blog without a name

Emptiness pervades.

All the mind’s petty questioning stemming from futile confusion has ceased. Things happen, they always happen; disconnected and totally connected at the same time, although no longer with a raison d’etre. Thinking has become an extraneous activity with no beginning, no conclusion, no direction. Thought no longer contains that spark which is, in turn, no longer able to revolve any grinding gears.

When there is an I to look, I see emptiness, no connection, no reasoning behind anything. What remains is a sparkling sphere of light illuminating all as one and what is realised is that it is not a remainder at all, it was always there, in every thing, yet never being defined by any of it. This light is The One defying description, but words continue to be issued forth from it; they float out and disappear back into the source again, touching nothing.

There is movement without movement, doing and not-doing, emptying and filling with nothing much else – that is the totality of it, that is it. Thoughts are just thoughts, no longer behaving like moths flitting around the window, drawn into the light.

Summer has ended, the golden luminosity of ancient forest takes over, with trees glorious in their dying, noble in their knowing, humble in their letting go.

Nothing connects and nothing has ever been disconnected, yet all is as it is; perfect and shining in its living and dying. There is no reason behind the reason for things. If open-space could ever have been on the outside, ever have been a thing, it is now internalizing, turning itself outside in, on an axis that doesn’t seem to exist anymore.

Silence revealing, emptiness pervading.

The light of a billion stars creeps across the space no longer reflected in the place which used to be me, could never have not been me, which always will be me; bright, alive, whole.