"In the midst of an ordinary life - two marriages, three children, a successful career - Katie had entered a ten-year-long downward spiral into rage, paranoia, and despair. For two years she was so depressed that she could seldom manage to leave her house; she stayed in bed for weeks at a time, doing business by telephone in her bedroom, unable even to bathe or brush her teeth. Her children would tiptoe past her door to avoid outbursts of rage. Finally, she checked into a halfway house for women with eating disorders, the only facility that her insurance company would pay for. The other residents were so frightened of her that she was placed alone in an attic room.
One morning, a week or so later, as she lay on the floor (she had been feeling too unworthy to sleep in a bed), Katie woke up without any concepts of who or what she was. "There was no me," she says.
All my rage, all the thoughts that had been troubling me, my whole world, the whole world, was gone. At the same time, laughter welled up from the depths and just poured out. Everything was unrecognizable. It was as if something else had woken up. It opened its eyes. It was looking through Katie's eyes. And it was so delighted! It was intoxicated with joy! There was nothing separate, nothing unacceptable to it; everything was its own self.
...[Often people] asked her if she was "enlightened." She would answer, "I'm just someone who knows the difference between what hurts and what doesn't." - from introduction by Stephen Mitchell to the book Loving What Is, by Bryon Katie
(não resisto a esta citação lida no site da Evelyn Rodriguez)