can you not feel the earth stilling itself sometimes?
Posted by lune on December 26, 2009
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you are home
Posted by lune on December 23, 2009
The most confounded thing, wow, it is the most confounded thing. I found it in the most confounded place, a place I would have never imagined looking and although I wasn’t looking, there it is.
There is no formula, there is no place to look, because it is everywhere and it is almost as if it cannot stand being looked at, but it does. It is like a thousand symphonies playing one against the other, for each other – and all of it makes sense, totally, but I could not tell you how. It is beyond all that, but so ordinarily within it.
And it is like being one-day-old and in your mother’s arms, gazing up into the clearest blue eyes, the deepest crystal waters you could ever imagine; there are no boundaries, there are no rules and there is no right, no wrong.
Let go, get lost in it. Disappear into the dark without fear and with total trust, total love because everything you need is right here. You are that babe-in-arms swimming in the sea that holds you. The tide comes and goes and you are as you are and always will be, never divided from Source.
Rest. Rest within it, you cannot be apart from it, you are this wondrous light and you are home. You are already what you seek and it is so close at hand, perhaps closer than the person you think yourself to be could ever possibly believe.
Rest in the knowing that love knows you, holds you, beckons you, but you need go no further and try no more because love is what you are-
You are the symphony, the reason, the resting place, you are the beginning, the end, the All and it goes no further than this.
You are home.
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a split-second ago
Posted by lune on December 20, 2009
There are voices now, somewhere in the house. Sounds of men talking; discussion. The air trips lightly over itself to get here, and I am nowhere but inside it.
A door softly closes to, foot falls out on the snowy path, disappearing into darkness, footprints following close behind.
The night’s humdrum existence continues. It is below zero and the house is creaking under the weight of being cold – like a ship standing proud on a frozen sea.
There was a split-second of time here a split-second ago and it continues to split apart from itself, again and again and again like a ceaseless pendulum
And I am trying to preserve it by writing in formaldehyde ink, but the liquid is burning the page away. There is no longer any reason to catch it, pin it down – it will escape and disappear at last in its own way, unfettered.
A small girl walks in my direction, asks me a question and turns to leave, depositing a small toy dog in my hand, wrapped in a piece of cloth.
Some more night river flows slowly past the house. Silence, it is midwinter; two planets align briefly and then pass. Sirius rises in the frosted sky and I smile.
Time to go and sew up a sock.
Posted in everyday life, happening happening, oneness of the moment | 5 Comments »
the world breathes
Posted by lune on December 17, 2009
There has been a quietness to this house, a quietness to me. There are no longer many words to describe IT, there is no longer much thought about IT; there is only IT, only IT.
Sometimes not even that.
There seems no point in trying to explain. There seems no point in trying to follow up with words. The internet seems like such a cumbersome way to breathe out all of this, all of a sudden. So I have stopped trying. There are no words that could ever come close.
The deep forest is blanketed in snow, there is silence. A few deer prints line the track, some snow flops from a branch.
The world breathes – not in words – but in Being and I now can rest.
A meaning to all this could be found whilst knitting, you know – through no meaning whatsoever. There was no meaning this morning in front of the fire as the deep chocolate scarf unravelled before my eyes. Each stitch had its own way about it, each made up the whole, each was not each but all, with hands extending into it, wrapping around it.
There are times, I call it those ‘funny times’ when everything stands still and I am no ‘I’ but pure elemental something-that-is-nothingness. Sometimes, whilst I watch my daughter’s eyes grow heavy as she falls asleep, the whole of wholeness turns in on itself and the thing that I conceived for myself, the thing that seemed so solid, grows weak and radiates from nowhere in particular.
The temperature drops outside sharply and most everything disappears. There is no meaning, no words, no thought. Well, there is certainly no need to record it here, it breathes in its own way, that’s all and it is quieter than words, yet louder than thought. And it is all a dream.
And still people sit and drone on and on, searching, ruminating – words spilling like milk, flowing like tears. There is no need to try, this can never be sought through thought, no words are needed. Nobody is interested, although it seems like the most important thing in the world.
And of course it is, but not in the way we think it should be.
Turn off the computer and walk out into the fresh air. Do whatever comes, do whatever there is to do next: flow, stop and flow again – Breathe.
That’s all.
Posted in all I know is that I do not know, everyday life, having no thoughts, life, mystical language, nature spirituality, no mind, what the mind can never know | 17 Comments »
