If we accept as an axiom that the surrounding reality is a product of consciousness and sensations, and that the conscious (aware) component is unconditional, then for any reality to become fully real, it must first be perceived (realized).
Everything that can make up reality – happens. All the components of reality – occur. All of them are momentary. In the world of reality (in the “real”) world, there is nothing permanent, no constant except for one element that is always present – ourselves, or rather, the conscious part of us. Since all the other elements of reality, which our being perceives (except for our personality), are impermanent, it would be highly strange to build happiness on these quantities. Otherwise, we would have to worry about the sources of happiness (?) running out. Truly, is this even possible? Life would then turn into a “chase” not for happiness, but for its “imaginary sources.” Not to mention that the sensation provided by these sources can, at best, be called pleasures. Precisely because all of them are temporary.
Therefore, the only source of happiness can be the only constant in any reality of a person’s life – the conscious part of their own personality. Let go of the past – it has already been lived. Let go of the present – another magical present will come. Don’t chase the future – it will never arrive. And when it does, it will already be the present.
Enjoy the moment, each of which is unique… Each moment is like a precious diamond. Each one is colored by its own hue… An endless number of colors that never repeat.
Each moment is an amazing bouquet of pictures, sounds, external and internal sensations, feelings, temperatures, touches… Scents… Suddenly, I turned into a sensation. And my “I” was lost in the endless flow of the Universe… Everything fell into place.
Perhaps this is what it means – to love oneself. To watch the mind flitting with questions, doubts, and fears. To laugh at it. To break through the thick underbrush of questions, doubts, and fears. What surrounds me and protects me in this “not our” war? Only the realization that I, too, will die one day. And in this realization, there is nothing tragic. It is merely an awareness of the temporality of time. And the meaning of timelessness, into which I return when I unexpectedly find myself amidst questions, doubts, and fears. Timelessness of the mind is the moment of life that is the only truth. The moment of life at the center of questions, doubts, and fears, where I am not. There is only the charm of the freshness of the leaves of this impenetrable thicket. The intoxicating scent of magical, otherworldly flowers.
To love oneself means to rejoice in every manifestation of life within oneself, to live every impulse of life with love and gratitude.