to this we attend - even briefly to note the spaciousness between thoughts, words, and every object. It's here we explore, inquiring, seeing how one thing simply gives way to formlessness and only then lends itself to the appearance of something other. Yet always there remains just one thing. There is no break from sky to ground, we breathe the same air that's touched upon clouds - nowhere will we find a line to offer division between objects and the space between. This is the openness of nature, one thing allowing itself to the form of earth, while still retaining it's formless air. It's all happening here, this moment, and we are not excluded from this play of nothing in it's sudden becoming of things - our truth is as much emptiness as object, capacity as what's held, and view as well as seer.
~
Peace,
Eric
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