Monday, October 18, 2021

Without Translation


Without translation:

for right now, it's all without translation, the morning comes to me in hushed tones of life waking just before the sunrise - listening, without need to name what's heard, nor label each sensation on its arrival, simply sitting, allowing it all to find me...

exactly as it is.

later, perhaps only moments so, my mind will offer descriptions to what unfolds - I will hear birds of different songs, animals in retreat to nearby woods, and early rise of neighbors. But briefly, just  before my mind is ready to process the arrival of the day, it's all without translation,

just the listening.

alone.

it always feels like the morning meditates completely on its own, a private affair, ancient, and that I'm privileged to finally recognize its call to join. My only requirement is to be without agenda, not to give myself cause for anything to happen, no pressure to belong. Everything is set up with perfect ease, the morning already with a wish for my participation. I only have to listen, and even this is natural to my waking. So I don't offer anything, just presence, not seen as exclusively mine, but presence of the world, life, and it's found right here, now, always. 

a natural meditation.

~

Peace,
Eric 








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