Nothing To Return To

 

Nothing to return to:

there is nothing to return to, no normal life where I belong - without rush I find myself only in this moment, accepting the certainly that the world belongs exactly as it is right now. With equal grace I know that this too will change, life being motion, and that my own acceptance of the moment may shift to strong desires. Everything belongs. 

it's about relaxing, as I am and as things are, right now - there is no reason for things to be imagined otherwise, or that I am able to manipulate reality to fit my will. This is reality, present moment always, and it's constant in surprise, never once truly repeated, life in its full allowing nature. Of course I don't always find myself aligned with what's appearing, wishing more for a sense of ease than accepting what is found. That's just the way it happens, getting caught up in the currents of my mind. But again, and as often as it appears, I find myself relaxing in the faith of all that's given, there is no escape from now, life will continue offering itself through infinite fashion - and this is my acceptance. 

so this is it, for now my life includes the disorder of the virus, a certain amount of fear and a great deal of unknown circumstances sure to be appearing. It's the reality of the moment and no amount of wishing for a previous way of living will return it as before. But it's changing, things are already shifting to new reality of the moment and it's this very motion that gives me cause to carry on. Things will soon be other than they are right now. There is no past for my return, just the acceptance of this moment, continuous in process - it's here, always, where I belong. 

`

Peace, Eric

Of Between

 

Awareness of between:

of noting empty spaces - and this becomes a meditation on the whole, a seamless existence viewed and heard through the distinctions of the world. It's seeing, a true sight that doesn't overlook how an object comes to be defined through the capacity of which its held. And the same as well with listening, all meaning - from thought to sound, is brought by an awareness of between, each word given space to be formed completely, and from this vibrations become meaningful, shared, expressed in ways that shape the world. 

emptiness is my own allowing nature, as each experience simply seems  to fold within itself and continue, unlimited in supply. There's always room for more. This too brings me space to mourn, to find joy, and the differences found between. I am enriched by what's allowed, my capacity serves to hold it all, and more it exists to lend itself as the very substance of the world, emptiness somehow gathered now as form, yet still formless in it's allowing nature. 

in this light, there is no true between, no space that isn't touched between us that is also not our continuation as the whole. To say that we are one in someways misses this connection, dismisses the unique things we offer to the world, to each other. What I am, what I find myself to be when noting empty spaces - is whole. I also find that this includes you, in all of what you are, your distinctions, experiences, everything that you offer to the world. Your wholeness is mine as well. We are touched by the same emptiness, capacity in service for the other. 

just wholeness.

of noting empty spaces - and all the world is found. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Not Other Than

 It's not other than:

not other than - but simply as it without need of my description. My words will only add conceptual layers to the pure reality of awareness. Yet writing too has its own purity, layers belong to offer meaning to the world, and words tell the story of their appearance just by giving form within the emptiness of a page. It's seeing how this all flows in a seamless expression of the whole, nothing becoming that didn't exist before, but only shifting in my view. 

this is where I find myself, at once a description of long held beliefs as well as an aware understanding that allows my world to be described. One doesn't seem any more true than the other, it's reality as the whole, that an appearance comes to serve through this capacity for however brief it may belong. There is no point of contention here, no argument that I one or the other - what I seem to be is just the allowing, a verb in constant expression, sometimes believing it's a noun. 

so it's a restful place to be, always here, without questions of existence - an allowing life that simply flows on without agenda, not other than an appearance, and not than the space for it to be. There is really no description, but in someway every word demonstrates a certain truth. What appears is here, even if only brief in imagined form. 

of course none of this is completely so, not true and yet not false as well. It's just my own description, words from this moment given to the page. 

~ 

Peace, Eric 

Never Just The Same

 

Never just the same:

not quite so again - each moment being a subtle rebirth, shifting in ways not noticed but never just the same. Life is always motion, completely offering itself anew. It's the only promise I'm aware of, and one I find fulfilled through qualities of experience. 

just listening, to hear a sound truly play out from silent plain, seamlessly emerging and yet never apart in essential nature - it's all one thing, this listening, equal in silence, sound, and my own participation. What I hear is an allowing-ness, qualities to be expressed without hindrance to their play. Through this, no note is ever just the same, silence being the great offering for sounds to be unique in every way, infinite listening happening now. 

as well as the view, there is never the same object, and at no point is another item not allowed - my capacity to see is endless, always expanding with a willingness for the world to change in its expression. It's as if I find myself an artist with a self-manifesting landscape, brush strokes constantly bringing life to new appearance, and even unseen ways of life in altering design. All I see is change, being a witness to my participation as motion, a rebirth through each instant of a shared becoming. 

nothing lasts longer than the moment it's been given, just a brief expression that never really belonged for observation. Reality is only seen through motion. With this, I find myself grateful for a slowed perception, being appreciative to what seems a captured moment. It's a gift really, that life offers itself in such a way as to always allow every aspect it's expression, unique in every possible distinction, as well the illusion of a certain sense of timelessness for its appreciation. 

it's never just the same, and this too holds my own promise to be continuous in what I offer - there is nothing that holds me to what I ever was before. I am only, always now. Here, my own rebirth to every moment. 

~

Peace, Eric 

No Agenda

 

No agenda:

as for me, I just found myself with a wish to drop it all - no longer the host of labels long collected, with little need to know myself as anything more than simply being. Everything still belonged, life continuing exactly as before. But now I run, without being a runner. I meditate for just this moment on the cushion, no promise of anything more. I write with no agenda, little concern for any meaning I may offer - I simply like the sound words. 

this is the ease of being, nothing sacrificed to be anything other than what I am right now. I won't give it further labels. Of course life still brings complications, and often I am lost again in the details of the world, a quick forgetting of myself as I participate in life's demands. But I never truly become anything, nothing sticks past the moment that it happens. It's a nice taste of freedom, knowing that life will be exactly as it is without control from me, that I don't have to maintain a certain role, or uphold an image or a label. 

it's enough to be. 

even more, it's all I ever truly am - being, an aspect of life that's dynamic in expression. What could I possibly add to this? And why would I bother? Identity is a heavy weight to carry through the world, and brings little in the way of true joy. At some point, through no effort, nor will of my own, I simply lost track of this agenda. It's not that I have no identity, I still relate to the world in all the ways before - but I don't have to do anything for this to be, there's no agenda to weigh me down any longer. I'm lighter. 

that's enough for me, a lighter sense of being. It's an unearned grace and one I'm grateful to have found. So life continues, a bit more joy noticed than before. With that, I write these words with no agenda - simply liking how they sound. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Life Directly

 Life directly:

without real meaning, nothing said in description that captures any sense of true - it's the experience of life directly that gives hint of what I am, reality always being just this present moment. Everything else is added after this, a memory assigned a certain weight of detail to the mind. Things become meaningful only after passing, a passion for an experience now gone. 

yet this present moment is always open, a fresh invitation to know myself through new unfolding of what life offers. It's right here that listening occurs, sound arising without addition of labels, silence lending itself to the expression of vibrations. It's a true moment. To this I bring description, in a wish to share I write of morning silence broken gently by a single note that grows to complete song. I'll write of how this song was given to me in beautiful chorus, an early gift from the birds outside my window to start my day. This too is true in a way, but not directly so - the moment itself was simply, only listening. Pure, and without my interference, nothing to be added. 

to write of any of this is a delay in my description, always a memory of past moments, giving meaning to what's gone. But it's the present moment that offers me this opportunity, to write of past experience takes place right now, there is no escape from the reality of this moment, and no need to hold a constant vigil of mindfulness to attention. Life is always here, always now. 

relaxing as this, aware, and allowing - meaning will follow, a story will be told. 

~

Peace, Eric 

What I Am

 

What I am:

as to what I am, and this seems of greater interest than asking who I find myself to be - it all begins with the solid things of life, my assurance of body and then moved to the more subtle aspects of thought and mind. I am made of intricate parts that somehow form a whole, a design of wonder made to navigate its way through life. Yet each part is smaller still, from cells to molecules and atoms, and further still I come to particles that make the very structure of my existence. Things get even smaller from here, until the very substance of what I am - simply disappears. 

but nothing is discarded from the whole, what I am is complete through pieces as well as the formlessness that holds this all together. 

as well, I find myself much larger than appearance - I exist as an exchange of breath and air, atoms traded in vast continuation, shared as one body. What I am touches you and onward to another, and so we find ourselves as an endless reach of true connection. Through this, I continue with a lost sense of I, no longer personal and yet nothing essential left behind. 

what I am is infinite without direction.

of course the simple answer is that I don't really know what I am, naming parts and speculation tell me nothing true at all - and that's the answer-less answer that most satisfies me, that I am nothing at all, as well as the collected whole. One thing in aspect of appearance. What I am, right now, is aware, a knowing sense of just this moment - no answers given, and no questions needed. 

simply this

~

Peace, Eric