18 May 2022
If there was a sage who wished to impart his highest
teaching to you, then he would have to get you to a place
beyond your mind in order for you to receive it. And I
don’t mean beyond in any kind of spatial way, because
what I am referring to has no space to be other than here.
Everything else is a visitor. Even the state of presence
is a visitor, but That—the Real—is not a visitor,
and it is not visited either. It simply is. It cannot depart,
nor can it arrive. Even to say ‘it reveals itself’ is only
because of the limitations and culture of language.
It cannot be conveyed through words alone.
You, as a person, are like a face drawn in the sand.
It is there, but the sand knows nothing about it.
You can make a picture in the sand as great as a Picasso
or a Michelangelo but the desert neither loses nor gains
any grain, and the desert will not keep it. The desert will
not keep your artwork. It is neither happy nor sad about
any footprint. There are no maps for the desert.
Neither the artist nor the artwork will be remembered
by the desert. All are but fleeting expressions of one
wholeness. You are that Wholeness.