The Seeker Is Also the Sought

What is the point of seeking?

This question often arises on the path of awakening—not just in the mind, but in the heart that begins to feel the futility of running toward something that always seems out of reach. But even the question itself is part of the dance.

Seeking, in all its forms: the longing, the striving, the searching for peace, truth, wholeness; simply another appearance. It has no separate point, no final destination outside of itself. It’s not wrong or misguided. It’s just what appears, until it doesn’t.

We could say it’s like a wave rising in the ocean. The wave seems to go somewhere, to have direction and purpose. But from the ocean’s view, it never left itself. Seeking may appear to aim for something perhaps freedom, enlightenment or peace—but it is already that, even as it reaches.

There’s a kind of grace in realising that nothing has ever been out of place. Not the searching. Not the confusion. Not the longing. Not even the feeling of being lost. All of it is the tapestry of what is; the dreaming of form and identity, the unfolding of sensation, emotion, thought.

Even the appearance of “this is me” or “this is my life” or “I must find something”—these, too, are just appearances. The dream isn’t something to wake up from; it’s what is. Not an illusion to be escaped, but a mysterious play of being.

And in the end, the seeker is also the sought. The moment the seeking collapses, what’s left is not something new or different, what remains is just this. Unadorned, intimate, alive.

Not needing a point. Not needing to arrive. Just being what it already is.