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I met a man today who told me the story of an insight he had that changed his life.

He saw who he really was. Not his body, not his personality, not the man, not the identity, but the beautiful expression of the universe that he really is. 

At first he cried because it was so beautiful. And then he laughed. 

It was bliss. 

And then he came back to the “real world,” and he was confused. 

He said, “Great! I know that I am bliss. I know that that’s what I really am. What good does it do me in this body? What good is knowing this when I’m stuck here?”

Then he started seeking, looking for something, because he knew there had to be a way it made sense.

Finally, he found the connection through what Sydney Banks called the Missing Link, the creative power of thought. We use thought, like the masters we are, to create the reality we think we’re living in, without knowing what we do. When he saw that, it was a huge relief.

Seeing the bliss changed his life, but even more, it changed his life to know that he was creating the way he felt by the attention he gave to his thoughts, and that he didn’t have to give his attention to the ones that hurt him anymore. 

I really felt it as I listened to him, and I thought, “Oh my god! You’ve really seen it. You really felt what we are in a way that I haven’t, in a way that I’d really like to.”

Then I remembered something. The reason I can see the truth, I can feel the truth, in what someone else says is because that lives in me. 

That which was true for him, seeing the beauty of what we really are, I’m feeling it, and that’s me, too. 

I’ve seen it. I’ve tasted it. I’ve touched it. I know… 

I know what I really am.

It doesn’t always look that way. Sometimes it looks like I’m this little person with lots of flaws, and lots of stories to tell about myself to prop me up when I’m feeling awful. But none of that is what I am.

What I am can’t be touched or damaged by anything. It can’t be changed. Before the identity I’ve created for myself.

I could see in him the apparent separation, and still, he knew it.  When he talked about what we really are, it came through him. He was a clear channel for that, letting go of his identity, and letting the essence move through him. 

I saw it and felt it as he spoke. 

I also saw the contraction of his personal identity, and I know that because I also feel it in me.

Seeing this has been so disruptive. I can’t even tell you exactly why, but it’s been haunting me ever since. 

It feels as if a little more of my identity is crumbling,  and that’s a little scary, but only when I think about what’s crumbling away as if it actually existed in the first place. 

When I think about having a deeper experience of the true world, of the Truth – well, that doesn’t seem scary at all. That’s just damn beautiful.

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