Permanent | A Poem on Self
31 days of January gone,
28 days of February will too;
Before long 2021 will be gone,
& the date will end in 2022.
Nothing remains the same.
The mirror changes images,
The one looking, being the same.
On one hand, there’s anxiety;
Life is passing ever so slightly-
Death is approaching fast,
Not even the Universe shall last.
Yet there’s something,
I feel remains unchanging;
The glories of which,
Sages have been chanting.
Permanent in nature,
Closest in distance,
If we look at our life experience, every day is exactly the same.
Just like days become months become years, life keeps passing away.
Yet, there is a very strong essence inside of me, the experiencer, that stays permanent.
It cannot be perceived by my senses like I perceive ordinary objects and experiences.
It is not something far from me, in-fact there is nothing closer to me than it.
Yet, for some reason, it remains unbelievable.
This used to be a very common experience back in school. Every new term (semester) we would have some difficulty adjusting with writing a new year at the end of the date. Oh it's 2013 already! I had just adjusted to completing the date with 2012.
I feel same is the case with life itself. We celebrate a new year 2021. But before long, we shall be celebrating the onset of 2022.
This is such a common experience that we almost always ignore it. "I" am the same baby who looked at the mirror in amusement, the same teenager concerned about acne on his face and I will be the same old person looking at the wrinkles on my face. In all these cases even though the reflection I am seeing varies significantly, I am still seeing myself. Isn't that fascinating?
Sometimes I get real anxious thinking about how fast life is passing away. There's so much I want to do but alas! One day I shall die and all that is happening is I am approaching that day steadily.
Even then I feel something inside of me remains unchanging. That "self" which the scriptures speak about. It doesn't seem to be approaching death? So how am I approaching death?
Hence concluding that the real "me" the self is permanent in nature. It is not subject to changes like the material (objective) universe I experience. The one experiencing shall never be affected by it.
It is closest in distance. In-fact it is the most apparent thing there is to me - my "self". This presence of awareness inside me which makes me feel that I exist. Yet, the intellect has a hard time "believing" it.
Maybe because it is not something that needs to be believed. It is the substratum for all beliefs to exist in the first place. Why would there be a need for a belief?
Thanks for reading.
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See you in the next one!