The common assumption is that the universe exists independently of us, a vast external reality into which we are born and against which we struggle. Yet this assumption dissolves when we look closely at the act of perception. The world is not simply “out there”; it appears through us, shaped by our gaze, our state of mind, and our participation. The relationship between us and the universe is not one of separation but of union. The individual and the cosmos are inseparable.

A canvas waits for the artist’s brush. The artist pours creativity upon it, yet the canvas is not passive. Its texture, resistance, and openness guide the hand. The act of painting is a dialogue. So too is our relationship with the universe. The cosmos is not mute matter but a responsive field. It invites us to paint our world upon it, and in turn, it paints us. The world we experience is not imposed upon us but emerges from the interplay between us and cosmos.

Clay waits for the potter, eager to be shaped. Yet the potter’s vision is guided by the clay’s own qualities — its softness, its resistance, its hidden potential.  So too does the universe wait for us. It is not merely matter awaiting form but a field of possibilities awaiting interpretation. The shape we give it becomes the world we inhabit.

The universe appears through us. When we are joyful, the world shines with joy; when we are sorrowful, the world reflects sorrow. The world is not fixed but refracted through the state of mind.

Like a painting, the world is composed of the same materials, yet its meaning shifts with the viewer’s interpretation. The star only exists when we gaze upon it, the moon when we attend to it, the sky when we open ourselves to it. The world is not static but a dance of presence. It appears in our attention and disappears when we turn away. The world exists within our awareness and not outside. To live with awareness is to participate consciously in this dance and recognize the existence.

A painting is composed of pigments, canvas, and brushstrokes. Yet its meaning shifts with the viewer’s interpretation. One sees beauty, another sorrow, another nothing at all. The materials remain the same, but the world they reveal is different. So it is with life: the same sky, the same moon, the same star, yet infinite worlds depending on the gaze that beholds them. There is no boundary between subject and object.

The world is illusion or Maya, dependent on the consciousness. The illusion is not false in the sense of non-existent, but contingent: like a reflection in a mirror. Without the gaze, the reflection vanishes. Awareness is the silent ground upon which the play of forms arises.