The other day I was doing a reading for a friend who is having some difficulties and I came across this passage:
“No matter what I think is happening or what I think I see, I am only the Clear Shining Light. The Father-Mother, the storms, the thunder, the whirlwind, the terrifying apparitions, the guides and my fears are only the thought-forms of my consciousness folding and unfolding.
Whatever I have experienced on any realm is only the projection of my own consciousness. The only genuine experience I have ever had is that of being the Clear Luminous Void of the Void. No matter what it seems to be, that is the only reality. Only I, the Clear and Shining Void, am real.
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What good is it to desire an empty and unreal illusion? What good will it do me to cling to an unreal appararition as if it were solid and could protect me? What am I afraid of? There is nothing real besides myself as the Clear Shining Light, and so there is nothing that can hurt me, because there is nothing to hurt.
I have been pretending that what is real is unreal, and that what doesn’t exist does exist. Can it be that I need something to exist so desperately that I am willing to do this to myself? Since all these things are simply the images which I place on my own essential self, the void itself, there is no sense in clinging to them.”
From the 35th Chamber of the American Book of the Dead
