Our Buddha-nature is like a belt so well-fitting that we forget we're wearing one. A Buddha is simply someone who remembers and rejoices in the fact that he's wearing such a well-fitting belt.
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But sometimes the suit feels so distinctly other than the awareness aware-ing it. Like this whole identity is as disposable as a plastic raincoat.
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Indeed—but is it not just a way for the awareness to remember itself, through a contrast expressing an implicit sameness via explicit otherness?
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An odd way to remember itself through lifetimes of forgetting, eh? 😏🏴☠️
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Odd way indeed—were it even, how difficult would it be to notice and remember! 😉
Something has to stick out—be odd—in order for the background to be recognized. If there was no difference in the first place, there would also be no consciousness of anything at all:
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