I do not know the truth, but I am untroubled. I do not know whether my will is free or determined, but I am not troubled. Free of the need of freedom, free of the need of truth, free of the need to know, free of the need to be good, free of the need to be, I am whatever I am. Free of the need to teach, free of the need to be correct or good, I freely speak what I say. I may be free, I may be bound. I do not know. This may be called free, or may be called foolish. What this is called does not concern me. What this even is does not concern me. Seeking freedom doesn't free me. Seeking knowledge doesn't teach me. Abandoning seeking doesn't relieve me. Not by doing anything, nor by doing nothing, do I attain to anything. All that I do is just to let be. No other alternative appears. I do not know what to call this, how to tell a story without a theme, or how to account for just what is, and so I merely say this: that whatever is there with you, that is it, that is all, just that, no more, no less, no other. I do not know what I am. I do not even know whether I am. My self, my life, my thoughts, my being, all that I might suppose is me or has to do with me — all that appears like pictures on a screen, like actors on a stage. The pain, the love, the anger, the laughter, the thirst, the need — like colors and costumes on the players. I cannot tell if there's an audience. I cannot even wonder that, for seer and seen are parts of the show.

~ Enigma