blog without a name

Up and out of the house now, into the space above. Motion; moving; walking over tundra; enclosed in fiery escarpments and all around – the sky opening up; the clod beneath the heel clammy, still wet; tramping, fraying at the leash, stomping out the path.

Moods change and I watch the worries come and go; of course they do. Sometimes, a thought comes “I think I have moved away from ‘it’” and there is panic. Again, I struggle to find the nowhere place where nothing matters, then there is the remembering that whatever it is; worrying, panic, struggle, whatever; it enfolds as it unfolds and nothing is out of place – ever. In, out, up, down, far away, right inside; life is just as it is, whether we think we are enlightened or not.

Is there really a person walking here, making a judgement about all of this? Probably not, but hey, judging unfolds just like anything else and despite judgment or maybe because of it, everything is damned well, perfectly, even if it feels less-than-perfectly, just as it should be.

Up, out in the wilderness, on top of the world, the spaciousness settles somewhere between horizons. Things happen without any doer, without a puppeteer pulling the strings; trees turning golden in the autumn evening; stags bellowing across the valley in their haunting rutting-song; movement happening to and fro, to and fro and the space that contains this presence is all encompassing.

As far as the eye can see.

Treading over the earth, sky in view, always one step merging into the next; no borders, no geography. I become a map’s reference-point, cutting through the hardest rock, flying with the faintest clouds.

Sky fits earth; they balance each other out perfectly, always. What would the earth be without the sky? Ha! they are totally in balance with, totally dependent on each other; never separate, in fact. Everything apparently! moves around this core of nothingness in complete unison. This core, which is composed of what, exactly? It is composed wholly of opposites, each one cancelling the other out so perfectly that not a trace of anything remains. It cannot be any other way.

There is no birth without death, no light without dark, no love without hate, no earth without sky. The only reason I am here at all is because there is ‘Other’. Crash and burn baby, crash. and. burn.

What a strange notion, hey – ME! How strange to think I believed I was separate from all these intertwining opposites revolving around their own negation. I feel like a grey-haired scientist writing on an untidy blackboard: ergo, we are the sum of all these parts; that which has no opposite and cannot be negated, ever.

Where did the very first thought originate from? Did the sky ask itself why it was not part of the earth; why it had been excluded from earthly things? Did the earth ever wonder why it was not able to jump up, grab that passing cloud and catch a ride around itself? 

High, clear, airy, gaseous nothingness; can the sky ever know of itself?
Deep, dark, rocky, molten endlessness; can the earth ever know of itself?
Compact, muscular, boney, bloody thoughtfulness; can I ever know of myself?

Where am I? Where am I? Shouting now – WHERE AM I?

Lost in the wilderness out there; found in the wilds in here.