Doing or non-doing, where lies the illusion?

Imagine a large room with tables, and on these tables are chessboards, pieces, white and black, and the game.

Each piece plays for itself, having a specific role and movement directions. However, it has a certain freedom to create combinations of movements within its limitations, adapting them as the game on the board unfolds. Now, the fact that a piece does something is its maya, illusion. The game has a higher view. There is individuality, as it were, and there isn't. The piece has awareness of its own individuality.

The game is very unpredictable. There are many tables in the room and many games happening simultaneously. Different positions on different boards, some with dark forces winning, others with white.
At one moment, it seems that the dark forces are winning the hall, and the next moment, everything can turn around.

It's as if two unified teams are playing. And players can move between boards according to a certain order. Carrying knowledge acquired on one board to the knowledge of the next board. More precisely, they are connected in consciousness. They have a common consciousness space. They are one consciousness space that plays. It depends on which perspective you look from. There is an individualized board-based consciousness, but just as pieces of one color on the board act in a unified consciousness space for a unified purpose, so do the consciousnesses of the boards.

Going back to the piece. The piece is aware of itself and, depending on the level of awareness of the board, also of what is happening on the board and in the hall more broadly. However, this is partial to few pieces. Most pieces have no clue. They have enough to do with themselves. They are busy being themselves and don't understand the nature of the game well. So they struggle on their own, trying to figure out their limitations. Seeing the movement and nature of other pieces from time to time, they compare themselves to them and try to take their roles but can't because the game has its universal rules, and power is lost if you try to move like someone else.

This, in turn, has arisen from the fact that the pieces of the opposite tone and the consciousness playing on the board are trying to outsmart the consciousness playing with them.
As always in this life - the dark has dark, gloomy plans, and the light has light, bright plans.

Now, each piece has one ability - to choose how it reacts to what's happening on the board, and this actually determines how much the opposing consciousness can influence it. Individual seeming success may not be a success at all in the broader sense of the game happening on the board. In other words, the fewer opinions and preferences a piece has, the more it acts in harmony with its tone's consciousness.

The greater the synchronicity between the board and the piece, the more the piece's consciousness becomes aware of what's happening on the board more broadly, and it has the opportunity to contribute its intelligence and advice to the process happening on the board.
Such synchronicity also increases the board's consciousness's synchronous connection with its tone throughout the hall. A broader consciousness of field awareness and cooperation emerges.
The deeper the cooperation between consciousness fields, the more successful the game.

Now, interestingly, considering the boundlessness of consciousness fields, it doesn't all end with the room and what's happening in it. The room, in turn, emerges into something. As we know, the entire manifested world has emerged from nothingness and become something.

The room emerges in the heart of an even more expansive consciousness, who has created the room, the tables, the pieces, the players, that is, the playgrounds on which the game takes place.
It has also created time, which is temporary in nature, since everything that begins at some point also ends at some point.

Depending on where you look from, it exists and doesn't exist simultaneously.

Now from the perspective of the creator of the room, the whole room is an illusion. And from the perspective of the one in the room, the room and they are very real.

Temporary but real.

What makes the game even more interesting is that the greater the synchronicity of the individual perspective, the clearer it becomes to the individual consciousness that it doesn't actually exist in an individual sense but that it itself is the one who has created the entire room, game, players, and playground within itself.

The outcome of the game is obvious. Everything that arises and disappears is illusory, meaning it sustains itself only as long as Maya... or illusion lasts.

When the consciousness of the piece has merged into one with the consciousness of the entire room and its creator, there is nothing left to fight for. This only brings more light into the room and more and more consciousness angles comprehend the nature of the entire game. The game goes on to the end but in its own lightness.

When maya, with the help of which consciousness actually creates separation, no longer has power, the game has irreversibly ended. The lights have been turned on in the hall, but since the players who haven't awakened are still in full swing, they are kindly allowed to carry their momentum to the end until it subsides.

In this sense, time is also very relative. Time is very different for a pawn and a bishop because moving from one end of the game board to the other is one move for one and quite a few for the other.

But having expanded into a common consciousness space, the perception of individual time also changes. Impatience disappears. Of course, translating this now into "real life" makes the picture much more colorful and nuanced, but by reducing the entire functioning game to basic functionality, we can perceive something analogous to what's described happening. At the bone level, the level that holds the game together... Chess pieces were originally made of bone.

In early childhood, I spent a lot of time with my grandfather. He was a very special person. A man with a very big heart. An inventor, with an extraordinary life experience and life story. He was an architect, and his last job was as the chief architect of the capital city district. He knew how to look at life from interesting perspectives.

We played a lot of chess with him. I remember that I was about 5-6 when I came to the conclusion about the chess game happening in the broader context of life.

33 years of further study of the nature of the game, expanding ever more deeply into myself, into what's happening on the board, in the room, I can state today from my illusory individual experience that this is so. I am everything and nothing at the same time, and everything that falls in between.

What a lightness. There's nothing to figure out; everything has long been figured out. The only thing you get with figuring out is a bunch of problems to ponder over then, suffer, complain about. To get lost in your piece consciousness. Why?

Well, for it to be fun. To feed Maya.

Funny, some time ago, I lived with a retriever named Maya, whom I also fed. She was big, hairy, left hair everywhere, smelled, arranged all kinds of craziness, barked when she was outside because she wanted to come in, and barked when she was inside because she wanted to go out. There was always something to do with her, and it was sometimes really annoying. She wanted tremendous attention; it seemed that her cup would never fill. The same was true for her eating urges. It was endless for her.

This is the nature of Maya. But you, dear game companion, have a choice in how much you feed Maya. If you think she'll give in, you're mistaken. She doesn't live outside of you; she lives inside you, being a part of you. That little voice in your head that compares, commands, arranges, fears, demands, needs, desires, and suffers under all this functioning. The whole pleiad.

But we loved each other in our own way. We still love, because love doesn't disappear in time. Love is. Maya taught me unconditional love for myself, for Maya, by giving it to me.

She taught me the nature of the game: break your head at whatever level you want, and everything is here to serve you. Maya ultimately leads you back to becoming aware of your own reality and previously gave you the opportunity to enjoy the game. To fill time. To grow and mature in it, to meet yourself again. A fun journey, a fun game. It offered many emotions and colors. It still does, but now the beauty remains on the surface and I am no more. I've never been, and I won't cease to be either. It depends on which angle you look from and who's looking.

Seram