Who are you?
We all have our own stories.
They are very detailed and very personal stories.
I am a painter, doctor, father, grandmother, wife, lover, you imagine it, is what we answer when people ask us who we are.
We do what we do because we are who we are. Walking, talking characters inside these beautifully unique stories.
Made up stories, written by our parents, grandparents, friends, lovers, heroes and culture and of course by ourselves.
We do what we do because we are what we are. But we are stories. Dream characters. Do we even have a choice doing the things we do...or is our story writing itself?
Sometimes we see a doorway in the pages of the book of our lives.
A passage through a gateless gate with on the other side an exquisite silence, an edgeless space that seems to fill us up without ever finding anything that contains us.
We are free there and happy and at peace, because it contains all there is and all that ever will be. All stories well up from that source.
Some people step through this gateless gate and abide there forever, for time does not exist there, time only exists in our stories. Some go there momentarily, when they meditate deeply and they emerge refreshed and somewhat matured.
The sound of my singing bowls can take you there as well. When the 9 different tones of the three bowls come together, the mind can only let itself go and drift away. With the mind floating on the primordial vibrations that make up our reality, you rest in the vast silence from which the sound is born. You might even realize you 'are' this silence and it was you all along giving birth to these stories, making them your own again once more, but without being the story anymore.
You are the world and the world is in you.
When you sing, you sing your world into existence. Like the song of the singing bowls carried you away from the dream. Ingmar
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