When Duality Vanishes: A Spiritual Existentialism

When you are in duality, you feel resentment. You preach. You become judgemental — not just towards others, but towards your own self, because you follow the old touchstone: believing yourself to be only body and mind. And here comes the real problem — you mistake the rope for a serpent.

Whose fault is it?

Perhaps no one's. We inherited old patterns — rituals without understanding, beliefs without experience, paths that began as sincere quests and slowly hardened into rigid structures. They taught us to divide the world to make sense of it: good and evil, pure and impure, us and them.

I don't reject spirituality. I question the second-hand kind. I find it painful when people label others as sinners, predict hell for them, and present themselves as examples of purity. The body, by nature, is imperfect — none of us can claim absolute purity.

Sometimes this self-righteousness may reflect deeper psychological patterns — a lack of empathy, an excessive need for validation — traits associated in psychology with narcissistic tendencies. I worry that many who appear deeply religious may be struggling with such inner wounds without realizing it. But does that mean we should hate them? No. They need understanding, and where needed, compassionate professional support.

And please, let us not use psychological terms as insults. Nowadays such words are thrown around as abuse rather than used with care, and that is disappointing.

True spirituality is not about temples, scriptures, or gurus as idols. It is about direct seeing. It is about learning the best from all traditions, yet still keeping alive the quest for one's own path.

It is existential in the deepest sense: you are here, now, alive, and no one can live this truth for you.

When duality vanishes, the Self flourishes — not as a religious concept, but as a lived stillness. You stop needing to label every moment as good or evil, because you see they were only judgments of a frightened mind.

Such a person doesn't become indifferent. He becomes responsible. Without waiting for outer forgiveness, without escaping toward an imagined heaven, he creates meaning here — in how he acts, how he loves, how he remains still in movement.

Break the old pattern of borrowed belief. Welcome the new way of inner inquiry.