The Art Of Pointing

It's as simple as pointing - every object has a location, form defined by its specifics, and even thoughts reside separate from each other. We point to these in regard to their state of being. They exist as known by our senses. Each one seems to stand apart from the backdrop of its surroundings. These are things that can be pointed to, described, and counted. Now continue further - our attention turned towards the pointer: there is the object we know as body, our familiar form, yet pointing still to the very source that holds this view, do we find an actual viewer? On evidence of what is seen there is nothing to be found. To keep pointing is to investigating an emptiness of allowance. We clearly won't find an object where the head should be, not by sight alone, and even touch tells only of sensations. We are headless. But we are not forsaken of identity - our pointing shows that where our head should be is the source that holds all things as one existence. Who we are is this source and once pointed out it can no longer be denied. The one thing without location, the template for objects to be, the spaciousness that connects, contours, and gives meaning to form and functions. This is who we are - and we see this in the simplicity of pointing.

~

Running brings us to amazing landscapes - and to know, to actually point in wonder not just towards the outward beauty, but also to the very source that allows this view, that removes us from mere observation to the actual participant of all creation. We are runner, and artist, but more so - we are the art as well.

Peace,

Eric