The idea that I am not, God Alone Is, used to leave me both free and a bit depressed. The depressed mind, that snippet of mind that still clung to individuality, realized that while it was good news and let me off the hook entirely, also interpreted that to mean I would dissolve into the nothingness, into the no-thing-ness, that I would no longer exist, period. That dear sweet magnificent puzzle of a mind saw that as an event that would take place at the death of the body … and feared it.

Guessing that fear also made certain that all surrender was conditional. Wouldn’t want to pull the trigger prematurely and off myself, you know.

Yeah. I know. That’s insane but heck, that’s the nature of a depressed mind, the nature of this silly sense of separation. It makes up stories and as I’ve found, they are always of a depressing nature.

As the truth of that idea — God Alone Is — began to morph into a fully formed reality, a bit of that old story — yikes, I’m a goner — remained. God Alone Is took on the visceral feel of truth as the body itself slipped into the background. Consciousness was taking center stage and the sense of separation was fading into the wings … and a little shimmer of depressed mind sneeked backstage and tucked itself into the farthest corner of the star’s dressing room, unwilling to recognize that the show was being cancelled.

Standing on the dark stage, the lighting on the inside now, no longer requiring infusions of outer applause, a different show plays. The other day, curious or perhaps feeling safe, that little wisp of depression popped its head out and saw its own shadow — and realized it was all shadow. As it gratefully imploded I felt its story, felt the lie dissolve, felt the relief that little big bit of me experienced as it returned home. I was never the individual it sought to protect. All these years it had been waiting off stage for a character who never was. I was always God playing the role, starring as Amaya, starring as the whole darn show.

When this body appears to die, the I I am will not miss a beat. Years ago I was a passenger in a car, driving down Hwy 1 near Big Sur. I had been meditating and opened my eyes. The very first thing I saw was a dragonfly as it hit the windshield — splat. It didn’t end there. The luminescent green and blue dragonfly kept on flying … through the windshield, right past my ear, into its next expression. It’s wings didn’t miss a beat. I was shown death, how it works, how easy it is to move from one expression to the next. The mind wants to hang on but it will eventually let go entirely, when you are standing on life’s stage, lit from the inside.