But acknowledging one's own falseness?
Rather an acute awareness of its smallness, even nothingness.
Striking the heart like an arrow on its target.
A friction, a flame that starts burning away barriers.
Does that make it harder to overlook it?
Would it not be easier to take a stance on one's ground of being?
When ignoring the caricature, the glitter of this false show.
When realizing were in this together with the True Friend.
Trying to unravel mind's many veils.
Forgetting the false or remembering the Real.
Of the Beloved's passion, of Self's true light.
That even a pin drop can disturb it?
That even memories of glimpses evaporate?
That until our inner circuits are solid, they might get fried?
And surely it's ever ready to revive us.