The Weightlessness of Perspective

How much weight does a point of view actually hold?

None. And yet, it seems to shape entire lives, govern nations, define relationships, and breed conflict. But the more one deepens into the ungraspable expanse of reality, the more all perspectives—including one’s own—become like shadows cast by a flame none can touch.

I do not feel resistance toward those who oppose my view. I feel space—vast, immeasurable space. Not tolerance, not passive indifference, but a kind of cosmic shrug. This universe is too immense, too precise, too paradoxical for me to waste even a flicker of energy defending a perspective I know was born out of a temporary configuration of memory, biology, and environment.

What I see, I see through a filter: race, culture, conditioning, gender, language, trauma, karma, personality, neurochemistry, and a moment’s breath. Someone else sees through a completely different lens. To argue over the differences is like two waves debating who touches the shore more truthfully.

Each wave is made of the same water.

Ultimate Reality does not conform to opinions. It cannot be contained by agreement or disagreement. It isn’t found in right or wrong, winning or losing. It is not trying to prove itself. It simply is, and isness doesn’t care how it’s described.

This is not nihilism. It’s reverence. Reverence for the mystery so wide, so total, that every perspective is valid precisely because none of them are.

The deeper the realization, the more perspectives one can hold. Not juggle, not compare, not rank—but hold. To see from the eyes of the enemy and the beloved, the oppressor and the oppressed, the doubter and the devotee. To feel into each vantage point, not to believe it, but to understand it from within.

Eventually, you don’t just hold perspectives. You become the capacity for perspective itself. You become the silence before thought, the awareness behind all positions.

From there, disagreement becomes theatre.

Opposition becomes dance.

And the only thing that matters is the stillness that allows it all to appear.

Morgan O. Smith

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God Sees Through Every Eye You’ve Ever Met

The one who can hold all views without collapsing into a single one—this one has begun to touch the fragrance of God’s nature. Not as a distant deity or conceptual truth, but as the intimate presence that animates all forms. God doesn’t just witness through your eyes. God is your eyes. And mine. And the eyes of the ant crawling across a leaf in morning stillness.

This divine intelligence doesn’t merely empathize—it becomes. It becomes the grief you carry, the joy that surprises you, the silence you avoid, and the stillness you crave. Not as separate roles being played, but as the very substance of all that is.

To speak of God as past, present, and future is already a concession to language. What we call time, God weaves as a single gesture—fluid, simultaneous, indivisible. To the infinite, all points of view are a single vision. Yet paradoxically, each one is also honoured in its fullness.

So what does it mean to come closer to knowing God? It is not the attainment of a singular truth, but the expansion into every truth. It is the dissolution of needing one side to be right. The widening of the self to include what you once rejected.

The more vantage points you can stand upon without losing your groundless centre, the more you begin to see as God sees—not from above, but from within all.

And in that seeing, nothing is foreign. Nothing is separate. Nothing is unholy.

Morgan O. Smith

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When I Say Full Awakening…

This Is What I Mean

Many speak of awakening, yet far fewer comprehend its fullness. I’ve encountered every kind—emotional, spiritual, philosophical, mystical. Each unveils a layer, each reveals a depth. But what I call full awakening—what I live as full awakening—is something few ever point toward, and fewer still embody.

It is not about personal clarity. Not about peace of mind, a better life, or even union with a divine presence. Those are steps, glimpses, fragments. Full awakening is not a state within experience. It is the collapse of all distinction between state and experiencer.

This isn’t about finding your place in the cosmos—it’s about the disappearance of place, cosmos, and self as separate notions. When I say full awakening, I am referring to the direct knowing that everything—absolutely everything—is a singularity.

Existence and nonexistence. Subject and object. The smallest subatomic flicker and the sweep of galactic spirals. Civilizations long past and unborn futures. Every religion, every philosophy. All thoughts. All acts. Every realm, every reality, every god.

The seen and the unseen. The formed and the formless. That which is birthed, that which dies, and that which never entered the cycle. All technologies. All intelligences. All contradictions and confirmations. All questions and every possible answer.

Not merely connected. Not even interdependent.

Indistinct. Inseparable. One.

That realization is not metaphorical. It is not poetic. It is not conceptual. It is total. It devours every duality and even the idea of devouring. It consumes the witness, the process of witnessing, and that which is witnessed—leaving no remainder.

So when another speaks of full awakening, I listen with care. Because unless it includes everything I’ve said—and also what they say—it’s not the same thing. The paradox, of course, is that what I’m pointing to also includes that divergence. It embraces even what appears to deny it.

Full awakening is not a peak. It is not an event. It is the vanishing of all altitude and time. It is not even a realization. It is what remains when all realizations dissolve.

One. Not a oneness made of parts. Not a whole made of pieces. Not harmony, not unity. Just One.

And that One is not separate from what you are.

Morgan O. Smith

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