If we accept as a given that the reality around us is shaped by our consciousness and sensations, and that the conscious, aware part of us is unconditional, then for any reality to feel truly real, it must first be perceived. Everything that can make up reality happens. All components of reality occur, and all are momentary. In the realm of what is real, nothing is permanent—there is no constant except for one element that is always present: ourselves, or more precisely, the conscious part of us.
Since every other element of reality that we perceive (besides our personality) is impermanent, it would be strange to base happiness on these fleeting things. Otherwise, we would have to worry about the sources of happiness running out. Is that even possible? Life would turn into a chase—not for happiness itself, but for imaginary sources of it. And even then, what these sources provide is, at best, pleasure, and pleasure is temporary by nature.
Therefore, the only true source of happiness can be the one constant in any person’s life—the conscious part of their own being. Let go of the past; it has already been lived. Let go of the present; another magical present will arrive. Don’t chase the future; it will never truly arrive, and when it does, it is already the present.
Enjoy the moment, each of which is unique. Each moment is like a precious diamond, colored by its own hue—an endless spectrum of colors that never repeat. Each moment is an amazing bouquet of pictures, sounds, sensations, feelings, temperatures, touches, and scents. Suddenly, I become sensation itself, and my sense of “I” dissolves into the endless flow of the Universe. Everything falls into place.
Perhaps this is what it means to love oneself. To observe the mind flitting through questions, doubts, and fears, and to laugh at it. To break through the thick underbrush of questions and fears, recognizing what surrounds and protects us in this “not our” war. Only the realization remains that I, too, will die one day. This realization holds no tragedy; it is simply an awareness of the temporality of time and the meaning of timelessness—into which I return when I unexpectedly find myself amidst questions, doubts, and fears.
The timelessness of the mind is the moment of life that is the only truth. It is the life at the center of all questions and fears, where the “I” is not present. There is only the charm of fresh leaves in this impenetrable thicket and the intoxicating scent of magical, otherworldly flowers.
To love oneself means to rejoice in every manifestation of life within, to live every impulse of life with love and gratitude.
