One way of looking at what is – Totality, wholeness, fullness, source is all. To know itself, to experience itself, it “looks”, it intends, it surrenders to itself. In that allowing, fullness collapses into a point. Into a vehicle of expression. Into a person, an increment of the whole.
That person-point then seeks to return to the wholeness, to know itself fully from the point. When the point recognizes itself as the whole, then the whole can flow though the point into itself. Wholeness to a point, point to wholeness, then point within wholeness. Only the point is also found to be infinite wholeness. Point an unbounded, one and the same. Totality flowing into itself.
The point is called a singularity in physics. A point is the first lesson of geometry. While without dimension, it is infinite. It is also a fractal, each part containing the whole. As some physicists are observing, everything contains a singularity, arising from and collapsing into itself in every moment.
Each of us a point, never apart from the one, containing and being the all.
When a child is born, they are one with the mother. As self awareness begins, they pull away from self into a more focused point of self, into a growing sense of person. The ‘terrible twos’ result. In an era of awakeness, the person would grow up to awaken, stabilizing when they mature in their mid-20’s, as some kids are now. But for most of us, we stay trapped in the person.
What is astonishing is that this even happens. That totality can be trapped in so small a thing as a person. All of this suffering and drama in such a tiny box. It’s like being caught up in the experience of a grain of sand when we are the universe. Only more so – the universe is only a small part of the bigger picture, like a pearl on the necklace of Brahma.
Certainly it happens and I talk of the mechanics of the illusion, ego, and identity here in a number of posts. But it remains a curious thing. When you look at a person and see a divine expression of light and love, a focus of wholeness, it’s hard to even notice the tiny shadow of person. A spot of angst in an ocean of love.
Of course, when you’re in the shadow, caught in a box, the drama can seem very real and engaging. But it’s temporary. And even then, the love spills out all over. In the face of the wife and mother. The movements of a child. In inspiration. In joy. In peace. In our very being. We flow with what is in spite of ourselves. Or really, because of who we really are.