Body.

Consciousness.

World.

Inside.

Outside.

One Happening.

Life Happening.

Existence.

THIS.

 

Each Heartbeat.

A Rythm.

Every Breath.

A Note.

Each Thought.

A Melody.

Every Feeling.

A Chord.

In and as.

Life’s Song.

 

There is not.

And never was.

A separate self.

With any personal power.

No independently existing person.

No thinker of Thoughts.

No feeler of Feelings.

No owner of The Body.

The Sense Of Separate Self.

Is just a Sense.

A Functioning.

A Happening.

A Sense does not and cannot do anything.

There is only The Self.

Life Itself.

The Totality.

The All Inclusive Happening.

Of This Moment.

Being and Doing.

Everything.

 

 

Mist.

Seems to arise from Nowhere.

Stays around for a while.

Shifting.

Dancing.

Ephemeral.

Fleeting.

Like these Thoughts.

Like Everything.

Life Itself.

Is The Home.

That doesn’t need to be returned to.

Because Life Itself.

Is The Home that was never left.

 

 

This is a bizarre Dance.

Of Infinite Conscious Energy.

But You still have to wash your Car.

Walk the Dog.

Pay your Tax.

And go shopping for Milk.

The Perfect Presence.

Of This Moment.

Everything appearing.

Everything included.

Exactly as it is.

The Perfect Presence.

Of The Infinite.