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.
There isn’t a single.
Shadowy, seedy, corrupt, dark, sleazy, unpleasant.
Corner.
Anywhere.
That isn’t full.
Of Life Happening.
Even the Darkest Shadows.
Are full of Brilliant Light.
The Entirety.
Of Life Happening.
Held, supported and loved.
Unconditionally.
In This Moment.
Thoughts, feelings, moods.
Are like the weather.
Arising, happening, changing.
All by themselves.
With nobody doing it.
Thoughts, feelings, moods.
Do not exist separately.
From the weather.
It’s all Life happening.
All of It.
The very Energy moving in and as the Body.
Is the Infinite Energy of The Universe.
The very Consciousness.
Aware of the Energy moving in and as the Body.
Is the Infinite Consciousness of The Universe.
They are not two.
They dance together.
United.
In This Dance Of Life.
This Dance Of The Universe.
Just This.
All Inclusive.
All Encompassing.
Now.
A Sip of Coffee.
A Spoon of Ice Cream.
Sensation of temperature, of texture, of consistency.
Flavours and Aromas are detected and analysed.
All of This happening by itself.
Nobody doing it.
This is the Intelligence of Life.
Right Here and right Now.
In a Spoon of Ice Cream.
WHO GROWS THE GRASS? 