Arrive

Arrive: 

to let each word arrive, that's the approach I take with writing, and honestly it's the only way anything is ever accomplished even if not realized. As an author I am more of a participant of a process than actual entity, a component of infinite sources gathered for a moment at my desk. I have no real say in how this all arrives, any of it, or even why the urge to write strikes me so early in the morning. Everything finds me in it's own way and time, and I am no longer bound to the illusion of an author in sole control of what will be written. It's all a mystery, each word, thought, and urge. 

this too is how the world arrives.

it's the realization of how little say there is to any condition, although there's great belief in personal control of certain situations, believing that we wield influence on events vastly beyond our point of understanding. Yet mostly, on a deeper level, we know this isn't really so. There's no true choice on the most fundamental matters of life, only our response, and even this is based again on infinite sources beyond our capabilities to know. 

we simply live as mystery.

and this isn't as fearful as I once believed, it's now a matter of faith that everything arrives completely on it's own and that my only role is one of preparation and patience. I know that words will appear and I find myself at my desk each morning, coffee at hand, waiting, eager for their surprise. I am prepared for their arrival and it happens without fail. I have no idea how any of this happens, but I'm certain that I'm not the sole cause of their appearance, inspiration being so much more than any power I control. 

really, it's a great relief, to now simply play my part of author and allow ideas to find me, having faith in the entire mystery and process that oversees every aspect of the world. I prepare for words, trusting in their appearance, listening to the urge that guides me to desk and keyboards. I'm simply part of this great mystery, inspired by reason of my existence, with nothing more needed than to know I am alive. Writing happens.

words arrive.

it's a pretty easy process. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Distinctions

Distinctions: 

at some point there no longer seems to be the need to make distinctions, certain ones at least, what was once labeled as spiritual issues are laid aside for the sake of simply being alive, engaged with life on every level, and matters called on to debate no longer hold an interest. Yes, I meditate, and I have what might be called a spiritual practice, one of inquiry and art, creative and full of curiosity and wonder. My bookshelves are full of classic titles of spirituality and I still enjoy them all along with new discoveries. 

but there's nothing to gain from this, no destination of enlightenment.

I have arrived.

sort of. 

what I've really discovered is that beginning and endpoint are in truth the same exact location, and that only a distinction of apparent measurement implies a destination. I will never be enlightened, not in the sense that I will gain a greater consciousness than what's existing now, or find myself gifted with a keener state of awareness that wasn't mine before. To make distinctions between presence and absence is to miss the motion of the world. 

nothing is ever truly missing.

just distinctions made.

this is why debate is futile, again at least on these matters, arguing on the existence of a self is only the appearance of a self debating to an empty hall. There's no issue here to prove, no absolute truth to reach, and no point to really make. Whatever appears is real, but only in a sense, and doesn't need defending, nor proof of its existence. And of course every appearance too comes as an illusion, that its reality hinges on infinite points of conditions being in a certain and specific way, and any shift of view will shine light on the insubstantial reality of any matter. 

it's all just distinctions made.

everything.  

with no point to ever argue. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Just Being

Just being: 

my very life as faith and surrender, natural, and with a certain ease that all is cared for - not a willful act at all, my body functions with a grace beyond my present notice, heart in rhythm, blood easy in its reach and flow, and every breath released without concern of letting go. Everything happens completely on it's own and their is no demand for my attention. This is the art of just being alive, no effort given to the function of either mind or body, simply being, and having faith in my surrender. 

and into this I add a mantra, not so much a word as it is a vibration, a faint idea and frequency that's released as easily as breath and I am equally unconcerned with its return. This isn't an act of concentration, no forceful recall, nor mindful of any action. It's listening, allowing my world to settle on it's own, and again having faith in my surrender. 

it's the easiness of meditation. 

with this there's no concern of thought, no chase to find an empty mind, every thought allowed to appear and wander by, gently, a return to mantra, and then another letting go, easy, natural, and yet profound in the simplicity of its action. The mind settles down without my interference, heart rate slows, and the breath becomes barely noticed in soft and subtle motion of its passing. 

just being.

easy.

natural.

there's faith in this surrender, not in any sense of a personal achievement, nor even of my continuation, but faith in essence, that even when I'm completely surrendered there's something of me that exist within the very fabric of the world. It's similar to breath, existing first and always as air, available to be drawn, near, and certain of location. The breath is air, life, and there's no search to find it, once let go there's no frantic grasp for its return. It's the same with meditation, mantra given the same ease as breath and heartbeat, having faith in its surrender. 

everything let go.

thoughts,

mantra,

breath,

and now...with only faith in my surrender. 

just being.

~

Peace, Eric 

Heart Sutra of A Writing Life

any pressure is always self directed, that if I ever have a demand for words and only find their absence, than it's my own issue of complaint, and not one of inspiration. There are infinite things to write of and an endless flow of words. There's also silence - and it's essential to the writing process. Really, it's essential to all of life, silence is the holy underlie of order, the foundation for words to flourish. Here, I'll use silence and emptiness in synonymous fashion, offering both in the same manner as an allowing space for words and form to come to notice, the Heart Sutra of a writing life...

silence is no less than words.

words are silence in disguise.

emptiness,

form.

it's all the same. 

the issue is my interpretation of silence, my failure to truly listen to what it offers in reply to my demand for words. Silence urges me to pause, to give consideration to something other than the voice of ego, and write with a greater sense of purity, to write more from inspiration than demand. To write like this means to honor silence as often as it comes to my attention, a sacred pause to honor and not move forward with words until they appear without apparent cause. 

inspired.

words appear from silence.

form,

emptiness. 

it's the Heart Sutra of a writing life. 

and it's all the same.

there's absolutely no pressure here, words find themselves to the page through me, I am not their cause and inspiration doesn't happen by demand. It just happens. With this, writing is always a joyful process, every word comes to me as a mystery, a complete story of it's own and I only have to find its order on the page, an arrangement of what's been given. My role is to listen to the pause between words, to not block silence from allowing words to appear in their own particular order, and only once given do I arrange them on the page. Through the Heart Sutra I see that words are not separate from silence, it's not their absence, but more truly so the place of their appearance, a seamless event of inspiration come to form. One thing really...

silence being no less than words.

emptiness,

form. 

it's the Heart Sutra of a writing life.

~

Peace, Eric 

My Surrender

My surrender: 

and I call it my surrender, and yet really I play so little as an active role, everything simply already in the motion of letting go and only now I seem to be aware that this is so. It's not my surrender anymore than I can lay claim to ownership of any aspect of life, believing myself to be solely in control of how it flows, as if I have any say in what stays or goes. Life is far too mysterious for me to have any real sense of being in control, it's a belief that's been surrendered long ago, and again without any choice of my own. It's just a turn of life, how things have happened, and with my response so seamlessly entwined through it all that it's easy for me to believe that I'm in charge. 

but really, 

I've been surrendered long ago.

or at least so it seems - life is motion, continuous, and my surrender occurs through the very same instant I'm reborn as something entirely unique and new, and again it's all so seamless as to be barely noted. This is creation, death and resurrection through instantaneous surrender and becoming, a process of its own accord with absolutely no point of my control. 

I am fully of the process. 

and yet I bear responsibility, as an appearance in this flow there's compassion for how it all unfolds, sorrow for what seems lost even as it's becoming something other than before. My surrender is reality, and so too is each moment of  my becoming, creation being equal in loss and the gain of  brand new worlds. I am Shiva now, destroyer of worlds and the cause for their return.

it's not my surrender at all,

life is simply happening...and I belong fully in it's flow. 

~

Peace, Eric  

Maharishi Effect

Maharishi Effect: 

without answers, but still a wish to heal the world - and with this I resolve to bring just a little more light to all, my own sense of peace overfilled to calm and heal others who are near, really, to simply meditate and have this be my point of action. I know that Maharishi Mahesh Yogi claimed that if a small percentage of people meditated that it would influence society as the whole, lowering crime rate and raising consciousness throughout the entire population. This was dubbed the Maharishi Effect and has been studied and researched for its validity. My own sense is that it's true, or at least so in essence, and my own meditation practice seems to bear this out. Of course I could be wrong, the Maharishi might have been wishful in belief and I could be overly optimistic of my practice. 

and yet...

it's what I have to offer, my own peace of mind is given to the world daily, my light impartial in its shine, and every action of consequence is from this point of love. I am the Maharishi Effect, an influence through the immediacy of my contacts. This isn't through any mystical means, it isn't a web of yogic powers that reaches deep within the thoughts of those around me. I'm just happier now, more apt to give a smile, forgive, and be attentive, compassionate, and empathetic towards others. I am also guided through my politics and beliefs, wishing a greater good for the world, taking conscious action with such things as dietary choices, where and how I do my shopping, little things with no apparent effect measured, but add value to how I experience life. 

will meditation end violence? 

heal the rift of our political discord? 

yes.

because it only needs to influence one person, being a personal Maharishi Effect, bringing just a bit of light to our own small choices made daily and how they ripple through the world. Meditation isn't the only answer, far from it, but it's my answer to an almost overwhelming sense of sorrow to where we are right now. I meditate and take spontaneous action to heal my own rift between myself and others until there seems to be no real distance found between us, no discord of beliefs and views, and we arrive to a simple truth of one existence with infinite points of our expression. 

this isn't being idealistic, it's far more practical than theory - it's my personal Maharishi Effect, offering peace through my own small practice, a little thing, true, but it's immediate, effecting my world right now, healing, and it's what I have to offer. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Headless

Headless: 

this doesn't need an origin story, no description at all really, although it's an allowing place for anything to be told - I am aware, conscious of being so, and this is all I know for certain. My origin is always right now, this present moment only, and it's impossible to truly describe by using words alone, and this why we point to our headless reality, a gesture that shows us who we really are. 

I'll try and be brief here, concise in explanation, with the most critical thing being to point and be witness to this in an instant, not relying on my secondhand account of a reality that's occurring always now. The claim is that we're headless and we take this with obvious disbelief, knowing full well exactly where our head is and ready to dismiss this silly assertion. Yet this meditation begins by simply asking for proof, immediate information to make certain this is so, and it requires a little humor, curiosity to explore why this would even be questioned. The truth is that we've never seen our head, our eyes have never been witness to themselves, and that we've always relied on the secondhand information of mirrors, photos, and what we've been told by others. 

look for yourself. 

here's the simple practice, pointing first to any object and note it briefly in description, that it has shape and color, appearing separate from whatever its neighbor. Now point to the obvious object of your head, that it should have similar attributes as any object and just as easily noted. There's a tendency to fill this space with information we've been told by others, a description given by mirrors and photos, and yet none of this is the truth appearing right before us - we are absent to our very own eyes, emptiness in the one place that's always held assurance.

headless.

but more, really, so much more - this is the headless reality that holds the world's promise, emptiness proving to be capacity for the universe appearing. This is our discovery of what we most truly are, the Heart Sutra of form and emptiness being just the same. It's an instant meditation, available at any moment's notice. 

yes, we are headless, yet our head appears to others, a seamless trade of grace and wonder as we hold their appearance sacred as our own. We have given our capacity as a gift for all the world, nothing to be excluded, unconditional in truest sense of love. In my absence, I see you, through emptiness I am your embrace, and it all happens without effort of my own, being simply how the world appears. There's no origin story here, everything simply is, and somehow we're all included, instantly, and always in this very moment. It defies description, and so we rely upon a gesture...

~

Peace, Eric 

View

View: 

my own view tends towards pantheism, that the universe itself is conscious, vibrant and alive, and I have no issue if anyone wishes to call this God. I base this on my own felt sense of awareness, deep meditation confirming what the ancient seers have reported, holy texts have stated, and even some modern physicist and neuroscientist have come to believe.  This is a little different view than panpsychism, which holds that distinct and separate minds collectively constitute consciousness, levels of awareness found through stages of life's evolution. I find it a valid point as well, intriguing, and even more so knowing that so many great minds have shared this point of view. 

however, I could be wrong about everything.

and perhaps it's just as likely that I am.

but perceiving consciousness wrongly doesn't change at all how I view the world, it's as god-filled and alive for me no matter the origin of my awareness. The hardcore scientific theory is one of chemical reactions, matter somehow in a chain event of activities leading to consciousness, a physical process that concludes with my awareness, and more so, that I am aware of this distinction. 

and all this, no less a miracle.

maybe even more so.

to think that I somehow gained this sense of knowing life, aware, conscious of my own distinction, and that it all arrived from dust and matter, an electrical impulse from eons ago that gave cause for this specific chemical mix to appear certain and aware. Science doesn't abdicate God in anyway, not in my sense at least, but only proves that life itself is a fragile miracle by its very nature, precious, and my purpose here is to honor this awareness, to be of service to this fragile world, loving by my own very nature. 

it's simply how I view the world. 

there's nothing at stake in my beliefs, life continues no matter how my awareness came to be, just as miraculous, as easily fragile and precious through every moment. I have no interest in being right or proven wrong. We all feel our way through life, being capable of only what we're able to perceive of ourselves through the lens of this awareness. It's how we view the world. So whatever the origin of consciousness, however it is that I now find myself aware, my view of life continues on...I am here to love and serve this fragile world. 

~

Peace, Eric  

My Insights

My insights: 

trusting my insights and at the very same time being free to let them go, recognizing that nothing is absolute in it's observation and value, and that what's received as knowledge is but a glimpse of all there is to ever truly know and understand. Any insight gleaned is temporary to this understanding, a portion to a seamless whole that seems impossible for the mind to fully grasp. This is the essence of a pointer, using a sliver of truth, words perhaps, a gesture, and bypassing the aspect of mind that only perceives a portion at a time - and of course not every pointer has equal value, an insight shouldn't be mistaken for reality in its entirety, again just a seamless sliver of the whole. 

so I trust my insights to lead me towards an expression of reality, my own artistic vision pointing to something deeper than my words alone can tell. I'm not offering truth, simply art for whatever it's worth, and mostly for my own sake, compelled to write and share, not to claim anything other than a moment spent listening to insights offered through the silence of the morning. 

no pointer is specific.

the classic example is the fool mistaking the master's finger for the reality of sky as she gestures to the vastness of their surroundings. Of course the finger belongs within the sky, embraced by the boundlessness of reality, an aspect of truth, but far from its entirety. I've often been the fool in my stories, getting lost in expressions through my own infatuation with words and the insights that they offer. Yet generally I've come to the point of letting go, a surrender of belief in any insight, and most especially my own - my every word is expressed within the vastness of all that can't be told. But I write them anyway, sharing, knowing fully well the irony of their gesture. 

everything already existing as the whole. 

trusting my insights...even as I let them go.

~

Peace, Eric 

Subject Reveals Itself

Subject reveals itself:

most often the subject reveals itself through writing, with the process being words first committed to the page and seeing what then wishes to be told. In this way I feel a sure connection to inspiration, my own agenda is relaxed and I make no demands for any theme to meet my expectations. Words alone are enough, fulfilling my desire to leave meaning on a page, lines where emptiness once issued its invitation for my writing to appear. I've often liken this to the Buddhist Heart Sutra, that emptiness and form are matched in existence and non-existence, a page and words being linked in the process of creation, one thing lending itself to the appearance of another. 

so the subject reveals itself as emptiness.

and somehow too,

form.

page and words. 

an empty page then isn't the absence of words but they unique place for their potential, the only opportunity for their appearance and story to be shown. I approach the page with reverence as well as assurance of my role - I am here to be of this process, my own emptiness matched to the page, temporary and brief in form, eager to see what subject is revealed. It's all so intimately and intricately linked, not one aspect existing on its own, no author until first words appear, everything dependent on the willingness of a page to be filled, inspiration being the entirety of the process.

most often the subject reveals itself through writing, and this is so because of the interdependence of page and words, inspiration and the appearance of an author, that it all comes together for its own fulfillment, as if clouds gathering and ideas to be stormed across a page. Conditions are right for this subject to be told, everything appearing at the precise and only time they could, writing happened...emptiness lends itself to form.

and the subject reveals itself.

it's just how things happen.

~

Peace, Eric 

Continuously Surrendered

Continuously surrendered:  

and that it's all continuously surrendered, every point of life is immediately given to release, and even thoughts that hold our memories are constantly renewed and rearranged, never quite the same as their previous recall. The whole process of living is one of letting go, it's not something we do but simply how life proceeds, nothing meant to last in any permanent way, everything continuously surrendered in the very moment it's conceived. 

life is motion.

yet our language seems to reflects a static world, that we perceive events as specific to an instant and not carried through every moment onward, life in constant surrender of its course, altering, responsive even to our most subtle thoughts and actions. There's just life, no separate events, nor true distances between us and whatever happens in the world. It's all just one great occurrence, motion, life continuously surrendered and renewed, always motion, flowing. 

really, we should speak in terms of verbs, as even objects are a vibrational force, more so a process than an actual state to be observed. Everything is alive with the energy of being, and our earliest philosophers perceived this as god, life force, and rightly so. We are in the very midst of creation right now, Eden in the ground beneath us, a garden of our own wonder and delight. This is where surrender brings us, every fresh moment a rebirth into this garden, renewed and given this one and precious instant to know ourselves within the world. 

we are continuously surrendered...

or perhaps better said...a surrendering,

 knowing ourselves as a verb, always motion, indeed, an aspect of only motion, life, brief in the appearance of specific form, but never ceasing in creation. We are artist found deep within our medium, immersed to the point of forgetting who we are. But always divine in brushstroke, holy in display and action, continuous in both surrender and expression. 

it's really all the same. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Law of Attraction

Law of attraction: 

that it all seems too spontaneous to ever possibly manage, life occurring so magically through both appearance and surrender, and that even our state of witness is simply arsing in this mystery. If there is a law of attraction than it's already now in action, life attracting all it ever needs for the continuation of its being, and our key role through this is to know that we belong, essential by virtue and simplicity of our appearance. We are part of this action, attracting all we truly need as well, air drawn naturally as breath, rainfall at the ready for our thirst, and the sun measured to the perfect distance for life to flourish. If there is a law of attraction...

we are already blessed, indeed.

with this it might be best to not interfere, trusting in the spontaneous attraction to provide our needs, offering least resistance by surrendering our demands and petty wishes. Perhaps the universe knows best in its care, giving us life and the means of its conditions, and all without a single point of our negotiations. This is the law of attraction through its grandest order, the universe itself providing us home and certain care, all we need is given, and our only role now is to follow suit, to be instruments of aide and compassionate service for benefit others. 

if there is a law of attraction than we are part of its action, not only of receiving but through all we offer to each other, to the world itself and the details that truly matter. We are not separate from any law or aspect of the universe, no, we are an manifestation of its will, part of its grand design even if spontaneous in our appearance. We are meant to be here, and the proof of this is that we are, and all that matters now is to embrace ourselves as essential to life's purpose. 

it seems to me that perhaps a greater law is one of expression, that life's purpose is designed for the temporary qualities of every moment to be shown, artful, and that our appearance is simply one of joy and wonder, finding ourselves aware of the uniqueness of our position. Of course I don't know anything for certain, and my every surmise is for myself alone, written and shared to fulfill the law of this expression. I am provided with desk and keyboards, an office to write from, coffee for my enjoyment, and a moment free to write my thoughts. Everything needed for me to write was attracted to this moment and this includes the appearance of an author. 

it's the law of attraction...

expressed. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Inherent Enlightenment

Inherent enlightenment: 

thoughts are let go, allowed in their particular moment, and then simply an easy return to mantra - that's the entire process of meditation, nothing difficult in its performance, no effort or concentration applied. Yet it's profound in the quality of its experience, leading to depths of stillness not readily revealed to my ordinary state of mind. I'm going to refer to the early Zen master Dogen here, although a different meditation practice, the intent and description is clear in his explanation of inherent enlightenment, that all of nature is inherently enlightened and that sitting meditation is just the rediscovery and demonstration of this direct experience of our true nature. 

nothing is gained through meditation. 

and yet...

there is so much revealed through the act of sitting quietly, not forcing thoughts away, but not actively engaging with them either, relaxed in the simplicity of this practice. Nothing is forced in meditation, at least not the method that I practice, it's not a strict protocol of mindfulness, watchful for a thoughts appearance. This is a joyful approach, sitting with a mantra that vibrates through my entire world of being, straight to soul and even further still. 

it's my inherent enlightenment - displayed.

of course meditation is the means to our inherent enlightenment, as it has been through the ages and it will always be so. But it is not the only way, every act performed with loving intent demonstrates our true nature, anything pure in action, devoted to its cause, it's all our inherent enlightenment displayed. My practice is meditation, and through sitting I see the aspects of my life unfold with this awareness, everything becomes involved the present demonstration of my nature. 

enlightened. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Only This

Only this: 

only this, and that's the realization, that there is nothing more than life happening right now - from the most subtle levels of energetic structure, particles dancing as vibrations through an infinite field of emptiness, and all the way to the present moment of what seems a mundane reality of our daily existence, only this, true magic really, life...being. 

it's what we are.

only this.

of course it seems obvious, science details our existence with keen insight and continuous investigating, offering deeper explanations to our mystery with every passing year. We know of the structure of DNA and it's course through time, how our personal state of being is mapped through the genetic material passed through ancient ages. Quantum physics describes our world as energy, vibrations that dance the daily reality of what seems solid and enduring, creating the very foundation of our lives. We have answers to certain mysteries, explanations given as to how our world ever came to be. 

yet nothing explains why? 

and more so, science seems to imply that this is all a study of separate parts, branches of reality that somehow don't tie together within our very own existence. Science is all self-study, inquiry, a deep dive within a continuous, evolving, fluid sense of being. We are not removed from this sense in anyway, it's an impossibility to know any aspect of the world without our own involvement. 

there's only this. 

life.

beingness.

that's the realization, our only true awakening, life waking to its own aware and vibrant nature. Only this, and at no point do we ever find ourselves excluded. It's an amazing insight, knowing ourselves as life in a continuous expression of emptiness and form, that we are eternal in process and essence, always becoming even as we seem to lose our current sense of structure. There doesn't seem to be an answer as to why and it truly doesn't matter either - there's only, always, this, just life...forever changing in expression. 

~

Peace, Eric 

A Sense of Quiet

A sense of quiet:

there's a sense of quiet now, a deeply settled feeling of stillness being at the heart of all matter even through the midst of motion, and I am simply an extension of this pattern. It's early, well before birds give consideration to song, no sounds but the thought of mantra whispering past, until this too vanishes to the morning hush. 

my world is seamless.

this is the value of early meditation for me, to easily match my inner state to the world at large and rest within this grand awareness. I enjoy this sense of quiet, knowing how briefly it will settle, that soon the world will wake with activity and my own mind will busy with the thoughts of the day. Indeed my world is seamless, matching the greater motion of morning as it gathers in momentum, busier, filled with plans and thoughts for the hours just ahead. I hold this edge of silence through the day, grown more subtle, but still and always present. Yet nothing is quite the same as this early morning stillness and its seamless reach across the world. 

a deep and utter sense of quiet.

and this is where I write from, immediately from meditation to the page, seamless too, and the sense of quiet given to the words. I will continue writing through the day, inspiration is always sudden and my pen is always ready to receive. But this hour now is truly special, holy even, as no filter exists between my mind and the source of inspiration. This is the hour of spirit, whispering for poets to awake and interpret the silence that is heard. 

it's the hour of our listening.

pure.

a deep and seamless sense of quiet. 

it's the hour of the soul.

~

Peace, Eric 

  

Only Love

Teach only love: 

clearly something isn't working, a failure on our most basic educational levels, that violence is a viable means of communicating social and emotional frustration and despair at their deepest and most savage point of expression. Our schools teach everything but how to navigate life in a meaningful, compassionate manner, leaving that aspect of life to family and religion. For some, maybe many, this has been a failure too, either a spiritual void in place where the teaching of love should be present, or a religion that pits believers of a one true faith against an enemy of all others. Politics and media are worse still, fueling division and stoking hate towards those who view the world in a different manner. Right now I'm reminded of a quote found in the spiritual texts A Course In Miracles - teach only love, for that is what you are. It seems a lesson we all need to remember. 

teach only love.

it's important to point out here that when I talk about education it's not about our school systems or teachers. Both my parents were educators, and truly this was their vocation, what they were clearly meant to do and their love for teaching children was the underlying aspect of their careers. Teachers provide the foundation from which our entire lives will rise from. No job is more important. For nearly every educator I believe that what they teach is already an expression of love, easily shown through their devotion to their role, opening a young mind to an entire world of learning. At a young age I was taught and continuously encouraged to be curious, a simple lesson that shapes me to this day. Curiosity is the means to explore and love the world, appreciating all that's different than what we know and hold familiar. That one lesson, to be curious and open, offered by so many teachers through the years, it was teaching love at its purest, deepest essence. 

but something isn't working, our culture is broken, guns are worshiped as a fundamental right, and our lives are seen as being worse less than the anger and fear of feeling threatened. This is a failure of education, and again at the most basic level of our own communication. How I respond to you is a vital part of education, an opportunity to teach only love, and it is taught through listening, appreciation for what others might offer, empathy and compassion to bridge the gulf between us. The most fundamental point of education has little to do with schools and everything to do with our own communication. This is on us. No one else will save the world, and surely it is threatened.

teach only love. 

for me, this is why I decided to teach meditation, my own clear vocation, a dharma path displayed to heal myself and others. It's just a moment of peace, nothing more really, and yet so much ripples outward  from this point of stillness. Early Zen Master Dogen taught that meditation wasn't a path towards enlightenment, but that it was enlightenment itself expressed through the act of simply sitting, that we embody the heart of the Buddha every moment on the cushion. And there we have an act of love, an act of utter faith that we are already enlightened and an expression of love right now, this very moment and nothing more is needed but to be it's demonstration. We are all teachers, and as Sufi poet Hafiz claimed, the subject tonight is love, and tomorrow night as well. What we teach...

is only love.

~

Peace, Eric 

Words Appear

Words appear: 

I'm not sure there's really such a thing as writers block, although there have certainly been moments in the past where words have seemed unable to find me and I've felt a creative rift from where I'd like to be. It's been a fairly long time since this has occurred though, and mostly I can attribute this to the practice of daily writing, meditation, and perhaps the single largest factor is the abandonment of my claim to being an author. Of course writing happens, words appear, and later I may even credit myself for their arrangement. Yet none of this was ever my cause, and at no point was I the creative influence that made any of this happen. In truth, I'm just an appearance too within the process, integral, but not the sole source of inspiration. 

words appear.

and it all happens completely on its own.

 that's what sets me free, knowing that I'm not responsible for the presence, nor absence of words, that creativity is a process that includes me, independent of my demands and schedule. I am simply part of the whole design, inspired only because of my belonging to the very source of inspiration. It's impossible to be blocked from being what we truly are - and so with this there comes a great relaxing, no longer having to believe myself in charge, writing happens, words appear, and I enjoy my sense of being part of the entire process...

an appearance too, it seems.

the old Zen saying is that when the student is ready the teacher will appear, and really, it's far deeper than this - that when words are ready an author will appear, briefly fulfilling the needs of arranging words in their creative order, and that it's all a spontaneous appearance of inspiration. Citing Zen again and we could call this satori, sudden enlightenment, but truly it's all sudden and spontaneous, author and words appearing at once without a prior sense of plan, everything happening without real cause or even effect, simply inspiration occurring on its own.

words appear.

writing happens.

somewhere in this...I find that I belong.

~

Peace, Eric 

Occurring

Occurring: 

that life itself doesn't really hold a struggle for us - not in our purest state of being, with the ease of simply being alive, aware, and at home within the world. This doesn't discount the sorrow and suffering that we so often experience, indeed, it's more of an acceptance that these are commonplace in their occurrence, aspects of life that can't be denied and shouldn't be resisted. Yet life isn't touched by these concerns, continuing in it's flow, effortless in surrender...occurring.

of course this can be argued otherwise, our world is torn by war, politics of divisions, a continuing pandemic. It certainly feels a struggle at times and I have often fought my own battles with darkness and despair. But these are issues of living, our everyday means of getting by and making do with the circumstances of our surroundings. Life, in essences, holds all of these concerns without struggle, allowing, offering no resistance to their presence. 

life...simply is.

our main issue of struggle is in seeing ourselves as somehow separate from the essence of life, that we are divine by separation and not for the reality of our inclusion. Life itself is divine, holy by very nature and we are an aspect of its flow, at no point separate from the whole. We found ourselves here with no struggle, occurring, spontaneous, aware. The universe too occurring perfectly set for our existence, air for an easy reach of breath, sun found at just the right length for the warmth of our survival, rain providing for our thirst, and fertile land to feed our hunger. 

life occurring with such ease.

this is the Taoist principle of Wu Wei, offering no resistance to what's occurring, in harmony with life and how it happens. Deeper still is its acceptance that there is only life, not a separate entity that controls the issues of living, but only, simply, life occurring.   

and that's exactly what we are.

life. 

with this seen we surrender ourselves to life at hand, our sorrow and suffering as natural as any other appearance, at ease with how the world unfolds. Yes, we still plan, still having goals for our fulfillment, but nothing is forced by expectations, our demands no longer given as concerns. Life happens, and everything is part of what's occurring. 

and now we understand. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Quality

Quality:

listening to rainfall this morning, a steady storm just before dawn, muting the normal early sounds that normally greet me. Just now the rain subsides and a lone bird sings note of it, and with no immediate reply silence returns for a long moment before the bird again gives voice. There has never been a morning quite like this before, similar perhaps in circumstance, yet the arrangement of rainfall and the following silence, single birdsong, and the value of my listening - there's a certain magic now to it all, everything belonging so perfect to the moment. I'm struck by the beauty of the world, appreciative that I somehow gave notice to the quality of the morning...

that my listening was essential for things to be this way. 

of course every moment has its magic too, it's own strange and raw beauty that often passes our attention - each instant is unique in what it offers. We are participants in this magic, always, even if we fail to notice, our presence is required for some alchemical process to occur, that just by being present, aware, we somehow add to the quality of the moment. 

again, we are essential for things to be exactly as they are.

the world transforms through this awareness.

yet not to imply that this happens through our individual action, or that any separation exists between awareness and what occurs. No, this all far too seamless, our presence simply belonging to the exactness of the moment, a quality shown within endless layers of other qualities appearing too. What I noticed this morning was rainfall, a single bird call and the silence in reply, all qualities of the moment, and that I am joined through listening, seamless, a quality too appearing through awareness, unique, but in no way separate from what's occurring. 

listing to rainfall...and I hear my own belonging. 

just a subtle quality too. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Mantras

Mantras:

sometimes I think that my entire meditation practice could simply be listening to bird songs play through the deep quiet of early morning. It seems the natural meditation of nature, the length of pause between each call perfect for my own stillness to settle too, a mantra of sorts, holy in its communication. A mantra works as a means of transportation for the mind, taking it from activity to more subtle levels of  consciousness, arriving to greater points of inner silence along the way. That's the space between each note offered by the birds outside my window, deeply quiet, as if the entire world hushed for just this moment, another gentle note leads me deeper still...

and only stillness now.

really, almost anything can take us there, whatever sound that seems to punctuate silence will always lead us to its return, following its vibrational path to its natural conclusion. The world is full of mantras, holy sounds each if truly heard. Nature plays these notes best of course, everything it's own rhythm, unconcerned by the pace of those rushing through the busyness of their lives. Birds sing for a variety of reasons, but for me, hearing them, it's always pleasure, joy, calling me to pause and listen. I never regret the moments that I do, giving myself fully to this mantra, even if only for an instant, following its very last note to a silence shared by all the world. 

indeed, a natural meditation. 

so this early mornings I sit and listen, matching my pace to the slow reach of dawn, unconcerned about words and what to later write of later - everything has it's own rhythm and words will find me when they're ready. This moment is filled with song, each note surrounded by its silent hold, seamless in the music that it offers. I listen to this mantra, holy notes, and it's enough for my own return to silence. There's nothing to do here, but continue with this listening....

and so my morning passes. 

~

Peace, Eric

Sleepless

Sleepless: 

sleepless night, all the way through and unable to even lay my head down for more than a few minutes, anxiety maybe, or perhaps something other that the doctors have yet to show. Regardless, I haven't been well and not for some time. Oddly enough, I appear to be healthy in almost every respect, proper diet, daily exercise along with additional walking and running, twice daily meditation to manage the toxicity of stress that so often runs rampant through our lives. My recent blood work, blood pressure, heart rate are all in order, better than average actually. But something's off, my breathing pattern disrupted and leaving me sleepless for several days now and it's a pattern that's often repeated. Being unwell can happen to anyone and it doesn't matter the previous health leading to this day. I know this as a truth, and sadly, so do many more. There's no escaping certain hardships in life. Unpleasant things happen to us all. 

that's just the way it is.

and yet there's always the beautiful, and a sleepless night, one that's felt near to be hopeless, provides ample time to reflect on qualities so often unexamined in waking hours when I feel fine. Let's call it a gift from sleepless nights, an opportunity to review my life in order. By this I don't mean casting my memory to the past and offering and judgement or comparisons, no, this is a current review of how my life is now, this moment of near anguish exhaustion and pleading for an easy, uninterrupted breath. There's beauty found right now, maybe especially now when any relief is felt so sharply. I can trace my breath to the moment of its disruption, rather slow and pleasing, sustaining, and that it keeps life is a beautiful thing to find myself aware of, rising, falling, amazing in its rhythm. And then my world is suddenly altered to an entirely other place, breathing rhythm lost to a panic heave, exhaled through stages to settle both my mind and body. The whole cycle is repeated countless times every night, more often now than ever before, weeks filled with sleepless nights. 

but I always return to the breath, somehow, its rhythm restored if only for the starting moment, the beauty of its offer found once more. Yet really there's no search to find any of this, not the suffering of breath and sleep interrupted, nor the beauty of it's even flow. Both are simply happening, seamless, different, yet equally belonging to the fullness of their moment. I find beauty right here, amidst a sleepless night, and it doesn't seem so rare, indeed, it's always present, occurring in same instant as my suffering and sorrow. Of course given my preference I would reduce the struggle, draw an easy breath, and sleep peacefully through the night. Unfortunately, that's just not as it is right now, it's a sleepless night, full of broken breaths, struggle, and yes, so beauty found. 

that's just the way it is. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Obviousness

Obviousness: 

mainly, I try not to write about spiritual concepts or my beliefs on certain topics, although I often do brush against the subjects on occasion and include them in my writing. But what I mostly try and share are experiences and insights that are less abstract in theory and more to be known deeply in the moment of reading, that yes, this feels to be something universal and equally so for every reader too. That's the value of meditation of course, that it's a systematic means of realization, proven through the ages since first Vedic seers observed the very silence of their mind. The right words can add to this value, pointers to the obviousness of our surroundings in a way that brings light to our own involvement in the moment. The best poetry is transcendent in quality, removing us from mere reading of the words to the actuality of the experience. 

pointers to the obviousness of our surroundings.

and more direct still is to simply open ourselves to the moment and all that it may hold, not shying from uncertainty and mystery, but allowing ourselves to be fully immersed in whatever's going on, mindful, yet not with technique or method, only through the process of living exactly through each moment. It's just being alive to the obviousness of what's occurring, life, all the way to the depths of our involvement. That life is all that's ever found right now. 

pointers to the obviousness of what we truly are.

beyond the use of words.

the immediacy of our experience.

this is the obviousness of the headless way, directly pointing to our own absence within a common view, and yet somehow finding ourselves aware and present as well, experiencing the seamlessness of the moment in a way that escapes the paradoxical use of words. This is why it's all so obvious, everything happening right now through the very instant of our enlightenment. We can't miss it, although it's often ignored for the convenient sake of the busyness of the world that we imagine. This isn't a claim that the world is all an illusion, it's Maya, that we simply get lost within life's play. The obviousness of direct pointing wakes us to the exactness of this moment, aware, embracing the reality of concepts existing only as a temporal experience, that life itself is always motion. 

but of course, again, these are merely words, pointers, 

and the obviousness of the moment...

is simply here. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Wait For Words

Wait for words: 

there's really no wait for words, although I often use the phrase as a description of the writing process, of how patience and silence play such vital roles in all that's ever creatively expressed. But perhaps waiting is too active a word to use here, implying a slight impatience for the creative flow to resume, or that silence alone isn't enough to sustain my interest. At this point in my creative life there isn't really a wait for words as there once was a few years before, now I see that silence is it's own fruitful reward, containing the possibility for every word that follows. Waiting alludes to the wish that something must follow whatever's happening in this exact moment, and hopefully soon for the sake of the writer. Yet with that we miss the subtle richness of the moment's silence, lost in our urge for words to always greet us, waiting, and completely missing the essence of our writing. 

it's silence that sustains us.

stillness.

of course I'll probably use this turn of words again, it's convenient in its description and certainly it sometimes feels like a wait for words to find me. But not as often as before, I'm apt to enjoy the pause of writing and to simply be content in silence, that there's true poetry found here without a single word yet offered. This cures my eagerness to write for the sake of writing, helping me correctly identify that silence alone is the real author of every word given, a creative source I've long taken credit for. There isn't really a wait for words because it's that very same sense of false authorship that finds itself waiting, a phantom at the keyboards, eager to prove words as the heart of it's existence. I'm not that author, or at least not solely so, no longer identified as the appearance of a writer. There's just writing as it happens, and silence in its absence, seamless, everything belong to the exactness of the moment.

 with nothing really to wait for.

mostly now I'm surprised to see words on the page, somehow filled through the mystery and magic of this moment. There was no wait for words here, and yet still they found me. Writing seems more to be the grace of words appearing, happening completely on its own and allowing me the credit. There was nothing to ever wait for, not really, words and silence belong to the exactness of their moment. 

always.

~

Peace, Eric 

Self-cooperation

Self-cooperation: 

that we exist at all is only through cooperation, from the seamless occurrence of particles dancing together for an atoms form, molecules bonding for the sake of cells, and our every body-part functioning for the singular purpose of bringing life - it's all an action of infinite love, the universe expressed through cooperation. Yet really it's more of a self-cooperation, that these multiple parts seen working as a whole are only and simply the wholeness itself, one thing, infinite in its expression. 

taken a step farther and we could say that it all stems from nothing, emptiness with a wish to be shown as form and somehow brings this cause to bear . The Buddhist Heart Sutra states that emptiness is non other than form, and form being nothing more than emptiness as well. Cosmologist tell of singularity of existence, dense with the energy of space-time, nothing else but this until a quantum fluctuation gave it reason to be more. They tell of the same thing as far as I'm concerned, that there is one thing in self-cooperation, every seeming part just an expression brought to form. The universe is a great work of art that requires an observer, and we are this role, as well as participants of its creation. 

one thing.

self-cooperation.

so our greatest truth is one of self-cooperation, not a functioning part of the universe but an aspect of its show. In this light we see that there is no cooperation between us, simply because there is no possible separation existing as a space between, only the appearance of duality occurs. Everything we seem to do is for the benefit of one, again it's all self-cooperation, existence alone, and we are temporary in belief and form. This can be liberating to considered, with no act ever being truly selfish as we only deny ourselves the gift our receiving, no real harm other than what we cause to our own concern. With this seen we come to real compassion, empathy, selfless action performed for the true cause of self-cooperation. We don't exist on our own, nothing does, there's only existence. 

no you, no me, 

being more seamless than together.

self-cooperation. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Physics of Language

Physics of language:

there is a well remembered quote from the spiritual text A Course in Miracles that states "let's not forget, however, that words are but symbols of symbols, they are thus twice removed from reality" - I keep this in mind through my own use of words, reminding myself that what I write is only a representation of the reality I wish to convey and will never quite capture the essence of the vision I put forth. But I don't completely hold the same opinion of distance from words to reality that the Course holds. I believe that words have an alchemical quality to them, transformative in their affect on those who read them, and although they remain symbols, they vibrate with the very same essence of what they wish to convey. It's the physics of a single word or well used phrase. The physics of language.

the argument is that no matter how descriptive the language used by Mark Twain in Huckleberry Finn, we still remain seated in our room, far removed from the Mississippi's flow, never actually feeling the power of the river as it meets an oar. Or as Alan Watt's famously said, " you can't get wet from the word water." What's Watt's is saying is that no matter how powerful the language, it is never the actual substance of its description. Thoughts only represent realty, not being the actual thing at all.  

but let's talk essence.

physics.

or at least my own imagined physics of language, my belief in the transformative and alchemical process of writing that allows words to carry the very essence of their description. Language is a powerful vibration of choice, a reader willing suspends the reality of a present situation and is carried to a realm of pure imagination, a dimension of  potentiality existing in the same moment of our ordinary lives. Through the right use of words we simply vibrate to other states of possibilities. Or maybe it's less physics and more of a shaman's journey - but my own imagination tells me they're the same. This insight informs me that in order for a symbol to be an accurate representation of a thing (no matter twice removed) it must carry the essence of the idea it represents, vibrating at a similar yet more subtle level of existence. That it's more a faint impression of the very same thing, an essence carried through vibration. This could be likened to a seed, that while an apple is never actually found within it's seed of origin, it's not truly removed either, there is always something of one found within the other.

essence. 

the right word is simply a seed of large ideas, not a symbol really, but a faint impression transported from the realm of our imagination. The physics of language is one of vibrations, a carried essence of what's imagined to the ordinary world of our perception. It's not that one is more real than the other, but more a quality of vibration, of same essence at its core. 

no matter how far it's seemingly removed.

~

Peace, Eric 

The Expression Itself

It's the expression itself that truly matters:

 I try and not state things in terms of being absolute, that what I express is in anyway a true and certain revelation. These are insights for myself alone, shared for what I feel is the sake of art, as words are given only to be read by others too. I love the phrase "prose poem" and that's really what I strive for, successfully so or not is for me to say. What I do is simple, a plan of silence and then whatever words appear, writing with an easy manner, without a chase for theme or words, letting ideas find me as I go. Nothing is forced, mistakes largely ignored as I focus on the flow of words. The expression itself is all that truly matters. My satisfaction is through the whole process, found in the silence just before and following each word, in the joyful turn of certain phrases and any insight they provide. 

but it's the expression itself that truly matters.

so anything I write should never be taken as literally so, insights are meant to guide us to a fluid truth, certain only for the moment that they're written and then let go. Nothing is ever absolute, least of all words that merely act as symbols for some deeper insights found through the silence of their hold. Words are pointers, vital in their purpose, but never meant to be taken for the reality of this moment. Reading the right flow of words is actually an act of surrender, an artful act of letting go, as each word loses itself again to a silent pause before another word's appearance. 

it's the same with writing. 

and it's why I consider everything I write as an expression of art, that it's only meant for the moment of my writing and then surrendered to whatever other purpose it might hold. It's not my role to provide any meaning to a reader, it's the expression itself that truly matters, the art of its arrangement, and the entire process of this inspiration - my role is only through this moment, and then surrendered to any reader who find these words. 

any meaning found is yours.

~

Peace, Eric 

Single Body

Single body: 

our skin too belongs to air, less a barrier than a bridge touched between a gathering of our senses and the extension of the world. There is really only one body, found in layers and perceptions, universal, expanding in its self-creation. We are the singularity that somehow desired it's expansion, the continuation of the Big Bang, individual, aware, but always part of this enlargement of desire, a single body really. In this light we are simply layers of participation, cells and molecules of the next greater layer, being the skin of some further continuation of this expansion. 

essential aspects of the whole.

a single body.

yet we believe ourselves to be somehow smaller than this, a world entirely of our own separated from infinite other smaller worlds, all untouched by the very thing of our containment. But there is only a single air between us, one sky caressed against each world, being the bridge of our connection. We are not smaller worlds at all, something far greater still, and not even really layers of participation - we are that single, larger body, the universe in self belief of being a smaller world. It's an illusion of the senses, that we claim the view as ours alone, every sound only for our ears, a touch exclusive to our skin. It's not like that at all though, letting go of the belief of self containment and our world grows very large at once,immediately found infinite, a single body that even now continues in the sweep of its expansion. 

so this single body is ours, not the small world of our beliefs but this whole great expansion and our every experience, each sound and scent, everything seen and known by touch, it's all perceived through the universe at large. By the single body of our existence. Just one thing, one experience alone, vibrating through the entirety of the whole. We belong at air, and further still....

we continue.

~

Peace, Eric 

Inspiration Always Finds Me

Inspiration always finds me: 

with infinite things to write of, this moment, and inspiration finds me here - right now it's early morning, sun still not even a hint of being shown, deeply quiet except for an occasional note from a lone bird outside my window, it's call, as yet unanswered by a chorus that's will soon arrive. This is my writing time, my ritual of morning, sipping coffee, and completely unconcerned of any topic or theme to write of, no need to search for certain words. 

inspiration always finds me here.

this ritual has been long cultivated, years of showing up here before the sunrise, a first meditation to immerse myself in the deep silence of the morning, my practice being patience, no rush for anything to be accomplished. My pace is matched to the slow process of the sun, dawn has an easy reach without rush to light the day. I can afford to take my time, inspiration always finds me here, and there's absolutely nothing that needs to be written. The silence of the morning is enough for me to sit and listen to, a poetry of air in its quiet wait for any sound, stillness and the potentiality for motion to arise. There are infinite things to write of in this moment, and inspiration always finds me here.

what I long ago discovered is that there's no need for me to write of anything at all, there doesn't have to be a topic, no grand theme full of meaning and importance. There are endless things to write of and this is because this moment, right now, and always right now, is my singular point within the infinite, nothing being separate from the universe at large, this moment itself eternity. How could I not be inspired? Anything written now has arrived from a place of mystery, every word is spontaneous in its appearances, gifted to my mind to ponder, for my fingers to type, and to this moment on the page. 

so really, inspiration doesn't find me, it's here all along, the infinite disguised as my ritual of the morning, providing me with endless things to write of, or nothing at all, as silence itself is so full of possibilities and meaning, always sharing without need of being expressed as words. This is the infinite, right now, all of it, with silence and words both being found within the seamlessness of its embrace - and I too belong here, simply part of this endless inspiration.

always.

~

Peace, Eric 

Field of Creativity

Field of creativity:

that it's all a field of creativity, everything, and we too are simply means of this expression - there's really no other explanation for life, for our existence in the world. Neither science nor religion ever really captures the essence of why we are here, with science offering detailed evidence of how the universe came to be, and religion providing myths to satisfy the curiosity of our minds. My own theory is one of possibilities, that we belong within an infinite field of creativity, and reality is in constant rearrangement of itself, spontaneous, an expression never meant to last beyond the moment it arises.

a cosmic art form.  

of course this isn't really a theory, let alone one of my own ideas, it's just a play of words to capture the deep sense of belonging to some vast field of creativity, that I am an aspect of life that seems to have somehow found itself aware, awakening for the sole purpose of appreciation and participation in this creative act of living. We are an expression of the whole universe, artfully arranged through every given moment, fluid, vital. We are infinitely expressed, but only temporary in this particular presentation, and even now we're shifting towards another show of who and what we truly are...

motion.

art.

an infinite field of creativity.

 and with this our every expression is just right, unable to be judged as anything other than divine by very nature. Our participation is given so that we can be continuously expressed, constantly rearranged through every possibility of living. We are not meant to be static, to hoard our worth in small beliefs of who we are - we are the universe in creative display, infinite, designed to participate within the grandness of this full expression. We are the entire creative field arranged to show a lifetime, spontaneous, ever changing, and now aware that this is so. Our every act is creative, divine, and with this we let go of each expression of the past, allowing ourselves to participate in what each moment offers, a constant presentation of life through every possible arrangement. 

an infinite field of creativity.

~

Peace, Eric 

World Turns Green

World turns green: 

this is when the world turns green and bright with colors that display the vibrancy of life, it's the show of winter's dormant worth through another seasons gain. Winter appears barren for certain trees and plants, yet life is simply slowed for their protection, a forest's deep rest before again this vibrant green returns and wakes my world from its own seeming slumber. I come alive in the warmth and green of spring and early summer, a cold depression lifted by the reach of verdant branches and the fractals they display, by the nearness of sun touched against my skin. 

my soul is reawakened as the world turns green.

winter has its beauty, stark lines of empty branches framed against the sky, earth itself unadorned and offered in the innocence of its deep rest, it's vibrancy shown in slumber. I find beauty in winter, creativity, and my own slower pace of moving through the season is healing in its way. There is a need for winter, the rest of spirit and body that it provides, a preparation for another season's warmth and color. Life is seen more clearly through the aspects of its change, its continuation through each season, from subtle displays of winter to the full show of spring's verdant offer. 

everything belongs, for whatever length its season.

but knowing this doesn't always help my soul through winter, as cold touches deep and my body yearns for longer days of sun, for just a light touch of warmth, or a small show of green. Winter seems a longer season for me now, a bit harder on both spirit and my body. And following seasonal patterns I find myself withdrawing deep within, offering my own stark lines, protecting myself against the worlds cold touch and loss of vibrant color. It's a hard season for so many. 

and as the world turns green...we celebrate springs's return. 

the sun is that much nearer, more warmth given to its touch, and those once stark lines of branches are now blooming in green leaves and the blossoms of their nature. It's a season of renewal. Of course there is no lasting season, there is always change and motion, a fast approach of summer, autumn, and another winter always follows. My approach is to simply live within the present season, colder months are over now, it's spring, and the world turns green with grace and wonder. 

that's enough for me right now. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Without Any Real Effort

Without any Real Effort:

so now I'm  approaching the end of my meditation instructors training, six months of learning how to teach, and after 30 years of practice - every aspect leading to this point has been life changing for me. I'm fortunate to have discovered meditation during a troubled time of heavy drinking, loneliness, the end of a long term relationship, and so many unanswered questions concerning my life's path, actually, so many questions simply unasked for fear of having no answers. Meditation helped me gain the courage to ask, and more so, to be okay with the fear of not knowing answers, or even what to ask of myself. What my practice did was to help me relax as the person that I was, while providing space for the person that I found myself becoming. It still does, and all without any real effort to this cause, just a natural unfolding of my life. 

easy, effortless. 

yet not without action. 

and that's an important understanding, for when there's talk of least effort it's sometimes taken as no action at all, a passive approach to life, and this couldn't be farther than the truth at all. My example is ending my relationship with alcohol, that it wasn't a battle of hard knuckle withdrawal, filled with interventions and rooms of smoke filled meetings. Although that's a path so many have to take, it wasn't mine, for whatever reason, but mostly simply the grace of something unexplained - it was my time to stop drinking. I somehow knew this, and so I moved myself into alignment with whatever energy was drawing me to new directions. Without any real effort. But with definite actions taken. Drinking was a way of life for me, sociable, my friendships were all bar related, and I drank with singular purpose - my goal was to alter the perception of myself through consumption of alcohol. In other words, I drank for the sole reason of getting drunk. Period, And I did, daily, even as I maintained a rigid fitness routine, competitive in martial arts and weightlifting. But never truly happy. 

being in alignment healed me, helped me find a happiness that was independent of my goals, of career, and relationships. Meditation helped bring me into alignment. The process for me wasn't to rid myself of flaws but to find myself fully whole with every single perceived flaw, to just allow myself to be exactly and only what I was through every given moment. There isn't any real effort in this sense of being...life simply is, and continues to unfold as so.

easy, effortless.

what meditation did for me, does, is to help keep me responsive, open, trusting that I remain aligned with life, indeed, that there is only life in full alignment. There isn't any real effort in being alive, no struggle for breath to find me, my body functions with a wisdom of its own. So I relax in my true nature, an aspect of life, human, flawed only through my own perceptions. It's healing to simply allow myself to be...and meditation provides me the space for this healing to occur. 

and all without any real effort. 

~

Peace, Eric