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The puzzle

If you like this video, please like and subscribe and consider donating to NKosi. https://www.paypal.com/paypalme/Nkosi... When it is cold, the heat is missed. When it is hot, the cold is missed. This oscillation seems stitched into the human condition, a quiet restlessness that turns experience against itself. Opposites arise, cancel, and reappear. The whole movement is strangely wonderful. What presents itself as challenge, deadline, pressure, or effort is not separate from what appears as ease. All of it arises without origin and without destination. It is already the expression of what is not moving, appearing as movement, left and right, up and down. Nothing actually goes anywhere. The entire display is an appearance within vastness, fleeting, cloudlike. It forms, dissolves, reforms. Even when something seems to persist, it is only a story trying to hold its shape. Stories always come and go. Nothing fleeting can be held. Even the sense of “me” is another memorized fragment, another story layered onto memory. That tool cannot hold anything real. It imagines what it cannot grasp. The imaginary self lives in an imaginary world, seeking something from it, unaware that both seeker and world are imagined. There is no separation from what is. There is only vastness appearing as separation. What seems to be recognized here is that nothing stands apart from wholeness. Nothing is trying to help anyone because no one is actually here to be helped. The separate self appears, but it does not exist as a thing. There is just this. Nothing can get it, learn it, or become it. The attempt itself is only another story. Meaning is not built in. These words do not mean anything. Meaning may be imposed, but even that imposition means nothing. Thinking that something means something does not make it so. Still, it is fine to talk. Conversation happens. Nothing is right or wrong. There is no why. Even asking why is simply this asking itself. Every movement, every sensation, every thought is already what cannot be grasped. It lacks nothing. It is already what you are. You cannot not be this. The apparent separate self is already wholeness appearing as separation. There is experience, but it belongs to no one. When looking happens, it is never for someone. It is simply what seems to happen in the story. When the story is believed, it appears to move somewhere. When it is seen as story, it is obvious that it goes nowhere. Separation exists only as thought. Even the claim of intellectual understanding is just another appearance. Nothing here understands anything. There is only completeness. This cannot be spoken or understood because it is everything. Nothing stands outside it to know it. Everything is already everything. Heat is felt. A response arises. Cooling happens. A mosquito bites. Searching for it happens. Avoidance happens. None of it is done by a someone. There is no resistance to rearranging conditions. If a car approaches, the body moves. Some things can be fixed. Some cannot. Some should not be. Motivation, greed, ambition, harm, restraint, care, all of it unfolds inside the story. The story contains puzzles. Pieces are missing. Consequences appear. Steps seem to matter. Accountability appears real. Presidents, borders, protests, suffering, power struggles, all of it is meaningful within the experience of separation. None of it means anything to what this is, because it is also this. Nothing here tries to erase the experience of separation. That too is an expression. Forgetting and remembering are both part of the play. The world may appear limited, but nothing is actually limited. Every form is taken, abandoned, and taken again. Human, animal, saint, criminal, ant, god, everything is worn and discarded. The world is as it is. It does not need fixing from the perspective of wholeness. Within the hologram, however, puzzles demand attention. Bills are paid. Patterns repeat. Subconscious forces move unseen. Spiritual insight may loosen some knots, but other knots still pull. The movie continues. Seeing the hologram as real is itself a beautiful experience. Discovering that it was never real is also beautiful. Relief arises. Pain dissolves. None of it belongs to anyone. The informationless self is untouched. Only stories suffer. Remove every piece of information called “Charles”, family, history, name, identity, and something remains that was never defined by any of it. The puzzle persists beneath the story. The hologram persists whether the character is believed or not. What remains is not a person. It is witnessing without narrative. Seeing without memory. Presence without time. It is not yesterday, today, or tomorrow. It does not need to be remembered and therefore cannot be forgotten. It is simply here. The puzzles still appear. Pieces scatter. Some are never found. Kicking them away also happens. None of it disturbs what you are.