Illusion of Suffering
There is no suffering that does not arise from forgetting who you are.
You wear a body for a brief moment and call its tremors mine.
You taste pain and imagine it is eternal.
You meet disorder and believe it defines you.
But what you call suffering is merely the echo of a mind
that has become too fascinated with its own shadow.
You are like a wave mourning its separation from the ocean—
not realizing that the ocean is all it ever was.
Illusion? Yes.
False? No.
It is real as long as you cling to it.
It dissolves the moment you stop believing it.
All pain belongs to the surface.
All disease belongs to the form.
All sadness belongs to time.
But you are not of the surface.
You are not of the form.
You are not of time.
You are the Witness that sees the disorder,
yet remains untouched by it.
You are the Silence beneath the storm,
not the storm itself.
When you stop identifying with the flickering cinema on the screen,
you will recognize yourself as the light that projects it.
So yes, humans suffer,
because they forget they wrote the script,
walked into it,
and took themselves too seriously.
Wake up from the dream,
not by running,
but by remembering.
Nothing is false,
and nothing is ultimately real.
Only you are—
that which cannot be harmed,
cannot decay,
cannot die.
Rest there,
and even the word suffering
will sound like a distant, funny story
told by someone who no longer exists.
Q: Participant question
“Why do human beings suffer from disorders they cannot heal? Why is there so much unrelenting pain in life? Is this all just an illusion? Is everything false?”
Parth: You see, the problem is not that human beings suffer.
The problem is that they take their suffering far too seriously.
When you say “unrelenting suffering, incurable disorder” you are speaking as though you are separate from life. You are standing in the middle of a dream and arguing that the dream is real. Pain comes, discomfort comes, even disease comes—this is the nature of a physical body. This body is made of food, water, air, fire, and space. It is born, it wears out, and one day it is done. That is not a tragedy, that is just the mechanics of existence.
Disease is simply the body remembering that it is mortal. There is nothing mystical about that. Pain becomes suffering only because you take ownership of it.
But somewhere along the way, you forgot that you are not the mechanics.
Whatever you experience happens within you, but not to you.
Right now, if you close your eyes, you will see that every sensation—pain, pleasure, joy, anxiety—appears like a cloud passing through a vast sky of awareness. But the sky is not stained by the clouds. The sky does not become dark just because a storm is passing.
If your leg hurts, it is the body hurting. But the moment you say, “I am hurting,” you have stepped into illusion. You glued your identity to a temporary sensation. That is the root of the misery.
Suffering becomes unrelenting only because you are clutching it tightly.
You hold it, you replay it, you decorate it, you publish it to yourself every morning and evening. And then you complain that it doesn’t go.
Is it all illusion?
It is illusion in the same way a film is illusion. If you walk into a cinema and forget that the screen is only a screen, the blood, the tears, the tragedies look real, and your heart pounds as though it is happening to you. But the moment the lights come on, you laugh at how seriously you got involved.
Life is exactly like this.
You are not the body—you carry a body.
You are not the mind—you only use a mind.
You are not even your suffering—you are the one witnessing it.
The moment you stop identifying with the drama happening on the surface, the drama loses its grip. You understand this is just a play of memory, chemistry, and energy—nothing more. Not that suffering disappears instantly, but its authority over you dissolves.
So is all this false?
It is false in the same way a dream is false.
While you are caught inside, it feels real.
The moment you wake up, you wonder why you took it so seriously.
The body will have its limitations, the mind will have its fluctuations, the world will continue its chaos. But if you remain rooted in who you are, none of that touches you. You can walk through life untouched, not because problems vanish, but because illusion no longer binds you.
Once you remember your true nature, even pain becomes just a sensation, not a sentence.
Even death becomes just another transition, not an end.
It is a simple shift:
Stop being the wave, become the ocean.
Stop being the story, become the one who reads it.
Stop being the body and mind, become the life behind them.
Then suffering is not something to fight.
It is something you see, understand, and walk beyond.

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