Voice

Voice: 

it's not so much the presence of a self that's my concern, it seems pretty evident to me that there is something of value in the appearance of the ego, that it's a navigation force to guide me through certain aspects of the world. That the self has no inherent reality of its own is a realization that keeps it's role in check and I am less inclined to give attention to the every demand and need that ego often calls for, there's greater joy and a sense of freedom with the reduction of its role. The debate of no-self vs. its presence holds little interest to me, as my own self seems fairly organic in it's appearance, a naturally occurring phenomenon of various reasons to exist. What I find it that there's a diminished referral to it's presence, less need for its voice to be central in command. 

there's a quiet voice that guides me now.

there's even some hesitation to call this presence a voice, offering another label that only lends more weight to the ineffable force that guides me. More truly I should simply say it's life, that everything is spontaneously and naturally occurring as the flow of life and all its functions. What's found isn't the absence of a self, but completely seeing that there is no doer here at all - what's absent is anything that calls orders as to how this life should now appear, that there's no separate self in charge of how my life unfolds. There's only life itself, free flowing in it's existence, and without need of a command for its path to be followed. This is the quiet voice that guides, the very same one that urges plants to bud and later blossom. It's the voice of seasons changing and earth's rotation, of cells formed of ever smaller patterns, particles swirling an entire world to form. 

such a quiet, true, creative voice.

if a self appears, it's simply part of life, having a season too within our lives, and a role to play for how ever long we listen. And yet in time there comes that quiet voice to hear once more, life being insistent in the reality of its way, steady, and always flowing with out interest. This is the true and only self, one thing only, and it lends itself to every appearance of the world. 

it's the quiet voice that guides me now.

~

Peace, Eric 

Quiet Hours

it's those moments right after meditation that I enjoy, and most especially in the morning, rising so early just to extend this quiet hours for as long as possible. Everything is so seamless now, spacious, as if silence is selective in what's allowed to reach my ears. I love to simply sit, breathing soft, listening as the morning unfolds, cherishing every subtle sound and how they're immediately re-embraced by silence.  There is no split here, no inner world of my own that's separate from the morning, there's an equal stillness to it all, a mindful extension of what belongs within these quiet hours of mine.

meditation is my joy, and if there's any measure found here, it's in the moments that always follow, that I hold a stillness well beyond the time of sitting, a gift of silence infinitely unfolding. It's not exclusive to the morning, but these quiet hours seem to best match their mood to mine, giving me the gift of such a silent world to enjoy a little further. I always smile when asked if there's a need to practice meditation for the point of awakening, does enlightenment follows from the time of sitting - and honestly, I have no idea, I suspect so, but meditation has no real point, nor purpose beyond the enjoyment of settling within those easy moments of grace, silence, and breath. Any and every benefit is a bonus, arriving as a gift for my commitment of enjoying the quiet hours of my sitting. 

and it's a gift that keeps offering itself throughout the day in so many subtle and different ways, how my mine will suddenly find itself in a place of stillness in the midst of hurried thoughts, simply quiet, filled with a gratefulness for each moment, spontaneous in its appearance. It's as if my early morning meditation time courts these gifts to arrive in such unexpected fashion, surprising me in the continuation of all its unfolding silence. This is why I wake so early, not only for the time spent sitting in the quiet hours of morning, but for those moments that follow after, as if a seed is planted every morning that grows in silent wonder through the day, and every so often...

I am gifted with its blossom.

~

Peace, Eric 

Given Time

Given time:

given time - but really only an illusion of a moment, an instant that seems to take an entire lifetime, experience to each experience, until we at last reach an ending. 

this is how our lives are measured, that we are given an allotted number of days to spend through useful and expected ways, a well lived life of purpose and good meaning. Except perhaps that none of it's true, again with time being just a useful illusion, and that all we're really ever given is a single moment lasting for a lifetime. I don't believe we're given time to use, a  to have a lifetime measured by achievement and sheer accumulations. I most definitely could be wrong on this, but if there's a purpose to life it's to simply breathe, to be alive, and with our only true meaning expressed through love, with time being the grace we're given for this expression to be known. 

of course I don't anything, not really, with time being to mysterious for me to even consider its stretch and implications. Science says that time is a reality of particles, an aspect of our DNA that is limited to the hours of its expression, a story told through the motion of our bodies. Yet quantum physics also tells of its deeper, illusory nature, time being only apparent in the presence of a storyteller. The question comes to be asked of what can truly be measured, and with this we see that only aspects can be quantified, singular events within an ever greater union. DNA tells the story of our bodies, one story only, and that we are more perfectly told by all that's beyond the scope of time and measure.

 so, we're not really given time, it's just another story told. But we are expressed through the moment of its illusory span, a limited appearance in this particular form and view. It's why any of this occurs at all that remains a mystery, existence always being unexplained. With this we are free to assign life its purpose and its meaning, being artist of its arrangement. In the end of this particular appearance, nothing truly will be measured at all, an illusory span simply parting to something other. 

only reality continues on.

~

Peace, Eric 

A Little Bit Easier

A little bit easier: 

it's all a little bit easier, life, or at least it seems to be - and that's been the lasting and happy effect of meditation, self inquiry, and simply resting in each moment as it presents itself to me. More so, life is not the least bit altered through its approach, nor is my response to what it offers. There is still good fortune and what's judged bad, events that serve in productive ways, as well things gone wrong. Everything belongs exactly as it does, and what I find now is that there's a deep relaxation with this, that my response fits in seamless order too, belonging entirely to the moment itself, and no need to carry it beyond occurrence. It's all a little bit easier, and not because my life is somehow different than before, but only because I allow myself to belong exactly as I am, no matter what the moment holds. 

of course this is just a bit misleading, saying that I allow myself to belong is claiming way too much responsibility to my role. The truth is that there's only allowing, and that I am not the one who nods acceptance to what appears, denying some and refusing what's not pleasing, again it's all allowed, everything, and my only realization was that I belonged within this order, my every response, mistakes as well as my most cherished accomplishments, all part of this allowing. 

none of it is personal.

life is a little bit easier now, and only because I'm relaxed to how I respond within its flow, knowing that no true mistakes occur that hold me to the past or reflects to future. Karma is always found present, altering even as the moment happens. I am reminded of the recovery movement's concept of making amends, and see this as not an effort to fix the past, nor even to seek forgiveness, moving forward with an eased conscious - amends are made in order to accept the present moment, healing is always and only taking place now or not ever at all. 

seeing this, that life itself holds no grudges, and that everything is allowed simply by virtue of appearance, by presence alone, and that none of this is responsive to my demands nor prayers for things to be other than they are right now. What makes life just a little bit easier is seeing how even my prayers and demands belong within their moment. Nothing has to change, but it will, it's changing now, life being nothing but motion, fluid, and always allowing in its flow. 

just seeing this, and it's all a little bit easier. 

somehow.

~

Peace, Eric 

Supremely So

Supremely so:

when asked what he was, if he was a god or man, the Buddha simply replied - I am awakened. And by this he meant supremely so, that he saw through the conditions of suffering and their cause, no longer caught in a cyclical existence of grasping for what's always out of hand. He was at peace with life exactly as it's found and only wished his teachings to serve others to awaken. The irony here is that we're all capable of this awakening, right now, and yet to strive for such a goal will only lead to suffering. Enlightenment is a concept that's forever out of reach as long it's pursued. The Buddha's way is joyful surrender to each moment, not denial of suffering but to addresses its cause with the discernment of true and gentle seeing - and with this we find ourselves awakening, maybe not yet supremely so, but with a greater ease and helpful grace to our everyday living. 

it's enough to make a difference. 

the Buddha offered his Eight Fold Path as a means for our awakening, and many Buddhas since have given their own way for us to follow. Jesus on the cross taught salvation through forgiveness, supremely so through the moment of his greatest suffering. Wisdom from A Course in Miracles tells us that the only true lesson of the cross is that we will all survive our own crucifixion, forgiveness being the means of our salvation and resurrection is our awakening. When Jesus said "Father, forgive them for they do not know what they do" he spoke of our ignorance as to who we really are, urging our awakening through the example of his suffering and later resurrection. 

these are great teachers, supremely so.

and yet not the path for everyone. 

some people awakening spontaneously and through no means or way of practice. The great sage Ramana Maharishi reached an instant and initial realization through an existential crisis at the age of 16, a sudden fear of death gave cause to an inquiry that lead not only fear but ignorance to fall away. Many others have had such awakenings, a glimpse for some perhaps, and a deeper realization for a few. It seems purely the means of grace for this to happen, no path to follow, no practice to lead them on the way. There 's no real answer as to why it happens in this way, and if asked they often answer with a smile. 

the way of grace remains a mystery.

here's my story, told briefly, it's of awakening, life unfolding and sometimes there's a clear and easy seeing, insights, a realization of the perfect grace of every moment. But not always, or at least not always apparent. My story is told as life, fully expressed through grace as well as suffering, seeing and aware, yet often blind to depth of my true presence. It's my own path, wondrous, joyful through it's every presentation of gain and sorrow. It's simply how life happens, and I find myself grateful as to how it all unfolds...

supremely so. 

~

Peace, Eric   

The World Will Open

The world will open:

perhaps our most cherished belief is that we're capable of such great change in the destiny of our lives. We loves to think that we're in charge of the outcome of our lives, and that with just a little more effort, some direction and determination, and maybe just a bit of luck - that the world will open with success and endless opportunities as our reward. Yet it seems that for many of us this dream is forever slightly from our reach, we're never quiet there, our dream lives elude us no matter how hard we work. Which of course leads us to either work harder, or conclude the world is rigged against us and we never stood a chance. A few fortunate ones do seem to reach the apex of their dreams, achieving everything they imagined and sometimes much more. It does pay to work hard and be lucky. 

at least for some. 

none of this is really true, it's mostly a story we're taught to believe from very early on, instilled in us as children as the work ethics of success and that the worst of life is to be viewed a failure. In this way the system truly is rigged against us, our innocence and innate creativity are lessened in a trade of effort and belief of working harder than the others, applying ourselves more to always do better than our last achievement. It's always more and it's never enough, and this is learned through generations, carried down from a tradition that has failed our natural sense of possibilities. 

the thing is, we're not truly educated, yes, we're taught facts and critical ways to view the world, but we're never taught about spirit, about soul and it's expression. This isn't meant as individual soul as some religions mention, nor spirit in the sense of ethereal qualities that have no bearing on the world. It's about who we are before a single story is told about us, that it's all soul, our connection to nature, each other, and to life itself. Our spirit is simply the freedom that exists beyond the scope of stories. It's who we really are and in knowing this, or more truly said, remembering this - indeed, the world will open to our every possibility. 

none of this takes effort, at least not in the sense we're taught in school - it only takes determination to see, dismissing our every hard instilled belief as being essentially true and being curious as to who, what, we really are. Some beliefs and stories serve us well, others seem to limit our natural and creative expressions. The role of questioning, inquiry, is to remember who we are without any story told, and then with this freedom we allow ourselves to be expressed as unique aspects of life, our purpose served by simply living, no higher calling than to be alive and full of love for every other expression of the world. It's with this that the world will open in its true realm of possibilities, we are free from being told of success as something to be achieved, and now view ourselves in the light of infinite potentiality, that the world will open to our every and any expression that seeks to be told. 

it all begins by asking who, what, we really are.

~

Peace, Eric 

Sometimes I write

Sometimes I write:

sometimes I write simply for the rhythm of the words, for the motion of fingers across the keyboards and then the pause that always seems follow after just a bit of writing - this is where words come to gather, arriving from wherever they were moments just before, and somehow inspired to appear, now belong completely to the page. 

with this I know that I am not the real author here. I am not the originator of these words, nor creator of their rhythm and flow. I am just part of the process of writing, essential to its motion, poetry in essence too. It's all a seamless expression of whatever wishes to be told, a momentary story with no true meaning until assigned by any reader. With this I am granted the freedom to write without care of any outcome, a grace given to belong fully to the expression and not make claims of being the author. 

sometimes I write simply to remember this.

the question often asked, is who than is the author? And I'm lost with my reply, their is no sole ownership here, no point in claiming motion, nor any inspiration that's received. Writing happens, words appear, and I am fortunate to somehow be a part of it all. That's truly all I know of this, of anything really, life - that it all happens as a gift, grace, and we're all included in its process. Anything more to say is a story for someone else to tell, another writer's inspiration. 

sometimes I write to simply disappear.

it becomes a meditation of sort, a repeated mantra of changing words through every moment, a sutra of poetry and rhythm. In this I disappear within its flow, being just motion and pause, hearing words without identity of listener, everything belonging exactly and only as it appears without label. That's the magic, being truly of the process and unconcerned of final outcome. Sometimes I write solely for this reason, to remember myself as purely magic, an appearance too within the world, a temporary story with a life of ever shifting meaning, and told by infinite authors. 

yes, I write simply for the magic of it all.

~

Peace, Eric