My Own Seasonal Grace

it's my own seasonal grace - that it all occurs within and as my personal experience, and every thought and mood passes through this all allowing field. Nothing will last beyond the moment its been given, having a season that belongs to its own length and rhythm, an understanding that defies my own wish for perhaps another, different season. It's here that grace is delivered through not my own merit, but by virtue that life is constant in the changes that it offers. There is nowhere else to go, no meditation to escape this moment, and only a means to simply welcome what is and always now, whatever season that may be. 

Because It's So

because it's so - and in this, our argument against reality, the present moment, is done. This is our only awakening, that what we experience now is accepted not through our volition but by virtue of its appearance within our life. Allowing isn't a personal verb, it's the grace of recognition of what is, and the equal grace of knowing that all things must eventually go. We are not mere passive observers of this, we are a vital force participating as the whole, life itself  in full display of possibilities. As this - nothing is denied. Our pain, every deep ache, and longing, belong just the same as every wish fulfilled. Even our refusal to all of the above, a continued fight against what's found this very moment - simply comes to this allowing on its own. 

Because it's so - and there's nothing we can do

until the present moment unfolds as

something new. 

~

Peace,

Eric 

Truly We Don't Know

it's truly that we don't know, an impossibility of nothing that leaves us firmly in the grip of indescribable mystery. Today I viewed tree forsaken of leaves that just days ago offered a bright display of color, it's a seasonal conclusion to the vibrant life brought by the green of spring and summer. I understand this cycle, a witness to the seasonal grace of season coming to an end in the same moment another comes to begin. Yet what mystery urges an exact wind to reach a leaf that clings for just this instant in its reach? In the aftermath of its fall, what will be nourished in its decay for a spring release? Is this new life separate from that which offered itself for its arrival? There's an interplay of life, everything touched upon another so seamlessly it's impossible to say there truly is another. This includes my observation - my inquiry lending me to this unanswerable moment of wonder. I don't know anything beyond seeing a tree in the autumn of its existence, the experience of my observation, and the mystery that somehow brought this moment all together. 

~

Peace,

Eric 

Loss Of Meaning

there's a loss of meaning - words such as allowing, forgiving, and surrender, all actions of their own without my aid or interference. These are concepts assigned to a natural order. I am not a force that allows or surrenders, there is nothing to forgive once the moment of occurrence is over. This all happens on its own and only later do I come and claim to be the one of doing. Yet still I like them as ideals, holding less meaning only diminishes my role of importance and not their own natural function. I now recognize that something is allowed by virtue of its appearance, forgiveness simply happens once the instant passes, and surrender is just this moment and the subtle nod to all that's present. The meaning is lost because I'm no longer responsible to make any of this happen, and in truth, never was at all. 

It all functions completely on its own.

~

Peace,

Eric 

Old Wounds/Present Hurt

I’m amazed that old wounds still find news ways to haunt - it’s not a matter of forgiveness, letting go, or positive thoughts. What hurts - hurts. And often will for a very long time. Instead of changing focus, or inquiring into the nature of my wound(s) or even a deep dive into who it is that experiences this hurt - it’s enough to simply open to it, again, and even again as often as it’s thrown my way. There’s no escape. Today’s hit came by blindside, an instantaneous stab on sight. It wasn’t even specific to me, a witness to a confession where I was a casual aside to an event that once shattered my life. So here I am, embraced within a hurt that leaves me no option but to return its embrace and let it be without question. There will be time for that, introspection, inquiry, a note that it all occurred within an all allowing landscape of peace. Knowing this doesn’t remove the sting - but perhaps it helps keep the long view in sight. I wrote earlier today about participation - and I hear I am, participating in this aspect of life called heartbreak. I don’t like it. I don’t have too. In fact I don’t have to do anything at all - but simply know it all belongs. No one gets a pass from life. Any of it. It’s enough to be alive. Sometimes a participation trophy is its own, best reward.

Peace, truly, Eric

Participation Award #2

it's the impossibility of dodging raindrops through a storm - we are participants by simply being present, becoming wet with the reality of rain. So too there is no escaping any aspect of life, each thought is welcomed by virtue of its appearance, emotions occupying a brief moment of our mind. We are participants of life - simply by our presence. 

~

Peace,

Eric 

No Matter

no matter - and it's just this, whatever each moment may hold, life continues in its flow, and our discomfort, or most cherished gift received, last through the same effect of time. No matter how we wish for things to turnout otherwise. 

~

Peace,

Eric