Only Real Moment of My Existence

The only real moment of my existence:

and while it's true that now is a constant, the only real moment of my existence - it isn't static, a fixed position that I arrive to. No, it's motion itself, fluid in it's allowing nature. Everything I experience is now, always now, and yet each moment is unique in what it offers, never lasting past its brief point of presentation before becoming something new. Now is ever changing and yet available though a lifetime, singular in its perspective and still containing all the world. 

This, than, right now writing words, drinking coffee, aware of the sun making it's way to light my room - this, is the only real moment of my existence. Until I note its motion. Already the words have changed, coffee less by every sip, and the sun has lit my room. But still, it's always now, somehow remaining fully present to all that changes. 

Noting this, I find a certain timelessness in my life, that something stays aware through every point of observation. I make no claim to understand this, to speculate on how this came to be, or add a label as to what this could be called. It simply is. And somehow too it's what I am - a sense of stillness amidst the motion, an observer to my own unfolding scene, nowhere am I found separate from it all. Seamless. This, right now, is the only real moment of my existence - whatever it is that's found, and everything belongs. 

~

Peace,

Eric