Instant Awakening

2024, September, Issue 115

Instantly bright, beyond

Beyond time, beyond this illusion,

Beyond this knucklehead

We call

Self.

A poem by Robert Aho © 2024

I sat in contemplation under a nearly-clear blue sky, deeply considering what I should do next, and water droplets started to splatter upon me.  I thought, “Oh, this tree is spitting at me.  Even the forest has contempt for my efforts.”

That is how I feel most days, even though I plod along giving talks, writing essays or poetry, mentioning that I have a book in the works.  I don’t receive any reward for my efforts.  It’s just something that I have vowed to do while I was coming out of that amazing light, while still not sure of who I had ever been.  It wasn’t really a self that had made this vow, especially if I had no notion of ever being a self.  I couldn’t remember my old life for quite some time actually.

I made this vow, nonetheless.  It is a sacred samaya.  I have vowed to help all beings with the knowledge and experience that I have acquired.  It doesn’t seem like people are very eager to hear about it, at least not in general.  I have a couple hundred followers online with my newsletter, and a few more on social media.  My books have done well in certain categories; however, they’re still not widely known.

So, I sat there basking in this depressed feeling of obscurity that seemed to be some sort of obstacle to what I’ve been trying to do.  I’m certainly not going to start acting like a cheap salesman or a wide-eyed religious proselytizer.  If people are interested, then they need to ask.  Even though my books seem to overwhelm some people, they’re really not scratching the surface of what I could share.  My health is also not cooperating in this endeavor, perhaps because of this feeling of gloom and futility.

Some may also be wondering why I am taking everything so slowly, rather than just blurting it all out, mindlessly chattering about all that I have gathered from Spiritual Practice, as well as my amazing death experience.  This is not a coincidence.  It has to do with the dynamics of people and how some individuals become enraged when someone they don’t instantly perceive as the proper salesman for the job comes to them with spiritual knowledge.  Instead of seeking someone who is knowledgeable and genuine, they really are looking for someone who meets their preconceived notions, some salesman in a cheap suit or a cult leader of sorts.

It's an interesting social dynamic, one that causes devastation everywhere.  For some reason, and I’m not really quite sure why, there are many people who seem like they are very advanced Spiritual Practitioners on the surface, at least that is what they will tell you; however, they get very upset when someone talks about their own spiritual advances or successes.  It is because of this unfortunate human condition that I’m taking my time.

This is a newsletter, and you all know that I’ve been working on another book.  What you don’t know is that I’m working on another eleven books.  The one that I’ve wanted to write, the one that a very small number of people have been expecting, is one that chronicles my death experience in great detail.  I’ve been toying around with novels, illustrated children’s books, spiritual books of various sorts; however, I’ve been resisting something that is more autobiographical in nature, something that really delves into the full death experience.  I’ve found this very hard to write, both because it hasn’t seemed like the right time and because it sickens me to mention self so much.

I haven’t seen anything else out there that even comes close to what I have in mind.  Even the Tibetan Book of the Dead barely scratches the surface.  I didn’t want to say this, as it would be something that would definitely upset people who are clinging to religion, belief and concept.  I’ve tried to approach this with a light touch, even though I’ve already upset a great many people.  What I’ve discovered is not really something that most people can handle.

There is something very depressing about what I’ve discovered.  This knowledge reveals that the ineffable couldn’t give a rat’s ass about this fabrication called self.  People were hoping that they’d discover God or something like Source, and that this bright condition would say something like, “Oh, you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever seen, keep doing what you’re doing.”  In reality, we discover something that is not amazed by this person who we think about all the time.  Even though this light could be described as nothing other than love and compassion spreading out in all directions, everywhere at once, throughout this illusion of time and space, in reality we discover that this figment of our imagination that we call self is forgotten before it appears.

It was in this dark stew of dread and depression that I remained at ease, realistically considering my next action.  I sat wondering if I should continue this endeavor, and water splattered me out of a clear blue sky.  Then a rainbow appeared up there in the sky above all the hesitation. 

Blessings in Light,               

Robert Aho