Excerpt About Completeness
So being complete means being (total)ly serene and unperturbable. You have no need to accomplish anything or achieve anything, even completeness. You’re too complete to think or reflect on your completeness at all. You don’t even need to know you’re complete. It is interesting that you experience either completeness or incompleteness.Your mind is either aware of one or aware of the other. There is nothing in between. You are yourself only when you are complete. When you are not complete, you are not yourself. If you need anything, absolutely anything, if you desire or fear anything, you are still not completely yourself. Of course, your body will have its basic biological needs, like food and shelter. You attend to these, but you are not dependent on comfort to be complete. If you experience yourself as incomplete, you remain unaware of your innate completeness, and behave like someone who needs to be filled. The behavior of someone who is incomplete is easy to recognize: the person always acts as if he wants or needs something. As long as there is an itch for something, you know you are not complete. If you experience interest in anything at all—an object, a person, an activity, or an idea—you know that, in that moment at least, you’re not complete. It will probably sound to your mind as if being complete would make for a totally uninteresting life. Such a state does not sound appealing or appetizing. Yet the mind will not be able to rest until there is completeness. Being complete doesn’t mean that you don’t do anything, that you just hang out and vegetate. When you are complete, your actions can only be loving. When you’re not experiencing the gap of incompleteness, there is no need and no fear, and then you are free to love. Love is a natural movement; it doesn’t need a desire to motivate it. Loving action is the spontaneous arising out of that completeness. And from that, all else comes.