On Truth, Importance, and the Threshold Between Worlds

There’s a story you’ve probably heard, the one about the blind men and the elephant.

Each man touches a different part of the elephant: one grabs the tusk and says, “An elephant is like a spear.” Another feels the leg and insists, “No, it’s like a tree.” Another touches the trunk and says, “You’re both wrong, it’s clearly a snake.” Each one speaks with confidence. Each one is telling the truth. But none of them hold the whole of it.

If I’m honest, most of my life has been like a blind man, grabbing hold of one part of reality, declaring it truth, building stories around it, placing importance on it, reacting to it, defending it. Then watching as life gently.. or sometimes not so gently.. shows me the rest of the elephant.

So what is the truth?

I’m learning that truth isn’t static. It’s not something you grab, declare, and defend. Truth is a wave. I cant hold it, but I can ride, i can set the intention and set my line, and respond from what comes next.

Reality Transurfing has become the language I didn’t know I was already speaking. It taught me something simple and radical:

Reality reflects you. Not your thoughts, but your state. My presence in the present moment is the distilled and collapsing wholeness of reality. Right here and now.

Not just my hopes or goals, but my energy, importance I assign to something, the emotion I respond with, and the attention I can pay.

Here’s where it gets real.

Imagine a 2×4 plank on the ground. You walk across it effortlessly. Balanced. Focused, maybe, but not stressed. Now imagine that same plank suspended between two skyscrapers. The wind picks up. You feel gravity in your gut. You start thinking about consequences—about falling, failing, dying. Suddenly your legs shake, your vision blurs, your breath shortens.
Same plank. Different perception.

The task hasn’t changed. The importance has.

This is the trap of excess potential. The more emotional weight you assign something, whether it’s love, success, validation, the more it begins to warp. Like a star collapsing into a black hole, it pulls in everything, distorts everything. You lose balance. You fall.

I’ve done this.

I’ve loved so hard it became stifling. I’ve clung so tightly that what I feared losing slipped away. I’ve tried so hard to be seen that I became invisible. I’ve made myself small for love, loud for love, wise for love, broken for love. All of it… importance. Unnecessary importance, a distortion of what is real and true. The snake, not the elephant.

And then there’s the other side: not caring enough, turning down the importance dial so low that life passes by unanswered. The unopened door. The unread message. The missed opportunity. Because too little importance creates inertia. A different kind of collapse.

I’ve swung between the two. I’ve chased. I’ve withdrawn. I’ve clung. I’ve disconnected. And all of it… was me reacting to the world, forcing the wave, not surfing it.

Pendulums, those energetic forces that feed on emotional reaction, or mental control. have pulled me into fights, fantasies, self-doubt, highs and lows. They swing harder when I’m not watching, when I give my energy to drama, to fear, to craving, to attachment.

And then there’s vulnerability…the so-called medicine. I used to believe that being vulnerable meant bleeding in front of someone to prove I was real. But somewhere along the way, that became performative too. Emotional word salad. A kind of weaponized softness.

Just yesterday, my friend Sky says to me, “Vulnerability is being open to attack.” That stopped me.

Because what if I’m bare, not to manipulate, not to self-protect in disguise, but because I’m standing in something so true, it doesn’t need armor?

No shield. No sword. Just presence.
Open. Yes. But not without strength.
Because in the distilled deeper truth nothing needs to be defended.

And now here I am, standing at a threshold. Big decisions. Big energies. Tempted by the highs, threatened by the lows.
But something in me is aligning different this time.

I’m not chasing the bright side. I’m not fearing the shadow.

I’m choosing neutrality.
Not indifference. Not apathy.
But the calm clarity that can see the whole elephant. Maybe not even know what it is yet and be at peace with the options ahead and see how I can respond to what is offered.
The stillness that doesn’t get swept into the pendulum’s swing.

And here it is, the deeper truth I’ve been circling:

I am in a 50/50 relationship with life.
Life reflects what I radiate.
I create, and life creates back.
I choose the direction, and life adjusts the terrain.
I am both the wave and the surfer, both the dreamer and the dreamed.

The deeper truth doesn’t scream. It doesn’t perform.
It just is. Quiet, strong, humble and unmistakable when you feel it.

And so now I walk not with urgency, but with awareness.
Not to get somewhere, but to stay aligned.
Not to win, but to witness.
Not to conquer life, but to surf.

~Naim Ferguson
Reflection on Transurfing Reality by Vadim Zeland