This is not our becoming - as we exist prior to form and still more reside as formless. We are finite in step, and breath, and yet our travel is forever. With each moment we are only an appearance and life is nothing more than moments seeming to unfold. Our truth is relative to time, yet always in the timeless. And so we find ourselves here - as template spread for all things to come, and as this singular point residing in time. It's a beautiful place to be. It's the only place we could ever be.
~
Running long is the art of balancing moments - one step equals the perfection of foot against ground and nowhere else to be. Yet still we stride to reach for more. Balance is in acceptance of each aspect of step and stride and seeing in truth that they are One.
Peace,
Eric
~
Running long is the art of balancing moments - one step equals the perfection of foot against ground and nowhere else to be. Yet still we stride to reach for more. Balance is in acceptance of each aspect of step and stride and seeing in truth that they are One.
Peace,
Eric
No comments:
Post a Comment