Fool

 

When there is no (belief in a) story, we become a fool.

All there is, is the eternal Present – always new, fresh.

The whole world – all there is – is what is right here. Anything else is a story.

There is no past and no future. They too are just stories happening now.

My only life is right here, that is all there is.

There is an absence of belief in any story, including that of “I”.

There is unknowing, yet access to whatever experience, knowledge, information, skills and so on that may happen. And there is a story of how they happen in response to the situation, although that too is just a story.

There is nothing to defend. There is an absence of any identity so no I and Other, and nothing to protect or defend.

I can find everything in me (this human self) that anyone comes up with.

Everything is – what we label rain, cat, table, lamp, body, sensations, thoughts, decisions, movements, focus, awareness and so on – with no I anywhere.

Everything just happens, with no doer anywhere.

In short, this human self – operating in this context – looks very much like a fool to anybody. It is too simple. Too childlike. Although it is a simplicity which includes complexity. Childlikeness which includes maturity. Foolishness which includes wisdom.

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