--- In [email protected], TurquoiseB <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> wrote:
> --- In [email protected], "authfriend" <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> wrote:
> > --- In [email protected], "L B Shriver" <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> 
> > wrote:
> > > --- In [email protected], "authfriend" <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> 
> > wrote:
> > > 
> > > snip
> > > > That's not it.  The thought is, "That hurts.  I am
> > > > in pain.  I don't want to be in pain."
> > > > 
> > > > That's not a "story," that's a visceral response. 
> > > > 
> > > ********
> > > 
> > > No story no pain.
> > 
> > Bull.  The story is that there has to be a story.
> 
> Attachment to attachment.

I'm going to expand upon this, trying to speak as Rory
does to the enlightened being that is Judy rather than
the person who is going to interpret my three words
above as a slam.

They're not.  They're a direct commentary on what I see as 
the real issue here.  Rory (if I have interpreted his words
correctly) seems to be saying that the "pain" of feeling
"hurt" when someone tells you the truth is not your pain.
It's not even pain.  It's the death struggles of an ego 
trying to assert itself and survive.  It's nothing more than
a shadow that is growing darker as the light shining on
it becomes brighter.

The "pain" of feeling bad because someone tells you
the truth about realization IS, as far as I can tell, just a
story.  And the story is fiction.  You seem to be trying to
make a case for the story being "real," just because 
you feel it.  In these discussions, Rory has been telling
you that you are free, and you have been asserting, over
and over, that he is mistaken and that you are not.

Your *stories* are what are imprisoning you, Judy.  You
are like a person pacing back and forth in a tiny jail
cell, the bars of which keep you from walking into the
world of freedom and liberation that you glimpse through
the bars and that you read about in the works of those 
who have "broken out of prison" before you.

What I think Rory is trying to say is that the bars of your
jail cell don't exist.  They are just a hologram, an image
of a jail cell that has no real existence. The bars have
no substance.  The only thing that keeps you in place
within the cell and keeps you from walking into the
world of liberation is your *idea* that the cell is real,
that the "bars" are real.

For now, in my opinion, you seem to be terribly attached
to the cell being real.  You don't even try to rattle the bars
or to examine them to see if they're real.  You already
"know" that they're real.  Anyone who says differently is
obviously fucking with you.  So what you do when some-
one tells you that the bars aren't real is to try to make the
person who's telling you the truth feel bad about telling 
you the truth.  You try to make the person who has caused
you "pain" feel pain himself.  

You talk about pain...well, I'll tell you...this whole process
is more than a little painful to watch.

The attachment I see here is your attachment to things
as they have been for your whole life.  You've learned
to cope with things the way they've been for your whole
life.  In your own words, you've "developed a thick skin."
You've learned to ignore any information that seems
contrary to the way things have been for your whole life.
You say, "The bars are real; the cell is real; I really *am*
a prisoner here, and I resent you who have tasted free-
dom telling me that the reality I see around me *isn't*
real."  The attachment, in other words, is to attachment
itself, to the status quo that you have developed a thick
skin about, to nothing ever really changing.

The cell isn't real.  The bars don't really exist.  One day
you're going to get tired of trying to intellectually under-
stand enlightenment and just go for enlightenment.  One
day you're going to forget your self and its attachments
and just start walking.  And when you do, you'll find 
yourself outside the cell.  It'll surprise the shit out of you.
You'll probably walk back and look at it, just to see if
it was real all this time.  You'll reach out and touch the
"bars" and your hand will go right through them, as if
they weren't there.  They weren't there.  All that was
ever there was your *story* about the bars, your sad,
sad tale of being stuck in jail, unjustly.

You'll realize that there was never anything you could
DO to escape from jail, because you were never in it
in the first place.  There IS no doing when it comes to 
escaping from the imaginary prison of self. 

I hope for your sake that this happens soon.  I know that
it'll happen, in spite of your self's efforts to keep it from
happening.  That's the magic of self realization -- even
the self can't keep itself from realization.







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