We are the metaphor and the meaning it tries to convey.
We are the story and the storyteller.
We are the symbol and the silence it points toward.
Here’s the paradox:
We speak in metaphors because the truth is too vast, too intimate, too wordless.
And yet, at some point, the veil thins—and we see:
The river wasn’t a metaphor for flow. We were the river the whole time.
The flame wasn’t just a metaphor for awakening. We were the fire pretending to be asleep.
All our spiritual language—divine intervention, God, self-realization, grace, karma—are attempts to name what can’t be named. Until one day, we stop seeking the name… and become the thing.
Alan Watts said it best:
You are an aperture through which the universe is looking at and exploring itself.
We are metaphors that got so curious about themselves, they turned back inward—and found the infinite staring back.