When I’m sane I am…
Experiencing what IS.
Present.
Living in the here and now.
In touch with what’s actually happening (as opposed to what I think is happening or did happen or will happen or should happen).
When I’m insane I am…
Experiencing what ISN’T.
Not present.
Lost in a dreamworld of my own imagination.
So convinced of what I’m thinking and believing that I’m out of touch with what is.
By this definition, I spend most of my life insane. And it’s nothing to worry about, it’s just something to recognize.
In order to live life as a human being, I have to believe thoughts of things that aren’t happening (like a past, a future, or stories of present events I’m not experiencing first-hand). There’s no way to navigate “life” without employing my imagination.
But if I think those thoughts are reality, that’s where I get into trouble. It’s where ALL trouble is, where ALL suffering comes from: innocent belief in what ISN’T.
Most of my life is spent in this confusion. That’s just being human.
And it’s completely fine because insanity is always temporary. It’s always leaving me (when I’m perfectly present in what’s happening, for instance, or when I fall into dreamless sleep). What is, is undeniable (that’s why it hurts to oppose it). Soon I wear out and stop opposing it. And when I do, I’m sane again. That’s the kindness of the universe at work.
I move through the world believing my thoughts, and when I want to return to sanity, I question them. And when I do, the perfectly kind and peaceful reality that exists aside from any thought I have about it is right there waiting, as it always has been.
It’s always there.
It’s always waiting.
All I have to do is release my attachment to everything that’s not happening and live in what is.
Everything without an imagination - like a rock or a tree or a water molecule - does this naturally. That’s why nothing without an imagination ever suffers. The rest of us just need a little time to catch up to the difference between imagination and reality.
And when I do, I am sane. And the result of my sanity is always perfect peace. That’s how I know the difference.
It happens to me a hundred times a day. And every time I can drop my story and live in the beautiful gift of what is, I get to meet the kind and peaceful universe all over again.
“But what about the terrible things that have happened? That are happening now over there? That will happen?!”
Yeah: my mind really clings to its story, doesn’t it? Well, what about those things? Let’s look at them. Are those images in my head real or imagination? (Not, “Do they represent something real,” are the images themselves the real thing?)