Nothing To Return To

 

Nothing to return to:

there is nothing to return to, no normal life where I belong - without rush I find myself only in this moment, accepting the certainly that the world belongs exactly as it is right now. With equal grace I know that this too will change, life being motion, and that my own acceptance of the moment may shift to strong desires. Everything belongs. 

it's about relaxing, as I am and as things are, right now - there is no reason for things to be imagined otherwise, or that I am able to manipulate reality to fit my will. This is reality, present moment always, and it's constant in surprise, never once truly repeated, life in its full allowing nature. Of course I don't always find myself aligned with what's appearing, wishing more for a sense of ease than accepting what is found. That's just the way it happens, getting caught up in the currents of my mind. But again, and as often as it appears, I find myself relaxing in the faith of all that's given, there is no escape from now, life will continue offering itself through infinite fashion - and this is my acceptance. 

so this is it, for now my life includes the disorder of the virus, a certain amount of fear and a great deal of unknown circumstances sure to be appearing. It's the reality of the moment and no amount of wishing for a previous way of living will return it as before. But it's changing, things are already shifting to new reality of the moment and it's this very motion that gives me cause to carry on. Things will soon be other than they are right now. There is no past for my return, just the acceptance of this moment, continuous in process - it's here, always, where I belong. 

`

Peace, Eric

Of Between

 

Awareness of between:

of noting empty spaces - and this becomes a meditation on the whole, a seamless existence viewed and heard through the distinctions of the world. It's seeing, a true sight that doesn't overlook how an object comes to be defined through the capacity of which its held. And the same as well with listening, all meaning - from thought to sound, is brought by an awareness of between, each word given space to be formed completely, and from this vibrations become meaningful, shared, expressed in ways that shape the world. 

emptiness is my own allowing nature, as each experience simply seems  to fold within itself and continue, unlimited in supply. There's always room for more. This too brings me space to mourn, to find joy, and the differences found between. I am enriched by what's allowed, my capacity serves to hold it all, and more it exists to lend itself as the very substance of the world, emptiness somehow gathered now as form, yet still formless in it's allowing nature. 

in this light, there is no true between, no space that isn't touched between us that is also not our continuation as the whole. To say that we are one in someways misses this connection, dismisses the unique things we offer to the world, to each other. What I am, what I find myself to be when noting empty spaces - is whole. I also find that this includes you, in all of what you are, your distinctions, experiences, everything that you offer to the world. Your wholeness is mine as well. We are touched by the same emptiness, capacity in service for the other. 

just wholeness.

of noting empty spaces - and all the world is found. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Not Other Than

 It's not other than:

not other than - but simply as it without need of my description. My words will only add conceptual layers to the pure reality of awareness. Yet writing too has its own purity, layers belong to offer meaning to the world, and words tell the story of their appearance just by giving form within the emptiness of a page. It's seeing how this all flows in a seamless expression of the whole, nothing becoming that didn't exist before, but only shifting in my view. 

this is where I find myself, at once a description of long held beliefs as well as an aware understanding that allows my world to be described. One doesn't seem any more true than the other, it's reality as the whole, that an appearance comes to serve through this capacity for however brief it may belong. There is no point of contention here, no argument that I one or the other - what I seem to be is just the allowing, a verb in constant expression, sometimes believing it's a noun. 

so it's a restful place to be, always here, without questions of existence - an allowing life that simply flows on without agenda, not other than an appearance, and not than the space for it to be. There is really no description, but in someway every word demonstrates a certain truth. What appears is here, even if only brief in imagined form. 

of course none of this is completely so, not true and yet not false as well. It's just my own description, words from this moment given to the page. 

~ 

Peace, Eric 

Never Just The Same

 

Never just the same:

not quite so again - each moment being a subtle rebirth, shifting in ways not noticed but never just the same. Life is always motion, completely offering itself anew. It's the only promise I'm aware of, and one I find fulfilled through qualities of experience. 

just listening, to hear a sound truly play out from silent plain, seamlessly emerging and yet never apart in essential nature - it's all one thing, this listening, equal in silence, sound, and my own participation. What I hear is an allowing-ness, qualities to be expressed without hindrance to their play. Through this, no note is ever just the same, silence being the great offering for sounds to be unique in every way, infinite listening happening now. 

as well as the view, there is never the same object, and at no point is another item not allowed - my capacity to see is endless, always expanding with a willingness for the world to change in its expression. It's as if I find myself an artist with a self-manifesting landscape, brush strokes constantly bringing life to new appearance, and even unseen ways of life in altering design. All I see is change, being a witness to my participation as motion, a rebirth through each instant of a shared becoming. 

nothing lasts longer than the moment it's been given, just a brief expression that never really belonged for observation. Reality is only seen through motion. With this, I find myself grateful for a slowed perception, being appreciative to what seems a captured moment. It's a gift really, that life offers itself in such a way as to always allow every aspect it's expression, unique in every possible distinction, as well the illusion of a certain sense of timelessness for its appreciation. 

it's never just the same, and this too holds my own promise to be continuous in what I offer - there is nothing that holds me to what I ever was before. I am only, always now. Here, my own rebirth to every moment. 

~

Peace, Eric 

No Agenda

 

No agenda:

as for me, I just found myself with a wish to drop it all - no longer the host of labels long collected, with little need to know myself as anything more than simply being. Everything still belonged, life continuing exactly as before. But now I run, without being a runner. I meditate for just this moment on the cushion, no promise of anything more. I write with no agenda, little concern for any meaning I may offer - I simply like the sound words. 

this is the ease of being, nothing sacrificed to be anything other than what I am right now. I won't give it further labels. Of course life still brings complications, and often I am lost again in the details of the world, a quick forgetting of myself as I participate in life's demands. But I never truly become anything, nothing sticks past the moment that it happens. It's a nice taste of freedom, knowing that life will be exactly as it is without control from me, that I don't have to maintain a certain role, or uphold an image or a label. 

it's enough to be. 

even more, it's all I ever truly am - being, an aspect of life that's dynamic in expression. What could I possibly add to this? And why would I bother? Identity is a heavy weight to carry through the world, and brings little in the way of true joy. At some point, through no effort, nor will of my own, I simply lost track of this agenda. It's not that I have no identity, I still relate to the world in all the ways before - but I don't have to do anything for this to be, there's no agenda to weigh me down any longer. I'm lighter. 

that's enough for me, a lighter sense of being. It's an unearned grace and one I'm grateful to have found. So life continues, a bit more joy noticed than before. With that, I write these words with no agenda - simply liking how they sound. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Life Directly

 Life directly:

without real meaning, nothing said in description that captures any sense of true - it's the experience of life directly that gives hint of what I am, reality always being just this present moment. Everything else is added after this, a memory assigned a certain weight of detail to the mind. Things become meaningful only after passing, a passion for an experience now gone. 

yet this present moment is always open, a fresh invitation to know myself through new unfolding of what life offers. It's right here that listening occurs, sound arising without addition of labels, silence lending itself to the expression of vibrations. It's a true moment. To this I bring description, in a wish to share I write of morning silence broken gently by a single note that grows to complete song. I'll write of how this song was given to me in beautiful chorus, an early gift from the birds outside my window to start my day. This too is true in a way, but not directly so - the moment itself was simply, only listening. Pure, and without my interference, nothing to be added. 

to write of any of this is a delay in my description, always a memory of past moments, giving meaning to what's gone. But it's the present moment that offers me this opportunity, to write of past experience takes place right now, there is no escape from the reality of this moment, and no need to hold a constant vigil of mindfulness to attention. Life is always here, always now. 

relaxing as this, aware, and allowing - meaning will follow, a story will be told. 

~

Peace, Eric 

What I Am

 

What I am:

as to what I am, and this seems of greater interest than asking who I find myself to be - it all begins with the solid things of life, my assurance of body and then moved to the more subtle aspects of thought and mind. I am made of intricate parts that somehow form a whole, a design of wonder made to navigate its way through life. Yet each part is smaller still, from cells to molecules and atoms, and further still I come to particles that make the very structure of my existence. Things get even smaller from here, until the very substance of what I am - simply disappears. 

but nothing is discarded from the whole, what I am is complete through pieces as well as the formlessness that holds this all together. 

as well, I find myself much larger than appearance - I exist as an exchange of breath and air, atoms traded in vast continuation, shared as one body. What I am touches you and onward to another, and so we find ourselves as an endless reach of true connection. Through this, I continue with a lost sense of I, no longer personal and yet nothing essential left behind. 

what I am is infinite without direction.

of course the simple answer is that I don't really know what I am, naming parts and speculation tell me nothing true at all - and that's the answer-less answer that most satisfies me, that I am nothing at all, as well as the collected whole. One thing in aspect of appearance. What I am, right now, is aware, a knowing sense of just this moment - no answers given, and no questions needed. 

simply this

~

Peace, Eric 

No True Becoming

 

No true becoming:

at what point is there a true becoming? As if something is revealed to now find itself complete, finished through every aspect of life, a singular expression of all it was ever meant to be. Is a flower the end result of seed to bud and nothing more after? 

this is an inquiry of continuation, of never quite becoming truly one thing - it's a simple observation of life in constant motion and never settling to an end point of creation. Through my own life I see myself in clear stages, from child to adolescent and then adult, that I became a child and then through years and experience emerged to the next part of my journey. Even as an adult I now move to later years, never once reaching a single moment where I could declare a finished passage. Life is just too subtle to ever exhibit a finished product. I am not the end result of a lifeline leading to this moment, there is no pause to celebrate my completion. Even now I am in motion, already moved on in my becoming, and no label can be applied to this continuation. 

the mystery remains of what next becomes a flower - after petals fall to winter's touch has it ceased in its becoming? I'm not looking for final answers, this isn't an inquiry of what's eternal. From my perspective I see a flower as brief expression, an aspect of life given bloom and then moved on. There was no true becoming. Just life, flowering. 

so right now, I'm not becoming anything true at all, no greater purpose or higher place of being - there's just life and I'm offered my own points of brief expression, a chance to bloom and then move on. To becomes something settled, even for a moment, is an illusion. Reality, it seems, is always motion. But I am grateful for illusions all, a flower, and my own moment given bloom. The mystery remains of what becomes after....

~

Peace, Eric 

No More Complete Than Now

 

No more complete than now:

when I am - as if there's ever a true arrival and not always here and now. This is it, the full extent of all I'll ever be in the most important sense of being. Yes, my views will most certainly shift, life will be expressed in different ways and I will grow to meet them, continuing too as a unique expression. I will change. But I will never become something other than the fullness now found, no more complete than now. There is no when in this expression - only the moment shifting in perspective. 

of course this is the language of time, measuring life through comparison and the contrast of events. I see my own life unfold through seasons, growing older, and seemingly becoming something other than before. Yet my sense of being aware, that which holds and observes without measure remains unaffected by it all. Life continues, untouched by my concerns. 

so it's a different language all together, perhaps not able to be spoken, written, but only experienced through life's expression. When I drop all expectations of becoming something - let's say enlightened, awakened, or simply more aware - there is only what I am right now, alive, complete in every aspect of just being. I always find that I'm enough, no need to add qualities to this sure existence, life itself provides my every mean without my expectations or interference. The language of being - is life. 

when I am - is now. This my moment to be alive, my moment of breath and heartbeat, to be aware and note in wonder of my own existence. Things will change. But I will never be other than this essential sense of being. Everything else is just a quality, an experience brought through life. It's never something that I become. I am - already. 

~

Peace, Eric 

A Deeper Engagement

 

A deeper engagement:

it's a deeper engagement now, my attention turned towards this allowing space in the same moment that details of the world emerge. I find myself noticing the appearance of things, how a sound seems to come from an empty, silent field of listening, and the view expands in order to hold one more thing, never at a loss in its capacity to allow. There's infinite space for the world to be, a seamless trade of formlessness to the unique becoming of every form imagined. In this same way I find myself in equal fascination with my own sense of spaciousness as well as self, that I am as much, if not more, capacity as well as form. I am engaged with my becoming. 

this too is the true source of inspiration, mystery whispering from the void with a hint of insight and understanding - what I write is nothing really, words being lent form and meaning by the emptiness of screen and page. It's grace received, suddenly gifted with just the right word, or nature aligns for the perfect photo to be captured. To be an artist is to simply be aware of this engagement, a patient, intuitive knowing of what arrives, on its own terms, as the revelation of the moment. 

my engagement is always here, happening even without my conscious involvement, my participation not dependent on attention. Yet it's that easy, mindful noting of how it all appears that holds allure, of being aware of how the world is both sudden and subtle in each moment of its appearance. Before these words, there's the silent mind that allows for their expression. Both exist at once, seamless in grace and inspiration. To be engaged is simply, only, the gratefulness of this exchange. 

~

Peace, Eric 

No True Argument

 No True Argument:

only accepting, at all times reality welcomes, and all that I offer in return, from arguments otherwise to refusal to believe, are instantly embraced as well. Nothing is excluded. In knowing this I save myself the effort of denial, sometimes at least, as some pain is difficult to imagine as belonging. Yet by virtue of appearance - there is no true argument against this. 

everything belongs.

this is always, a constant welcome of all things brought to my awareness - it's not a matter of what I might wish for, my preference of how life should be in some particular order. It's just what is. Unconditional in acceptance. To align with this, in whatever way I find myself able, is to be at peace with reality. From this point on it becomes possible to join with life in what is present, a pivotal energy of allowing and shifting to the next viable path that's offered. 

life is the art of co-existing, not a personal creation but one of sharing my own unique expression with the greater showing of the world. To fight with reality simply robs me of my only true power, that I am an aspect of life in its acceptance, opening fully to what's found present and still able to shift perspective through my creative role of being. I am an artist without chosen medium, given all the tools to belong within the very source of art. Believing that I wield a personal power of any sort of destination is to become hopelessly lost in this design. Life continues in its course regardless of any influence I might offer - yet seeing myself in intricate belonging with it all allows me a creative. momentary, opportunity of sharing my expression with the world. 

to be an artist, that alone is my only sure power. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Expressed Without Ceasing

 

Expressed without Ceasing:

perhaps with no true moment, nothing defined by break in continuity, and no matter how subtle a certain quality continues shifting to another presentation. I find my life isn't made of captured instant's, no point so important as to stop the flow of time. I've continued, altered in a sense by circumstance, but always going, life being expressed without ceasing. 

in this sense it seems that nothing really happens, without cause that leads to further events, no end result of karma - just life, motion, a constant becoming of itself through the change of its appearance. It's seen through the seasons, a vibrancy shown as green and later in the colored leafs of autumn. Life never ceased in order to become another season, there's no need to warn a life of what it will become. Everything is always changing. There isn't really separate seasons, only motion offering a shift to my perspective, another expression to be noted. 

with no true moment there comes a certain timelessness to the qualities that I notice, with my attention turned to the seasons change I find myself with less concern of colder days, the length of light taken, and landscape grown barren. Winter will be expressed in its own way, however it unfolds to this particular season. Yet the worlds in motion, with winter just an offered mood, infinite qualities already shifting to another presentation, never lasting past point of my attention. 

so the moment is always now, no matter what season's found, and now is always motion, fluid, and expressed without ceasing. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Between The Pieces

 Between the pieces:

sometimes I break, infinitely shattered by the impact of a force unknown, and showing little of my depression to the world. Of late there's been anxiety attacks in the middle of the night, shaken from sleep in a dead heat panic and unable to flee or fight. I sit with it, I pace, breathing patterns altered to help bring a semblance of returning peace. It happens. Sometimes several nights a week now. There's also an always near low weight sadness that seems to lurk, stalk, my everyday. I don't hide it, but I function fairly well through it's presence, smiling even, laughing, and not forced in offering a brave face - it's simply part of how my life is expressed, not chosen, just here, present, and my life goes on. Sometimes I break, and all I can do is rest between the pieces. 

you've been broken too, whoever's reading this now, life has brought you low and maybe to the point where it seems unreachable to a bare minimum of what may bring comfort. I'm sorry. Nothing I write will be helpful, but please know that there's a presence to these words, someone simply offering some space to share - our own place-less belonging, together here. 

this isn't a self-help piece, it's not offered as a showing of how I beat depression, overcome anxiety, and abide in peaceful understanding. Sometimes I break and stay broken until the pieces find their own way to bring themselves together. I don't overcome anything. Some will need medication, help from those trained in mending what seems broken. Perhaps I do too. It's been offered. But mostly, I find myself dealing with what appears in the moments that they come, that this is what life offers now, and for long stretches of time I'm genuinely happy with what arrives. Until I'm not. Then it's different, of course, and I find some useful methods that have helped me through before - mostly though I don't seek an escape route from the moment. It's not about accepting, that's already been done the very instant whatever's happening appears. This is about belonging - and what I offer myself is the compassion that I belong completely to this moment, nothing needs to be altered, life does that on it's own. My role is to simply break when that seems the only option, to bring a tenderness to what's found between the pieces, knowing that the mending too happens on its own. I've come to this point after years wanting something other, and things always being just the same. Life has brought to a present understanding. 

so I greet you from between the pieces, knowing that we share this space together. All I offer is company, bringing my own tenderness to what you hold. 

I love you, Eric 

To Be Added

 

To be added:

existing before a single concept, without layers of a self to be described - this is the simplicity of being, my truest bottom line. What I find myself to be is an allowing point, everything comes to this to be added as a story, a providing place for life to be described. I am the capacity for meaning, to know of beauty, grace, and sorrow defined. 

it's all added here, from bare existence to my story told, everything belonging as an aspect of life expressed in wonder of itself. If anything were excluded I would somehow be less, and yet still existing in a perfect sense of being. I am not defined by layers, but their addition brings qualities to be explored, a texture of self to be touched by my attention. Life is generous in this offering, expanding as possibilities to be briefly known before again going on as mystery. 

what's added, is really only more life brought to this awareness - I am given qualities of a single reach in a wish to know itself as a caress. In this light I am what's discovered as well as the quest to be explored, air in existence as the wind. One thing. 

so nothing is really added, just a revelation of self in various form and then told as if a story. It's life defined by meaning assigned through its own participation. Of course this too is but a layer, mere words to an endless expression. What I offer is an aspect of this giving briefly to its meaning - as life continues flowing on. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Directionless

 

Directionless:

in both directions now, this is how things appear - a view that shows form, objects, and the world at large, while too revealing my own sense of spacious holding. Of course it only seems to flow in any one direction, an outward glance to find the world and a reflective gaze to find my true self. Reality shows me that there is only, ever, at once, directionless, and continuously unfolding. By virtue of presence, I find myself as the center of it all, seamless, aware of my capacity to hold the world within my view. This is the language of seeing, reality with a small r, and not to be mistaken as anything but my own experience of how things are. It's an inquiry from my morning perspective. 

and yet - at any moment there is just this same thing, my view being a constant revelation of things appearing through an empty capacity, and if I wish to turn and look for any source for this allowing, I find only an aware sense of being, almost bewildered by all that's now appearing. It's easy enough to see, my capacity, limitless in allowing content, is always present in what seems to be the back end of the view, and from here the world unfolds. But it's a trick of the senses, lending to the belief that there is such a thing as directions, that there is a source separate from what's appearing. 

what I find myself to be is directionless, a seamless display of an all allowing nature. One thing. A direct experience of being. Nothing needs to be proven, there is no evidence other than exactly what's appearing now. Every word here is a demonstration not description, the page in open capacity for what's told. Writing itself is true, even if every world seems to tell a lie. With this in mind I offer only an inquiry from my morning perspective. 

giving no directions. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Without Me

 

Without me:

that it's all done without me, both personal and the world at large - from functions of breath, heartbeat, and individual senses, all the way to air and sun and the life force that's been given. It's all done without my own will added to the story, no effort for any of this to be, and I find myself continuously amazed that it's so easy to simply belong to it all. Life, so it seems, demands nothing from me. 

of course it's argued that I must to work to survive, money for the vital things of life - yet my essential self is alive without struggle, my breath is given in free exchange of air to life, and the sun offers light in a touch without discrimination. This is the true ease of being and in no way dismisses that life is often hard and brings me sorrow. To find myself alive is to know the taste of all life offers, it's being complete, whole, and in the same sense as the sun there is no discrimination in its reach. 

each morning I greet a ready world, everything fully made in working order - there is no need to manifest a sun to light the day, I make no demands for my heart to keep a steady rhythm, there is no wait for air to find me. Everything simply is. Ready. I am matched with this grace of belonging, effortlessly waking to the world in my own readied sense of being. Anything else is an added story. Each morning I greet the world with a prayer of gratitude that it continues without me, receiving it all as a gift that requires so little from me, my participation perceived as a bonus to its expression. As a true gift I've done nothing to deserve this, nothing to make it happen. Life is freely given - and I'm grateful that it's so. 

~ 

Peace, Eric 

Always Sudden

 

Always sudden:

in some ways each moment is always sudden, that I find myself in new surroundings appearing just the same - but nothing is ever static, even stillness allows for the motion of the world, and right now through subtle means I come to something that's never been before. 

it's a true rebirth, this moment being a collection of past material, particles regathered to familiar form, and memories in reminder to just how things should be. This is the constant reassembling of the world, always in motion, and always sudden in its new becoming. Appearances deceive, and what seems the same now belongs only to the instant it's observed, already changing, and never again offered in this unique way. This is the real miracle of existence, my own continuous becoming along with each new moment - I am just as sudden, completely different in so many subtle ways.

for all of this I am so grateful, each moment is granted as if a wish were made for more possibilities to observe, my perspective freed from a limited past, and now a chance for new participation with the world. I find myself beginning again, and truly from an original rebirth - right now, nothing has ever been written before, each space that follows my last word hangs as a promise to be fulfilled. And this goes on, suddenly, always, seeing the world remaking itself, aware that I behold creation itself in continuous play. It's a gift that's often taken lightly, and yet right now, it's offered once again - and I catch myself at just the right moment to write this in full appreciation for the sudden world that I've been given. Thank you. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Life Only Welcomes

 Life only welcomes:

never saying no - life is continuous in its acceptance, whatever appears instantly belongs without argument to say otherwise. My life is a testament to this, filled by moments of misfortune in perhaps equal measure to what's been cherished. To be alive is to welcome all that comes without delay, and even any argument against this becomes part of this reality. Life only accepts. 

this includes loss, that which feels taken is part of this belonging - to lose what's loved is to find that sorrow has now been welcomed, grief to be expressed as an adjustment to this change, an understanding that the present moment now holds a tender new reality, and one that needs much offered love and compassion. 

there is no bias here, life only welcomes, and to know this brings me a certain peace even as I counter it with a denial of my own. There is much I don't understand, so much to question of both past and what's to come - and yet there are no true answers, at least not that I have found, none that provide any sense of permanence and safety from life changing. What I've arrived to is not answers, but the grace of mystery, a lessening of the need to understand why things happen, only that things are allowed without say from my authority. It seems that I too am welcomed guest here, accepted as an aspect of life, honored in a brief awareness of this existence. 

life only welcomes, and this is my only real insight. It's enough, providing an ease for my own acceptance of what is now, and what might later appear, that mystery too holds me in its grace, and that all is always welcomed, even if it's beyond my present understanding. 

~

Peace, Eric 

But I am Aware

 

But I am aware:

but I am aware, and this recognition seems to be the elusive prize so often sought for, a seekers quest for this particular philosophers stone. The irony, of course, is that this is never not so, from first breath there was clear awareness of life without story or things yet labeled, there was simply existence and newness of each experience. I knew nothing of life - but I was aware of something, perhaps only that I now existed in an a new environment full of wonder. 

to note that I'm aware is a reoccurring theme that plays throughout my writing, it's a momentary inquiry for me, a ritual of appreciation and gratitude for it to be so. I have no need to make it anything more than a thankful prayer - to be aware, and know that it's a gift, is to find myself endlessly fascinated by what appears, life in opportunity to explore every aspect that it offers. Even to be lost in thought provides a chance awakening, an interruption of a current trend of thinking to the sudden realization of being aware to thoughts passing. 

taken just a bit further - there comes an investigation into the seamless, that I am aware, and that there's no break between observation and object, that listening is the silent embrace of sound, and sensations are experienced in a present understanding. To be aware is the common note. Everything takes place here, my world occurs in awareness, and I see no line drawn to separate your world from mine. This isn't a claim of anything other than my own insight of each moment I've explored. I have no need to be proven right that this is so, or that it's different for someone else's insight. I enjoy that I'm aware, that life is a surprise unfolding in nuance, subtle shifts of motion, and sometimes a sudden shock to the senses. Life is always changing, offering itself anew in every moment - but I am aware, and grateful that's so. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Already Devoted

 

Already devoted:

to be as this, as I am now, already devoted to what appears and intimate in the sense that it all belongs. This is truly the path of unconditional love, and it's not one that's been chosen but simply the way reality seems to unfold to me. This devotion isn't one of worship, it's simply the recognition that life continues to surprise, and that events conspire beyond what I can know - whatever will appear gains my attention, it's accepted instantly in my hold even if I wish to protest it's arrival and length of stay. I have no real say in what's allowed, again that's life in its agenda of continuation, a flow of all possibilities. 

what I am is part of life's agenda, a somehow possibility that appeared and found itself aware. Everything comes to awareness, regardless of my want or demands. To be devoted to life is to accept it all as it arrives, and this too may include a wish for things to be otherwise, and even action taken to make so. What appears belongs. Of course I don't always like this, and will find myself in a losing argument with how things are. Reality always wins. 

to be as this, as I am now, is to be aware. Awareness is without bias, it's unconditional by very nature and doesn't seek to measure what belongs and how long things may stay. It just accepts, and accepts, and always accepts more. It's neither satisfied nor aggrieved by what appears. I am aware, and more I am aware of my own appearance here, life given in individual aspect, distinct, yet also belonging fully to the flow. It's a unique position to find myself, at once allowing and questioning as well. This is how life is, for me and from my perspective. I won't argue with another's truth and hold my own extremely lightly. In an instant reality might prove me wrong. My devotion stays fluid, and only reflects a momentary occurring, motion - I am  devoted to how things are, now, and how will be sometime later, whatever comes to this awareness. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Continuously Fascinated

 

Continuously fascinated:

how could I not be continuously fascinated by my own participation with life? To be an explorer of each moment in a gentle inquiry of borders between my perceived self and the world that follows. There's nothing really to prove, it's a spiritual exercise to find my true existence. It's simply curiosity, a wondering of myself and the infinite means I play through life. 

right now for example - it's an easy enough moment of complex actions, with so little taken by my command. I make no effort to hear to the birds sing outside my window, each note arrives to my meet my listening, a waiting silence for just these notes to play. I am the reception for this song, a holding place for sound to transformed to music, my appreciation adding to its beauty. In this way I'm aware, participating, and have no cause to doubt that for just this moment I belong fully, completely, as the world. 

this is an endless path, an inquiry of watchful possibilities - any object can hold a story of a shared existence, that there is a same spaciousness that is allows us both to be, and that I find myself equal as observer as well as space, extending as a formless touch to know what comes to view. It's an intimate sense, a welcoming of all that arrives with this curiosity, and even my sense of unwelcome for some events find their place to be allowed. Everything belongs, and it all fits in some seamless fashion of its own come and go. I have little doubt that I belong to this as well. But right now, I exist, gifted to be aware and this is no small joy and wonder. I get to explore the world in every detail that it offers - and it all arrives through no effort of my own. The world is shared as my existence. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Just a Mindful Grace

 Just a mindful grace:

no more aware than this, right now, and all the moment holds - nothing more is added to awareness itself, there is no state of attainment to bring me closer to what's known. Yet with this simple realization the world opens to be explored. It's a new eagerness now, a sense of intimacy with what unfolds to my attention. Without wait there is always something, an experience of the senses - objects appearing in seamless vision, sounds emerging from a silent field, and the press of air felt against me. I find myself aware of it all without effort, just a mindful grace of noting what's now present with no need to make it more, to adjust the experience with any expectations. 

to be free - knowing there's no limits to what appears, everything in agenda with a mystery of its own, and my only course of action is to allow, respond, and allow still more. Life continues in its offer of experiences, a ceaseless flow of wonder, tragedy, joy and sorrow. To be aware offers no escape and none is needed. It's simply accepting what comes in the order that it's given, no bypassing an event that's found displeasing, nor making a wish for things to be other. Life changes on its own. What I am from is my own demands, and even their appearance give little concern, they belong in the same right as everything else that comes along, an aspect of life that I'm aware of. 

again, there is no effort to this, and it's not a magic fix to heal what might feel broken - it's life occurring as it's meant to, full, complete in the details of what's well lived. Nothing is excluded. Yet with this there does seem to come a certain sense of ease, surrendering any resistance to what's present now, and that it all happens on its own without intent or willful urge from me. This is aware, life, observing it's own participation. I cannot ever be more aware than I am in this moment. It's all found right here, now, and always. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Faith Through My Continuation

Faith through my continuation:

as a continuous response - life in full creative offering, spontaneous, and my own participation being equal to the flow. This is the true karma of being, simply action of each moment leading to the result of more action. It's how life goes, a process of self-creation, from a bud in early spring sunlight to its later summer bloom - everything responds in someway to what's offered.

my own response is mostly unnoticed, that my body is nourished by food supplied, to more subtle levels of cells acting to heal or replace themselves in a moment of their need. It's a higher wisdom than my own conscious mind and better left that way. I trust this sense of being to care for me without adding my concern, a response of faith through my continuation. 

yet all this plays through my awareness in someway - knowing I'm alive by response to what's given, no different than the flower bud in its own becoming, but aware that I am the process of life in action. What I am is karma in display, a momentary result already dissolving in response to what's appearing. It's continuous action, motion, and to be aware is just part of my own participation. Life happens and the universe vibrates in response to itself. I simply belong to this action, an aspect of life in constant vibration. 

in no way mystical, but still a mystery in its process - life continues. My faith is that I part of this continuation, if only for this certain moment, and that whatever comes next will be proper in response. It's not a faith of expectations. That I am alive, right now, is all I need to know. 

~

Peace, Eric 

A Momentary Presentation

 A momentary presentation: 

through each moment, and no less than transformed again in subtle ways of being - what I am is complete, but only in a sense of becoming, always offering something new in my expression. Life is motion, a verb in endless conversation with itself. To this than, I am joined in life's conversation, being drawn to participate in my own transformation. As life, I am constantly becoming in a new reality, shifting in creative tone, a process of momentary presentation. 

what I am right now has never been before, although my memories tell me different. But once there was nothing of me to be found, a void of all but promise, and somehow this was fulfilled by a single cell. This is life defined by intent, that something will become in continuation, from cell in infinite division to first breath drawn completely on my own. I have never ceased in this becoming, transformed in every instant in seen and unseen ways. I am still defined by life's intent. 

this moment is new, a unique presentation of itself, never lasting even as I seek to hold a cherished view. My memories too belong only to this moment, a mental snapshot of an event or object that was already in process of being something other. Reality is found only here, right now, this particular momentary presentation, and its an art of changing view. By next glance life is already something other, my own observation has transformed me as well. As this, life in transformation, I find myself continued, with no idea of what is coming next. There is grace in the mystery of intent. And in this - I place my faith. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Qualities of The Moment

 

Quality of the Moment:

so everything seems to be a quality of the moment, that to be aware is simply noting the mood of existence and what appears in its unfolding. This isn't any claim of a cosmic truth of any sort, and I make no promise that this is so for anyone but me. It may prove to be otherwise to my own perception as well, I wish to hold nothing past its point of my own observation. But right now I watch the easy flow of things, I listen to the morning song of birds and cars commuting in the distance. My immediate experience is the warmth of coffee in first sips, enjoyment of its bitterness that somehow still surprises me after thirty odd years of knowing its taste. I write, noting thoughts that turn into words and find their way to a complete idea across the screen. This too is always a surprise, finding myself each morning immersed in a creative mode, expressing whatever comes to mind in a unique way that belongs to only me. I am always grateful that words find me and that I have this time to write, observe my thoughts, and for coffee and the morning songs too. It all seems to come together in a perfect sense, that I am aware of each aspect without break from my attention, everything being expressed as a quality of the moment. 

again, I have no idea if this is true, and it doesn't really matter to me - I'm not in pursuit of any ultimate truth, my days of being a seeker have shifted to explorer, noting the present moment in only what it offers me for now. I allow myself the luxury of being, there's no rush to discover a single thing, relaxed in mystery, my only role is to write what occurs to me. It's a pretty easy gig. 

so here I am, drawing the morning to a close, last sip of coffee taken, and words concluding on their own. It seems this is where mystery has taken me, and I'm content with what's been told. This moment, as each will, has its own mood, qualities of infinite sources that found their way here, to be expressed, or perhaps just rest in this awareness. It's all shifting now, as it always is, even as I write of this experience. Yet the quality of the moment continues, offering a new expression, another aspect of mystery that belongs only to the grace of motion. No words will ever capture any of this. But if I'm lucky, a little bit of grace lingers in these words, a memory of qualities from moments long ago, experienced in some new way with every reading now. 

~

Peace, Eric 

I Am Always Ready

 

that I am always ready, everything received in the only moment that's available - and this too includes all the things that seem to catch me unprepared, from subtle shifts that change the day's agenda to sudden confrontations that bring questions to my faith. Everything is instantly accepted. This isn't to praise my sense of equanimity, nor give cause to mindful practice and meditation. It's about reality, how life is upended without notice and yet somehow, even with a strong denial, what appears now belongs without pause for me to say otherwise. Life happens through its own course of events and in most ways I am powerless in its current. But not helpless. It's in knowing that what is brought to this moment belongs by virtue of its appearance that allows me a certain sense spaciousness, and that my response is equal in this belonging, no matter any judgement of my own. 

it's not resignation, it's simply the reality of the moment and the awareness that this an experience of continuation - my reaction in its initial phase and then response to all that follows. There's no plan, there can never be a true plan for the spontaneous play of life. What there is, is the awareness of my own spontaneity, that I joined as life in its current, that I am motion, flexible, and all allowing too. By nature, I am always ready. No matter my response. 

so this is the readiness of being alive, life in continuous call and response, natural, effortless, and at no point is it ever any other way. I am always ready because I'm alive, the very same spontaneous play of life that delivers in surprise, nothing is excluded from my own sense of presence. It's reality - and in this awareness, everything belongs. 

~

Peace, Eric 

My Own Occurrence

My Own Occurrence:  

but I am aware, and this seems to be my one true claim, that I note my participation as life, an aspect of its flow with a sense of belonging to its current. Through this I find myself more fully involved than ever before, or perhaps more attentive to the details of certain moments. To be aware isn't abstract, or a one off affair of any special quality. It's daily life, happening with the realization of my own presence though each instant, unwavering, and without need of my assistance. What I find now is my own entanglement, that I'm not removed as some passive observer of events, but fully immersed in the qualities of experience. What occurs is my own occurrence. 

it's all pretty simple really, and it took no special teaching for this to be - to be aware is just noting my own existence, that I am alive, and more that I know this to be so. It's an easy awakening. This is the intimacy of belonging, knowing that each moment is here, now, on my own insistence of being, my experience of what's present is the experience of myself. 

so life continues - but I am aware and this does make some difference. Not in any magical way, but in an ease of wishing for things to be otherwise. It's the simplicity of being present. This isn't a call for mindfulness of every detail that occurs each moment. To be aware happens in the same manner as the heart beat, in the natural draw of breath and its release. I am relaxed through this all, my own easy breath of being aware, involved in the moment by virtue of being present. Nothing has changed from any other moment of my existence. But I'm aware - and grateful that I know it.

~

Peace, Eric 

My Own Coming Autumn

 

My own coming autumn:

it's a season of letting go, of leaves in a brief flash of color and then released to the ground - it's hours gone to growing darkness, and warmth to colder touch of sun. Yet I feel no real sense of loss, perhaps a small sorrow for times passage, a growing sense of age and my own coming autumn. No leaf clings to a branch with any hope of skipping seasons. What comes is its own release, a moment not chosen but accepted once arrived. Life happens, nature, and letting go leads to winter, barren branches and bitter cold. It's often a time of struggle, it is for me, cold touches me deeper now, to the bone and seemingly all the way to the soul. I miss the longer days, more time in the comfort of sun, and I mourn for the loss of green, it's vibrant proof of life offered in display. 

it's autumn now, winter not so far, and everything is in the midst of change. I have no idea how many seasons I have left, none of us do, each of us coming to our own letting go. There is no sure way to prepare for this, to surrender a certain moment for the uncertainty of whatever comes next. It happens on its own, nature's course that includes me in its flow no matter what I wish. But I do find myself prepared in a sense, that I am alive now, and my attention is turned to letting go, to my own coming autumn - each moment is its own season, a spring of existence concluded by the winters cold. It's a seasonal becoming, with no true ending, seamless, one thing letting go of its own sense of being in order to continue as the whole. 

there is a letting go, now, and at once there is a new becoming, life offering itself in a new display of both loss and wonder. It's a full season, not just autumn to winter and all that follows, but the continuation of existence, life eternal in this very moment. No, I have no idea of how many seasons I have left, but I am assured of my own letting go, that it's happening now even as I write, and the next word will come in a season of its own. Each moment is a small letting go - yet somehow still...life continues in its flow. I am not a season set apart, and aware of this, until my final letting go, I continue too. 

~

Peace, Eric 

A Certain Grace and Awe

 A certain grace and awe:

existence is enough, just being, and accepted as life in its unique flow of events and my own awareness of this happening. Nothing needs to be added to this, no afterlife that adds a greater promise, nor a special state of higher power. It's enough for me to exist, to simply be, and to know that I'm aware, and indeed I find myself in a certain grace that this is so. 

it takes no effort for me to exist, not for the bare essence of being - my existence is cared for without concern, a heart that functions in a rhythm of life, lungs that give measure to exact breath to stay alive, and infinite functions of cells, molecules and further still particles that have somehow danced my form to life. It's a miracle of being, and all this for the sole and only purpose of my life. I spend no small part of my day in gratitude. 

that I am alive is a gift, and there seems little enough to offer in return - my wish is to bring note to this awareness, a certain awe to life itself and how I find myself included in its hold. To exist is to be a displayed miracle through every moment, a testament to effortless function, and an aspect of life that has awakened to its own potential. That I am, alive, aware, in certain grace and awe - this existence is truly enough. 

~

Peace, Eric 

A Conspiracy of Being

 

A conspiracy of being:

it's all a conspiracy of being, that somehow the universe exist in such away for my existence, and in any one way from infinite chances it all simply could be other. I am because everything is just so, balanced, and harmonize for the sake of being. With no idea of why this is true and no wish to assigned a higher purpose other than a wish for life - I exist and this is cause for deep gratitude from my end. None of this ever had to be and only by great fortune it is so. I am alive and I am grateful. 

this is a conspiracy of what's unseen, not of power but of grace - it's a universe of design without a grand designer in place to call for order. It's existence in conspiracy with itself, perhaps surprised to find itself aware of all that is occurring, a spontaneous awakening expressed as individual sense of being. I have no idea and of course this is only speculation. To find myself aware is my own surprise, a big bang of smaller proportion yet equal measure - I have come from seemingly nothing, nowhere, and found myself a complete system of balancing events that all occur beyond any thought of my control. At this point I only know that I exist, an aspect of life with a wish to be expressed. 

a conspiracy of being, it's something that holds these gathered things together - without question I am infinite particles, molecules, and cells in a universe of personal concern. My body happens in a delicate harmony of events, a chemical reaction without cause for my response. In this sense too, I belong to events that host my sense of being, a universe of both chaos and tenderness, somehow perfect for me to be, and providing the means to be awakened. I seem to be in on this conspiracy in some curious way, to be aware of this fragile balance without fear of being unraveled through the endlessness of my surroundings. It somehow seems that I belong within it all, a point of light as true as any star. That's the tenderness of it, my belonging to it all, and that I don't unravel for the simple reason that there is elsewhere else for me to be. I am an arranged state within existence, a conspiracy of being, a gathering of stuff somehow found aware. 

~

Peace, Eric 

The Ease of True Being

 

The ease of true being:

so I find myself at ease in the deepest sense of being - that my body performs its every function of necessity without need of my concern. From cells to molecules and down to particles that somehow gather to hold this point of form, there is no effort of my own, no intent for this to be. This is the ease of true being, a synchronicity of events that keep my life in form and motion. It's a complete trust in nature and each moment defies odds for this continuation. But each morning I am graced with another day of being and for this my trust is held in awe and wonder. 

this is truly an unearned grace, to be gifted with a precision to participate so fully in life, finding myself aware of how fragile this all is, any one moment could lead my world astray. For me to approach life with anything other than a high degree of tenderness would seem to dishonor what's been give, That every cell and molecule continues in this gift, operating in perfect fashion and asking only to be expressed as what I am today. In this light I can only proclaim myself unconditional love, from every cell in service to my aware sense of being - I am love.

so yes, I find myself at ease, and even days that offer storms and darkness have found a way to belong. Life continues in its own mystery, and that it has dark clouds that appear as trouble is no more surprising than my appearance. My trust in life remains unshaken. I am a grateful participant, fully at ease through no effort of my own. It's the grace of true being.

~

Peace, Eric