lived - it's not my life at all but a
given expression of the
whole,
shown as my distinction.
~
in this way I find myself divinely powerless, life in constant fashion holding sway to my direction. I am expressed as surely as a leaf is given from a tree, or blade of grass emerges from and yet always remains an expression of earth. There is no purpose of my own other than this life, a fullness of Being displayed in very own appearance.
It's all a mystery.
Perhaps even to itself - and so I find myself
astounded by every moment
that's given.
The true and only miracle is to find ourselves aware of this at all.
Peace,
Eric
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