The sense of separation is the seed of it and fear is the fruit of it. You’ll see through it by seeing it through.
As the ego is crumbling away a sense of solitude escalates. The illusion turns even more vivid and poor little me feels totally isolated, unappreciated, misunderstood, abandoned, misjudged, lonely and separate.
—If they only saw what I can see. If they only had the wherewithal to look within like I do. Etc.
The truth doesn’t hurt. The truth never hurts. What hurts is that there is nothing in it for me. The truth won’t validate or cater for me in any way whatsoever.
The price of the truth is the loss of the illusion of me (in the truth vis-a-vis youse).
It ain’t easy and it ain’t pleasant. I stands to lose every thing and every body.