After reading a few books written by supposedly enlightened people I've come to the realization that I'm not a serious person. I don't wish to struggle with that perceived lack of ambition anymore. And then there's that - the decision not to struggle. Its a pretty fine-toothed comb, I noticed that I still take pointers and use them to paint the canvas rather than chip the paint. The one on my mind is that I believed in no experiencer and jammed that idea on top of the experience where I still perceive an experiencer, effectively denying what I would call a personal truth in favour of some stuff I read.
To me it seems like there is an experiencer, someone seeing behind the eyes. I ask what is seeing and I receive a faint signal where I KNOW I'm seeing, its so confident, and the sensation/thought can be traced back to a faint tension in the chest,
Its weird how whenever I investigate any sensory input and ask who/what is perceiving it seems so blatantly obvious that its me there like some central hub receiving it all yet at the same time if I ask who/what am I there is no satisfactory answer or way of investigating.
At the same time all this mental vomit is being produced there's a lot of doubt about everything. Yesterday I even googled great doubt. I've been doing quite a bit of sitting and watching thoughts and it has brought me back to a frame of mind where I just see them and don't even have to judge, its just known that its not, and yet not really...