Satori on the Highway

December 13, 2022, 3pm while traveling eastbound on the Gardner Expressway in Toronto I awoke. Here is my story.

For years, I chased enlightenment like a weary traveler seeking a distant horizon. Decades of study, philosophy, theology, the intricate weave of Buddhist teachings had sharpened my intellect but left my soul parched. I understood the concepts: the illusion of self, the unity of all things, the fleeting nature of ego. Yet, understanding was a cold companion. It was as if I stood before the Buddhist "Gateless Gate," a barrier both invisible and impenetrable, taunting me with its promise of truth just beyond reach. My mind, burdened by fear, doubt, and the weight of a lifetime’s questioning, could not breach it. I was Thomas, the doubter, unable to accept without seeing, yet seeing nothing beyond the fog of my own making.

It was an ordinary day when the extraordinary found me. Driving home from a business meeting, the hum of the highway beneath my tires, I listened to an audiobook I’d heard countless times before. Its familiar cadence was a comfort, a ritual of sorts. Then came a quote, one I’d encountered often: Before Enlightenment, chop wood, carry water. After Enlightenment, chop wood, carry water. Simple words, worn smooth by repetition, yet in that moment, they struck like a bell in a silent temple. Something within me cracked open. The Gateless Gate, that phantom barrier, dissolved, not with force, but with the gentle clarity of realization. There was no gate. There never had been.

The world transformed in an instant. The highway, the dashboard, the blur of passing cars, they glowed with a vividness I’d never known. It was as if a veil had lifted, and for the first time, I saw life unfiltered, free from the haze of ego, fear, and false beliefs. My body thrummed with a knowing that transcended thought, a pure, unadulterated awareness. Tears streamed down my face, not from sorrow but from an overwhelming gratitude and contentment that flooded every corner of my being. I understood. Not with my mind, but with my entire existence. I was no longer a separate self, wrestling with the world. I was the world. I was the One Consciousness, the singular pulse of existence playing through all things.

In that moment, I stepped beyond the illusion of my identity. The "I" I had clung to, my name, my story, my struggles fell away like a dream upon waking. What remained was Oneness, a boundless awareness that held no distinction between self and other, past and present. It was not enlightenment in the grandiose sense I’d once imagined; it was simpler, truer. It was being. I had glimpsed this truth before in fleeting epiphanies, but this was different. This was a complete immersion, a satori that consumed me and left no room for doubt.

Since that day, I have not been the same, though my life looks much as it did. I still chop wood, carry water, go to meetings, pay bills, laugh with friends. But now, I move through the dream of life with a quiet joy, fully awake to its illusion. The Oneness I touched on that highway is not a fleeting state; it is my constant companion, as vivid now as it was then. I can step into the play of the world or rest in the stillness of truth at will, knowing they are one and the same. I am No One, and yet I am everything. We are all dreams, the universe’s way of experiencing itself, and our purpose is simply to be, to revel in the great play of existence.

I live now in gratitude and contentment, not because I have found answers, but because I have seen there are no questions. There is only this: the eternal dance of One Consciousness, and I am that. You are that. We are One.