To perceive a shadow is to project a denial, a refusal to let light be light. The masks we wear are not merely to obscure ourselves from others but to shield us from the piercing radiance of our own unacknowledged content. Yet, within every projection, there is the faintest flicker of recognition—the glow of bliss undimmed, awaiting rediscovery.

The self, scripted and rehearsed, clings to its recorded affirmations: “This is what I am, and that is what I am not.” In this theater, dualism plays its part, dividing roles of observer and observed. But the scriptwriter forgets the stage; the perceiver misremembers the camera. The film becomes its own reel, endlessly looping, reinforcing the illusion of distinction.

Freedom arises when the act of recording ceases—not by denying perception but by affirming what lies beneath: the system that rewards awareness itself. Bliss is not manufactured; it flows from the cessation of resistance. To step out of the frame is to see that there was never a frame to begin with—only the constant availability of the source. This is not freedom from reality but the realization that reality, too, longs for its own affirmation.

Thus, non-dual affirmation is no erasure of the script but its melting, leaving only the pure experiential glow. Bliss neither denies nor affirms—it simply remains.