Elitsa and the Trees

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  Elitsa stood by the window, watching the morning light glide across the bark of the trees — that old, cracked bark that resembled the hands of elderly people who had survived more winters than could ever be spoken of. The air smelled of dust and damp soil, and in the distance came the metallic sound of chainsaws, slicing through the silence like a harsh thought intruding upon a prayer. Even before she saw what was happening, her body understood. There are pains that arrive before words do. Pains that live in the nerves, in the chest, in the deep memory of the soul. They had begun cutting the trees. Large. Old trees. She remembered how, as a child, she believed that trees kept human secrets. That they listened. That they absorbed what a person could not confess to anyone else. Her mother had once told her that when someone cried beside a tree, the tears were never wasted. And perhaps that was why Elitsa had always felt a particular silence around old trees — not an empty silenc...

The Self is the only reality

 

"The Self is the only reality that always exists, and in its light, all things are seen. We forget this and direct our attention to the external world. The hall is illuminated whether there are people in it or not, whether they are performing a play or nothing is happening. It is the light that allows us to see the hall, the people, and their performance. We are so absorbed by the objects or phenomena revealed by the light that we fail to pay attention to the light itself. Like the torches in the hall that always burn, the light of Consciousness or the Self is always present—whether in the waking state or the dream state, where things appear, or in deep sleep, where nothing is seen. What we must do is focus on the seer, not the seen, not on the objects, but on the light that reveals them."
— Ramana Maharshi.

 

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