That I'm Aware

That I'm aware: 

there's no need to make this more than what's found right now, that I'm aware...no, not quiet so, certainly there's presence, and thoughts appearing that I claim to be my own, but it's all far too seamless to make distinctions of a self separate from the experience of this moment - there's just...aware, nothing more, and somehow I'm included here, part of an early morning event of thoughts, sounds, sensations, and there's writing taking place, everything unfolding at once. I can't truly say that I'm aware, I'm far too deep in this belonging, an aspect of the morning too it seems. 

simply part of it's unfolding. 

but there's no reason to make claims of this being anything more than it is, and what it is I can't really say aside from the description above. It's not a state to be achieved, not mindfulness of any certain, special moment. It's simply morning, changing even now, a bit more sound, activity outside my window informs that these quiet hours are drawing to a close. This is all just one event, a flow of things seamless in array, and somehow too, there's awareness of my participation.

nothing special, really.

it's simply how things are. 

the temptation is to take this farther, to make claims that I'm the one aware, being a special aspect within this flow of events, in charge of how things unfold. I don't find any of this to be so, and don't know anything for certain aside from the present moment of my participation. I only know that I belong, right now, for this moment alone, an experience of experience, intimate beyond compare.And even this is just a thought appearing in this great belonging. 

it's not that I belong, 

but that all there is, everything, is of one belonging.

and this is enough for me, not to make claims of any great understanding beyond the simplicity of my own momentary wonder. I'm alive right now and the morning is waking with a growing inclusion of sounds, birds gathering with an early song, occasional cars heard in their distant commute. First light comes to my window, tentative, but reaching. 

all there is, is this awakening.

and everything belongs.

~

Peace, Eric