No one really has it better.

Not much better anyway.

Hardly better at all.

 

One is a millionaire and other is a bum.

One is a success and other is a failure.

One is right and other is wrong.

One is loved and other is hated.

 

We are used to thinking in dualities like this.

Our entire lives we think in terms of this profane world, and it’s stupid problems.

We mock the notion of heaven and life after death.

But there is heaven and there is life after death.

It’s here.

It’s not there it’s here. And it’s not in the world but it is here.

We come to understand it at some point. The world eventually does disappoint. All expectations dissipate to nothing. You are only left with what is – and it is then that you realise – this is all that matters, and this is the heaven you’ve been dreaming of. There is no other heaven.

 

…

I was looking the other day at the cars passing near my house and these people were going home from work, and me, I was sunbathing on my yard and staring blankly in the space.

I thought it must have been terrible to be in one of those ugly confined cars, sitting in those uncomfortable shirts, returning home with this head full of problems, waiting for the peak moment of the day occurring in front of the tv, with a beer and microwaved sapper.

Then I realized,

they could all just stop their fucking car, get outside, and sunbath here with me.

all the problems gone,

all the suffering gone,

just being. again. Not in time. Not in-between pleasure pursuits and stress-reliefs. No pleasure pursuit. No stress to alleviate. Just being here.

 

…outside situations differ considerably and yet it’s completely insignificant.

I say it time and time again and yet upon seeing these cars passing me I was feeling sorry for those people, with their ridiculous pursuits.

I habitually passed judgement about their lives.

I say I need none of the glitters they are chasing so desperately and thus I am happy. Nothing separates me from the blissfulness of existence.

And yet when I see them – I habitually assume that something separates them from this blissfulness.

Nothing does.

Yes, their entire lives barely resemble living. They are like walking dead.

But they could snap out any moment.

They won’t. But they could.

There is no separation from the PERFECTION for anyone.

 

Outside circumstances differ considerably but it’s all void.

Outside suffering is completely real — but is it nothing in comparison with the inside pain.

I am very hopeful you will find a way to spend your days lingering in the sun, just being.

But otherwise – you can alleviate your inner pains, the excruciating pain of becoming – right here right now.

Get out of the fucking car and sit in the sun while you can.

Peace.