That Feeling of Unity

That Feeling of Unity

We compare the ‘what is’ with the “what could be,” and we desire to escape into the “what could be.” We “could” feel a sense of unity with all things—but we don’t, and that is ‘what is.’ If we can remain with that feeling of disunity, fully abide with it, what becomes of that disunity? When “disunity” is no longer held out at arm’s length as something which is preferably apart from “oneself”—as an undesirable object which is regarded by the dissatisfied subject—there is a complete unity with it. When there is complete unity between the observer and that which is observed, such things cease to exist as an entity of concern. And in the absence of disunity, unity is all that can remain.

To give attention to the ‘what is’—the feeling of disunity— is to cease comparing the ‘what is’ with the “what could be.” Where there is no comparison, we face and deal with the actuality; there is no continuity of the “problem.” The divisive desires of the self evaporate in the light of direct attention.

There is not anything to be gained in the feeling of a “state” of unity. For the feeling of a particular state of unity to be maintained, continuously, it would necessarily need to be maintained within the separate consciousness of the self. Any recognition of such a state would be as the result of a memorable comparison. The desire to seek and achieve a sense, or feeling, of unity can be traced to the self’s desire for “transcendent” experience. The self desires to possess a transcendent “experience,” without itself risking total unification in transcendence. The

idea that the self can attain (and maintain) transcendent unity is a gaining idea. In that which, by definition, lifts one to a state beyond comparison—completely transcendent unity—there could be nothing to gain. Unity can never be anything more than a state of comparison, and comparison is the specialty of the fragmented self.