WE ARE NOT, YET WE ARE

WE ARE NOT, YET WE ARE

This ocean of consciousness there is and we are but waves rising and falling, each one of us at the base being the ocean itself even as we in oblivion feel separated sorrow and bliss. There is no birth, no death, save what we in ignorance choose to thrust on our fictitious beautiful selves, suffering as we trudge on through the vale of tears unto the sunlit summit of our spiritual Self, unto the bosom of fathomless bliss that is ever enfolding us. Let us not fear. Let us not worry. Let us move on, enjoying the passing scenes of this panoramic existence unto the divine destination that awaits us. The ocean holds us in her bosom and the ocean we are. Why fear? There is no death for us, for there is no birth for us as well save in our own fertile imagination. We are the infinite life that sustains all its perishable dreams. We are caught within its web but we are the dreamer, not quite the dream, and, higher still, we are neither the dream nor the dreamer, we are the substance that fruitless lies in self-existent glory. We are not, yet we are.

Written by Sugata Bose