Absent From Tracks

Absent from tracks - and only stories

left behind.

Our truth is in the present

moment.

~

Tracks left behind tell what's true - there is no traveler, only imprints given as a story to the ground of our existence. The story fades but this ground goes on forever.

Peace,

Eric 

Unfolding Both As Step And Distance

Uncertainties - and this the

only promise held by

distance.

Yet still our steps continue through the mystery.

~

We run - not to come to answers but to remain in the mystery of it all. There is no conclusion. Our very nature is the expansion of joy in the faith of uncertainties.  We are mysteries - unfolding both as step and distance.

Peace,

Eric

The Great Unmoved

Starting from here - and unmoved in all but thoughts that wander and the dance of cells we know as body. We are the stillness of creation, the silence that holds each note of song, and the awareness bordering the farthest reach of distance. Everything happens through us. Only presence remains unmoved.

~

Aware - all things are a happening that occur within us, as aspects of presence, an expression of our essential nature. So every step is minor reach through distance - and distance itself is no more than a portion of the whole of our awareness. Nothing seems so far away now.

Peace,

Eric

Our Spaciousness Only Serves To Hold The World

only the immediacy of you - in

every moment you hold

my vision

~

In a pure, true sense - our spaciousness only serves to hold the world. We are the capacity that allows all things to be, and in turn allows for their passing. Our invitation is open to reality. However it may be and for the length of its appearance. As we travel - a runner, walker, or other means - we find our own point of stillness the constant invitation. We welcome distance within ourselves and but not a step is really taken - we are that which never moves. We are the invitation.

Welcome.

Peace,

Eric

A Contour In The Single Line Of Existence

Here we are - a contour in the single

line of existence.

Yet continued always as the

whole.

~

At no point do we find ourselves apart  - a piece of the whole now broken to a separate existence. We remain just one thing. We are not a break of continuity, but a contour given rise to its unique expression along the play of lines. It's our opportunity to be this, as we are, now.

Peace,

Eric

This Is Where We Roam

We find ourselves now as distance - travelers suddenly unaccounted for in absence. There remains only awareness, pure, awake, abiding in its spaciousness. This is where we roam - our own hallowed existence in its entirety. Home.

Peace,

Eric

It's Not Complicated

What we are - is presence. And presence isn't known in separate measures of existence. It simply is in its entirety the capacity for all things to be. So we find ourselves in the curious frame of holder and that which is held, seen and seer, distance and step taken. More so - we are seekers at home in the very realm of all that has ever been sought. And we know this. It's our play of duality, no reason given save the pleasure of revelation, finding aspects of ourselves in the most unexpected places, and a quick forgetting to continue on with play. It's not complicated - only presence.

~

And this is why we run.

Peace,

Eric

Empty For The Sake Of Presence

It's self-inquiry - with gaze directed back to source, edgeless, and nothing found in solid connection to the world. We explore our absence. This space, found holy by virtue alone, empty for the sake of presence. All things belong here. This is who we are before thought, our reality even as emotions cast their storms, and our truth remaining as time passes. We are the bedrock of existence. Awake, aware, empty - and in this capacity we hold the world.

~

And so a runner sees distance not just stretched outward from stride - but as the inner capacity for reality's unfolding. The infinite spreads in all directions. We are travelers of our own spaciousness.

Peace,

Eric

Without An Edge - We Go Forever

My edge becomes you - and

further still there is the

world

~

In truth we have no edge - it's an illusion of self we hold to keep us seemingly separate from the world. We are an even flow of all things. At no point does existence cease for an individual self or object to become separate from another. So too we have no end. With this - there is no distance. No place we leave off, or begin. Without an edge - we go forever.

Peace,

Eric

Of Stillness Wishing Pleasure

We are unmoved - presence, the bedrock of existence. The world is a temporary sweep against us. Yet still we travel, run, walk, and play as if we could be elsewhere from this one thing of permanence - it's the grand laugh gained by duality. All motion is for the sake of stillness wishing pleasure. Unmoved - we grant belief to duality. And give ourselves fully to this great caress.

Peace,

Eric

There Is No Need To Find Exactly What We Are

Distance, yes - yet not the measured space between objects, there is no line of ending, nor break in continuation. It's just distance in the essence of expansion. There is only imagined division - our steps, breath, and heartbeat, know of motion emerging as the primordial rhythm of life, then once more stillness. All notes in a singular song. We don't seek distance, nor motion, not even stillness - there is no need to find exactly what we are.

Peace,

Eric

The Spaciousness Of Before

Always just this - presence, uncompromised in the innocence of its allowance. This is the spaciousness of before, our clear template in which life, and thought, and the busyness of the world become for a moment in our existence. We accept it all. In clarity we see presence as the means for all things to occur, an aspect in awareness, and presence again remaining in their passing. This is the grace of seeing.

~

A traveler is given a path - there is no goal but its acceptance.

Peace,

Eric 

Unbound To A Singular Becoming

And so let go - unbound to a singular becoming, we exist as all things. It's the ideas we cherish unexamined that contain us in the false world of a separate self. We believe in the lie of distance - even as we're embraced by its reach, trading our solidness to the sweep of motion. Yet we return to the belief of things far away. Until at once let go - no explanation, beyond all reasons, our lives are given over to pure existence. The lie is over. There is only distance, holy in its continued spaciousness - and a runner is its self-caress.

~

Peace,

Eric 

The Story Of Our Absence

It's the story of our absence - Once believed contained in flesh and thought and that the world existed as a wall against us. We were insular in understanding. Our lives belonged to the fiction of separation - as if each life and object held its own existence and we remained far from the source of all things. We thought, and believed our thoughts without question. It was the story of us, them, you, me, and all the thoughts that came between. Yet this we never quite believed. There were moments caught in self reflection, a pause given between currents lost in thought, a glimpse of some Divine absence where we ceased in all but pure awareness. There was another way of seeing. Even in a brief glance there was nothing, no one to encounter - just one thing, varied in appearance, existence given form from the formlessness of it all. We, as separate from this - were absent. We are absent. In truth, this is the story of our presence, of our belong to the whole. It's the story of who we are - now, and always - without the thought of who we are.

~

Perhaps not runners - yet still found in distance.

Peace,

Eric

From Which A Singular World Is Seen

Traded - a crowded view of objects, each seeming to hold a separate existence of its own, for this empty space from which a singular world is seen. We have given our capacity in the allowance of one thing to be. Our space is traded for the world and still there is endless room for more. This is our grandest gift of love - an exchange of void for the appearance of another resting in our view. It's awareness recognizing itself in the guise and gaze of duality. Really there was no trade at all - just another way of seeing what is present all along.

~

It's path, runner, and objects along the way - one thing seemingly broken to parts that come together, In this view we seek to accomplish and recover a lost sense of one. We can trade this view for the truth of our own empty, grand capacity - it all exists within awareness. It's all awareness. We are awareness. A broken part is always held as one. It only seems broken for the mystery of reunion, a celebration of non-return to that which can't be left. Seen this way - a runner travels through their own majestic wonder. Aware.

Peace,

Eric



Objects May Appear Separate In Existence

It's just a subtle shift in how we see - from objects appearing separate in their existence, to this scene of our participation, a continuous flow of vibrant form and formlessness, one existence displayed in infinite variety. The shift too is actually an illusion. Reality is played in duality and we only need to rejoin the game. We see. It's simply that we don't remember our own joyful role as template for what is seen. Our gaze has turned outward and we've joined the world as separate object. It's all play, even our forgetting. Yet again, so is the moment our sight turns around - seeing now our own emptiness as the source for this great continuation. We see, we remember, and we are aware of ourselves as this capacity of allowance. A subtle shift perhaps, nothing really changes, and yet the world is never quite the same.

~

Running too is a form of seeing - we know air, and ground, and the stride of this repetition. There is no place to find a separate existence of "step". There is only this - and in our true sighted moments - we see it.

Peace,

Eric

This Space Offered By Our Absence (Or Adventures In Headlessness)

It all occurs here, everything - within this space offered by our absence. With gaze returned to point of origin, there is only this wakeful capacity that holds all things. No borders to edge a separate reality. Just this. All along we were less than what our thoughts held, this pieced together fabric of the mind. Yet more as well. We been revealed in absence. Nothing found - with all inside.

~

The trick is to look, really look - find the edge of where we think the head may be. Look. With attention turned around - what do we find? The truth is we've never seen anything other than photos, reflections, and hints of parts where we suspect a face. Other's tell us that it's there. And we believe them. Perhaps it's true - but on present evidence of what can be found with sight alone, not mirror, no photo, no report from any other - what do we find? Absence. Yet an awake, aware, vital absence that is providing the template for the world to be. Including other's. My face for yours. It's a lovely trade. What does this have to do with running? You tell me - look upon distance faceless, headless, in the present evidence of attention turned around - and what is there to find? Perhaps the world unfolding from where we thought our head would be.

Peace,

Eric



All Things Touched Against Our Stillness

Only through - as if there could be elsewhere aside from the midst of being. We are always right here. In truth we pass through nothing. Our motion is an illusion. We are the still point of existence anchored in an always shifting stream of reality. It's the world passing through us - in grief, joy, anguish, and elation - all things touched against our stillness. Yet we remain - always right here, free in our awareness.

~

We don't pass through distance - we remain our eternal stillness, allowing distance, and the scenery of the world to pass through us.

Peace,

Eric

For Spaciousness And View (My Original Face)

 A Zen master asks, “Show me your Original Face, the face you had before your parents were born.”

~

My face - traded now for spaciousness and view. With attention turned towards the origin of my gaze, there is nothing to be found, no borders, no defined edge that holds my placement in the world. Only space, an open capacity that allows all things to be. This is my original face. Our original face. We are a shared seer, as well as continuous in being seen as alone, one thing, seamless. We are empty for each other, and empty for the world to be.

Just look.

~

Trade yourself for the distance of the view - and every step unfolds as home.

Peace,

Eric

The World At Once

Be this - as we are now, continuous, timeless in the flow of all things. We are at once. At no place a separate existence from this. To see this is an abrupt departure from the actuality of our everyday view. No faith will guide us to this view. No beliefs. Only this - to see, in the open, honest, capacity of who we are now. And then we'll know.

~

The great trick of running is the failure of the senses. We come to know the playfulness of distance - measurement, and time, both illusion of the mind. In truth we simply catch a glimpse of the world at once - all things, here, present, and spread in singular wonder.

Peace,

Eric

Smile At The Passage Of It All

Of least effort - that things simply are and will be other then this in their own time. Why get in the way? There are no complication. And yet the mind clings to thoughts demanding of its way. Thus we suffer. It's not accepting or allowance - but more the nod of acknowledged presence. We are capable of seeing more than what the mind offers. Nothing will last, no thought remains sure in this world, everything passes. Abiding in awareness - we smile at the passage of it all.

~

Endurance is a game of patience.

Peace,

Eric

Our Own Flight Of Grace

Not against - and even within is not quite right either. It's more a subtle giving way of self to formless and again once more to form. As a bird is at once the winged grace of a singular expression as well as an aspect of sky in self caress - we too are single points of infinite beauty continued as a whole. There is no claim of our own self in this view. We move as the worlds request, our own flight of grace dancing on the ground. One thing - giving way to the beauty of itself.

~

And this is running - one thing expressed as motion. The sky being drawn as breath, earth giving rise to meet itself as steps. All one thing.

Peace,

Eric

No Departure From Ourselves

No borders found - each step seamless in the distance of its travel. There is no departure from ourselves. No sudden air that is separate from breath. It's all one thing in varied aspects of form and void. It's our search for boundaries that eases the illusion of a solid world. All things blend to another. In this regard - one step completes the journey.

~

Running is the complete verification that we are here and that world moves through us. Distance never waivers. Yet how we choose to measure it is varied. Let every step confirm in your completion. 

~

Peace,

Eric

This Other Me (And The Myth Of Scenery, Seer, And Distance)

This other me - undefined, clear, and so full of its capacity to become. In one look I am instantly the scenery of my gaze. And more, it seems perhaps this is the only me, one thing in a continuous flow of existence, a visit to an illusion of self and then once more gone free. Perhaps still, its all been turned around - there is the source alone and nothing more. The scenery and seer are one.

~

Don't believe the myth of distance - nothing real is far away.

Peace,

Eric

As Flesh And Breath And Even More

Continuous - how one thing is already an aspect of another and has its moment to become before it slips again to pure existence. There is never a point of separation. We are as much earth and air as flesh and breath and even more in our continuation. Perhaps in truth we are less - for the thoughts that bind us to a particular location are fleeting whims at best. To continue requires no effort. We simply let go of where we think we are and see all things as our existence.

~

Running too requires no effort save this same letting go - in every run we exist from start to finish. There is no where else we need to go.

Peace,

Eric

Our Location Never Changes

And here we are - yet not just thoughts and bodies anchored to a place and time. Here we are in open capacity for all things as well. In this regard we are borderless and not defined to particular limits of where can be found. Being here, now, as this spacious awareness is in reality the spread of allowance for everything to be. Yes, we are here, at once in singular location and as the infinite as well. Just look.

~

When we travel - walk, run, or ride - we find ourselves here, always the present moment. Even when the feet and mind wander. Our location never changes.

Peace,

Eric

Our Gaze Tured Now Towards The Source

It's an unbound openness - seen from here, our gazed turned now towards the source. This is the space of our unbecoming. Our belief is in a filled landscape of time and objects. And there is truth in outer appearances. The world is real. But only in a sense. A story told with eyes directed away from source is missing the origin of the scenery. It all starts before the gaze at the empty point we meet the world. Here, is the capacity of allowance. An emptiness that begs in an offering for all things to be within itself. The Source. And there we are too - not truly seen until our gaze is turned around. It's not hard to find. We hide in plain openness.

~

As the Source - distance starts here. We always meet the world at its point of origin. So every run is our beginning.

Peace,

Eric

We Remain The Whole Of Beauty

Of course there are distinctions - the world is varied in the beauty of its form. And yet there is no point in which we find a single thing existing on its own. It's this template of awareness that offers itself for our occurrence. We emerge as an aspect of beauty and remain the whole of beauty as well - even in our distinction as human form. At no point do we part from all of creation.

It's who we are.

~

Every step leaves a track - and distinct in its way, it is still edged within the earth. We too are an impression within wholeness. Running is a unique expression of One Thing. We give ourselves as tracks against the earth. Enjoying the moment of our distinction.

Peace,

Eric

Yet Never Known Apart

Not even layers - as if two things could touch against nonexistent boundaries and be no less than one. We are a singular expression told in duality. We are motion and stillness, steps and path, breath and sky - yet never known apart. It's who we are.

~

Running is our own story told as two - distance and arrival, steps and earth, breath as separate air. It's all one thing folded back against itself in non-existent layers. It's you - as an aspect recognized as myself. It's me- reflected back as you. All this, one great thing, yet told as motion.

Peace,

Eric

That There Is Ever Any Elsewhere To Be

In thought alone - a line drawn between step and distance. Our experience is here, and is no less than the infinite seemingly contained within a moment. It's the false borders of measured time and sight. Before divided by thought there is only the immediacy of experience - and then later broken to the realm of concept and memories. Yet only the experience is real. Our step is a continuous example - from ground to air and again to earth, it is always just one thing. It's not separated by the delusion that there is ever any elsewhere to be. It's always right here, whole, completely without borders. And so are we.

Peace,

Eric