Forgetting Self

Forgetting self:

forgetting self, or as it’s often called transcending, yet this word seems to hint at a subtle change that doesn’t quite belong here, as if it were a process and not simply a letting go, relaxing, and being who we really, always are. I guess it’s thought of as a process because it so occurs through repetition, a mantra’s soft tone silently repeated, an artist with the sureness of their brushstroke committing to the canvas, a poet with their imagery of words. It seems like action leads us here, to forgetting self, a realization of only being motion and not a solid entity at all.

that’s the true role of art, not an end result given to show, but each concentrated moment alone, fully committed for a single act and not a thought towards its completion. Quite the same with meditation, although we hold our concentration softly, easily, yet equally committed to breath or mantra. This is the art of forgetting self, of existing as the motion of the world, of simply being.

in this light, we’re all artist, and our medium is what it is we truly love to do, giving ourselves away until we’re empty of all but our devotion. It’s not complicated, occurring quite naturally, easily through our commitment. We’re already selfless, always so, with our identity only being an accumulation of beliefs. stories repeatedly told and now taken to be true and lasting. Art, in…