If we accept as an axiom that the surrounding reality is a product of consciousness and perception — and that the conscious (aware) part is unconditional — then for anything to fully become “real,” it must first be perceived, recognized. Everything that constitutes reality happens — every element, every occurrence. And yet, all of it is fleeting. In the world of what we call real, nothing is permanent. Not a single constant remains, except for the one thing that is always present: ourselves. Since every other element we perceive — except the core of who we are — is impermanent, it would be strange to build our happiness on those unstable foundations.
Otherwise, we’d live in fear that the “source of happiness” might disappear. But does that even make sense? If we followed that logic, life would become a desperate chase — not for happiness, but for the illusions we’ve mistaken as its source. And even if we caught them, the feeling we’d experience would likely be pleasure — a temporary visitor, not a lasting companion. So the only true source of happiness must be the only true constant in any person’s reality: the core of their being.
For the first time in my life, I am not afraid for love. I am not attached to outcomes. And yet, I am entirely ecstatic about what I feel. Letting go of the past — it’s already been lived. Letting go of the present — another magical present will arrive. Not chasing the future — it will unfold in its own time. Savoring this moment — this one, and the next, and the next — each one unique. Each one a precious diamond, refracted in 64 billion colors. No — an infinite number of colors. Shades that never repeat. Each moment a living bouquet of sensations: sights, sounds, inner and outer textures, temperatures, feelings, fragrances. Suddenly, I am pure sensation. And the “I” dissolves into the flow of the Universe. Everything, suddenly, makes sense.
Perhaps this is what it means to love yourself. To meet yourself with tenderness. With reverence. With love. To know — not just think, but know — that I am a treasure. Not some stone kicked along the side of the road. To watch my mind twist with questions, doubts, fears… and to smile gently at it all. To walk through the dense thickets of fear with my clarity intact, my sight unshaken. And what shields me, what wraps itself around me in this war that isn’t mine? Only this: the quiet truth that one day, I too will die. And in that, there is nothing tragic. Only the recognition of time’s impermanence — and the Timelessness I return to again and again whenever doubt or fear take hold. That Timelessness is the real moment of life. The one that exists beneath and beyond thought. The still point in the center of fear, where “I” disappears… and only the scent of the forest remains. The bright leaves. The divine scent of another world.
And if the world ever tries to crush you — embrace it first.
