For those alone and afraid.
Where the mind is no longer safe and the self is confused.
It takes place within darkness, and the ship has sunk. A darkness that swallows everything you thought you knew.
If you are drowning or have drowned. If you have fallen or are falling.
This story is for you.
Take it with you to the deepest parts of darkness, take it with you to the realm from which it sleeps.
This is a story on the gift of a flame.
Silent Whispers
The storm is a frightening event, and no two storms are the same.
Relentless winds crumble the foundation while the rain drowns hope.
The lightning is fierce, repeating, and unyielding.
The body? Forgotten and hurt.
The self has identified with the storm and taken form.1
Its voice becomes thunder. Its hands become fists of hail.
Deeper still, in the darkest parts of darkness, where shadows are blind and secrets have no voice, where the terrible winds that once plagued the body? You can’t hear their howling. Where the ground would split and fall? Are you still, or are you falling? Numb.
Time has stopped, and direction is meaningless.
Even here, especially here, sits a smokeless flame.
Small and subtle.
Brilliant and calm.
Breathe
Keep a constant gaze on the light of this flame and watch as the self dissolves its own confusion. Watch as the flame illuminates the mind and slows its fluctuations.2
Amidst this void, this endless darkness, receive the gift of a flame: as tears begin to fall from the eyes, so fall the binding chains to which the self appears to cling.
One by one, let the tears of the seer drip into the chalice of the self. Each tear brings back the sound of rain and the sensation of wind. Each tear breaks through the dense black clouds of pain and misery. Each tear rejuvenates one’s knowing and washes away the tarnished layer.
The flame breathes this knowing. Gaze into it as the self appears to be drowning.
The flame presents stillness when the self appears to be thrashed by waves of chaos.
Rest your sight on the light of this flame as it burns eternal within your heart.
Here, in the darkest parts of darkness, in the realm from which it sleeps, lies a secret to be found: the gift of a flame.