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