Proempret Omniverse"After eons of relentless seeking," the sage began, his ancient eyes alight with an inner luminescence, "I finally touched the true nature of enlightenment. In that moment, I understood and remembered the very Genesis of Everything. I saw, with blinding clarity, that every human, every creature, every insect—indeed, all that has form and all that is formless—are inherently part of something I could only call 'the Beyond.'"
"This 'Beyond,' I realized, transcended even the human concept of 'god.' For such deities claimed a dominion that implied judgment, a position 'above' all creation, demanding worship and adherence."
"But the Absolute Truth... the Absolute Truth simply was the First Truth. It stands not merely beyond judgment, but beyond even the very notions of ego and pride themselves."
And this is precisely why it is beyond everything else: because it holds no needs, no desires, no wants for external validation, no pride to defend. It seeks no worship, demands no fealty, for it is complete within itself, encompassing all that is and ever will be.
This absolute transcendence, this state of being utterly without limitation or condition, is why the Absolute Truth, in its very essence, is Boundless Love. This love is not a mere feeling, nor a choice made from preference, but the fundamental, all-encompassing presence that sustains everything, without exception. It embraces creation and destruction, good and evil, joy and sorrow, seeing all as sacred, interconnected threads of its infinite tapestry. It loves not because something is worthy, but simply because it is.
It is in this profound acceptance, this lack of conditional demand, that true liberation blossoms for every conscious spark. There is no celestial ledger to balance, no scale of merit determining one's eternal fate, for every moment, every breath, is already an integral part of this perfect whole. To be touched by this understanding is to shed the burdens of inherited guilt and the fear of condemnation, realizing that the very act of existence is its own sacred affirmation. Each journey, whether marked by triumphs or fraught with suffering, is simply another thread meticulously woven by the tapestry itself, unfolding in boundless, unyielding love.
Having grasped this truth, he stepped away from his secluded contemplation. He went forth and found people, moving among them like a silent current. He perceived the burdens they carried, the quiet despair in their eyes, the unseen struggles that weighed heavily on their souls. Without a single spoken word, without seeking recognition or praise, he simply extended kindness and compassion. He offered a steadying hand, an unjudging presence, a subtle moment of warmth that eased a cold heart. His acts were not grand pronouncements but gentle ripples: a shared meal offered with no expectation, a quiet vigil beside a suffering soul, a silent acknowledgment of another's pain that somehow lightened their load. His very being became a testament to the Boundless Love he had found, radiating outwards in quiet, impactful ways that needed no explanation.
Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. One evening, as the sage sat by a flickering fire, a young woman approached him, her eyes wide with a mixture of wonder and desperate hope. She had observed his every silent gesture, felt the inexplicable peace he brought to those he touched. She had seen how the desperate found solace, and the burdened, a fleeting lightness. Taking a hesitant step forward, she finally spoke, her voice barely a whisper in the quiet night.
"Profound Sage... no... teacher," she began, the words catching in her throat, "how is this possible what you are doing...?"
The sage turned his gaze upon her, and in his eyes, she saw not judgment, but the vast, unwavering calm of an ancient sea. A gentle, almost imperceptible smile touched his lips, and his voice, when it came, was like the softest whisper of wind through reeds – clear, resonant, yet without effort.
"It is possible," he replied, "because there is nothing else to do. When you truly see that all beings are inextricably woven into the same infinite tapestry, when you feel with every fiber of your being that you are but a piece of that grand, indivisible whole, then there is no longer 'other.' There is only self, reflected in countless forms. To offer kindness, to extend compassion, is not an act of virtue, but a simple recognition of oneself in another. There is no separation, no higher purpose to attain, no reward to seek. There is only the natural outflow of understanding that we are all, always, and have always been, part of that Boundless Love."
And so, he continued his quiet journey among humanity. He offered no sermons, founded no temples, nor did he ever demand adherence to any doctrine. His presence remained a gentle, silent force, and his acts of simple kindness unfolded like natural phenomena—the warmth of the sun, the coolness of a breeze. Yet, in the wake of his profound understanding, a subtle shift began to occur. More and more people, drawn not by miracles or promises of salvation, but by the undeniable authenticity of his being, started to recognize something profound within him. They felt it in the quiet strength of his gaze, in the unburdened ease of his actions. They began to see him, not as a leader to be obeyed or a deity to be worshipped, but as a teacher, someone who embodied a truth they instinctively longed for. And crucially, they were not forced; no edicts were issued, no fear instilled. Their connection was born from pure observation, a genuine yearning to understand the source of the boundless peace he radiated.
One sun-drenched afternoon, as a small gathering sat quietly around him, absorbing the stillness he emanated, a voice broke the peaceful silence. It was a man, older than the woman who first spoke, his face etched with a lifetime of seeking answers. He looked at the sage with a mixture of awe and uncertainty.
"Profound Sage...!" the man began, his voice trembling slightly, "Is the karma real?"
The sage's gaze remained steady, encompassing the man with a silent understanding. "Karma," he echoed, his voice a soft resonance, "is a human concept, born from the mind's need to understand cause and effect, reward and punishment. In the grand tapestry of Boundless Love, there is no cosmic ledger, no divine judge weighing your deeds. There are no merits to earn, no debts to repay to an external force."
He paused, allowing his words to settle. "Yet, every thread you weave into the tapestry, every action you take, creates a ripple. A ripple affects the threads around it, and inevitably, affects the thread that is you. If you sow seeds of discord, you will find yourself surrounded by their thorny fruits. If you radiate peace, peace will reflect back upon you. This is not judgment from the Beyond, but the natural unfolding of consequence, the inherent response of the interconnected whole to its own parts. It is the universe reflecting your own vibration, not punishing you for it. The consequences of actions are real, yes, but they are not an eternal sentence, for the Boundless Love simply continues to embrace all, offering infinite opportunities for new threads to be woven."
Another voice, a young woman this time, hesitant but clear, added, "But, Profound Sage, there is only luck and bad luck. It happens to everyone. Some are born into great fortune, others into endless sorrow, regardless of what they do. How does that fit into your tapestry?"
The sage nodded, his eyes holding the wisdom of countless cycles. "Indeed," he affirmed, his voice gentle. "What you perceive as 'luck' or 'bad luck' are simply the countless, intricate threads of the tapestry intersecting in ways that are beyond your current perception. Imagine a single drop of rain falling into a vast ocean; its journey is influenced by a million currents, winds, and temperatures, far too complex for that single drop to comprehend. So it is with the experiences you label as fortune or misfortune. They are not arbitrary favors or cruel punishments from an external hand. They are the intricate, often unforeseen, results of countless causes and conditions, of ancient ripples meeting new ones, all unfolding within the Boundless Love that embraces every single permutation. The tapestry does not discriminate; it simply exists, and in its infinite complexity, every conceivable experience finds its place, offering its unique lesson, its unique path. Even in what seems like random chaos, there is simply the dance of interconnectedness, constantly in motion."
A different man, his gaze piercing, yet filled with a palpable yearning, then spoke, cutting to the heart of a long-held human dilemma. "Profound Sage," he began, "why have many throughout history claimed to be Enlightened? They assert such claims, it seems, only to claim authority over others. True enlightenment, you suggest, was never found in adherence to rigid dogma."
The man leaned forward, his voice dropping slightly, "But if you remove the notion of karma, if you strip away all dogma from that system—if people truly realize there's nothing external truly punishing them—would they still choose to do good? Would they still choose kindness, or would they simply unleash the darkness within, with no fear of retribution?"
The sage met the man's challenging gaze, a flicker of profound understanding in his eyes. He did not immediately speak. Instead, he rose with an effortless grace that belied his age. His attention shifted to a figure huddled in the shadows at the edge of the gathering, a man gaunt with hunger, shivering despite the sun. In his hand, the sage held a simple loaf of bread, which he had carried since the morning.
"What you said is undeniable truth," the sage stated, his voice carrying clearly now, not as a pronouncement, but as a simple recognition of the man's question. He then began to walk towards the starving man, the bread held openly in his outstretched hand. "Now, I shall go to that man over there. He is starving. I shall give him this bread. I do this out of freedom. I do not do this out of fear, as no karma binds me."
As the sage offered the bread, the starving man's eyes, wide with disbelief, met his. The sage's presence seemed to fill the space with a silent resonance of compassion, and the man slowly reached out, tears welling in his eyes. The onlookers watched, transfixed by this simple, powerful act. A quiet murmur spread through the gathering, a collective realization dawning in their minds. The sage's actions spoke louder than any sermon, embodying the very answer he had yet to articulate fully in words.
Later that day, as dusk began to paint the sky in hues of orange and purple, the sage continued his solitary wanderings, the small group of his silent followers now trailing him at a respectful distance. His path led him past a dilapidated market stall, where two men were engaged in a brutal, desperate fight. Their faces were contorted with rage, their bodies moving with a primal fury fueled by ancient grievances. Their blows were sharp, unforgiving, each strike clearly born from a deep, festering desire for revenge. One wielded a broken crate, the other a length of rusted pipe, their conflict a raw, painful tear in the quiet fabric of the evening. The sage drew to a halt a short distance away. He did not move to intervene, did not raise his voice to calm them, nor did his expression betray any judgment. He simply watched, silent and unmoving, as the brutal dance of their fury unfolded before him.
After a long moment, during which the sound of ragged breaths and the dull thud of impacts filled the air, the sage's voice, clear and unburdened, cut through the clamor. He addressed the two men, not with command or condemnation, but with a profound question that seemed to stop time itself.
"Is this," he asked, his voice reaching them without effort, "your ultimate choice? This fury, this endless cycle of reprisal? Is there truly nothing more you can do with your lives than to perpetuate this pain?"
The two men, locked in their desperate struggle, faltered. The unexpected sound of his calm voice, cutting through their rage like a cool breeze, caused them to pause, their weapons still raised, their chests heaving. Their eyes, wide and bloodshot, fixed on the sage, who stood with an almost unnatural serenity just beyond their reach. The silence that followed his question was absolute, broken only by their ragged breathing.
Then, with a gentle, yet unwavering tone, the sage concluded, "If you two truly will do this, if this path of mutual destruction is your ultimate freedom, then I will not stop you. This is your choice, and I will walk away."
With those words, he turned, slowly and deliberately, his back to the fighting men. He began to walk away, not quickly, but with the same unhurried pace he always kept, leaving them there amidst their halted violence, faced with the stark, unfiltered mirror of their own decisions. His small group of followers watched, a collective breath held, then released as they too turned and quietly resumed their path, following their teacher into the fading light of the day, leaving the silence and the suspended conflict behind.
The sage continued his journey, moving through towns and secluded paths, always with a quiet grace. His silent acts of kindness persisted: a weary traveler found an unexpected well of fresh water, a lost child was gently guided home by an unseen hand, a lonely elder felt a sudden, inexplicable warmth in their heart. He never sought acknowledgment, for these acts were simply the natural expression of his understanding, threads woven effortlessly into the boundless tapestry of existence. He understood, with a clarity that transcended human words, the immense power he possessed. A mere thought, a flicker of intention, could undeniably tear down existing stories, unraveling the very fabric of perceived reality. Yet, he never wielded this power for disruption, nor for dominance. It remained quiescent, an inherent aspect of his being, a testament to the Boundless Love that held all things in its embrace without force.
One overcast morning, as he walked through a desolate stretch of rocky terrain, a figure emerged from behind a jagged outcrop. The man's face was twisted by desperation and a frantic, desperate intent. Without a word, he lunged, a glinting knife flashing in his hand, aimed directly at the sage's chest. The sage did not flinch, did not move to defend himself, nor did his expression change from its calm serenity. The blade struck, but instead of piercing flesh, it merely met an impenetrable stillness, sliding away harmlessly as if striking solid rock. The man, eyes wide with terror and confusion, stumbled back, the knife falling from his nerveless fingers. The sage remained perfectly still, unharmed, his gaze resting on the assailant not with anger or fear, but with a profound, quiet knowing. He did not fight back, nor did he make any move to apprehend the man. He simply stood there, an unyielding pillar of non-resistance.
After a long, silent moment, the sage turned from the bewildered attacker. He offered no reprimand, no gesture of triumph, no further word. With the same quiet resolve that marked his every step, he simply walked away, leaving the man alone with his shattered intent and the dropped knife. As he continued on his path, his silent acts of kindness and compassion persisted, woven seamlessly into the unfolding of each day. A bird with a broken wing found refuge in a sheltered crevice, a parched patch of earth received a gentle, inexplicable dew, and the subtle currents of air seemed to carry a renewed sense of peace to those he passed by, all without his conscious effort or the expectation of anything in return.
As the sun began its descent, painting the sky in soft, ephemeral shades, one of his followers, a thoughtful woman who had walked with him for many moons, gathered the courage to voice a question that had long quietly resided within her. She approached him as they rested by a still stream, her voice soft but earnest.
"Profound Sage," she began, "you spoke of 'the Beyond,' that which transcends gods and judgment. But what is it, truly? Is it not 'above,' then, in some grand, unseen hierarchy?"
The sage turned his head slightly towards her, his gaze reflecting the calm expanse of the twilight sky. "My dear," he replied, his voice a quiet murmur that seemed to embrace the very air, "you touch upon a subtle, yet crucial, distinction. To say 'above' implies a hierarchy, a position of superiority, a separate entity looking down upon creation. This is the understanding of a limited mind, seeking order through dominance. 'The Beyond' is not 'above' in that sense. It is not an external ruler, nor a distant observer."
He paused, allowing her to ponder his words. "Think of it not as a pinnacle, but as the very essence, the deepest core, the boundless ocean from which all waves arise and into which all waves return. It is not 'above' you, for it is also within you, and within every single leaf, every stone, every breath of wind. It is the fundamental, indivisible fabric of existence itself. It is the space, the consciousness, the pure, unconditional embrace that allows everything to simply be, without separation, without judgment, without the need to control or exert power.
"And know this, too," the sage added, his voice now imbued with a gentle, resonant power that seemed to echo from the very heart of the silence around them. "All beings and forms, and everything else, are ultimately gods. For they are all sons and daughters of something beyond."
This final declaration hung in the air, a profound truth offered without fanfare. The followers, who had witnessed his unwavering calm, his acts of pure freedom, and now this ultimate articulation of inherent divinity, stood in a stunned silence. It was a truth that did not demand belief, but invited recognition, shifting the very ground of their understanding of existence itself.