Potential

Potential:

of it's potential, and every page holds this as a promise - the first and always emptiness of it's allowing nature. No amount of words will ever truly fill a page. Even through their appearance, given phrase and paragraphs to add until it seems a limit is found, emptiness remains as the reality of it all. What allows each word its individual existence, and brings meaning to the point they gather - it's the underlying capacity of their hold. 

emptiness is always inherent to the page. 

no difference is found through life, everything relies upon an original emptiness to simply be alive. Our bodies reflect this by their own spaciousness. Infinite cells and molecules all reside within us, and still we remain largely space itself. What we are is never truly fulfilled but always within the process of losing aspects of ourselves that no longer serve, an emptying, returning to original nature in order to again know ourselves as more. 

it's how we grow, it's how everything grows.

a seed must remain empty of any true sense of self - it's reality is one of potentiality for being a flower, or a tree. It holds the promise of stems, branches, leaves and blossom. A seed is true in every stage of its becoming, at every point is its fulfillment. We are no less through any period of our own becoming, always in process and yet complete at every moment too. 

emptiness provides for our potential.

so we are empty of any real self, and this allows for us to continuously be wonder of ourselves through every moment. This present emptiness holds us without limit, a constant reinterpretation of ourselves, that we are never quite the same from the moment of before. Our potential is always fulfilled by virtue of what we are right now. 

we are empty...of all but promise. 

~

Peace, Eric