None of this has to be, life happens in its own accord, and mystery allows for the grace of our appearance. The miracles of it all is beyond understanding, recognizing our own emptiness as the capacity that holds the world, that we alone are the divine spark given to form to rise from our formless nature, that we are the play of one thing acting in dualistic pleasure simply to know ourselves briefly as another. It's astounding. None of this has to be - and yet it is. For which I'm grateful.
~
Why we run is part of the mystery. Sometimes grace occurs. Run grateful.
Peace,
Eric
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