Two Directions
There are two directions that I can look in: outside and inside. And there's me standing in the middle. Outside is everything that's not me, everything I see: you and my home and this computer and everything on the evening news. I'm in the middle: my body and my thoughts, memories, emotions, hopes and fears inspirations desires and my whole shebang.
And then there's the area I learned about from my teacher: within me. This is not my thoughts and feelings. It lies inside/underneath/within my thoughts and feelings.
It's like a train. I'm the train, rumbling down the track. I've got my body and my engine, the conductor and passengers, and I can also look out the window. I see the world going by.
And there's something else in this picture: the track. The solid, steel, unmovable track enables the train to move. The track gives it purpose.
I happen to be human and therefore I can look inside myself, as well as understand why I'd bother looking inside myself. I can see the solid track that enables me to move and live. This is what gives me purpose.
I can look in two directions. This is my own discovery, something I never got from any "spiritual talk." I learned of it from my teacher, Maharaji, who showed me how to feel within myself and reminds me. -- Joel
