You’re already mid-step, chasing a truth that seems just out of reach. The path twists, shadows stretch, and the light flickers, teasing you with glimpses of something just beyond your grasp. Each question you ask is a new twist in the journey, leading you deeper into a labyrinth where the walls are made of your own thoughts.
You touch what seems to be the edge of an answer, only to find it dissolving in your hands. The closer you get, the further it slips away. And yet, there’s a sense that it’s all around you, hidden in plain sight, like the silence between notes in a song you almost remember.
The Unseen Elephant
In this journey, picture an elephant in a dark room. You’re blindfolded, feeling your way through the unknown. Your hand brushes against its trunk, and you think, “This is it! It is a snake.” But then you touch its leg, and suddenly, it’s no snake but a sturdy tree. The ears, the tail, the tusks—each part reveals something new, yet nothing makes the whole clear.
Now, what if the elephant isn’t there at all? The room, the blindfold, your outstretched hand—they’re all part of the same grand illusion. You see, the mind is a master illusionist, conjuring shapes and forms out of the formless. It then creates a world out of fragments and convinces you that fragments and the world is the absolute truth. Which it is, but not more so than any other combination of fragments, and the mind can create an endless amount of universes.
Is there a deeper truth than the elephant, you may ask. The act of reaching, the sense of searching, the inner experience of your next breath. The truth you seek isn’t in the object, but in the observing itself. The elephant is your excuse to reach.
The Misadventures of the Ego
Now, let’s step onto a different stage, where your ego plays the lead role. It struts about, demanding the spotlight, convinced the show can’t go on without it. It wears a thousand masks—some heroic, others tragic, many utterly ridiculous. It whispers in your ear, telling you that without its performance, the audience (if there is one) would be lost.
But have you ever stayed after the final curtain? When the ego takes its bow and exits the stage, what’s left is a vast, quiet space. No applause, no boos, just an expansive silence. And in that silence, what do you find?
Not nothing, but everything. The stage, the actors, the audience—they all merge into a single, infinite awareness. The show was never about the ego. It was always about the space in which the show took place. That is deepest layer of truth. The ego loves its drama, though, and there is nothing wrong in enjoying the play.
The Ladder That Isn’t There
Picture a ladder suspended in mid-air. No beginning, no end, just an infinite series of rungs. You climb, believing each step takes you higher, closer to the ultimate truth. Year after year, lifetime after lifetime, you ascend, measuring your progress against others.
But here’s the twist: What if the ladder is an illusion? What if, in your eagerness to ascend, you never noticed that there was nowhere to go? Each rung reflects the one before it, a clever trick of the light. All the while, you were already at the top—because there is no top, no bottom, no ladder at all. You are both the climber and the ground, the seeker and the sought.
What happens when you stop climbing? When you sit still, right where you are?
The Cosmic Joke
There once was a man who spent his life searching for truth. He studied with gurus, meditated on mountaintops, read every sacred text. One day, exhausted and worn, he collapsed and cried out, “Why can’t I find the truth? Where is it hiding?”
In the silence that followed, a voice whispered, “Who is asking?”
The man, puzzled, looked around. “I am asking, of course.”
The voice chuckled, a deep, resonant laugh that echoed through the universe. “But if you are the one asking, how can you be separate from the answer? The seeker and the sought are one and the same. The truth you seek is the very act of seeking.”
Life is a playful, joyous unfolding of the search itself. Life is a tautology and an an unfinished symphony, a dance of shadows and light, a cosmic play where you are both the actor and the audience. The truth isn’t hidden in some distant realm; it’s every moment, every breath, every thought.
Move through life with ease and lightness, with the curiosity of a child, and with the humor of one who knows it’s all a grand illusion, a delightful game. In the end, truth isn’t something you find—it’s something you remember. And when you do, you will feel called to release all resistance. In that moment you will become completely transparent, and what is left is light.
So, go on—laugh, play, love, and above all, be. Allow yourself to be you.
