this, and nothing is found - yet this doesn't mean emptiness through absence, but that what is here, right now, this, is constantly shifting in appearance. This moment is empty of anything lasting past its single point of being, and then there comes another instant in its becoming. Our world is motion. So nothing is true in any lasting effect, a flower seen once and then already presenting itself anew. And too, this moment bring us to our own brief touch of now, never to be exactly - as this again. As we are, we will never be repeated.
Peace,
Eric
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