Books | You Are The Illusion

Even The Silence Is A Lie

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A question-and-answer dialogue about the nature of reality. With paintings by the author.

The Nothing

"Even the silence is the one thing appearing as that. This thing that is not a thing. This no-thing. This ineffable, inconceivable thing. This thing that has no qualities, and all qualities. This is it. There is no word to describe it. And so, calling it stillness, calling it silence is ok. Calling it anything is ok. There is only the one thing. There is only the one thing appearing as everything. There is only the one thing appearing as anything. Appearing as stillness. Appearing as movement. Appearing as silence. Appearing as noise. Appearing as nothing. Appearing as everything.

Infinite freedom appearing as that. Love appearing as that. Wholeness and completeness appearing as that. You could call it everything. You could say that it has all qualities. What is being talked about is a lack of separation. What is being talked about is what is not. Not two. Not two things. What is, is inconceivable. Ineffable. It is the unknowing. Words like vastness or limitlessness are being used, not to describe what is. There is no accurate word. And these words are not descriptions. They are just beautiful words.”

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The Nothing is an illustrated, channeled text that naturally arose in a question-and-answer form as an inquiry into the nature of reality. As an exploration into the infinite absence of who I am, and so, who are you. Naturally, drawings of animals also appeared. "The Nothing" is inspired by the antagonist of the film, The NeverEnding Story, and the book begins with a question as to: What is The Nothing? In the story “The Nothing” is described as a great apathy. An embodiment of the loss of all hope, and all dreams, the absence of creativity, inspiration, and desire. In the form of a great black storm eating the landscape and devouring all life. What does this have to do with non-duality? Who is the collective being channeled? If my true nature is one of joy, one of peace, and one of love, why can’t I feel it? Why can’t the body feel it? And what about feelings? What are feelings? Who am I, truly? Is there any word good enough, accurate enough to describe it? To pinpoint it, who I truly am? And what about animals and plants? Will there be any left?