There’s an old phrase—faster than a speeding bullet.
It was never really about speed.
It was about not being able to see what’s happening.
That’s how the mind works.
If you look closely at a newspaper photograph, you don’t actually see a picture.
You see dots—tiny colored dots, separate from one another.
Step back a little, and the mind blends them into a face, a scene, a story.
The picture was never really there.
The dots were.
Life is like that.
Experience arrives in tiny pieces:
a sound,
a sensation,
a thought,
a memory,
a feeling.
Each one is brief, discrete, and gone almost as soon as it appears.
But the mind blends them together so quickly that they feel continuous—
like a movie instead of still frames.
That blending happens faster than a speeding thought.
So instead of noticing this sensation, then this thought, then this feeling,
we experience reality—solid, moving, unquestioned.
And then we take one more step:
We blend all of that into me.
The same way separate brushstrokes become a watercolor,
or spinning light becomes a glowing circle,
separate moments get fused into a single sense of self.
Nothing mysterious is required.
Just speed.
When the blending slows—sometimes in meditation, sometimes by accident—
the illusion loosens.
You don’t disappear.
Life doesn’t stop.
The cup of coffee is still there.
But it’s seen more like dots again.
Moments again.
Pieces.
And in that seeing, something relaxes.
Not because everything becomes blissful or special,
but because nothing has to hold together so tightly anymore.
The movie is still playing.
But now you can sense the frames.
And when the mind no longer has to outrun itself—
no longer has to go faster than a speeding bullet—
experience flows on its own.
Not as an illusion you’re trapped in,
but as what happens when the old celluloid projector stops—
one frame held too long,
the heat burning a small white circle through the film,
spreading outward,
until motion collapses
and this moment can no longer move on—it burns into perception, fully alive before the next moment arrives.
Spiritual Gravity 