landed myself in these patterns? Why? These are the probing questions that invoke each and everyone of us towards the discovery to the mystery of oneself. And yet, this journey can be forest of roses, or, thorns.  It can be another journey of drunkardness, if what I seek comes from blind beliefs rather than wise inquiries.

When they shake off their wine, they will open their eyes.

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