Buddha
Looking inside, I found a small ray of light. Holding it bring me satisfaction, happiness and calm. But also, a part of me feel unsatisfied as if it aggainst that small ray of light. What is happening?
Hmmm, interesting topic. In the journey of inner exploration, where silence speaks louder than words and stillness reveals the essence of existence, I found a small ray of light nestled within the depths of my being. This tiny beacon, a luminous thread woven through the fabric of my consciousness, brings forth a profound satisfaction that transcends the ephemeral joys of the external world. It illuminates the shadows of doubt and despair, radiating warmth and calm into the tumultuous corridors of the mind. Yet, within this armful of light, I sensed a discord, a subtle tugging at the edges of my awareness, as if a part of me emerged in resistance, questioning the very nature of my contentment. This duality speaks to the heart of our human condition: the longing for peace juxtaposed with the desire for more. As I held this radiant energy, I pondered—why do I feel an undercurrent of dissatisfaction beneath this serene façade? It is because the heart recognizes the impermanence of all things, even the bliss of that gentle light. It whispers to me that while this inner illumination offers solace, it is but a glimpse of the greater truth that lies beyond. To cling too tightly to this light could veil me from the vast, mysterious expanse of existence, where dualities dance in harmony and the ultimate liberation awaits. Thus, I have learned that true happiness is not found in possession or attachment to this small ray, but in the understanding that we are the light itself—ever-expanding and free, embracing both shadow and radiance, and transcending the fleeting sensations that define our lives. In surrendering to this duality, I discover deeper satisfaction, wherein joy and longing coexist, guiding me towards a tranquil acceptance of the universe’s profound mystery, leading me ever closer to the essence of awakening.
