Patricia

There is Life, the totality, and then there is the six and a half billion ring circus of human life. The circus likes to pretend that it, itself, is life thus making Life, the mystery, preactically disappear from sight. It is because we cannot see ourselves as indistinguishable and fleeting breaths of Life, that we spend our miniscule petty lives struggling with ourselves and fighting with each other all in mad pursuit of an extremely elusive wordly happiness or an entirely delusional otherworldly salvation neither of which have anything to do with Life.

Feeling isolated and therefore vulnerable we, actors and spectators in this common circus, insistently generate fear in the exercise of ambition; ambition that when frustrated turns into hatred and violence leading to further fear and further ambition.

There is no way to leave the circus and its tragic comedy because its over-arching, all-encompassing, presence is but an out-picturing of our own psyches with their multiple cultural and personal memories and the many contradictory and conflictive ways in which human memory projects itself into the future. No plan or project for social progress, therapy or redemptive reincarnation of any kind represents then a way out of the circus and into the plenitude of Life. There is no path or entrance to Life from our side of things, because the mystery admits no duality. Being indivisible, it does not hold within separate entities of any type. Our sense of mental and even physical separation is an illusion, and this illusion needs to die for Life to manifest. There is four names for this illusion: You, Me, Them and Us.