The Singularity of the Self

We are so used to looking outward. Someone says something, someone does something, someone looks at us in a certain way, and before we know it we are already busy with them. Why did they say that? Why are they like that? Why does this always happen to me?

It is almost funny how quickly the mind creates a whole little theatre.

But what if the most interesting part is not the person in front of you, but what happens in you while you are looking at them?

A face, a voice, a message on your phone, a doctor’s appointment, a family member, the news, even someone who drives too slowly in front of you… all of it can become a mirror. Not because the other person is unreal or unimportant, but because everything you meet touches something in you.

And then there is really only one question worth asking: what do I feel now?

Love or fear?

Fear does not always look like fear. Sometimes it looks like irritation, sadness, anger, guilt, disappointment, worry or even illness. It can wear many coats. Very fashionable, fear.

Love is quieter. It does not need to defend itself all the time.

This is where the idea of Singularity becomes interesting to me. Beneath all the different people, stories, opinions and events there is one field of awareness in which everything appears. Ruppert Spira calls this Pristine Awareness. ACIM speaks of One Self. Different words perhaps, but they point toward something simple: before all the stories, before all the identities, before “me” and “you,” there is Awareness itself.

And every encounter gives us a little clue about what is moving inside us.

So instead of asking only, “What is wrong with them?” we might sometimes ask, “What is this showing me?”

That small shift changes a lot.

The world then becomes less of a courtroom and more of a classroom.

And perhaps that is the real beauty of Singularity: not that everyone disappears into some vague spiritual soup, but that everything becomes part of one movement of Awareness, gently revealing where fear is still asking to be seen and where love is already present.

Sometimes the person who irritates us most is simply holding up the mirror at a very inconvenient angle.

Useful though.

Annoying, but useful.

With love and light,

G.