The Country of Consciousness

Consciousness is this before thought and in the world of afterthought is like the unconditional love a mother shows to her newborn butterfly.

But to be conditioned to believe this love is for another and not my very nature, and this consciousness is a product of the brain

and not that amplification of awareness reflected in consciousness, is to be expected in a world of memory.


I was talking consciousness before being detoured by the mind—love is what I am as now is when I am as here is where I am

as consciousness is who I am if I am That. For consciousness is not expanding as much as thought is shrinking but it feels that way.

Listen, if the world is love being filtered by a world of thought, does the fire come from wood or that within the wood?