Contemplative Currents Podcast

In this episode, I reflect on a heated phone call with a family member that unexpectedly opened a doorway into deeper inquiry. We explore how our constant mental tug-of-war—between what should have been and what shouldn’t have happened—pulls us away from the raw intelligence of what is. What if the moment isn’t wrong? What if presence is found not in fixing, but in resting with what unfolds?

Our everyday perception suggests a clear dualistic distinction: there's an "outside" world of solid objects and an "inside" self that observes and interacts with it. This sense of solidity is then reinforced by our experiences, where we feel like distinct entities moving through a concrete world. So we may think, “ I am here and you with all other things in the world are things that are apart/separate from me”. We may come to believe that the world is a set of fixed, permanent objects, with you being the subject, stand apart from it, observing, reacting, experiencing”. Our senses, truly the mind, creates this illusion of boundaries of inside versus outside. It’s a fascinating assumption that when seen through presents a different and dare I say, more enjoyable experience of living. For me, it started with a number of self-inquiry questions, one of which crumbled the idea of inside-outs and the non-solidity of reality. I will share a few notes about why this matters, particularly how this could lead to a better way of living and being. Of course through this we can make a slight tilt in the way we look at our mistaken belief that we are separate entities, and perhaps this might affect our emotional wellbeing, our understanding of devotion, and especially for me, the awe of being.

What if reality isn’t what we think it is

For a second, let’s engage in this thought experiment. Let’s imagine you’re in a dream. I’m in it too. In your own dream! Remember that! It’s just you and I taking a walk on the streets of where-ever-the-heck dreams conjure up. We are having an existentialism conversation. I then pose a question to you, “What if you are not in your body, and you’re located somewhere totally different? Perhaps not even located in the dream at all!” You would probably argue with me, pointing out how you could be nowhere else apart from the body which you gesture with one of your hands.

Scenario over! Now, on this physical plain of reference, if I asked the same question, your response may be “Of course, I'm in my body! Where else would I be?” So in this one, I want to explore with you the possibility that you may, in fact, not be IN the body, contrary to our collective belief. The body exists in awareness. In other words, awareness isn’t trapped or localized in a physical vessel—rather, the entire bodily experience arises within awareness itself. I will attempt to explore and investigate this using inspiration from the work of Greg Goode in his book, The Direct Path: A User Guide. I will then go into why this matters in the grand scheme of things. And that’s the beautiful part of this for me!

Flipping the Subject-Container Assumption

Our default view of ourselves is a subject-in-a-container model: “I” (subject) am inside this body, looking out at the world. This ingrained “container metaphor” conditions us to see ourselves as enclosed entities separate from everything else. But where exactly are you in the body? Upon investigation, we may find we are actually not where we think we are. In Greg Goode’s book he guide’s the reader into this investigation which I will spell out in my own words here(and there’s also a video below to demonstrate this).

The investigation

If you split the body in half, say at the waist, ask yourself if you’re in the upper half or the lower. Chances are you would identify yourself being at the upper half. We then split this top half into two, the head and neck being one half and the rest of the abdomen being the second half. Now, if asked where you are, you would most likely point to the topmost half— the head and neck half.

Now let’s split the face in half horizontally around the nose line. Now, are you above the nose area or below it? If you’re like me, you may start to conclude that you are somewhere on the line of where the eyes are, somewhere behind the eyes— some small location somewhere mid-head behind the eyes.

As you go on this investigation, finding that place that you are, the real question we should now ask is “is that you or are you observing that?” You may see that that feeling or sense of where you are is something YOU are observing. No matter where you find ‘yourself’ you would notice that location is just something that’s arising in awareness. You would ultimately find that, like in a dream, you don’t have any location.

Also, you can consider this other investigation. Close your eyes and notice what’s actually present: perhaps pressure around the face, darkness, mental imagery of your head’s interior. Those sensations and images appear to you, the awareness. They don’t prove that “you” are literally inside the head; they’re simply thoughts/feelings labeled “me in the head.” The mind takes perspectives (like vision originating between the eyes) and weaves a self-location story around them. It’s an ingenious illusion.

But you may still think “Well, I still feel and believe I am inside this body”.

There is yet another analogy we can use that I will call the space-in-a-pot analogy. If you imagine a jar with space in it, would you agree with me that the space within the jar is not different than the space outside the jar? When the jar breaks, it’s obvious that inside and outside were one space all along. Likewise, awareness or consciousness appears “inside” a body, yet it remains the indivisible, all-pervasive reality. Awareness is neither inside nor outside the body, but everywhere —the very notions of “inside” and “outside” simply don’t apply to it the way the space inside of your room is not different than the space outside it and is vastly wider and freer than its occupation. Why then do we define the room by only what we see?

In our belief that we are IN the body, we have unknowingly reversed the truth: identifying as a thing (body) that contains awareness, instead of awareness containing all things (including the body) is like saying the room owns the space in it when in fact, the room appears in space. Once this is clear, it’s easy to see that “You are not in the body, the body is in you… Everything arises in the vast, open, empty space of Consciousness or the Self”. That understanding helps you realize you are non-locale! You are not found in time and space. In that awakened perspective, the body, mind, and world are experienced as contents floating in the expanse of awareness. The subject–container illusion is then seen through, what’s left is awareness or the Self as the true locus of experience.

In reality, awareness has no size, shape, or location—it’s the aware space in which all locations and positions are imagined. As Advaita texts remind us, the Self is space-like: subtle, without parts, and all-pervasive . Location applies to objects, not to the subject which is aware of all objects

Why it matters

Dispelling the illusion of being “in the body” could be mind-blowing literally. First, it undermines fear at the root. If you believe you are a vulnerable entity sealed in a bag of skin, the world appears threatening and “out there.” But when you realize your identity as boundless awareness, the body is understood as an appearance within you, not as your ‘prison’ or even meat suit, as some would express it. This loosens the grip of the fear of death and harm. The body may be subject to injury, sickness and death, but you (awareness) are not in it to be killed. As one contemplative, Dr. Andy Atwood put it, you shift from being in pain to finding pain within you—surrounding it in a vast expanse—and thereby transcend much of its sting. A fearless peace reveals itself when you know yourself as the space in which all experience comes and goes.

It is true that the physical matter of your body is inside the matter of the house, and the matter of the house is inside the matter of the universe. But you are not merely matter or physicality. You are also Consciousness as Such, of which matter is merely the outer skin. The ego adopts the viewpoint of matter, and therefore is constantly trapped by matter—trapped and tortured by the physics of pain. But pain, too, arises in your consciousness, and you can either be in pain, or find pain in you, so that you surround pain, are bigger than pain, transcend pain, as you rest in the vast expanse of pure Emptiness that you deeply and truly are.— Dr. Andy Atwood

Secondly, this flip opens the door to non-separation. No longer seeing others as “out there” separate containers, you recognize that the same awareness that is your essence is equally the essence of all. There are no multiple awarenesses, just one field in which different body-mind patterns arise. This dissolves the hard borders between self and other. Compassion and empathy cease to be effortful moral ideals; they become the natural outcome of literally feeling others as within the same awareness. The Upanishadic vision “All this is Brahman” shifts from concept to lived reality.

Finally, it reshapes your devotional and contemplative life. If awareness is the true temple, then our relationship with the divine transforms. We are no longer tiny supplicants locked in a body, addressing a distant God. Instead, prayer and meditation become an interior communion in the very space of awareness where the divine presence lives. Christian mystics have long intuited this. For example, Paul is recorded to have recounted a Roman poet’s knowing, in God we live and move and have our being, suggesting that we exist within the Divine Life, not outside it. Likewise, he spoke of our life being “hidden with Christ in God.” These statements echo the nondual truth that we are living in God (Awareness), and that is our real home. The bodily sense of separateness gives way to a felt unity with the ground of Being. One realizes one’s consciousness is not a tiny flame inside the body, but a single, vast light in which “body” and “world” appear. In devotional terms, awareness is the sacred meeting place (the “inner sanctuary”) where one is one with God. Every moment of life is then happening within that hallowed space. This is a radical reorientation: life is no longer lived from inside out, but seen as the glorious dance of appearances within the infinite openness of Spirit.

Discovering that you are not in the body but that the body is in you (awareness) uproots a fundamental misperception. It removes the false boundary that made you feel small, vulnerable, and separate from the divine. What remains is an uncontained, fearless, and all-embracing identity in Spirit. “And God raised us up with Christ and seated us with him in the heavenly realms in Christ Jesus.” (Ephesians 2:6, NIV). So if you’re sat with Christ in heavenly realms, where else can you be?

Contemplative Inquiry Prompts

To verify and deepen this realization for yourself, here are some direct inquiry exercises in addition to Greg Goode’s Direct Path book. I also could not recommend enough, Brian O’Connor’s book, Awareness Games: Playing With Your Mind To Create Joy. It has exercises and prompts that subtly dissolved my own association with solidity.

These contemplative prompts are meant to guide you to experientially see through the illusion of being “in” the body. One or more of these may resonate deeper than the others:

* Point of View Experiment: Close your eyes and notice the sense of being located somewhere in your head. Gently inquire: Where exactly is the observer? Can you find a clear boundary or point inside the skull where “you” reside, or only thoughts, images, and sensations appearing to awareness? If you are still convinced you’re there in the head, how small are you?

* Hearing as an All-Directional Field: Listen to sounds around you (a bird, a car passing). Notice the sounds simply arise in awareness without traveling from a place outside to a listener inside. Ask yourself: Is awareness boxed into a head listening, or are sounds occurring in a boundless aware space?

* Body Sensations in Awareness: Bring attention to bodily sensations (pressure on the chair, the chest rising and falling). Instead of assuming these sensations mark the edges of “you,” observe them as events within your awareness. Are you inside those sensations, or are they sensations inside your awareness? Do they enclose awareness in any way, or do they come and go in the open space of knowing?

* Exploring “Inside” vs “Outside”: Gaze at an object in the room. Where is seeing happening? Is there actually an “inside” self looking out at the object, or is the object, the light, and the entire experience of seeing appearing within consciousness at large? Can you find a line separating an inner viewer from the seen, or is it all one continuum of experience in awareness?

* The Waking Dream Check: Recall that in nighttime dreams you also feel located in a body within the dream world—until you wake up and realize it was all in your mind. Now, ponder: In the waking state, could the feeling of “me inside body, looking at world” likewise be an appearance in the mind of God (awareness)? Allow yourself to “wake up” to the possibility that right now, everything — your body, thoughts, and world — is unfolding within the infinite dream of awareness, which is what you are.

It’s as if life finally picked you up by the scruff of your neck like a lioness does her cub, not to punish you, not to abandon you, but to deliver you back to the very place you never left. And suddenly, with no trumpets, no neon lights, no sense of achievement, you realize: you’ve never driven one single day of your life. And weirdly, it’s not terrifying—it’s delicious.

Now, every event becomes its own generator.Every itch, its own scratch.Every mistake, its own lesson.Every gift—given by the Self, to the Self.And even the gift is the Self, …appearing as a gift.

You stop cataloging emotions into “good” and “bad.” Grief arrives and you don’t brace. Joy rises and you don’t cling. Like the sun shines, and the rain pours, the hurricane slashes through the city ripping houses apart, lifting swimming pools and sheds, each emotional state appears, pours, and dissolves. No editorializing. Just weather.

You don’t say, I am breathing. Breath is just happening.You don’t say, I must respond. Speech simply emerges.Thoughts are heard like background birdsong—chirping, changing, never really belonging to …you.

The body is no longer a vessel you manage.It is the earth, tasting itself from inside.Oh, sensations, cravings, physical pain. Who would be the one to own them?A ribcage expanding is the mountain range stretching.A heartbeat thudding is thunder beneath your skin.

The personality becomes impersonal.A choreography of tendencies arising from who-knows-where.Decisions are no longer squeezed out of you. They come to your table like a waiter placing food on a table that you didn’t order from—but it’s always exactly what you’re hungry for(even if you aren’t aware).

You find yourself laughing in the middle of a conflict, not because you’re aloof, but because the seriousness you used to wear like armor doesn’t fit anymore.

You watch a friend misunderstand you completely, and instead of clenching butt cheeks, scrambling to correct them, something in you bows—this too is allowed. Misunderstanding is part of the show. Oh, friendships! Friendships develop out of nowhere. And friendships dissolve, the way they were formed.

The chicken and the egg? Irrelevant.The chicken came first as well as the egg. The way they came next. And came again together, the first being last and the last being first.It doesn’t need to make sense—it all is seen as perfection, and that’s enough.

Strive to be present! Strive to be present? You no longer strive to be present. You’re not "being present"—you are presence. Silence is no longer a state to enter. It’s the room you never left, the foundation that all of sound, form and objects were built on top of.

Even effort(and efforting) is allowed, but it’s like a child dressing up in adult clothes—playful, not desperate. It’s like finally letting go of the steering wheel only to realize the car was never moving. The scenery? Projected. The driver? Imagined. And the road? Home all along.

That’s what it feels like. So darn surrendered. So darn free.

Summary:

In this introspective episode, Seye Kuyinu explores the radical proposition of letting go—not just of beliefs and concepts, but even of religion and spirituality themselves. Rooted in a recent Substack post and a private conversation with a friend, this reflection invites you to examine the hidden attachments beneath their most sacred practices.

Rather than attack belief systems, Seye challenges the over-identification with them—suggesting that true freedom does not lie in clinging to spiritual tools but in recognizing their impermanence and utility. The goal is not nihilism. It is awakening to direct experience and the ever-present awareness that underlies all things.

Key Themes:

* Holding on vs. letting go — We often cling to spiritual or religious frameworks out of fear and perceived safety.

* Spirituality as utility — Practices are useful, but not ultimate. Mistaking the “fork” for the “food” leads to spiritual distraction.

* Direct experience as primary — The core of truth lies in immediate awareness, not concepts.

* Paradox of teaching — Even this very message is an idea to be let go of.

* Self-awareness — The real is not religion, thought, or ritual, but the direct knowing of experience itself.

Quotable Moments:

* "Safety can never and will never be found in anything that's outside of ourselves."

* "Imagine being more interested in a fork than the food you are eating."

* "When we are so present, concepts are just thoughts—they have no independent reality."

* "What is real is the self. Or in more spiritual lingo—what is real is God."

Mentioned:

* Seye’s Substack: Check out the essays

* Practices mentioned: meditation, prayer, scripture reflection

Links:

* Seye Kuyinu on Substack

* More about Seye’s work

Just this week, scrolling on Tiktok, I watched in sadness as a woman recounted her unraveling in tears. At 57, she had lost everything: her house, her savings, the career she’d built over decades— all happened in the last 3 years. Her voice cracked with the raw bewilderment of someone who had followed all the rules and still ended up with nothing. She wasn’t like soliciting for pity or help or anything. She was intending to document the rawness of her dire situation instead of waiting till she came out of it to share with her followers. If you’re like me, the comment visitor, I went to the comments to assess people’s thoughts. This was even sadder to experience. There were comments like, “55 here, broke.” “Same.” “Exhausted my retirement, too.” The weird resonance was immediate and haunting. In a way it was as though we were watching our own lives unravel, pre-lived on screen. Well, at least that was one story this mind came to. There’s something uniquely disorienting about witnessing another’s collapse when you’ve lived your life believing in a kind of earned immunity. We silently think: “If I work hard, save, follow the steps, I will be okay.” But what happens when someone does all that and still finds themselves emptied out? And this could be even in an investment in a relationship, a project, a child etc. In hearing stories like this, it’s not uncommon to switch from empathy to panic. The mind may begin to ask: What if that were me? What if I lose everything, too? What if I’m already on the path and just don’t know it yet? It’s astonishing how swiftly the psyche transitions from witnessing to personalizing. The experience is no longer hers; it becomes ours. Not in solidarity, but in fear. There is a vulnerability beneath our skin we often ignore, until someone else’s misfortune lifts the veil.

I remember being the kind of person who would instinctively say, “God forbid” to stories like these. As if uttering the phrase could form a barrier between me and the chaos and unpredictability of life. As if those three syllables could cancel out the possibility of my possession, status or comfort. But life—honest life—doesn’t operate on magical phrases or positive mantras. And I know this is an arguable position, especially in the town hall of the law of manifestation cliques. What we forget is that life includes dissolution. The old structure falling apart is just as natural as the new one being built. The losing of some position is also as natural as gaining new positions, whatever these positions are. Sometimes both happen simultaneously.These days, I no longer reach for optimism as a shield. I don’t pretend to know what tomorrow holds. Neither I nor any self-professed prophet can tell what tomorrow is apart from the clear understanding of the cyclical nature of life. But you see, there’s a strange freedom in understanding this. There’s a falling into deep surrender seeing the wisdom in this. And no, this is not a nihilistic surrender. It’s a kind of sacred openness. You see, if we can no longer rely on predictions, we are invited to rely on presence. That’s where the deeper trust begins—not the kind rooted in circumstances going our way, but the kind that holds even when they don’t. Oh, how can we, instead of laying our future tents of hope— our tents filled with the expectation that everything good that we plan for and hope for will happen to us, instead of holding on to this, could we instead hold on to the knowing that despite what happens to us, we are fine. It would be naïve to say this trust comes easily. It doesn’t. I type this, I say this, I preach this, I have said this to people countless times and I still know it doesn’t come easily. In the tough situations where I’m encountered with loss, remembering this becomes the actual mantra. It demands the abandonment of safety as we’ve traditionally defined it. Safety, for most of us, has been tied to the material: homes, jobs, retirement accounts, identity markers. But those can vanish and will vanish one way or the other. Sometimes overnight. But then, let’s slow down and investigate this one thing: what remains when these things vanish? To find the answer, we have to go beyond the narrative of personal protection and touch something prior to the mind’s stories. There’s a kind of peace not born of having our ducks in a row, but of seeing that even if they scatter, something is still intact. Untouched. Unborn. A presence that was never dependent on outcomes in the first place. This is not the kind of thing we can conceptualize once and be done with. At least, it hasn’t been like that for me. It’s a practice. A continual unlearning. Every time I forget and begin identifying with this finite body and fragile identity, I suffer. The world tightens. The walls close in. The "I" contracts into its smallest form. And I mistake that constriction for reality. But when I remember—really remember—that what I am is not the story playing out but the space in which the story arises, everything softens. We are not separate drops in the ocean, said Rumi, but the ocean in a drop. Yet we spend most of our lives building borders between ourselves and the ocean of life. Borders that whisper lies about control. About permanence. About being able to outsmart uncertainty. We create entire models of self and universe on the assumption that we are the exception. Catastrophe visits others. Until, of course, it doesn’t.

See, the invitation I’m offering here isn’t to armor ourselves better. That would be the foolish game we have culturally erred towards. Perhaps it’s instead to disarm entirely. Not with recklessness, but with reverence. To stop trying to guarantee the future, and instead become intimate with the moment. Not to be passive, but to become rooted in something deeper than our plans. There’s a kind of rest available when we stop defending against life and allow ourselves to be held by it. Not because everything is figured out, but because we see that nothing needs to be. The body rests. The mind rests. And into that rest, a deeper question may arise that brings even more clarity: Who am I, really, without all these layers?If we follow that question—not intellectually, but experientially—we may see that what we are is not fragile. That life, in all its wild unfolding, doesn’t need our constant supervision. In that place, trust is no longer something we manufacture; it is revealed. Quiet, unshakeable, vast.Like in Rumi’s meditation, A Small Green Island(see below), we can learn of the imploration to the white cow. Like the white cow, we need to remember that the grass grows overnight. We need not make ourselves miserable by the fluctuations of the field. And this is not me trying to instigate laziness. It’s an alignment. It’s the recognition that the true Self—the one watching, witnessing, aware—has always been held, always been whole, even as the structures of life rise and fall.Now, what if it all does fall away? That isn’t a question to fear. It’s a doorway. Do you see the doorway? Can you enter it?

A Small Green Island by Rumi

There is a small green island

Cont…

Episode Summary:Seye shares a deeply personal story of being struck in a hit-and-run accident on December 24, 1998. What began as trauma unfolds into a powerful exploration of consciousness, the nature of the Self, and the mystery at the heart of suffering. Through reflections on Ramana Maharshi, Rumi, Carl Jung, and David Hawkins, this episode investigates how intense pain can become a gateway to a deeper awareness—one that witnesses everything but remains untouched.

Topics Covered:

The surreal stillness within trauma"Seeing yourself seeing yourself" – an early glimpse into non-dual awarenessChildhood recollections and mystical insightWhat is the Self? Why we miss it David Hawkins' “slit-window” method of detaching from contentAwareness as the unchanging background to all lifeThe joy of recognizing the illusion of separationLife as divine play, beyond nihilism

Key Quotes:

“The Self is what is looking for itself.”“What flickers cannot be the Real.”“This seeing of one’s self by one’s self is what I believe could happen in intense suffering.”“You can’t find it—because you are it.”“This character called Seye—they’re just masks the Divine wears to play with Itself.”

References: Dr. David Hawkins, The Eye of the I

Closing Thought:The moment that broke the body revealed what cannot be broken—an ever-present stillness beneath all change. What we are never arrived and can never leave. It simply is.

Episode Summary:In this episode, we explore the transformative power of presence—how truly seeing each moment allows us to recognize the divine in all things. Life’s circumstances, whether joyful or challenging, are not separate from the sacred but expressions of it. When we cultivate stillness and open our eyes, we begin to perceive reality not as fixed and solid, but as a fluid Mystery unfolding before us.

Key Topics:

* The practice of coming to presence and what it means to truly see.

* How every situation—whether beautiful or chaotic—is an expression of the divine.

* The shift that happens when we view life through this lens.

* Reality as pure Mystery: moving beyond fixed perceptions.

* The deep peace that arises when we no longer resist what is.

* Seeing every mundane activity as devotion to the divine—this is Bhakti!

Notable Quote:“And in that bowing, there is a paradoxical discovery: We are not diminishing ourselves; we are expanding beyond the boundaries of self. We are not losing; we are dissolving into something vaster. And so, the driver who cuts me off—this small, trivial disturbance—becomes a doorway. Not to patience, not to moral superiority. No, no, no! Hell no! It’s not that! It’s instead, the recognition that there was never a ‘me’ apart from it. Only this. Only now. Only what has always been, wearing every face imaginable.

Even this is Its face.”

Reflection Question:Where in your life can you soften your perception and see the divine revealing itself?

Connect & Subscribe:

* Follow the podcast for more episodes exploring presence, contemplation, and the Mystery of existence.

* Share your thoughts or experiences—reach out or follow me on https://seyekuyinu.substack.com.

🕊️ Episode SummaryIn this episode, I explore the nature of surrender as a shift in perception, a turning toward the source of all seeing. Inspired by a post from Philip Atter, I examine how modern coaching and therapy often focus on changing thoughts, whereas a deeper transformation, if you will, arises from embodying the source from which thoughts emerge. Looks like a lot of words that mean nothing till we go directly to the experience of it. Through reflection and guided meditation, we can explore the space of this awareness, the ever-present stillness behind all experience.

🔹 Topics Covered:

* The illusion of control and the nature of surrender

* How thoughts appear and disappear like clouds in the sky

* The direct experience of reality beyond the mind

* Awareness as the unchanging witness to all sensations and perceptions

* A 10-minute meditation to explore and rest in awareness

🔹 Mentioned in This Episode:

* Philip Attar’s Instagram Post

* The "hard problem of consciousness" and its relation to direct experience. You can explore more on that here. https://iep.utm.edu/hard-problem-of-conciousness/#:~:text=The%20hard%20problem%20of%20consciousness%20is%20the%20problem%20of%20explaining,directly%20appear%20to%20the%20subject.

🎧 Listen Now & Dive In:Whether you’re walking, painting, or simply resting, allow yourself to listen from a space beyond intellectual analysis—one that invites direct seeing. It would be less helpful listening to this while doing something active…like driving.

🧘🏽‍♂️ Guided Meditation (Starts at [00:19:55])This episode concludes with a meditation designed to help you experience awareness as awareness itself. If you’d like to skip directly to that, jump to [Timestamp].

💌 Show Notes & Resources:

* Philip Atter’s Instagram: Philip Attar

* Other contemplative audios and writings from Seye Kuyinu: https://seyekuyinu.substack.com/t/contemplations

📢 Let’s Connect

* Subscribe & Leave a Review: Your thoughts and reflections help others discover this podcast.

* Share Your Experience: What did you notice during the meditation? DM me or reply to my latest post.

🌿 Grace and peace be on you.

What if the weight of responsibility we feel in adulthood is just a box of our investment in a future or a past that we would rather control. What if being cared for isn’t something we have to earn, but something already happening—something we simply need to see? In this episode, I explore how our attachment to future thinking and past burdens keeps us from experiencing the effortless care that life provides. This reflection inspires me to see what’s already given— what already is the case. Through the lens of childhood, a saying attributed to the Jesus’ of the Christian bible, and direct experience, I talk about and invite one to consider what it means to truly let go and be held.

Key Takeaways:

* Adulthood vs. Childhood: The longing to be a child again is often a longing to be free from the burden of constant future-oriented thinking. Responsibility isn’t just about tasks—it’s about where we place our attention.

* Three Layers of Experience: Whether as children or adults, we all experience:

* Mind – the thoughts that arise

* Activity – the things we do

* Self – the unchanging awareness behind it allThe last one, the experience of Self, is always present. When we recognize it, we return to something effortless and childlike.

* Returning to our childlike state: Jesus’ words—"Unless you become like little children, you cannot enter the kingdom of heaven"—aren’t about a place but a state of being. The kingdom is here, now. It is who we are.

* Trusting the Care of the Universe as the Parents: Just as birds do not worry about tomorrow yet are cared for, we too are held by something much greater than our personal effort. Returning to childlike presence allows us to see this care in real-time.

Connect with Me:

Let me know your thoughts—I’d love to hear from you.

* https://seyekuyinu.substack.com

* https://instagram.com/seyekuyinu