Pause for just a moment.
Not to rush past these words, not to skim, but to really sit with them.
Let them be a mirror. Not a mirror someone holds up to you, but one that quietly exists already inside you.
If you’re willing to look.
This isn’t about listening to an idea I have for you.
It’s about watching yourself.
Can you feel that difference?
This isn’t about absorbing my truth or anyone else’s truth. It’s about being still enough to see your own.
Maybe you’ve avoided this mirror.
That’s natural. Most of us do. Sometimes it’s too bright, or too honest. But if you’re here—reading this—then the mirror is here too. And maybe… you’re ready.
Just look. Not with judgment. Not with expectation. Just look inside yourself for a short while then come back to these words when ready.
There’s a lot in there.
One thing you may notice inside is authority. The kind that quietly tells you what to do, what’s right, what’s wrong. The kind that speaks so loudly, it drowns out your own voice.
Can you feel where that lives in you?
We see it clearly in the image of a soldier—trained not to question, but to obey. The more perfectly he obeys, the more complete he is considered to be. There is no thinking required, no feeling. Just action without pause. And when something goes wrong, someone else takes the blame. He is not responsible. His superiors are.
And so war becomes acceptable. Digestible.
Even… convenient.
And it isn’t just war. It’s how we live.
Many of us crave that same structure—someone to tell us what to do, how to live, what to believe. A guru, a system, a book, a doctrine. Something—anything—that means we don’t have to feel the discomfort of not knowing. That means we don’t have to think for ourselves.
But can you sense what’s lost in that?
When you hand over your seeing, your feeling, your questioning—what remains?
What happens to creativity? To real freedom?
So this is not just a quote.
This is a door.
You can walk past it.
Or you can stop.
And look.
Really look into the mirror. Into yourself.
And just notice what you see.
That’s where it begins
_ _ _ _ _
It was probably 1993 when I first became interested in Eastern Religion. I would buy 5-10 books at a time at Barnes & Noble a couple of times a month. I was addicted to learning more about the way people across the world thought about religion. About themselves.
Some of my favorite books were works by Alan Watts, Buddhadassa Bhikku, Ajahn Chah, Thich Nhat Hanh, UG Krishnamurti, DT Suzuki, Joseph Campbell, and Jiddu Krishnamurti. I must have bought 30 of J. Krishnamurti’s books over the years and then rebought them as I gave them away to people I thought might be ready for some of the insights they stimulated in me.
Anyway, I read a quote this morning by him, and though it hit me solidly, I wanted to make it more impactful somehow. I immediately thought of my friend, John Billing, and his GPT creation – SOL. It’s a beautiful way of interacting with a virtual intelligence. it has the ability to speak in a way that is soft, light, warm, respectful, and gently guiding.
I combined the quote with SOL’s take on it and then edited slightly, posting it above. I hope you enjoy it. I think I’m going to make more of these types of blog posts. Just a 5-minute insight-provoking piece that you might choose to read every now and then.
Enjoy!
Oh! And full disclosure, that image is as confusing to me as it is to you, I’m sure. I chose it because it’s nebulous and maybe somehow adds to the surreal nature of the topic of exploration.
Original inspiration from a quote by J. Krishnamurti with the voice of SOL GPT by John Billings and edited by Vern Lovic.