All for One
- By Chuan Zhi
- Jun 04, 2009
- (Hits: 2380)
There are people whose hearts are dead. They puzzle at the world, wondering why things are as they are. They don't understand. They fail to see that the world is made of heart because only heart can see heart. The mind, alone, is senseless to the sensibilities of the heart. The heart is the only source of beauty, of joy, of creativity and understanding. The mind relentlessly circumvents the domain of heart, because it has no other options. It seeks that which it cannot find, which it cannot, by its nature alone, see. In frustration, it creates anger, anxiety, and hate. In hopelessness, it creates depression, and sorrow. In seeking fulfillment, it seeks competition with others, it seeks fame, and it seeks greed. The mind, alone, is like the earth without the sky; a stark and barren place. But when the heart hears, the mind rejoices! Joy creates song and dance, love and humility. With heart, we achieve greatness in all things: science, art, music, business and politics… Spinning, the earth and sky unite, as one. And in that whirling timelessness, that which can be perceived clearly uplifts and enriches the lives of all humanity.
The creative mind transcends space and time. In art, in music, in literature, in mathematics, in science. But what is creative mind? It is the mind without self, the mind connected with the nature of the universe, which is without explanation, without definition. Definition creates only definition. Reality is that which is created, seen, and gone-beyond. To see beyond form and function, beyond definition, is to grasp what is True. To grasp what is True is to create the moment when possibility proves itself, when energy and mass, thought and form, become one.
In seeking the essence of being, we create wholeness. Separation, which is responsible for our suffering, vanishes just as a high cloud disintegrates in the late morning sky. There is no "me" and no "you", no "this" and no "that". There is just what Is.
In the end what is left? Only the beginning: an endless circle of becoming. No death. No birth. Just This.