turning my attention back towards the origin of the view, from whatever object found to a direct line in search of seer - and it's there I always find my absence, as well as the fullness of all that I am. It's an honest look, perhaps the truest thing I'm capable of ever really seeing. Everything else has been layered by the stories given through a lifetime. To truly see a tree is to dismiss all I've ever told myself, or believed about a tree - in the emptiness of a viewer, there is awareness of sudden form contoured within it's own formless nature. No lines to know of any divide, from earth to tree and on to sky, and too my own aware belonging.
But even this is just a story.
As it happens, it's a raw, story-less transmission of - wonder, mystery.
It's timeless.
Beyond the concept of time, actually.
And then I'm back, and it's all just another story - yet it's never quiet the same again, the belief in a self that owns a solid world is shaken to it's core. Shattered, really. This, then, is seeing, and it's always available, able to be repeated in any moment with no need to add a single thing. Anything added would only be another story.
What we are is just the seeing.
~
Peace,
Eric
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