Busy searching for Home.

And you never left The House.

See that you don’t make yourself happen.

See that nothing makes itself happen.

See that everything is a happening.

See that all there is, is This Happening.

Seamless.

Whole.

Complete.

When stars.

Touch your eyelids.

You know you’re Home.

There are no levels in Life.

Just infinite variety of Expression.

It’s just THIS.

All THIS.

Happening by itself.

Too simple?

Breath in.

Breath out.

Thoughts come.

Thoughts go.

Sun shines.

Rain falls.

Clouds come.

Clouds go.

Identification happens.

Detachment happens.

Pain happens.

Joy happens.

Snow falls.

Ice melts.

Flowers bloom.

Flowers wilt.

Contraction.

Expansion.

Suffering happens.

Peace happens.

Breath in.

Breath out.

The Ever Changing.

You are a Note.

In The Symphony Of The Universe.

The Music Of Existence.

Filling your entire Being.

–

How can a Note be separate from The Music?

Fear.

Excitement.

Panic.

Lust.

The divinity.

Of a pounding human heart.

There is no real difference.

Between master and student.

Tree and river.

Nothing is closer to the Truth.

Nothing is further away.

All are included in What Is.

Everything is the expression of Life.

Exactly as it is.

My beat up old guitar.

Stands in the corner.

The reason I don’t bother to strum or pluck?

It’s plugged in.

And sounds pretty good.

Just humming away.

All by itself.