I knew I was a phony


‘Wee-me’ loves to think of itself as being ‘what-one-really-is.’  And with the application of very odd logic it also claims to be able to change, train, control and make-up its own mind.

I looked everywhere for it, within and without.  Being led to believe that I’d found it – by believing others’ stories about me, I tried all the tricks to train it, heal it, change and control it.  I became a better story – again according to others.

But I knew I was a phony, a dissembler.

I couldn’t live with such incoherence.  I had to take the inquiry deeper.

One day, having tracked the poor ‘wee-me’ thing to its archive in the thought-stacks, I gazed into its pathetic, cowering, tear-brimmed eyes and saw my shimmering mirage-self.  I saw its terror at being exposed.  I hugged it and told it not to worry.  It fell into this Heart.

The gap between wee-me-myself and Selfing snapped shut.

That was the day the weeping ended.

mmmmmmmmm m m  m  m   m    m . . .