Aliveness

This aliveness: 

it's all there is - this aliveness, happening on its own, and to absolutely no one at all. This is life through wild course of its occurrence, inclusive to the point that nothing else is found. I am are submerged completely in this, surrendered as motion, and even my belief of individual self and experience is drowned by the current's rush to ocean. 

just this aliveness.

alone.

there is no sense to deny the existence of a self, that it's a subjective expression of the whole, brief, fluid, and never quite the same from any moment to the next. It's a phantom made solid by belief. But it's not and never was the truth of who I am. As for that I have no answers, it's a mystery deeper than I know, yet I am fully in its hold. It's enough to find myself present, aware, and not give in to any speculation of an answer. This aliveness fills my every moment, and that I exist is only by its pleasure. That a self appears is part of this wonder, an experience uniquely of my own, but still only a dream within the whole. 

so many contradictions; an individual self and yet a claim of just aliveness, life in singularity but imagined now in parts. It's the paradox of existence, embracing what occurs without investment as a lasting truth. I don't know anything at all. But there is the experience of things, of objects, self, and world. At the very same time there is no experiencer found, no entity to boldly claim every experience as its own. There is only this aliveness, aware and nothing more. 

alone.

~

Peace, Eric