So Seriously

So Seriously: 

only briefly, and not often, but sometimes for just a few moments before I begin writing there's just a little doubt that words will come to me, that without a specific theme to write of then I will struggle as a writer, lost, and unable to fulfill my wish of early morning writing. This really seems more of a memory from past writing days that visits me even now, making just a brief appearance, reminding me that once I took this all so seriously, having a need for words to prove myself a writer. That was my demand, expecting words to show at my convenience and unwilling, perhaps unable, to simply wait for their arrival. I was afraid of silence, taking it as a sign of failure as a writer, and didn't understand the vital role of patience. Writing happens on its own...and I'm only an instrument for its design. 

happily so. 

it's not taken so seriously now at all. 

I'm unafraid of silence.

it's easy to smile now at this memory, even when the ghost of my former struggles as a writer makes an appearance and attempts to haunt my early morning writing. I have no trouble waiting, enjoying the quiet before inevitable words reach me. Writing always happens, and without the need for writing to be taken so seriously, I'm free to enjoy the entire process, whatever words are written. I have no judgement, no demands, and hold my schedule loosely. 

writing happens. 

words appear. 

always.

and that's why I can afford to not take this all so seriously, to be relaxed in my approach to writing - a pen doesn't make any demands of it's use, keyboards are completely unconcerned as to what's written. I'm as easily an instrument as either of pen or keyboard, essential to the process, but only an ingredient non the less. It's ridiculous for me to make demands for words to show themselves at my convenience, or to find myself afraid of a silent wait before they show. Writing happens, and I'm just an instrument of this creative process, smiling that I ever once believed myself anything more. 

I don't take myself so seriously now at all. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Alive With Information

Alive with information: 

the better answer seems to be one of intelligence, not if the universe is consciousness or not but that everything is alive with information, coded and self-designed to be expressed exactly as it is. That seems to be the real mind blower to me, how everything within the universe knows how to gather itself as particles and energy and become specific objects. It's amazing that there is intelligence behind the formation of a dust mote, and that this same creative force knows to form every function of my body, and then as well to design galaxies and planets. There is information on how to be a dust mote, an exact recipe of particles, atoms, and the molecules of its small existence. This intelligence urges the cooperation of the same basic elements to cause a human body, a mind that can somehow reflect upon it's own creation, self-aware, and most of all - grateful to be exist at all. 

my body is alive with information.

that's the basic line of my cosmology, that I exist because the self-well of an intelligent system urged it so, created to be an aspect of this infinite arrangement, a dust mote of information that finds itself aware. I am alive with the information of the cosmos, and that I'm conscious is a reflection of this design. I am proof of this intelligence, self-evolved from single cell to the complexity of who I am now. That's my cosmology, my personal theory of evolution....that I'm alive with information. 

simply so.

and that nothing is ever lost with this - I'm an imprint of pure information, intelligence itself, coded within the very fabric of existence. An expression of all that is right now and has ever been before. It's an easy cosmology of self-reflection, gleaned through inquiry and quiet contemplation. Of course this doesn't mean that any of this is absolutely so, it's just a story after all, lyrically told of my existence. It's my own cosmology expressed in simple terms. Yet it's based upon a premise not to be denied....

that I'm alive with information. 

a universe of self-design. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Knowing

Of Knowing: 

there's a subtle difference here in terms of the moment, that we can only know something right now, immediate, and fresh to the mind and senses - but knowledge is the accumulation of all we've learned, with an often dry quality of history being memorized and repeated. There's value to both knowledge and knowing, yet only one is alive, direct within the present moment, and feeding our present curiosity to know and express the deeper meaning of the world. 

we thrive on the experience of knowing. 

and that's really the art of being alive, our ability to know things directly just by contact and experience and through this we gain a sense of creativity through which to express ourselves with new and present meaning. That's art, always vibrant, and even a past work of any creative display will again capture our attention with every possible view. Creativity is never about knowledge, although it can be a useful tool in many ways, but it's always our ability to perceive the world through the ready moment of the senses that we truly come to express our greatest and most creative truth to the world. Art is created right now, only now, and even later in display this aliveness is a force that gains and holds our attention. Any knowledge of art or artist is simply a memory and not a true part of aliveness. 

art is always immediate.

this is similar to meditation, that it takes place right now, and how the is mantra new and innocent through every repetition, revealing deeper aspects of this ever present moment. Meditation is an art and the mantra is the means of its expression. What we experience in meditation is a sure quality of knowing this moment, knowledge doesn't serve us here at all, and memories can't inform our senses nor do they fulfill our curiosity of what the presence holds. Only through our ability to perceive each moment directly do we come to deeply know our inner world. 

that's the art of meditation. 

it's art of truly knowing. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Information

Information: 

I think the moment tells us all, that everything about existence is revealed right now, there's no hesitation as to what information is given, but only if we truly listen. I'm not really talking about knowledge here, that's not my concern, my interest is in a deeper information, it's in hearing the intelligence of the soul and the secret that it whispers. This takes a different type of listening, discerning, not being confused by the surface noise of ego speak and the traffic of the world. It's in listening to silence, vibrations, to the subtlest notion of our being and how it allows for the world's emergence. Every sound comes from here, from this still point of existence, there is no outside source, and listening, we hear only life emerging. 

we hear the soul.

that's the information of my interest.

this is the secret of physics, mathematics, every philosophy, that it's all based on insight and great epiphanies with the details worked out later. The information itself was given in a moment, directly, and only when a true sense of listening was present, forgetting all the common knowledge of the subject, completely letting go of any previous concepts and being embraced by something entirely new, an idea, if even then only a glimmer. That's the grace of information, being always available, yet waiting for the mind to clear of it's preconceived notions. There is no sense wasting an idea on a mind that isn't ready to receive it. It seems that knowledge is our preparation for this surrender, accumulating beliefs, concepts, even facts on certain matters - but only through letting go do we receive information, and this is the opposite of knowledge, it's fresh, gleaning, available only to the moment that it's offered. 

now.

this isn't to devalue knowledge, but just to base a higher premium on direct knowing, to what the present moment tells us, and not rely so intently on the past. That's the vast difference between knowing, which is always of the present, available to us all, and the dry knowledge of what's been told to others and handed down to public. Some books are scriptures, filled with the words of those who wished to preserve a certain knowledge. Yet other books are alive with a holy fire, breathing with present information meant to burn the world of knowledge completely to the ground and give us fertile soil for starting over. It's about ideas, information, listening to what the world tells us now, now, always now. 

that's the information of my interest. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Karmic Recall

Karmic recall: 

it's all from memory, everything, a karmic recall of infinite length and intent, unfolding right now in revelation of its mystery. Our bodies contain the ancient memories of a star's explosion, DNA traced through centuries of ancestors and all the way to earliest microbes residing in the ocean. Nothing is ever really lost, no deep memory of existence wiped completely clean. Life just goes on through continuously changing form - and we exist within it all. 

it's all from memory.

everything. 

and that's truly what karma is, life expressed as the action of its on going process. We are the karma of infinite things and right now is the moment of fruition, an unfolding of every past event directly to our presence. What we are is an end-result, the karmic recall of life through the ages, and we are contributing to its motion, adding memories right now that will later be revealed. 

in this way nothing really ever dies, not in any final way. We are a storehouse of information gathered through time, and each moment is a karmic recall of what's been stored by every cell, and deeper still what's held by the essence of who we are, life itself, a common soul existing through us all. Our ancestors live on through this soul as well as in our bodies, and not just people traced by family line, but that life is our only true ancestor, and that we exist now by the process of  tiniest events happening through the length of time, infinite in their number, and that all have lent themselves to our continuation. 

that's our karmic recall. 

from stardust in its creation...and the way to now.

~

Peace, Eric 

More of A Listener

More of a listener: 

usually it's the first few words, and they always seem a gift to me, gently appearing and inspiring me to follow their lead towards whatever theme will come to mind. Writing is really the art of listening, requiring a high degree of patience and being able to simply wait in silence for words to make themselves known. I am really more of a listener than a writer, as the writing only happens after long moments of sitting quietly and allowing words to reach me.

they always do. 

it's similar to meditation, being more of a listener to the mantra's subtle vibration than I am active in the role of repetition. The mantra really repeats itself and I am carried by its sounds to the point of stillness, just listening now to the vibrations play through silence. It's no longer an act of meditation as it is a merging of sound and listener to a single instant of belonging to the moment's silent hold. Really, meditation is the art of disappearance, as the listener becomes nothing more than the silence that they hear beneath the play of every sound. 

and it's to this that the first few words have led to, appearing from silence with a message from their home, reminding me that I am more of a listener than I am anything at all, or more truly still, that I am the silence that is heard. Words never quite capture the essence of this theme, writing about the absolute embrace of silence with the temporary use of words. It's important that I remain more of a listener than consideration of an artist, that I only borrow words for the sake of description and not investing them with a particular meaning of my own. Words only exist in silence, even as they're written down, or spoken, they retain the essence of their silent home. These words are simply a brief expressions emerging from silence, tracks left within their own absolute nature, serving only to remind myself that I am nothing more than a listener here, being just as temporary as my every thought and written word. 

I am more of a listener, but really, more so...the silence that is heard.

~

Peace, Eric 

Enough

Enough: 

to only say that I'm aware, and this really seems enough to me, not having any other claim than the simplicity of knowing myself as such, no belief that I am anything more than what's found within each appearance of a moment. Perhaps even saying that I'm aware is too much, that there's a subtle implication here of someone existing who's apart from this awareness, a lasting entity that's witness to it all. And maybe there is, many enlightened people says it's so, but to me that's speculation outside the realm of experience, I only know this moment and even that's a present mystery. 

it's enough to simply be aware.

and truly it is, it's enough because this moment holds infinite mystery to me, always unfolding as something entirely new, spontaneously, and more so, intimately as my own involvement too. This is what I am because it's all that I can claim to know, just this moment, and if given my attention than a universe appears through me, not a grand claim at all, but happening right now as I pause in writing and feel the early morning rush to greet my senses. I'm aware of soft sounds emerging from a field of silence, faint light just now hinting of a presence, the scent of coffee and the warmth of a cup within my hands. To explore any aspect of this could take my further into mystery than I've ever been before.

an entire universe indeed. 

but it's enough to have this moment, no need to make it anything other than the loveliness of early morning and the warmth of coffee. To be aware is to be grateful, infinitely so, as life continues to offer itself completely to me, and I appreciate all I have right now, not what might be gained later, nor whatever might seem lost through the process of time, but right now, this breath of being alive and that everything aside from this is extra, a bonus given to me by grace and mystery. 

truly so, it's enough to be aware. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Deep Quiet

Deep quiet: 

even more drawn to silence now, earliest morning, well before the glimpse of first light, and meditation seems to happen on its own at this time, almost instantly pulling me to a deep quiet, restful, and yet fully awake to what this moment holds. It's my favorite time of day, pre-dawn, and just so full of magic, secrets only revealed in this hour, and only to those who sit to listen, quietly, deeply so, and the morning then begins to whisper. 

and what I hear is the deep quiet of the soul.

not my soul alone, not an individual one at all, but the world's soul, it's essence, life really, and I'm included here as an aspect of it's expression, soul displayed as a singular portion, but never truly separate from the whole. Just soul. One thing. 

sitting, listening, and what I hear is my own deep quiet acting as capacity for the world to awaken within me, the sounds of the morning happening through the nature of the soul, seamless, everything coming awake in such a subtle fashion, as if testing to see if the silence will hold. This is what I'm drawn to, knowing myself as this capacity, feeling the morning come alive as my own essential self, soul extending itself as my inclusion. 

one thing. 

it's my own deep quiet that I'm drawn to, reflected through earliest morning, just before the first glimpse of light is recognized as the soul awakening to itself, everything slowly, easily, moving towards this recognition. Meditation seems to occur on it's own now, listening to the world come alive from a long night's slumber, knowing myself as the capacity for this to happen.

sitting...as the soul awakens through me. 

my own deep quit acting as its dawn. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Fragrance

Fragrance: 

in yogic philosophy the term is vasana and it loosely translates to fragrance or garment, something that clings to the essence of a person. I like thinking of it as a fragrance, a particular odor of personality released through interactions with others, with life really, our deepest tendency of thought brought to surface and offered to the world. A vasana is a subtle pattern of thought and action that we display by habit, it's our past impressions rehearsed so often that they're now released as a fragrance to the present moment. They tell people who we are, or at least as our past behavior indicates. 

the analogy is often an orange, that when one is squeezed all that's ever released is juice and pulp, the very stuff that makes an orange unique from other fruits. We will only get orange juice from an orange, and every fruit is particular as to what it gives. The vasana of fruit is very simple. Ours is a bit more complicated, a lifetime of accumulated experiences, habits, energetic patterns that now shape our present behavior. Yogic seers might even say that vasanas can be traced through multiple lifetimes all the way to our reactions now. Regardless, they are deeply ingrained, almost beyond our notice in their display, and we simply call them our tendencies, how we respond to situations that life offers. 

we believe the fragrance of habit is who we are. 

except it's not.

a vasana is actually much deeper than mere habit, so deeply ingrained that it clings through lifetimes, an aura of our distinction, and we are recognized on a subtle level by this odor. But it's never who we really are, no impression is ever the essence of a subject, and what we truly are is complete essence, a spaciousness that forever remains the fragrance of infinite love. What we are is capacity for these tendencies to exist, they occur within and through us, yet our essence is always untouched. We are actually free from vasanas - we just don't realize it. 

and the key to realization is simply awareness, gentle observation of who we are and the tendencies that play through us. Change occurs by observation, not by willpower or concentration, but by recognizing the witness to every experience, an aware presence that remains no matter how a situation changes. Our essence holds no judgement, it's beyond the accumulation of habits and karma, only playing host to our present behavior. There is no memory here, not at the core of who we are, we are free from vasanas, untouched by karma, being the capacity for these very things to even be displayed. 

it's perhaps better said that we are not free from - but simply free.

our fragrance is always of love.

without condition. 

~

Peace, Eric 

A Little Note

A little note: 

karma is the motion of life, it's not a justice system, nothing is rewarded and no punishment is issued forth - really, we can't even truly say it's result producing as every effect is already shifting to the motion of infinite causes and no outcome is ever lasting. This is just a little note on karma, my own insight based on study, and more deeply so on my observation of the world. Nothing I write here is meant to be a treatise on the subject of karma, my words are only a lyrical expression of a subject come to mind. 

it's just my writing for the morning.

a little note on karma.

and it's a subject deeply misunderstood, mostly viewed as punishment and reward, a belief system of our own wishful thinking for justice to be served. But karma itself is much more subtle, it's not a scale that measures deeds and actions, nor is it a cosmic law that's somehow separate from our daily affairs and observes our lives through a lens of judgement. Karma literally means action, and again it's simply motion, life, and how it continuously plays as a universal function.

karma is what we are.

motion. 

life.

of course there appears to be cause and effect, actions always produce some sort of a response, and in the case of karma this seems to carry on as some sort of system, that our actions now will later shape the outcome of our lives. And this is true, at least a bit. The thing is, there are no lasting results, and that's the grace of karma, everything is in motion right now, continuously shifting, a constant grace of letting go of all that every came before. Karma can't truly be viewed through the lens of time because there's only what's happening right now, this moment alone, and yes, there appears to be direct lines tracing the past to any event that's present, but it's an illusion really, as all there is motion, untraceable, subtle, infinite by its very nature.

karma provides its own grace through motion. 

no result is real, or lasting.

and so we don't escape karma, it's senseless to even try. It's simply and only life, happening, and we are but a brief moment of its expression. The key to understanding karma - is grace. Each moment is an opportunity of creation, not for the future, as that will be cared for on it's own. our concern is for the karma of the present, right now, participating as the action of the moment. To be happy, be the cause that brings happiness to the present. Karma is a very complex issue, but this moment itself is very simple, innocent of concepts. 

it's grace. 

this is just my writing for the moment, a little note on karma, a lyrical expression offered only for the moment. 

~

Peace, Eric 

To teach: 

as I continue to teach meditation, I now find that my own practice deepens even further, opening to more subtle levels of stillness, a more profound silence than I ever knew before. It's a gift that teaching gives to me, serving the concerns of others and in return I get to experience meditation again with the innocence of a beginning and yet as well with years of accumulated practice calling me to stillness. It's a unique opportunity and one that I truly appreciate and consider it an honor of participation. 

this is what I would call my dharma. 

my purpose of the moment.

meditation is a commitment, a life path really, and not everyone is called to sit in quiet for a certain length of time. But some are, and for a few it becomes a beautiful expression of their own internal silence offered to the world, a meeting place for the entire cosmos to appear within the mind. It's also a useful tool, a simple and easy method to benefit our lives, providing deep rest, relaxed, becoming more responsive to the needs and concerns of others. As I continue to teach meditation all of these benefits become tools to further my craft of teaching - my practice becomes what I offer to those who wish to learn. 

it's a self-serving dharma.

to teach meditation is my purpose, at least for now, and I don't mean this as the sole reason for my existence. I believe that life is true dharma, being alive provides its own sense of purpose and doesn't need the additional meaning that I assign. But I truly love teaching and find that it does provide fulfillment, serving others, sharing this profound experience of silence that meditation provides. 

it's the dharma of this moment.  

to teach...is the means of its fulfillment. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Minor Key

Minor key: 

everything vibrates, indeed, there's nothing but motion in degrees of different frequencies, life itself is simply a vibrational quality of experience. It's amazing to consider, the whole universe vibrating, a cohesive resonance of infinite proportions, and that we are a unique aspect of this great song, a minor note perhaps, but still essential to its play. If this wasn't so, if we weren't truly essential in someway, than we wouldn't exist at all, no vibrational qualities to match our existence. 

no minor note.

what I know of music theory is little, actually less, and really, all I have to offer here is my appreciation, a love for music that reaches to my depth and causes me to truly hear. It's resonance, a response to a certain vibration arrangement that stirs my soul in someway that I can only equate to magic, notes that somehow create a smaller universe of song and the moment of my listening. So aside from this love of music, my actual knowledge of notes and scales is limited, less perhaps, but I do know that although there is a vibrational difference, it's all within a singular pattern of song, a realm of music, sounds, and the infinite possibilities of their expression.

 A minor note is simply another quality of a musical expression.

truly though, it's all vibration, not single notes separated by the absence of sound, but vibrations held to a coherence of a song, one that comes to us with particular meaning. And with this we have the entire universe, holding the potential for every sound, and having a sure and certain meaning because we belong to it, being a note, minor or otherwise, we are essential to its play. 

yes, my cosmology is completely wrong here, as is my musical theory I'm sure - but that's not really what I'm writing about, and the words themselves matter very little. It's resonance, vibrations, and of knowing we belong here, essential, and that's all we truly need to know. 

we belong.

there's no minor key...just the song of our existence.

playing on. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Sincerely Who I Am

Sincerely who I am: 

what I really hope for is sincerity, to be exactly and only as I am and know that this is what I offer to the world. At this point there is no continued search for enlightenment, nor even a wish to be free from any form of suffering, life has brought me here, and through sorrow and grief, and yes, countless moments of joy as well - I now find myself sincerely who I am...

and nothing more.

this is it's own form of freedom and one without pretense or need to influence others, no one else is involved in this, at least not in the sense of offering myself as any form of teacher. Sincerity isn't a practice, it's not something that's accomplished, it's simply an allowingness of whatever it is that appears within each moment, and not making distinctions between ego and selfless nature, between illusion and the harder edge of what seems to be reality. Everything belongs, sincerely so, and there is no reason to push any of it aside for a preference of show, for how I wish the world to see me.

sincerely, this is who I am. 

and I no longer wish to be any different, I'm not seeking a better version of who I am, it's not self-improvement, nor the end of any suffering. To give it a word, if  one is needed, would be to say relaxed, really that's all, and yet this includes so much too, because nothing is excluded, not fear, nor worry, I'm not free of anything at all, and it's with this that I find myself able to relax completely. 

this is sincerely who I am, and of course it's free to change at any moment, being responsive, sensitive to what others offer, and not a fixed position of pretense and ideas. Reality is too spontaneous for any of that, and whatever opinion held is just that, a thought, an appearance of my present point of view, and even now it might be changing. Sincerity is simply being open, a continuous letting go even as I embrace all that's present. It's paradox, as well as completely ordinary. 

it's sincerely who I am...

and everyone else is too. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Different Way

Different way: 

after my mother died, and my marriage slid closer to divorce, I found myself drawn to the local trails and long hours of running, simply being in motion as a natural means to express a deep grief that would stay still within me. I needed to run. Many friends and family remembers assumed that I was hiding from my grief, deny the present hurt by attempting to out run it, or to keep my mind and body occupied with another hurt altogether. In truth, I was just just mourning in motion, grieving by the miles and on the trail, healing through my love of nature. My body knew just what to do, and if I listen closely, it always seems so, even now as I grieve different way. 

it's not far from a year since my father died, and although my love of being immersed in nature is undiminished, my urge to run those endless miles is gone, I'm no longer drawn to grieve in such a way, my body has grown quieter now. Perhaps it's a matter of age, or losing the last loved one that truly loved me deeply, but my body is holding this grief longer and seemingly to the depth of bones, maybe even further, and intuitively I know that motion isn't the means to heal this grief. Not this time, and at least not in the same way as before. I walk more slowly through nature now, eager to site birds, deer, and the occasional magic of a fox appearing in a brief and stealthy show of grace. My walks aren't long, they're nearby, as I am blessed to have paths right outside my door. It's a different way to grieve than before, exactly what is needed, my body tells me to be easy with this motion, not to rush my length of mourning. 

and so I listen...grieving in a different way.

mostly though, I'm drawn to stillness, silence, earliest morning, and just barely so as night still seems to have a longer hold if time. I think I'm called to this period of transition, sitting quietly as night lingers to the very edge of morning, everything happening so slowly, an experience that really is beyond my measure, not even occurring within my sense of time. 

there are infinite ways to grieve, and the body knows each way, urging a path of resolution to what appears gone and a love that always remains. We all come to our own dawn, different ways, but light always finds us, reaching even now. Listen to the body, being the fabric of memories, holding to the very last touch we received from those parting, we are urged towards grief not as a means of letting go, but of accepting light as it reaches to another dawn. There is no letting go...only what is right now, this moment alone and the magic that it holds. 

this is where we heal.

here, right now. 

grieving in whatever way we know. 

~

Love, Eric 

My Writing

My writing: 

I'm not a non-duality teacher, my writing isn't based upon any set philosophy, and I don't offer anything that should ever be declared as an absolute truth. However, I do hope that what I write reflects an honest moment, something that's real to me, authentic, and yet also free to shift in its reflection, showing itself as possibilities to later be explored. My goal isn't to instruct, but to demonstrate my own sense of values here, to simply write whatever words are given to me each morning, playing with their order and arrangement, inspired, belonging fully to the moment of creation. 

that's it, nothing more...

and what I write is't to be judged by any standard but my own.

it's just words given to a page. 

my writing comes from a deep and long coming realization, that the important issue of the day is to simply be myself, honest, and without pretense, no forethought given as to how I should appear to others. I love Ramana Maharshi's oft quoted line that there are no others, and it's with this freedom that I offer myself as your reflection and that you are mine as well. What we are is really just a conversation, not between two people, but of one self in various guise, communicating the information of the world, infinite aspects reporting to the whole. 

my writing is only information gathered, offered as such, no meant to be taken as anything more than a momentary reflection of the morning. I find myself mentioning this often, a reminder, and perhaps not so much for the sake of others, but to keep myself honest in what I offer, not writing of bias and opinion, only what comes through inspiration, from our conversation of the world. My writing informs the page, and through extension who happens to read my words, it's information, fictional in a sense, of who I am this morning, for just the moment of this writing. 

that self is already gone.

another conversation started. 

and perhaps I'll write of this tomorrow.

my writing....

just words given to a page.

nothing more. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Apt Self-Description

Apt self -description: 

and now I've come to prefer the term capacity as an apt self-description, that what I am can't possibly be negated by exclusion alone, although that's a technique that brings to me to the point emptiness. Yet that still seems to be just the beginning of noting my existence. Yes, I am emptiness, serving as capacity, and with this realization I find that I am very full, indeed, nothing truly can be excluded from my reality now. 

everything belongs here. 

this is the headless way, first detailed by the British philosopher/mystic Douglas Harding when he discovered the absence of his own head, that try as he might he was simply incapable of viewing his most noted features. Being curious he didn't stop there, refusing to dismiss this as just the limits of his vision, Douglas gave this absence his full attention and discovered that where he once believed his head was located - resided the entire universe. Douglas Harding came upon his emptiness and then explored the contents found there, seeing himself as capacity for everything that life presented, he was a seamless hold of infinite proportions, he was emptiness as well as it's fulfillment. 

emptiness/form.

an apt self-description. 

it's easy for us to point towards our own absence, to find ourselves headless too. Douglas and many of his students devised experiments to help us note this fascinating feature of reality. Most simple of all - is to point first towards an object, anything really, and then to note its distinctions, details that seems to make it truly an object, specific qualities that separate it from the rest of its environment. After this we continue pointing, yet now our finger is turned towards the holder of the view, pointing from object to the source which observes it. This experiment is best done with curiosity and innocence, without any preconceived notion of what's to be found. Just look. That's it, everything is revealed right here, emptiness, form, the secret of capacity - we arrive at our own apt self-description. 

whatever it is we find. 

here's what I see, or rather, as well, what I fail to see - there is no physical observer found, headless, without view of any feature that should be familiar to me after a lifetime of assumption, nothing. There is an emptiness here that is serving as a function of awareness, my own selfless nature is found, and yet it also holds a tenderness for the appearance of my self-belief, for the person I long believed myself to be. Everything is free to appear, not limited to just physical distinctions, for my every thought and emotion belongs here too, if only for the instant of their appearance.

of course this is just my view, an apt self-description made from my own inquiry and observation - what I find is of no consequence to anyone else, we are all entitled to our own description. Really, it can't truly be described and I only offer words for the benefit of my taste for lyrics, my love of writing about the continuous results of this inquiry. I see myself as capacity and all the world shows itself within me, endless observations for me to write of, being an infinite source of inspiration. 

it's an apt self-description. 

but just my own.

~

Peace, Eric 

Things of Beauty

Things of beauty: 

it's the things of beauty, aspects of it - although most often seen as the reverse of this, that objects exist separate from their appreciation, as if anything could ever possibly be found apart from the core of it's true being. It all belongs as beauty, everything, seen through their guise of individual objects and now no longer believed to be separate from their source. 

there's only beauty in the world. 

this is a large claim, as there is much that seems ugly to us, destructive, without a trace of beauty to be found. I'm not going to argue otherwise. We truly do see ugliness and hatred and there is no sense for me to deny their appearance. Yet increasingly I see the world as seamless, implicit as a flow of single order, and with this beauty is found as a creative process, always fluid, constantly in a state of becoming something other in appearance. To find something ugly is an illusion of the mind, only partially seen and divided even further by the judgments that are made. 

there are only things of beauty, appearing in the guise of being other.

our view is to often incomplete, segmented, and we miss this seamless order, that anything in appearance is still in the process of it's expression, becoming, and the objective isn't to one day be complete, but to always be in motion, shifting artwork, life in constant show of its every capability.

showing things of beauty.

always.

~

Peace, Eric 

Four Things

Four things: 

during meditation, and more specifically a mantra session, we can expect four things to occur, and if any one of these are happening then we are in the midst of a successful meditation. There's no particular order here, it's not a sequence of events, and really these are only experiences to be noted as aspects of our practice, things that occur naturally during our time of practice. Our meditation is centered on the mantra, it's not a focused practice, it isn't based on effort or concentration but an an easy repetition and remembering of the mantra, gentle, forgiving of any moment that we stray towards our thoughts. 

and thoughts will happen. 

often.

our role is to return to the mantra, easily, making it a joy to return its repetition. The mantra too is a thought, yet one without meaning other than its vibration, a frequency that lends itself to our relaxation and belonging. There is no pace to follow, no rhythm to be concerned for, it's not chanting, it's just a thought and we choose with preference and delight. 

that's our practice.

simple.

easy.

if we're thinking our mantra, giving it our preference over other thoughts, returning to it as often as remembered, then we're successfully meditation. Four things can happen here, and the first two are thoughts, we're either thinking the mantra or giving our attention to mundane thoughts. Both will happen with regular occurrence and as long as we are gentle with our return to the mantra, than our meditation is unfolding perfectly, everything is going fine. Thoughts happen, our mind wanders, and we gently, easily, return to thinking the mantra. That's the nature of our practice. 

or...

we might fall asleep. 

that happens too, of the four things perhaps less likely so, maybe not very often, but on occasion it will, at least if one is very sleepy. Meditation is relaxing, and if daily stress has disturbed our sleep then it will lend itself for deep relaxation and this may result in falling asleep. It's a natural response. When we wake up, no matter the length of time, we return to the mantra, again, easily, gently, no judgement offered to a sleepy mind. Here's the pattern, something happens during our meditation, we're caught in loop of constant thought, perhaps following a stray thought to the realm of our imagination, or we find ourselves too sleepy to maintain our focus, falling asleep for a moment of our practice - noticing this, any of aspect or variations of these three things, and we return to the mantra. No fuss is made, no judgement of success ir failure, just the mantra, again, returning, always our return. 

that's our practice.

four things can happen while we're sitting, with thoughts and mantra being more of a promise and sleeping a rarity of a very tired mind. With this we come to the final one, and it's a promise as well, a natural occurrence, yet magical, and one beyond our personal control. In mantra practice it's called the Gap, an ever present silence found between our every thought, primordial, infinite in its creative potentiality. The Gap is really who we are, presence, remaining unmarred from whatever thought it holds, pure mind, allowing by it's very nature. We fall into the Gap naturally, without effort and without it even being sought. It happens on its own. Always. But sometimes we don't notice, there's no reference point here, being pure awareness there's nothing for it's compare, and it's only after our return to thought or mantra that we realize something magical has happened. We slipped into the Gap, beyond the realm of realization, we were simply presence, beingness, relaxed as our original mind. The Gap is remembered as our return home, and we are naturally drawn there by thinking the mantra, led by it's vibration, settling here without effort or even notice. 

it happens on it's own. 

of these four things mentioned only the mantra is purposely chosen, consciously courted and given our preference. Everything else is a byproduct of our sitting, happening beyond our control, and really without any care. We don't fight what happens naturally, our practice is one of simply allowing, and to give ourselves to the mantra frequently, often. If any of these four things are happening, we are meditating, successfully, easily and there's nothing here for our concern.

that's the joy of sitting, it's how we practice. 

we think the mantra.

nothing more is needed. 

everything else happens on its own. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Breaking Open

Breaking open: 

each moment breaks from its own fullness, tenderness, a wish to hold all that appears within it, and yet only holding so much before succumbing to motion, shifting to a new expression and breaking once more. Life is made of these breaking moments, never again instances of such unique and precious beauty, continuously being offered to our notice. More important still is that this too is  truly what we are, being a seamless parade of a moment breaking open, tenderness displayed, and shown to be a lifetime. 

and really this is seamless to the point beyond counting, not actually moments at all, just life flowing through our perception, interpreted by the senses as events happening through time. We are immersed in this, life, it's what we are, and we break open from the tenderness of this expression, being so full of our own beauty that we must continue on and show ourselves as the further beauty of the world.

we are a moment...continuously breaking open.

to be mindful of this, for even an instant, and we touch upon eternity, now knowing ourselves as more truly the motion of the world. Each moment is breaking open from its own beauty, continuously so, and we are privileged by a lifetime in which to notice our own participation here, baring witness to the tenderness of our every expression, given no choice but to break ourselves open and share this beauty as the world. 

it's what we are..

the tenderness of a moment,

so full of beauty,

continuously breaking open. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Promise of Fulfillment

it started as a discipline, a means of achieving the end result of a better life. I began to meditate for the clear benefits that the practice seemed to offer me, a promise of fulfillment that I had read about in countless books and articles on the subject. I've practiced now for almost three decades, and almost every promise of health and emotional well-being has been fulfilled to a certain extent, perhaps in some subtle ways that often escape my daily notice. But here's what I notice, looking back through my years of practice, somewhere along the way meditation ceased to really be a practice, or at least not in any disciplined kind of way. I still call it a practice, as the act itself is more of an art-form, a practice of mantra weaved through an extended period of silence, an approach of stillness settling thoughts and relaxing any tension of my body. It's a practice that happens on it's own now, no longer calling me to action, no real discipline involved - meditation is simply what I'm called to do. 

happily so.

the practice of meditation is an answer to its own promise of fulfillment, it's a paradox in a way, that the action itself is its own achievement, any results are really only the side benefits of sitting for its own sake. I no longer have expectations of practice, I'm not seeking enlightenment nor results of any higher states of consciousness. Whatever happens from my practice is a happy effect of my love for simply sitting still and the soft repetition of the mantra fading to a perfect silence. Anything that comes from this practice is an extra grace, one I'm grateful to receive, but no longer a reason for my sitting. 

somewhere through the years my practiced changed, no longer a discipline, but an eager opportunity to sit in silence, allowing the early morning to emerge through my senses, and again later in the day to feel the world begin to settle down, as if both dawn and dusk occur within me. That's the promise of fulfillment, just allowing the world to be without my interference, that I offer a response from a deep reserve of stillness and not a reaction based upon my every state of mind. I'm happy to sit for the sake of being relaxed in my own presence...and it seems to the world responds in kind. That's enough for me, more so really - it's my promise of fulfillment.  

~

Peace, Eric 

With The Quietness of The Breath

With the quietness of the breath: 

sitting with the quietness of the breath, grown so subtle now as to barely feel it's passing, my mantra just a pure vibration echoing all the way through me to the edge of what seems an infinite field of silence - and then...nothing, absolute and aware.

it's been said by Vedic seers that to place an intention at this point of meditation is to be assured of its instant manifestation, a seed planted within the moment's pure potentiality and then immediately baring fruit. It's a skillful means that's beyond me though, even past my consideration, as it's enough to just reach this place of silence, sitting with the quietness of the breath, content to simply let the world happen as it will, without intentions nor concern for my own affairs. 

this could be seen as true spontaneous fulfillment, with nothing more needed than what the moment itself provides. It's a rare occurrence of course, at least for me and at this point of my meditation. Yet it happens, and perhaps not so rare but more often overlooked for the favor of a returning thought that causes my distraction. The infinite field of silence is always present, serving as capacity for every present thought, allowing breath and sound the freedom of their passage. 

meditation is really just the realization that we serve as this capacity and that in certain moments, such as sitting with the quietness of the breath, or listening as the mantra plays softly through the mind until we reach this ever present field of silence - yes, in these certain moments we realize that our every need is met right now, instantly manifested as air supplied for breath, heart beating in a rhythm of fulfillment, life spontaneously and easily occurring without our interference.

sitting with the quietness of the breath, serving the world as this capacity...

and I am instantly fulfilled. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Smaller Dharma

Smaller dharma: 

dharma has become an important consideration for me lately, giving thought to my larger purpose, a self-inquiry of meaning and the theme of my existence through the mid point of my life. There are some who are so gifted with a specific talent that's there's no question as to their  life's direction, others with a passionate drive that seems to clear the way for whatever path they choose to follow. I have always been more of a wanderer, having a smaller dharma as it so appears, my passions being simple by their nature, varied, and never felt to be my true calling. My wish was not to have a great single talent to display, but to just know my purpose here, to have a real reason for my existence, perhaps some meaning for what was long felt to be an aimless life. 

my life at mid-point now, and my dharma is still not clear, at least not in any sense that lends itself to a clear review of purpose. My accomplishments are quite easy to measure, some being physical and achieved through hard word and effort, others being creative in their expression. But nothing I've done has any theme of great meaning, no depth to their purpose, indeed they're all just smaller dharma, really nothing more than flash points of achievement through all my years of living. 

and yet, 

there's something important here to consider, yes, this is a smaller dharma - and one with such care and tenderness given to all I've ever held dear, these smaller things, that each well written book I've read was loved and cherished deeply, my life's been devoted to poetry and a clear expression of beauty and love of nature. I was available to care for both my parents during their hard declining years, providing a service of deep commitment to their well-being and dignity through long illness and being near and present in their final hours. I have a love of stillness and silence, meditation as a sincere lifetime practice and I offer this to others, teaching, writing, an enthusiasm without bounds.  Each morning I awake so early, well before dawn to meditate and then greet the day with words written with a quiet joy and passion, never once diminished throughout the years. It's a smaller dharma indeed, no great measure here, no overriding theme of purpose and measure. 

just life...

and the presence that I offer. 

~

Love, Eric 

Essence of Yoga

Essence of yoga:

it's been said that the essence of yoga is found within a single asana, one pose held with steadiness and poise, a dedication to the mastery of stillness within the midst of motion. I love that thought, although I certainly don't have the mindset to pursue that intent, my love of yoga is far ranging in posture and philosophy and I enjoy the full experience. Yet the notion does intrigue me and it has helped me pare my practice down to what I consider essential poses as to what they offer, being of value to mind and body, the very essence of yoga. 

with this in mind it seems that the world opens to me with a new sense of opportunity, to continue to strip my writing down to a bare expression that still contains the merit of a thousand words more. Small beauty is the thought I keep in mind, crafting just one line that carries the weight of the entire point of what I'm writing, similar to one asana holding the essence of yoga in its display. The posture itself is simply the means for a greater realization of who we truly are, with yoga being the union of worlds, physical matched with spirit, emotions grounded to the body. Writing is yoga, and with a single line an author can reach this same realization, union on the page, written through a sense of poise, balance, the small beauty of just a few words offered as the very essence of poetry.

one line only...

the asana of our full expression.

that's the essence of yoga, and truly writing is yoga, everything is - it's all an opportunity to tie our worlds together by a single posture, a well crafted line composed for the sake of some small beauty we've been captivated by, knowing that this one expression contains the entire essence of the world. With this than my practice is yoga, through everything I do, it's all offered as a gift to something far larger than the moment of my single focus. Small beauty. Yet through this, a single asana, just one line written, being the essence of yoga...I touch the beauty of the world. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Point of Notice

Point of notice: 

with everything cared for, each detail of realty happening on it's own and without any effort needed to sustain it - the mantra easily leads me here, this point of notice where life occurs throughout every particle of my existence, that I'm completely engaged as both stillness and motion, observer and observed, aware, and simply nothing more then ever feature of the world. 

and all I do is sit here with the soft repetition of the mantra playing through me, listening further and deeper to it's vibration, until this subtle notice is reached and then everything is at once let go of, surrendered to the ease of my existence. I am life, only and completely. 

this is where air meets my lips and becomes the breath, where particles form the very the structure of my existence, and atoms join as molecules, cells, creating the fabric of skin and the support of bones, every body part is gifted from this point of notice. Everything happens here, it's the moment of the Big Bang, the singularity and impulse of its expansion, timeless, infinite, and yet the birthplace of time and measure. 

it's the point of my notice, always being here, and only now brought to the point of notice. The mantra brings me here through my listening, seemingly deep within the mind, past the hold of thoughts and any meaning, as if my own private world is now given the privilege of a view. But this isn't quite so, as more subtle still, seamless, this isn't my world at all, there's only life occurring here, and I am simply an aspect of its awareness, just a point within this infinite point of notice. 

an endless loop of pure existence.

~

Peace, Eric 

As Our Salvation

As our salvation:

karma is explained and literally translated as action, simplified as cause and effect, and commonly thought of as the golden rule, believing that we will reap what we have sown. Our past deeds have brought us here, living the consequence of our actions, and how we act now will define us in the future. Perhaps this is so, as it seems perfectly linear in its view of cosmic justice, that we can't evade our past behavior, and that we are responsible for our own conviction as well as our salvation. It's certainly backed by long assumption to be true, thousands of years and across many cultural traditions, the role of karma is central to the lives of many, even those who've been raised without it being a common theme in their religion. It's now deeply part of our belief system. 

of course that doesn't make it true.

that isn't an argument against causality, it's not a debate at all really, and I have no stake in offering a counter view to the role of karma. I'm not a philosopher, and certainly not a Sanskrit scholar. Although deeply read on many Eastern traditions, I know little more than anyone else does on this matter. But I do have my own insight here, provided by deep meditation and hours of self-inquiry, there's my own intuition and thoughts on the role of karma, grace, as well as our salvation. 

and it all seems more subtle than I once believed.

so here it is, my own insight, easily dismissed as it's only a momentary expressions given in consideration to these matters. This is less of a belief than it is art, creative writing, temporary in its offer. Karma is motion and it's only translation is life. It's continuous, constantly shifting to it's own dynamics, and there's no lasting effect in it's ever changing flow. This who we are, karmic by nature, motion, and we are served by grace and mystery. Each moment is free from the past as well as being a current display of all that's ever been before, it's seamless in the best of our descriptions, and the only truth that can definitely be stated is that life is simply mystery, unknowable by any definite, but something that we deeply live. Each moment is who we are, and karma is not the cause nor the effects of this, only the action of our display, everything being a show of some greater work of art, and we are at once artist, the brushstroke, and canvas to it's touch. All things. Everything. 

as well as our salvation.

for we are free of any karmic hold, being always motion, life,and never once exactly the same in any single moment. Our salvation is grace, and we are already free of every past restraint, self-creating another world to show. Continuously so. Karma isn't punishment nor reward, and in truth it isn't really our salvation...

it's simply who we are.

~

Peace, Eric 

No Rules to Follow Here

No rules to follow here: 

what I've realized is that I don't always need to be inspired towards a theme, nor a particular idea of which to write of, there doesn't have to be any great meaning to my words. Neither is it from a sense of obligation to the page, practicing my chosen art form, not any reason at all really. Writing is simply a means of expression, and there are no rules to follow here, I am free to write whatever the moment holds for me, and if there is no grand inspiration to follow then it's enough for me to write whatever words happen to appear, giving verse to how I feel, or even just my fingers to the keyboard and allowing whatever thought is present to fall directly to the page. 

there are no rules to follow here. 

of course I love those moments of great inspiration, when every words is so freely given and expresses a sure and certain meaning. There's magic there, truly, as those inspired moments are simply beyond my skill and talent, arriving completely on their own, gifted to me, and I am grateful that they seem to be so often and easily given. Yet there's also many moments of a more quiet inspiration, more of a wish to put words on the page without any reason other than to see if any beauty will appear. Those moments too are cherished, although it took sometime for me to come to this sense of freedom, letting go of my demands to always be inspired towards some grand theme, and to just allow myself to write for the sake pf something smaller, nonsense really, an expression of whatever the moment holds for me. I had to learn to break my own self-imposed rules and write easily from the heart in any given moment. 

like this one, right now,

and with no rules to follow here...

this is what I offer. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Necessarily So

Necessarily so: 

that I have faith, and necessarily so, as it's cause for my surrender as well as the means of an awakening to another way of seeing the world. My faith is given to the mantra, a sound, vibrating all the way to the depth of cells and carrying me to the point of my original stillness. My faith is just a thought repeated, saying the mantra to myself, silently, a faint idea playing through my mind and at first mixed with the infinite other thoughts that always seem present. But I keep returning to the mantra, not focused, loose, an easy repetition of words that have no meaning other than the role of their vibration. There is silence here, that's my faith, the mantra simply revealing my underlying state of mind, allowing me to notice a gap between one thought and another, however slight at first, yet eventually it's here that I surrender. 

that I have faith, and necessarily so, as it's cause for my returning home. 

faith is of a different quality than belief, lighter in it's hold, and having no concern to whatever's past this present moment. My faith is here, now, and not given to anything that isn't able to be noticed. I claim no faith beyond this moment, my salvation is at hand and belongs only to my surrender, letting go of everything that isn't absolutely sure and true right now. With this I have the utterance of my mantra, ethereal, and yet always available to my notice, until it too vanishes to the faith of my surrender. Only silence then remains, primordial, seamless to every sound and thought that arises. 

my faith is here, and necessarily so. 

nothing else is present. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Once I started Listening

Once I started listening: 

once I started listening to the morning, deeply so and in hours long before the show of dawn, there was never a wish to have it filled with sounds that didn't seem to belong here, sounds not fitting of the hushed tones that these moments offered. There is a tenderness to these hours, soft awakenings, nothing yet rushed to know the coming day. That will happen soon enough, but right now is a time of listening, catching silence in its pure allowing mode, how each sound is eased towards my hearing, seamlessly so, as if a secret whispered for my ears alone. 

once I started listening to the morning, to the silence existing just before the edge of any sound, I heard the world slowly stir itself awake, tentatively, emerging from a softer mode of its expression to one more suited to the light. This is a magical time, nothing ever seems sudden, a slow but instant manifestation of dawn, and that its every shifting shade offers a slightly different tone,  each with a vibrational quality of its own, it's own secret sound to share to those that care to listen. 

so I guard these precious hours, being holy to me now, waking earlier and earlier still to catch every quality of their expression. I meditate to ready myself for further listening, deeper, offering my own silent mind to match what the morning offers to me, sharing an allowing nature for whatever wishes to emerge. Once I stated listening to the morning everything about the world changed, I grew accustom to subtle shifts of sound, almost anticipating the exact moment that silence parts seamless to a thought, ideas form and then commit themselves to words. This is where I write from, an infinite field of silence touched by those subtle seeds of inspiration, ideas then gently nurtured to the page. 

my morning slowly stirred alive, awake...

once I started listening.

~

Peace, Eric 

No Clear Agenda

No clear agenda: 

with no clear agenda other than words to page, no urgency of message, nothing greatly inspired and yet there's still a wish to listen, to see what words may appear to me in this most quiet point of early morning. There's no question of writing, it's a promise sure to happen, and I am committed to this time, willing to wait without judgement for any words that grace my presence. 

it's enough to simply be here.

that's important to me, my commitment to show up for words, listening to the subtle qualities of silence offered through my wait, content, and whatever words do show will be exactly what I need to hear this morning, filling the space of page as well my wish for writing. It works out perfectly this way, each morning without fail and the only requirement is to release myself from the demand for words, to have no clear agenda other than to be here, and happily so. Worlds will always find me, they know I'm here, present, appreciative for their arrival, and with no concern for whatever message that they hold. It's always enough to simply be here, writing when words appear, listening to the quietness offered by their absence, no real preference between the two. 

sometimes though there is a great rush of words, inspiration so quickly given and then swept against the page with an urgency to fulfill. Some mornings are like that. But most aren't, many more are softly quiet and reflective, with only a few words made through silence, and those being gratefully collected, arranged with deep care and tenderness on the page. It's all an act of love, my devotion shown through waiting, listening, with no clear agenda other than my presence here. 

it's enough to simply be...

everything else is optional, a favor of appearance, and I am grateful for it all.

~

Peace, Eric 

We Say Paradox

We say paradox: 

we say paradox, meaning we believe that somethings exist in contradiction to another, and yet the truth is always mystery, a cooperation of the whole that we don't fully see nor understand. We find ourselves uncomfortable with this situation, wishing to come to certain terms and bridge a sense of understanding between the two, living less with mystery, holding a more mundane view of the world. But we can't escape mystery, paradox, and to live deeply, expressing ourselves in a sure commitment to all that life offers - we must accept that what we label paradox is simply the seamless nature of the world, one thing in a vast display of possibilities. 

there are no true opposites, nothing in opposition to another.

just life.

and in accepting mystery, dismissing paradox as simply another view beyond our present understanding, we come to know the heartbreak of what appears to be lost to us now, we embrace our deep fears of non-existence, and come to see sorrow as a true appreciation for what was once so intimately ours to hold. This is the end of a certain kind of suffering, the angst of contradictions now coming to a close. Everything's accepted. 

everything belongs. 

as life holds every possibility, nothing can truly be believed to be in contradiction to another, not really, as again we see the seamless nature of the world, that what appears to be an opposite is just another expression that life displays in wonder. We say paradox as simply a means of description, giving a name for a current mystery that life now shows, knowing full well that it's really just another possibility, a new moment offering the joy of its expression. 

life.

we say paradox,

and all there is...is mystery. 

~

Peace, Eric 

One True Line

One true line: 

within everything I write there is an essence, a one true line or phrase of inspiration waiting to be revealed through the craft of writing. Perhaps this is so for every artwork, a singular brushstroke that ties an entire painting to a complete show of beauty, a perfectly cast piece of clay lasting only for a moment and now the entire work revolves around that instant - intuitively an artist knows when this happens, feels to deep to bones and further still as the soul responds with joy. What an artist doesn't know is when this magic might happened, what line might reveal itself as pure and true, gifted from the muse. 

it seems the secret is not to pursue those moments, they must be allowed to find an artist unprepared for their arrival, shocked that such a thing of grace and insight truly exist, and now an entire structure of their medium is rearranged to support this inspiration. Writing is always a surprise for me, seldom do I have a finished planned and most often even the next line is a mystery shown only as I'm writing. My wish is to remain open to the exact point of change that mystery takes me, holding on to nothing that was written before and simply give myself to the present word alone. There is one true line to be revealed and I will know it just as it is being written, not the slimmest moment before, but only as it pours from my fingers to the keyboard, shown to my delight and surprise. 

everything else is written to support this. 

and now those supporting words take on a great importance, to clarify the essence of that one true line, not to highlight but to support in subtle ways, blending, lending themselves towards conclusion. I've often wondered what great works were based upon a phrase that held the entire meaning of a book, poem, or play. Perhaps Leonardo da Vinci painting the entire Mona Lisa around the framework of her smile, or Shakespeare held one true line from Hamlet as a vision for its completion. That's the mystery, and of course we're not meant to know the answer - our role is to wait for our own one true line to be revealed, gifted to us from the muse, and then to create an entire work, a life really, based upon this inspiration.  

one true line is all that's needed. 

~

Peace, Eric