How real are we?

Got up earlier than usual, physically did more than usual. Late afternoon. We sit in our armchair and slowly sink into an exhausted slumber. We sink and sink. Our physicality dissolves. Deeper and deeper we sink. Heavy as lead, thrown into the middle of the silent, deep and dark ocean. In this moment: If we were not so rock-solidly convinced of our physical existence, if we were not used to assume our physical existence, in this moment of such deep and heavy oceanic sinking, what would remain of us, could we for once disregard this habit?

Pain must never be allowed to guide us. Our actions grow out of the fearless knowledge of our security in the meaning, of our soulfulness and of the eternal unity of everything. We always act in love for everything and everyone. There is no inner separation. Pain alone must never guide us.

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