Mirror, mirror on the wall

Seeing my reflection in a mirror I ask, “Is this me?” Is “me” the body, or is it “my” body? Is “me” the name my parents gave me? Why do I call myself me? The body belongs to me. Yet I call the body and its reflection me, though the reflection “belongs” to the body. It is not the fact of my existence. The limiting concept of “I” is a self-created nightmare. The body does not trap consciousness, like water it takes the shape of the container.
The body and thoughts, both come and go. Therefore, they cannot be defined as real. Yet, lifelong you ask the mirror (public image of you), “who’s the fairest of them all?”
Your life is a story of trying to be the best illusion in a larger illusion. How many “bests” have come and gone? Not a trace is left of sultans and kings. Which one are you? Understand mortality, or stand under it. All joy and sorrow is but a mirror reflection of our own thoughts. No object has the power to create joy, yet foolishly, lifelong, one chases different combinations of food, women and objects for joy.
You observe thoughts coming and going. Hopelessness, sorrow and depression are thoughts alone and you are trying to get rid of them; so can they be you? You know that they are other than you. Try and reach a field of total neutrality. Don’t try to kill these mental ghosts. Just drop them all. Abide in yourself. “I”, “you”, or “my reflection” are only perspectives. Don’t ride with them. Peace and contentment flow with the realisation that the “I” thought is not dead, but it never was. The “I” was the son of a barren woman. Softly glide into the wi-fi range of unlimited expansiveness, contentment, silence and well-being.
Prarthna Saran, President Chinmaya Mission Delhi. Email: prarthnasaran@gmail.com