@Stefano Minin You are most welcome

@Janmarie Viahl xx

@Elizabeth K. xxxxxx

@David Thomas Yes… it’s a powerful reflection...indeed.... And I also fully agree — what Tolle points to is real...but not complete....When someone first realizes, even briefly, that the voice in their head isn’t who they are, something genuinely softens. It can feel like stepping half an inch back from a storm and realizing you’re not the wind. For many people, that recognition alone changes everything. But here’s what I’ve seen over and over. Most people stop there.... They hear, “You are the awareness behind the thoughts,” and very subtly they try to become that awareness. Effort creeps in. A new position forms. “I am the observer now.” And if you look closely, there’s often still a slight tightness in the chest… a quiet vigilance… as if awareness is something that needs to be maintained. Have you noticed that? The mind can appropriate even spaciousness. It can build an identity around being egoless. It can turn witnessing into something it performs. Until that reflex is seen, the mind doesn’t quiet — it upgrades its disguise. So the deeper shift isn’t just realizing you are not the thought. It’s recognizing the structural habit of identification itself — how quickly identity attaches to whatever feels stable, elevated, or safe… thinker, observer, spiritual self, even silence. When that attachment pattern loosens, something very different happens. Awareness doesn’t need to be held in place. It’s not a position. It’s not a role. It’s simply what remains when the system stops recruiting every experience into “me.” Thoughts still arise and emotions still move. But........ they’re no longer enlisted. That’s where freedom becomes very real. That's how I see this..

Love this question. I’ll answer it plainly. Yes — I’m a mystic. My relationship with the living God isn’t symbolic language for me. It’s lived. There is an intelligence that precedes thought, that orders reality with precision and depth, and I orient my life around that Presence. But I was also given a mind. And I don’t believe that was accidental. If we are created, then cognition is part of that design. Discernment. Logic. Pattern recognition. The capacity to see structure. Why would those exist if transcendence required their abandonment? What I’ve seen — in myself first — is that an untrained mind doesn’t make you more mystical. It makes you porous. It drifts. It romanticizes. It confuses intensity with depth. It creates subtle interference right at the edge of expansion. And then when awareness collapses back into old identity patterns, we call it “the state fading.” Most of the time, it didn’t fade. The structure underneath wasn’t coherent enough to sustain it. Mystical experiences expand perception. But if your underlying identity premises are untouched — your fears, your compensations, your need to be special or chosen — the system recalibrates back to its baseline. You visit transcendence, then return to the same relational reactions, the same emotional triggers, the same self-concept. And here’s the uncomfortable part: sometimes people use “mystic” as an identity shield. It can quietly protect them from structure. From discipline. From examining the architecture of their own thinking. I’ve had to face that in myself. Structure isn’t the opposite of mysticism. It’s what prevents self-deception. When I read ancient texts carefully, I don’t see randomness. I see coherence at a level most modern writing can’t sustain. The Bible is layered, recursive, architected across centuries. Symbol nested inside symbol. Narrative arcs that mirror each other across time. That is not chaotic inspiration. That is higher-order intelligence expressed through language.

@Ni Om Good question. Its the field of infinite potentiality which responds to your intention.. It provides a mirror. It's also a quantum law and well documented phenomenon... What you have now ia a mirror of what you unconsciously expected snd executed with precision...