Henry Edwards78 said:I can't help but wonder what the poet actually intended by those words.
Don't tell me you don't understand what black-and-white thinking looks like. It’s when someone claims everyone is just living in a simulation, or insists that true justice doesn't exist. Or maybe it's when you pull straight A's on every exam, but you get one B and immediately decide you're a total failure. Absolutes aren't real. Nobody is purely beautiful or purely unattractive. You can't justify being ungrateful by claiming you haven't earned what you have, or else you'll end up with nothing. There is no such thing as being completely ungrateful. Just look around; life isn't binary. Look! God isn't like that either; if He were, none of us would exist because we would have cancelled each other out long ago under such rigid laws.
Regarding intuition... It really comes down to what you value, your level of intelligence, and how self-aware you are. It also depends on how you judge things and whether or not you actually trust your own gut feeling.
I’ve become enamored with myself—not out of vanity, but because of the life I am actively building through my own actions. It isn't something you can lose once you find it. For me, it’s a daily occurrence; I wake up eager because every single day offers a chance to discover something new that catches me off guard. Creativity is the heartbeat of this feeling, fueled by spontaneity, a sense of lightness, and a good sense of humor. Intellect, on the other hand, tends to take itself far too seriously. True wisdom comes from shifting your perspective. You can view a single object from endless angles and corners, provided you aren't afraid to look. It's about embracing new ideas and evolving beliefs. I’m in love with the process of living—the progress, the setbacks, the courage required for both. When people tell me it’s foolish to be "in love" with life, I simply don't see the logic. To me, anyone truly enlightened lives in a state of constant wonder because they have let go of the need to know everything. They don't assume they know what's behind the next corner. They allow themselves to be surprised by things they've seen a hundred times before. "Newness" is the secret to staying inspired. If someone claims they are incapable of feeling this way, I don't think it's a personality flaw; I think it's a matter of their belief system.
Every child naturally loves to play, until the time comes when we all drift apart and head down our separate paths. But fundamentally, we all still possess that urge to play. As adults, we all crave that sense of being captivated by life, yet we often wander off on our own ways. We shouldn't forget that we all carry an inner child within us—one that we’ve buried under layers of forced seriousness. If we convince ourselves that we are nothing more than our intellect and our responsibilities, and that our playful side has ceased to exist, then we become those people who seem unable to find joy.
Elizabeth Castillo87 said:Look, I’m not an enlightened person. I’ve said that a million times already. Sure, I’ve had those moments where I experienced pure consciousness—those times where the ego basically dissolves into nothingness—but eventually, I started putting it back together. Why? Because if everything is just one big illusion, then this specific illusion is actually pretty beautiful and holds its own weight. There are real people in here who might not get much out of us just merging into a single cosmic consciousness. That feeling of perfection is incredible; it's this state where you don't feel the urge to change a single thing or do anything at all because everything is just... perfect. Exactly as it is. But then, you either go full hermit in the desert, or you look around and see people you actually give a damn about—you see kids looking to you for actual, tangible things—and suddenly you're caught in a massive tug-of-war. So, you end up choosing your "self" all over again. You make the choice while simultaneously watching yourself make it. But once you've made that call? That constant, overwhelming sense of bliss and perfection fades. What's left is just living out the life you chose.
I see where you're coming from. What I don't quite grasp is whether you view yourself as being "serious" when someone tells you, "you did this," or even when I say, "I will do this." I mean, while you are in this state of being a functional ego—much like I am, an individual with my own distinct personality, emotions, and actions. Is it possible for you to move from the ego into pure consciousness by choice? Can you actually distinguish between the ego and pure consciousness while still operating within that ego state?
As someone who considers themselves semi-enlightened, I imagine you work quite a bit with your "self." Do you identify with it directly, or do you observe it as something separate—like an Uber-self or some other version of "I"? Or perhaps you just find peace in pure consciousness. Is there ever a need to deny the self? Then again, it would be YOU doing the denying, or at least a part of you. For my part, I tend to view us as pure consciousness and love; that’s how I describe it because it’s when I feel most relaxed and secure with myself whenever the question of "who am I, really?" starts to get confusing.
It’s quite a talent to claim mathematics holds dominion over spirituality! In this logic, math comes first, then God emerges, followed by the universe, and finally humanity. It’s as if Pythagoras invented pi, which then gave rise to $2\pi r$ and the circle—which is essentially divine simply because of its perfect, unbroken shape. Eventually, pi led to the calculator, which somehow calculated all of humanity. I find myself grateful to math every single day for being superior to spirituality. Every morning when I wake up, I solve an equation where $x$ represents my current lack of enlightenment, and every night, I calculate the statistical probability of actually achieving it.
Elizabeth Castillo87 said:For me, my first out-of-body experience happened while I was burning up with a fever back in elementary school, and then later, during a near-death experience where reality just seemed to split into two separate worlds. That’s actually what drove me to dive into psychology, then neurocognitive sciences, and eventually quantum physics. For years, I tried to hunt for answers in hard science while basically running away from spirituality, but I just couldn't make sense of those experiences—especially when things reached a breaking point where I truly dissolved into everything and stopped seeing myself as a separate entity. The weird part? My experiences weren't even triggered by contemplation or meditation, which isn't even something I started doing until about a year and a half ago.
ps. I want to point out that this experience has absolutely nothing to do with those "experiences" they try to manufacture nowadays using modern tech—you know, where one person wears a camera on their head and another wears 3D glasses, and by touching the person with the camera, they create this fake sensation of "feeling touch/being somewhere else" for the person in the glasses. It just creates a hollow illusion of identifying with what you're "seeing," and it’s nothing that breaks through the fabric of everyday existence (even if it manages to trip the brain up a bit). That's not it.
That’s why these experiment-induced experiences are so fascinating to me; I think it’s all the same stuff, except the person going through it has no clue what to do with it, especially since they know they're just part of an experiment. Anyway, like I said in my first post, I really think these experiments prove that there's so much more hidden inside us than just our perception of the material world—we just aren't aware of it until some kind of trigger kicks it off, or, obviously, if we practice some kind of spiritual discipline.
Don't try to micromanage your prayers; they should flow as naturally as an important conversation. Just stay present in the moment and embrace whatever emotions surface. You might feel a surge of joy one minute, then hit a wave of sadness or regret the next. You might find yourself calling on Heaven for Help, only to settle into a quiet state of reverence. Think of every prayer as a dime deposited into a savings account. We don't hold those funds in escrow for you; instead, we let each prayer drift out on the wind, yet it remains entirely yours, with the interest and benefits building up every single day.
Collect these prayers and lean on the support they provide. Every single one acts like an angel, guiding your path. Our role isn't to interfere with your prayers, but rather to cheer you on as you offer them. I've found that mornings are the perfect time to start. Ideally, you should attempt to converse with your Creator just before you fully wake up. If you can connect while your head is still on the pillow and your eyes are heavy with sleep, you'll wake up feeling tuned into the voice of your Beloved Creator. It’s a wonderful way to start the day, and starting with that kind of positive energy almost certainly paves the way for a life filled with happiness and miracles.
At its core, prayer is about "reconnecting," and reconnecting with the Divine is your direct link to constant inspiration and strength. Some people have started to view prayer as a chore or a set of rigid rules. While even obligatory prayer carries immense power—offering extra blessings to those who are already living vibrantly—it shouldn't feel like a burden. Think of prayer like pulling into a gas station to top off your tank with fuel and oil. You can pray at any time during the day just by setting the simple intention to reach out to Heaven. Simply hold the thought that you need God’s loving guidance, and consider it done. Rest assured, we are always here to support you, and your prayers will never go unanswered.
From the book: Messages from Your Angels - Doreen Virtue
Michael Roberts9 said:The more time you spend with Him in the quiet corners of your mind, as Jesus says—just pray in secret, and God, who sees what’s hidden, will reward you! seek and you shall find! knock and the door will open! ask and it’ll be given to you! the more you surrender to Him, the more you’re gonna have to let those tears flow. You’ve gotta humble yourself, deep down, and just let His grace pour over you like rain. Don't tell anyone else about this. And don't go spamming this everywhere in 24 hours! This is just for you, to help open your eyes... because otherwise, you'd just stay blind... God knows, I haven't got a clue...
A true fear of God will soak into your soul; you'll feel His depths and soar above the heights!
Personally, I’m afraid of the light. Have you ever felt that? I’ve often found myself close to the light, only to pull back in fear, thinking, "Not yet, this isn't for me, it's too early."
Zachary Gonzalez8 said:I guess you could look at it that way. But honestly? Sometimes it feels totally pointless. The whole routine... getting up, commuting, showing up...
just grinding through eight hours of pure, unadulterated boredom every single day.🙂
We'll either figure it out or reach some sort of enlightenment where it won't matter anymore. I once sat in on a lecture by a spiritual teacher who mentioned he used to work sixteen-hour days back in the day. He hit a point where he felt completely broken—just praying for a way out because he couldn't go on. But he pushed through it, grit his teeth, and kept moving. He told us that once he crossed that threshold, everything became easy; he had essentially transcended the feeling of exhaustion itself.🙂
It's the exact same thing. I'm constantly stuck in this loop, trying to figure out how to make the whole inevitable slog of showing up to work feel less like a grind.
I remember reading somewhere—probably in some self-help book—that you should "do what you love" so you aren't really working in the traditional sense. But here’s the kicker: what if what you love is just walking around, getting lost in a book, or just... losing your mind a little bit? 🙂
In that case, the passion is the actual work, and everything else is just the means to fund it. It’s a cycle, really. Even in creative fields like music, it repeats itself. I've thought about trying my hand at acting... though I'd prefer not to get too tangled up in those specific complications.
bluemason3 said:I'm not so sure about using that hyper-modern "Western" cliché in this context.
Sure, "no pain, no gain" works if you're trying to be an elite pro athlete. But it also means you'll spend the rest of your life dealing with a mountain of injuries, likely ending up with more health issues than some guy who just sits on his couch watching Netflix all day.
Pain is primarily a signal that something is wrong. Just as physical exercise for recreation should involve a gradual build-up without pushing past certain limits—unlike what happens in professional sports—the same logic applies to spiritual practice. Sometimes people approach it like a competitive sport, thinking there’s some "enlightenment trophy" to be won. Often, there are hidden motives at play, where they just want to feel superior to others because they can't satisfy their ego any other way.
But whenever we follow a "no pain, no gain" philosophy, the risk of "injury" goes up.
We need to figure out the goal of the practice, our actual capacity, and the risks involved before deciding on a pace. Most of the time, the situation is this: the supposed goals are just vague slogans (while the real ones are social or psychological), our abilities are overestimated, the risks are unknown, and our methods are only superficially understood.
I find that I feel much better when I’m physically active and actually worn out by the end of the day, rather than sitting around doing nothing. That said, I’ve never been one for unnecessary hardship; I don't enjoy struggle for the sake of struggle. It’s a bit of a paradox: I feel more present when I'm moving, yet I dislike repetitive, grueling labor. When I’m being lazy and staying idle, my mind starts racing. Even while I am working, my head spins with thoughts of how to avoid the heavy lifting—constantly dreaming up ways to secure a comfortable life without the grind. Yet, the more I actually do, the happier I feel. It reminds me of those old martial arts movies where the protagonist undergoes intense training. They spend ages performing the same repetitive movements over and over until they finally hit a breaking point, pushing past the physical discomfort to reach a new level of mastery. I suspect that’s the path I need to take, but I have to admit, finding the discipline to get there is a constant struggle.
You end up burning the pancakes because your mind was somewhere else, but there's a way to look at that as both a failure and a moment of creation.
You were lost in thought about something—something that's pushing to be brought into existence—and that distraction caused the slip-up. In a way, one form of creation took precedence over another.
I believe intention is the core driver here. Thoughts, ideas, and words all have to align with that underlying purpose; if they don't, you aren't actually creating anything. In my experience, it starts with a thought, which then builds into a deliberate intention. That leads to action, which opens up new possibilities, which in turn sparks more thoughts and further actions. It’s a constant, shifting cycle where everything is interconnected until you finally reach the end goal.
Michelle Sanchez2 said:You can find the answer to this in Transurfing.😉
I went through the first book and about half of the second before I eventually gave up. I have nothing against the concept, but I tend to stick to my own philosophy. It isn't that the material is bad—I wouldn't say that—it just didn't resonate enough for me to keep going. Lately, I've been leaning more toward audiobooks; I've gotten a bit lazy when it comes to sitting down with a physical book.