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Tuesday, December 10, 2002

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  • Michael Read
    Non Duality Highlights Tuesday, December 10, 2002 issue #1284 editor - michael Nisargadatta list From: minok The Mystery of Awareness I remember the moment
    Message 1 of 1 , Dec 12, 2002
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      Non Duality Highlights

      Tuesday, December 10, 2002

      issue #1284

      editor - michael


      Nisargadatta list

      From: minok

      The Mystery of Awareness

      I remember the moment clearly. I had

      escaped from my sisters, over therocks and around the point. I was barely seven.

      Above me, a rough

      escarpment of boulders singing in the midday heat, at

      my feet a rock pool of perfect,

      inviolable stillness, and beyond, the

      blue vastness of the South Pacific.

      There was no other living creature. I

      was by myself, barefooted, between the

      cliff and the ocean.

      As I squatted there, watching the

      reflection of the wind in the unrippled

      pool, hearing its exhilaration high

      above me in the bright emptiness of the

      sky, I became aware for the first time

      of awareness itself.

      I had no name for it, but I could almost

      feel it, as if it had substance, like

      the water in the rock pool, or breath,

      like the shouting wind. I saw that I

      was entirely by myself in a boundless

      ocean of awareness.

      In the same instant I understood that awareness is the single mystery

      of life, that it enfolds all other mysteries,

      even the secret of the separate self.

      From that moment I was indelibly

      astonished, and I knew that all my life

      I would be pinching myself and asking,

      What is awareness? Nothing else would

      ever command my attention so completely.

      How could it? For nothing else mattered

      next to the constant pressure, the

      single compulsion of this mystery.

      A quarter of a century went by, and one

      day my teacher placed in my hands a

      copy of Mukerjee's edition of the

      Ashtavakra Gita. I had by then, in the ordinary course of my seeking,

      read a great deal of scripture, enough to know

      the truth of Ashtavakra's admonition,

      halfway through his own Song:

      My child, you can talk about holy books

      all you like. But until you forget everything, you will never find


      Understanding the vanity of scripture,

      I hardly expected Ashtavakra to solve

      in a single epiphany the mystery of awareness.

      And yet, as I read his spare and simple

      verses, I felt that here at last were

      words which in some measure consumed my astonishment. They spoke so

      directly, and so modestly. They

      seemed so austere, and yet so generous.

      I found myself once more a child of

      seven, tipped between the sea and the

      sky, but hearing now in the wind's

      exuberance a clearer music, touching

      the heart of the mystery.

      What is the rising or the vanishing of thought?

      What is the visible world, or the

      invisible? What is the little soul, or

      God Himself?

      Awareness. Pure awareness. The clear

      space, the sky, the heart of awareness.


      from Translator's Introduction of The

      Ashtavakra Gita a dialogue b/w King

      Janaka, the father of Sita and his guru Ashtavakra

      by Thomas Byrom



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