You insist on relating to your little being, trying to improve it, following the psychoanalytic thesis that when you understand all the unconsciousness of your little being, you will become more conscious. This is a bedtime story.

With the firm decision to see what is being pointed out, you exchange one thing for another. Immediately, he exchanges the small being for the true one and, furthermore, realizes that where his original nature rests there is neither this nor that.

When you see yourself as the true being there is no other. Any division is a return to your small being, a return to the small human tragicomedy, the small divine drama. You establish your drama by drawing this or that, “me” and “other”, black and white, blue and yellow, top and bottom, left and right.

Return to that place where there is neither. In its original nature there is neither this nor that. What you are has no likes or dislikes. That's why there is compassion. The door of compassion is not an exercise of the small being, it is the reality of your supreme being, it is the song of silence.

Reinforcement: let's not make the supreme being, what it is, a remote and future possibility. The supreme being is right here, right now. Just don't be confused by what is seen.