The illusion of the individual

Yes that is all it is an illusion
a game of the mind
Self-convinced ideas
floating in self-belief
like bubbles saying look at me
I'm individual, I'm original.
Not saying it is entirely untrue,
but what we are talking about
is the temporal you.
So what is the big deal?
Yes there appears to be a me
and a breathing you.
Nothing new there.
Just billions of points of view.
Is it really so important?
This narcissistic point of view.
Are we anymore
then the flowers that bloom?
I won't dictate,
cause I know
it really all up to you

But what if there is only one of us. We are all just separate entities with amnesia that were split off of the one. Once our time ends, we will return to the one.

That is my greatest fear, that there is only one of us. Endless time with no entropy to entertain. Just a continuous, unchanging oneness. That is why we created this reality simply to experience the company of another, even though it is really us in disguise.

My greatest fear and I hope to all eternity that I am wrong. I hope there are an innumerable number of us souls with unique and individual minds all to our self with no need to share.

From the ideals of oneness I will celebrate my individuality to the max and savor my selfishness because the other option will be worse, much much worse.

a reply to: ancientthunder

I don’t know how you can explain the lack of individuality in a world full of 7 billion people. Everyone seems to act as though they are not you. I certainly don’t think I am you and I don’t think you were me I think every one of us is actually an individual. I don’t see why anyone would want to take that away. I’m sure you would not like your individuality taken from you.

Pretty words are just that. They only carry actual weight when they make sense when compared to the rest of the world.

originally posted by: ancientthunder
Yes that is all it is an illusion

Is that an assertion or an unverifiable claimed belief?

originally posted by: Woodcarver
a reply to: ancientthunder

I don’t know how you can explain the lack of individuality in a world full of 7 billion people. Everyone seems to act as though they are not you. I certainly don’t think I am you and I don’t think you were me I think every one of us is actually an individual. I don’t see why anyone would want to take that away. I’m sure you would not like your individuality taken from you.

Pretty words are just that. They only carry actual weight when they make sense when compared to the rest of the world.

We can retain our individuality, in fact it's pretty much impossible not to be an individual, but I think we need to see that we are all one, one species on one planet and that we're all in this together, like family. That's not pretty words, that's how we really need to see our predicament on earth. Like family, we are all one family. That might stop us from killing each other and hurting each other and stealing from each other and raping each other. We are all one.

a reply to: amazing

But we are not all one. So maybe you should think about another way of preventing people harming each other. Because treating everybody The exact same doesn’t make any sense. People are different. People need to be treated differently.

originally posted by: Woodcarver
a reply to: amazing

But we are not all one. So maybe you should think about another way of preventing people harming each other. Because treating everybody The exact same doesn’t make any sense. People are different. People need to be treated differently.

You're taking it too literally. Think of it as one family. You wouldn't steal from your family, or hurt your family or murder your family. Yes, I know that there will always be a small subset of humans that are so mentally unstable as to actually do that but...in most cases it would stop. You wouldn't declare war and murder hundreds of thousands if it was against your family. Thank of it that way.

a reply to: ancientthunder

Look at all those individual bubbles! Of course, their individuality is temporary. They all rest on the same source, and sooner or later they will all *pop* and return to that source.

Until then, play is the name of the divine game

Forgetting the illusion of the multitude things still don't add up just multiples and multitudes of grasping. The eye stained with consciousness grasps illusion, the ear stained with contact forms sound, and the mind stained with both knows little of the either and neither.

As soon as one opens a mouth it is fed with void the issue comes and goes at both ends the nose knows no no's even though it appears... the tongue has had enough wagging when tails come to an end.

Oh sensation that can't be pinned down is and opined, penned and whined...

In some worlds sound is light; and in some it is the darkness of the world into and out of the void with each blink; that cannot see it's own reflection without a mirror as spotless as they may be it reflects the same in utter silence without mutter or nuzzle as a flash blinds instead of brightens.

The blight on this world is ignorance tempered and greedy... those that roll over in their graves are simply tilling the soil for tomorrows harvest as the moon knows no other tale to sing in the twilight.

Distant roar and distant thunder speaks of ashes and coals around a pit of any old camp... ancient or not it still glows as a stick pokes the dead whos belly roars; old tires snaking distant and lines all tangled the web weaves itself in silence out of the backs of those unchained and yet still ensnared... husks and shells of the past blow distant on the tides of change; the moment omnipresent and the past toil comes tomorrow with a sun set on boil.

Any old hoo knows how wise when it is a chip and not a cracker the parrot covers it's face knowing the flower from which the seeds fall the shells go to old Sally to which no mathematician cares.

Pardon my French as I hold the door without a tongue dragging out the carpet, as the fire spits on an old rug that some friar cannot tuck away. Under some old skull a cap was one a cup but bowl, once cleaned it is put away and once flipped a coin cannot wash away. On edge straight as a razor the season sits in food as a palette burst full bloom on a canvas awash in pink tickled with pleasure until the breath turns up dragon...

no marshmellows were harmed in the making of this pillow. As that tree rests it's own boughs against the bows. Aimed skyward for rain at both ends drain no matter the point it comes out plain...

Oh the headache weeps the willows as she is scraped away...

Thanks for sitting at one end for a poke and casual spin... as the yarn threads on an old spindle, directly from a heart of gold the turkey hits the grass as buckwheat chews a straw.

Soba cowa bunga dude!

We are particulars, objects, and individuals, based on the simple fact that neither of us occupy the same space at the same time.

a reply to: LesMisanthrope


Zoot allures mon frere!!!

In that instant called conception; two become one... and a new star is born into a world, sitting in a void to brine, until full of enough piss and vigor; with enough strength to crawl out of the cave once again?

How is thought any different... a bunch of old moons gathering and reflecting the same old dust sleeping tight in past reflections and wiping away the crust for yet another's day, glowing in the same brilliance of both and all; no matter the phases upon our lips.

Savior faire mon ami!

a reply to: BEBOG

I don’t know what you said but I like it.

Just imagine, a shoe box with the lid pierced by a knitting needle. Each hole with its own particular angle and slightly different shape. The golden light from above pours inside creating the appearance of individual beams, each one unique. One beam of light says to another "but I am much brighter than poor Lucius in the corner".
Randomly one day, the wind pulls the lid of the shoe box. Everything changes, nothing dies only each beam loses its current disguise. a reply to: LesMisanthrope

Individuality is a double edge sword, it can cut threw friend or foe, it only when one slices a friend thinking it was foe can it truly mean harm to others.

As for one's well being, that sword might as well be used to rip out ones own heart to ether give or to be thrown away.

a reply to: ancientthunder

Very nice Ancient Thunder!

S+F

a reply to: ancientthunder


Thats a lot of solar eclipses to view at one time...



As for compound eyes; insects/metatron/avalokiteshvara has that covered; so do those with multiple points of view but only one personality as expression.

Life being art in that we all produce and create and destroy as waste; even when just eating and planting, while sowing the manure of experience.

Never mind the fingers when they form a 10,000 foot pole and a hand races to the top for a mind still moving.



Happy Caturday everyone!

a reply to: ClovenSky

Why does it scare you? It never has been feared, as a matter of fact, it's embraced, in far Eastern cultures. Seems to me your fear of oneness, or the lack of individuality is a by product of Western culture.

Oness is the ultimate base of everything and out of that appears a multitude of appearances that can be experienced.a reply to: SpeakerofTruth

How about looking at it this way,you have one body. When us humans see a body or a person walking down the road, we say
"look at that individual over there"
but the body is comprised of" 5 billion to 200 million trillion cells" Each individual cell may or not know its an individual cell. So the way I currently see it with that example we have a unit and many units in one.

a reply to: Woodcarver

originally posted by: LesMisanthrope
We are particulars, objects, and individuals, based on the simple fact that neither of us occupy the same space at the same time.

Does 'your body' ever appear on it's own? When the light comes on when waking occurs, doesn't the whole scene appear at once?
The assumption is that you are just a particular of the entire scene.

What you are actually is beyond words, but it would be not untrue to say you are nothing whatsoever other than pure, infinite, disembodied consciousness/intelligence; a field of miraculous infinite light; God dreaming itself; an infinite point of pure potential; or the infinite implications of nothing whatsoever.

The immediate presentation of this unspeakable actuality is the field of your experience, which is an instantaneously appearing virtual field of Radiant Presence as apparent qualities. This is the actuality of which every/ and any/ thing that you think exists consists. This is inclusive and complete; nothing whatever other than this field exists. In short, the entirety of Reality is the "bubble" of YOUR experience, the field of Radiant Presence, which alone exists.

This is the totality of Reality. This is not theoretical, but is actually, immediately real; always the case right here right now.

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